Posted by stpauls on January 31, 2010 under Sermons | 
One of the groups charged with leadership here at St. Paul’s is our Church Committee. It is the board of our parish, elected by the membership once a year at our annual general meeting. The Church Committee assists the priest, the wardens, and the community as a whole in mapping out our future together. Its job is to remind all of us that mission and ministry stay at the core of what it means to be a Christian community.
We start our monthly meetings with Bible Study. It is not a scientific, academic Bible Study, but the method we use is a more direct interaction with the actual text. We try to listen intently and intentionally to the words of the Bible. In the words of The Revelation to John, this Bible study is about listening “to what the Spirit is saying to God’s people.” And if you want to experience this particular method you are invited to attend our Church Committee meetings, which are always public.
Usually we study an appointed text for the following Sunday. It is a sneaky way by the priest to get ideas for his next sermon …
One of the fascinating things that happens during these Bible studies is this: Even though we might know the texts intimately, by studying it in community, by listening to the Spirit speaking to us both through the words on the page and also through the experiences of those around us. New, meaningful, profound, and life-giving insights emerge. Very often, Scripture opens to us in ways that we might not have experienced before. For me, this is a sign and a witness that God’s healing and prophetic Sprit is among us during these studies. And it is a reminder that spirituality cannot be practised in a vacuum, as a one-man or one-woman show. In order to stay alive and sane, in order to stay connected to the path of truth, spirituality must regularly intersect and interact with the community of the faithful.
Having said this, these Bible studies are equally a reminder that it doesn’t solely need theological experts to interpret the Bible. Every single one of us regardless of age, colour, gender, socio-economic background, education, sexual orientation, or heritage is capable of discerning in community “what the Spirit of God is saying.” Every single one of us is worthy of engaging the Word of God. God has something life-giving to offer each and every one of us. God wants to reveal words of wisdom to each and every one of us. God seeks to open a path of life and truth for each and every one of us. God has a plan: for each and every one of us.
And, of course this is what conversion is all about. It is about discovering the path that God has laid in front of us – and then walking it. And Conversion does not just happen in the life of Paul, but it also happens in the life of each and every one of us.
Some of you more seasoned spiritual sojourners will have noticed that despite today’s celebration of the feast of Paul’s conversion, we didn’t encounter the traditional text. None of the readings described Paul’s journey to Damascus, on which in a rather miraculous way he encountered the might of the living God when he was thrown off his high horse and heard the risen Christ speak to him. And I hope you remember from sermons past, that this experience doesn’t speak so much of conversion as a sudden intervention, but it speaks to the radical changes that occur in our lives when we are confronted and disarmed by the Good News of God in Christ.
But today we didn’t hear the story of Paul’s conversion. There was a choice today and I picked the reading from Galatians to mix things up a bit and to find another theological perspective for this special day.
And the Holy Spirit, I believe, did indeed tug at my heart in a different way. When we were reading the passage at the last Church Committee meeting, the Spirit opened my heart to these words from today’s passage: Paul writes: “God … set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace.”1
In these few words, which are central to Pauline theology, Paul makes a point that we sometimes – in our struggle with other Pauline texts – overlook. And the point is this: Despite the fact that Paul is one of those Christian saints who is larger than life, for Paul himself, it really is all about God. God is the subject, not Paul. God does the converting, not Paul. God is the one who calls Paul on to the way of righteousness. It is not Paul doing it by himself. Paul is nothing more and nothing less than our brother. He is human – just like you and me. The reason we celebrate Paul’s conversion is not because Paul needs to be celebrated; we celebrate because in today’s feast God is glorified and something unique about God is revealed.
Far too often we look at Paul as the “theologian” only, as the one who doesn’t seem to know how to escape his particular theological, cultural, and sociological framework when he speaks of God. And this gets Paul into trouble in our day and age. And I think rightly so. We, thank God, are moving past sexism and homophobia – even in the church.
But today too often we forget that there is another side to Paul. There is “Paul, the mystic.” There is Paul, who comes to recognize that it is not our doings, not our achievements (or the lack thereof) that define us in the eyes of God. But our very being, our identity is defined by God’s reaching out to us in love. In his conversion, Paul is given an insight on how God looks at us: God is no persecutor. But God seeks to embrace and penetrate every fibre of who and what we are. God yearns to heal and restore us in body, mind, and soul. Paul understands that it is all about God’s love for us, for you, for me, and for each and every one of our sisters and brothers, whoever they are and wherever they find themselves on the journey. It is the discovery of God’s abundant love that turns Paul around and that allows him to become a lover of God, and, like God, also a lover of humanity.
