Up-coming Events at MCC Windsor

We have a lot going on at MCC Windsor!

Saturday, May 26, 10 am - 4 pm Craft Show
1680 Dougall Ave, Windsor 
Come check out the local crafts and products available: jewelry, stained glass, cosmetics, jellies and jams and much more! MCC Windsor will also have our cafe open for lunch!

Sunday, May 27, 1:30 pm Pentecost Celebration
1680 Dougall Ave, Windsor
It's Pentecost Sunday! Join us as we celebrate the birthday of the Christian Church with the celebration of a baptism! Wear red, orange, yellow, gold--the colours of fire as remember the tongues of flame that visited the early Christians on the first Pentecost. Deacon Jason Beaudin will be bringing God's message today.

Sunday, June 3, 1:30 pm Trinity Sunday/Pride month kickoff
1680 Dougall Ave, Windsor
Windsor celebrates Pride in August, but in many places, June is Pride Month! We will be remembering Pride Month as well as Trinity Sunday today, when Deacon John Shellhorn brings the message of God.

Saturday, June 9, 10 am - 3 pm Yard Sale!

Anderson Brothers Funeral Home
Ouellette Ave.

Every year, Anderson Brothers opens their parking lot for a community yard sale for community groups. MCC Windsor will have a bake sale table--pound cake, cookies, all kinds of goodies. Come by and stock up!

We have begun planning several important dates coming up--Windsor Pride in August, our Homecoming Celebration in September, and our 25th Anniversary in January! We need your help--planning, set up, decoration, and many other tasks. To be a part of this exciting time in MCC Windsor's history, contact Rev. Martha at pastor@mccwindsor.org.

"What is to Prevent Me? Nothing." MCC Windsor, May 6, 2012 (Easter 5B) Rev. Martha Daniels

Acts 8:26-40

Then an angel of God said to Philip, “Get up and go toward the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.” (This is a wilderness road.) So Philip got up and went. Now there was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury. He had come to Jerusalem to worship and was returning home; seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah. Then the Spirit said to Philip, “Go over to this chariot and join it.” So Philip ran up to it and heard him reading the prophet Isaiah. He asked, “Do you understand what you are reading?” The eunuch replied, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip to get in and sit beside him. Now the passage of the scripture that he was reading was this: “Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb silent before its shearer, so he does not open his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth.” The eunuch asked Philip, “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” Then Philip began to speak, and starting with this scripture, he proclaimed to him the good news about Jesus. As they were going along the road, they came to some water; and the eunuch said, “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” He commanded the chariot to stop, and both of them, Philip and the eunuch, went down into the water, and Philip baptized him. When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of God snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing. But Philip found himself at Azotus, and as he was passing through the region, he proclaimed the good news to all the towns until he came to Caesarea.

John 15:1-8

”I am the true vine, and God is the vinegrower, who removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit God prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. God is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.”

***

Will you pray with me? Eternal God, bless us with wisdom and understanding; remind us that nothing prevents us from knowing your love except our own fears and doubts. Give us grace to recognise our roots in you, the vine of truth. May we drink deep of the cup of your love, in this hour and in every hour to come . Amen.

It is ironic that this reading from Acts is the prescribed lectionary reading for today. The US United Methodist Church, the largest Protestant denomination in the US, and the denomination in which I grew up, was trained, and hoped to be ordained, but was forced to leave—last week at their Annual Conference of churches from around the world voted to retain language in their Book of Discipline which states that “the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching and doctrine.” This breaks my heart. There is so much good in this denomination, so many friends and cherished colleagues and teachers and mentors; and yet the denomination is mired in the past. It must also be pointed out that most of the votes to retain that language came from non-US clergy, the majority of them from the continent of Africa—the struggle again homophobia continues there, against daunting odds. And there’s another irony, that the reading today is about an Ethiopian eunuch.

