Our Lenten Sermon Series is a series on women surrounding Jesus leading up to his death and resurrection. We are using materials from Reverend Kathryn Schreiber and her "in the big love living liturgies." Because this material is copyrighted, it will not be available on our website. Please consider joining us for worship during Lent this year, or speak with Pastor Jamie to get more information on this sermon series.

Kathryn's website is: www.inthebiglove.com. Many thanks to her for making her sermon series available to other pastors. She did a wonderful job compiling information and resources.

​Young at Heart Message
 
Earlier this week while I was driving, I noticed that my back windshield was so dirty, I couldn’t see cars in my blind spot because I couldn’t see through the parts of the windshield that didn’t get wiped by the back wiper.
 
So, I decided that it was time to get my car washed.
 
Everyone else must have had the same idea, because I waited in line for 45 minutes!
 
But, I finally got through the car wash, and promptly moved on with my day.
 
I headed to the gym, worked out, and when I left the gym, it took me a minute to find my car.
 
I didn’t even recognize my own vehicle because it was shining so vividly blue.
 
I had become accustomed to the dirty brownish colour that my vehicle had become over the winter.
 
It was covered with months worth of dirt and grime from the wet and slushy snow and the pickle mix that they tend to spread here in Calgary.
 
After it had been washed, all of that grime had come off. My car quite literally sparkled in the sunlight.
 
Compared to the other vehicles around mine, it was definitely shining the brightest.
 
I have to imagine that if the other cars could speak, they would be jealous of how clean mine looked!
 
In light of the transfiguration stories that we heard today, I started thinking about how brightly my car shined after the dirt and grime and other things that were muting its light had been washed away.
 
I began to wonder what we might be (metaphorically) holding onto or layered with that might be preventing us from shining.
 
For example, Moses held onto a lot of insecurity and anxiety about his ability to speak on behalf of his people.
 
He held onto so much of this insecurity that God tells Moses to have his brother Aaron speak on his behalf.
 
Moses also holds onto uncertainty, along with quite a bit of frustration over the complaints of the Israelites after they leave their slavery in Egypt.
 
So, by the time he climbs Mount Sinai and talks with God on this occasion, he is pretty bogged down with his own “stuff” that’s preventing his light from shining.
 
Moses comes down from Mount Sinai after talking with God and has no idea that his skin is shining.
 
Aaron and all the Israelites are afraid to come near him because of his dazzling appearance.
 
However, we know, from another part of this story, that Moses—tucked away in the cleft of the rock—only saw God’s back.
 
“You shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen” (Exod. 33:23).
 
So Moses isn’t shining because he saw God on the mountain. Moses is shining because God saw him.
 
All of this begs the question, then: what might be bogging us down or holding us back from shining so brightly?
 
What needs to be “washed away,” or what might we need to let go of in order for our light to shine as brightly as Moses or Jesus after being seen by God?
 
I’d like to take a minute to create our own list of the things that might be preventing our light from shining.
 
Our AV people will type our responses in for us.
 
Feel free to just throw your thoughts out.
 
These can be generic things, or something you might actually be holding on to that you feel you could let go of.
 
The Message
 
I wanted to create this list together because, as many of you know, I took a brief personal retreat this week.
 
Some of you may remember during my sermon last week, I shared a story called “Acornology,” in which we talked about acorns needing to be planted in order to become their “True, Oak Tree Selves.”
 
I spent a lot of time thinking about this metaphor during my retreat and wondering about it for my own life.
 
The metaphor asks us to consider what we need to let go of, or what parts of ourselves or the things we hold tightly to do we need to let “die” in order to allow ourselves to break free from the acorn shell and become the mighty oak tree.
 
As I was contemplating this for myself, I thought to myself, “if I only knew what the goal of becoming the Oak Tree was, I could take steps to get there!”
 
But, this is exactly the problem.
 
Becoming the Oak Tree, or “True Self,” is not a goal to be achieved.
 
It is not as though once I become the oak tree, I am done.
 
That’s it!
 
Become Oak Tree – check! One more thing off the to-do list!
 
Instead, I began to contemplate some of the things I need to try to let “die,” or let go of, in order to allow my acorn self to be planted.
 
The list we made earlier is similar in many ways to the list I made for myself.
 
What if Moses and Jesus were offering us examples of what this “dying before we die” looks like?
 
What if it is a foreshadowing of death and resurrection, but not of actual, bodily death and resurrection.
 
What if, instead, it is a spiritual death and resurrection?
 
Moses and Elijah speak with Jesus on the mountain top about his “departure.” The Greek word is the same as the word “exodus.”
 
In other words, they are talking with Jesus about his own death.
 
Peter suggests that they put up tents and just stay together on the mountain. Then Jesus would not have to die.
 
But Jesus knows that he must die.
 
Not only must he die a physical, bodily death, but he must show his disciples and his followers how to die to his acorn self before he dies a physical death so that he can become his True, manifested, spiritual self.
 
This brings us back to the question about what we are grasping on to that we might need to allow to die so that we can be planted and see what will grow from our outer shell – our seed.
 
Perhaps we need to let go of achievement as the ultimate goal, as I discovered about myself.
 
Perhaps we need to let go of worry and anxiety.
 
Some of us may need to let go of past hurts that are keeping our light from shining.
 
Some of us may need to break down the walls around our hearts that we’ve built to protect ourselves, but that ultimately keep us from extending our love outward to others.
 
Perhaps we need to let go of distractions, physical things that clutter our lives, or guilt and shame about something from our past that we cannot change.
 
The story of Transfiguration is an unexplainable mystery.
 
But, that mystery ushers us into the season of Lent with an invitation to die so that we can allow ourselves to be raised to new life.
 
Grasping – holding tight to the dirt and the grime that hides our true colours – prevents us from shining brightly.
 
I’d like you to try something with me quickly.
 
Hold your hands tightly in a fist, as though you are grasping onto something for dear life.
 
How does that feel? For me, it feels tense and uncomfortable.
 
Now, slowly open your fists.
 
Does this feel different? For me, it feels like a comfortable release – an opening up – an invitation to receive what God may be offering me.
 
Lent invites us to release what we are grasping on to and wash ourselves of any grime and dirt so that our light can shine through brilliantly and beautifully.
 
By pointing us toward the cross (and resurrection) the Transfiguration story prepares us to enter the season of Lent with hope rather than fear or doubt.
 
So, as we enter the Lenten season, I invite you all to ponder this question of what you may need to “die” to in order to fully live.
 
It is not an easy question. It is one that you may need to ruminate on throughout the Lenten season and beyond.
 
But it is a question worth asking, and Lent invites us to do so.
 
Moses and Jesus show us what happens when God sees us.
 
This notion of letting go – of dying – so that what God sees in us can shine for the world to see – is the Good News of the Transfiguration.
 
May we wash ourselves of the things that keep us from shining brightly. God can always see beyond the dirt and grime. May we open ourselves up so that we can see what God sees underneath.
 
May we delight in God as God delights in us. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
Holy One, today we are grateful for so much. The sunshine, the blue skies, the warmer weather, and even the wind that has helped move the warm air and melt most of the snow and ice. We are grateful for the transformation from cold to warm, from winter to spring-like weather. Even as we know we are not fully through the winter, this transformation gives us hope for the future.
 
In the same way, the Transfiguration gives us hope for the future. We are grateful that you see through the things we are grasping and holding on to. We are grateful that you see our light underneath whatever dirt and grime the winter of our hearts has covered us with. We pray that you would help us let go of or die to the things we hold tightly to such that we could allow our brilliant light to shine for all to see. God, we delight in you just as you delight in us. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
I would like to start today’s message by reading a story I found recently in a book by Cynthia Bourgeault called The Wisdom Way of Knowing.
 
