Welcome
Good morning and welcome to a Home Street Mennonite Church format, that none of us would have asked for or imagined. While we hold title to the land on which we gather, we do so aware that it is not ours, but Gods. And in such an awareness we wish to acknowledge all the peoples, histories, and stories that have passed through this place. From the Anishinaabe, Anishiniwak, Iniwak, Dakota, and Denes people who make up Treaty 1 territory and to the Metis Nation, all who have helped make our collective present and future possible. And finally to our Mennonite ancestors who arrived in this place from the 1870s onward, thus setting up the possibility for our being here in this place. We stand on a storied land, and wish to worship aware and attentive to God’s movements throughout these histories. Call to Worship An opportunity for curiosity and wonder exists. The tomb is empty, two men standby in dazzling apparel and ask us, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” Grief stricken, terrified and confused, do we remember what the Teacher said? “I will be delivered into the hands of corruption, be murdered and be delivered from death to life.” Do we catch ourselves, like the apostles, unbelieving and accusing others of spinning “an idle tale?” As we walk down Emmaus Road what might we see, discover, find comfort in and behold? Prayer Divine Creator, open our hearts to see the majesty of your presence among us this morning. Amen. Gathering song He come to us as one unknown HWB #498 Scripture reading ~ Luke 24:13-35 This is God’s word to the people. Thanks be to God. Children’s feature We are grateful to Bryan Moyer Suderman (a former Home Street’er!) for sharing this song. Though it’s was a few years ago, Bryan wrote the song especially for today’s bible story. Affirmation of Faith We are not alone, we live in God’s world. We believe in God: who has created and is creating, who has come in Jesus, the Word made flesh, to reconcile and make new, who works in us and others by the Spirit. We trust in God. We are called to be the Church: to celebrate God’s presence, to live with respect in Creation, to love and serve others, to seek justice and resist evil, to proclaim Jesus, crucified and risen, our judge and our hope. In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. We are not alone. Thanks be to God. Offering (e.e. Cummings) i thank You God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes (i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth day of life and love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth) how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any-lifted from the no of all nothing-human merely being doubt unimaginable You? (now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened) Please accept our humble offerings. Amen As you listen to this hymn medley shared by Dan Dyck, you are invited to prepare a cheque or send an e-transfer to donate@hsmc.ca. We understand that many of us are experiencing reduced income during this pandemic time, and only ask that you give as you are able.
Meditation Phil Campbell-Enns On Easter Sunday I was the one who prepared the worship leader parts for our service. I don’t know how many of you noticed, but at the end of that service I got way ahead of myself. I was so taken by the words of poet Malcolm Guite that I shared his poem called “Ascension” as the benediction. It is a beautiful poem that resonates with the enthusiasm of Easter. But technically, as far as the church calendar is concerned, I was 40 days ahead of where I should have been. In my own defense, it’s not just me that messes with the order of things in our worship life. Because this morning the lectionary reading from the Gospel of Luke takes us in the opposite direction, and has us backtracking three whole weeks, right back to Easter day. Luke 24 starts on “the first day of the week, at early dawn.” We didn’t read that part of the chapter this morning. But it’s the account of the faithful women arriving at the tomb, finding it empty, then reporting back to the disciples, who treat their news with total disregard. Peter does eventually decide to visit the tomb and confirm the women’s report. But then he goes home without a word to anyone. That’s as far as Luke’s first Easter story gets. It’s kind of weird, and kind of a let-down. It’s like the disciples are still in shock, and all that registers are the facts. Jesus was awesome. Then he died. And even though his body can’t be found in the tomb, they don’t have the capacity to figure out where it is. Their grief is deep, and they simply don’t have it in them to see if there is more to the story. With the hopefulness of faith, the women even try to link the empty tomb to words they remember Jesus speaking. But their wisdom and intuition strike the male disciples as “an idle tale.” So deep is their discouragement that even hopeful words only fall on deaf ears. As Luke shares this first Easter vignette, there are no trumpets blasting, and certainly no congregation singing “up from the grave He arose.” According to Luke, it’s kind of like Easter begins with a question mark. That’s where today’s scripture picks it up, as Luke continues with