Indeed--here in the book of Acts in the New Testament of the Bible we share with the United Methodists—with all Christians—is a eunuch, a Gentile—that is, non-Jewish—eunuch at that, asking to be baptised by the Apostle Philip. This is pretty astonishing for several reasons. First of all, in the Hebrew Bible, the Original Testament, in the book of Deuteronomy, there is an emphasis on perfection—only animals without blemishes are to be sacrificed, and only men without bodily blemishes are to serve God or to enter the inmost part of the Temple. Therefore, eunuchs—males who have no testicles—are considered ineligible to be part of Temple worship. In a society that emphasized the pre-eminence of masculinity and paternity and the importance of descendents, a male who did not or could not reproduce was seen as flawed. So this eunuch—who, by the way, had probably been operated on as a child, in order that he might better serve royalty, because he would not have the temptation to promote his children—specifically sons—but would do what was best for the ruler. So he was seen as flawed by traditional Jews. And then he was Ethiopian—therefore, not descended from one of the tribes of Israel, therefore not seen as truly Jewish, no matter how much or how well he read the law and the prophets. A double outsider, then.

But—an educated and probably wealthy outsider. He could read—which was rare for anyone at that time—and by the way, it wasn’t until the Middle Ages that people began reading silently to themselves, that’s why Philip can hear him reading. And he had a chariot and driver, and the leisure time to make a long journey from Ethiopia to Jerusalem.

He’s reading the book of Isaiah, a passage from one of the Songs of the Suffering Servant, as those sections of Isaiah are known, which Christians have always applied to Jesus. But I think here the eunuch could have seen this as applying to himself as well—something had been done to him which prevented him from worshipping God as he felt called to do. He had just come from Jerusalem, from the temple, where it must have come home to him in a very immediate way that he was not welcome there as a worshipper—a foreign eunuch.

And then Philip comes along and strikes up a conversation, a literary, scriptural conversation. And in that conversation, Philip shares with him the Good News about Jesus, who did not bar anyone from coming to him—social outcasts, the poor, the sick, the wealthy, children…anyone who sought Jesus was welcomed.

I can almost see it. The eunuch, who had felt he was not wanted by this faith community to which he was drawn, suddenly sees there might be a place for him after all. But he’s been hurt before, and so he asks tentatively, “What is to prevent me from being baptised?”

And Philip says, “Nothing at all.”

And together they go into the water.

Let’s look at Philip for a moment. He’s clearly a good evangelist—he knows how to meet someone where they are, how to speak to their need, to show them the way out of frustration and despair—or simply out of that sense of being left out, unwanted, unknown. Philip sees the Ethiopian man as he is—not as a foreigner, not as a eunuch, not as an outsider—but as another human being, on a quest for truth and a new life. And Philip gives him that hope, that new life. He sets no restrictions on him—no classes to take, no special experience of the Holy Spirit, no need for follow-up. The man asks, Philip gives. How gracious, in the original meaning of the word—gift-giving, generous—Philip is!

Philip took it seriously, that command of Jesus to proclaim the gospel to all nations. He spoke to the eunuch “where he was;” he recognised that this man knew something of God already, and so Philip started from where the other man was, and shared the Good News.  It changed him—it had to made a difference to Philip, too, that the man from Ethiopia understood what Philip was teaching him and wanted to commit his life to Christ, in spite of the fact that he was not Jewish, was seen as an outsider. It is in sharing our faith, our trust in God, that our faith is strengthened—in sharing God’s love, our sense of that love is expanded and made more powerful. Philip was changed as much as the man he baptised. For both of them, the experience marked a change in their lives of faith.

Philip has received love and grace from the vine of which he is a branch, and he passes it on to the one he meets. Like Philip, we Christians aren’t the vines—we are the branches. We are rooted in Christ, our vine.

This week we are all about transgressing boundaries—of insider and outsider, of law and spirit, of grace, of hope, even of gender. Like a vine that has grown over and outside of a garden wall, refusing to be contained, spreading riotously through its branches, bearing its fruit inside and outside those boundaries, so is Christ and Christ’s love. Refusing to be limited by death, Christ rose; refusing to be limited by space or time, Christ’s followers have spread over all the earth, passing on the message of love and forgiveness for all, for freedom from death, for Christ’s companionship and grace through suffering and loneliness. Refusing to be bound by a limited understanding of God’s grace, Philip baptises and brings into God’s house the Ethiopian eunuch.