The story she shares she calls “Acornology.”
 
It goes like this:
 
“Once upon a time, in a not-so-faraway land, there was a kingdom of acorns, nestled at the foot of a grand old oak tree.

​“Since the citizens of this kingdom were modern, fully Westernized acorns, they went about their business with purposeful energy… and they engaged in a lot of self-help courses.
 
“There were seminars called “Getting All You Can out of Your Shell.” There were woundedness and recovery groups for acorns who had been bruised in their original fall from the tree.
 
“There were spas for oiling and polishing those shells and various acornopathic therapies to enhance longevity and well-being.

​“One day, in the midst of this kingdom, there suddenly appeared a knotty little stranger, apparently dropped “out of the blue” by a passing bird.
 
“He was capless and dirty, making an immediate negative impression on his fellow acorns.
 
“And crouched beneath the oak tree, he stammered out a wild tale.

​“Delusional thinking, obviously, the other acorns concluded, but one of them continued to engage him in conversation: ‘So tell us, how would we become that tree?’
 
“ ‘Well,’ said he, pointing downward, ‘it has something to do with going into the ground… and cracking open the shell.’
 
“ ‘Insane,’ they responded. ‘Totally morbid! Why, then we wouldn’t be acorns anymore!’ ”

​The point of this story, of course, is that an acorn is only a seed.
 
Its true destiny – its True Self – is to become an oak tree.
 
But, when you are an acorn looking around at other acorns, it would be impossible to believe that any one of you could grow into a mighty oak tree.
 
The size difference alone makes it impossible to believe!
 
The Message
 
How do we apply this parable, if you will, to ourselves?
 
We assume that the person that moves around the world making choices and doing our thing is who we are.
 
But, really, that person is the acorn. Inside the acorn is a vastly more majestic destiny and a True Self who lives within it.
 
But this oak tree of ourselves can only come into being if it lets go of its acorn.
 
But, this journey toward full selfhood is more than just an awakening. It involves a letting go that is also a dying.
 
This sounds an awful lot like Paul’s words in the 1 Corinthians passage we heard today: “What you sow does not come to life unless it dies.”
 
In other words, the seeds you plant cannot not come to life unless they die.
 
The seed – the acorn – in its natural form, must “die” in order to grow into its full and True Self.
 
Paul says our bodies are planted as our natural bodies, but raised as our spiritual bodies.
 
He goes on to say that if there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. The spiritual did not come first, but the natural, and after that, the spiritual.
 
Finally, he says “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.”
 
Our “natural selves” – the acorn part – the seeds of our True Self cannot inherit the Kingdom of God. Only our spiritual selves – our True Selves – are able to do that.
 
From the same book, Cynthia says, “The ‘Kingdom of Heaven’ is not a place we go after we die, but is a way of being present here and now that makes us transparent to the light.”
 
But what does this mean?
 
The Sufi mystic Rumi explains it this way:
 
The Mystery of “Die before you Die” is this:
That the gifts come after your dying and not before.
Except for dying, you artful schemer,
No other skill impresses God. One divine gift
Is better than a hundred kinds of exertion.
Your efforts are assailed from a hundred sides,
And the favor depends on your dying.
The trustworthy have already put this to the test.
 
The acorn must “die” in order to become its true, destined, manifested self. And, we must “die,” too, to become our True Selves.
 
Essentially, what Paul is referring to, is surrender.
 
This idea of surrender is the transformation from the “acorn self” to the “oak tree self,” brought about by an act of letting go.
 
Contrary to popular opinion, surrender is not cowardice.
 
Surrender is an act of spiritual power because it opens the heart directly to wisdom and energy.
 
We must let our attachments to things, to patterns of behavior, and to old ways of thinking die. We must surrender ourselves to the possibility of new ideas and new ways of being in the world.
 
And of course, like most of the things that Jesus and other prophets and teachers in the Bible and throughout history suggest, surrender is not easy.
 
Surrendering to this type of dying requires presence and awareness that we are often blind to.
 
Let me offer an every day example of this type of surrender.
 
One day when I was still living back in Wisconsin, I’d had a stressful day and had a lot on my mind.
 
I was waiting for a friend, and they were running late, so I decided to go for a walk through a nearby marsh.
 
I was annoyed and having a hard time letting go of the negative feelings I had toward the day.
 
I was caught up in my own “stuff,” not really paying attention to anything at all.
 
Then, suddenly, I walked near the marsh and stopped dead in my tracks.
 
All I could hear around me was a cacophony of sound – the marsh was consumed by the sounds of water, bugs, frogs, birds, wind, etc. I had never heard so much noise happening at once.
 
I was mesmerized. In an instant, every worry and concern I had disappeared as I listened to the noises in the marsh.
 
I stood there listening for at least 10 minutes, until my cell phone ringing brought me out of my trance.
 
I hadn’t even realized that much time had passed, and now I was late to meet my friend!
 
I had surrendered in that moment to the delight of the life-giving sounds of the marsh.
 
And, I was able to relax enough to notice the life quite literally buzzing all around me.
 
This is a small and simple act of surrender – a dying of sorts to the negative energy I was holding which allowed space for a truer, more delightful and positive energy.
 
It is a small example of what Paul is trying to convey to the Corinthians.
 
Remember, the Kingdom of Heaven is not a place we go after we die. It’s a way of being present here and now that makes us transparent to the light.
 
Sometimes, being present to our own realities can be quite difficult.
 
I was stressed and grumbly and, quite frankly, I was not particularly happy to be “present” in that moment fully. I would rather have been somewhere else.
 
In fact, I probably had wished several times that I could be somewhere else.
 
But, that marsh drew me back to my present.
 
Perhaps I had a glimpse of this notion that the Kingdom of Heaven is a way of being present here and now.
 
I wonder how much the 1 Corinthians passage and this new thought about the Kingdom of Heaven ties into the Luke passage we heard today about loving our enemies?
 
In the world today, it seems that loving our enemies has become harder and harder to do.
 
Jesus tells us to “do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”
 
This can, at times, feel difficult or even impossible.
 
And yet, we are reminded to be fully present in the moment. Fully present with our negative feelings toward our enemies, while at the same time blessing them and praying for them.
 
Whew! That’s tough!
 
But I’m reminded of a body prayer I learned recently that can help when we’re feeling some heavy feelings of negativity toward our enemies, or toward life in general.
 
Some of you may remember the prayer that I offered back in October when I was sick with COVID and we met online.
 
I’ll share it with you now as the conclusion to this sermon. We’ll do it together 3 times, so feel free to join in from your seats if you wish.
 
The prayer is a reminder to be present in the moment, just as we are, just as the world is. Even if we come with bad feelings toward someone or something. Even if we are feeling down or defeated like I was that day at the marsh.
 
This reminds us to be fully present and to be open to surrender so that we can see the world for what it is, even as we are feeling bogged down with our own worries and cares.
 
The prayer goes like this:
 
1.   Here I am… as I am
2.   In the world… as it is
3.   Supported by the earth
4.   Floating in the cosmos
5.   Awake
6.   To the heart of love
 
*Repeat 3 times*
 
May you be fully present and alive as you leave this place and you go about your business this week.
 
May you see yourself as the acorn, ready to be planted and fulfill your destiny as the mighty oak.
 
May you love your enemies and find yourself in the Kingdom of Heaven – not a place to go after you die but instead, a way of being present here and now that makes you transparent to the light.
 
Amen!

