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Sermon by Rev. Joel Crouse


To begin, let’s all take some deep breaths. Perhaps you are in the pew, your face behind a mask, and could use a moment just to breathe intentionally. Or maybe you are at home on Zoom, distracted, or less focused, and not paying attention to your breathing. Please do so now: breathe in deeply, breathe out deeply. Feel calmed. Feel the presence of God.

This is the power of our breath. To center us. To ease our troubled heart, as Jesus tells us. When we are afraid, our breath can steady us. When we are anxious, our breath can calm us. Just paying attention to our breath can transport us away from what is worrying us.

To breathe easily, we take in, and we must give back.

This week, on Facebook, I read a post from Hassan Masri, an ICU doctor in Saskatchewan, who has been working on the front lines of the pandemic. In the post was a loosely-translated Arabic saying that he had happened upon, and that had resonated with him.

In his post was the following: “A wise man said that the simple act of breathing has taught us that to live happily, you need to take some air in and give some air back.”

In other words, he said, “To live a life that is not suffocating, you must take some in, but you must always give back.”

To breathe easily, we must take, and we must give.

I thought of this post when considering our readings for this week. In our first lesson, we get a too-short introduction to Lydia, a woman from the city of Thyatira, and a dealer in purple cloth. And yet she is so much more than that.

Lydia was an extremely prosperous businesswoman. In her time, purple cloth was the very finest to purchase. To get to where she was in life, in the society of the time, Lydia would have had to overcome great odds. We don’t know a lot about her – Did she build her business from scratch? Did she inherit it and continue to build it up? But no matter: she had prevailed as a powerful woman in a world run by men, and despite rules designed to keep her in her place. No wonder, then, that she is given special mention in our first reading this morning from the Book of Acts.

On the Sabbath Day, we hear, Lydia goes down to a place along the river that has been set aside by the authorities for prayer and worship. There she meets Paul and Silas, newly arrived, and takes time to listen to their words. Despite what must have been the pressing business of her day, she pauses to expand her mind. Rather than bury herself in work, she keeps herself open to new ideas. She is ready to breathe in the word of God.

We know from our lesson that she goes home and shares her faith with her household, and they, too, are baptized. And then she invites Paul and Silas into her home, to be her guests. Indeed, she prevails upon them – we are told, and we might imagine just how forceful Lydia can be when she wants something to happen. Having breathed in the Word, she released back generosity and hospitality.

Lydia finds a balance between giving and taking. Basically, the Arabic saying being cited by the good doctor is a reminder to all of us to find that balance. Yet, we all know takers, who suck the air from everyone else for their own purpose. And we all know givers, who are gasping for respite, because they never take any air for themselves. The trick in life is to take in when we are in need – whether that’s when we need wisdom, when we need rest, when we need comfort and care; and to give back the same – wisdom, rest, comfort, and care – in equal measure. We breathe in; we breathe out.

To do otherwise is to suffocate.

This week, perhaps we may all pay attention to our breathing. When are you holding it all inside? What are you doing when you breathe most easily? But also, look around: who are the people who take all the air from others? And who especially are those who give away too much of their own air. Just as we must find balance in our lives, we must step with care to be a loving presence that brings balance to the lives of others. Who might we stop enabling? Who might we help?

Jesus says to us: “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives.” Indeed, he does not: Jesus does not give so that we might only be takers; so we might only breathe in. Jesus gives to us the gospel; and takes only what we can offer of ourselves, and yet inspires us into giving. Amen

Amen.

Anyone who has a teenager – and all of us who were teenagers – know all about pushing and pulling against rules. There are the parental rules: What time is a fair curfew? The arbitrary societal rules: Why can I drive at 16, but not vote until 18?” As adults, during this pandemic, we have also pushed back against rules that felt arbitrary – lockdowns and masks, vaccine mandates. In many ways, this has led to a healthy debate about when rules ae necessary to limit individual choice for the greater good. In Ukraine, we see a terrible war caused by a country that broke the rules of good world order – invading a peaceful nation for selfish ends - and the rest of the world has wrestled with how to respond. Even in our own politics we see the fraying of rules when misinformation and conspiracy theories are knowingly spread as truth.

Of course, rules are complicated. For many centuries, the rule was that certain people – because of gender and race – had no say at all in making the rules. Rules were used to allow violence and sexual assault and murder, to take children from their loving parents, to erase cultures.

And so rules change and adapt and are discarded – people push back against them, and, hopefully, make better rules. And always the people making the rules must ask themselves: whom does the rule serve?

So it is quite remarkable that the rules offered to us in the Ten Commandments remain relevant and purposeful today. Don’t kill, don’t steal, don’t covet, don’t cheat on the people you love. Don’t be carefree with our own faith and beliefs. Be nice to your parents. Take a day off to think about God and your larger role in the world. These are good rules. They are woven deeply through our culture and our institutions.

