Beannacht
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
- John O'Donohue
A Blessing for Equilibrium
Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the music of laughter break through your soul.
As the wind wants to make everything dance,
May your gravity be lightened by grace.
Like the freedom of the monastery bell,
May clarity of mind make your eyes smile.
As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.
As silence smiles on the other side of what's said,
May a sense of irony give you perspective.
As time remains free of all that it frames,
May fear or worry never put you in chains.
May your prayer of listening deepen enough
To hear in the distance the laughter of God.
~ John
O'Donohue
July 4, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
Today's reading, from the 2nd book of Kings, was the story of General Naaman, the commander of the army of the King of Aram, who went to the Prophet Elisha in an effort to be cured of his leprosy.
The General was extremely offended when Elisha sent a messenger to speak to the General rather than attending himself. He was even more upset at what the messenger told him to do. "Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean."
But that wasn't BIG enough for Naaman. No, he wanted a BIG challenge - something 'worthy' of his skills and his position - his status. So, taking offence at the fact that Elisha sent a messenger AND that the message wasn't BIG enough for him, Naaman became angry - "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?" He turned and went away in a rage."
Luckily for Naaman, one of his servants helped him to see the error of his thinking and he agreed to Elisha's direction and was healed.
We, just like Naaman, can be blindsided by our pride. We ask for God's help but when it comes, if it isn't what we expected - or what we wanted - we refuse it. Or we don't see it for what it is.
Reminds me of the story of the woman who climbed onto the roof of her house after a flood. A fellow with a row boat came by and wanted to help her. No thanks she said, I've put my faith in God. God will provide. Shortly afterwards another boat came by but she refused their help as well. And again, some time later, a third boat was turned away. Finally, after hours of waiting in vain on the top of her roof for God to save her she called out "God, where are you? I prayed for you to help me and yet I'm still on the roof." And a voice from the heavens called out, "Woman, I SENT three boats!!!".
We all need someone like Naaman's servant to remind us that "if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it"
Sometimes the simplest message is the best one. After all, there were three boats. :)
An Acolyte
June 28, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage." So said Thucydides, a Greek historian and author born in 460bc. Long before Christ died on the cross for our freedom.
St. Paul, in his second letter to Timothy reminded him that "God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline."
Both statements made long before the war in Iraq - coined "Operation Iraq Freedom" - where Canada has lost 150 soldiers, three in the last 10 days.
Freedom. Canadians take it pretty much for granted. Which might explain why the erection of the fence in downtown Toronto, and the associated special police powers. We have - generally speaking - the freedom to walk wherever we want. We have the freedom to worship whomever we want. The freedom to do whatever we want. Other's don't have those freedoms - some haven't even got the very basic freedoms, necessities, of life.
Rev Pat spoke of freedom on Sunday when she said a prayer for the fallen soldiers - all 150 and, in particular, the three who died this week - Master Cpl. Kristal Giesebrecht, Pvt. Andrew Miller and Sgt. James MacNeil.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.
As we approach July 1st and celebrate all things Canadian we should also take a moment to celebrate our freedom and to thank those who've sacrificed not only their freedom, but their lives, for others.
Thank you all.
An Acolyte
June 19, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
Today's reading was from the 1st book of Kings in the Old Testament. The Word of the Lord told Elijah to "Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by."
And so Elijah heard "a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence."
Elijah encountered God in the "sound of sheer silence", not in the roaring of the fire or the shrieking of the wind. In the silence.
What Elijah discovered - and what we all need to remember - is that the entire time we're busy, busy, busy with our complaints, with our ranting and raving, with our tirades God is there. God is waiting for us to be still. To be calm enough, silent enough, to hear him. He's always there. We need only, in the words of the Psalmist, to be still.
An Acolyte
May 31, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
We say it all the time. In every service and whenever we make the sign of the cross. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Trinity. But I'd venture to say we don't spend too much time actually thinking about it. But oday was Trinity Sunday and Fr. Myles began his sermon by asking "how many God's are there?"
The correct answer of course being ‘one'.
We hear it - we say it - every Sunday in the Nicene Creed. "We believe in one God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father by whom all things were made; who for us , and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man".
Fr. Myles spoke of a conversation he'd had while in Seminary trying to ‘explain' the Trinity to a Muslim student. ‘Can a man be an uncle, a brother, a son and yet still be the same, one, man', he asked his friend? Of course was the reply. So the same holds true for the Trinity. God is the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. One God.
Theophilus of Antioch, in about the year 180AD, spoke of God as ‘the Father, the Word (Logos) and the Wisdom (Sophia)'.
In the New Testament the Gospel according to St. John begins with reference to the Logos of God. ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" and the mornings' reading, from the Old Testaments, the book of the Prophets, began with reference to the Wisdom of God. Sophia. Wisdom personified. "Does not wisdom call, and does not understanding raise her voice?"
