<![CDATA[Grace United Church Napanee - Blog]]>Tue, 14 May 2024 20:18:53 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[April 17th, 2020]]>Fri, 17 Apr 2020 17:48:15 GMThttp://graceuc.ca/blog/april-17th-2020​Priscilla and Aquila and all the rest: A Reflection based on Romans 16:
At the end of Paul’s letter to the Romans, there is a section that I usually skim over rather quickly, assuming that there is not much there that is very interesting or important. It is a list of people whom Paul “greets,” and it goes like this: “Greet Priscilla and Aquila, my co-workers in Christ Jesus….”
This time, as I read over all these greetings, I was struck by how much it seems Paul didn’t want to leave out any name. He seems to want to make sure he includes everyone, so the list is rather long. He also points out unique characteristics of each of these people he names. There are many compliments and gratitudes that flow throughout this long list.
It is obvious that he has great affection for these people, and even though he cannot see them, or be near them for the time being, he has not forgotten them, and he continues to encourage them and strengthen them.
Not unlike our own situation these days. We are spending time away from one another, not by choice, but because it is necessary. We don’t get to be with one another, and if we see one another, we don’t get too close.
So, Paul has given us a model for how to encourage and strengthen one another even from a distance. I miss being together with you, my congregation, but I also am filled with gratitude for your faithfulness and the care you show for one another. Thank you for your consistent hard work on behalf of the church of Christ. Thank you for checking in with one another. Thank you for trying to keep all of us safe and healthy.
Thank you also for your prayers. I know that among our congregation, there are many dedicated pray-ers, and there are times when I am conscious of these prayers lifting my spirits when I am tempted to get bogged down. Thank you for your faithfulness.
Paul ends his letter to the Romans with these words: “Now to him who is able to establish you in accordance with my gospel, the message I proclaim about Jesus Christ… to the only wise God be glory forever through Jesus Christ, Amen.”
]]><![CDATA[Good Friday - I am not going to church]]>Fri, 10 Apr 2020 13:46:22 GMThttp://graceuc.ca/blog/good-friday-i-am-not-going-to-church​
​It’s Good Friday, about 8 in the morning, and I’m not getting ready to go to church.
This is the first Good Friday since I have been a minister that I have not been utterly focused on making sure the Good Friday worship service is the best, most meaningful it can be. Some years, I have planned a service that involved a lot of drama, with congregation members taking on the roles of soldiers or disciples or Caiaphas or any of the other people that are part of the passion story. In those years, prior to the service, I am very nervous, hoping that everyone remembers their parts. Those dramatic presentations can be really powerful. One year, the whole cast gathered on the sidewalk outside the church doors when it was finished, with tears streaming down their faces. Such is the impact of really immersing yourself in the injustice and agony of the crucifixion story.
 
This year, my Good Friday worship service is completed. I taped my part of the service on Tuesday morning, sent it off to be processed, received the finished project yesterday, and sent it back out into the world to be seen on youtube today. I am immensely grateful to my ministry colleagues for making this possible, and for tech help from certain members of my church. And for the magic of the internet, most of which is just a mystery to me. So, the worship service is out there, just not in the way it usually is.
 
Most years, once my responsibilities as worship leader for the Good Friday is completed, I spend the rest of the day in self-isolation. I may go for a walk in the woods if the weather is OK, or I may stay home. I spend time in contemplation of Christ and how his ancient story connects to our ‘today’ story.
 
This year, I’m not the only one self-isolating. The whole world is joining me in isolating.
One of the things that attracts me to the story of the suffering and death of Jesus is how real it all is. When I read through the gospel accounts, I think, “Yes, I can see how Peter denied even knowing Jesus – he was terrified he was going to be crucified too. Yes, I see how Pilate gets caught up in trying to figure out the politically expedient thing to do, in a dispute that held no interest for him. Yes, I can see how the crowds would love Jesus one day, and want him dead the next – public opinion is often fickle. Yes, the extreme brutality inflicted on Jesus is basically the same as the extreme brutality inflicted on people in many parts of our world today.” The story rings true to life in so many respects.
 
There are many parts of the Gospels that some people have trouble with, particularly the miracles of Jesus. Skeptics argue that these miracles could not possibly have happened the way they are described. You don’t have to argue any of that with the passion story – you can see similar things happening in our world all the time.
 
For example, on March 25, 2020, Carlota Salinas, a women’s human rights defender in Bolivar, Columbia, was murdered outside her home. A few hours before her painful murder, she was out collecting food for families as a means to ward off the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic. She was a mother of two young children and a teenager. According to KAIROS, the pandemic is magnifying violence against women, as armed actors take advantage of institutional and governmental fissures to target individuals and groups working for the most vulnerable. Carlota is one of at least seven social leaders who have been murdered in Colombia since measures to contain COVID-19 have been out in place.
 
