“Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14 but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. 

A juicy little metaphor, a kind of a teaser and an invitation. An invitation into what I might call a “Deep Dive.” 

But sir, the Samaritan woman asks, you speak of water that can give eternal life. What is that? I’m interested in this “living water.” “Show it to me.” I don’t want to be thirsty again stuck in the same situation I am now with no prospects. I don’t want to come back to this well time after time just so I can survive. Are you saying there is something else? What is this eternal life you speak of?

Follow me and I will show you the promise that God has made. I will show you the path to enlightenment, the path that leads us forth into kind and caring relationships. I will show you that reconciliation among enemies is possible. And I will show you that you are loved regardless of your standing or your situation. I will show you inner peace.

The time is coming says Jesus when, in accepting God as spirit and truth, you will be followers. God seeks such followers to journey with me, speaking of justice, peace and right-relations. God asks you to walk with me on a path of healing through unconditional love. That is “living water,” water flowing from our hands, feet and hearts to quench the thirst of the needy. Through your actions of generosity, others may be fed and hope restored. 

The Samaritan Woman is a social outcast, out of place from Jesus and his community. She is a relative nobody and is not even named. She is an unfulfilled soul, someone struggling with her value and worth. Perhaps she may even have doubt in her God. 

I see her journey as a deep dive. 

I recall a much younger man who, rather arrogantly, denied the spirit of God. He said it was just myth. His ears were closed to the master’s love song. His eyes shut off from the beauty of creation. His heart was unaware of the healing power of the Holy Presence during grief. 

At first a toe tested the water. He sat in a chair during a church worship service. There were no sharks. The minister spoke about generosity and social justice. He was curious.

He waded in up to his waist and opened a book called the bible. It didn’t bite as he thought it might. It was filled with strange names and odd places. He allowed his curiosity to wander, and it was answered with parable, which spoke to him about kindness, forgiveness, light and love.

He went deeper, up to his chest and he couldn’t believe he floated. He floated with a lifejacket of possibility. Could it be he wondered that Jesus was right. When neighbour greets neighbour, hands do not need to be clenched into fists, and caustic accusatory words are not the first things to be uttered. Possibly there is opportunity for reconciliation, for building up, not breaking down.

Before he knew it, he was up to his neck and the seas became rough. Criticisms, accusations, bullying, even betrayal. This was surely enough to overwhelm his seaworthiness and cast him adrift. Bur somehow, miraculously, he found a different kind of lifejacket. The creator was there and offered him a small boat. She said, you have to row, and row hard. But you will make it. I will be waiting at the shore for you. He did and she was. 

After that he dove in, headfirst and he started a deep dive. That dive took him to places he never could have imagined. It hasn’t been easy. Sometimes he has had to hold his breath for a long while. Other times his oxygen tank has been on empty. But someway, somehow, he managed to keep on swimming. Along the way Jesus has been his lifeguard saying, yes keep going, you are needed, you are one of my disciples. 

And God, well God of course has been there as a companion. Holy Compassion has been there listening to his woes and giving him pep talks. Holy Love has been there nurturing, guiding, reassuring. And as he competed the deep dive, he received a great gift. I’ll tell you about that in a minute. 

Like many of us today, bombarded by negativity, we are more inclined to exist in survival mode than in a hopeful place. Either that or we are jaded by our perceptions that nothing is ever going to change. I expect we all can imagine what kind of response Jesus would get if he offered the gift of living water to us in such circumstances. 

What does this living water really have to offer us? That is what the Samaritan woman wondered too. 

Jesus had travelled a long way through Samaria. He was parched and so he sat down at the well. He needed a drink of life-sustaining water. It is something the Samaritan woman could give him. Our gospel story doesn’t confirm it, but I can’t imagine he left thirsty. Unexpectedly the woman also received a nourishing drink, one that could have changed her life if she accepted it. It was there if she choose to take a deep dive, accepting Jesus in her life.