God had to blow apart Paul’s original image of God, because, in his zealous strife to do things right, Paul had replaced the love of God with a desire to maintain supposed and assumed theological purity. In his spiritual journey, Paul had forgotten about love and about the mysterious connection between love of God and love of neighbour. Paul’s eyes finally were opened and he was able to see that one cannot love God without extending this love to fellow members of the human race.2
In one of his letters, Paul later writes: But “[i]f I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, and do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”3
When God revealed in Paul’s life the love of God made manifest in Jesus, Paul not only recognized God’s healing power for his soul, but those he persecuted were turned from enemies to sisters and brothers. The nameless and faceless masses he had hunted down became friends with faces and names: Cephas, James, and many, many others. God broke through the wall of Paul’s self-righteous, arrogant and egocentric spirituality, which made him believe that he is right, but no other. Paul was finally able to listen to others. His sisters and brothers became important for him because they helped him figure out who he was and who God wanted him to be.
And this is true for us too. The great theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer once observed: “We all become disciples on our own, but none of us stays alone.”4 God converts our hearts so we may experience God’s love working in us and so that our eyes are opened to see God’s love for our neighbours, too.
When Kerlande Kaye last week spoke so passionately about losing nine cousins in the earthquake in Haiti, it made the horrors of Haiti real. Those far away, those without names and faces, became our sisters and brothers. And just like listening to James and Cephas changed Paul’s heart, so do Kerlande’s words call for our hearts to be changed. The horror in Haiti has a name and a face and God has called us before we were born, not only to become lovers of God, but to become lovers of those faces and names, too.
In the end, conversion is meaningless if it remains just a personal reorientation of our journey. Godly conversion, in contrast, leads us to both discover a path that leads us deeper into the mystery of God and equally to open our eyes and hearts and minds to the needs of those around us. And this is what we celebrate today.
1 Galatians 1:15
2 cf. 1 John 4
3 Corinthians 13:1f
4 Bonhoeffer, Dietrich: “Nachfolge”
[The Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on January 31, 2010.]
Posted by stpauls on under Bible Readings, Webmaster Blog |
Matthew 10:16-22 ~ Reading for January 31, 2010
Jesus said to the twelve, “See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; and you will be dragged before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them and the Gentiles. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; and you will be hated by all because of my name. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”
Posted by stpauls on under Bible Readings, Webmaster Blog |
Galatians 1:11-24 ~ Reading for January 31, 2010
I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.
You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors.
But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus. Then after three years, I did go up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and stayed with him fifteen days; but I did not see any other apostle except James the Lord’s brother. In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie! Then I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, and I was still unknown by sight to the churches of Judea that are in Christ; they only heard it said, “The one who formerly was persecuting us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy.” And they glorified God because of me.
Posted by stpauls on January 30, 2010 under Contributors, Webmaster Blog |
So, what’s happening these days? The December minutes have been posted in the narthex and on the bulletin boards. Copies are available at the back of church for you to take, mark, read, learn, and inwardly digest. Among the subjects mentioned are
- a discussion with the Webmaster;
- progress of MAP (Ministry Assessment Program);
- creation of the new position of Parish Administrator;
- results of a study regarding suitability of space at St. Paul’s for shelter for the homeless;
- need for repairs to the church hall roof;
- date for this year’s (the 120th) Annual Vestry Meeting and the ever-popular Treasurer’s report.
Thanks, Jo Anne Tharalson
Posted by stpauls on January 28, 2010 under Staff Blog, Webmaster Blog |
The Primate World Relief and Development Fund (PWRDF) continues to accept donations to help the people of Haïti.
On-line: Go to www.canadahelps.org and type in “PWRDF,” which will take you the donation page where you can designate “Haiti earthquake.
By Phone: (credit card) Jennifer Brown 416-924-9192 ext. 320; 1-866-308-7973
Please do not send your credit card number by email or fax.