a second Easter story from just a few hours later . . . “Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened . . .” Different from the 11 apostles who dismissed the news of an empty tomb, Cleopas and his friend seem to have the wherewithal to at least mull over the report from the women. Where the 11 who were closest to Jesus were totally immersed in their grief, Luke tells us these two disciples from Jesus’ wider circle were in a headspace that allowed them to consider the “things that had happened.” So that’s what they were up to when the incognito Jesus joined them on their two hour walk home from Jerusalem. Apparently . . . that’s also where the lectionary assumes many of us are at about 3 weeks after Easter – mostly dazed, a little bit confused, still recovering from the shock and grief of Good Friday, but possessing just enough capacity to try and make sense “of the things that had happened.” While it would be a stretch to compare the circumstances of the first Easter with the circumstances we find ourselves in right now, it is not a stretch to compare the fog, or confusion, or our limited capacity to make sense of what’s going on. In that way, the timing of this story in our worship life is a pure gift as it moves us from grief and despair to eternal optimism. And that’s where this meditation is going to end up. But if we try to get there too soon, we’ll miss some of the lessons in the story. As one commentator warned, we can’t be in too much of a rush. We can’t be an Easter people unless we’re first willing to be a Good Friday people. We can’t celebrate and live in the power of the resurrection without first acknowledging that suffering, and pain, and even the loss of hope are also part of life. It was two other commentators who drew my attention to that loss of hope as it shows up in verse 21 of today’s story. As Cleopas and friend are telling the unrecognizable Jesus of the death of their Messiah, they utter the heavy words, “but we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” We had hoped. When hope is spoken of in the past tense, as a thing of the past, you know the hole is deep. The story takes place around supper time on Easter day, but the emotions and the questions and the disillusionment of Good Friday are still fresh. Those things didn’t disappear in three days. Not on that first Easter. Not on this Easter. Between the strangeness and disorientation of the pandemic, and then this week’s tragedy in Nova Scotia, we are in many ways on the road to Emmaus. Like the first disciples, even though there is evidence that Christ is risen, we need extra encouragement to look for, and extra help to recognize the risen Christ. It’s at this point in the meditation that I get to tell you about the gift that I stumbled onto this week while prepping. On the website “Journey with Jesus” I read a brilliant meditation by Debie Thomas. I highly recommend it to you, and give her all the credit for the rest of this meditation. Like other commentators she keys in on how painful that loss of hope must have been, and still can be. But as a person of faith, she isn’t stuck in hopelessness. As she reflects on the Emmaus story Thomas says, “I am reminded that Jesus is not who I think he is, and not who I necessarily want him to be. Who is the would-be stranger on the broken road? How does he respond when all appears lost? What does he do for the weary and the defeated?” In response to those difficult questions, Thomas lifts out 4 things about the story that I think help to restore our hope in Jesus. For sake of time I’ve abbreviated her comments. The first thing Thomas notices is how quiet the resurrection is. “One would think that a God who suffers a torturous and wholly unjust death would come back with a vengeance, determined to shout his triumph from the rooftops, and prove his accusers and killers wrong. But Jesus does no such thing. Instead, on the evening of his greatest victory, the risen Christ . . . takes a leisurely walk on a quiet, out-of-the-way road. When he notices two of his followers walking ahead of him, he approaches them in a guise so gentle, so understated, and so mundane, they don’t recognize him.” “This is not,” Thomas admits, “what I always want from the resurrected Christ. We had hoped he’d be more dramatic. More convincing. More unmistakably divine. We had hoped he’d make post-Easter faith easier. Part of the disappointment we face on the Emmaus road is the disappointment of the quiet resurrection. The disappointment of God’s maddening subtlety and hiddenness. The disappointment of a Jesus who prefers the quiet, hidden encounter to the theatrics we expect and crave.” Thomas notes the disappointment. But I think it actually raises our hope of bumping into Jesus at some point. The second thing Thomas notices is how story heals. She says, “As soon as Jesus falls into step with the companions on the road, he invites them to tell their story . . . [so] they describe their devastation at his death. Their confusion, their loss, their uncertainty. They tell Jesus the whole story . . . and Jesus listens. He hears them out, allowing them the balm of articulation. And then — when they’re done — he tells the story back to