But following them to the letter is not so easy. What is our duty to abusive parents? If a person kills to protect another, to defend his family, has he broken a commandment? If we divorce and remarry, do we commit adultery? But then along comes Jesus to give us this new commandment: the top of the pyramid, from which all the others flow: Love one another.

Jesus says: Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.

And suddenly, the other Ten Commandments are reframed; they become a supporting foundation for the ultimate goal: that we put love first.

Does that make life less complicated? It does not, unfortunately. But it does give us a firmer place to stand as we try to assess rules, and even the other commandments. Because behind love come other qualities: hope, kindness, forgiveness, patience, openness. And from there we can add nuance to the Ten Commandments.

How does love factor into the commandment around adultery? If it was meant to protect the weaker of the partners, to foster respect and consideration – how can that be a guide as couples go through a breakup? When someone steal or kills, what are the circumstances behind it – and how might we respond with love? Is stealing a loaf of bread the same as stealing money from the poor? Is killing in a war to protect your homeland, the same as murder for selfish gain? Viewed through love, those commandments don’t crumble away; they become more powerful, because they force us to consider the rules we make and the judgements we take to reinforce them. Are we acting from a place of hope, kindness, understanding? Are we acting with love?

One of my kids’ favourite books growing up was called The Lion in the Library. Some of you might know it. It is about a Lion who comes to listen to story time in the library, where the rule is that you have to be quiet. Not everyone loves having the lion there, but he becomes close to one of the librarians. One day she falls and breaks her arm, and the lion roars for help. He is kicked out of the library for breaking the rules. But everyone misses him, and they seek him out and bring him back. And, of course, the moral of the story is its last line: “Sometimes it’s okay to break the rules. Even in the library.”

By giving us this ultimate, endgame commandment, Jesus gave us this very important lesson: Sometimes it’s okay to break the rules: if we are acting, truly and faithfully, from a place of love. Now real-life rules are often more complicated than calling for help in a quiet place because a friend has fallen. But, how often, in fact, do we become rule-sticklers even when someone clearly needs our help, when that rule is causing harm? Too many times, as we well know, past and present.

What Jesus offers us with this commandment to love first, above all else, is both simplicity and complexity. The gospel requires that we challenge ourselves to see each individual situation on its own, to understand motivations and circumstances, to learn context and to be comfortable with nuance – that is what is complex; that is the intellectual journey of faith. But what is simple – what is divine - is the question to which we must always return: Am I responding with love? Amen.


Reflections on the Gospel By


“Theology is not simply a set of truths to believe, it is a path to walk, or a living vision to pursue.” [Boyer and Hall] Martin Luther did not so much set out to reform the church as he did to reform preaching.

The Evangelical Teaching [Lutheran] Church. [Lutheranism is a theological movement within the church catholic]


Today’s gospel sounds so simple: “my sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me.” There are times when it does feel just that clear and easy. On the other hand, the book of revelation, our second lesson, tells us that discipleship develops by passing through a time of great “tribulation,” and our first lesson, the acts of the apostles is full of warnings that faith communities will be tested by internal divisions even as their very character seems to be challenged by new members from every land. This sounds just like today, does it not? One of the reasons the writer of Luke also wrote acts was for the same reason. The early church was struggling with Jewish Christians versus gentile Christians.

Some Jewish critics thought Jesus was destroying Judaism with his teachings. The writer of acts says, that is not so. As we continue the Easter season, current events may be the signs of the times we need to help us understand these mysteries more deeply than ever before. The USA has been ravaged by political divisions, abortion being the latest one, and sad to say we in Canada are not far behind. Who of us in Canada could have ever imagined a political party supporting the honking truckers and now again the honking motorcycles and being told not to say anything about the USA views on abortion? [incidentally it cost us, the taxpayers, 4 million for the Ottawa debacle and $400,000.00 for the Victoria exercise in giving them “free speech.”] At the same time, we have had covid-19 and now the invasion of Ukraine, a situation many have interpreted through biblical images such as David versus goliath, The massacre of the innocents, Or just plainly the attempt of evil to dominate the world. [incidentally, here in Victoria, last week, the pastor of the Ukrainian catholic church, and his family were burned out of their home by an arson.] All of these violent, apocalyptic images make for an interesting contrast with the image of the good shepherd. So, what is scripture telling us today? First, let us look at Paul and Barnabas, in our first lesson, as they are doing their mission in Greek territory. Their preaching seemed to start innocently enough, urging the mixed crowd of ethnic Jews and converts to remain faithful to god’s grace. But what does it mean to be faithful? For Paul, a Pharisee who now preaches Christ, faithfulness implied being open to a new revelation—including the revelation that god’s choice of people was more than just the Israelites. Thus for me, Paul never did convert, he just changed his emphasis. God loves all people. But the trouble came when the traditional group saw the enthusiasm of the gentiles toward this new teaching, the warning bells went off. They were going to be outnumbered and their traditions would be challenged.

