January 15th 2023

Sermon By Rev Joel Crouse

It’s January, the high of Christmas is gone, the sun has gone missing, the snow is falling heavily, you’re back at work or staring down exams or bored with inside living. There is a sense in our fair city of grin-and-bear-it until spring arrives. So let me tell you two stories that cheered me up this week. The first is about an 11-year-old named Jude Kofie in Colorado. Money is tight in his house: his parents are from Ghana, and they are working hard to raise their family in the United States, while still sending money back to Africa to help relatives there. Jude has autism, but one day, he finds a battered old keyboard in the home his parents rent and start playing. He had never had a lesson, and yet, he was making wonderful music. Along came Bill Magnusson, a piano tuner. He didn’t know the Kofie family, but he’d heard about Jude. Using money from an inheritance, he bought a grand piano for the young prodigy, and offered to tune it every week, and cover lessons for Jude. “All for free,” Jude’s father said. “Who does that?” A few days later, another story caught my attention: This one was about a veteran named Butch Marion, who, at 82, was still working as a cashier at Walmart to pay his bills. Rory McCarty happened to cross paths with him one day and decided this was an injustice he could correct. Using his following on Tik Tok, he raised $100,000 and gifted it to Butch – enough money for him to quit his job and finally retire, and maybe visit his kids in Florida. A few days after that, a study came out: a group of researchers in Ohio had divided up patients with anxiety and depression into three groups: two groups received regular treatments such as therapy or social activities. But the third group was assigned acts of kindness – they had to perform three acts of kindness a day, for at least two days of the week. The acts were simple – they gave a ride to a friend, or left a happy message for their roommate, or baked cookies to cheer somebody up. All three groups saw their mental health improve – but researchers suggested that the acts of kindness had the edge – people in that group felt more deeply connected to others. And in fact, when I sat down to read the gospel early this week, it all came together. Bill Magnusson created a connection with Jude Kofie and his family. Rory McCarty created a link with social media followers that led to Butch Marion. Those acts of kindness in the study created more connections – tying people – strangers – together into community. And that’s what our gospel is essentially about: the power of the gospel to spread, to connect strangers, to build community. We can see how that story grew – John the Baptist meets Jesus. Two men standing by encounter them together the next day and are welcomed into the fold as disciples. From there, more disciples are added, more followers join the crowd. The community grows. And it travels, not on the dusty roads of Jesus’s day, but through time, across thousands of years, to connect to us sitting here in 2023. We are all connected. But not by hate or fear. We are connected by the welcome one stranger showed another: by the generosity of acquaintances, and by the kindness of friends. Without that welcome and generosity and kindness, there is no story at all; the link would be broken. “Come and see,” Jesus says to those two newcomers. Come and see. And in this way, Jesus calls them into his circle. This week, our Service Committee met together – and it was another heartwarming experience to observe. People coming together from our three congregations full of ideas not for how to save money or pay bills – but how to be kind in giving. How to answer the question: Who will we be? How to respond to the call from Jesus: to come and see what the gospel can do. Now I know I talk about kindness a lot. But there is a reason for that. I fully believe that kindness works best when it is a deliberate practice, when we get a booster in how to accomplish it. But also, I see every day, the truth of those stories. People who become happier and feel younger when they focus on giving to other people. And I see what those actions offer those who receive them, reminding them of good in the world often when they need it most. January can be a grumpy month. But only if we let it. We are connected to those first disciples who, in our reading this morning, are meeting Jesus for just the first time. We know the life-changing epiphany that awaits them; how their lives will be forever changed. They answered the call: “Come and see.” The same call we hear from Jesus. The same calls that connect us. Come and see who I am, Jesus says. Come and see the need of the world. Come and see the kindness we can accomplish together. Amen

Story of Bill and Jude

https://www.facebook.com/1077TheIsland/?comment_id=Y29tbWVudDoxMDE1NzYwNj IxMjczODM4N18xMDE1NzYwNjIxNTk4MzM4Nw%3D%3D

Story of Butch and Rory

https://www.entrepreneur.com/business-news/82-year-old-retires-from-walmart-afterfundraiser-goes-viral/442537

Ohio Study

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2023/01/230110103424.htm H

January 8th 2023

Sermon By Rev Joel Crouse

In 2017, a woman named Melanie Vogel set out to walk alone across the country - east to north to south. I heard a lot about Melanie Vogel in the week leading up to Christmas – some of you may have seen Erin’s story in The Globe and Mail. Yes, Ms. Vogel eventually achieved her ambition. It took five years. She walked through every kind of weather you can imagine – hailstones the size of golf balls, blizzards, and rain storms. And across every kind of terrain – through prairies, over mountains, across rivers. She had to stop in the Yukon to wait out the pandemic. But eventually, she made it from Cape Spear, Nfld, to Victoria, BC. Along the way, she met a stray dog she called Malo, who won everyone’s hearts - including her own. She was hosted and helped by all kinds of people in every part of the country. She earned the title as the first woman to hike the Trans Canada Trail – the longest hiking trail in the world – reaching the Atlantic, Arctic, and Pacific Oceans. Her hike was 20,000 kilometres. But this achievement, as my wife can tell, was incidental – it was the journey that drew Melanie to the trail, the call to renew her restless spirit in nature. To walk, and think, and experience the world, slowly and mindfully. Journeys captivate us; as a species, we are often tied to one place, we feel attached to that place even when we are away from it. But yet we admire those who get up and go somewhere, who seek out adventure and uncertainty. We talk to ourselves about the journeys of our lives, through time and places. About moving through grief. We look for what lies on the other side: the searching and seeking. The Christmas story is, in essence, a collection of journeys, real and metaphorical. Or, I should say, physical journeys that became spiritual ones. Mary and Joseph start things off, heading to Bethlehem; and their journey is characterized by resilience and determination, for surely it was sheer force of will that kept a pregnant Mary on that donkey, and a resolved Joseph at her side. Then we have the Shepherds, our leading acts last Sunday, whose journey from the field to the manger scene demonstrates courage and curiosity. And now, this Sunday, we follow the Magi, travelling from the East, tangling with and outsmarting Herod, and finally reaching this Baby everyone has been taking about. Everyone in our story had to travel to find God; they had to make a journey. God didn’t just come to them; they also went to God. And they did so, not knowing for certain how it would turn out, only trusting that it would. The Magi knew they were risking their necks to continue on their way, not sharing with Herod what they knew and learned. Yet what we sing most about them is not their guile in Herod’s palace, but the journey they made, travelling far, from the East. It is the ambition of their journey that captivates us. Melanie Vogel started out alone on her hike; but she was not alone, in fact for long. What I found most inspiring about her story is that she seemed, even in times of despair, to get what she needed. Running from a disturbing encounter with a strange man, she encounters a woman who offers her a hug and a place to stay. When she needs more confidence winter camping, a couple she has just met help her practice. When she is lonely, she finds company; when she is cold, she finds a hospitable home. When she is losing her spirit on the trail, along comes Malo, at the right time. When she needs community, she is not alone. This should remind us of all the absent people in the Christmas story whom we don’t read about, who aren’t immortalized along the way. Surely, along all our three journeys, there must have been helping hands – strangers who offered to share a warm fire with a young couple expecting a baby; villagers willing to feed the shepherds; watchful eyes ready to warn the Magi. But of course, what we learn from Melanie Vogel’s story, and from our Christmas journeys, is that community doesn’t just happen. Ms. Vogel created openings for those welcoming gestures by being friendly and taking an interest in the world around her; at times, when she most wanted to stop, and she was all alone, she was her own supportive community. Her journey – like the Christmas story – was external, and internal; it required strength of purpose, strength of spirit, and the strength of people. Now, we are not all of us, readying in on a physical journey. But the metaphor is a good one; we don’t need to be stuck in one place. We can move with purpose in the direction that we want to go. Like the travellers at Christmas, we too can be resilient and curious and crafty – and keep our eye on our destination. But we rarely get there alone. Even our Christmas traveller s had one another to lean on. Community helps us along the way – if we have the openness to welcome it and accept support. I think that’s what really draws me to the idea of a journey; the openness it requires. If your mind is closed, you can’t go anywhere. Starting a journey suggests a desire to be renewed or changed into something better. It says we are not stuck. We can honour a journey for its own purpose; the destination is part of it – and good to have, but it is not the only thing. Journeys can happen at any time in life; the wisest people I know are always travelling toward God. This year is only a week old. A journey just started. May we be resilient, and curious, and crafty; may we slow down enough to find community for ourselves and create it for others; and may we never be stuck. May we keep travelling toward God. Amen.

