Sermons & Notes

Fr. Dean Mercer, St. Paul's L'Amoreaux Anglican Church, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - www.stpl.ca.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Sermon: Prayer and the Persistent Widow - Mr. David Puttock, Layreader, St. Paul's L'Amoreaux

October 21, 2007, Pentecost 21 (Year C), Luke 18:1-8

I am a little puzzled that I should be invited to preach on Seniors Recognition Sunday.

Is it a hint that I am getting older? Is this just a coincidence? What is a senior anyway? What are the qualifications?

Last year, to my surprise, I discovered that - in one place at least – I am already a senior. I went to the AMC cinema at Kennedy Commons. At the ticket office I was asked if I was a senior! Was this an insult - or a joke? Well, I took it in good humour. I asked – what is the age for a senior ? 55 and over was the reply. What a surprise !! So young!! Yet I qualified!! And I thought wistfully of the years of seniors discounts that I had missed!! So I immediately claimed the discount and have shamelessly done so ever since. By the way I tried it at Cineplex Odeon at STC. It didn’t work. The policy there is 65 and over. I still have a few years to go before that!

Anyway you know the old saying – and it’s true – you are only as old as you feel!!

When I read today’s Gospel I fell into a trap. Aha, I thought, how fitting for Seniors Recognition Sunday. It’s a story about old people. There’s this widow. She must be old. And the judge – well, judges are generally old too. In fact one of the commentaries I read refers to him as a “crusty old judge”. But – who says the judge is old? Who says the widow is a senior? Nowhere in the gospel does it say that he or she was old. They could have been comparatively young. The widow certainly has the energy of a young person in pursuing her case with the unjust judge.

The story is quite straightforward . . .

The woman in the parable is a widow. Whatever her age, whatever her status, she is a symbol for – and this is typical in Luke’s Gospel – the poor, defenceless, the marginalized in society.

The other character is the judge. He is corrupt and unjust. Jesus points out that this judge neither fears God nor has any respect for people. Not even a deserving widow is going to get a fair hearing from him.

But, this is no ordinary widow. This woman is bold and confrontational and persistent. Even though her chances of success are next to none, she keeps demanding justice for her case saying, "Grant me justice against my opponent."

For a while, the judge refuses. But, finally, he relents, saying, "I have no fear of God. I have no respect for anyone. But I'm going to do what this woman asks, because she keeps bothering me, and I don't want her to wear me out by continually coming" to me and pestering me.

Note that the Greek word translated here as "wear me out" literally means to "strike under the eye" or to "give a black eye." This phrase presents an intriguing picture of a raging granny letting fly at the judge with her purse or shopping bag.

And so the judge gives in – not out of a sense of justice but in order to avoid the black eye. The black eye may not be realistic but it is quite likely that he gives in to avoid the embarrassment of a very public and possibly humiliating scene with the widow. Something that would rob him of his self-importance and make him look rather foolish in the eyes of the public. He may not care for God or man but he certainly cares about his self-image.

And so through her persistence the widow achieves her goal.

The widow is an example of persistence and faithfulness.

The judge is her unlikely saviour.

We can probably see ourselves as the widow with our prayers and petitions to GOD. But don’t imagine that the crooked judge can be compared with GOD ! No, the judge is to be contrasted with GOD – not compared with Him.

And the lesson is this -- if the crooked judge can be persuaded by the lowly widow and show mercy, then how much more will a just GOD, a loving Father, give to his children out of the goodness of his heart?

So is that the message then? Persistence in prayer pays off?

Well not exactly. True, Jesus tells his disciples clearly up front that this parable is about the need to pray always. But he also tells them – and us - not to lose heart.

Because you don’t always get what you want. You don’t always get what you pray for.

This is not just a parable on how to pray. It is not just a parable on persistence in prayer. There is something deeper about this passage.

It points to the profound importance of prayer and how prayer shapes the profound nature our relationship with GOD.

It is a parable about trusting in GOD to provide for the needs of His people.

In this light, the story of the judge and the widow and how she hounds him into cowering submission seems almost like a light-hearted prelude.