Something is not right here, eh? Again, two thousand years later, nothing has changed. The “new” group always threatens the old guard. I, as an old white guy, find myself surrounded by women, people of colour, different religious groups, LGBTQ, and the list goes on. What am I to do?

Well, not that long ago, we were told that if we recognized the rights of gays, they would take over the world. I believe 10% of people were gay then and 10% of people now are gay. Sorry, fear mongers, but gay people taking over the world did not happen. I certainly enjoyed watching our Canadian gay person winning at jeopardy.

Nothing has changed other than all people have rights. What is an old white guy to do? I say to myself, “get over it!” John of Patmos’ revelation is that, People are suffering serious persecution and speaking to others who share their fate throughout history. The writer is using spectacular imagery to assure them that, just as for Jesus, faithfulness will win out in the end. As Diana Butler Bass said, john 21 says, “Caesar does not win.” “Caesar does not get the big fish.” To depict his hope,

John of Patmos describes the immeasurable multitude of people from every time, place and tongue who have remained faithful.

There are no limits to who can participate in this victory celebration.

No matter what they have been through, they now wave peace palms as signs that suffering and conflict have been redeemed and god is here, wiping tears from our eyes.

With counterintuitive imagery, john of Patmos. Tells us that people who will stand rejoicing in Christ’s presence have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the lamb.

Now as i have admitted before, this sacrificing and blood are not my favourite topics. But those ideas were part of their makeup thousands of years ago. What john of Patmos was saying, was that washing our robes in the blood of the lamb meant joining with Christ in his death and resurrection.

For me it means baptism and the Eucharist but not only for those of us who participate in these acts but also the persecuted innocents. We believe in god’s goodness so much that in the midst of torment and gloom, we believe in the forgiveness of all, even our oppressors.

For me, i have to rely on god’s grace, Because, my forgiving of some people will never happen. Thank goodness for the image of the good shepherd. “my sheep hear my voice…they follow me.”The writer of John portrays a good shepherd who lives a life of faithfulness, even when Jesus, the good shepherd, really did not know how his mission was going to turn out.

Today, in this moment of history, these readings take on a radical character and describe the demanding depth of our Christian vocation.

I cannot help mentioning president Biden, a loyal roman catholic, who gets flack from all sides of the “Christian” perspective on his allowing of abortion.

Yes, some of us old white guys do get it right. We must remember that following the good shepherd will lead us to where he goes: And that is into the heart of conflict and suffering. I do not know what happened on Golgotha, but i heard, through scripture, even Jesus saying, “if there was another way, he would rather not die.” Let us be honest, which is so hard for many of my “Christian” friends.

No one, in their right mind, would seek conflict and suffering, But when it comes, as it inevitably will come, We have a guide whose voice speaks through the myriads who have gone before us, and those who listen to god today: “no one has the power to snatch you away.”

My guru, Roger Karban, a roman catholic called Rudolph Bultmann, a Lutheran, the greatest 20th century scholar of Christian scriptures.

Bultmann said, “eventually the preacher became the preached.”

In other words, during his earthly ministry, Jesus preached a reform of Judaism. After his death and resurrection, Jesus became the reform he had preached. This Johannine passage written in the mid-90s speaks about Jesus shepherding the sheep. Earlier Jesus had talked about a good shepherd. Now he speaks about god -as the shepherd.

It was only at the end of the first century that Jesus/god was identified as the good shepherd. Yes, the preacher became the preached.

Thus, the Eucharist becomes the main reason in the celebration of this “new” idea of god.Because it is in the breaking of the bread that we become the good shepherd to one another.

Through the years we forgot that, especially as protestants, and we did prayers and rituals but we forgot the Eucharist which then caused us to fail in what we were sent to do/to be. Which quite simply was to share the abundant life with one another. We are not talking about abundance in years, or in wealth, or status, or accomplishments.

It is life that is abundant in the love of god made known to us in and by Jesus the Christ. A love that overflows to others. If we never heard it before. We need to hear it now. Amidst all the other voices, Sadly, many people who pretend to speak for God, People who said Jesus should not heal on the Sabbath, People who say, you should not---- --you fill in the blanks. We need to hear the voice of the good shepherd, a voice of promise, a voice that calls us by name and claims us as god’s own. A voice that says, she loves us. A voice that says through us,

“this is my body, my blood given for you and you and you….” I believe what we want, what we really want, is to know that god knows about us, Cares about us, and actually knows us individually, and personally,

And that above all, she knows our name. And ultimately carries us safely across the shadow of death in her arms. In the end, it is that simple, but it is never easy. Shepherd me, o god, Beyond my wants, beyond my fears, From death into life. AMEN.


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