Scripture Reading: Ezekiel 37:1–14 | Psalm 130 | Romans 8:6–11 | ​John 11:1–45

“Jesus told them plainly, ‘Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.’” (John 11:14-15)
 
Where is God to be found when our world has fallen apart?
 
When we come face to face with tragedy… with bitter and unanswerable questions… when our prayers ascend, not with praise, but with accusations… and even anger?
 
Have you ever been angry with God?
Are you angry with Him right now?
 
I remember one evening, while I was in seminary, riding the subway home in Toronto. That night, I was very angry with God. Not because of something that had happened to me… but to things that had just happened to some fellow Christians I knew… good, honest, God-loving families, who were suddenly going through heartbreaking tragedies.
 
One family, after years of longing for a child, had gone through the long and arduous process of adoption. After much prayer, and hope, and joy, they had finally been able to bring a new baby home… but then the birth-mother suddenly changed her mind, and they had to give the beloved child back. All of the hopes and joys of this wonderful couple fell crashing to the floor. From where I stood, it seemed so wrong… so cruel a twist of circumstances for those who had longed only to share love. It just seemed so unfair.
 
The second family faced an even more devastating tragedy. A classmate of mine was driving on a trip with his wife and new baby, but their car ended up in a fatal crash. Thankfully the mother and child survived, but the father was killed on the scene. So suddenly, one life was taken, and two others would never be the same. Again, it all seemed so unfair. Why would God allow this kind of thing to happen to people who truly loved Him, and longed to help others share in His love? It made no sense!
 
On that subway ride home, I felt quite overwhelmed by what seemed like the unfairness… maybe even the uncaringness of God, and all the theology… all the answers I thought I knew just seemed to fall flat, offering no comfort at all.

I was angry. Angry with God. Angry that God had not done something to protect these people who loved Him from having their worlds fall apart.
 
Where was God? And why didn’t He do something?
 
We know, of course, there are lots of stories like this… where people have come face to face with sudden tragedy, and outright evil, and where we can do little but raise our cries of anguish to God.
 
But thankfully, the Living God can handle our honest, angry prayers.
 
We know this because the Bible does not shy away from these kinds of stories. Quite the opposite! The Holy Scriptures invite us, again and again, into truly heartbreaking narratives… not to crush our spirits, but to help us trust God in the midst of tragedy. To believe, not that everything will work out in ways that seem fair to us… but to believe that He is the one who brings true life, even out of the darkness of death.
 
Our reading today from John’s Gospel dives straight into this mess… inviting us to see both where God is amid the deeply personal suffering of our world, and what He is doing about it... pointing us directly to the face of Jesus.
 
This story is one of the most well known miracles of Jesus: raising his friend Lazarus from the grave, after being dead for four days. It is an amazing display of Jesus’ life-giving power… revealing His unique connection to God the Father, the Source of all life.
 
But as John takes pains to point out, Jesus is absent at the time of Lazarus’ death. In fact, instead of rushing to the village of Bethany to prevent His friend from dying, Jesus delays coming… He chooses to be absent. To not stop the tragedy ahead of time… but to face it head-on.
 
This is the big question the story raises for us… the tension that makes it all so poignant: Jesus invites us all to ask Him ‘where were You? Why did You let all this happen?’ Not only in this story, but in all our tragedies, and times of darkness as well.
 
And the answer He gives us is not a rational argument… or a theological treatise… His answer is His action. What He does in this story is His response.
 
So, what does Jesus do?
 
First of all, Jesus shows us He knows. He is not oblivious to what is happening, or too the greater tragedy ahead. When word reaches Him that Lazarus His friend is sick, He knows how the whole story will play out.  
 
Likewise, Jesus knows all about our tragedies too. He sees our struggles, and understands all that we have had to face. There’s some comfort to be found in the fact that our Lord takes notice of us. But that is not all that He does.
 
This story shows us that Jesus knows… and that He cares.

That He cares enough to meet us right there in our pain, and confusion, and anger… to let us be real with Him, which is essential if we’re ever going to believe in Him.
 
John 11:20-22, “When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.’”
 
Martha brings her pain and frustration to Jesus, and though she doesn’t yet understand, she still clings to her faith in Him… and Jesus responds to her faith by offering hope:
 
John 11:23-27, “Jesus said to her, ‘Your brother will rise again.’ Martha said to him, ‘I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.’ Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’ She said to him, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’”
 
Jesus doesn’t just leave Martha in the dark. He knows all about her grief. He cares for her, and offers her hope through faith in Him, even if she doesn’t really understand. And likewise, Jesus invites us all to come to Him and cling to Him in faith, even when we don’t understand.  

​But that’s not the only way we know He cares.
 
John 11:32-37, “When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’”
 
Disturbed. Deeply moved. Weeping. This is how John describes the Son of God. Not stoically standing by, unaffected by the grief that surrounded Him, but sharing in it. Taking it to heart. Taking it up into His own life.
 
Jesus weeps with Mary. And He weeps with us. God weeps with us! He knows, He cares… and He shares in all our human suffering.
 
The Church Father, Cyril of Alexandria, says this about the tears that Christ shed that day: “The Jews thought that Jesus wept on account of the death of Lazarus, but in fact he wept out of compassion for all humanity, not mourning Lazarus alone, but all of humanity which is subject to death, having justly fallen under so great a penalty.”[1]
 
It's not as though Jesus was only moved to tears by the death of a close friend… or the grief of those close to Him. His compassion encompasses us all. Jesus weeps with us too.
 
But we know He does more than share in our suffering. Jesus has come to save. To offer us life… usually in ways that go far beyond our expectations… bringing life even out of death, and hope where there had been no hope at all.
 
John 11:38-45, “Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, ‘Take away the stone.’ Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, ‘Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?’ So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, ‘Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.’ When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’ Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.”
 
Far beyond what anyone else expected that day, Jesus brought Lazarus back to life. A sign of His life-giving power, at work even today in surprising ways. Reminding us that nothing is impossible for our Saviour.
 
But as reassuring as this miracle itself can be for us, John didn’t include this story only to offer us comfort in the midst of our pain and tragedy… but to show us the depths of the Good News of God’s saving love… and just how far Jesus goes to come to our rescue… to put His whole beloved world back together again.
 
The story keeps going beyond our reading today, to reveal that though many believed in Him because of this miracle, the road ahead for Jesus was to be one of fierce resistance.
 
John 11:45-48, “Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, “What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.”
 
To be fair, they had good reason to be afraid. This was a very real threat! The Romans did not put up with disturbances of the peace, and were prone to put down perceived threats to their power viciously. The chief priests and Pharisees were legitimately afraid that they would lose everything… that if Jesus kept on doing all these miracles, Rome would destroy their whole world. Who cares if one man was raised from the dead, if the whole nation will soon be wiped out!

Their solution? John 11:49-53, “But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, ‘You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.’  He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to put him to death.”
 
With their minds blinded by fear, they saw the only way forward for their people would be to kill Jesus. But in the depths of love that none of us can really wrap our heads around, the Living God had known all along that the only way forward for His whole world would be to face death for us Himself. To take on our fragile human life… to face our rejection… and betrayal. To experience injustice… agony… and humiliation at our hand… to taste death for us. Alongside us. Instead of us at the cross.
 
And this is what God does for us. This is what Jesus’ life was all about: not giving us easy answers, or arguments to make sense of all the evil and suffering in our world, or in our lives… but to take all of it on Himself, and to break it’s power over us, once and for all.
 
This is where we find God in the face of suffering: we find Him in the face of Jesus on the cross.
 
This is where we see that He knows… that He cares… that He refuses to shy away even from the horror of death.
 
