Category Archives: covid-19

Following Jesus into the Deep

Luke 5:1-11
… For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

Last weekend, we decided to take drive across town to check in on the lot, or ditch patch as we  call it, where our new house is going to be built this year. On our way, we drove through downtown and encountered a large collection of tractor trailer, pick up trucks and SUVs with Canadian flags adorning them and lots of “freedom convoy” labels. It was a some unexpected drama that has captured our national attention. Last week, as Jesus confronted us as we were tired and edgy, he reminded us that no matter the messes that human communities find themselves in, that God continues to come and meet God’s people. This journey through this season after Epiphany has taken us from the the banks of the river Jordan, to the wedding at Cana, to the synagogue in Nazareth for the past two weeks. But now we end up in the boat with Jesus and his disciples. 

Today, the drama of this scene in Jesus’ story can be lost on us prairie dwellers. Last week Jesus was almost thrown off a cliff, while today he seems to go for a gentle boat ride. We are used to snow plows and SUVs, to eating beef, pork and chicken. And so when we hear that Jesus gets Simon to take his boat out and fish, and then Jesus provides overflowing nets, it seems like a nice story, a quaint story about Jesus making life a little easier for Simon and his companions. But dig a little deeper, and we begin to see that this is not just about Jesus providing fish. Today, Jesus is just as offensive as he was a week ago, and today, Jesus isn’t the only one in danger of losing his life.

As Jesus begins to get more famous, people begin to follow him around. The crowds press in on him to hear what he is saying. And this time they press him right to the edge of the Lake, so when Jesus can walk no further, he hops in a boat, into Simon who will later be named Peter, and continues to teach. Simon has caught nothing and is going home for the day. Yet when Jesus hops in his boat, he obligingly takes him out a few feet. Simon would have seen that Jesus was an important teacher with all these people coming to hear what Jesus had to say. 

Yet, when the sermon ends, Jesus doesn’t ask to go back to shore, instead he tells Simon to go out into the middle of lake. The preacher in the boat tells Simon the experienced fisherman to do exactly what fisherman don’t do. They do not go out on the lake in the middle of the day. They fish at night, near the shore by lantern light. This is how they have fished for generations. Simon is not impressed with this teacher fellow sitting in his boat. In fact he begins to refuse, 

“Look teacher, we have been fishing all night, our nets need repair, maybe you should stick to speeches and let us do the fishing” Simon has just met Jesus, but it doesn’t take him long to use that impulsive mouth that he will become known for. But then, Simon changes his mind part way through his refusal and says, “Well I guess it won’t hurt, so if you say so Jesus”. 

We aren’t too different than Simon, we often wonder if God actually knows what is going on. Like Simon, we find it easy to stick to the routines and to stick to what we know. Even when sticking to the routines leaves us with empty nets. Yet, God is calling us away from the safety of the shore, out to the deep water, out the unknown.

The unknown is scary and terrifying. And these days we only have a certain level of tolerance for anything different, anything that demands something of us. The issue at the core of the freedom convoy and any protest against COVID-19 restrictions or mandates has often begun with the resistance to this calling into the unknown, the unfamiliar. Masks are uncomfortable. Staying home is boring and lonely and hard. Getting vaccinated might cause uncertainty. 

But our resistance to the deep water, to following Jesus away from the shore, to allowing ourselves some discomfort comes at a cost. Sometimes it might be missed opportunities, as a church it could mean missing out on reaching new people in new ways, and as we are discovering during this pandemic… refusing to do that unexpected, unknown thing is resulting in more people getting sick, more ending up in the hospital and more people dying… all for the stated reasons of freedom, but for the real reason of being unwilling to be uncomfortable for a while or give up something of ourselves for the sake of our neighbour. 

God’s call to the deep waters can feel so risky that we would rather starve doing what we know. 