The profound importance of prayer

The wonderful unique thing about prayer is this: it is the medium through which we communicate with GOD. It is a miracle in itself that we can talk directly with GOD and not through some designated intermediary. And in this we take our lead from Jesus Christ who encourages us to talk with GOD and call him Our Father.

And recall the words of St Paul who wrote to the (1st) Thessalonians: “Pray continually !”. Prayer is the medium through which we communicate with God in all times and in all circumstances, through all the seasons of our life, especially the ones that are parched and dry.

Because prayer is not always easy.

Prayer can be hard work, because our prayers for the things we feel we most deeply need are often met with long periods of silence from God. The American theologian and author, Dr Fred Craddock, writes that “prayer is hard work because the human experience is often an experience of waiting in the face of delay”.

Prayer is not like a divine vending machine. Put in your faith. Be sure to put in enough. Pull the lever. Get what you want or what you think you need. No, prayer is more like wrestling, like Jacob, who wrestled and struggled with God, through the long night until the break of day.

I feel we can draw inspiration - not so much from those who boast of a triumphant and successful prayer life and claim to have all the answers but from people who have practised hopeful and confident and persistent prayer in the face of great suffering and God's apparent silence. These are the ones who can really inspire us and be our models.

Prayer is the medium through which GOD prepares us for his answer to prayer, for an answer that may not be easy for us to accept. It may not be our will.

We pray. We get an answer to our prayer. Sometimes the answer is “No” or “Not now”. Through prayer, God’s will is revealed to us. And it may be something other than what we asked or imagined.

And as we pray, God also prepares us for the reality that an answer may not come in our life and time here on earth.

“The time we spend in hopeful and confident prayer, in the face of promises delayed, in the face of long seasons of silence, is the time that transforms us into the vessels that will be able to hold the answer when it finally comes.” (Fred Craddock again).

The profound nature of our relationship with God.

Prayer shapes us and moulds our character. And prayer strengthens our relationship with GOD. Through prayer our relationship with GOD is transformed and enriched so that we are being made ready ultimately to abide in GOD’s presence.

And as we deepen our relationship with GOD, maybe - to pick up the phrase from the parable - maybe we can dare to say that prayer is the medium through which we wear GOD out with our persistence and, if need be, give him a black eye. Through prayer we may boldly remind GOD of His promises to us until the answer comes.

Prayer is the courageous determination to let God be God.

Finally, it may take a long time for prayer to be answered – so don’t give up. There is concern expressed in the final verse that people will lose heart, abandon their persistent supplication and give up their faith. Hence the question at the end of the passage: “And yet when the Son of Man comes – will he find faith on earth ?” The message here is - trust in GOD for He is trustworthy. Trust in the eventual triumph of GOD and his people.

So, will the Son of Man find faith on earth when he comes again? If we continue to pray faithfully – yes he will!!! Emphatically, he will!!

This may be the logical point to end - but I cannot resist sharing with you a modern day equivalent of today’s Gospel story.

Edward Bennett Williams was a high-profile and powerful Washington lawyer, sometime owner of the Washington Redskins and the Baltimore Orioles, advisor to celebrities and politicians alike. One day Mother Teresa had made an appointment with him because she was raising money for an AIDS hospice and Williams was in charge of a charitable foundation that she hoped would help. Before the appointment, Williams said to his partner, Paul Dietrich, “You know, Paul, AIDS is not my favourite disease. I don't really want to make a contribution but I've got this Catholic saint coming to see me and I don't know what to do.” Well, they talked about it and agreed that they would be polite, hear her out, but then say no. So, Mother Teresa arrived. She sat like a little sparrow perched on the other side of the lawyer’s immense mahogany desk. She made her appeal for the hospice and Williams said, “We're touched by your appeal, but no.” Mother Teresa said simply, “Let us pray.” Williams exchanged glances with his partner and they bowed their heads. After the prayer, Mother Teresa made the same pitch, word for word, for the hospice. Again Williams politely said no. Mother Teresa said, “Let us pray.” Williams, exasperated, looked up at the ceiling as if to heaven and finally exclaimed, “All right, all right”, and turning to his partner said, “Paul, get me my cheque book !”