And this is where we see Him bring the new life of God to us and our world. In His death, and in His resurrection, as the firstborn from the grave… offering us all a share in His eternal life through His Holy Spirit:
 
As St. Paul says in Romans 8:11, “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.”
 
Lazarus was raised back to his old life for a time, but one day he would have to face death again.
 
But Jesus, the Risen One, has passed through death never to die again. The start of a brand New Creation. A new beginning, one that will never come to an end. Not just for Himself, but for all who place their faith in Him. All who receive His gift of life. For as Jesus was raised by the power of God, we too will be raised by His Spirit alive in us, so that Jesus’ eternal life and victory over death will be ours.
 
N.T. Wight puts it this way: “what God did for Jesus he will do for all creation, liberating it from its present slavery to corruption. Those whose bodies are heading for death, but who are indwelt by God’s Spirit, are assured that what God did for Jesus as an individual he will do for all the Messiah’s people.”[2]
 
We don’t know ahead of time all of the details of what this will look like, for us or for our world, but we do know that as we face evil… and injustice, and suffering… and whatever comes our way… we can look to Jesus and find God’s resurrection life at work. We know that He knows… we know that He cares… and we know that He will lead us into life.

That night in Toronto, riding the subway with all of my questions, frustrations, and anger… I found myself praying: “God, hold onto me. I don’t understand… this is so unfair… I am so angry… but please don’t let me go. Hold onto me.” And He did. That’s what He did for me in that moment: He held me in His arms, as confused, and upset, and angry with Him as I was, He did not let me go. And He has never let me go… despite all the ups and downs I have faced since… despite all my struggles and doubts, He keeps on inviting me, again and again, to trust Him to bring His New Life, even when it seems impossible.
 
In time, that first family was actually able to adopt the same child they had first welcomed into their lives, and have been able to share God’s love with them each day.
 
In time, the young widow and child became part of a new and loving family… not erasing the past, but given a new chance to share in God’s grace, and peace together.
 
We know that no two stories are the same. And I’m not saying that every tragedy will turn to joy in this life. What I am saying, and what the Gospel says to us is that even in the midst of the worst moments imaginable, God is with us and will not let us go. In Jesus, the crucified and risen Lord, we can turn to God and truly trust Him… trust Him with all our anguish… with all our questions… with our anger… and know that He is still with us.
 
To know that He knows… that He cares… that He shares in all of our struggles and sorrows… and that He is not nearly done bringing about God’s new and everlasting life. Amen.


[1] Cyril of Alexandria: Commentary on the Gospel of St. John 7.1. in Thomas C. Oden and Cindy Crosby, eds., Ancient Christian Devotional: A Year of Weekly Readings: Lectionary Cycle A (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books, 2007), 94.

[2] N. T. Wright, Twelve Months of Sundays: Reflections on Bible Readings, Year A (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2001), 48.

​Our service of Morning Prayer, Bulletin, and Sermon this week can be found here:

Scripture Readings: 1 Samuel 16:1–13 | Psalm 23 | Ephesians 5:8–14 | John 9:1–41

“for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7).
 
What a gift it is to see clearly.

I don’t just mean with our eyes… though that’s certainly a gift too easily taken for granted. No, I mean seeing clearly with the heart and mind: perceiving the truth… and not being led astray by deceptions, and lies, and appearances… the ability to live in line with what is real, even if no one else around us sees it the same way.
 
What a gift it is to see clearly. A challenging gift, but a gift nonetheless.
 
In our Scripture readings today we are invited to contemplate what it means to see things God’s way… to have our eyes and hearts and minds opened to the reality He longs to reveal.
 
Our reading today from first Samuel tells the story of David’s anointing: the shepherd boy, completely overlooked by others, but chosen by God to serve Him as King.

This story starts off a bit further back: The twelve tribes of Israel had been in the Promised Land for a while now… having been rescued by the LORD from slavery in Egypt, and set apart as God’s chosen people, to live His way in the world so that everyone could come to know the Living God through their faithful lives.
 
But now Israel wanted to be just like every other nation… and rather than looking to the Living God to guide them and protect them, they wanted to have a king… a human ruler who would take the lead… who they could look up to, and place their confidence in. They saw kingship as just the thing they would need to move forward in an uncertain world.
 
The prophet Samuel warned them, just like Moses had warned them centuries earlier, that the kind of king they were wanting would only end up leading them astray… away from God’s ways, and would oppress rather than protect them, but they refused to listen. They wanted to serve someone they could see with their own eyes, instead of placing their trust in the Living God… the One who had rescued them, and led them, again and again, into life.

Eventually, God tells Samuel to give the people what they wanted, and so he anointed their first king Saul, who seemed perfect for the job. Saul was tall, strong, impressive… but he ended up repeatedly failing to follow God’s instructions… doing what was right in his own eyes, instead of obeying the word of the LORD.
 
And so, in our first reading, we heard how God sent the prophet Samuel to choose another king for God’s people… this time anointing someone completely overlooked, and deemed unsuitable for such an honour: Jesse’s youngest son, David… someone the LORD alone could see would be the one to guide His people… not perfectly, by any means, but as far as human kings go, pretty faithfully… filled with the power of God’s own Spirit to lead His people into life.
 
Now this ancient anointing ceremony may seem a long way from our daily lives here in Gondola Point, but a key phrase from this reading stands out for us all to hear:

“the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature… … for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7). 
 
How often are we too just living by what seems right in our own eyes, instead of looking to God?
 
How are we searching for things that seem impressive, strong, stable… hoping that they will give us some security in our increasingly uncertain world?
 
Or how are we wanting to be just like our neighbours… to set aside God’s ways, so we can be just like them… or at least, so that we aren’t seen as strangers and outsiders… afraid of feeling cut off and alone?
 
Are we seeing clearly today? If not, our Gospel reading, as usual, has Good News for us all.
 
John chapter 9 starts off simply enough with a scene that would not have seemed all that unusual: Jesus and His disciples pass by a beggar who had been blind from birth.

From the start, the disciples saw the man and failed to see beyond their own concerns. Like many in their days, and in our own, they saw someone suffering… blind from birth… and assumed it was somebody’s fault. “Rabbi,” they said, “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2).
 
The assumption behind this question is that suffering of any kind must be a punishment… proof that someone did something to deserve their misery.
 
It can be easy for us to feel responsible or guilty when we or those we love are suffering… when they face challenges and struggles beyond our ability to solve. It can seem right to us to search for an explanation… a cause… for someone to blame… but Jesus rejects this way of seeing suffering, and what He does next aims to open the eyes of His followers, and shine light on the truth.
 
“Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.’ When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam’ (which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see.” (John 9:3-7).
 
Note that Jesus did not say that God caused the man’s blindness, but that his blindness will be the cause of God’s work being revealed in him. This isn’t an explanation for who’s responsible for his suffering. It’s an explanation of who will be responsible for his healing… and salvation.
 
Jesus then spits on the ground, makes mud, wipes it on the man’s eyes, and sends him away to wash. And suddenly, he could see! His eyes were opened for the first time in his life!
 
Imagine how excited he must have been! In an instant, so many possibilities that had been completely closed off, had been freely given to him: The beauty of the world around him. Colours, shapes, things only imagined before, all now clearly able to be perceived.
 
Imagine seeing the faces of his friends and family for the first time!
Imagine looking into the eyes of someone who loves you! What a gift!
 
But even so, it was a challenging gift… and one which would change everything. Freely given, but not without cost, as the Gospel of John goes on to explain.
 
The controversy starts with the man’s neighbours, who were deeply confused when they saw the man who they had only known as a blind beggar, suddenly now able to see. They don’t know what to do with him, or what to believe. So they send him to the experts: the Pharisees, those who, due to their knowledge of the Law, and the traditions of God’s people, were supposed to see these kinds of things clearly.
 