But with Jesus in his boat, Simon decided to listen to the teacher in the boat. And imagine his surprise as he lets down his nets into the deep water and then begins to haul them back in. The weight of the net pulling back more than Simon ever expected, maybe more than he had ever experienced. And Simon tries to the get the net — and all the fish — in the boat, there is so much that he must call to his friends, James and John before the nets break, and still there is so much fish that they both begin to sink. If there was excitement at catching a lot of fish, it would have disappeared when the boats began to sink, in the middle of lake. The wandering preacher might have guessed where the fish were, but it wasn’t going to do Simon any good, if he drowned first. And yet, they catch an abundance of fish that they had never seen before. 

But fish isn’t Jesus purpose. Jesus has so much more in mind for Simon… And though Simon doesn’t feel worthy, Jesus speaks the words that angels have spoken to those being called by God into something new, time and time again, “Do not be afraid.”

Along with Simon, Jesus is calling us out to the deep water today. And today, that call seems as crazy to us as it did to Simon, who knew better than to go far from the shore. And yet, God is doing something totally unexpected. Something that does not make sense to us. God calls us to die. God calls us to die in the waters of Baptism… but the call does not stop in death. God also calls us out of our ruts, out of our routines, out of the water, out of death and into life.

To a people stuck in the ruts, in the routine of what is safe and known, Christ’s call to risk everything in the deep water seems like too much to ask. But there in the deep water, Christ is giving us life. Life in the form of fish for fisherman with nothing, and today, life for communities contending with far too much sickness and death, life for people who are feeling caged up and alone.  

Out in those deep waters God calls to us from those first promises made to us at the font “By the baptism of his own death and resurrection, [God’s] beloved Son has set us free from the bondage to sin and death, and has opened the way to the joy and freedom of everlasting life”. Out of death, God brings life. Out of drowning in the deep waters of baptism, God forces the breath of life back into our lungs and joins us into a community of newly alive people.

Certainly our instinct is to resist this call, to push back against the dangers that we think we see and feel in the unknown, in the loss that we believe will come with giving something of ourselves. 

But like with Simon, Jesus says, “Do not be afraid.”

Because we do not follow this call alone. We do not go out into the deep waters alone. We are not in this boat called the church all alone. Jesus is with us in the boat and Jesus has much bigger purposes for us. Jesus is preparing us things that entirely new. 

We don’t know what is far from shore, what is out in the deep water, but Jesus does. Jesus knows where we need to go, and what path we need to follow. Jesus knows what must be done for the sake of a hungry and dying world. 

So no, this story today is not a quaint story about a little boat ride and catching fish. It is about the fear and uncertainty that come with following Jesus, with stepping out of what is comfortable and known, of being willing to risk, to be uncomfortable, to give of ourselves. 

But it also the story that always comes after, “Do not be afraid.” 

It is the surprising story of God’s surprising abundance given for us, nets full of fish, salvation found in the waters of our baptism, new opportunities out in the deep water. 

It is about following God’s call into unknown AND of God’s promise that wherever we God, Jesus is in this upside down boat with us. 

February Blahs – Pastor Thoughts

Well, what a week!

The world is a topsy-turvy turmoil these days. 

The freedom convoy rolled through town at the end of the week last week and then made its way to Ottawa, where protestors have taken up residence tormenting the poor folks living there in the name of some misguided sense of freedom. 

One of our nation’s political leaders lost his job, but not the one most were thinking of. 

Manitoba’s government is planning for the pandemic to be over in a few months, regardless of what doctors say.

A large apartment building burned down on our street (but not that close to us). 

The Winter Olympics have begun! 

And the Winnipeg Jets can’t stop losing while my Edmonton Oilers ended a long losing streak of their own with winning a streak!

Did I catch you up on the all the news?

Oh, and as you read this you might have just been digging out your driveway full of another snowfall. (I finally broke down and bought a snowblower 3 weeks ago…)

Also, I have a 26 day streak in Wordle going so far! 

There seems to be a lot going on these days, in the news, on the TV, in pop culture, in politics and more. 

Yet, even with all of that going on, I cannot help but feel the February blahs. Maybe you feel it too. All the positive steps towards a new “post-pandemic” way of life came crashing to a halt at Christmas, and since then it is has been hard to re-engage. I am looking forward to when we can gather again. I am looking forward to walking through the journey of faith with you. I am looking forward to the future. But these past weeks have felt like a deja vu of March/April 2020 but without the sourdough starters, family puzzle time and sense of coming together to support healthcare workers.