January 1st 2023

Sermon By Rev Joel Crouse

As is tradition for the turn into a new year, social media and newspapers are full of advice and warnings. “New Year’s Resolution: Be More Incompetent,” read one headline, which I quickly demonstrated by not being able to open the story. The Globe and Mail offered this inspiring gem: “Your New Year’s Resolution Should include the Five Pillars of Tax Planning.” Don’t bother, some commented: 80 per cent of people fail at their resolutions anyway. For the determined, Time Magazine helpfully promised: “How NOT to Fail at your New Year’s Resolutions.” The article included the advice to avoid whatever is tempting you in the first place – your chocolate, or that glass of wine – and scored extra points, at least with me, for referencing one of my favourite literary characters. Odysseus, the article noted, did not just try to tune out the Sirens, whose songs drew ships and their crew to certain doom; he stuffed his ears so he didn’t hear them; he made a plan. So should we all – make a plan. But one article in The Washington Post proposed an entirely different idea: don’t make a resolution; find what is called a single nudge- word. The author, Tara Parker-Pope, encouraged the reader to pick a word “that captures the mindset you want to adopt this year.” To find that word, she outlined three steps: write down the things that made you happy in 2022. Think about the parts of your life that could be better. And check in on your body – how you feel, physically and mentally. From there, look for a word that inspires you. It might relate to change or connection, for instance. Gratitude was one example; so was balance. Yes, the idea of making a new year’s resolution about one sentence, or a single word, is, of course simplistic. But the idea behind it is sound. We are all renovation projects for ourselves. There is always something we could do even just a little bit better. But the idea of reflecting on what that is is a good practice. Our faith lives encourage us to do this every day, not just once a year. But we tend to fall out of the habit. We lose our intentionality around the gospel’ and count on it just to seep into our bones. So this morning our gospel returns to the shepherds, and I don’t think that’s an accident. The story is really focused on the naming of Jesus – a significant confirmation of God’s prophecy, but, to be honest, I think we could always count on Mary to make sure that happened. The shepherds were always a wild card – a lot like us. Let’s consider them again. Who would they be today? People doing a job to pay the bills, making friends at work, supporting their families. For most of us that’s not in a field under the stars; it’s in one kind of building under fluorescent lighting. If we are lucky, we get fulfillment from our jobs; like the shepherds who loved the sheep and being outdoors. But then, one night, working late, somebody appears before you, a person of depth and authority – and they say: “My news will change your life. Put down that work; what you thought was important isn’t the most important thing anymore. What I have to say will help you re-evaluate your life; you just have to trust me.” What would we do? What would most people do? They’d doubt the suddenly-appearing person and go back to their work. They’d be afraid of taking the risk and go on with life as it is. How many would do as the shepherds - set what they know aside and head off to Bethlehem? This call story, however, is all through the gospel. Jesus will later urge the disciples to come with him, leave their lives, and be fishers of people. We are told, over and over again, that following the gospel means change and renewal and risk. And also, that it is our choice. After all, we hear only about the people who answer that call; not the ones who refuse it. What do we know about what happened to the shepherds afterwards? Not really that much, but also everything we need to know. They left the manger, glorifying God and spreading word of what they had seen. So we know that they told people about Jesus. But we may also assume that they change their lives – they made different choices, sought new connections, saw the world differently. For how else does one glorify God, but by living out the gospel? In fact, from a Christian perspective, I think The Washington Post was on to something. Aside from the Word of God, the gospels give us a whole collection of good words to guide us. Words like faith. Words, as our children taught us, like joy, peace, charity, love, and hope. And so, what do the shepherds teach us, on this first day of the New Year? They teach us to be mindful of the messages around us, the guides who appear to show us new wisdoms and reveal the presence of God. They show us how change is possible when we take risks, on other people, but also with ourselves. And they return us to the gospel, revealing our call to glorify God, not only with the stories we tell, but also with our values and beliefs. So, choose your word – the gospel has a list of them. Maybe you will pick love – and use that as your reminder of a gospel-led life. Maybe it will be charity, a reminder to see the better side of people, and be generous with your own spirit. Perhaps you will choose hope – to see the world through grace-centred eyes. Maybe it will be faith, a choice to believe each day in what is good and right. Pick any one, and the gospel can be found. Pick any of these words, and you find positive change, and a path to glorifying God. When you choose, thank the shepherds, who set the example, and taught us their important lesson. Happy New Year! Amen.