Sermons

Christmas Eve 2011, Luke 2: 1-20, the Ven Jim Sutton Preacher

When were you last interrupted?  Perhaps your sleep will be interrupted tomorrow when a family member bounces in on you, with the urgency "It's Christmas, get up, get up!"  Sleep interrupted.  Or perhaps you were at your desk last week, trying to get those last few items finished up before the holiday, when the phone rang.  You almost didn't answer it, it was the end of the day and you were tired, and thought who would be calling and it's just a telemarketer.  Work interrupted.  Maybe you were running late on your way to get home for Christmas when you got stuck in mall traffic.  Travel interrupted.

I know how easy those things can cause frustration and even anger.  What if our interruptions are in fact our opportunities?  What if all the unexpected interruptions are in fact the invitations to make a change?  Instead of viewing these interruptions as things that keep us from our work or ministry, how would we be different if we viewed interruptions as opportunities?

In my experience interruptions are just minor annoyances that temporarily distract me from accomplishing and controlling what I do.  There I am at my desk trying to get the Christmas letter or sermon prepared and the phone rings, or someone drops in.  Perhaps the news is not good, and requires immediate attention.  Or someone just needs a view into my long experience of handling similar situations.  Or maybe something has happened to a good and long standing friend that hurts deeply.  Are they interruptions or opportunities?  Over the years, it seems that my interruptions are God's agenda.

Imagine that you are one of the main characters in our gospel text this evening.  Imagine yourself as Mary or Joseph - your wedding plans are falling apart and your place in the community down the tubes because Mary becomes pregnant before you are married.  Imagine the response from the neighbourhood, the under the breath comments when you claim that the child was the future Messiah whose birth is of the Holy Spirit!  To add to all that, the hated foreign government makes you travel to Bethlehem for a census late in Mary's pregnancy.  The village is crowded with grumpy fellow travelers, there is no room at the inn and Mary's labour starts.  You are in a foreign place, without family and a son is born in a barn.

Imagine now out on hills outside Bethlehem, a moonless night black skied night.  They settle down strategically among the flocks prepared for any danger, particularly animals who enjoy tasty lamb.  Suddenly, the night is awakened by a bright light and an angel appears making them aware of the birth of the Messiah, and telling them how to find him.  Respond or go back to sleep their life interrupted and changed.  The interruption gives them a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to worship at the bedside of a newborn king.

Later on in his mission, Jesus continues to interrupt lives:  calling fishermen from their nets; tax collectors from their desks.  Interruptions?  The list goes on:  a woman at the well, religious leaders about to stone a woman, the practice of ancient religious practices as he ushers in the kingdom of God among us.  The ultimate interruption was the resurrection breaking the attempt to silence his Mission by crucifixion.

Jesus is still about the business of breaking into lives today.  For some of us, we hear the call like the shepherd, "I am bringing you news of great joy for all people: to you is born this day...a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord!"  We arrive at the manger in amazement, to worship our King and then we return to our routines, but our hearts are changed forever.  God may be calling some of us from our offices or fishing nets, whatever they may be, to follow Jesus in a new way.

This is the season of interruptions, and thank goodness, because we need so much to hear the important message that Christmas brings.  The real gifts are not those under the tree, wrapped in glittering bags but in the opportunities presented to share deeply the gifts of the season: hope, peace, joy and most of all love.

Sun. July 24, 2011

Pentecost 6, Gospel: Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52, the Ven. Jim Sutton Preacher

The comedian comes out on stage, and starts his routine.  In a rapid-fire monologue, he serves up jokes.  How hot was it?  So hot they were digging the potatoes up baked.  How hot was it?  The two trees on the boulevard were fighting over a dog.  His one-liners are in succession, so that you can't help but laugh.

Jesus comes out in front of the crowds and starts his teaching.  In a rapid-fire monologue, he serves up parables.  His timing is also perfect, and these word-pictures become real.

That's where the similarity ends.  Jesus wants you to see the kingdom of heaven, that realm where God's sovereignty is recognized.

The routine Jesus offers in today's gospel is a bonanza; five short parables in a row.  All of them are gems.  Parables about a mustard seed, yeast in the flour, treasure buried in a field, a pricey pearl, a fishing net.

Did you find the mustard seed on your bulletin cover this morning?  The small seed that would grow into bushes that even birds could nest in.  As a Saskatchewanian, I remember those yellow flowers tall above the wheat about this time of the year, always wondering how those flowers ended up in the jars in the fridge, and why just a few in each acre.

Did you ever wonder how much three measures of flour would be?  Close to 80 pounds, we are not talking about Betty Crocker making a small cake, we are talking about the kingdom of God filling a huge grace-filled environment leaven in every corner.  Jesus' picture would come alive to those who listened.  The kingdom of God is so small that you can barely see it, so powerful that it will leaven pounds of flour, so valuable that once found we will sell all that we have to buy it.

"The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened."  Jesus tosses out this parable, this one-liner, and he does so for a purpose.  Just as the stand-up comic wants us to laugh, Jesus wants us to glimpse the kingdom of heaven, that realm where God's sovereignty is recognized.

Take another look at that huge mass of dough.  It's not just flour any more.  It is dough filled with the mystery of yeast in its midst bubbling up unable to be stopped.  It is the very life of all that we desire.

Our job, yours and mine, is to see the kingdom of God, not to wait for some far off date or time when we are dead but see it whenever God's sovereignty becomes apparent: it is formed in us when the flour becomes dough every growing.  That sovereighty is in every act of compassion and love, every battle for justice, and reconciliation, every gift given from the heart.  It may like the dough take time but the kingdom of God is working in and through us every day in every place wherever God's people are and act.

If we look around us and within us, we can recognize the presence of the kingdom.  That kingdom is at work.  The problem is that we are sometimes so busy we don't see it or its manifestations.  In every day, and every place we are called to observe and act, to plant the simple message of good news (mustard seed) to allow its leaven to work in us, to seek it with pursuit of a valuable pearl or piece of land, and in its wake comes an every growing circle of being found faithful (fishnet).