​The Message
 
Today’s sermon was hard to come by. The scriptures we heard today should have been easy to think of something to preach about.
 
And yet, as any pastor will tell you, sometimes it is difficult to determine where to go on any given Sunday morning.
 
As I pondered the scriptures and tried to figure out what God might want said, I remembered a poem by Marianne Williamson that I want to share.
 
I am actually going to read it twice, pausing in between to allow her words to sink in.
 
It goes like this:
 
Our deepest fear
     is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear
     is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light,
     not our darkness,
              that most frightens us.
 
We ask ourselves,
     who am I to be brilliant,
              gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
 
Actually, who are you not to be?
 
You are a child of God.
 
Your playing small
     doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
     so that other people
              won’t feel insecure around you.
 
We were born to make manifest
     the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us;
     it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
     we unconsciously give other people
              permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
     our presence automatically liberates others.
 
Silence
 
I’ll read it one more time:
 
Our deepest fear
     is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear
     is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light,
     not our darkness,
              that most frightens us.
 
We ask ourselves,
     who am I to be brilliant,
              gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
 
Actually, who are you not to be?
 
You are a child of God.
 
Your playing small
     doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
     so that other people
              won’t feel insecure around you.
 
We were born to make manifest
     the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us;
     it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
     we unconsciously give other people
              permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
     our presence automatically liberates others.
 
Jeremiah says that “blessed is one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”
 
Blessed are we who trust in God.
 
Like the tree planted by the water, we do not fear our own light.

​We are children of God, and as such, diminishing ourselves – shrinking our own being such that we take up as little space in the world as possible – hides the glory of God that is within each of us.
 
The tree that Jeremiah describes isn’t afraid to take up its space along the stream.
 
The tree knows that spreading its roots allows it to be nourished, to grow leaves, and to fulfill its purpose as part of God’s creation.

​And, like that tree, we must allow ourselves to rest in the nourishment of God’s grace and love.
 
Jesus says “blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are you who hunger, blessed are you who weep, blessed are you when people hate you.”
 
In other words, blessed are those of us who are frightened by our own light within.
 
Blessed are those of us who do not let our own light shine for fear that others will put our light out.
 
The tree planted by the stream is not anxious about what it is or where its water will come from.
 
There is a sense of peace and contentment, of trust and delight.
 
The tree trusts fully in that stream – in God’s grace that allows it to bloom each season.
 
And so it should be for us.
 
But, both Jeremiah and Jesus caution us today, as well.
 
The tree does not fear or worry, but the tree also does not believe that it became the mighty tree it is of its own accord.
 
The tree would not be sturdy, lush, and green without the stream.
 
Jeremiah warns us of this. He tells us that “cursed is the one who trusts in man… and whose heart turns away from the Lord. That person will be like a bush in the wastelands.”
 
And Jesus also gives a warning: “woe to you who are rich, woe to you who are well fed, woe to you who laugh, woe to you when everyone speaks well of you.”
 
In other words, be careful not to become so arrogant that you might believe that you have come into riches, or fulfillment, or contentment of you own accord.
 
We should not cover our own light – the parts of us where God shines through.
 
But neither should we assume that light within us is ours and ours alone.
 
Likewise, the tree should not assume that it is lush and content on its own. Without the stream, the tree would be no more than a bush in the wastelands.
We are children of God. Diminishing the light of God within us does not serve the world.
 
We are nourished by God, like the tree is nourished by the stream.
 
For example, not too long ago – perhaps a couple weeks – I had been going through a streak of not sleeping well.
 
I lifted that to God one night and just asked that God might help me to sleep well so I could be the best version of myself when I woke up.
 
I woke the next morning having slept better than I’d slept in a long while.
 
I sprung from bed, excited to start my day.
 
I ate breakfast and showered, going through everything I hoped to accomplish that day.
 
I made tea and sat down to read and journal a bit, and as I did, I suddenly remembered my prayer from the night before.
 
While I was subconsciously grateful for the great sleep, I also woke assuming I had slept well because of something I had done.
 
I relaxed before bed, I journaled, I prayed, I stretched, I drank a cup of herbal tea – I allowed myself the proper wind down.
 
It was all me! I slept well on my own!
 
And then I remembered my prayer and realized that I could in no way assume that everything I’d done had been the reason for my good sleep.
 
Those were the same things I did every night before bed.
 
The difference was that I had taken “nourishment” from God. I had planted myself by God’s stream, and asked God to nourish me.
 
And then I woke up and didn’t thank God. I didn’t even acknowledge the stream of nourishment that I’d so desperately planted myself next to the night before.
 
Woe to you who are rich. Cursed is the one who trusts in man.
 
I realized just how it easy it is to assume I’m on my own, and that God is nowhere to be found, when all along, I have planted myself such that I can readily drink from that stream of nourishment that God provides.
Blessed are those of us who are poor in spirit – who hunger for the presence of God and don’t necessarily notice when God is flowing right beneath us.
 
And blessed are those of us who are afraid to spread our roots, worried that by doing so, we might inconvenience others.
 
May you receive nourishment from God’s stream, allowing your roots to stretch along the stream’s bank and nourishing your spirit so that you are able to truly bloom.
 
May you make manifest the glory of God within you.
 
And, may you let your light shine, giving others permission to do the same.
 
Let us conclude with Marianne Williamson’s poem one more time before we pray:
 
Our deepest fear
     is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear
     is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light,
     not our darkness,
              that most frightens us.
 
We ask ourselves,
     who am I to be brilliant,
              gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
 
Actually, who are you not to be?
 
You are a child of God.
 
Your playing small
     doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
     so that other people
              won’t feel insecure around you.
 
We were born to make manifest
     the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us;
     it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
     we unconsciously give other people
              permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
     our presence automatically liberates others.
 
Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
Nourishing God, thank you for allowing us to plant ourselves next to your stream of living water. Help us overcome our fear and let our light shine, giving to others even a small portion of the nourishment you give to us. Remind us that we are your children, and as such, we were born to let our light shine in the world to serve others. Thank you for your regular reminders of your love for us. In your holy name we pray. Amen.

Young at Heart Message
 
I wonder how many of you can relate to this:
 
I used to work as an Executive Assistant at a large company.
 
Of course, that company had a computer network and an entire IT department.
 
Whenever something would go wrong with my computer, I had to call someone in IT to have them help me fix it.
 
Unlike my own computer at home, I was very limited in terms of what I could do to fix my work computer.
 
The one thing I could do, though, was turn the computer off and turn it back on and see if that fixed the problem.
 
Inevitably, every time I had a computer issue, I would turn the computer off and back on, and the issue wouldn’t be fixed. So, I would call IT.
 
And, what do you suppose IT tells you to do?
 
Turn off the computer and turn it back on.
 
And, of course, I would say, “I already tried that.”
 
And what would they say?
 
“Try it again.”
 
What do you suppose happened next?
 
Voila! 99% of the time, when IT told me to turn it off and turn it back on, it would magically work, despite the fact that I already tried that.
 
Here’s another, more recent story that perhaps you can relate to:
 
Some of you may know that a couple weeks ago, my car wouldn’t start.
 
Someone from church very kindly came to jumpstart my battery to help see if that was the issue.
 
We got the car started, and I drove it around a bit – perhaps 15-20 minutes total.
 
I turned the car off, thinking all was well, only to come back out 30 minutes later to a car that wouldn’t start again.
 
Another very kind church member came to jumpstart my battery again, and then followed me to the shop so I could have them take a look and replace the battery if needed.
 
What do you suppose happened?
 