When we talk about God’s boundless love, this, my friends is what we mean. Rooted in the vine of God’s care for all creation, we, the branches, spread over all the earth, beyond all bounds, to share the Good News of God’s love for all that God created and called good. We are changed as we understand how fully God loves all people, all creatures. It widens our hearts. Christianity is not a solitary religion; it is lived and believed as part of a community. We believe, we do. We.

When we begin drawing circles about who God loves—not this person, not that person, not that group—we limit God, we deny God’s love for all that God created. Over the centuries, the Christian church has realised this—the circles have been made wider and more open. At first, the church was a sect within Judaism; then it became its own faith tradition, but open mainly to free men; then to all humans to be members, but still, only legitimate adult males could be leaders and they had to be unmarried. Then the church changed again—opening the circle—and married men and those whose parents were not married could lead. Then women became ordained leaders, and men of all races and ethnicities. Now we stand at the threshold of the last widening of that circle—inclusion of sexual and gender minorities. You know, the church could have saced a lot of time and anguish and pain if they had simply looked at this first recorded example of evangelism—to a person who was part of a gender minority, which did not hinder him from baptism, or leadership in the Ethiopian church. 

This opening, widening, branching, does not mean we lose sight of whose we are. We remain connected, attached, to Christ. The Greek word used in this reading, meno, from which we get our English word “remain,” translates as “stay,

live, dwell; last, endure, continue."  We remain part of Christ when we share that good news—we bear fruit as the branches do, but we cannot do it without the vital sap of the branch running through us.

With the love of Christ in our hearts, our veins, we reach out to anyone who needs to hear our good news of love and redemption and resurrection, we break barriers and boundaries down—whether of tradition, custom, fear, or ignorance—in order to spread our branches of God’s love around the world and beyond.

Sharing God’s love stretches us, makes us grow, until in time to come, we will break down all the barriers that oppose us. God’s love changes us every time we share it, every time we see again the power of God’s love to make all things new, to bring new life to that which was thought to be dead, inert, useless, or even evil.  For Christ is the vine, full of the sap of God’s love; we are the branches, bearing the fruit of that love in the testimony of our lives to those who do not believe that God can love them.

Go, and bear much fruit in the name of our true vine, Jesus the Christ.

What's happening at MCC Windsor!

Some upcoming events:

Wednesday, March 28, 2012 8 - 10 pm
Charity Bingo at breakaway Gaming Center (Crawford and Wyandotte). For every person who attends and signs up as affiliated with MCCW, we receive an additional $10. Come join us for some fun and maybe a win!

Saturday, March 31, 6 - 10 pm
Spring is in the Air Pasta Dinner!
Tickets available from any Board member or by calling the church office (519-977-6897)--$10 each for dinner (pasta, salad, roll, coffee/tea and dessert) and an evening of dancing! Silent auction, too!

Sunday, April 1 1:30 pm
Palm/Passion Sunday worship celebration
We will remember the joy of Jesus' procession into Jerusalem as well as the sorrow of the crucifixion through special Scripture readings, prayer and music. Palms provided!

We are teaming up with Bedford United Church, Lincoln Rd United Church, and Westminster United for our Holy Week services.

Thursday, April 5, 6 pm
Maundy/Holy Thursday service
Join us at 6 pm at Lincoln Rd. United Church (659 Lincoln Rd in Walkerville) for a "meagre meal" followed by a worship time reflecting on Jesus' last supper with his disciples.

Friday, April 6, 10 am
Good Friday service
Bedford United Church  (3340 Sandwich St. in Sandwich) will host our Good Friday service, featuring a dramatic reading of Jesus' Crucifixion. 

Sunday, April 8, 7:30 am
Easter Sunrise service
Westminster United and MCC Windsor together will host a sunrise service of celebration of Jesus' resurrection. We will meet at the church (1680 Dougall) and weather permitting, celebrate the service in Jackson Park. A continental breakfast will follow.

1:30 pm
Easter Evening service
We will celebrate the risen Christ through joyful worship and song!

If you have any firther questions, please call the church office at 519-977-6897 or email us at info@ mccwindsor dot org.

“God Speaks” Lent 5B (March 25, 2012), Rev. Martha Daniels

Jeremiah 31:31-34

The days are surely coming, says the Holy One, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their spouse, says the Holy One. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Holy One: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the Holy One,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Holy One; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.