At our zoom clergy gathering this week, of all the things to be worried about, my colleagues were most concerned about tired and disengaging members. We were most concerned about our own tiredness and disengagement. 

But there was one thing that lifted my spirits in an unexpected way this week. My annual report. Yes, seriously, writing my annual report. As I read my report on 2020 and then reflected on all that came to pass in 2021, it turned out that this past year in ministry was better than imagined:

  • We came together and created incredible worship despite difficult circumstances. 
  • We gathered in-person for worship many times and shared in Baptism, Confirmation and the Lord’s Supper
  • We delivered sermons to shut-ins and seniors 
  • We started some family ministry events
  • We had 4 sessions with small groups
  • We hosted programs and events for youth as young as grade 3 all the way to young adult
  • We started a committee to call all the members of the congregation 
  • We started a meal team for The Urban
  • We had the choir sing and musicians play
  • We made the Free Press, the Globe and Mail and were featured on CBC, CTV and City News!

I know there was even more than that behind the scenes or things that I am forgetting. 

But somehow in the midst of all the struggle we have endured, we actually did an incredible amount of new and exciting things. I was reminded of the incredible ministry that we have strived to do together, despite all the odds. 

Of all the things that have been seemingly bringing me down lately (except that Oilers winning streak!), reviewing what we had done together this past year lifted my spirits tremendously.

But more importantly, they reminded me just how the Spirit has been at work among us. God has been doing unexpected and amazing things in our community. And by the Holy Spirit’s leading, we have been making a difference in our world. That hardly seems possible when I think of all the obstacles in our way. 

I am so grateful for all of you. I am grateful for the ways in which so many have stepped back to keep each other safe, and have stepped forward to lead and drive our ministry. And most of all, I am grateful to be able to see that despite the obstacles that appear before us, God has been leading us in new ways to new life!

Essential Workers, Freedom Convoys and Living on the Edge – Pastor Thoughts

As I write to you this week, I am sitting listening to CBC Radio’s The Current and their discussion on essential workers in Canada. Guests from a variety of sectors are sharing their stories of working during the pandemic: health-care workers, long-term care, grocery stores, food delivery, education and so on. Many are talking about the appreciation and pay increases they received during the early months of the pandemic, and how those had mostly disappeared by the summer of 2020. At the same time, many employers took the opportunity to increase responsibilities and duties, to work in unsafe circumstances, to continue to work while sick, to suffer through threats of job loss and so on. 

At the same time, it has been hard this week to ignore all the news reports about the “Freedom Convoy” that is rolling across the nation in protest of vaccination mandates for cross-boarder truckers. 

Add explosive numbers of Omicron cases that may or may not be flatlining (we just cannot keep track) and inflation not seen in decades, and we can see that we are being squeezed as a society. 

This week in my sermon, I talk about how edgy we are these days. Quick to become frustrated and angry with those around us. 

The lofty visions of getting through this pandemic together that we held onto back at the beginning, are giving way to pulling back, looking out for number one and venting our frustrations with our neighbours. 

All these things, all these parts of life that show us just how little control we have over world are hard to take day-in day-out. Of course that is certain point of privilege, as the vast majority of human beings in history have lived under oppression, during wars and famines, pandemics and conflicts. 

But we are not used to this life. We have become accustomed to lives that are our mostly our own, and that we only share with our neighbour when it suits us. We have not known what it means to be beholden to our neighbour and vulnerable to the world every time we step outside our homes.

You can probably guess that I would support things like Universal Basic Income and a higher minimum wage, especially for essential worker who have endured so much. 

You can probably also guess my feelings about the Freedom Convoy (it is a waste of time and money, and only serves as a populist front for a White Nationalist agenda). 

Regardless, I think there is connection between what our essential workers are feeling and what those who support the Freedom convoy are feeling. What we are all feeling these days. 

The squeeze is on and it is revealing something broken in the world. The rich are getting richer, the poor poorer and we are all becoming more vulnerable. Life doesn’t need to be so hard, so many don’t need to struggle to make ends meet. 