And the first thing that catches their eye is not the miracle, God’s healing hand at work, but the fact that Jesus appears to have broken the Law of God… healing on the Sabbath day of rest, and on top of that, daring to make mud.
 
Back in Exodus, before they had tasted God’s freedom and salvation which the Sabbath Day was intended to be a perpetual reminder of, the Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, and were forced to make bricks out of mud. Now any form of work was deemed to be forbidden on the Sabbath, but to the Pharisees, making mud, which brings to mind those mud bricks of oppression, would be like spitting upon the memory of God’s saving work in their people’s past.
 
In their eyes, if Jesus was so careless with what was so clearly sacred, He could be nothing but a sinner, seeking to lead God’s people astray into unfaithfulness. But even so, they could not deny that something unusual had happened here.
 
John 9:16, “Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not observe the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” And they were divided.”
 
But instead of simply choosing to believe the man’s story, or to look for Jesus Himself to discover the truth, they search for the parents of the man who was blind, expecting to find some deception or misunderstanding at work that will fully explain everything.
 
Then the man’s parents, afraid of the pushback they will receive if they support Jesus publicly, refuse to back up their son. They confirm his identity, but then leave him all alone to face these interrogators by himself.
 
The Pharisees press him even harder: “they said to him, ‘Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.’ He answered, ‘I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.’” (John 9:24-25).
 
All through this story, the Gospel writer is highlighting for us the tension and contrast at work between those who see the truth, and those who do not:
 
The disciples of Jesus look at the appearance of someone’s suffering, and they search for someone to blame, instead of seeing a person in need of their compassion.
 
The neighbours look at the man they knew from before, but can’t see how he could have been changed so much.
The Pharisees look at a miraculous work of God in someone’s life, and only see a threat to all they hold most dear.
 
And here we have someone completely overlooked and unexpected… a man who’s never seen anything before… slowly coming to recognize the truth: that Jesus was even more than a wandering healer, or a prophet… Jesus is the One through whom the Living God is at work doing what no one else can do. 
 
As the Pharisees continue their questioning, he offers this testimony: “The man answered, ‘Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.’” (John 9:30-33).
 
Following his example, this Gospel passage invites you and I to see that Jesus is the One who is the truth… who alone can open our eyes to the true reality of the world… to finally see things clearly so that we can begin to live in line with what is right. To experience the beauty, and abundance, and freedom of life with the Living God, even when we are suffering… misunderstood by our neighbours, abandoned by our families and friends, and treated unjustly by those with power.
 
Jesus has come to open us up to a new kind of life… one not based on our old ways of seeing the world, and our place in it… but one which is open to God’s saving love, which no one else can take away from us. A way of life which is not afraid to speak openly of the hope that has been shared with us. One which is open to being led by God’s Holy Spirit, instead of our own understanding, trusting that Jesus has come to bring us into God’s life and light… which will challenge and can change us all.

The man began that day like any other: blind, and begging for help. Jesus freely gave him sight, but this new life cost him dearly. He was suddenly a complete stranger to his neighbours. His parents refused to stand up for him. He was harassed and excommunicated from both his social and spiritual relationships.

What would we do in his place, I wonder?
His story shows us what we are all called to do:
 
“Jesus heard that they had driven him out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered, “And who is he, sir? Tell me, so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” He said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshiped him.” (John 9:35-39).
 
Believe in Him… believe in the One who from the very beginning saw the man in his blindness, not as others did… as someone less worthy of attention, acceptance, and the fullness of life… but as a beloved child of the Living God in need of compassion, whose story would become a glorious gift to all of us in our times of suffering, isolation, abandonment, and outright rejection… in our seasons of darkness when it seems that no one really sees what we are going through.
 
But Jesus sees us… clearly… completely… and He understands all our troubles. And He looks at us as beloved children of His Heavenly Father with divine eyes full of compassion.
 
And His great love growing inside us can help us to truly see each other as well. To see each other, and all those around us… especially those we so easily overlook, as equally beloved by God, whom Jesus Christ, the King of Kings, came to seek, and save, and set free… by giving up His own life for us all at the cross. And who rose again from the grave to open us up to share God’s eternal life through Him, being filled with His holy Spirit to share this message of hope with everyone.
 
If we can start to see each other, and everyone else in this light… the light of the Good News of Jesus and what He has done for us all… just imagine what God will do through us! Imagine what kinds of good works He can accomplish in our midst. What healing and hope He longs to share.
​
So may we, like the man who received his sight, place our faith in Jesus our Saviour, no matter the cost. And as we do so, may God’s Spirit open our eyes and lead us into His life and light. Amen.

​And our Songs this week can be found here:

Scripture Readings: Exodus 17:1–7 | Psalm 95 | Romans 5:1–11 | John 4:5–42

[Note: Bottled water with John 3:16 verse on it given to each person upon arrival. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.”]

"The woman said to Him, 'Sir, give me this water'" (John 4: 15).

O God, light of the minds that know you, life of the souls that love you, and strength of the hearts
that seek you - bless the words of our lips and the meditations of our hearts. We ask this in Jesus'
name and mercy Amen.

[Water is poured into the font] 

We thank you, Almighty God, for the gift of water. Over water the Holy Spirit moved in the
beginning of creation. Through water you led the children of Israel out of their bondage in
Egypt into the land of promise. In water your Son Jesus received the baptism of John and was anointed by the Holy Spirit as the Messiah, the Christ, to lead us through his death and
resurrection, from the bondage of sin into everlasting life.
We thank you, Father, for the water of baptism. In it we are buried with Christ in his death.
By it we share in his resurrection. Through it we are reborn by the Holy Spirit.[1]

Last week within our Gospel reading we heard about the confused Nicodemus. He puzzled about how one could be born a second time - born of water and the Spirit? As Nicodemus worked out his thoughts out loud, Jesus invited him to accept who God is and shared more about the cost of God making eternal life available to humankind.

As natural birth begins our life on this earth, so spiritual birth brings us into the spiritual life and makes us God’s “born ones.” Rev. Rob put it this way in his sermon last week, “We come to Jesus with all of our questions, and concerns, and hopes, and fears, and find him waiting to give us His life…inviting us to turn to Him and trust Him with everything.…Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen Son of God, alone can save us. Jesus alone can give us God’s new life, now and forever.”

Now we come to today’s long Gospel reading which follows shortly after Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus. As Jesus is traveling through Samaria he engages in conversation with a woman at a well. He speaks with her about the “water” He can provide that will quench her deepest thirst.

And, the woman says to Him, “Sir, give me this water…” (John 4:15a).
Like Nicodemus, the woman thirsts for something more and seeks to be filled by coming to the well day after day. Unlike Nicodemus she does not come to Jesus by night although she might have thought of doing so. Drawing water from the town well in biblical times was an important social event for women. The fact that the Samaritan woman came alone suggests, as did Jesus’ reference to five “husbands,” that she was rejected by the other women.

Notice though that Jesus does not reject her. The woman came to the well seeking water and leaves with something very different, she is different. We are told that she leaves her water jar by the well when she goes back to the city. She came all the way out to the well and leaves empty handed but with her heart full. After experiencing Jesus’s love and acceptance, His holding truth in grace, she leaves full of the living water, the divine mercy, God’s grace. A new life in Christ!

In our thirst in our lives, what do we try to fill our buckets with? Maybe it is material wealth, acceptance, power, disordered relationships, various kinds of pleasures … Jesus says that everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again. I imagine that at certain times in our lives, maybe even right now, we have experienced this kind of thirst.