Father, Logos, Sophia.
One God.
An Acolyte
May 25, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
On Sunday Fr. Myles talked about the tension between the story from Genesis - what became known as the Tower of Babel - whereby God confused people's languages so that they couldn't understand each other versus the reading that morning taken from the Acts of the Apostles where God made it possible for everyone to understand, regardless of their native tongue.
In Genesis we hear that God confused their language in order to address the power grab that was starting. The people were building a tower to reach God to ensure that they would not "be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." They wanted to take the power in their own hands, determined to build a tower to heaven.
In the Acts of the Apostles Luke writes that God wanted people to understand each other so that they can share in God's grace. "In our own languages" said those who were in the crowd, "we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power." It was not, Peter told them, that they were "filled with new wine" as some in the crowd believed; it was the realization of the Prophet Joel's proclamation that God had declared he would "pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy." And prophesy they did - sharing "God's deeds of power." Not THEIR power, God's power.
Compare that to the story In Genesis. People settled in the land of Shinar and decided that they would "build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." THEY decided. THEY assumed - or tried to assume - the power. But God "came down to see the city and the tower, which mortals had built. And the LORD said, "Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another's speech." So the LORD scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. Therefore it was called Babel, because there the LORD confused the language of all the earth; and from there the LORD scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth."
What was done in Babel was undone in Jerusalem on Pentecost. And truly Joel's declaration did come true because "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.'
An Acolyte
Reflections of an Acolyte:
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
We say it all the time. In every service and whenever we make the sign of the cross. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Trinity. But I'd venture to say we don't spend too much time actually thinking about it. But oday was Trinity Sunday and Fr. Myles began his sermon by asking "how many God's are there?"
The correct answer of course being ‘one'.
We hear it - we say it - every Sunday in the Nicene Creed. "We believe in one God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father by whom all things were made; who for us , and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man".
Fr. Myles spoke of a conversation he'd had while in Seminary trying to ‘explain' the Trinity to a Muslim student. ‘Can a man be an uncle, a brother, a son and yet still be the same, one, man', he asked his friend? Of course was the reply. So the same holds true for the Trinity. God is the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. One God.
Theophilus of Antioch, in about the year 180AD, spoke of God as ‘the Father, the Word (Logos) and the Wisdom (Sophia)'.
In the New Testament the Gospel according to St. John begins with reference to the Logos of God. ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" and the mornings' reading, from the Old Testaments, the book of the Prophets, began with reference to the Wisdom of God. Sophia. Wisdom personified. "Does not wisdom call, and does not understanding raise her voice?"
Father, Logos, Sophia.
One God.
An Acolyte
May 25, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
On Sunday Fr. Myles talked about the tension between the story from Genesis - what became known as the Tower of Babel - whereby God confused people's languages so that they couldn't understand each other versus the reading that morning taken from the Acts of the Apostles where God made it possible for everyone to understand, regardless of their native tongue.
In Genesis we hear that God confused their language in order to address the power grab that was starting. The people were building a tower to reach God to ensure that they would not "be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." They wanted to take the power in their own hands, determined to build a tower to heaven.
In the Acts of the Apostles Luke writes that God wanted people to understand each other so that they can share in God's grace. "In our own languages" said those who were in the crowd, "we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power." It was not, Peter told them, that they were "filled with new wine" as some in the crowd believed; it was the realization of the Prophet Joel's proclamation that God had declared he would "pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy." And prophesy they did - sharing "God's deeds of power." Not THEIR power, God's power.
Compare that to the story In Genesis. People settled in the land of Shinar and decided that they would "build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." THEY decided. THEY assumed - or tried to assume - the power. But God "came down to see the city and the tower, which mortals had built. And the LORD said, "Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another's speech." So the LORD scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. Therefore it was called Babel, because there the LORD confused the language of all the earth; and from there the LORD scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth."
What was done in Babel was undone in Jerusalem on Pentecost. And truly Joel's declaration did come true because "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.'
An Acolyte
May 4, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
In the Gospel according to St. John we hear Christ say to the disciples "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another."
Can you, asked Fr. Myles on Sunday, command someone to love another? The response from the congregation was mixed - some heads nodding, others shaking. You can imagine what those people shaking their heads were thinking. ‘Command' me to love someone? That's not possible, love isn't something you command to happen, love just happens. You either love someone or you don't.
But, Fr. Myles said, it's the people who nodded yes to the question who got it right. Because Christ was not talking about the kind of love we usually think of when we hear that word. No hearts & flowers and carving initials in a tree. No, the love that Christ was talking about is love in action. Agape. It's a decision made to love someone. Even someone you don't particularly care for - certainly not the hearts & flowers stuff. In fact, agape has been defined by a modern day theologian & philosopher as "an intentional response to promote well-being when responding to that which has generated ill-being." Definitely not hearts & flowers.