We are fortunate enough to be beneficiaries of both thirst-quenching life sustaining water and living water as well. We nourish one another with kindness, generosity, and love in our ministry together. And we receive the living water of Christ when we make the deep dive into the Creator’s arms. It is a journey, and it’s a miracle. 

I mentioned that there is a great gift in that journey, that deep dive into the spirit. I know because I found it. At the bottom of your dive, you will find an oyster. Inside is the brightest pearl you have ever seen. It’s Eternal Life!

Take the dive! 

Thanks for listening this morning, Amen 

It has been a remarkably sad week in British Columbia. The events that unfolded with the shooting deaths in Tumbler Ridge, has torn apart a quiet town in the north-eastern part of the province. Families have been devastated, residents numbed with the shock of an unthinkable tragedy. Seven young lives and one adult perished. Two more young people fight for their lives in hospital beds. Fraught with too many demons, the shooter herself took her own life. There were a reported twenty-five others injured. 

There is no possible way of making any sense of this horrific, heartbreaking event. There are no words one can say that can possibly soften the grief or relieve the pain. Condolences and hugs help, but the pain is unbearable. Will the affected families ever recover from this terrible tragedy? Will the community of Tumbler Ridge ever heal?

For those gathered in Sunday Worship like we are, surely the question, “God where are you in all this,” is being raised. “How can God let this happen will be words shared among many.” I wondered if the transfiguration of Jesus in today’s Gospel account could give us any perspective. 

If I recall correctly, the first time I spoke about Jesus’ transfiguration experience was to children in story time. How am I going to make sense out of this event for young folks I wondered? Well, I had one of those transformer toys with me. I think it was a car. As we sat together at the front of the sanctuary, I changed the car into a robotic figure and then back again. Jesus’ appearance changed I said. There were several quizzical looks. (I wonder now if, after the service, several kids told their moms and dads that Jesus was a robot). I don’t think I really explained the story very well then.

The next time I told the story I thought of something else. I had one youth at worship that day. I had rigged up a floodlight near one of the pews in the front. I said, I wonder what it must have been like for Jesus being in such a powerful light. I asked her to step up on the pew and I turned on the floodlight. The young girl stood there with the biggest smile on her face, which was glowing from the flood lamp. She just stood there and didn’t say anything. We were all amazed, and that was the sermon in a nutshell. She was showing us what it would be like to be bathed in Holy Light. It was beautiful and inspiring.

I imagine I have made reference to one of my favourite Christmas Stories in a worship reflection before, but I can’t help repeating it, because it makes me think about Jesus’ transfiguration. I see the Grinch with his green grinchy feet in the snow feeling absolutely retched because he couldn’t stop Christmas from coming. Suddenly the heavens open up and the bright sun comes out. He is zapped with an incredible bolt of light, and he falls down. What is happening to me he asks? “I’m all toasty inside and I’m leaking,” says the Grinch, as he sheds tears of joy. And his heart, as we know, grew three sizes. His transfiguration led to a great transformation.

Did the hearts of Peter, James and John grow exponentially on that mountain with Jesus? Did they fill with hope for a better world? Did they “see” the messiah in a new light, affirming their faith in discipleship? What did they feel other than fear when God spoke, “This is my Son, the Beloved;[b] with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” 

I see the transfiguration event as a reminder of God’s transformative power through Holy Love. For the disciples, a reminder that Holy Wisdom affirms the man Jesus as an emissary for spreading the good news to the world. Peter, James and John, after getting over their fear, fully understand Jesus was indeed the way, the truth and the light. Once they got over their individual trepidation, they were changed, they were transformed. If there had been any doubt about their ministry calling and Jesus’ authenticity, that vanished as quickly as the light bathing the messiah.

Listen to him offers powerfully transformative words. 