When people are squeezed enough, things tend to go sideways in societies. Protests (we are seeing those), violent protests (we can imagine those soon), revolts (January 6th, 2021 Capitol Hill attack) and revolutions. I wish I could say we will turn it around before it gets too bad, but the cycle of history suggests we won’t. 

So what does this depressing situation mean for us, for people of faith?

The Church has born witness to the rise and fall of empires and kingdoms. The Church has walked beside the poor and oppressed in times of struggle, and called powerful to account. 

But most importantly, the church has done what is has always done. We have continued to tell the story of Jesus, we have continued to preach the alternate vision of creation rooted in the Kingdom of God. 

We know that what is going on around isn’t the way things are supposed to be. We have a name for all the troubles – original sin. The reality that human beings have never and will never bring about paradise… we are only good are ruining it. 

But thankfully we also have this promise from God, that our version of the world is not the final one. Instead, God promises a new creation. A world where all belong, where all have enough, where all are welcome. 

That promise, that vision is what we need these days, it is what the world needs. So we will continue to do what we have always done. We will keep telling the story of God, keep proclaiming the coming of Messiah, keep sharing God’s promises and visions for the world. 

Slowing Down for the Spirit

Luke 4:14-21
Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

A star that guides the Magi from the East to the Christ child. 

A voice like Thunder that declares “You are my beloved Son”

Water turned into abundant flowing wine to gladden a wedding celebration. 

We have been witnesses to big, bold and exciting events the past few weeks. We have seen God pulling back the veil between heaven and earth to show us that Jesus, that God is flesh, is near. The grandness of these stories makes us certain of God’s presence in the world. 

And as we have witnessed the divine spectacle this season after Epiphany, we have become accustomed to these kinds of signs. We see God interjecting the divine into the lives of everyday people, and we anticipate that God will do the same with us. 

But today, there doesn’t seem to be any flashy sign or action to accompany Jesus. Today is different. Luke tells us a story in a more pedestrian style, a seemingly casual and low-key vignette of Jesus’ ministry. 

Today, Jesus does only what is expected of any Jewish man in the synagogue. No miracles or signs of power. Jesus simply reads from the scroll of the prophets and then provides explanation. It should feel almost normal, it should remind us of the same worship that is our custom as well.  

We return to Luke’s Gospel, after a detour in John’s Gospel last week for the wedding at Cana and the pace of the action slows. The story is one of subtle details. 

Jesus has been preaching and teaching in Galilee. Reports of him have spreading, he is coming to be regarded as a well known teacher, a traveling Rabbi. And with news spreading, Jesus arrives in his hometown of Nazareth. 

Jesus goes to the synagogue on the sabbath, as was his custom. Jesus is not only a regular worship attender, it is clear that in the synagogues is where he is getting his message out, where he is making his ministry known.

Yet still, it was possible for any Jewish man to be asked to read from the Tanahk, the Hebrew Bible. However, as a wondering preacher, the people likely expected this hometown son to now preach for the folks who knew him as a kid. Jesus stands to read and is given the scroll of the prophets. Jesus makes is way through the scroll and chooses a familiar passage, from what we now call Isaiah 61. 

Luke brings us right down to the moment by moment details. Compared to the drama of voices from heaven and surprising good tasting abundant wine, Luke adds tension in the slowness of motion. Once Jesus has concluded the reading, he rolls up the scroll… He hands the scroll to the attendant… Jesus sits down and prepares himself to teach… The whole synagogue is waiting for what Jesus is going to say… All eyes are trained on Jesus…. 

(Pause)

In these past weeks, our story has slowed down as well to moment by moment details. Our world had finally begun to expand from summer on last year, we began to imagine a bigger and brighter future. But then the pandemic found a way to squeeze us again. We have been scaled back and pared down, and yet we wait with bated breath for when this latest wave may end and there will be signs of life renewed. 

It is hard for even one day to go by and for us not to see how our world needs signs of hope. The poor need good news, the captives need releasing, the blind need sight, the oppressed need freedom. We cannot help but be bombarded by a world in desperate need wherever we look, whether it is here in Winnipeg or far away on the other side of the planet. 