So when Christ told the disciples - and through them, us - to ‘love one another' it really was a commandment. A directive. Because it's a decision one makes. Because by doing it, Christ told them, "everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."
Love one another.
An Acolyte
April 8, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.'
These words, from Peter to Christ, were given in response to the third time Jesus asked ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?'
The most important part of this exchange of question/answer is not what was said, Fr. Myles advised on Wednesday night, it's what wasn't.
Peter had denied Christ three times. ‘I do not know the man!' Peter tells those in the courtyard who recognized him. ‘I do not know what you are talking about.'. And yet Christ doesn't ask Peter how could he have done it. He doesn't say "Simon son of John, why did you deny me?". He doesn't ask Peter to explain himself or to try to justify his behaviour. He asks nothing more than "do you love me". Because that's what it's all about. In the end love rules. And because love is the key all Christ needed to know from Peter was 'do you love me.'
For something that should be quite basic and straightforward - after all, what could be more direct than 'God is love' - people sure make it complex.
An Acolyte
May 4, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
In the Gospel according to St. John we hear Christ say to the disciples "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another."
Can you, asked Fr. Myles on Sunday, command someone to love another? The response from the congregation was mixed - some heads nodding, others shaking. You can imagine what those people shaking their heads were thinking. ‘Command' me to love someone? That's not possible, love isn't something you command to happen, love just happens. You either love someone or you don't.
But, Fr. Myles said, it's the people who nodded yes to the question who got it right. Because Christ was not talking about the kind of love we usually think of when we hear that word. No hearts & flowers and carving initials in a tree. No, the love that Christ was talking about is love in action. Agape. It's a decision made to love someone. Even someone you don't particularly care for - certainly not the hearts & flowers stuff. In fact, agape has been defined by a modern day theologian & philosopher as "an intentional response to promote well-being when responding to that which has generated ill-being." Definitely not hearts & flowers.
So when Christ told the disciples - and through them, us - to ‘love one another' it really was a commandment. A directive. Because it's a decision one makes. Because by doing it, Christ told them, "everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."
Love one another.
An Acolyte
April 8, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.'
These words, from Peter to Christ, were given in response to the third time Jesus asked ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?'
The most important part of this exchange of question/answer is not what was said, Fr. Myles advised on Wednesday night, it's what wasn't.
Peter had denied Christ three times. ‘I do not know the man!' Peter tells those in the courtyard who recognized him. ‘I do not know what you are talking about.'. And yet Christ doesn't ask Peter how could he have done it. He doesn't say "Simon son of John, why did you deny me?". He doesn't ask Peter to explain himself or to try to justify his behaviour. He asks nothing more than "do you love me". Because that's what it's all about. In the end love rules. And because love is the key all Christ needed to know from Peter was 'do you love me.'
For something that should be quite basic and straightforward - after all, what could be more direct than 'God is love' - people sure make it complex.
An Acolyte
March 29, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
'When I get older I will be stronger, they'll call me freedom, just like a wavin' flag'.
These lyrics begin the song 'Wavin' Flag', originally recorded by K'Naan and then re-recorded as a tribute to Haiti. And it was the song that Gervais and the other singers and musicians used to end the 'S'ak Pase, Haiti' fundraising event on Sunday.
The event was amazing. The music was interspersed with readings given by the youth group - letters written from Haiti. Letters that talked of loss and pain, of love and hope. Letters written by real people from Haiti and read by real leaders of tomorrow. The youth group - led by James and Gervais - banded together to create an amazing event to raise money for people they've never met. People they will never meet. Agape. Love in action. As K'Naan himself sings "love is the answer".
'Wavin' Flag' was a particularly appropriate song to end with; the lyrics a powerful statement that speak volumes. "you probably think that it’s too far to even have to care" sings K'Naan and yet the youth group at St. George's on the Hill care. They care and they put that into action.
And the thing to remember - from the lyrics of 'Wavin' Flag' - "if you weren’t involved before it’s never too late to start."
It is never too late to start.
S'ak passe!
An Acolyte
March 27, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
On Wednesday night the reading was from 1st Corinthians. A reading we've heard time and again - at weddings and funerals. Celebrations of life's beginnings; celebrations of life's end. "Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in
wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."
There are four words in Greek for love, Fr. Myles told us.
"Philia" - as in Philidelphia (which is known, after all, as the city of Brotherly Love!) is the love of family, of brother and sister. The love of friends and family.
"Storge" is the love of country, of home - a natural affection.
"Eros" - as in 'erotic' - is passionate love with sensual desire and longing. Plato said that 'eros' helps the soul recall knowledge of beauty, and contributes to an understanding of spiritual truth.
