Monthly Archives: January 2017

Timothy and Titus, Companions of Paul

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Sermon given at Clergy Day for the Diocese of BC, January 26, 2017 at St John the Baptist, Cobble Hill. 

Texts: 2 Corinthians 8:16-19, 23-24 and John 10:14-18

In attendance: all of the clergy of the Diocese of British Columbia, the BC House Sisters of St John the Divine, BC Synod Office staff, and former TEC Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori. No pressure…
The Eucharistic liturgy this day was entirely prepared and led by those of us who had been ordained last year: everything from presiding at the table to leading prayers to playing music to preaching.

Imagine being Timothy or Titus.

Young converts to Christianity and in ministry, mentored by the Apostle Paul, able to follow their passion into an exciting and adventurous life of ministry – the sailing voyages, over-land treks, different people to meet and places to explore… shipwrecks, poisonous snakes, being chased out of town…the excitement of it all! And they also must have felt all to keenly the insecurities, the fears, and uncertainties that also come with this life – at any age.

But – even with all of those different adventures and the emotions that most certainly would have gone along with them, what the church remembers Timothy and Titus for is what we commemorate today: being companions of Paul.

Paul clearly states the importance of their ministry to him in the letter to the church at Corinth that we heard read this morning: “Titus is my partner and co-worker in your service…” and we know much the same about Timothy from the book of Acts – Paul wanted to have Timothy accompany him on his mission trips. Both Timothy and Titus were considered friends, partners, and companions of Paul and were an integral part of the work that God was doing in their world.

Partner. Companion. Associate. One who shares in in anything and everything. Paul could count on these two – one a Greek and the other of both Greek and Jewish descent – to not only provide companionship while travelling together but also he could count on them to continue the work when Paul was not there, sending them into places on his behalf. Such trust. Such love. Such partnership.

It is appropriate, then, that these two who were so important to Paul in his life and ministry are commemorated on the day following our commemoration of Paul. Yesterday was the Feast of the Conversion of Paul and, in many of our communities here on the Islands and around the world, it is the feast that draws to a close the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.

Christian Unity –  The week when churches and denominations that might never gather together at any other time, set aside some of those differences to find common ground in prayer.

Granted, some of you live that reality every week as you minister in Anglican-Lutheran or Anglican-United shared ministries. Or as you minister in contexts that work very closely with neighbouring congregations, leaders of different traditions, or the Elders in your communities.  Yet, each year we intentionally set aside a week to pray, as Jesus did, that we might be one as God is one.

These words that Jesus prayed as he approached the cross hold up for us the ultimate model of partnership… And that call to unity is echoed throughout the scriptures, including in our gospel this morning.

We are used to hearing this gospel in the season of Easter. On Good Shepherd Sunday. It is a gospel reading that many of you who have been in ministry a lot longer than me have probably preached on dozens of times. So with that in mind, I found myself asking, why is this the gospel appointed for our memorial of Timothy and Titus, the Companions of Paul, and what does that say to us, as gathered clergy and ministry leaders of the Diocese of BC?

Setting aside the familiar imagery of the “Good Shepherd” who lays down their life for their sheep, I became caught by the line:  I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them in also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.

Yes, there are definite challenges to us in reading this passage immediately on the heels of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity –  But no matter how much we might want to get into a “who is in and who is out” debate, we are reminded that there is one flock and one shepherd.

That matters ecumenically. It also matters here, in this place, right now.

Stop — and look around you. Here in this room is a small part of that one flock.  In all of our diversity, our peculiarities, our histories, our dreams and passions. We are all a part of the one flock that belongs to the one Shepherd. And each one of us in this room is a representative of others – equally diverse and equally varied – who are also a part of that flock.

We all have our local places where we minister in different and varied ways, but ultimately: we are all a part of one flock that belongs to one Shepherd. And we partner with God in the mission of God, in acts of reconciliation, in ministering to the gospel. We are partners in God’s mission.