Our thirst is real, our sin is real, our need for God is real. What is also real is that God is always and already looking for us! God wants to share our life. Nicodemus sought out Jesus and He was there. The woman went to the well and Jesus was there. Be assured that Jesus is already here in our lives as we too seek and say, “give me this water”. This is divine grace.

We can stop filling our buckets with that which leads to pain, rejection, fear, grief, and anguish and rather allow ourselves to be found. God is seeking worshippers, not looking for new ways to judge us.

This season of Lent if a gift of the time to prepare our hearts to receive. A time to put down our buckets, clear the clutter of our hearts and remove whatever obstacles there may be the flow of the living water.

The living water never runs out, the fountain never runs dry, this is the divine life. This is what Jesus offered the women at the well. What he offered Nicodemus. What is offered in baptism.

This is the well we can drink from.

May we then, receiving this living water, leave our buckets and go like the woman to others,
those of our family, friends and neighbours; calling them to see this Jesus, the Messiah and be filled!


[1] BAS, pg. 157-158, Thanksgiving over the Water

Today marks the third Sunday of Lent, a sacred season where Christians prepare in mind, body, and spirit, for Holy Week: the commemoration of the betrayal, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Some of the traditional practices of the season of Lent include fasting, study, reflection, and generous almsgiving. And so for each Sunday of Lent, in addition to our weekly At-Home worship resources, we'll also be sharing a link to an episode from the five-part podcast series by the Bible Project on the topic of Generosity. 

This third episode is called "The Abraham Experiment".

Rev. Rob is away this Sunday, so we are blessed to have the Ven. Cathy Laskey offering a homily and leading our In-Person service at St. Luke's. 

​​​​Our service of Morning Prayer, Bulletin, and Sermon this week can be found here:

Scripture Readings: Genesis 12:1–4a | Psalm 121 | Romans 4:1–5, 13–17 | John 3:1–17

​Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” (John 3:3).
 
If you could have a private, face to face conversation with Jesus alone, what would you talk about? What kinds of questions would you ask? What concerns would you raise? What words of wisdom or hope might you long to hear from Him?
 
In our Gospel reading this morning, we heard the story of one such conversation: a man named Nicodemus, a Pharisee, and religious leader, and teacher of God’s Law, was drawn to Jesus… convinced by the signs and miracles that Jesus had performed, and rightly discerning there was something different, something significant about Him. Nicodemus knew that God’s own power was at work in what Jesus was up to. And so, Nicodemus sets out one night in secret, hesitant to let others know He was visiting Jesus, to have a chance to talk with Him one on one.

But regardless of how Nicodemus may have had intended this conversation to unfold, Jesus had other things in mind to talk about… and instead of simply answering Nicodemus’ questions, Jesus aims to transform the way this teacher of the Law, as well as you and I today, understand what the Living God is up to… and our part in God’s story.

In our first reading today we were reminded of another key character in that story: Abram, who would later on be renamed Abraham, the ancient ancestor of the family of Israel.

Now Abraham’s story wasn’t a straightforward success by any means. Though he’s renowned as a founding father of the faith, Abraham was just as often driven by fear, and ended up making some truly disastrous decisions. And yet, he was still the one through whom the Living God chose to bless the whole world. This would be the special, covenant relationship that would reveal God’s divine life and love to all nations.  
 
Genesis 12:1-4, “Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’”

Note that Abram was not chosen and blessed, because he was particularly gifted, or because God could see some hidden potential in him… actually, it’s quite the opposite!

Abram and his wife Sarai had no children, and had long passed the age when that would be even remotely possible. Yet God tells Abram that He will make a massive family out of this old man… someone without any natural hope of raising up future generations.

In other words, God promised Abram something that only God’s power could accomplish. Abram was called to place his trust, his faith in what God alone could do. If we want to understand the rest of the story, this is the place we must start.

Fast forward several centuries in the story, and we find that God was more than true to His word: many generations of Abram’s great family have come and gone, who have at times shared in their forefather’s faith, but more often than not, fell into fear and unfaithfulness.

The ten Northern tribes of Israel had been swept away into exile by Assyria, and the Southern Kingdom of Judah was then overrun by Babylon. But this small portion of God’s chosen people had been able to return to the land, and rebuild… not to rule it like before, but to be ruled by powerful Gentile nations that knew nothing at all about the Living God and His ways.

After years in this situation, some Jews cut themselves off from the outside world to try and keep themselves pure. Many just went along with the strange new cultural context that they found themselves in, eventually forgetting the story of God, and their place in it.

And others worked hard to try to be faithful to God, to hold firmly onto their faith by following the traditions that had been passed on to them for generations. They thought that if they were obedient to God’s holy laws, and preserved their identity as children of Abraham, then God would come to their rescue… then God would send His chosen King, the Messiah, who would overthrow their enemies, and re-establish their kingdom… this time for good.

Then all of their struggles would be overcome. Then their future would be secured. If they just did what they were supposed to do, and be perfectly faithful to the Covenant, the Law, then God would reward them, rescue them, and share His reign with them.

This was the story that many in Jesus’ day were holding onto. And in one form or another, it’s still a story we find at work today.

Perhaps we too can remember a time when our future seemed secure, and our role in the world seemed strong, or at least, we were still hopeful that the best days for God’s people lay ahead of us.

And we know that’s not how things often seem today: Churches keep closing. Future generations seem absent.
The Christian faith seems sidelined in our society by so many other priorities. Like our old kingdom has been taken away, and we’re now living under the rule of those who don’t care about the Living God and His ways.
 
And in our own personal lives, many of us have faced serious setbacks and struggles… feeling at times like the hope we had for tomorrow has been totally shaken.

Maybe even today, we’re wondering what we’re supposed to do now? How can we turn things around? Searching for answers, for signs of how we can somehow regain God’s blessing. Like Nicodemus the Pharisee, maybe we’re coming to Jesus today with our own mix of faith and fears… hoping He'll tell us what we need to do to set things right.

And maybe, like Nicodemus, Jesus gives us Good News that we didn’t ask for, and often struggle to understand. Good News that doesn’t rest on what we can do, but on what God alone is bringing about. Good News that the New Life for ourselves and for our communities that we long for is truly open to us… but that it cannot be achieved by any natural means.

John 3:3, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

Born from above. Or born again, as some translations put it. Not a simple adjustment to the system, but a brand new beginning… one which, like our first births here below, we did absolutely nothing to earn, or achieve or instigate, but which we all received as a gracious gift.

In order to enter God’s kingdom, we must receive it as a gift… trusting, not in our actions in the present, our connections to the past, or our potential for the future… but trusting in what the Living God has given to us all in the gift of His Son:

John 3:16-17, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
 
Pharisees like Nicodemus thought God’s coming Kingdom would be a special gift for them… for the faithful Israelites… descendants of Abraham alone.

And we can be tempted to do the same, imagining God’s Kingdom is just for us… given to address our concerns, to alleviate our fears and ease our struggles… to restore our place in the world… to help our kingdom come, whatever that might be.
 
But Jesus came to bring God’s eternal life not just to Israel… not just to you and I… but to the whole broken world He loves and longs to save. This is His divine agenda… His mission from the very start.

Abram was chosen purely as a gift from the Living God, who Abram trusted to do what only God could do… bringing life to the dead, and calling “into existence the things that do not exist” (Romans 4:17). And through his story… as well as the story of all of Abram’s descendants… though mixed up with faith and fear, God’s own saving hand has been powerfully at work… not just for them, but for everyone.

As Christians today, we too have been chosen to take part in God’s story… in our own time to trust God to do what He alone can do, and bring His new life, not just for us, but for everyone.

