Dear Friends,
I have just completed draft orders of Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer for use from Easter to Ascension. You may obtain the PDF by clicking on the links below:
Draft Morning Prayer for Easter
Draft Evening Prayer for Easter
May your prayers rise like incense to the Holy One who has given us new life through Christ.
Richard+
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Planting Seeds
Easter
31 March 2013
Saint Faith’s
Anglican Church
Vancouver BC
In November
of 2007 the city authorities in Amsterdam ordered a horse-chestnut tree chopped
down due to the risk that it would fall down and injure passers-by. However, a group came together and sought an
injunction to prevent the tree from being chopped down. The injunction was granted and a small
foundation was established to provide funding for the stabilization of the
tree.
In August
of 2010 a wind storm struck the city of Amsterdam and the tree broke off about
1.5 metres from the ground. Luckily the
tree only damaged a nearby garden shed and no persons were injured.
Vancouverites
are accustomed to this sort of ‘tree-hugging madness’. After all, how many cities have groups whose
primary goal is the preservation of a giant hollow tree stump in Stanley
Park? I admit that I am not immune. Shortly after moving into the Rectory, I
discovered a ‘volunteer’ oak sapling growing too close to the house. So I moved the sapling into a place recently
vacated by a diseased and dying evergreen.
The sapling thrived and now stands at least seven or eight metres
high. But I know that when the Rectory
comes down, so my little oak tree will come down after almost fifteen years of
care.
You might
ask why this horse-chestnut tree in Amsterdam attracted so much attention. In 1940 the Germans invaded Holland and
occupied the country. Dutch Jews were
among the first non-German Jews to be sent to the concentration camps and
eventually to the extermination camps.
Escape from Holland was almost impossible and some Jews found sanctuary
in the homes of sympathetic non-Jews.
Among the
Jewish families who found sanctuary was the Frank family. For almost four years they hid in an attic
until they were betrayed and sent to the concentration camps. Only the father, Otto Frank, survived, but
his daughter, Anne, wrote a diary which is now on the compulsory reading lists
of secondary schools throughout the world.
Among her
entries is this one, written on the 23rd of February 1944, shortly
before the family was discovered. She
wrote, “Nearly every morning I go to the attic to blow the stuffy air out of my
lungs. From my favourite spot on the
floor I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree, on whose branches
little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, and at the seagulls and other
birds as they glide on the wind. As long
as this exists, I thought, and I may live to see it, this sunshine, the
cloudless skies, while this lasts, I cannot be unhappy.”
For Anne
the tree represented hope for a future beyond the terror of the
occupation. She did not live to see the
end of the terror, but the tree remained as a symbol of her hope. For this reason the tree became an important
civic symbol to the citizens of Amsterdam.
Despite the
best efforts of arborists and the good will of the property owner, the tree
could not be saved. But the tree kept
producing viable seeds and, in 2011, saplings sprouted from seeds gathered by
the arborists and lovingly tended. This
year some of the saplings will be sent abroad.
Among the locations are eleven in the United States including the
Indianapolis Children’s Museum which houses a permanent exhibition entitled,
“The Power of Children”. The exhibition
includes among its honorees Anne Frank; Ruby Bridges, the first
African-American child to attend a whites-only elementary school; and Ryan
White, an Indiana teenager diagnosed with HIV after receiving a tainted blood
infusion to treat his hemophilia.
The tree
that was the object of Anne Frank’s reflections has not died. It lives in the seeds that will now go
throughout the world. And in the years
to come, other eyes will gaze upon the tree and remember the hope in the midst
of terror. Perhaps that gaze will
generate within the observer the determination that such terror will never
happen again.
But the
life of the tree could only be maintained by the efforts of others. What it represents could only be shared when
others took up the challenge to spread its seeds beyond the boundaries of
Amsterdam. Just like Scarlett O’Hara,
life always relies on the kindness of strangers and on the kindness of friends
and companions.
My children
tell me that among their friends a new verb has emerged: ‘to leggett’.
‘To leggett’ means to demand care and precision in how we speak. For example, my children cringe when they or
one of their friends says, “Can I?” when what they really mean is “May I?” “Oh no,” they’ll cry, “Dad’s going to
leggett!” I regularly correct split
infinitives and endure the misuse of ‘me’ instead of ‘I’. I like to think that a significant number of
rugby players and other children transported in my car have become paragons of
the English language.
