Trinity

Let us pray.

O God, may your delight in us

Teach us to delight in you

And in the world you have created.

Amen.

…………..

Jerry Seinfeld once joked that

In every movie or television show

With characters from the future,

They’re always wearing the same thing.

They’ve got one outfit,

To represent the earth,

It’s the earth outfit,

Like in Star Trek, where they’ll all got colour-coded shirts for their jobs.

Seinfeld says he looks forward to this day,

And he’s not alone.

There is a deep-rooted desire

In a whole lotta people

For sameness.

For uniformity.

At clergy conference this week,

Archdeacon Travis talked about ways that European settlements

Were set up

With walls around the outside

And one entry point.

It was considered a safety measure, by those Europeans,

In contrast to the communities of the First Nations,

Unwalled,

With many and various ways to enter.

But there’s something deep inside some of us,

I’m not sure if it’s an evolutionary adaptation or what,

But something within us

Finds safety in sameness.

In folks who are just like us.

Who dress like us

And talk like us.

We’ve got one outfit

So that we all know

That we’re on the same team

And a wall around us

To keep the opposing team

Out.

But, as we have been witnessing,

For the last several weeks,

God doesn’t work like that!

God does not share our delight

In sameness.

God delights

In diversity.

We saw this three weeks ago in our lesson from Acts,

As we heard the story of the conversion of Cornelius.

The Holy Spirit fell upon him and blessed him,

Before Peter could explain to him the rules,

The ways that he would need to change,

The single, solitary entry point

That absolutely everyone would need to go through

In order to join the team.

Two weeks ago,

We heard Jesus pray

That we all may be one,

Not the same,

But together,

Because we don’t all need to wear the same thing

To be on the same team.

And then last week,

On Pentecost,

We heard the story of the miracle

Of the speaking in tongues.

And here’s the tell,

The real tell

Of God’s desire for diversity,

Not sameness.

The miracle of Pentecost

Isn’t that suddenly everyone could understand Greek or Aramaic

Or whatever language the disciples were

Proclaiming the Good News in.

The miracle of Pentecost is that

The disciples began to speak in other languages,

Different languages,

Because God’s goal isn’t to erase difference,

It’s to bridge it.

And today,

On Trinity Sunday,

We see this truth

Is at the very heart

Of God’s own being.

…………

In order to understand this a little better,

I want us to take a look at our reading from Proverbs today.

It’s a reading about Lady Wisdom.

Wisdom, in Proverbs and in a few other books of the Old Testament,

Is personified as a woman.

And in the passage we heard today,

She gets pretty loud.

I want to read some of it again,

Using a translation, well not really a translation,

More a paraphrase of the Bible

Called The Message.

Hear what it says:
“Do you hear Lady Wisdom calling?

Can you hear Madame Insight raising her voice?

She’s taken her stand at First and Main,

at the busiest intersection.

Right in the city square

where the traffic is thickest, she shouts,

“You – I’m talking to all of you,

everyone out here on the streets!

Don’t miss a word of this – I’m telling you how to live well.

God sovereignly made me – the first, the basic –

before he did anything else.

I was brought into being a long time ago,

well before Earth got its start.

I arrived on the scene before Ocean,

yes, even before Springs and Rivers and Lakes.

Long before God stretched out Earth’s Horizons,

and tended to the minute details of Soil and Weather,

And set Sky firmly in place,

I was there.

Day after day I was there, with my joyful applause,

always enjoying his company,

Delighted with the world of things and creatures,

happily celebrating the human family.”

You see, the author of Proverbs is concerned.

That people are not listening to Wisdom.

That they aren’t sure how to live well.

And so she takes up her spot

At First and Main,

Or 100thand 100th, here in Edmonton,

To share her insights

In the midst of the community.

The insight that she shares

Sure doesn’t sound like the advice we often hear.

It sure doesn’t sound like tips and tricks

Or life hacks

To get ahead

And live better than our neighbours.

No, the wisdom Madame Insight offers

Is one of delight.

Delight in God,

In all God has created,

Happily celebrating the human family.

Lady Wisdom might be better known to us

As the Holy Spirit,

Since that is how she came to be known

In the Christian community.

And we see here the extraordinary beauty of diversity

Even within God, Godself.

For God is one.

But God is not the same.

God is united.

But God is not uniform.

God does not delight in sameness.

God is, in Godself,

Diversity.

Father AND Son.

Son AND Holy Spirit.

Eternally united,

Locked in relationship,

All differences bridged

But not erased.

Another thing Archdeacon Travis said at clergy conference,

Is that in Cree, the word for God,

Creator,

Isn’t a noun.

It’s a verb.

Because God is always active.

God is on the move.

And when you think about it,

It makes sense.

C.S. Lewis pointed out that when we say God is love,

How could God be love,

The noun,

Without first loving.

And to love,

God needs someone to be loved.

The very heart of God is a relationship,

Active, on the move,

Made up of love.

God is not static,

Frozen in time.

God is on the move.

And in fact,

God’s movement is a particular one.

It’s not just an eternal dance,

As some Trinitarian preachers proclaim.

God moves

With purpose.