And , the one used by St. Paul in his letter to the people of Corinth, "Agape".
Agape is a kind of sacrificial love - it's a decision to love. Agape, the love for someone who perhaps doesn't really deserve to be loved. Agape, when you make the decision to love someone in spite of everything they've done or not done. Agape is not an emotional response like philia; not a passionate, biological attraction or response to someone like eros. Agape is a decision to love - to do the right thing in the eyes of God.
Because "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways." and I understood the power of agape.
"faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love."
An Acolyte
March 22, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
"....while he was still far off...."
On Sunday March 14th Fr. Myles told us that the prodigal son was one of the most important parables in the New Testament.
His younger son had left the family, taken his inheritance, and "squandered his property in dissolute living" before returning to his father. His intent was to seek forgiveness, to go before his father saying ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.' But his father didn't know that. His father - seeing him in the distance - wouldn't have known what his son intended to say and yet, "while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him." Nothing mattered except for the fact that his child was home.
And that is still all that matters. Because when we return to God after a time of "dissolute living" we are welcomed back while we are still a far way off. Once we've made that first step back God is there waiting - filled with compassion
Thanks Be to God.
An Acolyte
March 15, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
On Wednesday night the Gospel reading was of Christ's entry into Jerusalem to proclamations of hosanna. Christians, over the years, have come to think of hosanna as a kind of ‘praise God' proclamation. However, Fr. Myles explained that the word hosanna comes from the Hebrew ‘hosha'na' which was itself, in all likelihood, shortened from ‘hoshi'ah-nna' (save, we pray) taken from the Psalms. Hosanna was originally an appeal for deliverance - ‘save, we pray' - but is often used in the Christian church as an acknowledgment of praise based primarily on its use on Palm Sunday.
The use of hosanna as an appeal for deliverance began about 175 years BC. Antiochus Epiphanes, then the Greek ruler of the empire, thought of the High Priest as a political appointment. The Jews, however, believed the Priest to be one who was divinely appointed. Antiochus also used the position as a means of making money. Seems it always comes down to money doesn't it?
Onias III was the High Priest however Antiochus allowed himself to be bribed by Jason to place him in the position instead. Antiochus later accepted another bribe, this time from Menelaus, to replace Jason. (what goes around comes around!)
Menelaus then had Onias killed, and was responsible for the removal of holy vessels from the Temple. He was arrested and brought before Antiochus where, once again, he was successful in bribing Antiochus and allowed to go free. Jason was able to wrestle back control of the High Priest position and Antiochus put into effect a ban on Jewish sacrifices, Sabbaths and feasts. Circumcision was outlawed, statues of Greek gods were erected and pigs sacrificed on them.
A revolt, led by Mattathias a rural Jewish priest from Modiin, developed against Antiochus; Mattathias and his five sons had to flee to Judah after they were found responsible for the death of another. Mattathias himself died a year later and his son, Judah Maccabee, successfully took over the revolt. The Maccabean's became well known for what we call ‘guerrilla tactics' and, after defeating Antiochus' army, returned to Jerusalem in triumph greeted by crowds of people waving branches and proclaiming ‘hoshi'ah-nna'. The Maccabees then ritually cleansed the Temple, reestablished traditional Jewish worship and installed Jonathan Maccabee as High Priest.
The Jewish festival of Hanukkah, which begins this year on December 1st, is a celebration of this re-dedication of the Temple and the Maccabee's victory.
An Acolyte
February 16, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
Last Wednesday night the Gospel reading was from St. Mark. Christ had forewarned Peter that "Truly I tell you, this day, this very night, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times."
OK, so how many times have you heard that reading? And when you've heard it don't you immediately think that a rooster was crowing? Well, I certainly did. Until Wednesday night that is.
Because Fr. Myles explained that in actuality, the term ‘cock crow' has nothing to do with a rooster - or any kind of bird for that matter. In fact, according to Jewish law, poultry was forbidden within the Holy City, so it sure wasn't referring to a rooster. No, ‘cock crow' is the literal translation of gallicinian, the Latin word for trumpet call. The hour of 3AM was known as cock crow because the sign that the guard was changing at 3AM was signalled by the blowing of a trumpet. And, because of the sheer volume of crowds gathered for Passover there would have been two ‘cock crows'; the trumpet would have been blown twice, once at one end of the city and once at the other. So, what Christ was telling Peter was that before the trumpet sounded twice to signal the 3AM watch change he would have denied Jesus three times.
And it all makes perfect sense when you look a few passages earlier in Mark's Gospel. Jesus is telling the disciples "keep awake--for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn". The Romans divided each day into three hour segments; those at night were called ‘watches'. So, first watch would have been "the evening" (6pm), 2nd watch would have been "midnight", 3rd watch "at cockcrow" (3AM) and 4th watch "at dawn".