Yes, indeed, another example of the power of persistent prayer!!

As Jesus taught us - we must keep praying. And, in full expectation of his coming again, we must not – we shall not - lose heart. Amen.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Sermon: The List - 2 September 2007

Luke 14:1,7-14
St. Paul's L'Amoreaux, September 2, 2007

In our lesson from Luke 14, Jesus is giving lessons about life in the kingdom of God. In the first lesson, he is giving instructions on how to be a good guest. On the surface, what he said isn't much different from common Jewish table manners. And yet it says that Jesus was telling a parable. Parables, as you know, were used by Jesus to teach about life in the Kingdom of God. And against those who are always trying to calculate some little advantage for themselves and trying to climb to some better position, Jesus says simply, "Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."

And in the second saying in which Jesus is addressing the host of a banquet, you could say, on the one hand, it's a lesson in delayed gratification. Advantages missed now by inviting the poor, lame, and blind will be multiplied later at the resurrection. And if that were the only appeal, then it's actually a stronger appeal to the same basic motive for gain and advantage of those who are calculating in their choice of dinner guests.

But there is a reason to believe that something else far greater is intended. In the lesson Jesus says that if you give a banquet and host these kinds of needy people, you will be blessed. The word "blessed" is important because it is a word ordinarily reserved for the joy of living in the Kingdom of God. It is the word used in the beatitudes - blessed are you poor, hungry, mournful and persecuted (Lk. 6:20-23).

Furthermore, the two lists of those to invite and not to invite are also important.

The first list of those not to invite provides a warning that the people we ordinarily aspire to be like and aspire to be with may not be as reliable as we might first think. Our first impression may be that here's another example of us being asked to give up for the sake of others and to think of others first. In fact, what we may have here is a warning. These people may not be as good to you or for you as you think they might be. If you are pinning your hopes on the shoulders of family, friends, and those of wealth and influence, you may end up disappointed. Jesus issued the warning of which he himself would feel the effects. In chapter 21, verse 16, he says: "You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death."

And the reason for this may not be anything particularly dark or conspiratorial. It may be as simple as the fact that if entering the Kingdom of is your goal, you may not have much in common with those whose goal it is not, sometimes including those to whom you are close.

But the second list, those who are poor, crippled, lame, and blind, is similar to the list of people who, long long ago, the prophet Isaiah promised would be delivered by the coming messiah. They are the people Jesus mentioned that day when he announced his messiahship in the temple. They are the people Jesus mentioned when he sent a message to John the Baptist to confirm that he was the Saviour. "Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard", Jesus said. "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor" (Lk. 7:22).

This isn't a lesson about table manners. It is a lesson about the fulfilment of prophecy, about the hope of all ages coming to pass. About the prophet Isaiah's vision of paradise: ". . . with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them." (Is. 11:1-9.)

Those of you who read the little travel diary I kept about our trip to Kenya will have read this story already. But during our time in Kenya, I was advised to look out for a short, quiet and unassuming priest by the name of John Njuguna. He won't draw much attention to himself, I was told, but over the course of his ministry he has been a tremendous pastor and has planted nearly 25 churches. Fortunately, he was one of the first people I met when we arrived in Bungoma, and we visited every time we were together.

Our first Sunday there, we were gathered on the grounds of the Wycliffe Centre, and Fr. John was very happy. "What a great day this is," he told me. "Seven years ago," he said while pointing across the field to the northern corner of the property, "I started this church. It was a very bad area, run by thieves. People who came into it, herding cattle, or carrying chickens, or riding on bikes, might enter with something, but left with nothing."

I asked him what he did.

"Well," he said, "the first thing I did was go into their homes. I told them that God loved them. I told them that I was their friend, and now, they were my friends. And I told them that they were welcome to come to my church." And then, very deliberately he said, with a wave of his hand back and forth ‑ "I didn't talk about any bad things" ‑ meaning, he didn't raise the subject of their thievery.