John 12:20-33

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.

Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Human One to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.  Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Creator will honour.

“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Holy One, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.”

The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”

Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

***

“God Speaks”

Will you pray with me? Gracious God of all times and places, give us grace to hear and to listen; to recognise your voice. Give us the courage to hear your voice, in all the many ways you speak to us in our lives. In all your names, amen.

The clouds are gathering.  We are getting closer and closer to Good Friday—can’t you feel the wind picking up, the temperature dropping, as we come nearer to the day of dread—the day when Jesus is crucified. We aren’t there yet, not quite. But there are hints, foreshadowings. This talk of being lifted up, of Jesus feeling troubled in his soul...it doesn’t sound good. And then God speaks to Jesus. Some of the people who were there hear God’s voice; others hear thunder—which was the loudest noise humans had ever heard, remember, before gunpowder was invented, or known in the West.

What, I wonder, would you and I hear, if we had been there? Would we have heard God, or would we have looked for a coming storm?

The people near Jesus—including many of his disciples and apostles—heard only thunder.  

Do we hear God’s voice? Do we believe God still speaks? Do we believe God would speak to us? Three very important questions.

God doesn’t always speak in our language, our human language. Sometimes God speaks through events, or through other people, or the actions of other people. I thought I might have a call to ministry, but didn’t believe it, really, until, in a Bible study exercise we were asked to list the Christian qualities we saw in the others in the class. I was shocked to find that several of them saw me as an apostle, as a leader and teacher for God. I had heard God’s voice, but I didn’t really think God would speak to me, directly. Others, though, believed it—and they believed in my call. That group of 10 were my staunchest supporters, all the way through seminary and after.

Because we know God cares for us, we have to believe God is still speaking. If you love someone, if you care about them, you communicate with  them, you speak to them. One of the first signs of trouble in a relationship is that sense that the other person is not communicating with you. And by the way, that doesn’t have to be verbal communication—we all know people who have difficulty speaking their feelings aloud, but find other ways to communicate.

So we hear God, we believe God speaks—but do we believe God would speak to us? That was part of why I didn’t really believe that I had a call—I didn’t think God would speak to me. And to be honest, I didn’t really want to answer! I had just finished a master’s degree program, was settling into a comfortable life in suburbia, bought a house…I knew God’s call would change and disrupt all that. So sometimes we are afraid of what it means, and so we pretend we didn’t hear.

Sometimes we think we aren’t “good enough,” that we are not the sort of person God wants or needs. But God is perfectly aware of our shortcomings—and yet God still us, calls us in spite of them, sometimes because of them.

God speaks to us in other ways—God does not only speak to call people to special work. God speaks to us to comfort us, to share our pain when we are grieving or lost or afraid. And God speaks to us in joy and approval when we celebrate—a renewed relationship, healing, simple beauty. God celebrates with us. Sometimes I think we remember God only when we are afraid or sad, and forget to thank God and celebrate with God too.

God speaks—in the hug of a friend, in the rain, in the smile of a loving parent, in the embrace of a partner, in the bloom of a rose, in the rising music of an orchestra, in the blaze of a sunset. And God speaks in the silent places of our hearts, to us alone, in a language known only to God and ourselves; and God comforts and God challenges and God encourages and God celebrates.

God speaks.

God spoke to the Hebrews, promising them a covenant that would be written in their hearts. Some would say we have received the fulfillment of that covenant in Jesus, but I would challenge you to look at the signs of that fulfilled covenant that Jeremiah talks about, and tell me if you see them around us…do we all have the knowledge of God written on our hearts? No. We are still working towards that realm of God, aren’t we?

The realm of God…it’s not some pie-in-the-sky heaven where we all sit around plucking harps.  It’s a world where all people are treated with justice and love, where no one goes hungry, or is homeless, a world where there is no war, no hatred. The message of Jesus is that we can have that world—if we are prepared to work for it. It’s such a radical message—don’t hurt others, don’t judge others, make sure everyone has enough to eat and a place to sleep, that everyone is safe from attack and from hatred and mockery—such a radical message that people will tell you it can’t happen on earth, not with humans the way we are. But Jesus says, yes, we can. It won’t be easy, and some people will be so angry at the thought of such change—and the loss it would bring to them—that they will kill anyone who talks about such a place—the realm of God—as Jesus was killed, and Paul, and Peter, and Archbishop Oscar Romero, and Ghandi,  and so many others.