As Jesus reads from Isaiah, the people that he was reading to longed for good news, for release, for healing and freedom. It is a longing that has lasted throughout all of human history. 

And as we long for change, we begin to load God with expectations. We hear Jesus speak of good news for the poor but we long for riches. We see the captives that need releasing but we long to be released from any and all obligations we might carry for our neighbour. We heard of sight for the blind but we want every ache and pain, every experience of discomfort to taken away from us. We imagine the oppressed being freed, but we desire being given control, being the ones who have the power to make decisions and be in charge. 

It is so very easy for our longing for justice to turn into an expectation for results. We want our prayers to be heard and answered, and we are disappointed with God when they are not. Our sinful, selfish nature makes us turn hope for justice and peace into a sense of entitlement. Entitlement to God’s acts of power, entitlement to control of God’s blessing.  

We hear Jesus declare this new and hopeful reality, and we cannot help but imagine what we are going to get out of it. We cannot help but put ourselves first and imagine the world according to our own vision and our own image. 

(Pause)

But today, it is in the details that Jesus is pointing us to something much bigger than our expectations and desires. Luke slows down the pace so that we can hear the details, so that we hear the words of God anew, stirring deep within creation, stirring deep within the Church, stirring deep within us. 

The very first words that Luke puts in our ears: Jesus, filled with the power of the spirit. 

Though this feels like a slowed down smaller story than the Magi following the star, the voice thundering over the baptismal waters, the blessing of the wedding with good wine… We are meant to connect this moment in the local synagogue with the building movement of the spirit that has brought us here through this season. 

And the Luke draws us back to the spirit again:

“The Spirit of the Lord has named me the Christ. 

The Christ who evangelizes and brings the gospel to the poor.

The apostle who releases the captives and heals the blind and sets the oppressed free. 

The preacher who declares the year of the Lord’s grace and mercy.”

In these simple words of scripture Jesus describes a new reality. Not a new reality based on our wants and desires. A new reality grounded in the incarnation, in the God who speaks these words out loud and in our hearing. A reality grounded in the God who brings these words to life in our midst. Who makes the words real right before our eyes. 

As the people of the Nazareth Synagogue sit waiting expectantly for Jesus to interpret the meaning the Prophets words for them, Jesus has only a brief and simple sermon. 

“Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing”. 

Today, these words from the prophet have come to realization. Today, the anointed one, the saviour, the Christ has become present in flesh. Today, the God of the poor, of captives, the blind, the oppressed is here. The work of God in the world is now. 

The same spirit that led the Magi, that spoke like thunder, that provided the abundance of wine… this same spirit in Nazareth, at the synagogue, announcing to all that Jesus is the Messiah. The anointed one. The saviour of Israel. Even in this small and slowed down and familiar moment, Jesus is subtly but surely making God’s presence known. God is not far away, but here. God is with us even in our smallness, with us even in our isolation, with us in our illness and struggling, with us even when we feel abandoned and alone. 

Jesus not only announces the work of God in the world, but lays a foundation for us. For the Church. The Body of Christ proclaiming the gospel and caring for the poor. The Apostles of Christ releasing the captives and giving them a home. The Church giving sight to the blind, freeing the oppressed. People of faith preaching God’s love for the world.

Today, Jesus simply and straight forwardly announces the mission of Christ. Of the Christ who is among us in Word, Water, Bread and Wine. The Christ who IS us, we who ARE the Christ in the world, washing and feeding and loving a world in need of hope. 

We arrived today having just heard and witnessed the bigness of God:

A star that guides the Magi from the East to the Christ child. 

A voice like Thunder that declares “You are my beloved Son”

Water turned into abundant flowing wine to gladden a wedding celebration.

And we add to that list today: 

A simple sermon, preached in a small synagogue to people of faith waiting for good news. 

These are all signs of God’s presence in a world in need. 

Yet today, fulfilled and realized in our hearing, 

with all eyes fixed upon Jesus, 

despite our desire to put ourselves first and get what we selfishly desire, 

The anointed one who is working for justice and peace among us, 

The Christ speaks God’s word and declares that God is at work here, 

working in us, 

right now. 

Amen. 

Leaning into the Rhythms and Patterns – Pastor Thoughts

Way back in March 2020, on the 18th  or 19th I think, I received a text from my family in Edmonton that a close contact of theirs had tested positive for COVID. Within days, my family had also tested positive. Shortly thereafter, my parents and sister endured a rough couple of weeks with COVID-19. They have subsequently been dealing with some long-Covid symptoms that still linger almost two years on. 

Those first few weeks of the pandemic were punctuated by the terrifying news reports, scenes of lockdowns in Italy, and growing cases in New York City…all alongside cheers and banging pots for healthcare workers at shift-change, sourdough starters and family puzzle time. But for me and my family, they also included worried texts and phone calls to family, constantly checking in every few hours. 

At that time, knowing someone who had COVID-19 was fairly uncommon. But hearing the daily struggle from people I cared about and loved impacted me deeply. It has coloured my approach and view of this pandemic. It is one of the reasons I have been outspoken about our need to care for each other and do what we can to keep our community safe. 

Of all the devastating waves of COVID-19 so far, it has only been in this month that I have been hearing about friends, colleagues and neighbours being sick. Some part of me expected April 2020 to be like this. 

Thankfully in January of 2022 most of us have been vaccinated – I was able to get my six month booster this week, exactly 6 months to the day from my 2nd dose. My kids will get their second doses of the vaccine on the 8-week mark from their first dose. And we have been illness free – at least we think – but this Omicron variant has a high level of asymptomatic or extremely mild cases. So the news about cases happening seemingly all around, is not quite as concerning as it would have been earlier on in the pandemic.

Still, here we are anticipating being exposed to the virus that we have spent nearly two years trying to avoid. Even after all we have endured during these trying years, it was hard even 5 weeks ago to imagine that this is where we would be. 

I have been thinking about what this change in circumstances will mean for us – as individuals and families, as a community and a congregation, as province and nation. I think most of us were ready for the pandemic to wind down. Wishfully some seem to think that Omicron will be the last wave, but I don’t think that it is likely. 

Instead, I think we might see a time where we live in a pattern of waves. Peaks and troughs as waves of new variants sweep through (there is already a Delta+Omicron variant called ‘Deltacron’). Vaccines will be updated as they are with flus, and I suspect that none of us will have rolled up our sleeves for the final time. I think we could live through patterns where we increase our activity in the troughs of the waves and pull back during the peaks. How our government and public health officials manage this is for another article. 

But as we come into the season after Epiphany, I am mindful that as a community of faith, we know something about living through patterns. We know what it means to ramp up our activity at certain times, to pull back at others. We know what it is like to live our lives governed by patterns that change us and what we do. 

The scriptures are full of patterns. The 7 days of creation that is the template for our 7 weekly habit of fathering for worship on the Lord’s day. Our pattern of daily prayer (usually observed by monks and nuns): morning, evening and night prayer rooted in the psalms.

The church governs our time and seasons with patterns and rhythms. Our calendar that builds from Advent to Christmas, pulls back again after Epiphany, and then marches us through Lent, preparing for Easter. Then we pull back through the long season of green after Pentecost and begin our building again by Thanksgiving, Reformation, All Saints and Christ the King.  

And as Christians, we know that these patterns help us to tell and re-tell the story of Jesus’ life and ministry. They form and shape us as people and as a community. They remind us that in the midst of all the other things of life, that God’s story is beside us. That God is with us along the way, informing and interpreting our experiences, relationships, hopes, dreams and fears. 

As this pandemic begins to form patterns and shapes that dictate how we live, we already know how to do this as people of faith. God has prepared us to live according to rhythms that change and adapt us as we go. 

But we also know that whatever life throws at us, whatever struggles or hardships are placed upon us, that God and God’s story goes along with us. And that God’s story is one of forgiveness, mercy and grace. God’s story is one of New Life even when surrounded by suffering and death. 

And God has a way of turning our story into God’s story, our living and our dying, into the abundant New Life found in Christ.