I arrived at the shop, and they did their battery tests, and lo and behold – the battery was working fine. They said it had 85% life left.
 
Of course when you get the vehicle to the shop, they’ll tell you nothing is wrong with it!
 
Just like the IT department assumes you’re either lying or you’re nuts when you tell them you turned your computer off and back on already and it didn’t help, the car works just fine when you get it to the shop.
 
These things might actually be some kind of universal law.
 
We try something – sometimes trying multiple times, or at least giving it quite the valiant effort with no luck – and then the professional comes along and tells you to do the same thing again.
 
You humour them and try again, skeptically, only to look a fool when you said it wouldn’t work, and suddenly, the thing you’ve already tried works like you never tried in the first place!
 
The Message
 
I cannot be the only one who has had experiences like this.
 
Because most of us have experienced this before, we can relate to how Simon Peter feels when they’d been out fishing all night, dropping their nets over and over again and not catching any fish.
 
Then Jesus comes along and tells them to go do the same exact thing they’ve been doing all night to no avail.
 
They go and drop their nets, and voila! Like magic, they catch so many fish that their boat almost capsizes!
 
And now, Peter looks a fool because he told Jesus they’d already tried that.
 
This is basically the 1st century version of the IT person or the auto mechanic appearing to be a magician.
 
Peter has not met Jesus before now. I can only imagine he thinks this is some kind of sorcery.
 
And yet, it is a perfect example of our very human resistance to follow God’s call.
 
We saw it last week when we read from the Book of Jeremiah. When God calls Jeremiah to be a prophet, Jeremiah says, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.”
 
God chuckles at this and says “sure you do!” God touches Jeremiah’s lips, and lo and behold – Jeremiah can speak as a prophet.
 
From our vantage point, we might wonder, “who wouldn’t want to be a prophet and follow God’s call?”
 
As it turns out, a lot of the prophets didn’t initially want to be prophets or follow God’s call.
 
Moses, when encountering the burning bush, says to God, “who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11)
 
Elijah, afraid of Jezebel, runs into the wilderness and asks God to take his life. “I have had enough, Lord,” he pleas. (1 Kings 19: 2-5)
 
Jonah literally ran away from his calling. (Jonah 1:3)
 
Similarly, Ezekiel isn’t too pleased to be carried away by the Spirit either: The Spirit then lifted me up and took me away, and I went in bitterness and in the anger of my spirit, with the strong hand of the Lord on me. (Ezekiel 3:14)
 
And, of course, in the New Testament we see this constant push-back from Jesus’ disciples, starting with Simon Peter by the Lake of Gennesaret.
 
I actually like all of these stories because they all demonstrate just how normal it is to feel uncertainty about our call.
 
And, more importantly, they demonstrate each person’s journey toward what I will call “becoming.” Each of these prophets or disciples becomes exactly who God created them to be.
 
But, part of that journey for each of them was acknowledging their own resistance.
 
I don’t know if you remember, but nearly a year ago during Lent, we spent weeks following Simon Peter’s journey as he wrestled with his call and repeatedly questioned Jesus.
 
I don’t know how many times Simon Peter tells Jesus that what Jesus is asking is impossible, only to be proven wrong time and time again.
 
But it is in Simon Peter’s journey that we watch his story of “becoming” unfold.
 
Are there times in your life in which you have experienced a similar resistance, thinking “ugh, God, I’ve already tried this! Why do you keep pushing me to try again? It never works.”
 
And then, all the sudden, seemingly out of nowhere, you try again and voila! Like magic, the thing you resisted for so long works.
 
I’ll try to give you an example from my own life.
 
For a very long time – most of my life, in fact – I resisted my call to ministry.
 
Well, perhaps more accurately, I wasn’t aware that God was calling me to ministry at all. I did not hear God ask, ”Whom shall I send?”
 
And yet, somehow, despite my resistance to organized religion and Church, I kept skirting around religion.
 
It just kept showing up!
 
I chose to leave the Catholic Church and explored the Lutheran Church in high school.
 
I went to University and studied and explored Buddhism and Hinduism academically, and I explored the Baha’i faith on a personal level.
 
I graduated with a degree in Religious Studies and eventually got a job working for a company at which I got to work with people on their own faith journeys of exploration.
 
I landed a part-time gig as a church office manager.
 
Then my ex-partner invited me to his church, and I very reluctantly went along, which sparked my curiosity about Christianity and prompted me to decide to go to Seminary.
 
BUT, it’s important to note that I had no intention, even at that point, of becoming a pastor. God, by the way, had to have been laughing at this point.
 
Then I found the Moravian Church.
 
Throughout my journey, I imagine God repeatedly felt like Jesus felt with Simon Peter.
 
Jamie! Get it together! I know you’re going to end up a pastor – you can’t get around it. Just get on with it already!
 
But, like Simon Peter, I had to ask a million questions. I had to go in circles a bit.
 
I had to make sure God knew that I’d already tried to get back into religion and the church and it didn’t seem to be working for me.
 
And then, like Jesus tells Simon Peter to try once more, God told me to try again. God kept asking, “Whom shall I send?”
 
And finally, I sighed and said “Here I am. Send me!”
 
Suddenly, I was on a journey of becoming – a path I continue to walk. I continue to wrestle with God, ask hard questions, and, sometimes, resist God’s call.
 
And I bet you do, too. Because we are human. We are no different than Simon Peter.
 
We are each on our own journey of “becoming.”
 
It is beautiful. It can be painful. It can be difficult. It can take us outside of our comfort zone. But it always surprises us and delights us when, like magic, we know we are no longer resisting what God wants for us.
 
Suddenly, unexpectedly, the nets we’ve cast over and over again without success are filled to the brim with metaphorical fish.
 
And Jesus looks at us with a knowing smile and says, “see, I told you. All you had to do was trust me, leave your resistance behind, and follow me.”
 
And in doing so, we humbly begin our journey toward our true self, called by God, setting aside our resistance, and delighting in the joy of becoming.
 
God asks “Whom shall I send?” And we finally respond “I will go. Send me!” Amen.
 
Let us pray:
​
God of compassion, help us to trust you and to welcome your call into your hearts. When we hear you whispering, wondering “Whom shall I send?,” give us the courage to boldly respond “I will go. Send me!” Help us to set aside fear of the unknown and step bravely toward you, setting aside any resistance we may feel. Guide us into your loving embrace and hold us there, delighting in your mystery, your love, your acceptance, and your grace. In your holy name, we pray. Amen.

Young at Heart Message
 
Did you all know that we have in our midst the best guitar player in all of Calgary today, and he owns the very best guitar in the city?
 
Do you want to hear him play a song?
 
John, come on up and play a song for us and show off that amazing guitar you have.
 
John plays us a song.
 
What did you all think? Pretty awesome, right?
 
Wait, it wasn’t awesome?
 
Why do you think it didn’t sound that great? He’s the best guitar player in the city, and he’s playing the best guitar!
 
The problem with his guitar is that, for the strings to work, they have to be held tightly by two points. In other words, the strings need to be holding tension.
 
These guitar strings aren’t holding any tension. As you can see, the strings are very loose.
 
So, when John tried to strum the strings, they didn’t sound right because they weren’t holding any tension.
 
So, even if John was the best guitar player in the whole world, not just in Calgary, and he was playing the very best guitar in the world, without any tension on the strings, he cannot make a beautiful sound.
 
The Message
 
Thank you John for helping us demonstrate Paul’s point in our scripture passage today.
 
We heard one of the most common scriptures read from the Bible about love. 1 Corinthians 13 is often read at weddings as a reminder to the couple of what it means to love one another, even as things get difficult in their marriage.
 