Why do I
bring this up today? Because today we
celebrate our belief that God has raised Jesus from the dead. Notice the verb. Jesus is the object of God’s action. On the cross Jesus will say with his dying
breath, “It is accomplished.” But God
was not finished with Jesus. The cross
was only a way-station towards the great thing that God was about to do. Jesus did not rise from the grave; Jesus was
raised from the dead by the gracious act of God.
My friends,
Jesus remains in the tomb until he is raised by the words and deeds of those
who claim to his followers. The power of
God incarnate in Jesus lies dormant until it is raised by believers who by word
and action release the power of God into the world around them. The promise of Easter remains fallow until
its seeds are lovingly tended and then, with equal love and care, are planted
in the gardens of our lives, the streets of neighbourhoods, the back alleys of
our cities.
All Peter
and the other disciple saw was an empty tomb and went away pondering what the
mystery of Jesus’ absence might mean. It
was Mary Magdalene who received the seed of new life when she saw the risen
Christ. It was Mary Magdalene who
carried that seed and planted it in the midst of the bewildered disciples. From that seed, the first seed of the good
news of God in Jesus, that we were sprung into the life of faith.
You know, I
am tempted to sneak into the backyard of the Rectory when the time comes to
redevelop the property. I am tempted to
sneak in and find a few seeds from my oak so that I can plant them, tend them
and, if they spring into life, plant them in new places. Perhaps we might do the same with the seeds
of the good news of God in Jesus.
Certainly there are still a few places that need its shade and its
promise of life. Amen.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Mortal, Can These Bones Live?
Easter Vigil
30 March 2013
Saint Faith’s Anglican Church
Vancouver BC
Focus text: Ezekiel
37.1-14
Click here for an audio recording of the Sermon as preached at the Vigil.
Click here for an audio recording of the Sermon as preached at the Vigil.
“Mortal,
can these bones live!” With this
question God summons the prophet Ezekiel to a task that he probably hoped
someone else might be called upon to do.
After all, Ezekiel has not had an easy time of it.
A
priest of the Temple in Jerusalem, Ezekiel was among the Judeans taken into
exile by the Babylonians after they had defeated the Judeans and destroyed the
city in 597 bce. A few years after his arrival in Babylon,
Ezekiel found himself called by God from his priestly ministry to a prophetic
one. But what a prophetic ministry was
his!
It
fell to Ezekiel to tell the Judeans that their cherished temple and their
monarchy had been brought to an end.[1] It fell to Ezekiel to tell his compatriots
that the city of Jerusalem had been destroyed.[2] It fell to poor old Ezekiel to tell the
exiles that God had ended their relationship with the land promised to their
ancestors.[3] These are hardly messages that a prophet
hopes God would ask her or him to share with people.
Ezekiel’s
people were filled with questions. Why
is Israel in exile?[4] Is God unjust?[5] Why didn’t God protect the land of promise
from the Babylonian invaders?[6] Is God able to do anything in this situation?[7]
To
these and other questions Ezekiel does have any answer. The old structures and systems that have been
destroyed will be renewed so that they may do what God intended them to do ---
to glorify God so that all people might know who is sovereign over history.[8] In the meantime God will work to change how
the people think and feel, creating a new covenant written on their hearts not
on stone.[9] Even in the exile the weak will be cared for
and the spirits of the desolate and despondent will be raised up.[10] Finally, peace will reign in the land.[11]
But
in the meantime, the people will endure their exile. They will be, in almost every meaningful way,
dead. Their dry bones litter the
landscape of Judea and the dry bones of their hopes and aspirations now litter
the town and cities where the Babylonians have settled their captives.
“Mortal,
can these bones live?” “Yes!”, God says,
speaking through the prophet. God will
breathe life into the bones, put flesh and sinews upon them and they will rise
up, a new people, a living witness to the God of Israel who does wonderful
things. The memory of the exile will not
be erased, the sorrows of the loss of land and kin will be remembered, but the
people, the people will have a new role to play in God’s salvation.
“Mortal,
can these bones live?” This is a
question asked by many of our aboriginal sisters and brothers as they look
around at the third-world conditions that still afflict many First Nations
communities in this country. There are
some who believe that the situation is endemic and cannot be remedied unless
First Nations people abandon their lands and join so-called ‘mainstream’
Canadian society.