Listen to him. Through the power of love, sight can be returned to the blind, it becomes possible for the deaf to hear again and for the lame to walk. The power of love can restore hope. The power of love can even transform death into new life. It seems to me that is what we often pray for. We are praying for it now.

We are praying for love to break down the doors of hopelessness and despair in the community of Tumbler Ridge. We are praying that with time, anger, doubt, fear and pain will be diminished and healing may begin. We pray the agony of grief will some-day become tolerable. The gift of Holy Love can do that.

A number of years ago in my infancy of my faith enquiries I asked my Diaconal Mentor “Where is God when tragedy happens?” It is I expect akin to saying, “How can God allow terrible things to happen?” How is it that wars continue to prevail, that innocent men, women and children die needlessly every day? How is it that natural disasters make so many suffer? How is it that there are the desperate, so many unfed, unloved or living on the streets? How is it God that there are horrid, unimaginably painful events like the one that just happened in Tumbler Ridge?

My mentor replied to me, “Ian those are the times when God was not present.” 

I have learned that either by design or through chance, tragedy lands and inflicts crushing blows to the human spirit. I have also learned that there is no salve that can be applied to make things better. You all know that as well. And you know that while we want there to be a fix when heartache occurs, one does not exist. This has nothing to do with God. But we might ask, where then does God, the Holy arrive?

The Holy is in Jesus’ mountaintop experience, and it gives me a great deal of hope. From within the blinding light came a voice that said, “This is my Son, the Beloved;[b] with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Listen to Jesus, for he has much to offer this troubled and fractured world. The disciples heard it. God’s voice, Holy Love.

I hear that voice now, in this place. The Holy One says, “You are my disciples, my beloved, with you I am well pleased.” And within that voice comes a great hope, a hope that we would allow ourselves to be transformed too, changed into believing that death and destruction do not have the last say. Convinced that love, kindness, and generosity offer pathways to healing. Assured in our determination to see that justice prevails. That voice is a transformational one, and we are its agents.

We are its agents, offering transformation through trauma, to healing for those in our Community of Faith and our communities who need assurance that there are compassionate, caring people holding them prayerfully. We are agents of God’s love holding all those affected by the Tumbler Ridge tragedy in our hearts. We cannot make their pain vanish, but we can walk tenderly with them and hopefully, eventually, and with God’s grace, help healing resolve heartache.

As we pray for the dead, grieving and traumatized at Tumbler Ridge and elsewhere, thank you for being agents of Jesus’ transforming love, that can bring healing into pain and suffering. 

And thank you for listening this morning, Amen 

“We speak God’s wisdom, a hidden mystery, which God decreed before the ages for our glory 8 and which none of the rulers of this age understood, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” Valerie shared those words this morning from our Epistle reading.

What is God’s wisdom? Paul suggests it is hidden mystery. Hidden such that none of the rulers of the age understood it. 

How does one describe it, how to we get our fingers on it? How do we begin to understand the vastness of God’s reach, the remarkable Holy Presence that is with us today, here in this place and at the same time appreciate it has been present since the dawn of Creation? How might we experience the joy and contentment that healing can bring from a knowing of Holy Mystery?

What is this hidden mystery that if understood would have saved Jesus from an untimely and horrific death? What kind of wisdom was lacking from those that called out for his crucifixion? What did the Pharisees misunderstand as they gave Jesus up as a scapegoat for their own benefit? What didn’t Judas understand and what did Pilot fail to perceive? 

Let’s do a quick back-cast to Paul’s personal experience. Before his conversion he was a Pharisee, an individual who intensely persecuted the church of a new age and tried to destroy it. He was an extremist in his determination to further Judaism in the tradition of his fathers. Paul, like many others of the elite classes, perceived Jesus as a threat. Even after Jesus’ death Paul continued to persecute the early Christians. 

Acts 9:1-2 Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest 2 and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem.

The miracle of Paul’s transformation occurs on this trip, the infamous Road to Damascus journey.

3 Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. 4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” 5 He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. 6 But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.”

As we know the narrative, Saul becomes the Apostle Paul and later becomes the founder of many house churches throughout the Aegean. Paul experiences a vision setting him on a completely different path. It is a complete reversal of his being in the world; a 360-degree turn. 

It seems to me that Paul suddenly understood God’s wisdom, that hidden mystery we speak of, which, if he had understood it earlier, may have prompted him to try and prevent Jesus’ death rather than condone it. 

That hidden mystery God birthed in Adam and Eve, made available to Abraham and Moses, was carried in Mary and Elizabeth in their pregnancies. It was the man Jesus. It has existed over the aeons and prevails in many souls this day. 

It can be elusive, but it is also often in plain view. 

It’s elusive when fear breaks into the hearts of immigrants who must run to hide from authorities bent on rounding them up in mass export campaigns. It is elusive when women are dragged from their cars by masked government agents. It is elusive when even children are separated and detained from their parents by immigration authorities. 

It is elusive when presidential decrees send special forces into foreign lands on kidnapping campaigns in the pretence of world security, while all the time intent on engaging in manipulation of local economic stability for their own gain.

It is elusive when families are blackmailed and their security threatened as they cower in hopeful safety indoors, while bullets shatter windows. This mystery stays well hidden when essential food and medical supplies are prevented from reaching the needy, and through the continued military assault on housing and infrastructure, when citizens are already cold, hungry and desperate. 

The “Hidden Mystery” is back in our presence when children are at play on swing sets and paddle through puddles. It is before us when they rest on grandparent’s knees sharing an ice cream. The “Hidden Mystery” comes into focus when our young people can walk safely home from school without parental escort. 

It jumps into focus when warming shelters offer respite from a cold winter’s night, when safe injection sites provide a means for those suffering from addiction, to obtain untainted drugs and prevent deadly overdoses. 

It is known as random acts of kindness. It is recognized as respectful care of the elderly, visitations to the lonely, reasonable pay for a day’s work, equal opportunity for those of all skin colour, ethnic background, language or culture. It is known in the welcome of the stranger, atheist, Jew, Gentile. 

We see it in the displayed colours of LGBTQ2+ flag and Pride Day celebrations. We witness it when we light our Reconciliation Candle each Sunday Morning. We experience it during our Pastoral Prayers.

Of what do we speak? 

We speak of the truth. The truth is the all too often hidden mystery. 

The truth is, that however one wants to frame “Holy Love;” God, Creator, Holy Spirit, Holy One, Holy Three, Father, Mother, Sister, Brother, that presence is ubiquitous in nature, it knows no bounds and is limitless. The truth tells us that the love in Jesus of Nazareth could never be put to death. It was pointless to try. The actions of those that tried only served to affirm the permanency of humility, kindness, gentleness and hope in the world.

Some would like us to keep the truth hidden. Paul was awakened from ignorance and transformed, “I can’t do it he realized. I can’t keep the truth from being told. Jesus is God’s love in the world.” That was true then and it is true now. It is part of every fabric of our being whether we choose to believe it or not. 

The mystery is no longer. It is found in the truth. Holy Love can stay hidden for only so long. Invite it into your life. Celebrate it, bathe in it, live it. Be transformed like Paul.

Thanks for listening this morning. Amen  

“We speak God’s wisdom, a hidden mystery, which God decreed before the ages for our glory 8 and which none of the rulers of this age understood, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” Valerie shared those words this morning from our Epistle reading.

What is God’s wisdom? Paul suggests it is hidden mystery. Hidden such that none of the rulers of the age understood it. 

How does one describe it, how to we get our fingers on it? How do we begin to understand the vastness of God’s reach, the remarkable Holy Presence that is with us today, here in this place and at the same time appreciate it has been present since the dawn of Creation? How might we experience the joy and contentment that healing can bring from a knowing of Holy Mystery?