Yes, injustice and violence are alive and well in our world, the same kind of injustice and violence that condemned a wise, peace-loving, story-telling teacher to death 2,000 years ago.
This year, I sit at my kitchen table and watch a light snow falling. The little finches are busy at the bird feeder. My cat is trying to figure out how to catch one of those finches which are so close, just the other side of a pane of glass. I am grateful for the safety of my home. I am grateful that there are dedicated and skilled workers out there trying to save lives. And I am grateful that Jesus showed us another way to live.
 




 
]]><![CDATA[March 28 2020 - thinking about Easter]]>Sat, 28 Mar 2020 13:13:22 GMThttp://graceuc.ca/blog/march-28-2020-thinking-about-easterMarch 28, 2020 – I’ve been thinking about Easter
 I’ve been thinking about Easter. At this point, it looks like we will not be able to gather for worship on Easter Sunday this year. The COVID-19 pandemic will still be with us by then, I fear.
 It distresses me to think that we won't be in the church sanctuary hearing the story of Jesus' resurrection. We won't be eating and drinking the Holy Meal. We won't be singing, "Jesus Christ is risen today, a-a-a-leluia!"
 Easter is the most important story of the Christian faith, and it will supremely weird for me not to be in the church with the congregation to celebrate.
 So, I have been pondering what we can do to mark the date in other ways. I will let you know what ideas I have when we get closer to the date for Easter, but for now, here are some thoughts.
 We in the northern hemisphere have the good fortune to celebrate Easter at the same time as spring is happening. It becomes easier to believe in resurrection when all around us the world is coming back to life. Every small green shoot pushing through the winter-weary soil is a small resurrection. Every field that turns from drab grey to shimmering lime green becomes another small resurrection. Every flower that bursts into bloom is another.
 So, resurrection will happen, regardless of what we are doing. The ancient story re-told for us through the gospels will continue to resonate through the world. Even in this time when we are burrowing down in our individual homes, we can be assured that will be emerge into the sunlight at some point.
 I also want to share with you a beautiful poem written by Thom Shuman.
 if
it should happen
(and it well could)
i will miss the lilies,
the brass, the music,
the voices joined in swelling song;
i will miss the looks
on people's faces, and
the joy that fills the room;
i will miss giving
(once more into the fray, dear friends)
my faulty analysis
of an incomprehensible mystery . . .
but we are not
the people of the lily,
the people of brass instruments,
the people of grand music,
the people of easter finery;
we are
the people of the empty tomb,
the people who find empty clothes on a shelf,
the people who find our fears emptied out
on the ground by the hands of grace,
who brought our Friend
the bright sunlight of resurrection.
 if
it should happen
(and it well could)
maybe this year
we will reclaim the empty tomb
as that symbol missing from our faith,
joining our Friend, our Brother,
our Guide, our Healer
in filling the emptiness of the world
with grace, with hope,
with joy, with wonder,
with life

the people we are called to be

(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman
 This poem invites us to "reclaim the empty tomb," to "fill the emptiness of the world with grace, with hope, with joy, with wonder, with life." That is an invitation that does not require any particular date on the calendar. We just get to do it. In faith, we get to demonstrate the difference Easter can make.

]]><![CDATA[First note during Covid-19]]>Fri, 27 Mar 2020 19:04:22 GMThttp://graceuc.ca/blog/first-note-during-covid-19Every morning, the first thing I do when I get up, is go outside with Sophie, my little ginger dog.  While Sophie does her thing, I take stock of the day.  This morning, the backyard was crisscrossed with miles of rabbit tracks, clearly visible in the dusting of snow that fell yesterday. A cardinal was singing up a storm.  Robins were chirping to each other across the yard.  A nut hatch flew in and landed on the dead branch of the mountain ash tree, took a few pokes at the tree, and flew away again.  A small flock of geese glided by just above the tree tops, coming in for a landing headed for last year's corn field behind my house.  
 
The world in my backyard goes on as usual; spring is slowly emerging.  All is as it should be.  My backyard is not affected by covid 19 at all.  There is a wonderful peace in the knowledge that the natural world continues to do what it always does.
 
Psalm 104 says this, in part:
  Bless the Lord, O my soul.  O Lord my God, you are very great.  
  You are clothed with honor and majesty, wrapped in light as with a garment.
   By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation;
   they sing among the branches.
  From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
 the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work. 
Amen.                
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