For Jesus Christ was not lifted up on the cross for just one family… for one kind of community… or only for those who seem to deserve it. Jesus gave Himself over to endure the shame and suffering of the cross to bring the blessings of God’s everlasting life to all who believe.
 
We come to Jesus with all of our questions, and concerns, and hopes, and fears, and find Him waiting to give us His life… inviting us to turn to Him and trust Him with everything.  No matter how many times we have messed things up. No matter how discouraged, and afraid we may be… no matter how strongly we want to hold onto the past… no matter how well we behave in the present… no matter how promising or desperate our futures may seem… 
 
Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen Son of God, alone can save us. Jesus alone can give us God’s new life, now and forever. Jesus alone is where we must turn to understand God’s love for our broken world. And Jesus alone has given His life to rescue everyone.

Turning to Him in trust is not at all a guarantee that our kingdoms will be restored… that all our concerns will be resolved, our church pews and Sunday School classes filled again… our fears and struggles ended. Nicodemus did not experience the restoration of Israel that he had hoped for when he came to meet with Jesus alone that night… but he did experience a new beginning, the first signs of a new birth… drawn into the unexpected and glorious story of God’s Kingdom which Jesus alone is bringing about… one Nicodemus or Abram could never have imagined, and which invites all of us to believe in, and share with our world so they too can come to know:
 
that, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
 
May we believe this Good News of God’s gracious, saving love in Jesus Christ with all our heart, and mind, and strength… with all our lives… and may we share this hope with everyone. Amen. 

​​Our service of Morning Prayer, Bulletin, and Sermon this week can be found here:

​And our Songs this week can be found here:

Scripture Readings: Genesis 2:15–17, 3:1–7 | Psalm 32 | Romans 5:12–19 | Matthew 4:1–11

“Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.” (Romans 5:18)
 
Today we mark the first Sunday of the season of Lent: A time of preparation for the unfolding of Holy Week, and the story of Christ’s betrayal, death, and resurrection. Lent invites us all to slow down, to take stock, and turn back to the LORD with all that we are. And for many, Lent is a time to take up the spiritual practice of fasting… deciding not to eat, or to avoid certain behaviours for a time.
 
I have a bit of a confession to make: this year, I’ve struggled to come up with something to give up for Lent. Since I was introduced to the practice of Lenten fasts some years ago, I’ve often looked forward to this season, giving up things like: drinks with sugar in them, caffeine, meat, screentime in the evenings… all sorts of things that I might enjoy, but which I can choose to give up if it opens me more up to God. But this year, for some reason, I’ve really had a hard time getting a Lenten fast of the ground.

Preparing for today’s sermon, I spent some time reflecting on why this was… what was going on inside of me. And to be honest, I think I’d sort of forgotten what fasting is really all about. I think I had fallen into the trend of treating fasting like some sort of spiritual workout… some way to challenge and improve myself when it comes to the Christian life.
 
But there’s much more to fasting than this. There’s much more spiritual nourishment, and fulfillment that Christian fasting can help us receive… not as a technique or a method of making something happen… inside us, or out in the world… but as a way to say “yes” with all that we are to all that God has for us.
 
I’m deeply indebted to the New Testament scholar Scot McKnight, who literally wrote the book on Fasting, and who I think defines it very well: “Fasting is a person’s whole-body, natural response to life’s sacred moments.”[1]
 
McKnight goes on to unpack how this ancient practice fits into the story of Scripture, which then calls us to re-imagine what fasting might mean for us today.
 
McKnight claims “Because Israel’s perception of the person was unified, repentance often expressed itself in the physical act of fasting. The moment of turning from sin and back to God, of turning from a false path onto the path of light, of empathizing with God’s grief over Israel’s sin, was so sacred and so filled with the potential of the grace-giving God that Israelites chose not to eat.”[2] There is a deep sense of ones whole life, body, mind, and spirit, as being all wrapped up together, all integrated, so that any major events in ones life would call for a bodily response, just as much as one of the heart or mind.
 
So as we think about the season of Lent, and all it entails… the turning, or returning to the Living God… the practice of fasting, and so on, the question before us is: how are we turning to God with all of our heart, and mind, and body? With all that we are? Thankfully, our Scripture readings today point us towards the answer.
 
They hold up for us two stories… two paths, to approaches to life… to ways to be human… one rooted in the ancient depiction of the first humans, Adam & Eve, and the other arising from the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ.
 
So, this morning, I want to invite us to compare these two paths, these two stories side-by-side, and see what light they might be able to shine on our own lives today:
 
In our first reading from Genesis Chapter 3, we find Adam and Eve in the garden paradise of God: Created to bear and be the image of God, serving as His representatives and agents on earth… charged with caring for His good world, with tending and keeping His garden.
 
And in our reading today from St. Matthew’s Gospel we find a very different picture: we see Jesus being led up by the Spirit of God into the desolate wilderness. Into a dry and desolate land, wild and waste, and empty of life.
 
Now right before being led into the desert, Jesus had just been baptized in the Jordan River by John… which was the first moment when His unique identity was affirmed: Matthew 3:16-17, “And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Armed only with this divine declaration of love, Jesus goes out to the desert and fasts, deprived of even the basic necessities for forty days and nights, until He was famished. While in the garden, Adam and Eve had everything they could have wanted.
 
But despite these differences, these stories do have a few things in common. For instance, both the first humans in the garden, who were created in the image of God, and Jesus of Nazareth, who St. Matthew tells us is the beloved Son of God, would have their identities challenged and called into question by the voice of a deceiver.
 
In Genesis, a cunning serpent, who comes to signify dark spiritual forces opposed to God’s will, deliberately twists the words of the LORD to Adam and Eve, convincing them to doubt the LORD’s love for them, and that instead of giving them good limits that will lead them to abundant life, God was really just withholding something really good for them that they could simply seize for themselves: that is, the wisdom to discern good from bad on their own apart from God.
 
The serpent insists that they shouldn’t trust God’s word to them, and that instead, if they eat the forbidden fruit,
they “will not die; for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (Genesis 3:4-5).
 
The irony is, of course, they were already made to be like God: created as His image-bearers, they were made to reflect His divine character, and care for creation as His co-rulers, under His loving lordship. But the serpent offered them a path to being “like God” without this essential relationship. And they took the bait. They saw the fruit, they ate of it, and brought the power of death into God’s good world.
 
In a similar way, when the tempter comes after Jesus in the wilderness, famished after his long fast, the devil goes right for the stomach. But importantly, just like with Adam and Eve, this temptation was also a hidden jab at Jesus’ identity, seeking to plant the seeds of doubt in His relationship with the Living God. “If you are the Son of God,” the devil says, “command these stones to become loaves of bread.” (Matthew 4:3). But unlike Eve and Adam, Jesus does not doubt His Father’s word, or His loving care, trusting Him to graciously provide all the nourishment and strength required in His hour of need. Jesus answered, “It is written,
‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” (Matthew 4:4).
 
Back to the Garden, after they take and eat the fruit, we can see how the tempter had cut off the first couple’s confidence in God to care for them… and now, instead of serving as His images on earth, reflecting His goodness and glory with their lives for all the world to see, the humans, now full of shame, seek to hide themselves from the LORD, and one another. They were no longer free to be fearless… able to trust God to preserve them from harm.
 
Turning back to the Gospel, we find the devil leading Jesus to Jerusalem, to the very top of the Holy Temple… the pinnacle of God’s sacred place, where he dares Jesus to make the most public display of His faith imaginable: “If you are the Son of God,” the devil says, “throw yourself down; for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and
‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” (Matthew 4:6).
 