So, if you'll excuse a little redaction, what Christ said to Peter (in a way that is easier for us to understand 2000 years later) was "Truly I tell you, this day, this very night, before 3AM, you will deny me three times."
An Acolyte
February 11, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
Sunday's service began with a song - a fairly common thing at St. George's - but in this case a very different kind of song.
Gervais, one of our new Youth Leaders, taught us a Haitian song. Fr. Myles had just announced that St. George's on the Hill - in three short weeks - had raised over $18,000.00 ($18,056.05 to be exact!) in overwhelming response to the Haitian relief effort. That, because of the dollar for dollar matching by the government, means that St. George's is responsible for $36,112.10. That's a lot of blankets, and water, and medicine and help for the Haitians struggling to recover from the massive earthquake. That's a lot of love.
Gervais asked us, in song, ‘S'ak pase?' and we answered ‘n'ap boule'. For those who don't speak Haitian Creole the translation goes like this - Gervais asked us "What's up?" and in one voice we responded "Everything's good",
Just as, in one voice we raised over $18,000.00 ($18,056.05 to be exact), in one voice we responded ‘Everything's Good'.
And you know, it will be. Everything will be good again. Many not right away, but soon. Because, yes, while Haiti was hit with a devastating earthquake, many lives were lost and many others shattered, Haitian voices are still being raised in song.
And our voices are joining them. Both in song and with support ($18,056.05 to be exact).
May the God who dances in Creation,
Who embraces us with human love,
And who shakes our lives like thunder
Bless us and drive us out in power
To fill the world with justice.
S'ak pase?
N'ap boule!
An Acolyte
February 4, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
The Gospel reading on Wednesday night was St. Luke's story of the healing of the ten lepers.
As he was making his way to Jerusalem Jesus was approached by ten lepers who, we are told, kept their distance as was the required custom of the time. The men called to Christ "Master, have mercy on us." And what did Jesus do? Well, if you've ever watched any of the TV evangelists you might imagine that he pushed his hand against their forward and screamed for 'the demon leprosy' to "COME OUT". Or perhaps he made them get down on their knees and repent loudly and repeatedly of the sins that made them less than whole. Or maybe he ....... but never mind, we know what he did. He told them to go and show themselves to the priest. A simple request which they turned to do, just as he said, with no complaint or question. And, "as they went, they were made clean." They asked for mercy, accepted what Christ told them to do, and they were healed.
Reminds me very much of Sunday's reading, interestingly about leprosy as well. General Naaman was suffering from leprosy and was told to go and see the prophet Elisha. Naaman presented himself, along with his horses and chariots, at Elisha's home fully expecting the prophet to meet with him. But Elisha sent a messenger instead who told Naaman that he was to "wash in the Jordan seven times". Well, Naaman wasn't happy with that response. After all, he was an important General. He deserved better treatment than that. Leaving Elisha's home "in a rage" it wasn't until his servants convinced him that he did as he was told. ‘‘Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, "Wash, and be clean"?' So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean."
The General expected the kind of TV response we've come to know. Bells & whistles, lightning bolts and loud voices. And when he didn't get it he was "in a rage". The ten lepers were happy with the response they received and "as they went, they were made clean".
We're all lepers. We all have some kind of disease, or, as Fr. Myles said, some kind of "dis-ease", with something in our lives. Maybe it's an addiction or a troubled relationship. Maybe feelings of guilt, jealousy or fear. Whatever it is - that's our leprosy.
And what we need to do is behave more like the ten than the General. Ask to be healed and then go and live our lives as if we had already been healed. And we will be. Because, "AS THEY WENT they were made clean"
An Acolyte
January 25, 2010
Reflections of an Acolyte:
"You can't tell me there is no mystery, it's everywhere I turn" Mystery, a song by Bruce Cockburn, was on the radio as I drove home from church on Sunday. And it captured my attention because this Sunday in the church calendar was the celebration of the Conversion of St. Paul.
If there was ever a mystery in the Christian story - at least to those who first hear it - it's the Conversion of St. Paul.
Paul, or Saul as he was then known, first appears in the Acts of the Apostle in the story of the stoning of St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Stephen "gazed into heaven and told the crowd that he could see the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!" but the crowd "dragged him out of the city and began to stone him; and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul."
Sometime later while Saul was travelling to Damascus to arrest Christians he experienced his conversion. One of the most miraculous events in the New Testament and certainly a mystery to many. After Saul, now known as Paul, recovered his sight and his strength following his conversion "he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God.' St. Luke tell us that "All who heard him were amazed and said, ‘Is not this the man who made havoc in Jerusalem among those who invoked this name? And has he not come here for the purpose of bringing them bound before the chief priests?" They were certainly puzzled. This really was a mystery to them. The man most feared by Christians is now proclaiming Christ as Lord. What's up with that?