What is this hidden mystery that if understood would have saved Jesus from an untimely and horrific death? What kind of wisdom was lacking from those that called out for his crucifixion? What did the Pharisees misunderstand as they gave Jesus up as a scapegoat for their own benefit? What didn’t Judas understand and what did Pilot fail to perceive? 

Let’s do a quick back-cast to Paul’s personal experience. Before his conversion he was a Pharisee, an individual who intensely persecuted the church of a new age and tried to destroy it. He was an extremist in his determination to further Judaism in the tradition of his fathers. Paul, like many others of the elite classes, perceived Jesus as a threat. Even after Jesus’ death Paul continued to persecute the early Christians. 

Acts 9:1-2 Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest 2 and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem.

The miracle of Paul’s transformation occurs on this trip, the infamous Road to Damascus journey.

3 Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. 4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” 5 He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. 6 But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.”

As we know the narrative, Saul becomes the Apostle Paul and later becomes the founder of many house churches throughout the Aegean. Paul experiences a vision setting him on a completely different path. It is a complete reversal of his being in the world; a 360-degree turn. 

It seems to me that Paul suddenly understood God’s wisdom, that hidden mystery we speak of, which, if he had understood it earlier, may have prompted him to try and prevent Jesus’ death rather than condone it. 

That hidden mystery God birthed in Adam and Eve, made available to Abraham and Moses, was carried in Mary and Elizabeth in their pregnancies. It was the man Jesus. It has existed over the aeons and prevails in many souls this day. 

It can be elusive, but it is also often in plain view. 

It’s elusive when fear breaks into the hearts of immigrants who must run to hide from authorities bent on rounding them up in mass export campaigns. It is elusive when women are dragged from their cars by masked government agents. It is elusive when even children are separated and detained from their parents by immigration authorities. 

It is elusive when presidential decrees send special forces into foreign lands on kidnapping campaigns in the pretence of world security, while all the time intent on engaging in manipulation of local economic stability for their own gain.

It is elusive when families are blackmailed and their security threatened as they cower in hopeful safety indoors, while bullets shatter windows. This mystery stays well hidden when essential food and medical supplies are prevented from reaching the needy, and through the continued military assault on housing and infrastructure, when citizens are already cold, hungry and desperate. 

The “Hidden Mystery” is back in our presence when children are at play on swing sets and paddle through puddles. It is before us when they rest on grandparent’s knees sharing an ice cream. The “Hidden Mystery” comes into focus when our young people can walk safely home from school without parental escort. 

It jumps into focus when warming shelters offer respite from a cold winter’s night, when safe injection sites provide a means for those suffering from addiction, to obtain untainted drugs and prevent deadly overdoses. 

It is known as random acts of kindness. It is recognized as respectful care of the elderly, visitations to the lonely, reasonable pay for a day’s work, equal opportunity for those of all skin colour, ethnic background, language or culture. It is known in the welcome of the stranger, atheist, Jew, Gentile. 

We see it in the displayed colours of LGBTQ2+ flag and Pride Day celebrations. We witness it when we light our Reconciliation Candle each Sunday Morning. We experience it during our Pastoral Prayers.

Of what do we speak? 

We speak of the truth. The truth is the all too often hidden mystery. 

The truth is, that however one wants to frame “Holy Love;” God, Creator, Holy Spirit, Holy One, Holy Three, Father, Mother, Sister, Brother, that presence is ubiquitous in nature, it knows no bounds and is limitless. The truth tells us that the love in Jesus of Nazareth could never be put to death. It was pointless to try. The actions of those that tried only served to affirm the permanency of humility, kindness, gentleness and hope in the world.

Some would like us to keep the truth hidden. Paul was awakened from ignorance and transformed, “I can’t do it he realized. I can’t keep the truth from being told. Jesus is God’s love in the world.” That was true then and it is true now. It is part of every fabric of our being whether we choose to believe it or not. 