By Mail: Make cheques payable to “PWRDF,” mark them for “Haiti earthquake,” and send them to: The Primate’s World Relief and Development Fund, The Anglican Church of Canada, 80 Hayden Street, Toronto, Ontario M4Y 3G2
PWRDF Donations Contact: Jennifer Brown, 416-924-9192 ext. 320; 1-866-308-7973
PWRDF Humanitarian Response Coordinator: Naba Gurung, 416-924-9192 ext. 321
Posted by stpauls on January 26, 2010 under Staff Blog, Webmaster Blog |
In response to the extreme devastation and suffering in Haïti, we can help in our small way. Fellow parishioner Kerlande Kaye and students at Vancouver Community College’s (VCC’s) Jewellery Department are creating a chain of silver hearts that will be raffled off. 100% of the money that is raised will be donated to an appropriate organization. The ticket will sell for $5 each and the draw will take place at VCC on Wednesday, February 10.
Kerlande is a native of Haïti and will work directly on this project, together with VCC professors Susan Remnat and Maciek Walentowicz and all the students of the jewellery department. For any information, please do not hesitate to contact Kerlande at 604-833-8274.
Posted by Priest on January 24, 2010 under Sermons |
Last Friday night, a group of parishioners met at my place to discuss ordained diaconal ministry. It was quite a wonderful evening as we listened and learned from each other and from some outside resources about the place of the order of deacons in the life of the church.
There are four orders in the church: the laity, bishops, priests, and deacons. Deacons are the oldest ordained order in the church. They first appear in the Acts of the Apostles, which is the record of the church’s history between the ascension of Christ and the death of the Apostles.
Ever since their inception, deacons have been charged with servanthood ministry, as they assist the marginalised, embrace the disenfranchised, become advocates for the voiceless, provide for those who cannot care for themselves, and, as in the words of our Book of Alternative Services, they reach out and serve “particularly the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely.”1
But this is not just mere charity. Outreach and social justice are central Gospel-ministries, en par with any other ministry of the church. This is why deacons have another role to play in the life of the church. Not only do they reach out to the world, but they reach inside to the community of the faithful to remind the church that what deacons do is not just an appendix, but it is integral to the identity of the church. Even when some in the church do not want to heed their prophetic voice, deacons are a living remembrance that in serving the poor we serve Christ himself and that the church indeed is called to stand with those who have no-one else to stand with.
Deacons are a nagging conscience to do the work God has given us to do, even when this work seems hard or dirty or unpopular or uncomfortable. Yes, the deacons’ job is to bring the church in her ministry not only to comfort the afflicted but also to afflict the comfortable. And sometimes what the deacons have to tell the church isn’t easy for the church’s members to hear. One Anglican bishop once described deacons as a “pebble” in the shoes of the church, a constant reminder that God calls us not to comfort and rest, but to work and minister with all God’s people and for all God’s people. In more concrete ways, deacons are to identify the needs of the world to the church and then lead the church in ministering to those specific needs.
In this understanding of ministry, we can look at Mary in today’s account from the Gospel according to John as an archetype of the deaconate. Mary sees and identifies the need and brings about what is needed to avert the crisis. And, let me tell you, the need Mary identifies isn’t just the need to have more to drink!
Weddings in first century Palestine were quite the affair. The whole village was mobilized. For the family throwing the party, it was a way to show off. The more people participated, the better they were regarded. Honour was at stake.
In Mary’s times, extended family members and friends were expected to assist with the wedding and lend a helping hand where needed. And again, the more friends who showed up and the more of these friends who helped, the more the hosts were valued.
When the wine runs out in today’s story, it is therefore a double-whammy. Not only does it threaten the honour of the bridegroom’s family because they didn’t provide enough. It is also a blow to their status, because their friends obviously either aren’t good enough or don’t care enough to be able to provide and help. And of course, the honour of their friends is at stake too.
This is why Mary steps in. She approaches Jesus to inform him of the problem. Mary becomes a pebble in Jesus’ shoe, dragging him out of the joy of the party to deal with the needs of the family of the bridegroom. And Jesus doesn’t seem so pleased at first sight. Who would be? Having a pebble in your shoe isn’t so great. Being reminded to do work and to help those in need in the midst of grandiose festivities isn’t either. “My hour hasn’t come,” Jesus says looking to the future. He stays preoccupied with less practical things, turning to matters of mind and spirit and soul. Something many in the church do oh-so-well when a need arises! How often have we heard faithful Christians maintain that the church should stay out of politics and stick to spiritual matters…!