As Fr. Myles said, if Saul could be saved and turn his life around as Paul then there is absolutely hope for any part of our lives that need to be fixed. The man who stood by while Stephen was stoned to death would later write some of the most powerful words in the New Testament, "faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love."
A mystery? Absolutely and I think Cockburn was right - "you can't tell me there is no mystery, it overflows my cup."
An Acolyte
December 28, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte:
A Celtic prayer for a winters' eve
I smoor the fire this night
As the Son of Mary would smoor it;
The compassing of God be on the fire,
The compassing of God on all the household.
Be God's compassing about ourselves,
Be God's compassing about us all,
Be God's compassing upon the flock,
Be God's compassing upon the hearth.
Who keeps watch this night?
Who but the Christ of the poor,
The bright and gentle Brigit of the kine,
The bright and gentle Mary of the ringlets.
Whole be house and herd,
Whole be son and daughter,
Whole be wife and man,
Whole be household all.
December 24, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte:
According to an on-line dictionary the word ‘abide' has several definitions but the primary one seems to be "to remain; continue; stay". And the example given was "abide with me".
Like the hymn of the same name written by Henry Francis Lyte as he lay dying of tuberculosis. Lyte asks God, through music, to stay by his side, through life and through death ..... "Abide with me; fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me." A beautiful song and one we all know and immediately recognize when we hear the beginning notes.
The difference, Fr. Myles pointed out last evening, is in one little word ...... ‘with' versus ‘in'.
Lyte, in his hymn, exhorts God to ‘Abide with me' - stay with me, be with me. In the Gospel reading last night Fr. Myles read the passage from St. John where Christ tells us to ‘abide in me'. In not with. A little word that makes, in this instance, a very big difference.
Each of us, as Fr. Myles has often said, is a ‘little Christ'; each of us has a spark of the divine within us. Each of us abides in Christ - not with, not near, not around - but in. "Abide in me as I abide in you" Christ reminds us in John's Gospel.
Where have you heard this before? Time and time again - every time we celebrate - because its the final line of the Eucharistic Prayer .... ""By whom, with whom and IN whom...." I wonder if, because we hear it every time we celebrate, we miss its power.
Abide in me. ‘because apart from me you can do nothing'
In. Not with.
‘As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.'
A fitting reminder on this Christmas Eve.
An Acolyte
December 12, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte
'My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior'
So begins one of the most well known passages in the New Testament. Mary, pregnant with Christ, travels to see her cousin Elizabeth - herself carrying John the Baptist. Mary calls out her hello's to Elizabeth who is immediately 'filled with the Holy Spirit' and whose child in her womb 'leaped with joy' upon hearing her voice.
Elizabeth goes on to tell Mary that she is blessed because she believed that which had been told her by the Angel; 'you will conceive in your womb and bear a son' Mary was told 'and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High'. And Mary's response? 'Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.'
'Here am I'. How tempting it must have been to simply turn and run. Isn't that a very common response when faced with something we don't understand, or something which we know will cause us great difficulties. Turn and run. We have examples from the Bible of just that. When 'the word of the Lord came to Jonah' asking him to go to the city of Nineveh and 'cry out against it' did he respond 'here am I, servant of the Lord.'? Nope. Jonah 'set out to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord.' Did Jeremiah, when he first heard the Word of God telling him that he was going to be a 'prophet to the nations' respond 'Here am I, a servant of the Lord.'? Nope. He protested that he wasn't worthy. After all, he said, 'Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.'
And yet Mary, a young girl of perhaps 13 years old, when faced with what was surely the most challenging responsibility, responded with the most amazingly simple answer. 'Here am I, the servant of the Lord.'
'My spirit rejoices in God my Savior'.
Thanks Be to God.
An Acolyte
December 7, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte:
'Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; and uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed".
These words, from the book of Isaiah, were echoed in Sunday's Gospel reading where we heard the story of John the Baptist 'proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins'.
'Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth' says John the Baptist. Because, John reminds us, with God all things are possible. No matter how daunting they might appear to be. No matter how insurmountable the mountains and hills in our lives. No matter how deep the valleys.
Got rough places in your life? Sometimes find yourself in a deep valley? Or looking way up at mountains and hills? Sure you do. We all do. And God knows that. So John the Baptist reminds us, through the words of Isaiah, that with God all things become level. The mountains are made low and the valleys are lifted up. And all things are possible.
And 'the glory of the Lord shall be revealed.'
An Acolyte
November 27, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte
"God of love and power". So began the prayer over the gifts on Wednesday evening.