them, and as he does so, the story changes . . . When Jesus tells the story, he restores both its context and its glory. He grounds the story in memory, in tradition, in history, in Scripture. He helps the travelers comprehend their place in a [story] that long precedes them, a [story] big enough to hold their disappointment without being defeated by it. When Jesus tells the story, the death of the Messiah finds its place in a sweeping, cosmic arc of redemption, hope, and divine love that spans the centuries. When Jesus tells the story, the hearts of his listeners burn.” The third thing Thomas notices in the Emmaus Road story is the freedom to leave. She says, “when the travelers reach Emmaus, Jesus gives them the option to continue on without him. In fact, he makes as if he’s leaving, placing them in a position where they have to be absolutely intentional and definitive about their desire regarding him.” Thomas continues . . . “I’m always surprised— and, I’ll admit, frustrated — by Jesus’s unwavering commitment to my freedom. He will not impose. He will not overpower. He will not coerce. He’ll make as if he’s moving on, giving me space, time, and freedom to decide what I really want. Do I desire to go deeper? Am I ready to get off the road of my failures and defeats? Am I willing to let the guest become my host? Do I really want to know who the stranger is? Do I dare to say ‘please stay.’ The last thing Thomas notices that restores hope is the smallness of things. “Once Jesus and his companions are seated around the table, Jesus takes, blesses, breaks, and gives bread. So small a thing, [but it] changes everything. It’s difficult to trust in the transformative power of small things. But the Emmaus story speaks to the power of the small and the commonplace to reveal the divine. God is present in the rhythms and rituals of our seemingly ordinary days. What does this mean for us right now? Thomas says, “It means God is in the text you send to the lonely neighbor you can’t visit during quarantine. God appears in the Zoom gathering, the online worship service, the phone call, the greeting card. It means Jesus is the stranger you see in the grocery aisle — both of you smiling beneath your masks. The sacred is in the conversation you have with your stir-crazy child, the technology you attempt to master so you can meet with loved ones. And the sacred is in the friends who challenge you to reframe the story of these days in light of God's inexplicable provision and love. If the Emmaus story tells us anything, it tells us that the risen Christ is not confined by the seeming smallness of our lives. Wherever and whenever we make room, Jesus comes. So very many things are different right now than we had hoped they’d be. And yet . . . the stranger who is the Savior still meets us, and our hope is revived. So keep walking. Keep telling the story. Attend to your burning heart. Honor the stranger, and invite them to stay. AMEN. Closing song Will you come and follow me Benediction Now that we know what we have - Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God – let’s not let it slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all - all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help. Go In Peace Participants in this morning’s service: Worship leader: Denise Pauls Meditation: Phil Campbell-Enns Photos: Phil Campbell-Enns Children's Story: Bryan Moyer Suderman Second Sunday of Easter April 19, 2020 Focus Statement That evening the disciples were behind closed doors because they were afraid... Jesus came and stood among them. He said, “Peace be with you.” John 20:19 Call to worship Behind closed doors, weary and alone, we wait. Come Jesus, stand among us. In locked rooms, anxious and afraid, we watch. Come Jesus, stand among us. In strange times, bewildered and confused, we wonder. Come Jesus, Appearance behind Locked Doors. Duccio di Buoninsegn, c. 1310. Public domain. stand among us. Come Jesus, speak your peace. Show us your hands and side. Breathe the Holy Spirit upon us. Come, Jesus, come. Prayer Risen Christ, Come through the closed doors of our homes, come into the locked rooms of our hearts, come into the bewildering spaces of these days, Speaking peace that only you can give, offering your wounded hands of love, breathing your Spirit of resurrection hope. Come, Jesus, stand among us. Amen. Song Jesus stand among us Blue 25 Affirmation of Faith During the Easter season, we lay aside our Sabbath Prayers of Confession and instead proclaim our Affirmations of Faith. Today we recite together The Apostles’ Creed, an affirmation of faith from the early church, as church leaders sought to find a statement of belief that could unite Christians in many places and cultures. It took centuries before The Apostles’ Creed emerged in its final form, and it is now widely used by many Christian denominations. While we may, today, choose to use more contemporary and inclusive language, these words speak of the church’s ancient and ongoing history and they remind us of the unity of the Christian church today. Please note that the word “catholic” below carries the meaning of “universal.” I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth; I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again; he