But Jesus wouldn’t be God’s son and Mary’s son if the story would end here. Even though he addresses his mother with “woman” he does not push her away. For our ears, this might be an odd and dismissive way to talk to our mothers, but not so in first century Cana. Jesus will once more address his mother with “woman” in John’s Gospel: When he is nailed to a cross, when he is helpless and robbed of his humanity, when he needs her help. “Woman,” therefore, is a term of endearment. Jesus hears Mary and, more importantly, takes up what Mary has laid out in front of him.
And Mary follows Jesus’ lead. She recognizes that there is more to Jesus’ words than meets the eye, and so she instructs the servants to follow Jesus’ advice and to do exactly as he commands. This is how wondrous things can happen: Water is changed to wine, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
In the end, Jesus really doesn’t leave the realm of mind, spirit and soul. He just extends the realm of the spiritual to include the practical. Mary lays the world’s needs at the feet of her son and Jesus takes them up and breaks through the divide we have created between spiritual and profane. Good wine fills the jars that are used for one of the most common Jewish practices.
And there is more: Today’s story isn’t just about the physical manifestation of wine either. Wine, in Mediterranean spirituality was often used as a representation of the abundance of God’s love for us. We might in our day and age struggle with this image as we have discovered the wicked effects of alcoholism – and rightly so. But in days past, “wine” spoke symbolically of God’s flavourful, rich, deep, profound, and abundant embrace of life, of each and every one of us. Wine symbolised the amazing and awesome beauty of God’s gifts for us all. The complexity of the taste of wine was seen as a reminder that God’s love for us is not just like a zip of tasteless water. But just like wine affects our senses, so does God’s embrace penetrate our bodies, minds, and souls. The abundance of God’s love is too deep, too beautiful, too wonderful to be put in mere words.
Those, who recognize God’s splendour, those who let themselves be fully taken into God’s healing and God’s salvation, those who do not hold back, but give themselves with all that they are and all they have to God, those who answer God’s abundant reaching out to us by giving themselves without limit: They are drunk with life and drunk with love. They have tasted the goodness of God, and God has turned the water in the jars of their hearts to wine. God has changed them from something ordinary to something quite extraordinary.
When the water at Cana turned into wine, Jesus did not reveal himself as a first century miracle worker. No, something much more profound was happening: Jesus revealed the abundance of God made flesh in him. And Jesus revealed God’s will that beckons us to live out of that abundance – even in times of need, even in times of horror.
It is still hard to stomach the pictures that come out of Haiti.
Just last week, I found myself in tears as I watched a report on the CBC about a woman searching desperately for her sisters, only to find them dead, buried under the rubble of her parents’ home. Cameras were rolling as she stood in agony. And it is heartbreaking. It is a deep shadow thrown on our minds and souls. Yet, Mary lays it all at our feet. “They have no wine,” she says. They have no hope, no life, no help. The situation in Haiti is pressing on us like a pebble in our shoes. Jesus has filled the jars of our hearts with wine, with the abundance of God’s love. And God’s love cannot remain there. God’s love waits to be shared with those in need.
We here in Canada have been blessed with an abundance of gifts, gifts that wait to be shared: Today you will hear of a project organised by a parishioner, who herself has lost family in the earthquake. Earlier this week another parishioner organised a container filled with goods needed by the people of Haiti. Both these acts of generosity are a sign that water has been turned to wine and that the wine is flowing from our parish.
But more can be done! Pray for those who suffer. Donate, if you can. And advocate for a just world. Haiti needs us, even when the relief-convoys have ended. Haiti needs debt-relief and a development that bursts the bonds of economic dependency.
In serving the poor, we are serving Christ Jesus himself. In standing with those in need we claim for ourselves and we proclaim to the world, that we, like the disciples, believe in Jesus, too.
1 The Book of Alternative Services, p. 655
[The Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on January 24, 2010.]
Posted by Webmaster on under Bible Readings, Staff Blog |
John 2:1-11 ~ Reading for January 24, 2010
On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding.
When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”
Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.”
Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
Posted by Priest on January 22, 2010 under Contributors, Webmaster Blog |
It is hard to believe, but the day unfortunately has come: After years of amazing service to our community, our parish administrator, Nancy Kwasnicki, is retiring. Nancy has been a vital part of our parish and we are deeply indebted for all she has contributed: for her hard work, for countless hours of overtime she was willing to put in, and for the hospitable way in which she greeted thousands on the phone or at our doors.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Nancy’s last day of work will be 31 March 2010 and we will celebrate her time with us and offer our gratitude to her at a date to be announced. Watch this space.
As we continue to move forward in our mission and ministry here at St. Paul’s, the wardens and I, with the support of the church committee and in consultation with affected ministry teams, have decided to restructure our current staff positions: Starting 1 March 2010 we will fold the positions of parish administrator, labyrinth administrator, and bookkeeper into one full time position. Today, we are starting the process of hiring somebody for this position (see attachment). Please feel free to disseminate the job description among friends and family members.
Please feel free to contact me or any other member of the leadership if you have any questions, concerns, or observations.
Yours in Christ,
Markus+
The Rev. Markus Dünzkofer, Rector
St. Paul’s Anglican Church
1130 Jervis Street
Vancouver, B.C. V6E 2C7, Canada
http://stpaulsanglican.bc.ca
604 685 6832 x14
Posted by Priest on January 17, 2010 under Sermons |
Today is already the 17th day of the new year. And not just a new year. A new decade has dawned upon us. Didn’t we just celebrate the new millennium…? As the old year faded away, many took time to take stock and look back. What did the old year bring us? Was it a year filled with ups or with downs? I bet there is a bit of both in each year. But as the clocks turn on the 31st day of December, we did not just look back: The New Year also lends itself to profound ponderings. What will 2010 bring? God only knows! Still, as we mark a new year, we are often filled with positive anticipation. It is a moment for us to hope and dream and wish and plan a wonderful tomorrow. It is a time to press the reset button for a new beginning. Happy New Year and Happy New Beginnings.
Today’s Gospel story also reveals a new beginning: God’s new beginning with us.
And for many modern theologians, God’s new beginning didn’t so much start with Jesus’ obscure birth on a dark night witnessed by angels, shepherds, and magi. But it is today’s account that marks the arrival of God’s new reign into our reality as God claims Jesus as His beloved and adopts him as the One in whom God’s will is fulfilled.
No longer do we have to search for the almighty God in the heavens far away. No longer do we have to stretch high to reach God. No longer do we have to look up to receive God’s blessing. God’s blessing walks right among us. God reaches down to us and seeks us out. God’s healing and salvation can be grasped and can be embraced.
Today’s reading from the Gospel According to Luke reveals that at Jesus’ Baptism it is more than plain water that is poured. Something fundamentally new is established, something that does not enter the world for a limited time, but something that is eternal, something that could not even be overcome by the terror of the cross or by the reality of human death: In Jesus, God is with us. In Jesus, God walks our ways, talks our language, and listens to our words with human ears. God meets us where we are. God is at eye-level with you, with me and with everybody else. God does not shy away from us, but today God affirms that creation is intended as something good, something very good. You and I were created to be beautiful, awesome, and wonderful. Because God embraced humanity so fundamentally and so fully in Jesus, the words that penetrate the divide between heaven and earth at Jesus’ baptism were words spoken not just to him, but they are spoken to us all: We, too, are God’s beloved, each and every one of us.
After some 2000 years of hearing the story over and over again, it is easy to forget the radical newness of these words. For many, this was blasphemy or simply impossible. The god (or gods) worshipped by most at the time of Jesus was a deity that looked more like a despot, not unlike the Emperor, who lived far away and was accessible only to a few. You only heard of those in power if there was trouble!
But the Creator of heaven and earth is not like this! Already in the Hebrew Scriptures, there are signs and not-so-subtle hints that reveal God quite differently. God’s story with Israel witnesses to God, who is intrinsically bonded to us and fundamentally interested in us. God constantly sought to build up Israel as a sign of God’s order: A nation filled with love and compassion, filled with peace and justice, reconciled with God and with her neighbours. And today’s text continues in this tradition as it moves into the world at large. Today is the public manifestation in the flesh of God’s order. It is a new beginning for us all. God says: “You are my beloved!”
New beginnings. New hopes. New dreams. New wishes and plans for a wonderful tomorrow. It really is all around us: A new year and a new beginning offered to us in the Gospel and offered to us also in our own baptisms.
