Tag Archives: Church

The Apocalypse of John the Baptizer’s Community

You may have noticed that for a few weeks now, the titles of my weekly reflections have had mention of Apocalypse in them. You may be thinking that I am starting to sound like one of those Hellfire and Brimstone types. Maybe that is true. However, unlike in the movies, Apocalypse biblically carries a different definition than just the end of the world. Apocalypse comes from the Greek meaning ‘uncovering’ or ‘revealing.’ Apocalyptic literature speaks to the revealing of God’s plan or designs for the world or God’s intention to make right. This lands at the heart of created existence, where this ‘making right’ is contested or in a state of conflict. The Apocalypse or revealing is where God’s Kingdom coming to make the world righteous is in conflict with the powers of sin, death and the devil – forces that we experience in this world that are in opposition to God’s great love for us. 

Phew…

With that understanding of Apocalypse, we pick up with John the Baptist. Who is speaking to the crowds who have come out into the wilderness to hear him and be baptized for repentance and the forgiveness of sins. This follows with the long history of Israel seeking out prophets sent by God in times of crisis and seeking to repent of the ways in which God’s people have turned away from God. John is standing in a role they know and can identify from the Scriptures, and they are seeking to repent just as good people of faith should. 

Yet, they don’t quite get there. John isn’t just preaching repentance like the prophets of old. He is also preaching the coming of another, a Messiah. 

The crowd responds peculiarly. They ask John, “What then should we do?”

They ask this three times: “What should we do?”

In a time of crisis, when the world feels like everything is falling down around them, when the powers are threatening to crush them, when the future feels terribly uncertain, they want to know what they can do. Each of John’s answers is unsatisfying. 

Sounds familiar doesn’t it?

In a time of great uncovering and revealing the deep and uncomfortable truths at the heart of our existence, the apocalyptic conflict between God’s making right and the powers of sin, death and the devil that we can feel palpable in our world… the answers to our wonderings of, “what should we do?” have proven equally unsatisfying.

Maybe that is the point. It seems to be John’s point. Maybe what we need to do isn’t the chief issue. In this moment of Apocalypse, what we do just might be secondary to our salvation. The uncovering of what is really happening to us as God’s people is still in process, still being made known to us. But as we turn to the second half of Advent, I am sure it has something to do with the One we are waiting for, the One who is coming. 

The Messiah is on the way. 

Waiting for the Apocalyptic Kingdom

We have arrived at Christ the King Sunday. This is the end of the liturgical year, which means we have made our way through the stories of Jesus’ birth, journey to Jerusalem, death and resurrection as told by the season of Advent through Easter. We have also made it through Jesus’ teaching and ministry as told by the Gospel of Mark. 

Altogether, these two parts of the liturgical year serve to create a narrative that takes us through the story of Jesus each year. 

There is another piece to this journey, however. This liturgical move is more than one that moves us from one year to the next. The move we make in our calendars and in our Sunday worship shows us a glimpse of the much larger scale movement that is happening all around us. 

Christ the King Sunday, or perhaps more accurately, the Reign of Christ Sunday, lifts the Apocalyptic veil on our world. No, not an apocalypse like the movies imagine with zombies, nuclear war, environmental catastrophe, or exorcist priests fighting demons.

Rather, the Apocalypse as the Biblical Narrative imagines it, the one that we have had in the background in this year of reading Mark, and perhaps in the background of pandemics, wars in Ukraine and Gaza, the election of populist leaders that are tracking to fascism. Apocalypse hardly seems like the thing of movies and novels these days, it is out there in the world. 

The Apocalypse that the Bible imagines is one that is rooted in the conflict between the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of Sin, Death and the Devil. On Christ the King Sunday we are equally concerned with the fact that the Kingdom of God has entered the battle plains of this world with the intention of striving against those forces that would defy the One who holds all creation and us within God as we are with Christ’s Kingship. 

This is the work of God’s Kingdom in the world, to push back against all those forces that cause suffering and death, the forces of systematic sin and evil that cause oppression and enslave us.

But God’s Kingdom’s work is not the one of military might or political and economic power.  Rather, it is accomplished on the cross, in the one who takes our sin and death to the grave while exchanging with us the gifts of forgiveness, righteousness and life. The Kingdom’s work is to meet the powers of this world with the reconciling mercy of God, with true Kingdom power that can transform this world for the better. 

On the Christ the King Sunday, we prepare for the Apocalypse of Biblical proportions to come – for it to flip us over into the Advent of God’s new world, where we will be new creations. 

Giving thanks over the years – Pastor Thoughts

I don’t think I could have ever imagined feeling this way, but I could have used a little more September this year. Between the program year ramping up, my foolishness in agreeing to a few too many things, the kid’s school year and activities starting and my coursework ramping up, it has felt like a busy few weeks. Thanksgiving should not be here this soon; I thought there was more time! 

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving felt like it was deep into the school year. Summer was already a distant memory, while Halloween was still three weeks away! Now, all that feels like it passes in the blink of an eye. 

Thanksgiving, like all holidays or holy days, comes at us differently at different times in our lives. When I was young, Thanksgiving weekend often felt like a great long break to eat lots of turkey and have an extra glorious day off from school before the snow arrived. For those with grandkids and large extended families, these important holiday events feel like touchstones yet provide fleeting opportunities to spend time with loved ones, chances to make memories, and opportunities to invest in what matters. For those of us in middle age, millennials are now middle-aged! – these holidays feel frantic managing kids, work schedules, social calendars, volunteer responsibilities and extended family obligations. Of course, there are those for whom Thanksgiving may be lonely or difficult and might be grief-filled with a notable spot at the table now empty. 

Ever since seminary, when in the course of learning theology, biblical studies, biblical Greek, and liturgy, we were taught that the word Eucharist means ‘thanksgiving,’ my brain always conflates the Great Thanksgiving that is a part of each worship service with communion and the holiday of Thanksgiving. I have started to see Thanksgiving weekend in Eucharistic terms – imagining this weekend around the second Monday in October as a time when Canadians practice Eucharist in our homes with family, friends and community. Thanksgiving tables aren’t necessarily the same as the Lord’s table that we gather around in worship. They are not public tables of welcome where we encounter the true presence of Christ as the Lord’s table is. But they are gatherings with a Eucharistic quality where often a motley collection of people gather together to share a meal and wind up somehow bound together into a new community in the process. The yearly gatherings are small reminders of the kind of community that we joined each Sunday around the Lord’s supper. 

So pay attention to who you eat with this weekend, know that you are joined to a new community of Eucharist and Thanksgiving. 

Redefining ministry in 2024 – Pastor Thoughts

This week (for Sunday October 6th), the gospel of Mark covers an uncomfortable passage about divorce, where Jesus gives no reason that makes divorce palatable. The passage certainly feels like divine judgment hurled on something pretty common in our world (if you want to know why Jesus’ comments on divorce meant something very different than we may think, see this sermon from 2021). Whatever Jesus might actually be saying about divorce, the bigger question might be about the place of faith and religion in our world. There is the general question about the secularity of our North American culture but also the place and input that our faith has in our lives. 

It is a question that I have been circling for the past month or so. Topics that have to do with faith in society and the church in the world include colonialism, Christian identity, how we talk among ourselves and others about the Church and so on. The question at the heart of my doctoral research is grounded in how we understand the role of Christian ministry in our lives.

On the surface, my research is asking about how people understand the work of clergy and the expectations out there that are placed on clergy. Deeper down, this is about exploring the place of Christian ministry in the world, as the work of clergy is done, along with, and equipping lay folks to be the hands and feet of the Church in the world. This, in turn, means digging into how contemporary Christians understand ministry and our collective work of ministry as the Church. 

Perhaps more simply put, asking people what they think the job of a pastor is has to do with how we understand all of our roles in the work of ministry. 

Answering this question is interconnected with another question facing many churches, including Sherwood Park, these days: What is our place and purpose in the world around us?

Like my research question, discerning our place and purpose in the world is a multifaceted question. There are lots of ways to begin answering it and lots of pieces that impact how we answer. What are we called to do and be as a community of faith in this time and place? Do we have the resources we need to carry out this ministry? Are there possible ministry partners around us with whom we can do more together than alone? What would happen if we didn’t carry out this ministry here? What would be lost? How can we change to faithfully entrust the legacy of our ministry to the next generation and into the future?

These questions take time to sort out. To answer them well as congregations requires us to put on the hats of researchers exploring all avenues of wondering, not knowing what answers might be out there. It isn’t easy to ask these questions because we aren’t used to the circumstances that we are in. Even if the Church has taken a few decades to slide into this situation, it feels new and uncertain and nothing like the version of being church that we know. All the things that we are talking about these days are not the things that pastors and church folks talked about in the past… at least that is not what I remember. 

But on the longer time scale of the history of Christianity, questions about our place and purpose in the world are not new. The Apostle Paul addresses these questions frequently in his letters. The early Church had to deal with similar questions as it navigated living in the Roman Empire. The Reformers had to reinterpret the Church’s place in the world during the Reformation. Today, we are being called into another moment to ask this question – What is our place and purpose in the world?

Photo: The modern chancel set into St. Mary Cathedral in Erfurt, Germany founded in 724 CE.

Canadian Lutherans and Colonialism – Pastor Thoughts

Monday, September 30th was the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, where we remember those Indigenous children and families who were victims of and affected by Canada’s Indian Residential School system. This year, there were orange shirts around that weekend, as September 30th is also called “Orange Shirt Day.” 

As Lutherans, we are a church body whose origins are European; we carry with us a connection to the history of colonialism. Yet, as ELCIC Lutherans in Canada, we also carry with us a history distinct from that of other White-European churches, such as the Anglican, Roman Catholics and United Churches. While Lutherans have had a presence in parts of North America since the 16th Century, they were mostly in the US’s original thirteen colonies. Martin Luther came onto the scene decades after Columbus sailed the ocean blue, meaning there weren’t enough Lutherans to start spreading around until the 1600s. 

In the case of most churches and congregations that belong to the ELCIC, our oldest congregations are relatively young, started by our grandparents or great-grandparents in the last one hundred to one hundred fifty years. In the case of Canada’s residential school period, most Lutherans were considered immigrants and outsiders by the church bodies (Anglican, Roman Catholic, United) that were running the schools. 

So what is our connection to colonialism? We were not necessarily part of the institutions that were the core of the colonial project in Canada (the British and French empires), but we are part of the White European ethos by proxy. In the height of the colonial era (the late 1700s through 1800s), Europeans were colonizing all over the world, bringing their ways of life, culture and beliefs to nearly every corner of the globe. Europeans engaged in colonialism in Africa, the Middle East, Asia, North and South America during this time. This was the time when that saying, “the sun never sets on the British Empire” came into being.

At the core, colonialism was based on the idea that White European ways of life, culture and spirituality were the right and best ways for humans to live. This idea continues to propagate itself even as we now try to reconcile our colonial history. 

Colonialism is why Canada had “Indian Residential Schools” to ostensibly “remove the savage from the child.” It is why we forced our religious practices and culture on indigenous peoples and often declared that other ways of living, other cultures, and other ways of believing in God were inferior and wrong. 

As Lutherans in Canada, we have kind of sneaked into the back door of colonialism, going from being seen as immigrants considered outsiders for a lot of the last century and a half to trying to lump ourselves in with other White European descent church bodies at precisely at the wrong time. We didn’t have an institutional stake in colonialism, yet we are somewhat a part of the group that colonialism declared to be the right way – as long as we seemed, in Canada’s case, European, White and Christian enough. 

In this week’s gospel, the disciples are worried about others who are healing in Jesus’ name. They are worried that these “others” are not doing things the right way. Jesus reminds them that the work of the Kingdom of God happens in so many more ways than they can imagine. 

Unfortunately, that message didn’t get through to colonial empires. But, as we seek to dismantle and reconcile the structures and worldviews of colonialism that still exist in our world today, we can remember this message: God might be at work in places and ways we have not conceived of yet. We are called as people of faith to the important work of truth and reconciliation, even from our unusual position as Lutherans in Canada.