Posted by stpauls on under Staff Blog | 
A BIG thank you to the choir for working very hard to make this year’s Lessons and Carols Service on Sunday, November 30 especially wonderful and prayerful. Anita Boomer, Joyce Dickson, Grace Gopaul, Kay Kerlande, Melissa Krull, Nicola Law, Shirley Sabong, Nina Shoroplova, George Middleton, Dale Pleven, David Ryniker, John Teahen, and John Wilson sang their hearts out! Great job!
Thank you also to Tim Conklin, Dianne Davies, Roy Simeon, Anil Patade, Leslie Buck, Rose Desrochers, James Mead, Dorothy Barnes, and Steve Shannon for reading the Lessons during the service and to Sarah Tippett and Tony Nickels for the musical accompaniment.
A very special, deep, and heartfelt thank you, however, belongs to our organist and choir director, Dianne Warren, who made it all possible. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
If you weren’t there, you missed something wonderful, something special, and something quite profound…
Posted by stpauls on under Staff Blog |
One of the ministries connected to St. Paul’s Anglican Church is the Pendrellis Building, an 87-unit residence providing subsidized housing for seniors, built in 1973. Right next door to the church, on Pendrell Street, the building is owned by the parish (under the rules of the diocese), but the operations were handed over to the Pendrellis Society, a non-profit society incorporated under the British Columbia Society Act. The members of the board of the Prendrellis Society include the wardens and the rector of the parish (ex officio) and up to three other members voted in by the rector and wardens each year. Right at the beginning, the Pendrellis Society hired a building management company to deal with daily operations.
Recently, the Society started a major interior renovation campaign of the Pendrellis building. There will be a new lounge, elevator upgrades, and, most importantly, the suites will be updated. Watch this space for the announcement of an Open House in the Spring. On December 20 of this year, however, the Pendrellis Society will host a Christmas and Inauguration Party for the residents of the Pendrellis.
If you would like to know more, please feel free to speak to the members of the Pendrellis Board. Board members for 2008 are the Rev. Markus Dünzkofer, Richard VanDelft, Rose Desrochers, Donna Wolfe, Steve Kershaw, and Wade Richards.
Posted by Priest on under Sermons |
Yearning.
Watching.
Aching.
Waiting.
Longing.
Craving.
Searching.
Expecting.
It is Advent again.
It is Advent again, the season that yearns and watches and aches and waits and longs and craves. It is supposedly a season in which we remember a mother who is pregnant with a child. Mary is watching, yearning, waiting, longing for this pregnancy to be over, to see it finished, to find what she is looking for all those long nine months.
I know you are getting tired of my saying this, but: Advent is my favourite season. Yet, for me Advent means more than just the pure remembrance of a pregnancy some 2000 years ago. For me, Advent is even more than the remembrance of a woman who is pregnant with the Hope of the World.
Advent has a different meaning for me. It is my favourite season, because I believe that Advent is the season that best describes the experience of our lives. Advent describes a journey on a road that is new, untraveled. Advent gives a name to my life as I search for meaning, as I try to make sense of the journey, as I yearn for understanding, as I long to find what is important, profound, and meaningful. I am searching, yet, I know I still haven’t found what I am looking for. I still crave for definite answers, solutions to all problems, and final certainty about the future.
It is Advent and, just like Mary who knows something is happening to her, something living is growing under her heart, so I know that my life is not empty, not still, not silent. Something is growing, something is forming. Yet, just like Mary, I am on the way, on the way to Bethlehem, and just like Mary, I still haven’t found what I am looking for.
It is Advent.
A few days ago, I was going through my music collection in my office to find some nice Advent music. Unexpectedly, I came across a CD I hadn’t listened to in years. It is not particular religious, but I think it is profoundly spiritual. One song especially sums up my understanding of Advent and, in a way, my understanding of life.
Some of you might guess what it is. Some of you might be surprised. It is new music, but already more than 15 years old. And even if you struggle with its style, I want to ask you to listen carefully to the words, because they have depth and talk about our experience of Advent, our experience of life. Let me play it for you.
U2 plays “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”
I’ve climbed the highest mountains. I’ve run through the fields only to be with you. I have run, I have crawled. I have scaled these city walls only to be with you. But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.[1]
As I move forward with my life, as my career advances, as my relationships develop, I have seen the ups and downs of life. Not only have I seen them. I have been there. The time when I was laid off. The time when I was diagnosed with life-altering disease. The time I was oppressed, because of who or what I am. The times when what was going on in the world, in our country, or in my family scared, confused, and frightened me. But also the times I won the award, achieved the highest rating, was patted on the back by everybody. The time a child was born in our midst. The time I was able to conquer the world. I have been there.