"I kept visiting," he said, "and gradually they started coming to the church. After a while, they began to step forward in order to be baptized. I welcomed them, but I told them, `God loves you, but God needs you to serve him. Therefore, when I baptize you, there are some things you can no longer do.'" "This region has been transformed," he told me with a smile, pointing out in the crowd at least three of the former thieves, one of whom has become a local evangelist.

I don't know how you hear all this, but the tipped-over world that Jesus describes presents a great challenge. It challenges our loyalties. It challenges us with demanding ministry to people in need. But the challenge of this kind of ministry and this kind of living is rewarded many times over with the rich fellowship of humble people and the first taste of the paradise to come - when the miseries, hatreds, jealousies and cruelties of this world will have a place no more. And it is a kind of living rewarded with the joy of sharing in Jesus' redemption of the world.

Our Lord has invited us to his table. And as our gospel lesson teaches, we are all invited, no matter what our circumstance. Whether we be rich or poor, strong or weak, Jew or Gentile. But the invitation is also given with great urgency. A feast is being held, and the host will not tolerate excuses. In fact, he is sending out his servants to invite anyone who will come until every seat at the table is full. But it is the banquet in the upper room that consoles us with the assurance of our Lord that He invites us to His table where we will find His mercy to heal our wounds and grace to face the future. And the invitation he has given to each of us He asks us to share with others.

"But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Sermon: Isaiah and the Vineyard - 19 August 07

Sermon: The Vineyard

Text: Isaiah 5.1-7

St. Paul’s L’Amoreaux, Pentecost 12 (Proper 20), August 19, 2007

There are three things I’d like us to notice in our lesson from Isaiah. And the first may be obvious to you, but did you notice that the speaker changes?

The lesson begins with Isaiah speaking on behalf of the Lord, like a friend paying tribute to another friend who goes unappreciated for the beautiful vineyard he has built.

But then, at the third verse, in this relatively short passage, the speaker changes - from the friend to the master, from Isaiah to the Lord.

“And now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah,” says the Lord, “judge between me and my vineyard. What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done?” (Is 5:3-4)

I don’t know how many of you read, then saw the movie of J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. About a year after the first movie, I received a DVD of it as a gift and eagerly watched it again at home. There was one scene, though, where watching at home was nothing like being in the theatre.

A little hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, has been custodian for a terrible ring. Because of its terrific power, it corrupts everyone who holds it and must be taken to the Mount of Doom and destroyed. A great wizard named Gandalf knows all this and is trying to transfer the ring from the hobbit Bilbo to his young nephew Frodo who will begin carrying it to its place of destruction. The wizard is very powerful, but kind and gentle among the hobbits. So kind, that they often forget his great power. And so on the fateful day when Gandalf the wizard requests that Bilbo the Hobbit hand over the ring, Bilbo, already a little corrupted by the ring, rudely refuses and accuses Gandalf of wanting it for himself.

At the accusation - and an effect that is terrifying in the theatre (and a bit lame on a small TV at home) - Gandalf the wizard grows to the size of a giant, fire and smoke surround him, and a great, deep voice comes from within him, ordering Bilbo to stop playing games about this dangerous ring, and stop treating him like a greedy con artist.

Little Bilbo hands over the ring.

That came to mind here. It is as if the Lord interrupts Isaiah in order to challenge the people directly: ‘Who do you think you’re dealing with?’

And then the Lord says, “I have delivered you into a land of plenty, and like the master of a vineyard, I have tilled the soil, cleared the rocks and built a watchtower within it for your safety and protection.

“But you have not trusted my oversight, you have spoiled the vineyard, and you have made the whole thing stink with your sinfulness and quarreling.”

Which is the second thing I’d have you notice.

On the one hand, it is a small thing, a word, but repeated twice in this passage. In the accusation that the Lord make against Israel, the Lord says, “I expected [the vineyard] to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes,” literally, ‘grapes that stink’, ‘grapes with a stench’.