Paul reminds us that love is not always easy.
 
The kind of love he talks about goes far beyond the emotional love that we think of, particularly when we think about the kind of love that couples experience.
 
Paul is talking about something far deeper. He’s talking about the love we experience between ourselves and God, between one another, and the love we hold for ourselves.
 
But, he throws us a word of caution, too.
 
He starts out by telling us that no matter how amazing we think we are, no matter how much better we think we are than others, no matter how “right” we are, without love, we have nothing.
 
Paul says, “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I have nothing.”
 
This is an incredibly humbling statement he’s making.
 
Often, we believe that if we are just good people – if we give what we can, if we volunteer our time, if we extend kindness to others – we are good to go.
 
But Paul says that even if we do all of that, but don’t hold space for love, we have nothing.
 
Now, our actions often say more about us than our words do, so doing these things might be a demonstration of love.
 
But if, instead, we do these things to make ourselves feel good rather than doing it for others, or if we do them for other selfish reasons rather than as a demonstration of love, we ultimately have nothing. 
 
I’ll try to offer an example from an experience I once had.
 
When I first returned to the church, I was attending a non-denominational church. After a few months of attending, I learned that the pastor was an interim, and they were beginning their search for a new pastor.
 
In that process, they invited three potential candidates to come preach to the congregation. The first two came to preach two weeks in a row, one after the other.
 
But the third candidate wasn’t able to accommodate their schedule for over a month.
 
When he finally came to preach, he swept into that church and gave a charismatic sermon in which he spent most of the time boasting about how amazing he was and the wonderful things he did (on behalf of God, of course).
 
He had a way of invoking people’s emotions – people were crying and carrying on in ways I had never seen happen in that church.
 
No one knew this man, and yet he was able to play on their emotions and, in my opinion, manipulate them quite easily to rouse an emotional response that had nothing to do with God.
 
I wanted to run from that place. But I forced myself to stay, and at the end of the sermon, this preacher said something I will never forget.
 
He said “my wife and I are quite prophetic, so if you have been wanting answers from God about something, I invite you to come forward after the service and we can lay our hands on you and God will speak to you through us.”
 
Now, maybe this man and his wife did have the gift of prophecy that Paul mentions in his letter to the Corinthians. Maybe they could “fathom all mysteries and all knowledge.” Maybe they did “have a faith that can move mountains.”
 
But there was no love there. There was no trust.
 
People put their faith in that man that day. God was nowhere to be found. It was entirely about him.
 
That’s why Paul starts this passage with a word of caution.
 
He goes on to say what we most often remember from this passage: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not self-seeking, or easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs.
 
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
 
Paul is talking, just like in last week’s scripture, about wholeness and completeness. You can be the most amazing person on earth, but without humility, without this love that is patient, kind, not envious or boastful or rude, you have nothing.
 
Essentially, you cannot think you are the most amazing person in the world and also be the most amazing person in the world.
 
Truly amazing people love others in the way Paul describes, and they love themselves in the way that Paul describes, but most of all, they love God in the way Paul describes.
 
Loving God ultimately means demonstrating that love toward others, but not for selfish gain.
 
And, while Paul doesn’t say this, I would add that love is risky. We put our hearts on the line when we extend our love to others. We also put our hearts on the line when we commit to loving God.
 
Why?
 
Well, anyone in this room who has ever prayed for something incredibly important to them and has not had that prayer answered likely has questioned God. Perhaps your heart broke a little bit, or a lot, when that prayer wasn’t answered.
 
Perhaps your trust in God waned. Perhaps anger and hurt bubbled over and out and engulfed you like flames, pulling you further from God.
 
Loving God is risky. Opening your heart to other people is risky. There is always a chance you’ll be hurt.
 
And yet, it is often, or perhaps always, worth the risk.
 
As I was writing this sermon, I originally made that statement – that loving people is often, or perhaps always worth the risk – and I moved on to my next point.
 
But as I thought more about this, I realized that I need to say something about why loving is worth the risk.
 
I will admit that opening my heart in this way – to this deep, abiding love – has led to hurt in my past.
 
I think that’s true for many people. We love deeply, and then we lose someone. Or we love deeply and then that person leaves us. Or perhaps even worse, that person hurts us in small ways over months or years.
 
Sometimes, people hurt us so deeply that it can take a very long time to recover. So, what do we do?
 
We put up walls around our hearts which keep us from allowing us to love others deeply.
 
These walls keep us safe, but they also might keep us from taking the risk of loving others as deeply again in the future.
 
But opening ourselves to that risk is worth it because this kind of love goes far beyond the superficial love we see in romance movies or novels.
 
The kind of love Paul is talking about is a love that changes us and the world around us.
 
This kind of love creates a deepness and a richness to life that helps us create purpose and meaning.
 
It allows us to be fully present with people – to hear them, to see them, and to appreciate even the things about them that might not jive with our own personalities or preferences.
 
Even if we end up loving this deeply only to be hurt down the road, it is the kind of love that we would do over and over again, accepting the potential for hurt as part of the value of loving in such a rich and meaningful way.
 
We cannot become wholly ourselves until we have learned to love in this deep, abiding way that Paul speaks of.
 
Much like the best guitar in the world cannot play the most beautiful music without tension in the strings, we cannot be our full, complete selves without this kind of love.
 
We must accept the risk of hurt in order to move fully into our True Self. 
 
We must build trust with ourselves, with others, and with God.
 
That man that came to preach at the church I went to long ago was missing the most important part of his message, which is what wasn’t said. He had not built trust with the congregation. He had not demonstrated kindness or patience.
 
Instead, he was boastful and proud and self-seeking. He felt good about himself by placing himself above the rest of us, and above God.
 
May we learn from my experience, and may we open our hearts to the possibility of this deep, abiding love that Paul speaks of.
 
May we accept the risk of allowing ourselves to be patient and kind, to trust, protect, hope, and persevere.
 
May we rest in God’s loving embrace, extending that same love to those we meet, softening our hearts and breaking down walls we’ve created so that we can become whole.
 
May we remember that love is patient and kind.
 
May we know fully, even as we are fully known, and may we remember that no matter what, these three things remain: faith, hope, and love.
 
But the greatest of these is love. Amen.
​
Our prayer today is more of a reflection on love than a prayer, but I thought it worth sharing. This is a slightly modified version of a reflection called “Love Is,” by Roddy Hamilton.

Love is… hugs
Love is… a kind word or gesture
Love is… when two become one
Love is… friendship
Love is… sharing laughter, joy, and pain
Love is… hard to explain
Love is… unbelievable
Love is… unpredictable
Love is… endless
Love is… protection
Love is… a rollercoaster we’d ride over and over
Love is… a smile
Love is… a heartbeat
Love is… patient
Love is… kind
Love is… a never ending story
Love is… eternal
Love is… a circle of friends
Love is… steadfast
Love is… wholeness and completeness
Love is God, and God is love. Amen.

​The Message
 
How many people here enjoy doing puzzles?
 
I love doing puzzles! In fact, I brought one of my puzzles today as a visual aid.
 
Can anyone tell me which piece of this puzzle is the most important piece?
 
You really can’t tell me which piece is the most important.
 
But, just because we can’t say which specific piece is the most important doesn’t mean that none of them are important!
 
All of the pieces of this puzzle are important. Do you know how I know that?
 
Because when I put this puzzle together and got to the very end, I realized it’s missing a piece.
 
Right smack dab in the middle of the puzzle, a piece is missing.
 
That missing piece sure is important! It might even have become the most important piece simply by not being there.
 