But what ~ Fr. Myles had asked only minutes earlier in the homily ~ what is power? Is power the ability to control others? Is it money or fame or glory? Or is it found in kindness and gentleness?
Or perhaps, he suggested, power is found in our stories.
The Christian life is made up of stories. The Gospel reading, from St. Matthew, was the story of the mother of the sons of Zebedee asking Christ for positions of power for her sons. The story is interesting in what it teaches but it is also interesting in the difference between Matthew's version and the earlier recording in the Gospel according to St. Mark.
In Mark's Gospel it isn't the mother who asks for positions of power for her sons ..... it's the boys themselves! Mark writes that "James and John, the sons of Zebedee...said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.' But when it came time for Matthew to recount the story - because the lesson was powerful - he must have found the story a bit unpalatable for his audience. After all, you don't necessarily want to show these two, now powerful and well respected leaders of the church, in a not totally flattering light. Kinda like the "pick me, pick me" of the school yard. So the story, when written by Matthew, became "Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came to him with her sons, and kneeling before him, she asked a favour of him. And he said to her, ‘What do you want?' She said to him, ‘Declare that these two sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.'"
Different? Sure, but the message remains the same. The message wasn't really about who asked anyway. The real point of the story involved someone asking for power and Christ's response.
And isn't that the way with most stories, asked Fr. Myles? Our own stories are often softened if, upon retelling, they might show someone (perhaps even ourselves) in a not quite so flattering light. So you take out the edgy bits, soften it up a touch, but leave the essence and the message the same. Because stories ARE powerful. People whom ‘we love but see no longer' live on for us in their stories. The stories we share and treasure.
The Christian faith lives on in stories. Stories of Christ's birth, death, resurrection. Stories we share and treasure.
Powerful stories.
God of love and power.
An Acolyte
November 20, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte:
On Wednesday evening Fr. Myles spoke of the importance of sharing our stories with others and used St. Aidan of Lindisfarne as an example.
In the year 634AD King Oswald, determined to bring Christianity to the pagans, asked for a missionary from the sacred isle of Iona be sent to convert as many people as possible. The monastery sent a new bishop, Cormán, who struggled and found little, if any, success. Cormán returned to the monastery and reported that the Northumbrians were too ‘stubborn' and ‘pig-headed' to be converted.
From the writings of the Venerable Bede we learn that Aidan criticized Cormán's style saying that Cormán "did not first, as the Apostle has told us, offer them the milk of less solid doctrine." It's no surprise that Aidan was then sent off to see what he could do with those ‘pig-headed' pagans of Northumbria!
So, in 635AD Aidan left Iona. He selected the isle of Lindisfarne as his ‘home base' and, from there, began to walk amoung the people.
He walked and he talked; telling stories from the Bible; his words, his life and his ways indicative of the power of Christ in his life. Not through heavy hitting evangelizing or proselytizing but through gentle conversation and community. He talked to people in their own language (although in the early days King Oswald had to translate for Aidan and his monks until their command of the English language improved) and at their own level. He became ‘one of them'.
And that's how we should work as well. Like Aidan (unlike Cormán) don't badger people with doctrine and dogma. Demonstrate your faith. Live your faith and talk about the stories that support it. Talk about the ‘coincidences' that, when looked at through the lens of faith, reveal God at work in our lives. Help others open their hearts and their souls to what they might otherwise shrug off as a fluke; teach them, through your stories to see the hand of God in their lives each and every day.
Perhaps we can strive to live our lives ~ even just a little bit ~ like Aidan who was, in the words of Bede, "inspired with a passionate love of virtue, but at the same time full of a surpassing mildness and gentleness."
An Acolyte
November 2, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte
The Gospel reading on Sunday was the story of the raising of Lazarus, from the Gospel According to St. John.
Christ, upon hearing of Lazarus' death went to his tomb and told them to ‘take away the stone.' Martha, one of Lazarus' sisters, reminded him that Lazarus had already been "dead four days." In other words - it's been a long time Lord and ..... he smells. After all, thinks the ever practical Martha, he's been dead four days .... c'mon.
Dead four days. Not ‘just dead' or ‘nearly dead' but really, truly and VERY dead. Four days dead. And with ‘a stench', Martha reminds us, that comes from being four days dead. Four. Days. Dead.
And yet Christ healed him. St. John tells us that Lazarus "came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth". "Unbind him" Christ instructed those gathered around the tomb, "and let him go."
Amazingly, just as Christ was able to heal the VERY dead Lazarus, he too, Fr. Myles reminded us, is able to heal us. And, each and every one of us has some dead spots. Some part of our psyche, our soul, entombed; perhaps after a tragic event, a serious addiction, a broken heart. Maybe we've been hurt over and over by our experience with life and we've just shut down. We've closed off that part of our lives. We've deadened it the world. Each and every one of us has a tomb of some sort. A tomb where we've put that fear or pain or addiction. And its likely been more than four days. Maybe even four years or possibly forty-four years. And yet Christ can heal us. Just as he healed Lazarus, he can heal us.