But we do fall short, don’t we? We judge other people, we hold grudges, we belittle others, we don’t care for the hungry or homeless as we should, we hurt other people. That doesn’t mean we should give up and say it can’t be done.

I once had friends who trained for a marathon—not something I was interested in doing, but I supported them! And it seemed so impossible to me—run for 26 miles, 42 kilometres. Running for anywhere from 4 to 6 hours did not seem like a good time to me! But they persevered, and ran the marathon in about 5 hours. They didn’t just get up one morning and do it, though. They worked at it—they ran every day, each day a little longer. They watched what they ate, staying away from heavy fats and too many carbs. They made mistakes too. One of them trained too hard, got shin splints and had to rest for a week. They got bored with running that far (this was before the days of Walkmans or iPods), and sometimes didn’t run the whole distance they had planned for that day. But they kept at it, in spite of their mistakes and the temptations to quit. And when the day of the race came, they ran the whole marathon, never having to walk or stop. And they did it together, pacing and challenging each other. They agreed to stay together the whole way, and they did. The next year one of them tried it alone—and his time was worse because he pushed too hard and had to stop because of leg cramps. His time was worse the second year.

When we listen to God speaking to us, we’re in it for the whole marathon—we have to work at bringing about God’s realm. We don’t do it alone—we have our sisters and brothers in God to help us, to challenge us and to pace us, to keep us from burning out as we work together towards making God’s realm real. It seems impossible, even against human nature—but we remember that with God, all things are possible.

Sometimes life feels like a marathon—so many different demands on us, of family and work and our own needs, so much to do and no time to rest—that we have to remember we are not doing it alone, and we don’t have to do everything at once. As long as we keep up a steady pace, don’t stop, we can keep going. With the company of our friends, our sisters and brothers in Christ, we can pace each other, we can challenge each other.  Keep listening for the voice of God, in pain and in joy, and know that you are never alone, as together we work to bring about God’s realm.

In all God’s names, amen.

Memories of the Heart; Christmas Eve 2011 reflection, MCC Windsor, Rev. Martha Daniels

Luke 2:8-20
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of God stood before them, and the glory of God shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Holy One. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom God favours!” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which God has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

“Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are times of memory, of remembering, of pondering those things in our hearts. It’s a bittersweet time, when we remember and miss members of our family and friends who are no longer part of our celebrations through death, divorce, a move—the inevitable changes of life.  And yet those memories sustain us; it is through those memories that we truly keep those people, places, times in our lives. Some of our memories are sad or angry, coloured by pain or betrayal; we choose to let go of the painful memories, to free ourselves of that grief. We don’t lose the memories, but we lose the pain. By remembering the times and people and places no longer in our lives, we help keep them alive.

When “the last surviving” person who participated in an historic event dies, it is news because we no longer have a living memory on earth of that event—the last survivor of the American Civil War, for example, or of the Shackleton expedition, or—someday—the last member of the Beatles, or the last WWII soldier.

There’s something vital about memory, and so many things can provoke it.  The other day I was browsing a gift shop, picked up a lavender sachet—and was instantly in my grandmother’s arms. She loved lavender. The sight of a certain Christmas cookie my family makes brings me back to the family kitchen, learning to bake those cookies—the sounds of the record player—that’s a forerunner to the CD player and MP3 player, to you young ones—my sisters, the tree, our dog—all come back very vividly.

I think one of the most interesting links for memory is between music and words in song. If I am trying to remember the words to a song, the easiest way is to sing it. There is a connection, a neurological connection, in our brain, between music and words. They are intimately connected and when you learn one in association with the other, it can be very difficult to disconnect them. I first learned the words in the passage John read as part of Handel’s Messiah—and now when I read them, I hear that stirring music in my head—and it is difficult for me to not sing them!