The mystery is no longer. It is found in the truth. Holy Love can stay hidden for only so long. Invite it into your life. Celebrate it, bathe in it, live it. Be transformed like Paul.

Thanks for listening this morning. Amen

(A commentary from Stephanie Paulsell) 

“Even in a time of desolation (in this case the occupation of northern Judah by the Assyrians), Isaiah is able to imagine and describe a great light breaking, illuminating the path of those who walk in darkness, fear and pain.” “We are called like Isaiah, to share the light that we can only yet imagine.”[1] 

Isaiah’s prophesy, as in many of his others, is given to provide hope in difficult times. 

Overlying his oracle is a reference to the day of Midian, a time some years earlier when a small and seemingly inadequate Israelite force defeated the Midianites in battle. You have seen a great light before, a great lifting of your spirits and the gift of freedom. You will see these things again Isaiah promises. He suggests: 

2 [b]The people who walked in darkness 

have seen a great light; 

those who lived in a land of deep darkness

—on them light has shined.

A reminder of positive, affirming events from the past is offered to breathe hope into a time of desperation. That is a promise God makes. What was there once, can come again. 

Perhaps the people were meant to pray on it and it would come to pass. Perhaps they were to believe instinctively that the creator’s light would be with them in their doubt. They needed some assurance, and Isaiah meant to provide it.

In my spare time these days, I’m working away on an assignment for my Spiritual Direction program. (Proving once again that one is never too old to learn). The topic of discussion is “Awakening Your Heart.” 

We are quoted Matthew 5:8, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”  And one of the questions to wrestle with is “What barriers are you aware of that get in the way of this relationship to heart, and how might you respond to those?

What gets in the way of an open caring heart and the corresponding soul that cares? Well, there is so much! If I was an Israelite in Isaiah’s time I would be thinking of the Assyrians on my door step. Fear would fill my heart and soul. That would be the same if I was a Palestinian, a Ukrainian, a Venezuelan, an Iranian and many others today. I would need a prophet to remind me of God’s healing touch. 

These days what gets in the way of an open and caring heart for me, is bearing witness to those dreadful stories. That it when it is very difficult to see God.

I am also saddened by how much poverty, homelessness, addictions, elder abuse, grief and loneliness there is around us and in our communities. I’m disappointed when I learn about deteriorated relationships. I’m worried about climate change and the future for our youth. I’m frustrated with the knowledge that there is so much racism, sexism and intolerance in this country we call our home. 

It’s not difficult making a list. What is difficult is how we manage to cope, how we manage to keep loving with open hearts and buoyant spirits. In the midst of negativity our soulful selves tend to get depleted. How do we see the Holy in those times?

Working through this dilemma I had a bit of an epiphany the other day while reading some background material on this week’s scripture offerings. From the United Church Gathering Resources I read: 

“Light comes in many forms. Human eyes can typically only perceive light between 380 and 740 nanometers, with infrared and ultraviolet beyond our visual capacity. (A nanometer is very small, just one billionth of a meter). Nonetheless, infrared and ultraviolet do exist. Which prompted me to wonder, what lies beyond our present “sight,” beyond our comprehension, beyond our personal experience, and beyond our rational explanations?”[2] I wondered about “seeing” God.

I was immediately reminded, right, just because I can’t see the physical presence of God before me, in no way diminishes the fact that God is always there. The undeniable truth is that there is a spirit presence, an empowering hope, an irrefutable peace within and around us always. Compassionate, albeit invisible arms reach forward to embrace the needy and those that seek healing. Ethereal shoulders are poised to rest weary heads upon. 

The Psalmist says:

1 The Lord is my light and my salvation;
 whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold[a] of my life;
 of whom shall I be afraid?

But how does one come to know that? If Holy Love cannot be seen, where is our assurance? While the presence of UV and Infrared can be scientifically proven, the spirit’s presence, the one we call God cannot. We have scripture. Is that all we have?