Christ can heal us. We need to let him.
"Unbind him and let him go."
An Acolyte
October 26, 2009
Reflections of an Acolyte
In St. Paul, in the closing of his letters to the churches in both Rome and Corinth, told them all to "Greet one another with a holy kiss." St. Augustine, in the 4th century, told the faithful "after the Lord's Prayer, say 'Peace be with you.' Christians then embrace one another with a holy kiss. This is the sign of the peace."
In liturgy the kiss of peace had been offered before the Eucharistic prayer and, according to the earliest documents, was reserved only for 'the faithful'. Catechumens (those preparing for baptism) were not permitted to participate - they were, in fact, excused from the service before the peace. Eventually, in the Middle Ages, all but clergy were excluded. Eventually the peace was dropped altogether from the Catholic mass; the only remnant of the rite was the action of the priest kissing the altar. It wasn't until the 1962 Vatican II council that Catholic churches restored the peace to all those who were present.
This is the history of the peace. But on Wednesday evening Fr. Myles talked about the meaning of the peace.
Being surrounded by the peace of God, we were reminded, doesn't mean we have no hardship. God's peace doesn't mean that we have no suffering. What it does mean is that God's love is with us always; God's love is with us through hardship, through suffering, through the pain that comes with living life to its fullest.
God's peace ~ God's love ~ surrounds us, protects us. comforts us, sustains us.
As St. Paul wrote to the Philippians, "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your heart and your minds in Christ Jesus."
May the Peace of the Lord Always be with you.
An Acolyte
Before this birth, this stretch of the journey, when the seas smashed down on Columba's Rock and a cloud laced moon wrapped veils across the Irish nightscape, you were there, somehow in the mystery of God, and you knew; and that echo of memory, far distant and haunting, forms your eyes and your soul --beautiful, restless and longing -- and inspires your religion and passion.
And before this life, this stretch of the highway, when cold waves crashed on Columba's Rock and a lacey moon wrapped her veil 'cross the Irish night, I was there; Somehow in the mystery of God I was there and I knew: I tasted then what I can almost taste now, and had a knowledge I nearly remember; and the shadow of that memory -- distant and unreachable -- forms my search, haunts my heart and soul, inspires and drives my religion of passion.
Now, granted this friendship by God's good grace, for a moment trapped in time and space, we laugh and love by wine and fire, sharing our homelessness and the deep desire for eternity; safeness in each other's arms, and soul friends in good company. We share compassion and fear and failure, knowing a spirit from some other time; and now, even as long before, we share bread and we share wine.
But before our beginning, so long before we were born to meet, what knowing imprinted our souls and seared our hearts? What memory given, so nearly found and so nearly lost? Is it the whisper that love is the fine cut shadow of the blessed reality -- the presence and kiss of almighty God?
I know not. Not with certainty. Not yet. But I do love and I do believe; and in the midst of that belief I know that sights and sounds and smells and Spirits call forth your image and it's clear given to be seen: And I see You.
In the other life you stood on Columba's Rock, dressed in wool and leathers, calling to your lover and the Christ by whistle and by prayer, to make love to you and to make you love: The barefooted maiden, standing on wetted shores -- beautiful, cold, Home, happy, smiling in love with the dark Irish Sea, and singing and whistling prayers as you wait for something, for someone, I can almost remember...
And Now, worlds later and ages apart, granted this friendship by God's good heart, I find you -- so far from the dark Irish Seas -- I recognize and touch and feel you, still wetted by the water's spray, and then I kiss you, And I remember. Just for one fleeting second in one small piece of time, I remember. It is Columba's Rock: That love is the fine cut shadow of the most blessed reality -- the presence and kiss of Almighty God. And I kiss you again, the maiden wrapped in wool and leathers, and as I feel the wind and spray of the Irish seas and inhale your scent and softness, my feet are again firm and home on the Isle; it is no place and everyplace; it is everywhere and nowhere; long past and our future -- the whistle and the prayer that calls us to Columba's Rock where love is the grounding point of all existence, the window through which we peer to get a glimpse of God and find, instead, Ourselves and Each Other.
Later, When this space and time is done, and this incarnation's race is run, we will kiss again, in the age to come; we will dance in the New Jerusalem, and begin again in that Garden where love is real and all else is but shadow and waste -- that Eden where, summoned by whistle and called by prayer, love comes to dwell among us to teach us truth and grace.
And Then I will love you even more than I love you now.
And you and I, again we will stand, cold, happy, singing, praying, at Home, surrounded by God, together on Columba's Rock.
Fr. Myles Hunter
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