Memory is at the heart of all we do in worship. We remember in an individual sense—the Prayer Jesus Taught Us—the Lord’s Prayer—the creeds, many of the hymns. But we also remember in a larger sense—as a congregation, a community—and we also remember as a church. We remember. The Hebrew tradition is full of acts of memory—the histories, the retelling of the exodus story every year at Passover, the reminder to “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Paul tells his readers to remember all that they have learned.  At the Last Supper, Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

“And Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”

These memories give shape and purpose to our lives—we remember, and so we name children after family and friends who have died; we tell stories of Great-Aunt Doris, we hold All Saints services, AIDS memorial services, we walk in the Relay for Life, we keep the Sabbath day, we sing Christmas carols, we take bread and we remember.

Remember this Christmas season—remember what you have heard tonight—how Mary and Joseph travelled to a crowded city, managed to find a sheltered place for Mary to give birth, and were welcomed by the locals, the shepherds, who listened to the angels and remembered what they were told; remember the joy and hope, remember.  Remember what we do tonight—light candles to drive away darkness, sing songs of promises fulfilled, share in the presence of those we love and those we do not even know, share the feast of God at God’s own table. Treasure all these things, and keep them in your hearts. In all God’s names, amen.

"Not What You Expected" Message, December 18, 2011 (Advent 4A), Rev. Martha Daniels

Luke 1:26-38

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! God is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a child, whom you will name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Child of the Most High, and  God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his realm there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Child of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

 

Will you pray with me? Gracious God of good surprises, give us wisdom to see your gifts in all things, even when we don’t believe you could possibly be a part of our lives, when what has happened seems so far from what you would want or desire for our lives. Open our eyes and hearts to your grace, not only in the little happenings of our lives, but in your greatest gift to us, your Child, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

 Travelling! We’ve been on a journey the last few weeks, and now we are at our destination. We have arrived!  But is what we were looking for? Is it what we thought we wanted?

We are going into a difficult time of year for me—winter. I’ve never been officially diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I think I might have a touch of it. Some of the most difficult experiences of my life have happened in the January – March timeframe, too, and so those months bring that pain and struggle back to mind. In February, especially, I find myself taking “cyber-vacations” to lush tropical islands by surfing all those hotel and B&B websites, fantasizing about being on those beaches, relaxing beside those pools, walking in those gorgeous gardens, enjoying the luscious meals they describe, experiencing the night life… But of course I have to wonder—is it really that good? Or are those descriptions like real-estate listings, where “cozy and intimate” means, “too small for more than one person?” Or “ideal for handyman” means “tear it down and start over?” Or “expansive lawns” means “get a goat and a couple of sheep to mow the grass?” I’ve read accounts of people who had that experience—the “full breakfast every day,” meant cold cereal and toast, lukewarm coffee and watery orange juice; where the rooms looked good in the pictures only because they were carefully prepped, and you couldn’t smell the musty odour from the closet. When I lived on the East Coast, we knew the code for beach hotels—“beach front” meant across the street from the beach, “beach views” meant that if you craned your neck around the balcony you could catch a glimpse of the beach,” only “on the beach” really meant that your windows looked out on the beach. But if you didn’t know the code, you could be sadly disappointed—you didn’t get what you expected.

On the other hand, there’s the other experience as well—when you go somewhere not expecting much and are surprised. A few years ago I was looking for a place to go on a retreat by myself. I didn’t want anything organised or planned—I had my own reading and praying and thinking to do, and I didn’t need guidance on it. I just wanted a quiet place in the country where I could stay, where I could feel God’s presence, where I could leave behind my responsibilities and simply be open to God’s moving in my life. I found several places but most of them were places where you had to meet with a spiritual director to plan even a solo retreat, or they were too close to a city or too expensive or too primitive or too far away…none were quite what I wanted. But then I found a location that I thought would do. Absolutely nothing was specifically organized for people staying there—yoga or art classes and prayer services were sometimes offered in the evenings, but each person was free to go or not as they wished. Everyone had their own cottage, and did their own cooking, so you never had to deal with another person if you didn’t want to. On the other hand…the cottages looked a little close together, and then I also wondered about how I would fill up all the time, and it was still three hours away, but it seemed the best choice. It was not what I expected. Simple cottages the size of a bachelor apartment, set in the woods around a field and arranged so that you didn’t see most of the other cottages, gardens and woods and pathways to walk and explore, a good library at the main building, quiet, and solitude that was respected. It was everything that I wanted and needed, but it was not what I expected.