ascended into heaven, he is seated at the right hand of the Father, and he will come again to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Christ appearing to the Apostles, Valeria Belli, c. 1540. National Gallergy of Art, open access Children’s feature: After Jesus died, the disciples must have felt lost and without hope. They had heard rumours of Jesus’ resurrection, but it was very hard to believe. They gathered together in a locked room, waiting for a sign of hope. Watch the video, Hope in the Dry Season, directed by Paul Plett, as Hope and her father wait together in a dry and desperate season. Then choose some activities from the Study Guide. There are instructions on how to make the sound of rain, questions to wonder about, directions for making a rain stick, and more. Song: That Easter morn STS 88 Scripture: John 20:19-31 This is God’s word to the people. Thanks be to God. Christ appears to his disciples, William Hatherell, 1925 National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Public domain. Message: “Peace be with you” Ken Warkentin In my short life I have experienced several significant world-shaping events. I was one year old when the birth control pill was introduced. That simple event shaped the role of women in our world that was simply not imagined by the majority of the population in 1959. Now I don’t want to be heard to suggest that women have achieved equality or parity with men because of the sexual revolution. We still have a lot of work to do but the introduction of the Pill has ushered in a time in which women have more agency over their bodies. I think that this is a significant world shaping event. In 1989 I watched in awe as the Berlin Wall began to be dismantled. That wall divided Berlin physically and divided the east from the west ideologically. The fall of the wall also began to reshape the way world governments aligned themselves. Populations had to reimagine many things from how we govern ourselves to who our enemies were. The end of that branch of the communist experiment has altered the ways in which our world is organized. In 2001 the destruction of the World Trade Center buildings shook North American culture and calcified a new enemy. The fears that our way of life and our economy could be so easily threatened by a strong ideology reframed our enemies as those who don’t believe in our “western” way of life. This event changed regulations around security and travel. It also changed our economic system. But perhaps most significantly it changed how we view people from the Middle East. Bill Clinton was elected president of the United States in 1992 and at that time there were about 50 websites. Can you guess where I got that information? Today there are hundreds of millions of sites and the internet has changed our world so that we can have a global shut down and still have students in school, still have worship services, still order groceries on line and still entertain ourselves. All of these events have shifted the way we understand our world. Now in 2020 we have a new global pivot point. The global pandemic might be the biggest world shaper in a very long time. The Corona virus that has halted the frenetic pace of our world like nothing before has had the capacity to do. This unseen enemy which threatens the lives of untold thousands and millions of people has altered our world so quickly it is almost unbelievable. Could you have imagined a global shut down as complete as this one last December as we were preparing for Christmas? Christmas of course is a world shaping event. At Christmas we celebrate God taking on human form. The other world shaper is Easter where we celebrate the power of new life rising from the tomb. And so we come this morning to a post resurrection story which I find helpful as I contemplate the changing world around me. It’s the one we read earlier in the Gospel of John in which Jesus encounters his closest friends in their hiding place. We are told they are in hiding because they are afraid of the religious authorities. Fear can provide a mask for a lot of other emotions. I wonder if they were also ashamed that they had abandoned Jesus and were afraid to admit that they had followed another Messiah wannabe. I wonder if they were also angry with Jesus because they had witnessed his power over death when he raised Lazarus from the grave just days earlier and yet he refused to use it to save himself. I wonder if they felt betrayed by Jesus for leading them on knowing he had this amazing power and still not employing it in a political realm. When you consider the complicated relationship between Jesus and his disciples you begin to realize that there was enough disappointment to be shared by everyone. So into this emotional turmoil the Risen One greets them with “Peace be with you” and not just once but twice and then again when his friend Thomas joins them. Jesus' greeting is a beautiful beginning to building and repairing relationships that transcend fear, betrayal, and anger. “Peace be with you” - these are not often the first words uttered when meeting someone who has wronged or betrayed us. A more