The individual pieces of a puzzle seemingly aren’t all that important on their own until one goes missing. Then we realize just how important each and every piece is if we want a whole and complete puzzle!
 
Sometimes I think we see ourselves as puzzle pieces within our family, our community, or our church.
 
Sometimes we believe we aren’t all that important in the grand scheme of things.
 
Or, we believe that we have to do more, say more, be more, or be better in order to matter to others or to God.
 
I talked with someone once about baptism, and they said they just weren’t sure because they didn’t feel they were worthy. They didn’t go to church enough, they didn’t feel they followed the Bible well enough, and they didn’t read scripture or pray enough.
 
I’m sad to say that church often teaches people to believe that because they aren’t good enough Christians, they are unworthy of God’s grace.
 
Often, people think they must be perfect before they can enter God’s kingdom or receive God’s grace and love.
 
People think they must be the perfect puzzle piece – the best piece in the box, shining before God and perfectly molded to fit into whatever box the church has taught them they must fit into.
 
But we hear Paul saying something different in his letter to the Corinthians.
 
How many of the people of Corinth do you think were feeling unworthy to be part of the Christian community?
 
I’m guessing quite a few if Paul had to tell them these things.
 
The passage right before today’s was the one we heard last week about spiritual gifts.
 
Paul is working hard to convince the people of Corinth that they matter! Not only do they matter to God, but they matter to each other.
 
Paul uses the analogy of the human body to illustrate his point.
 
He says, “The body of Christ has many different parts, just as any other body does.”
 
He goes on to say that no matter our background, no matter our current position in life, we are each baptized by the Spirit and have been made a part of the Body of Christ.
 
Just like our bodies don’t have just one part, neither does the church body have just one part.
 
One might argue that unlike a puzzle, in which all pieces are equally important, our bodies do have some parts that are more important than others.
 
However, tell that to someone who is missing one of those “insignificant” parts!
 
The parts of our bodies all work together to help us function.
 
Certainly, we can get by without some parts of our bodies.
 
However, try telling someone who had major organ issues that certain parts aren’t important!
 
My dad had heart issues. That particular body part is pretty darn important. But, when they treated the issues he had with his heart, that process destroyed his kidneys.
 
Fixing the kidneys required impacting his already weakened heart.
 
Not to mention the toll his medications took on his GI tract, his liver, and his muscles!
 
Paul’s point, as he says, is that “God put our bodies together in such a way that even the parts that seem the least important are valuable. He did this to make all parts of the body work together smoothly, with each part caring about the others. If one part of our body hurts, we hurt all over. If one part of our body is honored, the whole body will be happy.”
 
Likewise, we are all part of the body of Christ.
 
Each one of us, with our own unique gifts and talents, with our own fears and insecurities, are part of Christ’s body.
 
Each one of us is worthy to be a part of Christ’s body, and that is important for us to remember.
 
We don’t just believe in Christ, we are a part of Christ! And in this way, it is an honor to be part of Christ’s body.
 
Jesus was not raised from the dead as an individual, Jesus was raised from the dead in a community.
 
And, to this day, we have the privilege of being a part of that community!
 
And in that unity with Christ, we are not called to merely love one another. We are all a part of each other.
 
Paul is suggesting something much bigger than ourselves.
 
Paul is suggesting that we are all connected; we all have something to offer; and we all need each other.
 
We need each other’s individual gifts, all of us different and all of us necessary, like all the different organs in a body, or parts of a living cell.
 
All the parts are distinct, but only as part of the whole. So when you love your neighbor as yourself you don’t just love them as much as you love yourself, you love them as part of yourself, as yourself!
 
This is a radical suggestion that Paul is making, because it sure can be difficult to love some people as much as we try to love ourselves, let alone to love them as part of ourselves!
 
Think about someone you know of who you find incredibly difficult to be around, or who holds such vastly different views from you that you just cannot fathom loving them.
 
Now, imagine loving that person as a part of yourself.
 
That is not easy!
 
But, in some ways, it might be easier to think about loving the parts of ourselves that we don’t always like. Perhaps the person that came to mind has some qualities that you see in yourself that you don’t always like.
 
If we think about it in this way, we could imagine working to love those parts of ourselves that we don’t always like, and then working to try to love other people as though they are also a part of us.
 
It makes me think about Paul’s example of the eyes saying they don’t need the hands, or the head saying it doesn’t need the feet.
 
Maybe sometimes our heads think we don’t really need our feet.
 
But at the end of the day, it would be much harder for our heads to navigate the world without our feet, and it would be difficult for our eyes to navigate the world without our hands.
 
Our eyes cannot pick things up and hold them. Our eyes cannot know how something feels merely by looking at it.
 
Our eyes cannot hug a loved one, or hold our partner’s hand, or play an instrument, or determine if something is hot or cold.
 
Likewise, we may think we don’t need certain people in our lives, and perhaps we don’t need to be close to them. But those people we don’t fully understand or don’t get along with are valuable to the world, too.
 
They are also a valuable part of the body of Christ. Without them, the body is not whole.
 
So, as Paul encouraged the people of Corinth to love one another and think of each other as members of the same body, let us leave here with a better understanding of what it means to be part of the body of Christ.
 
Let us remember that we are worthy of God’s love and we are a welcome addition to the body of Christ, and so are our neighbors, our friends, our families, and even our “enemies.”
 
May we remember that we are called not just to love one another as we love ourselves, but to love others as a part of ourselves.
 
May we remember that we all help to bring wholeness to the body of Christ. We are connected and we need each other just as we need God.
 
This may not always be an easy task, but it is a necessary task as we imagine a world in which all people are worthy to sit at the table with Christ as part of his body. Amen.
 
Spirit of the living God, we praise and adore you for empowering us to claim membership of the body of Christ, a gift received through the fullness of your grace. Remind us that we are all members of the one body and if one member suffers, we all suffer. May we, as the body of Christ in this place, be the best evidence of your love by declaring and witnessing to this as the year of the Lord’s favour for all people. We give thanks that all of us are Christ’s body, and rejoice in each one being a part of it. Accept our adoration and praise for these great gifts. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
I know this isn’t great timing, but I have to be honest with you, I’m starving. I really need a snack.
 
Do you all mind if I have a quick snack?
 
It’ll only take a minute - I promise - and then we can get back to our regularly scheduled worship service.
 
I have some bread here in case of a hunger emergency, but I don’t have much else to make a sandwich.
 
Is there any chance any of you have some peanut butter?
 
How about jam? Anyone have jam?
 
OK, now I need a knife, and probably a plate too.
 
And, this is embarrassing, but can anyone tell me how to make a peanut butter sandwich?
 
*We work together to make a peanut butter sandwich*
 
Wow, thank you all so much for working together to help make sure my stomach doesn’t rumble too much during worship!
 
It was pretty lucky that some of you thought you might need a snack during worship today too and brought stuff to make a peanut butter sandwich.
 
But, like me, none of you had everything you needed to make a sandwich.
 
Each of us had just one important part of the sandwich-making process.
 
But, by working together and combining the items we brought, we were able to create a sandwich that we could all benefit from (if we cut it into small enough pieces).
 
And that is how you do a sermon on Spiritual Gifts! We all have our own gifts, we should all use those gifts to help each other, and we should respect and honour the gifts of others. Amen!
 
The Message
 
OK, that’s not really the end of the sermon.
 
But, that is often how sermons on Spiritual Gifts go, isn’t it?
 
Some variation of “we all have gifts and we should use them to work together and help others.”
 
Except, as with most things, it isn’t always that simple.
 
When I was in grade 7, I was asked to do an oral report in Social Studies class as a partner project with my cousin.
 