Then,
in January of this year, six young men and a guide left Whapmagoostui, Québec,
the northernmost Cree community on the east shore of Hudson’s Bay to walk to
Ottawa. These young men had been
inspired by the ‘Idle No More’ movement and one of them, David Kawapit, came up
with the idea for a symbolic walk along the ancient trade routes that linked
the communities along the shore of the Bay.
Along
the way their numbers grew. When they
reached Ottawa on this past Monday, more than 400 aboriginal walkers had joined
the seven. What did they want to
show? They wanted to show that their
culture is not dead, that the sorrows of the loss of land and kin will not be
allowed to disempower the current generation, and the people, the people will
have a new role to play in Canada, the land of their ancestors.
“Mortal,
can these bones live?” “Yes,” said young
David and his companions. The Creator
has a purpose for all creatures, including aboriginal and non-aboriginal
Canadians. Together we might craft the
just society that we all desire.
“Mortal,
can these bones live?” There are no
doubt some who wondered whether Christian traditions such as ours that value
open minds, open hearts and open hands have a future. Perhaps we are living through an exile no
less difficult than that of our sisters and brothers in Babylon. We seem caught in the jaws of a religious
culture where the middle way, a way that values both mind and heart, that
honours both faith and questioning, is being chewed into pieces. Our secular neighbours identify us with less
respectful and more dogmatic forms of religious practice. Many young people seek wisdom from wells
other than the worshipping communities that tonight celebrate the resurrection
of Jesus.
But
before we wonder whether God has forgotten us, let us not forget that the
people of Israel, despite all the efforts of tyrants, still witness to the Holy
One of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Before
we ponder whether we have a future, let us not forget David Kawapit and his
companions who witness to the vitality of peoples who have more reason than we
to question the future. Before we give
in to any despondency, let us not forgot that two thousand years ago a small
group of Jews thought that their beloved teacher was dead and their hopes
buried with him. Within fifty days they
were preaching and teaching, healing and growing. Even the mightiest empire of the day could
not resist the message.
“Mortal,
can these bones live?” Most certainly
they can. Most certainly they will. And the rattling of the bones coming together
will fill the earth with the sounds of God’s renewing and compassionate
love. Amen.
[1]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[2]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[3]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[4]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[5]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[6]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[7]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[8]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1153.
[9]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1154.
[10]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1154.
[11]
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1154.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Missing the Point --- Again!
Missing the Point ---
Again!
RCL Maundy Thursday
28 March 2013
Saint Augustine’s
Anglican Church
Vancouver BC
Exodus 12.1-14; Psalm 116.1, 10-17; 1 Corinthians 11.23-26;
John 13.1-17, 31b-35
Missing the
point seems to be a frequent occurrence for people of religious faith. Let’s take Judas, for example. Now Judas is one of the more mysterious
figures in the New Testament. He is vilified
as a thief. He stands condemned as a
traitor. Biblical scholars still debate
why Judas did what he did. In today’s
gospel Jesus’ words to him only add to the mystery: ‘Do quickly what you are going to do.’ (John
13.27)
I have
often pondered who Judas was. On this
final night before the crucifixion Matthew, Mark and Luke tell us Judas shared
in the bread and the wine that symbolize the new covenant that Jesus makes
between his disciples and the living God.
On this final night before the crucifixion Jesus washes Judas’ feet and,
before he departs, Judas hears Jesus say, ‘For I have set you an example, that
you also should do as I have done to you.’ (John 13.15)
But poor,
old Judas, fed with the bread of new life, quenched with the wine of
forgiveness, washed with the water of servanthood, misses the point. Whether he acts out of jealousy or political
opportunism or pure evil or whatever motive we may name, he misses the point
that God is making in the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth.
A little
over a year ago I had the privilege of being part of a tour of Israel and the
West Bank sponsored by the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the primary
association of Reform rabbis in North America.
Our tour was the first-ever inter-faith tour sponsored by the Conference
with eight Jewish rabbis from all over North America bringing one or more of
their Christian colleagues along.
Two weeks
before Rabbi Philip Bregman of Temple Sholom and I left Vancouver for Tel Aviv,
along with my Lutheran colleague, Paul Schmidt, and my United Church colleague,
Gary Gaudin, a brawl broke out in the Church of the Holy Nativity in
Bethlehem. The church is maintained by
three Christian communities: the
Armenian Orthodox, the Greek Orthodox and the Roman Catholics. They have very precise rules about who does
what in the church and those rules include who cleans what portion of the
church and when.
It seems
that two of the communities, the Armenians and the Greeks, were cleaning the
church in preparation for the celebration of Orthodox Christmas on the 6th
of January. Some monk, whether Armenian
or Greek, we don’t know, started cleaning the wrong section of the floor. Brooms and mops began to fly until the
Palestinian police were called in to keep the peace and to keep the two
communities apart. If you check the
internet, you can see a picture of a cordon of police separating two groups of
monks as they clean the floors.
Once again
Christians seemed to miss the point of the Gospel --- and the world had a field
day.
While we
were in Israel, we spend a day and a half in Jerusalem, barely time to scratch
the surface of the surface of this place sacred to Jews, Christians and
Muslims. Early on a Saturday we began a
walking tour on the Mount of Olives, following a steep road that was likely
built on top of the ancient highway from the Mount and into the City
itself. After winding our way by the
Pool of Bethsaida and other sites, we found ourselves on the roof of the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre.
On the roof
Ethiopian monks live in ramshackle shacks that are frequent targets of objects
thrown by Syrian monks who live higher up in an adjoining building. From the roof we made our way through tiny
passageways and down narrow stairways until we came to the courtyard of the
Church itself. I can tell you that I was
overwhelmed by all the sights and all the emotions of being in this place.
We were
given some time to visit the church. I
paused by a stone slab thought by some to be the stone upon which the body of
Jesus was anointed and wrapped before his hasty burial in the tomb. I knelt and I wept.
As I joined
the queue to enter into the tomb itself, the sounds of the Franciscan friars
singing vespers filled the church. I
found myself being carried forward by the crowd and caressed by the music.
Suddenly
the sound of new voices, strong voices, assertive voices, began to drown out
the sounds of the Franciscans. A choir
of Armenian monks led a priest to the tomb.
Those waiting to enter the tomb were firmly pushed aside by Russian
monks whose job seemed primarily to be one of crowd control. The Western chants of the Franciscans competed
with the Eastern chants of the Armenians in a cacophony of sacred song that
shattered any peace I had been experiencing.
Finally the
Armenians and the Franciscans were finished.
The queue moved forward and I entered the tomb. Russian pilgrims, forbidden for so many years
from visiting Jerusalem, bring hundreds of long, slender candles which they lay
on the tomb and take home to friends and relatives. I waited in the tiny chamber before the tomb
itself, a spiritual challenge for a claustrophobe like me, while two Russian
women laid their candles on the slab where Jesus is supposed to have lain. They prayed and I quietly waited my
turn. ‘Bistro! Bistro!
Bistro!’ shouted an Orthodox monk behind me, ‘Hurry up! Hurry up!
Hurry up!’
I knelt at
the slab. I calmed my thoughts and said,
‘Well, we’ve missed the point again, haven’t we, Lord!?’
Tonight we
gather for rituals that the church has celebrated for more than a thousand
years. Feet will be washed; bread and
wine will be shared ‘remembering the Lord’s death until he comes’. The church will darken and our vigil until
the resurrection will begin. And the
question will hang over us and over all the churches that celebrate this festival: Will we miss the point?
The bad
news is that we will miss the point. We
all have our better days and our worse days, days when the fire of the Gospel is
warm within us and days when not even a hurricane will cause the embers of the
Gospel within us to blaze into a fire that beckons others to its warmth.
But the
good news is this: God never abandons
us. God never gives up hoping in us and
through us. Jesus knew that Judas was about
to betray him, but that did not prevent Jesus from offering Judas his body and
blood, did not prevent Jesus from washing Judas’ feet as a sign of God’s
self-giving love. Despite the clashes
between Christians of different traditions in Israel and the West Bank, they
continue to be a witness to the love of Christ in a troubled part of our
world. Our failures, our tepidness in
commending the faith that is within us, cannot dampen God’s passion for this
world and for all its creatures, human and non-human alike.
So, as we
wash the feet of sisters and brothers tonight, let us remember the point: that our Lord washed the feet of those who
were courageous and those who were cowardly, those who were faithful and those
who were unfaithful, and loved them all with unfailing love and
compassion. As we eat the bread and drink
the cup, let us remember the point: that
as our Lord gives himself to us in the bread and the wine, so we, who are his
body and blood in the world, are called to give ourselves to each other and to
all who are seeking what we have found in this family of Christ.
For tonight
at least, let us not miss the point.
Amen.
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