natural response would be punishment in the form of aggression or judgment. Being a Mennonite practiced in pacifism, my aggression usually takes a passive form which is no less damaging to relationships. Many of us might say that Jesus had the right to punish his friends for their bad behavior. Many of us who have felt betrayed like to own the right to inflict hurt on those who have wronged us. Even if we don’t act on that impulse it makes us feel good to know we have that right. But Jesus refused to own that right. He recognized that the world was changing for his disciples. The world around us is changing dramatically as well. The Corona virus has halted the frenetic pace of our world and has very quickly seeped into our psyche. This sickness has touched millions of lives and has caused fear, anxiety, and anger in billions more. In this state we can so quickly assign responsibility for failure to keep us safe from all harm. We blame governments, or foreigners, or the rich who can afford to travel, or the poor who can’t afford to stay at home or wash as frequently as recommended. Again, there is plenty of disappointment to go around. I’m reading this story with new emphasis this year. As I anticipate significant changes in our economy, health system, educational institutions, governments, and churches I read this story as a template for an adequate Christian response to massive shifts. Jesus’ prayer still works God’s grace into difficult and changing times… “Peace be with you”. I am hearing “Peace be with you” as a guide to building relationships that have been damaged. This peace bypassed responsibility and blame for having caused problems. This peace metabolizes pain and allows for the energy that comes from pain to actually build muscle and sinew in the tissue of community. This peace ushers in forgiveness. Forgiveness, I think, is going to be one of the important ingredients in rebuilding relationships and our society when the worst of this pandemic is passed. “Peace be with you.” Amen Offertory Prayer: Because you live, O Christ, we live in hope and joy. We give our offerings to share this resurrection hope and joy with our neighbours, near and far. Bless what we are able to give. Amen. Benediction Behind closed doors, know that you are not alone. The risen Christ stands among us. In locked rooms, understand that nothing restrains resurrection love. The risen Christ shows us his hands and side. In strange times, entrust your lives to the Holy Spirit. The risen Christ breathes upon us. “Peace be with you. As God has sent me, so I send you.” Song We walk by faith HWB 570 Thanks to: Ken Warkentin for the message Paul Plett for the Kid Shorts video Elsie Rempel for the Kid Shorst Study Guide Judith Friesen Epp for the prayers and litanies Prelude – Con Spirito by Thomas Arne Proclamation The Lord is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! The Lord is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! The Lord is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Welcome Good morning and welcome to Easter morning worship at Home Street. Welcome to the life-altering news that our Saviour has risen from the grave! Welcome to the life-shaping news that death is overcome by love! Welcome to the life-guiding news that our friend Jesus is alive, and still calling each of us to follow! As on every other morning when we are gathered as a community, we remind ourselves that we live and worship on holy ground. This is Treaty 1 territory, and we are grateful to all those with whom we share the Treaty and this land – especially to those from this land’s First Nations. We pray that this time of celebration honors the Creator and helps to bring healing and wholeness to Turtle Island. Song – Sing with all the saints (STS #92) Call to worship (Colossians 3:1-3) So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. We have come to the garden, and see that the stone is rolled away! Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. We have entered the tomb, but see only folded grave clothes! When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. We will rush to tell our friends that we have seen the Lord! Prayer Loving and saving God, It is our joy and our thrill and our delight to be gathered this morning as a community that finds its hope in you! As we remind ourselves that pain and suffering and even death are overcome by your eternal love, we find our hearts burning with the desire to know this love more deeply, and to share this love more freely. God, hear our songs of adoration and our words of praise. May all these things bring you glory and adoration. Amen. Easter Reverie – Jesus Christ is risen today arr. Noel Rawsthorne Scripture reading – Psalm 118:1-2; 14-24 This is God’s word to the people. Thanks be to God. Affirmation of faith (from the United Church of Canada) We are not alone, we live in God's world. We believe in God: who has created and is creating, who has come in Jesus, the Word made flesh, to reconcile and make new, who works in us and others by the Spirit. We trust in God. We are called to be the Church: to celebrate God's presence, to live with respect in Creation, to love and serve others, to seek justice