I don’t remember preparing for that report at all, but I do remember giving the report. The only thing I remember is that we took turns giggling throughout the entire thing.
 
I don’t think we even managed to present anything coherent to the class. You would not have believed then that I would be public speaking for a living today!
 
I think that was probably when I started to dislike having to do group projects in school.
 
In theory, I understand the benefit of group projects. But in reality, it always seems that no matter what, a few people tend to do all of the work on a group project, and then everyone gets the same grade, regardless of how much work each person put into the project.
 
Now, I’ve had to do a few group presentations more recently as part of my seminary experience, and I will say that it has gone slightly better.
 
But in general, group projects can be difficult.
 
We like to think we can each use our own gifts and talents to benefit the group, but often we end up doing something we aren’t well-suited for, or something we don’t really want to do.
 
Sometimes, no one else wants to do that piece. Other times, no one else has the skill set, and you don’t either, but you come closer than some of the other people.
 
I remember my very first year at dog sports camp in Montana, we had a group relay event at the very end of camp.
 
It was a competition which involved four different activities that the dogs had to do: a short agility course, lure coursing, nose work, and carrying an egg on a spoon without breaking it as you walked your dog on leash.
 
A different person had to do each of the activities so that each member of the group did one thing with their dog.
 
My dog was a Bernese Mountain Dog. He wasn’t suited for agility, nose work, or lure coursing. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things.
 
The only thing he could do was walk politely on leash so I could carry an egg on a spoon without breaking it.
 
Did I really want to do that activity? No way! I would have preferred one of the other, more exciting, activities. But, my dog’s skill set only allowed him to do the boring egg-carrying activity.
 
Group “projects” can be challenging, and while we each hope we can divide the work evenly and each person can use their individual gifts and talents, it doesn’t always work out that way in practice.
 
Take ministry, for example. It happens in ministry, too, that the same people tend to do most of the work, or that people end up doing work they aren’t really suited for because no one else will.
 
And, we shouldn’t be surprised by this. It happens in every group when people come together to try to meet a common goal.
 
Even Jesus acknowledged that the labor to laborer ratio is unbalanced in Matthew 9:37, when he said “the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few.”
 
Churches ultimately are an investment in people, for better or for worse.
 
We support the work we believe we have been called to do. But, we cannot be expected to do that work alone, and we cannot bear the burden of doing the work of ministry on our own.
 
We need one another. That is why Paul reminds us so emphatically in his first letter to the Corinthians that every gift given by the Spirit was given for the common good.
 
Every gift was given for the benefit of the entire community of which we are a part.
 
As bearers of these gifts of the Spirit, we are called to use them to benefit our own church community, and the world around us.
 
But, very often in churches, the same people end up doing all the work because they believe that if they don’t do it, no one else will.
 
So, even if they aren’t enjoying the work, or if they have started to burn out on the work, they continue to do it because of this belief that it is their burden to bear and no one else’s.
 
But, it is also true that this is often not the case at all. Sometimes, people don’t step up to do certain work because someone else is already responsible for it.
 
So instead of offering to help, they figure they aren’t needed because others are already doing the work.
 
This is how the same people tend to end up doing the bulk of the work, and how misunderstandings can happen.
 
It is also possible that those who have been doing the work a long time have a hard time passing the baton to someone else.
 
These are the dynamics that happen in every church community or organization that invest in people.
 
There are always ways we can use our own spiritual gifts and remain involved in ministries even as we encourage and uplift others and bring them alongside us to do the good work that we do.
 
It doesn’t have to be an either/or. It can be a both/and scenario.
 
We can simultaneously do the work we have been doing for a very long time while also encouraging others to join us in that work, inviting them to use their own gifts and bring along new ideas to support the work we already do.
 
Sometimes, as difficult as it might be, doing group work may mean stepping aside and allowing others to use their own spiritual gifts to benefit the community as well.
 
We are not called to do this work alone. If we can lift each other up, encourage, and support one another, we may just see that more people start getting involved, and it feels less like the same people are always doing all the work.
 
Uplifting one another and celebrating each other’s gifts is what we are called to do with one another.
 
So let us leave here today ready to do the work we are called to do, but also ready to encourage the gifts of others.
 
When we become a member of a church community, we automatically become part of one big group project.
 
The only way we remain successful in ministry is if we celebrate the gifts we were given and the gifts others were given, and use all of them to make the most delicious (metaphorical) peanut butter sandwich around. Amen.
 
Generous God, we thank you for the gifts of the Spirit which you have bestowed upon each of us. We pray that you would guide us and teach us to use the gifts you have entrusted us with, and we pray that you would help us wisely encourage others to use their gifts. Together, we pray that you would help us work to make your world a better place. In your Holy name, we pray. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
Who remembers learning how to ride a bicycle?
 
I remember my journey toward learning to ride a bicycle like it was yesterday because it was an incredibly important experience for me.
 
I wanted to learn how to ride a bike so badly because I idolized my Dad, and he knew how to ride a bike.
 
He promised that once I learned to ride, we could ride together, and we could ride around town for longer rides.
 
I was also secretly motivated to learn to ride because I desperately wanted to be able to ride my bike to school by myself.
 
I was young – probably 4 years old – when I started begging my Dad to teach me. I wanted so badly to “grow up” and ride a “big girl bike.”
 
As most kids do, I started learning to ride with training wheels.
 
The training wheels gave a sense of security and safety – if I started to tip a little to one side or the other, they would catch me and keep me from falling.
 
However, because I was in such a hurry to ride a “big girl bike,” I didn’t want to use the training wheels for very long before I begged to have them taken off.
 
For a few rides, my Dad would hold onto the seat of the bike to keep me from falling over until I got up enough speed to ride.
 
But I wasn’t quite steady enough on the bike, so I fell quite a few times.
 
My Dad couldn’t be there all the time with me, so when I would play outside, I would grab my bike and practice in the grass.
 
This was pretty smart, if I do say so myself, because when I inevitably fell, it didn’t hurt.
 
You’ll be happy to know that by the time I was about 5, I was riding a bike without any assistance.
 
The only problem I ever had after that was when my shoelaces would get caught up in the pedals, and I couldn’t pedal backward because at that time, pedaling backwards hit the breaks.
 
But I fixed that problem by making sure I fell onto the grassy curb when it happened.
 
(I also could have tucked my laces in my shoes, but we won’t mention that!)
 
Much like learning to ride a bike, there are times in life when we might face challenges or uncertainty that require a little extra support.
 
In those times, God is there for and with us, supporting us, guiding us, and helping us along.
 
Much like the training wheels, or my Dad holding onto the seat of my bike, or even the softer grass to land on, God is right there with us.
 
God can’t prevent us from falling, but God can be with us as we do.
 
Isaiah 43 has so many useful nuggets of wisdom:
 
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
 
What if instead, we imagined Isaiah to say something like this:
 
“Do not fear! I have called you by name and you are mine.
When you desperately want to learn to ride a bike, I will be with you. And when you outgrow your training wheels, falling shall not overwhelm you; when you do fall, you shall not be hurt, and if you are, I will guide you to the soft grass so you can have a safe landing. Do not fear, for I am with you.”
 
God isn’t saying that life won’t throw us challenges! But, when we are in the midst of those challenges, God asks us not to be afraid and to trust that God is with us through it all.
 
God is in the metaphorical training wheels of life, and God is there when we get brave enough to remove those training wheels and try things on our own.
 
God is there when we inevitably fall, and God is there when we get back up and try again!
 