And that purpose is one of invitation.

It’s taking up a spot

Right in the city square

At the busiest intersection.

God invites us

Into this eternal relationship.

God the Word

Became flesh in Jesus of Nazareth

And dwelt among us.

This was the ultimate bridging of difference.

God and sinners reconciled,

As the Christmas carol says.

And after his death and resurrection,

When he ascended into heaven,

That flesh,

That humanity,

That us-ness

That was in the image of God

But had been divided from God,

Became united with all of Godself. /

The eternal relationship,

The eternal dance,

The very reality of love

Now includes us.

Our humanity.

Wisdom’s delight in the human family

Is made complete,

As humanity itself

Is invited further up and farther in.

God didn’t build a wall to shut us out.

God didn’t even wait for us

To stumble around it

To find the one way in.

God came out

To find us,

Her delight,

And invite us to join the team.

Not because we are the same as God

But because we are different.

And because God delights

In bridging that difference

To bring together

That which had been kept apart,

Happily celebrating the human family.

The future we seek,

Christians seek,

Isn’t one of sameness.

There isn’t one earth outfit

We should all get ready to wear.

Because our God delights not in sameness

But in diversity.

And God is on the move

Inviting more and more different kinds of people in.

Amen.

 

1st Sunday in Lent

Let us pray.

Lord, our adversary prowls like a lion.

But you are a God who steps into the arena.

Who does not leave us on our own.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

……………….

On Ash Wednesday, we gathered to mark our heads

With ashes and with dust.

We remembered that we are going to die.

It’s a weird thing to do

With one’s Wednesday night, isn’t it?

“What’d you do last night?”

“Oh, nothing special.

Just put dirt on my head

And remembered I’m going to die one day, you?”

There’s something powerful about it as a ritual, though.

It’s so compelling that strangers at bus stations and on thoroughfares

Find themselves drawn to participate,

Even when they don’t know exactly what it means

Or why they’re doing it.

It’s visceral.

You can feel the dirt spreading on your forehead

As surely as dirt will be dropped on your casket one day.

We don’t talk like that very often,

Perhaps because we’d rather not imagine that unthinkable future.

That, as Sarah Condon writes,

Devastating impossibility that always happens.

Death gets shoved aside, often.

We are asked to die neatly in special hospice centres

Set aside for the purpose

And within 6 months our family members will be told,

“Oh gosh, surely you’ve moved on by now, right?”

When I served in the Peace Corps in a small village in northwestern Ukraine

Just 30 kilometers from the Polish border,

Death was right in the middle of things.

A whacking great war memorial made up most of the town centre

And everybody knew somebody who’d died in the war

If not in the military

Than in the famine

In the Holocaust

In the aftermath.

When my Ukrainian tutor’s husband was tragically killed,

His funeral wasn’t just open casket

It was open bier.

We set him on a platform

And after the funeral

We loaded him up on a flatbed truck

And processed behind it to the cemetery

Where he was buried

Among rainbow coloured streamers.

The Orthodox have a hymn they sing on such occasions

“Receive, O earth,

The body formed of you

By the hand of God

And again returning to you as its mother.”

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

Earth to earth.

Everyone dies.

Even Jesus.

Death seems close to Jesus in this story of the temptation in the wilderness.

He’s out in the wilderness

Away from the crowds that surrounded John

Baptizing in the Jordan River.

His humanness feels especially apparent.

He’s hungry, Luke tells us.

Our God

Feels hunger.

He’s dirty, no doubt.

He’s got sand clinging to him everywhere

As he waits for whatever insight

The Holy Spirit is trying to show him

Out there in the wilderness.

And then the devil turns up.

Isn’t that just always the way?

Always kicking you when you’re down.

And he tests Jesus

With three temptations:

First, with material comfort.

An end to his very human pains.

Second, with glory and authority,

The ability to do whatever he wants.

Third, with proof of his status

As the Son of God.

That always strikes me, every year,

That the devil begins his taunts with this insidious word “IF.”

“IF you are the Son of God.”

Which implies that maybe even Jesus

Isn’t entirely sure yet

Of who he is

And who God is calling him to be.

Down here in this very human muck

Feeling these very human feelings

It would be easy to doubt

Even if he did remember

The glory he’d set aside.

That’s the really extraordinary thing about Jesus, I think.

That, though he was in the form of God,

He did not regard equality with God as a thing to be grasped

Clung to

Taken advantage of,

But emptied himself

To come and join us down here on the earth.

With dirt on his forehead.

And even when the devil

Made him question

If he even really was the Son of God anymore

He didn’t take the bait.

He didn’t abandon us in the dirt.

We worship a God

Who gets down in the muck where we live

Even when it’s awful

Even when it’s dirty and gross and visceral and physical and tragic and heartbreaking

And who stands in the brink

When the devil comes to call

And says “Yes, I am the Son of God.

Not in spite of this but because of this.

Because I am down in the dirt with my people.”

God does not run away from us in the difficult times.

God does not ask us to suffer neatly

Away

Far from Him

So that nobody has to think about how the changes and chances of this life

Are too often a devastating impossibility

That always happens.

God joins us in the dirt.

He hungers and he thirsts.

And ultimately the earth He created

Receives his body

As a mother.

This Lent, as Jan Richardson writes,

“Let us be marked

Not for sorrow.

And let us be marked

Not for shame.

Let us be marked

Not for false humility

Or for thinking

We are less

Than we are

But for claiming

What God can do

Within the dust

Within the dirt,

Within the stuff

Of which the world

Is made.”

Our God makes beautiful things out of dust.

Our God chose to become dust

With us

And held to it even when the devil tormented him for it.

Because he loves we who are his image

That much.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

Baptism of Our Lord (1st Sunday After Epiphany)

Let us pray.

Lord Jesus,

At your baptism you demonstrated there was nowhere you would not go

To show your faithfulness to us.

Grant that all who have been baptized in your name

May remain faithful to you.

Amen.

……………..

Over the holidays I went to see the movie Aquaman.

It is a supremely dumb film,

But it’s a lot of fun,

So if you go in with the right expectations,

It’ll be a good time.

As you might expect,

It’s a movie about the sea,

And the creatures that live therein.

Early on, a teacher tells Aquaman’s grade school class

That we have better maps of the surface of Mars

Than we do of the ocean floor.

That’s true, by the way, NASA confirms it,

And the main characters in the movie are kingdoms and tribes of beings

Who live undetected by people like us,

Whom they call surface-dwellers.

The ocean is an unknown place,

Filled with hidden dangers,

Perhaps not the fish monsters put forward by blockbuster movies,

But dangers all the same.

In Jesus’s time,

The ocean was thought to be a symbol of chaos,

And the abode of evil spirits.

I mentioned last summer that in the Enuma Elish,

A Babylonian creation story,

Creation itself is conquest of Tiamat, the goddess of chaos

And the sea,

And the Psalmist uses these images

As he sings of God’s victory over the great sea creature Leviathan.

The depths of the ocean are unknown,

And frightening to us even now,

How much more so to our ancestors

Who had told and retold these ancient stories

Of the monsters hiding in the deep?

And so today we celebrate the feast

Of the Baptism of Our Lord.

The Baptism of Our Lord is something of a surprising feast.

The story of Jesus’s baptism is told in all four gospels,

Even those gospels that do not tell the story of his birth.

It’s Jesus’s first public act as an adult.

It’s remarkable that these gospels,

Who so rarely agree on the order in which events

In Jesus’s life happen,

Sometimes even where or how they happened

Agree on this.

And yet it makes no sense theologically.

Because the baptism that John was offering

Was for the remission of sin.

The book of Acts makes clear the distinction between Christian baptism

Commanded by Jesus

After his resurrection

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,

And the baptism of John,

Which is a ritual washing away of sin.

But the Scriptures are also clear

That Jesus,

Our Saviour,

Did not sin.

Jesus did not need his sins to be washed away in baptism

As we do,

Because he was without sin.

So why was he baptized?

There are many reasons, I think,

But one of them, surely, was because of water.

Jesus begins his ministry

By being submerged in water.

He has entered the home of the evil spirits.

He has completed God’s victory over Leviathan,

By entering Leviathan’s abode.

Scott Sharman, a priest in this diocese,

Posted an Eastern Orthodox icon depicting Jesus’s baptism this week.

“See how the monsters hiding in the deep

Scramble to flee as his body touches the water,”

He says.

The Baptism of Our Lord Jesus

Is a continuation of the sign of the Incarnation

Began at Christmas:

That there is nowhere God will not go

For the love of his Creation.

All those places of our lives

That we keep hidden,

The places where evil loves to dwell,

The secret corners of our mind that torment us

With worry, fear, anger, despair

Those places are not closed off to God,

And God will conquer them too,

For our sake.

No matter what monsters of the deep

Threaten our peace of mind,

God is there.

No matter what unknown futures

Send us into spasms of worry,

God is there.

No matter how often we feel crushed by the pressure of the waters around us,

God is there.

We who are baptized

Can journey through the deepest waters

Because our God went there first.

And so today we come to baptize Malik.

In so doing,

His parents and godparents,

And all of us, really,

Will make some pretty big promises.

Promises that sometimes feel too overwhelming to keep.

At our rehearsal,

I mentioned to the family that when we promise to

“Respect the dignity of every human being,”

It really does mean EVERY human being,

Not just those who respect our dignity in return.

That’s a hard promise.

We promise to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ,

Which means we can’t prioritize our own wealth or safety

Over that of our neighbours.

That’s a hard promise.

We make these promises

Not because we are confident in our own ability to keep them,

24/7/365

All the days of our lives,

But because we are confident

That the Lord who is faithful

Who came among us as one of us

Because he did not choose to be God without us

Who went down unto the abode of evil and chaos itself

To show us the safe way through

Will not let the rivers overwhelm us.

Whatever waters are rising in your life,

Know that the God who has stretched to fill the deepest depths,

Beyond what we even still know,

Thousands of years later,

Will never forsake you or abandon you.

We who have been sealed in baptism

And marked as Christ’s own forever

Can be confident

That even in the deepest waters

We will fear no evil

For God is with us.

Amen.