Twisting the Scriptures to suit his own purposes, the devil prompts Jesus: “Don’t you trust God? If you really are His Son, won’t He rescue you? Prove You have nothing to fear. Prove that You really trust Him! Prove You’re really who You think You are!”
 
And Jesus does prove He trusts God… just not at all in the way the devil demanded. Jesus responds by simply saying no. I trust My Father. I do not have to prove anything. I will “not put the Lord God to the test.” Unlike Adam and Eve, who had lost their faith in their relationship to the Living God, Jesus was able to place His complete confidence in His Father without any spectacle at all… just simple, quiet obedience and faithfulness was needed, not a dramatic show of so-called devotion. Faithfulness is how we can live fearlessly before the Lord.
 
So now the gloves come off. The time for subtly is over, and the devil lays all his cards on the table. He shows Jesus all of the kingdoms of the earth… all their glory, and splendour… and says: “It’s all Yours. All of it can be Yours. Just worship me, and I will give you the world. Everything!”
 
This is, of course, at the heart of the temptation that Adam and Eve were offered as well: ‘become like God, knowing good and bad for yourselves, and you can rule the world without Him. You can have everything you want, whenever you want it. You don’t need God, trust me.’
 
And of course, that’s what we did. Not just Adam and Eve in the Garden, but all of humanity… all through the ages… all over today’s headlines… this is the story of our world. Our story. Whether we’re talking about whole nations invading and seeking to dominate or destroy their neighbours… or people in positions of power, exploiting and abusing the vulnerable… or even the simple, self-centered lifestyles we just take for granted, that revolve around our desires for comfort, security, recognition, and success, whatever.

We see with our own eyes what we want. We reach out and take it for ourselves… and we re-introduce death into God’s good world… again and again and again.
 
Adam and Eve embody our story. Our path. Our way of life, apart from the Living God. Where we fearfully search for fulfillment, and only find ourselves famished instead.
 
But the Good News is, there is another story. Another path. Another way to live. One embodied in none other than Jesus of Nazareth.
 
To the tempter’s best offer, Jesus replies: “Away with you, Satan! for it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” (Matthew 4:10).
 
Jesus flat out refuses to serve the devil, or become a slave to His own desires, but radically reaffirms His devotion to His Heavenly Father alone. Where Adam and Eve were deceived, and led astray by doubting God’s love for them, Jesus completely passes the test by placing His trust, His life completely in God’s hands.
 
At this point, there’s nothing more that the devil can do to Him, and so this time of temptation comes to an end… but all through His life, Jesus will remain just as devoted, just as committed to His Father, which will require this same steady faithfulness every step of the way. The same way, the same path that Jesus calls you and I to follow.
 
And here, we too face a temptation: the temptation to reduce all that Jesus has done here to merely an example to emulate… showing us that faithfulness is possible, and then sending us out on our own to go, and do likewise.
 
This is one of the great temptations that plagues the religious life: the temptation to believe that all we need is to figure out what we need to do to make ourselves better… more spiritual… more godly… more like God, if you will… If that rings a bell.
 
This impulse can be deceptive, preying on our desires to do good, and be good, but offering us our own path to self-improvement and spiritual growth on our own terms. So then, even sacred seasons like Lent, and practices like fasting can become just one more forbidden fruit… good things, twisted to make us trust in ourselves and what we can achieve, instead of in God’s great love for us.
 
But the Good News is that Jesus did far more than just show us how to become good, or how to pass our own temptation tests… on our own. He passed the test for us! He faithfully faced every temptation in order to undo their fierce power over us, and now He shares His victory and New Life with us as well.
 
In other words, Jesus restarted and rescued the story of humanity once and for all.
 
This is the wonderful message that St. Paul was working through in his letter to the Romans, showing how what Jesus alone has done has changed everything.
 
Looking back to Genesis, St. Paul says “sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned” (Romans 5:12).

He then goes on, “But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died through the one man’s trespass, much more surely have the grace of God and the free gift in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many” (Romans 5:15).
 
“Free gift”, “grace”… these are the words St. Paul uses to describe how we now receive the New Life of God. A free gift, that has its source in one man: Jesus Christ.
 
He goes on to explore the differences between the works of Adam and Christ: through the first came condemnation, the domination of death for all through disobedience. But through the second comes justification, abundant grace, the free gift of righteousness, and new life for all “through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 5:21).
 
Jesus Himself has opened up another story for humanity… not to pursue or fulfill on their own, but to receive as a gift in Him. He took on Himself all the consequences for our failed story… taking up His cross and bearing the full brunt of the death that Adam and Eve earned for us all in the garden, and which we all keep on embracing in our own ways… and He did this to bring God’s New Life to those who place their faith, their trust not in themselves and what they can achieve… but in Jesus God’s Beloved Son, and what He has done.
 
And so we can commemorate Lent, and practice fasting, not to make ourselves better somehow, but to turn wholeheartedly to our Saviour. To step out of our old stories, and receive the free gift of His story… all that He is, all that He’s done for us, all that He will do in and through us. We can fast to entrust ourselves, our whole selves, mind, spirit, and body, into the nail-pierced hands of Jesus, who rest completely in the faithful, loving hands of our Father in Heaven. We fast to say no to ourselves, so we can say yes to Jesus, and in our weakness our emptiness, to find that He is our strength. That He is our sustenance, He is our bread from heaven, and the Word that comes from the Living God.  
 
So then, whether or not we take up a fast, or other Lenten practice this year, let us wholeheartedly entrust ourselves, our minds, our souls, and bodies, to Jesus, our loving Saviour, and step into His life-giving story. Amen.


[1] Scot McKnight, Fasting (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2009), xiv.
 

[2] Scot McKnight, Fasting (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2009), 24-25.

Today marks the first Sunday of Lent, a sacred season where Christians prepare in mind, body, and spirit, for Holy Week: the commemoration of the betrayal, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Some of the traditional practices of the season of Lent include fasting, study, reflection, and generous almsgiving. And so for each Sunday of Lent, in addition to our weekly At-Home worship resources, we'll also be sharing a link to an episode from the five-part podcast series by the Bible Project on the topic of Generosity. 

This first episode is called "Abundance or Scarcity".

​Our service of Morning Prayer, Bulletin, and Sermon this week can be found here:

​And our Songs this week can be found here:

Scripture Reading: Isaiah 43:16–21 | Psalm 126 | Philippians 3:4b–14 | John 12:1–8

“…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14)
 
There’s a lot we can say about fear: fear for our world… for ourselves and those we love. But this morning I want to specifically talk about our fears for the future of St. Luke’s Church and our Parish… fears shared by many Christian Churches these days.
 
Looking back a few decades, it all seemed like a very different situation: pews were full; Sunday School programs were packed; the younger generation seemed like a pretty solid foundation for our institutions. As we know, that’s not the case these days… for a whole lot of reasons. Some that we are responsible for, and others outside our control. For those of us who love and believe in the Church’s significance, this situation is a frightening one, and we naturally wonder where things are headed… and what we can do to perhaps head in a different direction?
 
Saying all this stuff out loud is important. We need to name our grief for what it is. And it’s ok to be sad that the story of St. Luke’s, and many congregations, has not turned out the way we had expected.
 
But as important as it is to acknowledge our disappointments, and to try our best to turn things around, there is the real danger before us of choosing to follow our fears… our fears of future loss… our fears of failure… anxieties which can only leads us away from God’s self-giving love, if we choose to focus instead on protecting ourselves.
 
But through our Scripture readings today, we are invited to follow a different path… to not be led by our fears, but to face the future with a heavenly hope. One which can help us gives thanks for God’s past mercies and grace… help us faithfully persevere amid the challenges that each day brings, and open us up to take our part in the New Life God is bringing about.
 