But I still haven’t found what I am looking for.
I have kissed honey lips, felt the healing finger tips. It burned like fire, this burning desire. I have spoken with the tongue of angels. I have held the hand of a devil. It was warm in the night. I was cold as a stone. But I still haven’t found what I am looking for.[2]
I have experienced the ambivalence of life and human love. The times love embraced me lying awake enwrapped with bliss, hoping it would never end. The times fires of torment licked at my heart, because I was rejected, was pushed away, was ignored by a lover, a partner, a family member, a friend, or a stranger. I have seen and felt how cold the darkness can be, even if it looks bright at first, even if it was a sudden rush of warmth that attracted me, only to discover that the devils of darkness drain me of life and love. I have felt the sweetness of a kiss on my lips: the sweetness of being kissed by life, by success, or by the one I love.
But I still haven’t found what I am looking for.
I believe in the Kingdom Come. Then all the colours will bleed into one. But yes, I’m still running. You broke the bonds. And you loosened the chains, you carried the cross and all my shame. You know I believe it. But I still haven’t found what I am looking for.[3]
I have embraced the faith of my mothers and fathers. I have read the scriptures, I have sung the songs, prayed the prayers, shared in the sacred meals and rituals, opened my heart to the fullness of the Spirit. I know where we are coming from, I know what and who it is we celebrate. I know about our roots, our story, our tradition. But I still haven’t found what I am looking for. But I still haven’t found what I am looking for.
I am still wandering. I am still wondering. Yearning. Watching. Aching. Waiting. Longing. Craving. Searching. Expecting.
Craving for a final answer. Searching for the final answer. Just like Isaiah. “What shall I cry?” We heard it read earlier. And I want to scream it, not in anger, but to give voice to the cravings of my heart, the aching of my soul, and the longings of my spirit.
“What shall I cry?” that I would find what I am looking for!
But I still haven’t found what I am looking for.
Advent is the season that best describes who we are.
We have wandered for lifetimes, but we have not yet arrived. We have been on the journey, but the goal is not close. We have traveled on the road, but the way ahead is long. We have started, but have not finished. We are on our way to Bethlehem, carrying something living, something divine under our heart, but we have no clue what awaits us in the City of David. We still haven’t found what we are looking for.
And we have two options:
The first option is easy, at least so it seems: We might just give in to the aching and frustration and stop wandering, giving up on the promise,forgetting where we have come from,killing the living, divine spark under our heart, looking for the first shallow light that might seem to lead us out of the darkness by giving easy answers and easy comfort, proclaiming that there is no God and that we are the masters and mistresses of our own life.
No hope. No love. No life. Only reality as we see it.
Yes, it might be a warmth at first, but, just like U2 sings, we will discover that, if this is our option, we will become cold as a stone.
The second option is harder, painfully risky, and not so easy to swallow. The second option is to stay on the journey, and to trust that while we still haven’t found what we are looking for, something is already happening in our lives, in our souls. Yes, it is hard to stay in the darkness and embrace the journey. Yet, this is the option full of hope and promise. Full of a hope nurtured by the belief that the divine spark in us, in the world, and beyond this world, can never be killed, not by any darkness, by any denial, or by the coldness of reality.
But, beware. This is not a promise that wants to put things off to the life-hereafter. I strongly believe that focusing solely on the promise of the kingdom-come is a folly and should not be taught in the church. Our hope is not founded on having a better live in heaven, while at the same time belittling or disregarding our life as we know it, not respecting that we indeed haven’t found what we are looking for. This, too, is a false hope.
Rather, the second option is this: To honour our journey and to find healing in it. To stay in the darkness, but to know the darkness cannot overcome the light that shines with love and peace, with justice and hope. And to acknowledge that we still haven’t found what we are looking for and that in looking we will be made whole.
The second option is this: As we yearn with the prophets of old, who so desperately looked for the Messiah, we discover the awesomeness of God’s deeds, the wonder of God’s healing, and the mystery of God’s love in what we have, what we do, and in what we are. As we yearn with Mary for her child to be born, we know that what grows under her heart, is life-giving, loving, and never-ending – and can grow under our hearts, too.
The second option is this: To follow Jesus and not be distracted from what is important, both in the journey as we walk it here and now, and in the way that lies ahead. God embraces our longing and thus empowers us to keep on walking the journey the God has laid out for us.
The second option is this: To live our lives as a lifelong Advent: Yearning. Watching. Aching. Waiting. Longing. Craving. Searching. Expecting. Knowing that therein lies life, life-eternal and life-abundant.
Have a holy Advent.
Today.
For the next few weeks.
And for the rest of our lives.
[1]“I still haven’t found what I am looking for” sung by U2
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on December 7, 2008.]