and resist evil, to proclaim Jesus, crucified and risen, our friend, our Saviour, and our hope. In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. We are not alone. Thanks be to God. Amen Offertory – That Easter morn, at break of day God, we humbly and gratefully give back some of what has been entrusted to us. May our gifts be signs of our hope and optimism, and tokens of our conviction that you are alive and your love needs to be shared! Amen. (As you listen to the offering music you are invited to prepare a cheque or send an e-transfer to donate@hsmc.ca. We understand that some of you are experiencing reduced income during this pandemic time, and only want you to give as you are able.) Song – Low in the grave he lay (HWB #273) Scripture reading – Mark 15:33-39 and Mark 16:1-8 This is God’s word to the people. Thanks be to God. Meditation Good Morning and Happy Easter to one and all. Christ is risen and I am grateful for it and I trust you all are too. People like us have been gathering to commemorate this joyful event that is so central to our faith and hope in God. Except that we’re not “gathering” are we? Much as we’d love to be getting together to shout together “up from the grave he arose!” we aren’t. The peculiar demands of our time tell us that we shouldn’t and so we are far from each other in body. But the body of Christ is no less real this Easter than ever and I give thanks for each of you. May you experience blessing and peace and hope in the midst of your isolation, distancing and potential loneliness. Christ’s resurrection happened in confusing times and so we can, perhaps, identify just a bit closer with that confusion. When Jesus was on the cross a number of things were happening. People were gathered to watch. He received wine or vinegar on a sponge. People taunted him. Others came to console him. Soldiers squatted at the foot of the cross to gamble away his clothing. He was stabbed with a spear. The man who convicted him washed his hands of the matter. But there is one particular thing that happened that I’d like to focus on today: While Jesus was on the cross the veil or curtain in the temple was torn from top to bottom. I want to talk about this because I believe it has profound implications for how we understand the resurrection and how we live our lives in the light of Christ’s rising. First of all, let’s look at what the curtain in the temple was there for. It was a separation between where people could go in the temple and where they could not go. It separated people from the “most holy place” which was the core of the representation of God. The curtain itself was pretty substantial. It was many feet wide and tall. It was made of heavy material and supported by elegant posts. It was kind of like a heavy leather tarp that was a barrier between people and their God. The veil in the temple promoted mystery. After all, if people came to pray and worship they could experience wonder as to what was behind the curtain and imagine what the representation of the presence of God was like. Perhaps they felt encouraged to imagine the presence of God and not just the representation. The curtain also kept people safe. Because God was so holy and wondrous, it would not do for people to come “face to face” with God. The barrier meant that God was too holy for anyone except the designated priest on a designated day to offer incense. So what exactly did the curtain hide that was so important? Over the years they had kept the arc of the covenant behind it, stone tablets, Torah scrolls, incense table and more. All things that were precious, meaningful and powerful representations of God in the life of the people. But then in an unexpected moment this veil, this heavy curtain was torn from top to bottom and all of the secrets of the holy place were revealed for anyone to see. Given that Jesus was crucified at the time of Passover there were probably a lot of folks in the temple at the time. While some may have been taking in the spectacle of the crucifixion I’m sure that plenty were present at the temple doing their religious duty and praying and giving offerings to God. Surprise! God’s presence isn’t hidden any more! I’m sure that if I’d been there I’d have wanted to see that which had been hidden all those years. Some might have averted their gaze and not looked at what they weren’t supposed to. We don’t really know. In the text it says that the Roman centurian declared Jesus to be the Son of God in the next line of text. How he would have known about the veil-rending I’m not sure but we are given a pretty clear connection between Jesus death and authority and what just happened in the temple. So why did the curtain tear? Was it old and in poor repair and it’s time had simply come? Was this simply some sort of cosmic coincidence? We can’t say for sure but we get to imagine meaning into this peculiar drapery downfall. Jesus had been critical of the religious structure of the day and even said that the temple would be torn down. This may have been the beginning of that process. The old religious structure was no longer effectual and needed to be laid bare for the scam that it was. RIIIIIIIP. See? Nothing there. Just a dusty