Again, a small thing, but a sharp contrast between what the vineyard was intended for and what it has become: ‘a yard full of grapes that stink’.

On an afternoon before Halloween a few years ago, John Oakley, who was then with CFRB radio. thought it would be fun to get people to call in and tell about their experiences getting rid of the ‘smell of death’. What he was thinking of are those times when a little mouse dies behind a cupboard, or a bird in the rafter of a garage. I’m not sure he was expecting what he got.

Because right away an autobody mechanic phoned in. “From time to time,” he said, “it happens to us. We get cars that have been involved in fatal accidents. There is a terrible stench that’s left behind.”

“Here’s how we get rid of it. We remove the seats, the dashboard, and every piece of plastic, rubber, leather, fabric or wood that we can find. We then take a sandblaster and destroy every sliver of paint - the smell will seep into the paint. And we sell the little that’s left for parts.

“That’s how we get rid of the smell.”

Here in Isaiah this is a powerful accusation, because of how great the contrast is between something that’s sweet and something that’s become rotten. This vineyard has become the complete opposite of what was intended.

It is intended to be a place of justice.

It is intended to be a place of fairness, generosity and mercy.

It is intended to be a place of harmony.

It is intended to be a place set aside for glory and praise of God.

And it is intended that the influence of this place should spread. It is intended that this nation should be a light to all nations. It is intended that around this holy hill, all nations should gather.

But instead of justice, there is injustice.

Instead of fairness, cheating.

Instead of harmony, quarrelling and division.

Instead of the praise, the mistrust and defiance of God.

Instead of a vineyard, it’s a yard full of grapes that stink.

Now here’s the third thing, and again, by this point, you’ve probably noticed it, too. The comparison between the people and a vineyard made here in Isaiah is a comparison Jesus makes many times. But what we sometimes miss is that the comparison is made for the same reason.

In other words, what God was doing and building in Israel, God continues to pursue in Israel and now in the church, the new Israel of those who’ve been ‘grafted in’ through faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus deliberately used the same comparison that the prophets before him used. And the warning, the judgement - and the hope - that the prophet issues to Israel then is the warning, judgement, and hope that the prophet issues to the church today.

In some ways, I think it’s obvious.

We are to be righteous people.

We are to be just people.

We are to live in harmony, and to work hard when conflict arises.

We are always to remember the widow, the poor and the foreigner among us.

And the influence of being and becoming that kind of people is intended for the sake of the world.

Whenever we act unrighteously, unjustly, selfishly and in a pinched and provincial fashion, we become like grapes that stink.

But there’s another point that requires a bird’s eye view of Isaiah in order to see. One of the fascinating aspects of this prophet is the way in which he understands the nations. On the one hand, Isaiah describes the nation of Israel divided and fighting among itself. He also describes the neighbouring nations as instruments of God’s judgement who he will use to punish Israel. But against our tendency to cut and run whenever we see troubles, even though they see what’s coming, the prophets of Israel stay among the people in their time of punishment, knowing that the discipline of the Lord is the first step toward redemption.

The final destiny of God’s people is not injustice and dissension. The final destiny of the nations is not as a blunt instrument of judgement.

The final destiny of Israel is its redemption.

The final destiny for the nations is their redemption.

In similar fashion, Jesus warned the people of his day. And He too stayed among them, bearing on his shoulders the weight of this great clash between what God’s people are intended to become and what they have degenerated into. Jesus stayed among them even though it meant the road to Golgotha where he would be tried falsely and crucified unjustly.

But the final destiny for Israel is its redemption.

The final destiny for the world is its salvation.

This is a solemn lesson. We probably know too well all the different ways when we’ve looked for a vineyard and discovered grapes that stink. But are we prepared to receive the Lord’s correction? Have we the faith to lift our heads and contemplate that which God intends us to become? In this generation of dissension, quarreling and division, and hard as it is to accept, we also betray those plans not only when we contradict the way that God has commanded us to live, but whenever we flee the conflicts created when the old and the new life clash - conflicts in our homes, among our family and friends, in our parishes, in our world.