Imagine yourself down on Okanagan Lake in July. It is a lovely 30 degrees C out. There aren’t many trees about, so you are basking in the sun. And suddenly you remember, you have forgotten your sunscreen! Now you know what is going to happen if you sit in the sun for too long. You cannot see the UV the sun emits, but you know with certainly you will feel it later if you don’t take precautions. 

Feel it, experience it, live it. That is how Holy Love, the presence of a joyful, hopeful, life-giving spirit can be seen. Like the aftermath of a bad sunburn, the knowing is the skin’s reaction, the experiencing is in the discomfort and the living, well the living tells you “I will not be doing that again.” 

Yesterday at Keith (Papa) Thom’s celebration of Life service, I don’t think anyone could actually see God, but you absolutely could feel God’s empathetic, healing and life-giving presence. I’m told, including myself, there were about four hundred of us present. 

Music was Keith’s life and his spirit vibrated through everyone as the band played some familiar songs. Guitar chords celebrated Keith’s incredible talent and solidified his legacy. Family members spoke passionately of a kind, generous, humble, determined and sincere individual, whose passing has left holes in many hearts. 

At the end of the celebration hundreds of helpings of Shepherd’s Pie were distributed in memory of Keith’s many road trips to hostels and shelters, where he sang and afterwards prepared this simple meal for others. It reminded me of Jesus’ communion celebration, sharing a simple meal with friends where God’s presence was felt. 

The heart of the Holy One was not seen but felt by everyone. It brought laughter, and fond memories. Some folks sang out with great gusto. Others were more silent letting the words fill them with light. Tissues came out to dry away tears. Whether folks knew it or not, they were touched by the Holy Spirit. They saw God. They saw Keith. Those visions will remain with them, not like an uncomfortable sunburn, but providing lasting joy, hope and peace. Those gathered were not exposed to harmful UV rays, but they did get a healthy dose of Holy Love. 

“We are called like Isaiah, to share the light that we can only yet imagine.”[3]  

Let us imagine that light now, here in this place and wherever we might be. A light that permeates all manner of conflict, hatred, loneliness, grief and doubt. A light that shines Beyond Our Sight. A light that assures, without being seen, we are not alone, we live in Holy Love. Amen

[1]Stephanie A. Paulsell, Feasting on the Word, Westminster John Knox Press, Louiseville, Kentucky, 2010, p. 270

[2] Gathering, Resources for Worship Planners, The United Church of Canada, Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, 2025-2026, Year A, p. 20, adapted

[3]Stephanie A. Paulsell, Feasting on the Word, Westminster John Knox Press, Louiseville, Kentucky, 2010, p. 270 

Inspired by John 1:29-42

This Gospel story follows on the heals of Jesus’ Baptism and the epiphany when John declares; “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son,[a] full of grace and truth.” We find those words just a little earlier in Chapter 1 of John’s writings. Other gospel accounts such as Matthew share this account when God speaks the familiar words, “This is my Son, the Beloved,[e] with whom I am well pleased.”

This is a celebration of the Incarnation of Jesus. And in “churchy” speak, it is a time we talk about incarnational theology, the idea that we are to be Christ in the world.[1] It’s the time of a great invitation.

In today’s passage, Jesus is recognized in the streets, John the Baptist knows him and exclaims, “I myself have seen and have testified that this is the son of God.” John and two of his accompaniers follow Jesus and when he notices, Jesus asks them what they were looking for. They reply with the inquiry, “where are you staying?” “Come and see,” responds Jesus. 

There is an invitation, “come and see,” and it is the precursor to the discipleship recruitment. Soon Jesus will have his full compliment of twelve dedicated followers. 

I think it is important to recognize why they came. Unlike Peachland United Church, Jesus couldn’t offer fabulous music and there were no voices to sing the great hymns. We don’t hear anything about great fellowship with treats. We don’t even know if Jesus offered an inspirational message with a few tasteful jokes thrown in such as you experience here. We get nada. 