candelabra and some incense and other oddments. Time for a new religious order! Another very happy and plausible interpretation is that the tearing of the veil symbolized the breaking of the barrier between us and God. We no longer needed mediation to come before the presence of the divine. Some would add that Christ’s death was the new form of mediation between us and God and all we have to do is have faith in Jesus and we can know God for eternity. I would like us to think about a third possibility for why the temple veil was torn in this abrupt manner. I think that maybe Jesus was releasing God from a sort of confinement in the Holy of Holies. I wonder if Jesus realized that the time of limiting God’s presence to a small place in the temple was hindering people’s understanding of God and God needed to be let out into the bright light of day rather than remaining shrouded in temple mystery. Jesus consistently argued with religious authorities who were intent on controlling people’s access to God. Their rules and regulations, their purity laws, their labels of sinfulness, their profiteering from the sacrificial system all made Jesus quite irate so maybe he was just giving them their comeuppance. By tearing the veil through his death Jesus was saying “now what is the authority on which you base your oppression? See, God’s left the building!” We are left with a problem though aren’t we? If Jesus, God’s son, is now dead and God is no longer in the temple where is God? Actually, this isn’t our problem so much as our glorious opportunity. The tearing of the veil gives us limitless scope for discovering God in our hearts, in our lives, in our world, in each other and more. What Jesus did for us on the cross by ripping the temple curtain was to exchange a measly holy mystery confined to the temple for a cosmic, boundless mystery of love that can only be comprehended through the glory of life and an eternity of life at that. We can now look for God in all manner of mysterious places and courageously see the veils torn aside. I will point out a few veils that have been torn for me over the years. When I was younger I had an implicit understanding that the “man was the head of the household” and other such sexist talk. The discovery of mutuality in relationship helped tear down that veil. I once had some pretty racist understandings of relationships between white and non-white people. A variety of experiences tore down that horrible curtain for me and I am so glad for a more equitable spirit. I once had homophobic understandings that were handed to me by home and culture. Thanks be to God that curtain has been torn as well. It is important to note that tearing the veil doesn’t necessarily give you all that you need to get into the presence of God. Identifying the veils of sexism, racism and homophobia and seeing them torn didn’t transform me. But seeing God’s wisdom in the wisdom of women, seeing God revealed in people of all colours and races and seeing God revealed in all sexual orientations has helped explain much more what a dead and resurrected God is like. It's also important to note that the tearing of the curtain impacts both the individual and the community. As I mentioned, many people were probably in the temple when the curtain was ripped. Temple authorities among them. When we’re faced with challenges we are called to face them both individually and as a community. Currently we are in a pandemic situation where we are having to make choices between “business as usual” and social distancing practises. Voices are being heard from various perspectives but for now most community leaders and individuals are saying that saving lives – particularly those of the elderly – is more important than “the economy”. It will be interesting to see what we’ve learned by the end of this particular curtain-ripping experience. Easter is always about dying to the old and rising to the new. Old self, new self. Destructive patterns, healthy patterns. Life sucking relationships, to life-giving relationships. Jesus tore the veil so that we too could roll away the stones blocking us from newness of life. Jesus revealed God as so much more. More than laws. More than observances. More even than worship. God is all in all and our lives are to be about discovering that goodness now and forevermore. The curtain is torn and Christ is risen indeed! Song – Thine is the glory (HWB #269) Benediction: “Ascension” by Malcolm Guite We saw his light break through the cloud of glory Whilst we were rooted still in time and place As earth became a part of Heaven’s story And heaven opened to his human face. We saw him go and yet we were not parted He took us with him to the heart of things The heart that broke for all the broken-hearted Is whole and Heaven-centered now, and sings, Sings in the strength that rises out of weakness, Sings through the clouds that veil him from our sight, Whilst we our selves become his clouds of witness And sing the waning darkness into light, His light in us, and ours in him concealed, Which all creation waits to see revealed. Postlude – Christ is alive! Participants in this morning’s service: Meditation: Steve Plenert Worship leader: Phil Campbell-Enns |