One old Bible commentator says (K. F. Keil):

[The book of Isaiah is about] a test sent from God for Judah and the house of David, in which it was their duty to decide in favour of faith and confidence simply in the omnipotence and the grace of the Lord; instead of which, they placed their confidence in the earthly worldly power of Assyria, and, as a punishment, were given over to . . . heathen nations, in order that, being purified by severe judgments, they might be led through deep sufferings to the glory of their divine calling.” (Quoted, Seitz, p. 7)

God’s plans are not for us as mere individuals. God’s plans are for a holy people, a nation of priests, raised up for the sake of the world. And this is the shining hope on the other side of the prophet’s message of judgement.

I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind . . . I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight . . . no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress . . . they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit . . . The wolf and the lamb shall feed together . . . They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord. (Is 65:17-25).

Sermon: The Call of Jeremiah, 26 August 07

Sermon: The Call of Jeremiah

Text: Jeremiah 1.4-10

St. Paul’s L’Amoreaux, Pentecost 13 (Proper 21), August 26, 2007

Our Old Testament lesson this morning is the gripping account of the Lord’s call of Jeremiah the prophet. And a couple of introductory words.

First, it is a mark of the way we do things in the Anglican Church that we read lessons like this in the first place. Because the schedule of readings we follow, called a lectionary, requires us to read not just our favourite lessons, but the hard ones, too.

I had a funny experience while teaching about the liturgy in Kenya and teaching about the difference between those things that are of primary and secondary importance. Those who plan the liturgy need to keep this in mind. They don’t want the service to go on and on. Neither do they want the essentials to be overlooked.

While teaching, one of the young clergy put up his hand and said, “We have that problem in our church. The services go on too long. Lots of singing, long testimonies and announcements. So we solved it. We don’t read the Bible anymore.”

He was reminded by me that the lessons are considered essential. He was warned by his principal, who was helping to translate, not to let it happen again.

I always like it when guilt and innocence mix. Like the proud young owner of a new porsche who can’t help correcting the traffic cop who stopped him. “No, you’re wrong,” complains the speeder. “I was going at least twice that fast!”

We need the whole counsel of Scripture in order that our lives might be shaped according to God’s purposes and will. But these are tough ones to consider.

Secondly, I want to say again what I said last week about Isaiah. It is easy to forget that the Old Testament record about Israel continues to serve as an example for us as modern Christians. And it serves as a warning when we read about the people descending into division and disloyalty to God. And the point is simple. The same temptations which faced Israel face the church. We must be on guard against destructive conflict and disloyalty to God.

But here’s a point that I’ve only begun to understand in the last few years. Much is made in Isaiah, and also here in Jeremiah, about a remnant from whom God would rebuild his people (Is. 11.1). But do you realize that the prophets never identify who the remnant is? Only God knows. And it is left to the prophets and the people to wait and see how God will raise up those who’ve been faithful. It is left to the people to obey the Lord and remain faithful throughout.

This is the same point made in Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds (Mt. 13.24ff.). It is left to the Lord to sort out the faithful from the unfaithful.

For that reason, a humble priest and his wife like Zechariah and Elizabeth, an unsuspecting but righteous couple like Joseph and Mary, and a tottering and prayerful couple like Simeon and Anna are the perfect examples and the ones to whom the Messiah, Jesus Christ the Lord, would first appear.

To our great harm, Christians have been too eager - far too eager - to declare who is, and who is not faithful, and to take it upon themselves to separate themselves from those thought to be unfaithful.

I mention this second point because I do not want to ignore the elephant pounding around in the room. This is a generation in which the Christian churches in general, and the Anglican Church in particular, are quarrelling and breaking up. This is not just an Anglican problem. At last count, there are 40,000 Christian denominations, and I’m told a new one created once every 2 or 3 days. But it most certainly is an Anglican problem, and we face difficult days ahead.

Conflict is unavoidable and we discover God and God’s purposes through a great struggle in a dangerous world. But the large difference I see, when comparing Israel to the church, is that Israel and its prophets knew that God’s intention was for them as a people, and they came to realize that there are times when they all must bear the confusion and disarray brought upon them by unfaithfulness and the tumult of the times.