The Eucharist that we are celebrating together this morning is an intentional representation of that. All of those who are sharing in the leadership of the liturgy this morning were ordained – either to the priesthood or to the diaconate – last year. Twelve people! Craig, Selinde, Tanya, Meagan, Rob, Christopher, Alastair, Matthew, Gillian, Patrick, Marg, and Bill.

–And this morning’s liturgy comes from our commitment to each other and to each other’s ministries: that we will partner with each other, that we will be companions and support, uphold, and encourage each other. That we are all a part of one flock. That we all belong to one Shepherd.

So not only does this gospel remind us that all Christians are called to unity, but that all of us together in this room are called to unity. That “One Flock” does not mean parish or diocese, but it means church. When I build up one part of the flock, I build up the whole flock – whether that part that I build is my immediate ministry context or another context. When I build up the local church, I build up the diocese and I build up the church national and international. That these parish, diocesan, and national, and provincial divisions are administrative in nature and are not divisions in the flock.

That ultimately it doesn’t matter which parish, deanery, diocese, or province we are ministering in: we are one Church.

Isn’t that what Paul was working for? No longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, no longer male and female… And also Paul’s companions, Timothy and Titus – both Jew and Greek, working together as partners in the gospel.

What a privilege it is for us to partner with God, the one Shepherd, as we all journey as companions in building up the one flock.

Amen.

Sermon for January 15, 2017

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Preached at The Abbey, Victoria
Texts: John 1:29-42, Isaiah 49:1-7

 

This week we re-entered the ordinary.

I love this season – the season after Epiphany – not because it is a season of Ordinary Time in our church’s calendar – but because it is an ordinary that isn’t ordinary. It is the ordinal-ed time, the numbered season where we count the weeks from Epiphany – that wonderful feast where we see Jesus made manifest as the Saviour for all – to Lent – where we travel with Jesus towards his death and then his glorious resurrection.

We visibly show it through changing our church colours to a life-giving green … but the green might be best thought of as a translucent green mixed with white: ordinary time mixed with holy days. And that is a good summary of what this season is all about: looking for the holy, for Jesus made manifest in the midst of the mundane, in the midst of our daily life. All the while looking for little epiphanies where we might see Jesus and find ourselves found over and over again.

***

Perhaps the most frequently used word in our gospel today is some variation on the word for seeing: see, look, watch, seek …

The first major event commemorated by the church in this season after Epiphany is the Baptism of the Lord: Jesus goes down from Galilee to be baptized by John in the Jordan River. All four of the gospels recount the event  —  Sort of.

While Matthew, Mark, and Luke give a play-by-play, all that is said about Jesus’ baptism in the gospel of John is what we heard read today: John the Baptist’s account of SEEING the Spirit descend on Jesus at his baptism:

I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him … I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.

John the Baptist is so convinced of this that he becomes like that guy on the corner with the sign who needs to tell everyone: Look, here is the Lamb of God! As if to say – I saw the Messiah – he is over there! Do you see him walking by? That is him! Go!
And two of John’s followers turn and follow Jesus.

It obviously wasn’t a very covert follow – there is no way that these two would have passed spy school because Jesus saw them right away: Jesus turns, lifts his eyes into their eyes, and SEES them.

What are you looking for?

Jesus’ first words in the gospel of John aren’t a command to silence a demon, a sermon about the Kingdom of God while sitting on a mountainside, or a proclamation of the year of God’s favour, but a simple question: What are you looking for? 
What are you seeking? What do you need?

It is a question that is simple in its complexity. Because as soon as you have an answer, another, deeper level of question will become apparent.

What are you seeking?
What is motivating you?
What is it that you really need?  — Not just on the surface, but deep down into the very core of your being.
Why are you here? – not here on earth, though that is a valid question, but why did you interrupt your Sunday afternoon to be right here now?
What are you looking for?

Those poor disciples of John. Things get awkward. Quickly. Likely what they wanted to say was something like,  “Um. Hi – we were following you because that other guy said you were the Lamb of God so we thought we’d come take a look…”
What they come out with is Where are you staying?

We can poke fun … But maybe there is more to it than that . Maybe what they really wanted to know was, Where are you dwelling?