The Message
 
Now, I love the passage we read from Isaiah today. It might be one of my favorite passages in the entire Bible.
 
I love the idea of God calling me by name and reminding that I belong to God.
 
I love that this passage reminds me that through all of the challenges of life, God is right there with me. I also love that God so explicitly says that I am loved.
 
I love the Isaiah passage, and I would love to preach only on that scripture today.
 
But we hear an important passage from the Gospel of Luke today, too, and I think it would be helpful to talk about how these two scriptures work together.
 
In the Gospel of Luke, we heard two connected but distinct stories.
 
First, we heard about John the Baptizer, baptizing people who wonder if he is the Messiah.
 
And John, instead of relishing in his potential 15-minutes of fame, humbly tells people that while he is baptizing them, someone more powerful that he is coming – someone who is so powerful that he is not even worthy to undo the straps of his sandals.
 
John doesn’t allow himself to be overwhelmed by the people who seem to be idolizing him.
 
Instead, he makes way for Jesus – the one he believes is the true Messiah.
 
Secondly, we read that John baptizes the people, but he also baptizes Jesus.
 
This is a momentous occasion in itself, but then the heavens are opened and the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove.
 
Everyone hears a voice from heaven that says “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
 
Talk about the excitement of God calling you by name!
 
I feel warm and fuzzy inside when I read Isaiah, but I can only imagine how Jesus would feel when this voice from heaven calls him by name, declaring him God’s Son!
 
Jesus of course is humble, but he is also fully human. It had to have felt good to have such a strong declaration made in front of so many people.
 
But it also validated John’s claims that Jesus was the Messiah, and of course it was one of many more miracles that helped people understand who Jesus was.
 
The wonderful thing about reading the Isaiah passage and the Luke passage together is that it gives even more power to the Isaiah passage because Jesus demonstrates for us what it means for God to call us by name.
 
We might not each get a voice from heaven declaring us God’s offspring, but we do each belong to God, and that is a wonderful gift.
 
Throughout the Gospels we see examples of God calling Jesus by name and using Jesus to do good in the world.
 
But Isaiah tells us that we are also called by name.
 
We lead by example, and we too belong to God.
 
We are each created with our own unique gifts which God calls us to use to make this world a better place.
 
It can be scary to think about using our gifts and talents in new or different ways.
 
But, much like learning to ride a bike, God is right there with us.
 
In our training wheels, in another person holding us steady as we get up the courage to do it on our own, and in a soft place to land when we fall, God is there.
 
We belong to God, and that is a wonderful and beautiful thing.
 
When we pass through the waters, God will be with us, and through the rivers, we shall not be overwhelmed. When we walk through fire, the flame shall not consume us.
 
We are loved. We are cared for. We are surrounded by God’s embrace.
 
We are called by name, and we belong to God.
 
Let that Good News follow us wherever we go. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
God of safety and security, thank you for being our training wheels, our support, and our soft place to land. Even in the busyness of life, through the challenges and storms, you ride with us, placing a hand on us to steady us, and carrying us when life becomes too much for us to bear on our own. Belonging to You is a blessing, and we are overwhelmed with gratitude for your love. In your Holy name we pray. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
I want to start today’s message by showing you some drawings.
 
These drawings were originally commissioned by Armand Gervais, a French toy manufacturer in Lyon, for the 1900 World Exhibition in Paris.
 
They were intended to imagine what the future would look like in the year 2000, 100 years after the World Exhibition.
 
The first 50 of these “paper cards” were drawn by Jean-Marc Côté, and they were designed to be enclosed in cigarette boxes.
 
However, Armand Gervais began producing them in 1899 but died during production, so they sat in the closed-down toy factory for nearly 100 years.
 
So, the cards never saw the light of day until 1986, only 14 years from the year 2000.
 
Let’s look at a few of these cards to see what people in the year 1900 thought the future might look like.

It’s an interesting exploration, and I wonder how we might depict the year 2125 if we were asked to draw what the world will be like then?
 
Of course, the people in 1900 could only imagine a world based on what they knew about their current world.
 
And, we could imagine some things based on our current world, but technology changes so quickly now that it’s difficult to predict.
 
The world is constantly changing, and we are constantly changing, too.
 
We can’t even fully predict how tomorrow will go for us.
 
We can make plans, and we can assume things will go to plan, but until reality actually occurs, it’s impossible to know for sure what tomorrow will bring.
 
The Message
 
And this is where we encounter the Magi in our scripture today.
 
Their world was essentially turned upside down when they saw the star that they followed to find Jesus. That journey wasn’t originally in their plans.
 
And then, once they made the journey, they planned to travel back by the same road because they believed Herod when he said he wanted to go and worship the new “King of the Jews.”
 
But then an angel came to them in their dreams and told them that Herod had different intentions.
 
So, to protect the baby and his family, they chose to change their plans and go home by a different road.
 
The scripture doesn’t give us a lot of details, but I imagine that changing their plans in this way was not an easy decision.
 
They were in a foreign land, and they didn’t have access to GPS like we have today.
 
They had to choose to take an unfamiliar path – one that could be dangerous for them and filled with the unknown.
 
The path they thought they would walk was no longer an option to them, so they had to re-evaluate and make a decision that they were not expecting to make.
 
And that is the lesson I want to focus on in today’s scripture.
 
The paths we walk are not straightforward either.
 
Many of us were taught to stick to the “straight and narrow” path growing up.
 
But what does that even mean?
 
Most of us have had enough life experience now to know that the path is never straight.
 
No matter how hard we try to plan our route, to plan our future, to anticipate what’s coming next, we never really know.
 
And closing ourselves off to the possibilities also closes the door on what God may be wanting for us.
 
If we live our lives in such rigid ways, we may miss some beautiful opportunities for personal growth and evolution, but we may also miss out on things that could make our lives better.
 
One thing I continue to learn and be reminded of as I do the pastoral work that I do is that we are never guaranteed tomorrow.
 
Tomorrow may come, but what we had planned may not be what happens.
 
Life can change in an instant, so expecting our path to be ”straight and narrow” just sets us up to be unable to cope when the path suddenly turns in a different direction.
 
Being aware of the possibility of our path changing unexpectedly helps us to be grateful for where we are on the journey, and reminds us not to take our present moment for granted.
 
Experience has told us that the road is never straight, no matter what people might want us to think.
 
So, if we keep this in mind, we know not to take for granted what we have today.
 
Knowing that the path isn’t straight helps us remember to do things like love more deeply and to tell people we love and care about them.
 
Because we don’t know what tomorrow holds and we aren’t guaranteed that our path will continue in the same direction tomorrow that it’s going today, it is helpful to live in the moment rather than living too much in the past or the future.
 
The Magi demonstrated for us this notion of living in the moment and not being so dead-set on following the straight path they thought they would be walking.
 
Instead, they were able to show Mary and Joseph a profound love for the baby Jesus that ultimately saved his life.
 
They remind us that it’s OK if our journeys haven’t looked like we thought they would.
 
So, as you navigate twists and turns, stay curious and open to where God might be leading.
 
May you find the courage to explore new routes and the wisdom to follow the One who will never leave or forsake you.
 
May each new path be a chance to trust God and discover deeper truths about the love that will never let you go. Amen.
 
God of starlight, We long to follow you. Like the Magi, we want to pick up the hems of our robes and run in your direction. Like the Magi, we want to kick up dust with our feet and make a joyful ruckus following your guiding star. Unfortunately, the stars can be hard to see from here. Your still, small voice can be hard to hear from here. So just as you guided the Magi, guide us, so that we can follow you. With hope in our hearts we pray, Amen.

Sermon References:
Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.