That is the example of Jeremiah. One of his most famous speeches was just as the Babylonians were about to attack. All around him, his own people believed there was nothing to worry about. All around him, hundreds of prophets who also claimed the inspired word of the Lord, declared that all was well. Life could go on as it was.

But Jeremiah thundered in reply: “Peace, peace, where there is no peace.”

Did they thank him for his insight? They threw him into a well.

Did they praise him for his courage and independence? They wanted to kill him.

Did it draw him closer to the Lord? He accused the Lord of violating him.

But did Jeremiah give up, lose faith, or abandon his people?

No! And the most eloquent tribute to this great prophet is the fact that immediately after his most violent complaints about the people and toward God, the next day we see him back at it, warning the people, guiding the people, pointing the people back to the life for which they were intended, holding out hope to the people that God does not forget his promises. God will rebuild.

Generations later, it became clear that Jeremiah had spoken for the Lord, and he was the one around whose counsel the people could rebuild.

Christians, on the other hand, and modern Christians in particular, have been notoriously guilty of concluding that God’s purposes is for them, individually, and notoriously unconcerned when the conflict leads to division, and further division - and further division - to the tune of another new denomination every 2 or 3 days.

How does this rise from our lesson in Jeremiah?

Briefly, two things from verse five.

First, in a backhanded fashion we are warned of the cost. The lesson begins with the haunting description of the prophet’s call and of the Lord’s choice of him from even before the time of his birth.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.” (Je 1:5) It is a beautiful description, of God’s knowledge and commissioning of Jeremiah, but it carried with it a tremendous cost, as the call of God always does.

We can be quite sentimental about the call of the Lord. But if the Lord calls, hang on to your hat.

It is similar to the description that the psalmist uses of himself in Psalm 71, and the psalmist finds himself surrounded by enemies ready to pounce.

And yet, his conclusion is not one of despair, but of dependence upon God and hope in the faithfulness of God.

O my God, make haste to help me! . . . But I will hope continually, and will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all day long (Ps 71:11-15).

And as one commentator puts it, instinctively the psalmist realizes that suffering is not wasted if that agony is part of God’s redemptive work in the world.

Why is the call of the Lord so costly? Because the saving plans of the Lord are so great!

The second thing, also from verse 5, is the purpose for which Jeremiah is being raised up:

“I appointed you a prophet to the nations . . . to break down, and to build up.” (Je 1:5)

As mentioned last week, one of the fascinating aspects of the prophets is the way in which they understand the nations. Both Jeremiah and Isaiah describe the nation of Israel as divided and fighting among itself. And they describe the neighbouring nations as instruments of God’s judgement who God will use to punish Israel. But this is not the ultimate purpose - for Israel or the nations. Israel is not abandoned to division and ruin. The nations are not meant to be only cudgels of punishment.

The final destiny of God’s chosen is to be a holy people, a nation of priests, a light to the nations. The final destiny for the nations is their redemption and salvation. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son . . .”

Which is why the calling of Jeremiah, and our calling as God’s ambassadors in the world, is never easy. We are being drawn into God’s redemptive purposes for the world. Purposes which we only understand in part. Purposes which involve a great struggle, like labour pains, St. Paul says. Purposes that extend beyond our sight-lines and into the generations that will follow us.

I’ve mentioned before the process going on right now for the beautification of Mother Theresa, and that, to the surprise of many, the investigation has revealed that for most of Mother Teresa’s active ministry in the streets of Calcutta and among the world’s poorest of poor, she herself was experiencing profound spiritual darkness. Incidentally, this was splashed on the front page of the National Post (August 25, 2007) just yesterday.

But rather than despair, she turned her own feelings of abandonment into even greater dependence on God and her feelings of purposelessness into sharply focussed acts of service among the poorest of the poor.

There was no outward sign of it. Mother Theresa radiated joy and love. And few can imagine her doing what she did with that kind of inner struggle occurring. Where did she find the strength and inspiration to carry on?