Where do you abide?
What lets you put down deep roots into this world and be stable? What is it that allows you to endure life?
What makes you different?
How can we get what you have?

Because there is something different about him. John the Baptist has named it: He is the one on whom I saw the Spirit descend and REMAIN. And in a little while, Jesus will mention this word again: Remain in me and I will remain in you…

Jesus, where are you staying?

Jesus’ only response is Come and See.
Come and see.
There is no judgement here. No negative evaluation of a hurried response when being caught following. No criticism.
Only:  Come and see.

We, and likely those two disciples, tend to expect that what results from responding to the invitation to “Come and See” is that we find Jesus – that we learn more about Jesus as we witness him in all of the different moments of daily life – the ordinary and the holy. And it is. But John’s gospel invites us to see more. It invites us to see and to be changed by seeing.

Jesus said to [the two disciples of John] “Come and see” … so they came and saw where he was staying … and REMAINED with him that day.

Jesus, where are you staying? 

Come and see…Remain with me and I will remain with you…

In remaining, these two disciples are found and they are changed.  How do we know this? How do we know that a change took place in their lives?

For those of you who have children, when were they born? I don’t mean the day – but what time was it?
For those of you who have lost a loved one, what time did they die or what time did you receive the phone call telling you of their death?
For those of you who are married, what time was it when you made that decision to spend the rest of your lives together?

Pivotal, life-changing moments have a time attached to them.

They came and saw where Jesus was staying and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon…

About four o’clock. Someone, one of them at least, took note of the time that their lives were changed.

And then they went and told their friends who came and saw and had their lives changed too … and then they went and told their friends who came and saw … and on and on and on for two thousand years.

That, my friends, is evangelism: Come and see.

John the Baptist does it: he sees the Spirit descend as a dove and he tells his followers. They go and see Jesus, have their lives changed and then go and tell their friends… There are no complex steps to take. There is no complicated theological argument to construct in order to carefully counter any potential resistance.

Just:

What are you looking for?

Where are you staying?

Come and see…

Two thousand years of people asking, people pointing, and people coming to see.

I remember one of my instructors in Bible College saying that the one thing he wanted people to say about him after he died, what he wanted to have written on his tombstone, was, “They saw John and followed Jesus…”

Come and see.

Not “you should go check out that church” or “Here go read this book and then we’ll talk about it…”  But Come and see
Come and see Jesus made manifest in my life – the holy mixed in with the ordinary…

If that sounds too much, remember what God says to the nation of Israel through the prophet Isaiah :

“You are my servant in whom I will be glorified.”

But I said, “I have laboured in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my cause is with the Lord, and my reward with my God.”

And now the Lord says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant, … for I am honoured in the sight of the Lord and my God has become my strength – He says,
“…I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth…
Kings shall see and stand up,
princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful,
the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you…”

You are seen. You are chosen.

And we say to all the world –

Come and see

 

 

Sermon for January 8, 2017: The Baptism of the Lord

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Preached at the Church of St John the Divine, Victoria.
Texts: Isaiah 42:1-9, Matthew 3:13-17

Listen to it here.

 

In his speech at our wedding, my Dad asked a question.

Looking around the church hall at the 150-or-so friends and family members who had just witnessed our wedding vows, Dad asked who amongst those gathered had also been present at and witnessed my or Matthew’s baptisms. About 20 people raised their hands – parents, aunts, uncles, older cousins, and godparents.

Like many Anglicans who have been baptized, I don’t remember my baptism. I was three months old when it happened. But I have heard stories of it – there was even a write up in the diocesan newspaper about the six of us who were baptized that August morning.

But my Dad’s recollection of it at my wedding, and all of those raised hands, was a reminder of the community that was around me then and remains around me now, and it was a window into a bigger story.

 

Which brings us to our readings this morning. In this first story that the writer of gospel of Matthew tells of adult Jesus, Jesus has traveled a bit of a ways south from his home in Galilee. South to the Jordan River.