The story is a little different in other gospel accounts such as Matthew when Jesus is walking on the beach on the sea of Galilee. But the outcome to invitation is the same. Jesus simply asks fishermen to follow him, and they do.

Come and see. And as if Jesus was some sort of giant magnet, they are drawn to him. The invitation is accepted. They must quench their thirst for the truth. Is this man really the chosen one, the messiah, the one who can free us from the chains of human, social and political bondage? We must find out.

Later their instincts would be proven correct. Jesus’ healing acts, his dogged determination for justice and his compassion for the commoner would fundamentally change the world. The “proof of the pudding” as it were, was the incentive. “The Messiah has arrived, praise be to God, we are saved from captivity and oppression.”

The dream was however short lived. Repressive, authoritative and deceitful events perpetrated by the ego of the misguided brought back reality. One man, even the son of God, could not singularly stamp out evil.

Which I don’t think was ever the point. God didn’t send a superhero to cleanse the earth of all the bad actors. The God we know doesn’t act in that way. Since the dawn of creation humanity has been given the freedom to live as we choose to live. Our maker is not an interventionist that strikes down wickedness, replacing it with peace and understanding. Some still believe God has a plan for all the chaos we are in. Some think God is in control. 

Boldly I believe that to be folly. And I believe that is why fewer and fewer of our friends and neighbours do not accept our invitation, an invitation to “come and see.” 

Our invitation is an “open-ended” offer to come in and see where God really lives. It is an invitation to tell the story that God is very much alive and very relevant. It is an invitation to welcome the inquirer, honour our differences, park our political views and put aside our likes and dislikes.

Our invitation is to come and find that the healing stories of the man called Jesus are true. We “see” and “walk’ differently within a caring community. We experience renewal and rebirth through pastoral relationships, fellowship connections and volunteer activities. And in prayer we grow to understand the life-giving presence of Holy Love. When we leave, we know of its persistence, because we experience it. 

“Where are you staying?” Jesus was asked. He didn’t provide an answer. He didn’t say just down the road at a B and B or the local Village Inn. He didn’t say, “I’m away down at the end of town in a barn very much like the one I was born in.” Jesus just said, “come and see.”

Shouldn’t that be the invitation of every loving and caring community of faith? Come in and see. Come in and see and you might be surprised at what you encounter. 

We won’t judge you here. You are welcome wherever you come from and wherever you may be headed. When you come through those front doors you will be greeted enthusiastically. 

During your time with us, just relax and be who you need to be. If your situation moves you to tears, that is OK. If you want to shout out a Hallelujah, go ahead. Please sing out loud or be totally silent, it is up to you. 

We offer a prayer time. When we do that know that we are holding you in our collective hearts, loving you even though we don’t call out your name, even though we may be perfect strangers. While you are with us we promise not to tell you what to believe or give you any kind of instruction on how you should live your faith.

We get together after our service to celebrate our fellowship. It is like a large family gathering where we chat and share our encounters. We would honour your presence there. If you need a pastoral moment, we can arrange that.

I know there are a few subtle sign changes we want to make outside. At least I recall an email to that effect. I wonder if one of them might be a name change. What do you think about “Come and See” United? Now that would be an invitation.

“Come and See” for Jesus was “come and follow me.” Implied was “we are going to work together to change the world. We are going to speak out for the disenfranchised, boldly declare equality for all men, women and children. We are going to resist evil by calling attention to it. We are going to offer healing through compassion. We are going to forgive others when they have wronged us and ask for forgiveness when we have made mistakes. We are going to treat others as we would like to be treated. And we are going to love unconditionally.”

The invitation is an open one. Come in and see, see who we are and know that you are one among us. Come in and see where God lives and be part of Jesus in action.

Thanks for listening this morning. Ian 

[1] Roger Y. Nishioka, Feasting on The Word, Year A, Volume 1, p. 260