But I was interested in what the reporter noticed.

This discovery came as no surprise to the investigators because it is a common characteristic of saintly people. And yet, fittingly, Mother Theresa’s struggles are the sources of deepest suffering in our time - meaninglessness and abandonment!

But rather than give in to her feelings of meaninglessness and abandonment, she became even more focussed in service and abandoned herself more fully to God.

In fact, as the darkness deepened within her, light seem to radiate from her even more brightly among those she lived and served. People who met her were always struck by her smile and a palpable feeling of love and radiance. Little did they know that her smile was an act of the will which she offered as a simple expression of her faith in Jesus Christ.

How does a person come to give their life for the poorest of the poor?

How does a person carry on in the dark night of the soul?

Jeremiah offers us a clue.

They do so under the conviction that God is faithful, and the suffering which comes to God’s people is meaningful as it is part of God’s plan of salvation.

They do so under the conviction that God’s purposes are for the world. We are called for that purpose. We are privileged to join in service.

But I will hope continually, and will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all day long (Ps 71:11-15).

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Mission to Kenya - Saturday, July 28 - Conclusion

On July 18, around 80 traveled to Cairo for the side-tour portion of the trip. It included some of the great sites in Cairo, Alexandria, and a boat cruise on the Nile. With gratefulness to God for safe travel, late on Saturday, July 28, the 10 participants from St. Paul's L'Amoreaux all arrived home in Toronto.


At some point, I hope to provide an overall summary of the mission and possibly a list of the places and sites that were visited in Egypt, but otherwise this travel-log comes to an end. The travel-log will be kept in circulation until the end of September.

Credit for the pictures you see goes to a number of the team members. A photo library of the mission is available here: http://www.kenya2007.com/Projects.htm.

An even fuller photo journal by Dr. David Hillock can be found here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dhkenya2007

A very fine log of the mission has been kept by Henrieta Paukov of the Toronto Anglican newspaper, and can be found here: http://kenyamission.blogspot.com/

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Mission to Kenya: Tuesday, July 17

We are in Nairobi for the day and after a group photo this morning, members were off to visit a nearby orphaned giraffe centre, a jewelry shop supported by a single women’s association, lunch at the renowned Carnivore Restaurant - famous for its ‘all you can eat’ meat feature - and then to one of the famed and crowded Nairobi open markets.



After an early supper, we’ll try for a few hours sleep before a 12.15 am wakeup call in order to get to the airport for our trip to Cairo. We arrive around 10 am on Wednesday.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Mission to Kenya: Monday, July 16

*This morning, people are inquiring of each other, ‘Who felt the earthquake?’ Apparently, a little before midnight, a fairly substantial quake rocked the continent, with its epicenter south of us in Tanzania. It was accompanied by several aftershocks, and it was significant enough to have had the attention of the local staff.

*Today’s safari has been a great success. The ‘king’ was finally spotted, with his pride enjoying last night’s kill of a ‘wildabeast’.

Michael Legg provided a brief overview of the patterns of a male lion’s ‘pride’ (the word for a male and his group of female lions and cubs). Most never become very large because there is only ever one male who is constantly fighting off competition. If the competitor wins, the losing male walks away alone, a very sad and pathetic sight, I’m told. The new head of the pride will then kill his predecessors cubs and begin again.

The lion is also, we’re told, a particularly lazy animal, lounging under the bushes and trees only until it is necessary to come out and hunt. They hunt in packs and often very strategically. One lioness will go upwind, sending the prey downwind into an ambush by the rest of the pride.

We asked our driver who the Masai fear, who we regularly see walking across the park. ‘They fear the elephants and the buffalo, but the cats they fend off with their own special repellent recipe of cow dung and other secret ingredients.

*The rest of the day has been spent on the road from the lodge to the Methodist Guest House in Nairobi. Accommodations here are lovely, but the roads have been brutal. Another long day on them, and we’re all glad to be off – now, I believe, for the last time.

All the St. Paul’s L’Amoreaux folk are in one piece, reunited and in good spirits.