Mary couldn’t have known what to expect. I mean, simply the fact of an angel showing up must have been confusing—to start with, how did she know it was an angel? We always think of angels as having wings and flowing hair, but certainly not all of them do—especially the ones we meet here on Earth. And then the news—you’re going to have a baby! I’m sure that Mary did expect to have children—it was just part of a woman’s life in those days, like going to school these days. But as she points out—she’s never been with a man. Notice she doesn’t say that she isn’t married—which was the human scandal, that she was having a baby out of wedlock, and her fiancé was not the father. She probably would have been forgiven if Joseph had been the father—a lapse but a forgivable and very common one. I’ve seen statistics that show that in the 1700s, perhaps 25% of women were pregnant at marriage, as shown by the fact that their first children were born less than eight months after they were married.  So it was not really a big deal to simply be pregnant when she was married—but Joseph was not the father.  That was the difficulty and potential scandal. But Mary’s more focused on the hows, though—how can she become pregnant?

And I think she must have been thinking—anyone would be—“how can this be good? God is asking me to do this, so it must be all right, but how in the world can this be a good thing?”

One of my favourite new Christmas songs—not a traditional carol—is Mary Did You Know? by Clay Aiken, most famously sung by Kathy Mattea. I think anyone who has parented—which is all of us—can identify with the lyrics—we hold a baby and wonder what she or he be like as an adult, how we can help to raise him or her to be a loving, kind human being. And we wonder if Mary knew what we know--this infant, this tiny child is God incarnate. The last line especially, can bring me to tears—“The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great, I Am.”

There’s been a lot of debate and discussion about whether Mary is degraded or lifted up in this—whether she is seen as a walking womb, so to speak, or as a person with a choice and influence in the situation. Some people will even say that Mary was, in effect, raped by God—that she had no choice because God is in a position of authority over her and she doesn’t have the ability to say no to God. I think that view is totally wrong for two reasons. One is that this is not about biology—if we try to see this as a physical, biological process, we are on the wrong road. Yes, it is literal in that a baby was born, but if we try to see this too literally and try to figure out ways and means, we lose the meaning. Quite without human means, God came to earth as a baby. How God did that is not something that be explained or even discussed in human terms, anymore than we can discuss how God created the earth in literal human terms. Secondly, Mary did have a choice. We don’t read it in the way the angel makes the announcement—Gabriel seems to assume a lot—but Mary is not afraid to challenge the angel. She is not prepared to assume that this can just happen—she accepts it. We always see this in the Bible—an angel tells someone what God wants them to do—Isaiah in the temple being told to speak truth to power, David called to be a ruler, Moses told to go set God’s people free—and they consent. Every one of them says, “Yes, I will do what God asks of me.” They had a choice. We don’t know what would have happened if they said no—that’s not our story—but God would have made another way.

My point here, though, is that Mary said yes—even though she didn’t quite know what it was all about, she trusted that God had a purpose and a reason for asking her. She knew the difficulties ahead of her if she said yes—but she did.

And the result was not what she expected! Over and over again, God surprised her. Joseph did not abandon her. Her baby grew up to be a teacher and healer, not the carpenter she expected; nor did he simply gather students around him as would be expected of a teacher. He didn’t overthrow the Romans, as she must have thought the Messiah would. Jesus wasn’t rescued from the cross by an army of angels. And he didn’t stay in the tomb, either. Over and over God surprises her and us.

God does what God does, and that often upsets human expectations and wants. It’s not what we expected—but like the vacation that is even better than you expected and planned for, God’s surprises always bring us to be more of who we are, nourish us in ways we didn’t know we needed, and draw us closer to God.

No one who was looking for the Messiah, who was hoping for God’s help, who struggled under Rome’s rule, who looked at Israel’s history, could have guessed that God would choose this way to come to earth. As another new Christmas carol says, “What a strange way to save the world.” It is not what anyone expected.

In this season of surprises, remember God’s greatest unexpected gift of all—that baby, laid in a manger, who had come to be God with us, Emmanuel.  The gift you need from God will be given to you—but it will not be what you expect. It will be more than you ever hoped for or dreamed of.

In the name of the God who journeys with us, amen.