In our first reading, we heard from the prophet Isaiah a message of hope from God for Israel at a time when it seemed the future of their community was in jeopardy. They were facing tough times in the shadow of their powerful pagan neighbours, in large part because they had been unfaithful to the LORD their God. Yet alongside the words of warning that the prophet Isaiah offered came an invitation to turn to the Living God and trust in His saving love. Isaiah 43 begins this way, with verses 1-3:
“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; 
I have called you by name, you are mine. 
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; 
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; 
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, 
and the flame shall not consume you.
For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

These promises and assurances from God don’t just spring out of nowhere. They call to mind the many amazing things the LORD has done for Israel: redeeming them from slavery, providing for them in in the wilderness, establishing them in the Promised Land, and preserving them through countless catastrophes… even ones they had brought upon themselves.
 
But the hope that God is offering in Isaiah Chapter 43 is not simply found by dwelling on the past, or by desperately trying to fix their present problems all by themselves... Rather, it is to be found by looking to the LORD in active faith today… to turn to the One who has been faithful all along, who is with us, even in our present troubles, and who calls us to trust Him with our future, and the New Life that He is bringing about. Isaiah 43:18-19,
“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”
The prophet points us forward to anticipate not a return to the glories of the past, but to the “new thing” God has in store… something far beyond what Israel, or you and I, could have imagined: God’s New Life, His New Creation breaking through at last.
 
Many centuries later, this ‘new thing’… this New Life from God was finally coming to light in Jesus Christ, God’s Son. And in our reading today from the Gospel of John, we catch a glimpse of a His rescuing hand at work in the life of one of His followers… bringing something to life that breaks the awful power of fear: grateful, self-giving love.
 
This passage takes place in the town of Bethany, at the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, the now-famous friend of Jesus who had died, and whom Christ had restored to life after four days in the grave.
 
This is a significant point that we really need to pause and take note of: Not long before, there had been absolutely no natural hope left for Lazarus. He had no future at all, apart from the power of Jesus Christ to step in and set him free from the grave. But Christ had come… and so Lazarus lived again.
 
In a nutshell that is the Christian hope: Christ has come; in Him we live.
 
Returning to Bethany, we find Mary, the sister of Lazarus, offering a lavish display of gratitude to Jesus: she pours out on His feet precious anointing oil, then wipes  it with her hair. It’s a beautiful moment. An example of humble, self-giving love… a striking picture of worship…  filling the house with the fragrant offering of thanks and praise, in response to what Christ has done for her.
 
But there was a problem: after all, this gift was a huge waste. It was not at all practical… as Judas Iscariot points out. This act was not going to help feed the poor. Or draw more people into Christ’s growing movement. Surely these resources should have been used much more efficiently.
 
On the other hand, as the author, John, points out, this gift was also not going to feed Judas’ own selfish desires either… it did nothing to satisfy his greed… a temptation that rests on the lie that we don’t have enough.
 
How often do we let our own selfish desires and fears of not having enough lead the way? Lent is a great time to seek to become more aware of our own false motives, and consider how we too might need to let go of them.  
 
Even so, Judas raises an important point: the practical matters of God’s kingdom work do matter, after all! The poor need to be clothed and fed. The Good News needs to be shared with our world, and we do need to invite other people to join us in pursuing it. And there are times when it really does seem like we don’t have enough to do what we’ve been called to do. Times when we can easily find ourselves simply acting out of fear.
 
But the WHAT of the Church, the things we are called to do in the present as God’s people, flows out from the WHY… from the Good News of what the Living God has already done in the past… from His ongoing presence with us even now… and from the hope of a future that only He can open up for us to share in. It makes perfect sense to be led by fear when troubles come if we are all on our own. But the Good News is that in Jesus Christ God our Saviour is with us.
 
St. Paul speaks to this same basis for hope in our reading today from his letter to the Philippians. If hope for the future of God’s people rested on our human efforts and success, than St. Paul had plenty of reasons to be confident in himself: as far as Israelite heritage, religious learning, and sincere devotion were concerned, St. Paul had it all. Or in his words: “If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more” (Philippians 3:4). Yet this same man had also experienced tremendous difficulties, struggles, persecutions… the loss of everything. And yet he did not despair, and let his life be led by fear.
 
For St. Paul saw himself as sharing in the sufferings of His Saviour… Jesus, God’s own Son, who had not grasped onto His identity as the Almighty One, but who emptied Himself, and took up the mantle of humble service instead.  More than that, He took up the cross, embracing for our sake the loss of every conceivable sign of success… abandoned by both young and old, by the rich and poor alike… Jesus gave up everything, His body and blood… as an act of self-giving, faithful love for His Father in Heaven, and for a world of lost sinners like us.
 
The spectre of the cross was a truly frightful situation… the Gospel authors tell us Jesus dreaded facing it Himself. But even so, He was not led by fear, but by the love of the Living God. He could let go of all else as long as He stayed true in the love of God… a love that loss, betrayal, humiliation and even death could not overcome.   
And so, following in Christ’s footsteps, St. Paul could now let go of all else too: let go of his past success… let go of his expectations for the present… led by the love of the Living God to pursue wholeheartedly the New Life that, in Christ, the LORD was now bringing about.

“…forgetting what lies behind” he says, “and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14)
 
Today we’re invited to follow in St. Paul’s footsteps, as he followed Jesus our Lord: Not to place our hope in retrieving the glory of the past, but giving thanks for the good things God has done… grieving the loss of what has come to an end, and then placing the past in the hands of our faithful Saviour.
 
And we are invited not to be led by fear in the present either: but to faithfully share in the sufferings of our Saviour… honestly bringing our fears to Him in prayer, just as He calls us to! Remember the words of St. Peter, “Cast all your anxiety on [God], because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7).
 
Are we concerned about empty pews? Then let us pray, but not just that they may be filled for our sake, but that God would also help all of us to bring His Good News and self-giving love to those who may never darken our doors. Let us learn to pray for them just as earnestly.

Are we worried about small Sunday schools and the absence of younger generations? Then let us pray, but not just so that more young people will come here and make us feel more secure. The younger generation is not our future. We can’t place our hopes on them to save the Church… or for that matter, we can’t put that kind of pressure on their shoulders! What they need is not more burdens… what they need is to experience the freedom, and peace, and joy, and fellowship, and love, and New Life in Jesus Christ! That is why we want young people here… to share the Good News and God’s gift of love with them.
 
Otherwise, we’re not seeing them as they are… as beloved children of God. Otherwise, we’re just making them into a means to an end… to serve our own desires.
 
I’ll say this again: The future of the Church is not about having more young people. But the future of the Church invites young people into God’s story, just like the rest of us… because the future of the Church is God’s gift to us all in Jesus Christ. It’s the gift of freedom where once there was only fear. Joy where there once was sorrow and grief. Purpose and meaning where all once seemed hopeless. The future of the Church of Christ is New Life where there was none… a future that only the Risen Lord Himself can guarantee.
 
Back to John Gospel again. It once seemed that Mary had lost everything in the death of her beloved brother, but Jesus had done what no one else could do and brought them new life again. In thankfulness and praise, Mary offered back to Jesus a beautiful gift of love… an act of worship… a longing to bless the Lord, and share her love for Him.
 
When Judas protests, Jesus defends Mary’s so-called ‘wasteful’ gift. She was responding with all of her heart to the mercy and grace she had received, and her gift of worship and self-giving love became a part of the story of God’s salvation… preparing the way for the cross, and the New Life that Christ won for us there.
 
We are invited today to bring all our fears to the Lord and leave them with Him. And instead, to be led by the life-giving love of Jesus… to respond like Mary to His mercy and grace with worship, thanksgiving, and praise… like St. Paul to share in Christ’s sufferings and loss for a time, but filled with the hope that in Christ alone our future is on solid ground... pursuing our deepest calling as the Church to make known His self-giving love in all we say and do.
 
Love, not fear needs to lead us forward as a Parish. Love, not fear which is ours to share in Jesus Christ.
So let us bring our fears to our Heavenly Father, and pray that His saving will be done in our Church, and press on in hope together towards the heavenly calling of God in Jesus Christ. Amen.

​Our service of Morning Prayer, Bulletin, and Sermon this week can be found here:

And our Songs this week can be found here:

Scripture Readings: Joshua 5:9–12 | Psalm 32 | 2 Corinthians 5:16–21 | Luke 15:1–3, 11b–32

“If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)
 
Our Gospel reading today recounts a well-known, and well-beloved parable… a powerful story offering surprising comfort and hope… good news for all who have wandered, and lost themselves… a window into the heart of God’s abundant saving grace, which calls us all to be transformed by His New Creation.
 
Before we dig in to this parable and try to discern it’s message for us this morning, perhaps we should take a step back and remember it’s place in Luke’s wider story. For the last few chapters in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus has been hard at work revealing the character of God’s good Kingdom. He has been teaching with many parables, short stories and punchy word-pictures that often have the effect of shaking up the expectations of those listening. He has also been more directly confronting the beliefs and practices of many regarding what it really means to be faithful to the LORD… about what it means to be aligned and in sync with what the Living God is up to in the world.
 
Luke tells us today that many were moved by what Jesus was saying and doing, but that not everyone appreciated what they were hearing… or seeing. Luke 15:1-2 says 
“Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”
If Jesus claims to be sent from God, and to walk in God’s holy ways, they grumbled, then how could He stand to spend time and share meals with those kind of people?
 
Before we look down on the Pharisees and scribes, let’s not ignore our own easy prejudices… our own tendencies to avoid the ‘wrong kind of people’, whoever that may be. Who are the ones that we would find hard to welcome and to share a meal with? Who do we find it hard to imagine taking part in God’s Kingdom?  
 
In answer to the complaints of the Pharisees and scribes, Jesus tells three parables: about a Lost Sheep, a Lost Coin, and a Lost Son… or rather, Lost Sons. All three of these parables speak of the surprising and saving love of God, but the longest, the story of the Lost Sons, ups the ante, and drives home the point… and a challenge.

First off, we hear about the shameful story of the younger son, who insults his father’s honour, wastes every penny of his inheritance by chasing after his own desires, and is left destitute in a foreign land… having lost everything… not only money, but friendship, dignity, and hope. He has no one who cares for him. He’s burned every single bridge.
 
But in his lowest moment, he remembers his father, and how his father had treated his servants with kindness. Of course, it was out of the question to be welcomed back into the family after all he had done… but maybe his father would have pity enough to hire him? Maybe? So the youngest son returns, planning to sell himself to survive.
 
But Jesus paints for us a picture of welcome no one would have anticipated. At the first sight of his shameful, ruined son, the father is filled with compassion and races toward the wretch, welcoming him home with a warm embrace and throwing a joy-filled feast in celebration. The scholar Roger Van Harn unpacks the significance of the father’s welcome, and what it meant for the young man’s future:
“What follows are the signs of restoration. The best robe was the father’s robe. The signet ring was a sign of restored authority and responsibility. The shoes were a sign that he was indeed a son, not a servant. The killing of the fatted calf was a sign that the whole community was invited to celebrate the restoration of the relationship. The unexpected, extravagant display of grace in restoring his son is accounted for by the father’s own words: ‘Let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’”[1]
 
The younger son had indeed brought shame and dishonour on his family, and lost everything… but what mattered most to the father was that this wayward son had returned. That they were reunited, reconciled. That new life could begin.
 
What a beautiful picture of grace, forgiveness, and abundant, generous love… offering comfort and hope to all of us who have made a mess of our lives. This story is a glimpse into the gracious love of the Living God, who above all longs for His wayward children to return to Him and find new life in His arms… but the story’s not over. Let’s turn now to the story of the eldest son.

Unlike his shameful brother, the elder son had done his duty. He had been loyal and diligent, setting aside his own desires to serve his father… anticipating the day he would be rewarded for his faithfulness, unlike that reprobate brother of his, who was thankfully gone for good.
 
But then the lost younger son returns… and the oldest hears that he has been welcomed home with a feast, and fully restored into the family. The elder son is incensed at the thought of welcoming home this ‘son of his father’ he can’t bring himself to call brother…. and so he refuses to join in the party. He cuts himself off from the joy of his father, and stands at a distance, grumbling.  
 
Again, the father does the unexpected: he goes out in search of his other lost son, and pleads with him to come home from the fields and join in the joyful celebration. Far from an expression of favoritism, the father loves both of his sons, and longs for them both to be reunited in his love:
“Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’” (Luke 15:31-32).

Then Jesus ends the story with the elder son’s response left hanging, leaving his listeners to wonder ‘How will he respond to the father’s invitation?’ Will he hold onto his resentment and bitterness, and refuse to welcome home this sinner who has finally returned? Or will he relent and follow his father back to the house and join in the celebration, reunited and ready to share in a new life together?
 
Of course, this story was told to invite others to choose how they too would respond. How were the Pharisees and scribes to respond to the surprisingly gracious welcome that Jesus was offering to tax collectors, outcasts, sinners, and all the ‘wrong’ sorts of people, who had drawn near to Jesus, seeking from Him the New Life of God’s Kingdom?
 
Perhaps more to the point: How will you and I respond? How will our lives either reject or embody this gracious, abundant love of God Jesus offers… love that does not shy from welcoming sinners, and sharing all that we have with them? The love that longs for all of us to be restored and reconciled?

This parable offers us all an invitation to rejoice in the gracious, rescuing love of the Living God, not only as it bears fruit in our own lives, but in all those who will draw near to Jesus and seek out New Life in Him? It is calling us not just to acknowledge this love from a safe distance, grumbling with our arms crossed, but rather to actively share in the New Life of Jesus Christ… extending His welcome… inviting others with our words and our actions to draw near to in Him in faith, and come to His table… where we are all offered the forgiveness, mercy, and reconciliation. The joyful celebration of sinners returning home, rescued by God’s truly faithful Son who let Himself be lost on the cross so that we all might be found… who died for us, so that we might live, reunited to our Father forever. Who rose again from the grave, so that we might know that in Jesus Christ the risen Lord, God has begun His New Creation… transforming us even today… not the least by transforming the way we see and treat those all around us.
 
St. Paul spoke of this in his letter to the Christians in the city of Corinth. In 2 Corinthians 5:14-19 he writes: “For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.
 From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.”
 
Christ came to seek and to save the lost… and to rescue us all through offering His life once and for all… to transform us by His saving love, not just into better people… like the elder brother seemed at first, compared to the younger son… but to reunite us to the very heart of the Father… to reconcile us all to the Living God, and fill us with His Holy Spirit, so that we can live reconciled together as the beginning of God’s New Creation.
 
So now, remembering that in Christ Jesus God has welcomed us all, and bids us join in the joyful celebration and the New Life of His Kingdom, how can we respond today to His forgiveness, grace and abundant, saving love? How can we let go of the prejudices, and grudges that threaten to keep us apart? And how can we help those around us drawn near to Jesus, and share in His New Creation too? Amen.


[1] Roger E. Van Harn, “Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year C,” in The Lectionary Commentary: Theological Exegesis for Sunday’s Texts, Volume Three, ed. Roger E. Van Harn (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001), 409–410.

​And our Songs this week can be found here: