sunday WORSHIP

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 Inspired by Luke 24:1-12

“This, I believe, is the real danger of our time. Not anger. Not sorrow. But detachment. A giving up. A slow surrender to disconnection.”

These words were shared in a post by our Executive Minister at the Pacific Mountain Regional Council Office, Treena Duncan, in a post last Thursday. She is speaking about the numbness that can become a human condition, when there is just too much for us to cope with. 

We all have a limited amount of coping power, and when that is exhausted, we can become detached from the world. Treena believes that is happening now; to many of us in Canada, many in our churches, and many in our communities.[1] We are well and truly stuck in the doldrums. And between tariffs, counter-tariffs, and rhetoric about our possible annexation with the US, many off us have gone past anger to fear. And fear numbs our consciousness.

Fear is not a good place to be. Fear keeps us off balance. Fear lowers our resilience. Fear promotes disengagement, anxiety and depression. Fear is why Peter denied Jesus three times. Fear is what Jesus’ crucifixion was all about. Fear tried to tell the disciples what would happen to them if they followed Jesus. Fear was the Roman trump card, “look what we will do if you step out of line.” And, for good reason, I think fear is where a lot of us are today. 

In response to being fearful, we are likely to become more and more detached from things that can renew our spirit and keep us hopeful. Easter offers us an opportunity for optimism and confidence. Easter can foster courage in our lives. 

In her message Treena wrote, “Easter comes not only as a celebration—but as a call. A call to reengage. To feel again. To hope again. To risk joy again. Because Christ is risen—not only in the bright places, but in the broken ones too. And that resurrection promise pulls us toward life.” 

I wrote an article to the local paper the other day that some you may have seen. One of the things I mentioned is that I see resurrection every day. I don’t see it in the effigy of Christ clothed in brilliant light, but in Christ’s presence within and among us. That presence is the personification of the tenacity of the human spirit. It is the determination to go through and past the pain and anguish, in the belief that something new and better will prevail. It is the resolve to “stay the course” despite the hardships, pitfalls and disappointments. And most difficult of all, it is the conviction that we must move forward through sorrow and grief. We need to move past our fear to do that. 

That doesn’t in any way mean to diminish or trivialize the real fears that haunt us on a daily basis. The fear someone we love may suffer a life altering illness or accident. The fear that we might lose employment or savings. The growing fear of what might happen to Canada under the existing US Administration. The fear of facing our own death.

We read that Jesus didn’t fear death. His death was predicted, and he was prepared for it. However, I can’t imagine even Jesus, in his humanity, not being fearful of the physical pain that he would endure at the hands of the Romans.

We can’t shut off our fear response. Fear is a natural human reaction to something in the environment that we know might harm us. Fear serves us well in many cases. 

But living in fear is another matter. That is debilitating, unnerving, and unhealthy. That was exactly the Roman’s plan in Jesus’ time. Keep everyone fearful and stay in control. Unfortunately for them it didn’t last. Soon a groundswell of Jesus followers would peek out from behind closed shutters. They would meet in secret. Eventually they would gain confidence and speak out. Fear was cast aside, and Jesus would be resurrected once more.

That is the story we must remember and retell this Easter Day. In spite of those that would want to control the world through fear, we must rally and live the Jesus story. 

To share once more from our Executive Minister’s Easter message, Treena urges, “This year, I pray that we don’t skip past the sorrow. That we don’t deny the wilderness we’ve walked. But that we also don’t stay there. Because Easter invites us to a deeper joy—one that isn’t shallow or performative but rooted in the whole story. A joy that’s been cracked open by grief. A joy that sings because it has wept.[2]”  

Easter morning some years ago a great tragedy was righted, a miracle occurred. Through tears of shock at the betrayal and loss of their mentor and friend, the women who had arrived at the tomb received a great gift, hope. Jesus’ body was not there. The crazy, impossible truth, “He is not here but has risen.”[d] Joy filled their hearts and they ran as fast as they could to tell the others. 

And since that time millions of us have believed in the truth of that story. It has been the mantra of generations. Those that have lived through two world wars, and those who are unjustly sacrificial pawns in the conflicts between ego driven world leaders now. The impoverished whom toil endlessly to fuel the desires of the wealthy. The refugees that cling to the tiniest of hopes of a new beginning for their families. 

 Today migrants go to sleep fearing deportation. Same sex couples fear imprisonment. Women in some countries fear arrest, detainment and beating because they say no to male dominance. Individuals and families fear they will not have enough to eat. The unhoused fear sleeping in the cold, the addicted fearful of a tainted injection. 

There are many who live through fear, it is rampant, possibly as much today as it has ever been. That, at least in part, is why the Easter message is so vital. 

The hope by some that goodness, kindness and generosity could be silenced by fear failed. Those who believed they were in total control would be surprised. The manipulators, coercers and the corrupt would some day be held accountable. 

That has to be our story this Easter day. Truth rises from the tomb. Love is renewed. Hope walks away from the grasp of those that would silence it. 

Joy rose with the dawn that Easter morning long ago. Joy visits us this day and we are resurrected past our fear into great hope.

Thanks for listening today.

Amen

[1] Treena Duncan, Executive Minister, Pacific Mountain Regional Council, personal email, April 17, 2025

[2] Treena Duncan, Executive Minister, Pacific Mountain Regional Council, personal email, April 17, 2025

  Inspired By: Luke 19:28-40

We say things like, “that’s a no-brainer,” “that is a plain as the nose on his face.” One of my favourites from a former colleague - “that is intuitively obvious.” Those are comments we make when the expected response or action is abundantly clear. Any alternate response would just be inconceivable.

It was inconceivable that afternoon at Riverside Park in Kamloops when Rick Hansen came through on his “Man in Motion” tour. It was inconceivable that the gathered crowd would just give him a nod or a wave. No, everyone was ecstatic. Applauds and cheers and shout outs, “way to go Rick.” The man who had crossed the globe in his wheel chair demonstrating the potential of people with disabilities, had become a celebrity, a house hold word. And he was in our midst. Had it been appropriate I would have run out from behind the roped off area and tried to shake his hand. 

The crowd gathered to greet Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem were ecstatic too. Can you imagine the excitement? He was real! The man everyone had been talking about was right there in front of them. Were the stories about his healing powers true? Could he raise someone from the dead? Was he really the chosen one who would bring peace and order to the people and free them from bondage? I’m sure many reached out to Jesus on that colt trying at least to touch his clothing. I would have. If there were reporters in those days, he would have been inundated.

And yet some of the Pharisees called out to him asking that he stop his disciples. “Stop the procession. Stop this celebration. This is not the time and place for a party!” 

The Pharisees, the more conservative Jewish religious sect, had clashed with Jesus before. Was this another of their objections? “You defame God coming here getting all this attention. Who do you think you are?” Or were they possibly worried about his safety? The text says, “some of”, not all of the Pharisees. It could have been that perhaps they were concerned about the response of the Roman authorities to his arrival. Maybe they were worried that violence would break out. 

Whatever the reason, in wonderful metaphor Jesus responds, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

“I can’t possibly stop it even if I wanted to. In my coming the people see possibility. They see truth in what has been predicted. They see harmony once again. They see freedom from their constant oppression. They see the coming of justice and equity. The people have been imprisoned far too long. They want to live in peace, a peace that the emperor does not understand. No, I cannot stop the celebration. I cannot stop God from being with the people. If I did the very stones beneath our feet would cry out in objection.”

This is a truth, “too good to have its mouth shut” says Stephen Shoemaker.[1] That is a brilliant comment. Along with Jesus rides God the liberator, God who delivers hope even to the hopeless, God who brings unconditional love to all who are open to receive it. That is a truth that cannot be silenced.

No, one cannot stop the kind of hope that Jesus brought that day. And I would venture to say that we cannot stop the kind of hope Jesus brings today either. Regardless of what might be predicted through the chaos of our times, the possibility of birthing something new, something profoundly better, is the truth that Jesus offers still right now, in this moment.

God spoke through Jesus those many years ago and speaks to us again today. We experience the excitement of Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem when we acknowledge that the dream never dies. Jesus could not quell the crowd. Rick Hansen could not stop us from cheering and clapping. That would be like trying to stop a volcano when it is about to erupt. 

No, the horse has left the stable, the die has been cast, the toothpaste is out of the tube. We can’t go backwards. Jesus is here and Jesus will stay with us.

Many do think otherwise and give into becoming complacent. “Our destiny is beyond our control they say, we don’t have the capacity to encourage change. Why waste our energy on pointless tasks? The outcomes are predetermined. Let’s just do our own thing, worry about ourselves and our families, keep our noses clean and mind our own business.” 

But doing that is not a Jesus way. It is giving in to the Pharisees and quenching the celebration of hope when it is needed most. Its acquiescing to greed, power, corruption and abuse of authority. 

I hope that some of you have found some wisdom in what I have shared so far this morning. Having said that, you might be thinking, Ian that is all well and good, but staying positive isn’t easy at times. And it is a real challenge to keep believing when there is so much unrest in the world.

Yes, these are uncertain times. Goodness and mercy are not abundant. 

Luke’s Jesus says, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” You can’t silence the truth. You can silence me infers Jesus. You can silence my friends. You can silence the crowd. Even the stones know truth and they will shout it out if they need to. God’s truth will not be quiet. 

We wouldn’t be the people we are if allowed ourselves to be silenced. Regardless of circumstance, the Jesus in us continues to push back, resisting inflated egos, tyranny, oppression, racism, sexism and other evils. Those are tenets of our faith, foundations of our being. Even the stones we walk on know that. 

Thanks for listening this morning.

Amen

[1] Feasting on the Word, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Kentucky, 2009, p 157 

  Inspired by Isaiah 43:16-21 and John 12:1-8

I had a plan. I had run in the 10K BMO Classic the year before so why not up the ante and go for something grander. Yes, I will train for the half marathon! It was May of 2011, the run in October. Lots of time. 

I began down at the track at TRU. A couple of laps at first then 3 and 4. That’s about a mile, I think. I did that several times a week. I think probably every second day. My brother, who is a runner, advised to put in some “wind sprints” too so I added those. Once around the track then a 100 m sprint, slow down, another loop, another 100 m sprint. I recall the first few weeks being brutal. The heart in the throat kind of thing after 10 min or so. 

However, I graduated to a few laps then once around the university campus. Then twice around (about 5 km). Soon enough I was down at Riverside Park running over the bridge and out by the river through N. Kamloops. I varied the route and kept at it - 10 km, 12 km. I was getting stronger. 

When I was in Vancouver on business I would run along the waterfront by the Pan Pacific and then along the sea wall. It actually started to be enjoyable, something all runners tell you happens. 

Well with the run in October I had to push a little harder. I made the big breakthrough in September. Lenore came with me. My goal was to purposefully run the route planned for the half marathon. We parked in Stanley Park, and I was off one Saturday morning. Along the sea wall, up to prospect point, all around the park, out into the city, over to the planetarium and back. In all, 19 km. I was pumped and Lenore was impressed. I was nearly ready. 

A couple of weeks later I am in the Urologist’s office. An ultrasound had shown something amiss with a kidney. Well, what to do doc? Some tests Ian. Let’s see what is going on. Into the hospital one set of tests. Back home. Then back in. Scopes and such. 

Say doc I said after the second array of tests, (because Lenore asked me to), I have a half marathon to run next week. Do you foresee any issues? Well, it’s probably OK he says, but you might bleed. You need to be prepared for that. Well, the nurse promptly told me no half marathon for you and of course my sweetheart was adamant. Nyet, no way, no chance, nadda, not going to happen. 

Dang it anyway, I was training to be a stallion and now the stallion was confined to the stable. I was not impressed. All that endurance training for nothing.

Lent is a reminder of endurance training. 

Isaiah reminds us of the incredible endurance of the Hebrew people during the exodus. They were led across the Red Sea with Pharaoh in hot pursuit. The hazardous marathon continued, an expedition into uncertainty which would last well over a generation. They are to eventually arrive in what we know to be modern day Israel, “the promised land,” but in the interim much suffering ensues. Uncertainty, fear, a lack of confidence in Moses and a lack of trust in God develop. 

Of course it did, faith can only do so much. Forty years in the wilderness is a very long time to wait in anxiety and deal with hardship. The land of “milk and honey” seemed a dream, not a reality.

Isaiah’s prophetic words are a hard sell to another community of exiles, another community enduring great hardship, the Judeans in Babylon. Seven hundred and fifty (750) or so years after Moses, Isaiah tries to encourage the Jewish people, by predicting an end to their seventy-year (70) imprisonment. He recalls Moses making a way through the Red Sea in escape. He recalls making a way in the wilderness as did the Hebrews in the first exile. Isaiah predicts God will give drink to all of God’s people. God will give sustenance, lift up, provide for, comfort. Isaiah intends to ignite reassurance among a people, who must have lost all hope of ever returning home. They had to endure hardship first.

There is a remarkable similarity between the Hebrews in Exodus, the Judeans in Isaiah and events of our time. 

The Berlin Wall prevented people from fleeing from East to West Berlin. For twenty-eight (28) years countless families were torn apart, unable to see one another again. I can’t imagine the heartache they endured. Losing complete contact with someone you loved would be devastating. 

The Palestinian people are to this day still unable to establish a true homeland. They are being squeezed out of real estate that they have called home for centuries. And they have no where to go. Along with shattered homes, businesses, schools, hospitals and places of worship, are shattered hopes and dreams. How much are they expected to endure?

Isaiah speaks about God doing a new thing. In all that we have witnessed in history and all we witness today, where is God in the lives of those that are asked to endure far too much? Where is God doing a new thing? Where is God making a way in our wilderness? I wonder because I often don’t recognize it. 

I recall being very frustrated when I had to cancel my plan for the half marathon run. In retrospect however I know that I was “almost there.” I had glimpses of the achievement. I could feel it, sense it. I knew it was within my reach. For reasons outside of my immediate control, I was unable to get across the finish line. But that does not mean the goal is unachievable. Perhaps I shall try again and this time, perhaps a different result can be realized. That will be something new and a celebration.

As we follow Jesus through these 40 Lenten days, the requirement for great endurance stands clearly in front of us once more. Jesus moves further and further towards his destined conflict with the Roman authorities and Pilot. He endured both betrayal and denial by friends. He endured public ridicule and beating and finally, the physical and emotional torment of a barbaric execution.

I wonder if our Lenten time and recollection of Jesus’ journey asks us to be prayerfully mindful that times of celebration may one day be realized for the suffering of the world. Perhaps Isaiah’s prophesy can become a reality for those that endure heartache, grief, separation from loved ones, loss of home and homestead, and worst of all loss of hope. Perhaps there will be a time when God will do a new thing, making a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters; making a way in the wilderness and waters in the desert; a time when what has been endured is ended, and there will be a new beginning.

That is the promise that the belief in Jesus brings. Somewhere through the sometimes-excruciating pain of what is now, a thread of love is woven into being. That love grows into life in seeds of reconciliation, peace, forgiveness, and justice for all.

We follow a man who paved the way for that hope. We continue to follow him now on the way to Golgotha where some will try to extinguish his life and his spirit. But we know that doesn’t happen. The Jesus then is the Jesus now. He endures the pain of the world with us. And his resurrection love keeps us hopeful.

Thanks for listening this morning.

Amen

Inspired by Psalm 63 and Luke 13:1-9

I may have mentioned that these last few Tuesday evenings I have been participating in poetry discovery. The sessions, “Touched by Words,” offer opportunities to review possible interpretations of an incredible variety of poems. Often, between those of us online, a common understanding comes out of our discussions. Other times, there are nuances many of us can not see at first. 

There are always insightful learnings and great surprises. Many questions are raised. What did the author mean when she interchanged words like see (to look) with sea (the ocean) or darn (expressing a frustration) and darn (like mending a sock) in the same poem? What did he mean to convey with mixing up various tenses? And the metaphors, well there are always beautiful metaphors that invite you into deep reflection. The writing often “lives” it seems to me. 

I’m enjoying the time because I like words. Forget Google or YouTube. Pass over messenger and Instagram. Read some poetry or perhaps a good book. Words speak to the heart and soul. They can be filled with emotion. They can encourage introspection. They can also hug you and offer you respite.

The gift of word in poetic voice is, I expect, one of the reasons I enjoy scripture so much. Sometimes the meaning is obscured. But upon review and reflection a great “Ah Ha”moment breaks through. Sometimes there is little need to consult a biblical reference or a lectionary commentary. Sometimes the words just fly at you and stick. There they linger and you begin your wondering. And the revelation can be incredible.

Such was the case when I read this line from the Psalm Chris shared for us this morning.

“Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.”

“Your steadfast love is better than life.” Wow! Just sit with that a minute. The love that I feel, the encouragement I get, the comfort I receive, the joy that I experience in you God, is better than life itself. That is saying something profound indeed. Simple words, unambiguous words. There is little to interpret.

This Psalm is attributed to King David, apparently while he was in the wilderness of Judah. The author, like many of the Psalms is unknown, however their passion for and trust in God overflows. My lips praise you, my soul is satisfied as with a rich feast, in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy, my soul clings to you. 

It is all such beautiful poetry. And in poetry I have learned that the poet is often trying to convey a deeply personal experience. Whatever the subject may be, the words are emotive. In the reading you are asked to immerse yourself and let yourself be filled with awe and wonder. You are asked to feel and live the words. You are asked, what would it be like to be in the space the author has created? You are asked if you can feel what the author has expressed.

I put myself into this Psalm of David and it does indeed move me. I feel buoyant, joyful, filled with wonder. I sense security and trust. It also makes me inquisitive. The writer could not have put down those words unless he had an intimate relationship with God, trusted the Creator’s constant presence, experienced personally what it is like to be held in Holy Love during crisis or doubt. One could not write like that unless you knew the face of God that warms your heart on a rainy day, feeds your spirit when you feel hopeless, holds you hand when you are overwhelmed and lonely.

I have experienced those things, perhaps you have too. But there are also times when I have neglected paying attention to the ubiquitous healing presence that the Infinite One offers. Apart from being a beautiful metaphor, the Psalmist’s words from this morning are a nudge on the shoulder, a reminder to us. I am here; I am always here. 

Jesus echoes that sentiment in the parable of the barren fig tree. 

‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still, I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ 

Are there occasions when you have been discouraged, a time when you have felt isolated and alone? Perhaps not knowing where to turn, unable to see the way forward, you have felt totally useless, incapable of doing much at all. Perhaps you have felt a little barren yourself. The Psalmist’s words, God “your steadfast love is better than life,”will not be part of your vocabulary. 

But God can break in, even then. Today, in this parable from John, God is the vineyard worker, the simple gardener whose wisdom creates a new opportunity. 

8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good, but if not, you can cut it down.’”

The psalmist would have known the Creator’s goodness would prevail, and the tree would thrive. There would be fruit next year. The impatient vineyard owner did not. 

Sometimes we don’t recognize The Holy Presence around us. Sometimes we drive right by the oasis of peace, comfort and assurance offered. We are just too preoccupied at times to see where God is. Unlike the Psalmist, we don’t see the sign that says, “stop here, come and bathe in the light of the creator’s love.” “Rest a while and replenish your weary soul.” “It is all hear for you, a rich feast of soul food.”

For a singular fig tree that meant some TLC and some nutrition. It needed some tending, cultivating and nurturing. The tree had been ignored and was not thriving. The vine worker new what was required. 

Jesus knows what is required too. He reminds us not to lose all hope when hopelessness visits. He reminds us to believe in possibility. He reminds us to be patient.

Let the spirit of love, compassion, and peace fill you says Jesus. You will foster joy and hope in others if you do. Through the spirit working in you, you will be the fertilizer that brings forth the new fruit of kin-dom living. You might not see it now, but you will see it if you follow in my way. 

The psalmist recognizes how his life, and presumably that of others can be filled with so much promise. He has experienced the barrenness of the unnurtured and unattended forgotten fig tree too, because he has “been there.” 

He has also experienced incredible soul nurturing, as he has been blessed in his life through his experience of getting to know God personally. That is his prophetic story. 

In the parable of the barren fig tree Jesus is hopeful that we might see that as well. It is not just about what you can do for God, but what God can do for you. If you have been lonely, insecure, anxious or depressed, the Holy One can offer you something of an antidote. If you are consumed by grief and an uncertain future, Yahweh can provide reassurance. 

Look to the barren fig tree, that when tended and nurtured will surely thrive again. Offer yourself the chance to be “soul fed.” Open your hearts to love. Open your spirits to caring, compassion and companionship. You will find that in the Holy Presence. 

And when you do you will see what the Psalmist saw, 

· A God that you thirst for

· A God that satisfies you as a rich feast

· A God that wants to make you sing for joy

· A God that upholds you 

· A God whose love is better than life

· A God who is an Oasis on our Lenten Journey

Amen

And thanks for listening this morning. 

Inspired by Luke 13:31-35

“We live in a world obsessed with status and power, and consequently rife with political machinations. Most obvious in this regard may be the candidates for and holders of government office, who often try to make themselves look better than they actually are-and their opponents look worse than they are.”[1]

Those words could easily be your words or my words, but in fact are the words of theologian Rodney Clapp. And they were published in a lectionary series I have that was published in 2009. That is sixteen years ago, but the words could have been penned yesterday. 

There is no end to the absurd mind-numbing nonsense coming to us daily from “down south.” Ethical and moral decency are not part of the fabric of the US Presidency.

In our country attacks on Mr. Poilievre began weeks ago with PM Trudeau still in office. Verbal tirades were launched at Mr. Carney by opponents before he was even elected as the new Liberal Leader. Now as the incoming Prime Minister, well, let the Mud-Slinging begin. Can’t you wait for the next Federal Election!

On the political stage, we are entrenched in an environment of negativity fueled by ego, self-interest and an insatiable appetite for power. And we would all say - Enough already! 

It is so very sad that this has been the Human Story for such a long while. It was indeed the situation for Jesus too, which is probably why the Pharisees said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” Jesus’ popularity was rising and that presented a threat to Herod’s leadership. That threat needed to be eliminated.

We have witnessed far too long the consequences of the power brokers and control seekers. Often the worst kinds of human suffering result. 

Jesus of course knows all about the evil of King Herod. He knows as well the death of John the Baptist in Jerusalem and the history of other prophets slain there. And he knows what is waiting for him upon his arrival. But as Jesus calls his adversaries out, he also “sees them as as barnyard chicks lost in a storm, too afraid and too stubborn to find shelter under the shadow of mother hen’s wings.”[2] 

34 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” 

Jesus is saying, “I have offered to bring you into God’s new kin-dom. I have wanted to teach you about kindness, generosity and forgiveness. I have wanted to share the Creator’s love with you all. I have wanted to free you from bondage, bring healing to your wounded and peace to your grieving. It is all right here for the taking, and it is free. But you have rejected me.” 

It is almost a pastoral message, still offering the opportunity for a breakthrough into a new day. I (God) want to be there for you. That has always been the prayer.

The consequences of rejection? There always are consequences of our actions. “Your house is left to you.” You have made you bed and now you have to lay in it we would say. “And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when[c] you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ ” 

You will not see me suggests you do not understand, “you will not get it until you believe in my message and live in my way.” That way is to let God gather everyone close in a universal loving embrace. Too “see” Jesus is to let him in to time and place, to let him in to our living. 

Why not just accept that simple invitation? Because welcoming Jesus means embracing the things that corruption rejects; equality, justice, fairness, accountability, and peace. Unfortunately, the values of authoritative politicians, and tyrannical world leaders both in Jesus’ time and now, are not gospel centred. It is unlikely they will heed the message offered by a mothering hen embracing her chicks. Neither will the selfish or the self-centered. The privileged might be reluctant, the vastly rich, evasive. 

But friends, that just means that our ministry must carry on. Because all God’s children, all God’s Children need to be held. 

I hear Jesus speaking to the naysayers, the rejectors of his powerful love filled message saying, silly human, you just don’t get it, I feel bad for you. I can give you all the advice in the world but if you don’t take it, you will not truly see the world and all its beauty. You will not see the possibility that God’s grace offers you. You will not realize your full potential without knowing how valued you are to the creator and to one another. To truly know what it is to be loved, you must let go of your ego and come unto me. 

That is the message we carry forward. We must somehow pass over the annoying speed bumps that would distract us from this ministry we have together. 

Knowing that we are instruments of hope and peace in the world is a bit of a burden to carry. And rejection is frustrating. But Jesus stayed the course carrying his message all the way to Jerusalem. We are invited to do the same, to take that message of love, generosity, and kindness wherever we go. That might be to Victoria, Ottawa or even Washington. Most importantly though, we need to carry it with us each and every day wherever we are.

In our personal experiences there have always been invitations to participate in kin-dom living. And for the most part we have taken them. We have parked our ego, lent a hand, been kind and generous neighbours, supported the church and other community organizations. And we have done so lovingly and without reservation. We have taken God’s invitation to be part of Shalom community. We are simply asked to keep doing the same. Amen, thanks for listening this morning. 

[1] Rodney Clapp, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 2, Lent Through Eastertide, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville Kentucky, 2009, p. 68

[2] Ibid., 72