But 17 days into the new year, I find myself wondering about our hopes and dreams and wishes and plans for a wonderful tomorrow. As the horrific pictures from Haiti flood our screens and flood our minds and our hearts, my sense of new beginnings has disappeared. What is left is a sense of horror, sadness, grief, and emptiness. I am overwhelmed. My heart is broken. And I know, after the initial shock has vanished, there will be questions about the seeming abandonment by God. The pain of the people of Haiti literally cries to the heavens. What happened to God’s intrinsic interest in us? Did God, or whoever created this world, abandon us after all?
I have no clear answers and I find nothing that will make sense of the disaster.
But I do know that the earthquake is no punishment for something the people of Haiti might or might not have done in the past. For some, like Pat Robertson, to claim that this is a direct result of past behaviour is not just overly simplistic, it is also wrong. These are no times to be simplistic or idiotic! A quick look into his Bible should remind Mr Robertson that not just Job encounters evil and pain even though Job is described as a “man [who] was blameless and upright … who feared God and turned away from evil.”1 Evil, such as the Haitian earthquake, is not the result of behaviour by the Haitian people! And Pat Robertson is not preaching the one true God, if he says otherwise.
In contrast, I would like to share something with you. It is something some of you might have heard before. It is a story. It is a story that is one of those “signs and not-so-subtle hints” in Hebrew Scripture that I mentioned earlier and that speak of God’s intrinsic bond with us and God’s fundamental interest in us. It is the story of God’s fight with Jacob, or Jacob’s fight with God, if you prefer.
In this story, Jacob, one of the ancient patriarchs of Israel, after some time abroad, returns to his homeland. Before entering the lands of his ancestor, he tries to rest at the river Jabbok for a night. Yet, he will not find rest that night. An angel, or a man, or some divine being, i.e. God wrestles with Jacob all through the night and God “did not prevail against Jacob.”2 So God strikes Jacob on the hip. But Jacob holds on and does not let go of God. He demands a blessing, which he receives.
This story is the biblical permission to fight with God. When we struggle and do not understand, when we are in pain, overcome by sadness, when darkness seems to swallow us up, then it is no time for simple answers, for easy consolation. But it is time to engage God deeply – and even fight with God.
Thousands have vanished in Haiti and the One who is in charge should not be let off the hook. God is strong enough and big enough to hold our frustration, our grief, our pain, our questions, and our anger. In his baptism, Jesus subjected himself to John so that God would subject himself to all our feelings, concerns, and struggles and so that God would know of the depth of the human experience, even our pain. God’s embrace is not something found only in heaven, something we have to earn. But God acts for us and in us now: God brings the light of his healing, brings salvation and life, brings his abundant and endless love into the midst of our human lives, into the midst of our hearts.
And we cannot just walk away. Jacob’s story teaches us that in the midst of chaos, God is not absent, but is present. We must engage God, must seek God not just in our hearts, but must seek him and his compassion all around us.
We must engage – and must do so with all that we are.
This does not mean that the darkness is a test or that there is a logical correlation, which says that “good will come of evil.” Again, that would be too simplistic.
But when we enter the darkness; when we are willing to not look away and move on; when we face reality, even the reality of death and pain; when we stand by our sisters and brothers in Haiti with prayer and action; then we will be able to enter deeper into God, and then we will be able to understand more about who we really are created to be. It is in the face of those who need us that we will see God. It is in the eyes of those who are suffering that we will discover our true humanity. It is in the embrace of those in pain that we will hear God calling us “beloved, in whom I am well pleased.”
Darkness is part of our reality. But equally part of our reality is God’s call to fight evil and bring hope to those who suffer.
This is a conundrum that is hard to swallow and hard to reconcile. Yet, I believe that if we are willing to hold the tension of this conundrum, if we do not shy away from living into this dilemma, we will find meaning, healing, and salvation in ways beyond imagination: for us, for our sisters and brothers in Haiti, and for all who are engulfed in pain and despair.
In baptism we are covered by water first and we first must go down into the depth of the darkness of the font. But there we will meet Jesus waiting for us, waiting to raise us to life eternal.
To help the people of Haiti please go here.
1 Job 1:1
2 Genesis 32:25
[The Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on January 17, 2010.]