The Jordan River is one of those places that immediately evokes memories for the people to whom Matthew would have been writing. Perhaps you have a place or places like that – someone mentions “The Lake” and you immediately think of learning how to swim one summer when you were at the cabin on the lake. And then your mind goes back to stories you’d heard of your grandfather fishing on the same lake … Memories and stories and decades – even centuries – of connection and relationship.

Not only is the Jordan River THE River that flows through the land where Jesus lives, but it is a river that has been a part of the stories of his people for centuries. The river that is the site of miracles like a man cured of leprosy or an ax head that floats … and the River that was crossed by his ancestors as they came to The Promised Land out of the wilderness …

And here is Jesus, going down to this River to be baptized by his cousin, John. He has left his immediate family and the place he is familiar with. He has traveled south from Galilee to the Jordan River.  And when he arrives, there is a crowd; John has drawn quite a lot of curious people out to the Jordan River to see what is going on there.

And in this first adult story of Jesus, he asks John to baptize him. That is why John was at the river, after all: he was baptizing there. But John adds a twist to the story – he says no to Jesus.

No – I am not the one to baptize you. In fact, you should be baptizing me!

I am not going to get into a technical discussion about the why and how of baptism and possible theologies for why Jesus should or should not be baptized. Jesus himself doesn’t really get into it other than to say to John – “Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” For Matthew, this language is code for “this is what God wants”

John consents and baptizes Jesus. Jesus goes down under the water. While more familiar baptism scenes for us likely involve fonts in church with a safe splattering of water, I suspect many of us can picture the scene.

Jesus and John, standing up to their waists in the flowing water of the Jordan River. John is already wet from head to toe because he has been baptizing people all morning. Jesus has just waded in to join him. We don’t hear the discussion that went on between them, we just see the scene when John helps Jesus through the simple, familiar actions of baptism.

And for all of us watching the scene, it is done.

But for Jesus, it is just the beginning…

The dove descends and the voice speaks… “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased…”

And with those words, Jesus’ identity is confirmed and his ministry is launched. This is my Son, the Beloved…

God is announcing, once again, that God is become flesh and is dwelling among us. And God is doing it with words meant to evoke a particular ministry. For just as the scene of baptism, the Jordan River, would evoke a set of memories, so would the words…

They bring us back to the prophet Isaiah in our first reading this morning:

Here is my servant, my chosen in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him … I have given you as … a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon … to faithfully bring forth justice …

This song of Isaiah is generally considered to be one of the so-called “servant songs.” Scholars are not in consensus as to whom the servant songs refer. Many of the New Testament writers use them in reference to the Messiah, to Jesus. Others suggest that they may be referring to the nation of Israel.

Likely, there is truth in both: ministry is both individual and communal.

Jesus’ ministry is launched at his baptism – he is publicly acknowledged as God’s son and then he goes – first to the wilderness and then to pull together a group of people to journey in ministry with him.

 

In a few moments we will together walk through the liturgy for the renewal of baptismal vows. For some of us, they will be familiar words that we have spoken many times. For some of us, they are less familiar words that others may have spoken on our behalf and we are only just learning how we might live into them. For some of us, we are struggling to connect them to our lives.

And all of that is okay.

In saying these words, whether baptized or not, whether we remember our baptisms or not, we commit to this ministry that Jesus launched and that we heard outlined in Isaiah:

A ministry that commits to continuing in community – in fellowship, prayer, and breaking bread together,

A ministry that proclaims the good news of God in Christ,

That seeks and serves Christ in all persons,

That strives to safeguard the integrity of God’s creation, respects, sustains, and renews the life of the earth,

And that strives for justice and peace among all people and respects the dignity of every human being.

 

And it recognizes that we cannot do it on our own – not only do we need God’s help, but we need each other. We need each other to walk with, to hold us accountable, to encourage us along the way … And it places us all – as individuals and as a community – as an integral part of a bigger story, a story that holds us and sustains us and a story that connects us across time and place, not only to believers everywhere, but to Jesus, the one who felt and lived our full humanity and who calls us, like he called the disciples, to “come and follow”

As we journey that calling together, remember the words spoken by God at that baptism: You are my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased.