SERMON: View from the Top

 10:30 am, Sun, March 5, 2023 - J G White / FBCA

(Psalm 121; Gen 12:1-4a; Rom 4:1-5, 13-17; Mtt 17:1-9)

Have you been too any hilltops lately? And seen a good view? ‘Why do they always put the best views up a big hill?!’ Sharon and I have been travelling the Cobequid Pass much more often over the past eight months. I never tire of the views. Yesterday I noticed again an amazing sight. Just this side of the toll booth, around Westchester Mountain, I think, you can see far, far in the distance. Some days, like yesterday, when the atmosphere is clear, you can see Confederation Bridge, out in the Northumberland Straight – some seventy kilometers away!

Here we are now, in Christian worship, which is always looking back, back, back in time, and forward, far forward into eternity. In the scriptures here, we glimpse Father Abraham, perhaps four thousand years ago, and early Christians looking way back to him. We view a common thread of faith, all the way back to Abraham and Sara.

We also spent a moment with Jesus, now making a turn towards Jerusalem, and His destiny. The transfiguration scene. A ‘hinge of holy history,’ as my NT professor Dr. Alison Trites calls it. This incredible moment in Jesus’ life is witnessed by just a couple of His closest disciples. It is a high point which gives a view of the past: Moses and Elijah meet with Christ. It is a view of their present, in the midst of the travels of Jesus and His followers. & the transfiguration is a view of the future: the Son of God glorified & setting free humanity and all creation.

Mountains and hilltops figure prominently in the biblical record. In the ancient human worldview, these are special places where it is more likely that the things of the earth and the things of the heavens meet. This seems quite natural. There is a view, there is clarity, there often is solitude, upon a mountain.

This story from Jesus’ life is about getting the big picture, a view from the mountaintop. The vision of Jesus Himself is quite astounding to Peter and John. In that holy moment they get to view the essence of the One they’ve been following.

My dear, old friend, Brian, down in Parrsboro has been a paraglider for thirty years. He is a very relaxed, easy-going fellow. Up the hills around Parrsboro he would trudge, his paraglider wing bundled up on his back. Upon the blueberry covered hills, he would wait and watch and measure the wind, for that moment when it was just right to take off and fly.

But his partner, she would joke and say he is up on a hill, alone, working out his problems.

We might get in touch with our inner selves, and the problems of our world, when we go to a quiet place that seems special, beautiful, holy. We get to the essence of what’s going on. We see clearly, and the most important things come to the surface. Maybe, we get a bright glimpse of holiness!

The mountaintop experience is not just about the past or future; it is the present. “This moment or this place is as perfect as it can be” could be a motto. Richard Rohr suggests our temptation is to always look to the next moment to be more perfect, the next place, and then the next moment or place. But the spiritual practice of pilgrimage shows us otherwise. When I think back upon the twenty-two days I travelled on foot to be here, last June, I do remember arriving here and crossing the threshold of the building. But my memoires of each and every day before are just as strong and pure. I was given purpose in the present, in each day, before I was here.

Our Matisse devotional material this week talks of strong colours, bold paintings, getting in touch with our emotions. We have special moments when we face the darkness we find within, and also the beautiful light within us. We ‘get real.’

To hear and see and know what is truly within someone: this is so important. It is a matter of using the good listening skills some of us were taught in clinical pastoral education and the like. It is like the teaching of the late Marshall Rosenberg and his ‘Nonviolent Communication,’ so called. We pay attention to our feelings, and our needs, and how to express them. And we look for the feelings and the needs of those we meet. Once in a while, there is ‘a mountaintop experience,’ when something special is shared, from deep within. What a privilege these moments are.

Of course, like the scene of Jesus’ transfiguration, bright glimpses into someone’s life can be confusing to others, at first. Those intimate moments can be short lived. And they usually can be kept quiet, only told later, at the right moment. Even to know ourselves takes some steps. To step away and see ourselves. The Spirit, and other people, can help us.

My friend Jonathan happened to post this poem, yesterday:

 

TO SEE IT                Laura Foley

 

We need to separate to see

the life we’ve made.

We need to leave our house

where someone waits for us, patiently,

warm beneath the sheets.

We need to don a sweater, a coat, mittens,

wrap a scarf around our neck,

stride down the road,

a cold winter morning,

and turn our head back,

to see it—perched

on the top of hill, our life

lit from inside.

 

The Matisse devotional book for Lent suggests that this week’s colours be blue and white: the sea outside a window, the sky on a mountaintop, the light on a blue jay’s wing. Where are the blues in your life these days? Where do you find them the most beautiful and transfiguring? Where do you feel “the blues” of sorrow, or the “dazzling white” of transfiguration?

Today, the view from Jesus’ mount of transfiguration looks ahead to His death, and His rebirth to follow. Seek out the Master, to guide you and give you eyes to see. Do your best to get a good, broad look at your life: past, present, and future. And, in your deep awareness, learn from Christ to see other people well, so very well, in the moment, in the present.

All because we grow in faith, in the presence of the God in whom [Abraham] believed, [God] who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.

                 SILENCE

 

PRAYERS of the People

Spirit of life and truth, there is searching to be done. We have sought You, in the name of God, in the face of Jesus of Nazareth – and found some true glimpses of glory!

Holy One, we pray together now, searching for that unity that Jesus prayed for in His disciples. We are searching for shared goals and vision when it comes to an Assistant Minister here: bless our communicating and our praying. We are searching for all sorts of good plans to make official at our Annual meeting: may it be so.

Searcher of our hearts, our prayers are for one another here, and those who are absent. Heavy on our hearts are some with real troubles. Deep in our hearts are hopes and dreams for others. Lifting up our hearts are the joyous moments we see in the lives of other folk. Let there be power, let there be peace.

God, all of us are searching. On this week of International Women’s Day, we give thanks for the women of our day, and of past centuries, who have shone with grace and justice, compassion and wisdom. Show us the path of forgiveness and repentance, for gender equity is still a problem, and violence goes on at home and abroad. Today, as the World Day of Prayer service takes place, we give thanks for Christian women of Taiwan who prepared this for us this year, and may they be blessed in all their ministry.

O Singer of the song of creation, as we lift our voices in the next hymn, the beauty of the world will fill our minds. Yet we call out for help to be better creatures in this world, and better at caring for it, in the midst of all our powers. How great You are: give us a greater view of creation, from Your eyes. All this in Christ we pray. AMEN.

SERMON: Into the Wild

 10:30 am, Sun, Feb 26, 2023 - J G White / FBCA

(Psalm 32; Gen 2:15-17; 3:1-7; Phil 4:8-13; Mtt 4:1-11)

Into the wild we go! The Church season of Lent has begun: it is a journey with Jesus towards His cross.

Into the wild we go. Today, we look back to Christ just before His ‘sermon on the mount,’ when he takes forty days of solitude in the wild, for prayer and fasting.

Into the wild we go. What could our prayer and fasting be like this year? The devotional activity books that use the art of Matisse will challenge our creativity, and our faith.

So, how is your fasting from food going? Ha ha. Here yesterday, amid the Scrabble games and Racko and all, we ate potato chips, nuts and bolts, home-made cookies, chocolate cake with boiled icing, all washed down with punch.

Fasting from food is a spiritual practice that is thousands of years old. Moses fasted; Jesus fasted. We see it as part of ancient Judaism, and early Christianity. We see it in other world religions also. Do we see it as a helpful option in our lives?

There are fasts other than food fasts, of course. Ever try a fast from criticizing anyone or everything for a week, or more? Or a fast from looking in the mirror. How about a technology fast? The Matisse devotional book suggests this one…

Fasting can be life-giving: try a “tech fast” this week, refraining from screens for a portion of each day (or choose one or two evenings for starters). Be bold enough to take in God’s beauty and colour all around: read a book, make a meal together, check out the stars, play an instrument – in short, plunge toward the things you love! (p. 10)

What does fasting do? We see what happened to Jesus when He went out into solitude with no food for forty days! He came face to face with evil. He had some big temptations to consider. He made some good decisions, using His scriptures. He got blessed by angels!

We can’t quite expect the same experience. We are not the Son of God. The world does not revolve around us!

Yet fasting can train our souls. And bodies. It may  humiliate us, as we realize how much our peace depends upon our stomachs, or scrolling facebook, or telling others just what we think, or whatever. It can get pretty wild! Fasting can teach us how we can survive without something we sort of thought we just had to have. In time, with practice, it purifies our motives and our praying. We live into our limitations. We know ourselves better. And thus, we live better.

Yet, Matthew’s story of the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness may not quite be a lesson in fasting for us. Fasting is the backdrop. His own temptations echo those of the children of Israel, when Moses led them into the wild. They complained because they were hungry. They angrily grumbled, wanting proof that God was with them. They idolized and worshipped things that were not God – literal idols, statues of wood and metal.

What are our temptations today? In this era when times are lean for the Church? Finances could be one. Whether a little congregation is just scraping by, or a bigger church has millions  on hand, the temptations are just opposite sides of the same coin, I’d guess. And a coin it is, for we can cling so tightly to the dollars we think we have, or grasp for the ones we don’t.

Church temptations? Tradition, sameness, comfort are all very tempting and powerful in the fellowship, sometimes. So it has been in the Church in the West, all of our lives, probably. Way back in 1965, Pierre Burton spoke, in ‘The Comfortable Pew,’ of established religion in which Christianity becomes a mere vehicle on the road to worldly success, and “faith” a kind of super-aspirin that can be painlessly swallowed to provide fast, fast, fast relief from the burning issues of our time. (p. 97)

Another temptation category is always self-service, and the survival mentality that goes hand-in-hand with it. Our own church website says, at the top of the opening page, First Baptist Church is always working to meet the changing religious needs of its members. Gratefully, I don’t believe this is our central motto, and we are not just a “bless me club.’

To develop our prayer, and fasting, could be helpful, helpful training to take together, with God. A congregation can fast for a season in many ways. I remember well, in 1996, hearing John Boyd at First Baptist Halifax telling the children that the Church would fast from the word ‘alleluia’ in Lent. Someplace else, I remember a neighbouring United Church that would ‘fast from meetings’ in Lent: no committees or boards for a month and a half. Or here and now, we try something with an environmental impact, we fast from paper. Naturally, my not-so-hidden agenda is to lower our paper use some, long term.

Real fasting is to take a little step into purposeful poverty. To be empty; we get to be in solidarity with the hungry, to have true empathy for the needy, to grow in genuine compassion. We learn what the apostle Paul learned, recorded in Philippians 4:

I have learned to be content with whatever I have. 12 I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. This was not fasting: this was real life!

To me, this is like the Pavlichenkos, who are ready to stay in their war-torn country, and also ready to leave, for good. Last Wednesday a letter from Olexandr and family arrived in email. He summarizes a whole year, in a letter filled with photos. I want to read the ending, but let me start with their beginning and a few excerpts.

In a few days there will be exactly a year of the war.

2022 February 24, somewhere at 5 in the morning, we woke up from strong explosions. A few kilometers from our house, the military unit was blown up by the missiles. The explosions was so strong. Many neighbors lost windows. We were saved that it was not cold outside and we did not completely closed the windows. In our house, they simply opened strongly.

The family fled their home. Then they fled Ukraine, and stayed in Poland as long as they could. Now, they are back at home.

Your many letters showed us another reality. Especially the birth of a butterfly was so symbolic. For me this showed that we need to live on. Taras was simply delighted, he is still looking for the opportunity to repeat experiment.

We keep all the letters!

Our documents have been in processing for a very long time. It seems to me about 240 days. And when a visa invitation came, we were already in Ukraine. Because we could no longer stay in Poland for various reasons related to documents and permits.

Now I understand that it was the will of God.

You helped us survive a most difficult winter in my life.

At the end of the letter, Olexandr writes:

In a few days there will be a year of war, and Russian promise us something special. We are all waiting for a second big Russian offensive. The management of the company where I work recommended to prepare all things for evacuation and be ready to leave if necessary.

I’m writing this letter to you and look at the suitcases in the corner of the room … Will I really have to run again and go through all these trials again... For all the will of God.

If this really happens and we again have to run away from Ukraine, then we will come to Amherst. 

If this does not happen, then we want to continue to live in Ukraine.  

With love  Pavlichenko family

Whether you know all about wilderness times in your life from your personal struggles, or from taking your soul into the wild on purpose, take time to go into the wild with Jesus this winter, with hopes of spring and resurrection. Let us, who have life so easy, fast and pray for those who face disaster. Then, with people most in need, together we might say:

I have learned to be content with whatever I have. 12 I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. 13 I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

SERMON: Inner Child

 10:30 am, Sun, Feb 19, 2023 - J G White / FBCA

(Is 49:8-16a; Psalm 131; Mtt 6:24-34)

 This was our fourth Sunday in a row to hear a bit from Jesus’ sermon as recorded in Matthew five, six and seven. Today, that wonderful lesson: do not worry. Here and now, I could say, ‘And why do you worry about your clothing? Consider the forsythia of the field, how they bloom; they neither work nor weave, yet I tell you, even her majesty Elizabeth in all her regalia was not clothed like one of these. So don’t worry about tomorrow. Today is the Tomorrow you worried about Yesterday.’

The centre of my sermon will actually be the Psalm, which we have already read twice, Psalm 131. It seems all about being calm, deep inside. It is rather like another short Psalm, I suppose, Psalm 23. And surely, to be truly calm inside requires not being too worried.  (joke?)

Ours is a day of worries, fears and anxieties. Maybe life has been this way for a long time.

If you can keep your head when all about you  

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you…

said Kipling. Oh, to keep calm and carry on, like the memes say! And little Psalm 131 might inspire us today. That’s how God gets things done – poetry power! Here is another – written by Regina Coupar, based on the Psalm.

when                                   I remember

my soul                               to be where

is quiet                                I am

 

I remember                       I remember

I am you                             eternity is

child                                    now

 

I remember                       when

my mission is                    my soul

love                                     is quiet

Psalm 131 has just three verses, and really only says three things. One: I live my life in a humble way. Two: I’ve kept my soul as calm as a happy toddler with its mother. Three: All God’s people – keep your hope in God, always.

Those words, about my soul being has calm as a happy child, kept my attention this past week. I thought of people I know who just seem to be calm all the time; they must have real peace, shalom, in their souls. I thought of other people I know who often seem upset inside, like there’s a three-year-old having a temper-tantrum within them.

Something this Psalm-writer knew was how to be humble. Probably took a long time to learn that. ‘O Lord, it’s hard to be humble…’ Indeed it is. Too many of us are too proud to be humble, too needy for attention to be humble, or put ourselves down and beat ourselves up us too much: which is not humility.

O Yahweh, my heart is not lifted up,

     My eyes are not raised too high;

I do not occupy myself with things

     Too great and too marvelous for me. (Ps 131:1)

God’s will for you is for you to know yourself, what you are and what you are not. That the is key to humbleness. As I said last week, you are amazing! Some things are too marvelous for you, yes, but other incredible things are within your power. I know you are amazing, because I have talked with many of you. Your capabilities, your spiritual gifts from God, your life lessons that have trained you are marvelous. Don’t forget those words of Jesus to his disciples of old: ‘Amen, amen, I tell you, the one who believes in Me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.’ (Jn 14:12)

But I have calmed and quieted my soul,

Like a weaned child with its mother;

My soul within me is like a weaned child. (Ps 131:2)

As people who have received Jesus, we have this gracious possibility. I called this sermon ‘Inner Child,’ but as usual, I am playing with words; so I am not really talking about the psych-ology of dealing with the inner parts of you that are child-like, and might need healing or need to be parented and grow up. I am simply speaking of the soul, the human soul. The soul of which Psalm 131 speaks.

What is the soul? Some deep, inner part of us? Your spirit, which could get separated from you physical body? Or is it truly your whole self, mind, heart, will, and body? However a Christian describes the soul, we could say it is you, the centre of you – who you truly are. To calm yourself, your soul, is a step on the path of life, life with God.  

How do you calm your soul? You likely have a few ways, even if you are looking for more.

How about… quiet time outside? Lately, I have got back out to some wild places near here, to enjoy the fresh air, the winter scenes, and all. The other day I wandered along the Maccan River, and sat for a while on a fallen log to watch the ice creak and crack and move with the incoming tide. I timed my visit for when the tide was flowing in and filling the ice-laden river. I expected all sorts of crashing and banging and sloshing of the multi-coloured ice. Instead, it was remarkably quiet, with just the occasional creak and gurgle. I gazed upon the lush lichens on the evergreen tree branches. I saw some mergansers fly by, a couple of Canada geese, one young eagle, and heard a woodpecker. I enjoyed a very peaceful, slow time.

Don’t we see Jesus heading off to deserted places, quite regularly, during His busy years? He took his disciples along.

What refreshes your soul, and quiets you? How about… music? We are having some ‘special music’ here today, the Fellas being our guests here. Some of the music they share is familiar – and may be special to you – and some may be new to you. ‘Troublin Mind’ was one I had never ever heard of, but now I know it. Some of those simple lyrics I have not yet figured out – yet that is how music and poetry work. They work before we even understand.

Together we sang ‘Be Still My Soul.’ We could just as easily have sung ‘It is well, it is well, with my soul.’ A hymn I know, but you might not, is ‘Hark, My Soul, It Is the Lord,’ from 1768. One of the verses echoes Isaiah 49:15. God’s word:

Can a mother’s tender care

     Cease toward the child she bare?

Yes, she may forgetful be,

     Yet will I remember thee.

The Isaiah reading that Ed shared is one of those many poetic moments when God’s people of old were given hope, in the face of their exile and loss of their homeland. This moment reminds us that the care of the human soul is not done alone. We are in community, we are made for each other, salvation is in fellowship. We see this illustrated in the third verse of Psalm 131.    O Israel, hope in the LORD

From this time on and forevermore.

After those personal, individual words about being humble and being calm inside, the whole people are to put their hope in God. These things go hand in hand – perhaps are inseparable. For our inner soul to be like a calm, happy child, we cannot be alone. And we are not. But we must know that fact.

Troublin mind. Any song like that is trouble shared, and in the sharing, a bit of peace comes into the soul. Songs like this remind us we are not alone in our troubles. Notice these who got named:          

                Mary and Martha, Peter and John:

they had trouble all night long.

Troublin mind, troubling mind;

God's gonna ease my troublin mind.

To have your soul calmed like a carefree child, share your soul, share the journey. We put our hope in God more easily, more inspired, with the fellowship of faith. As someone said, there are no ‘Lone Ranger Christians.’

So you are (or can be) part of the soul-care team. We have responsibility to care for others. We have this ministry. To some degree, we are our brother’s keepers.

Our congregation, like so many others, has our Annual Meeting coming up. All our reports are going to print, including a few financial plans for this year. More important could be: how have we all cared for other souls? Perhaps we have fifty-three Sundays this year to acknowledge that.

I’ve kept my feet on the ground,

        I’ve cultivated a quiet heart.

Like a baby content in its mother’s arms,

       my soul is a baby content.

Finally, is what could be first. You could spend some time asking Jesus what He thinks of this Psalm, and what calming the soul within can look like.