“In a hard place”
Daniel 6:6-27 (December 1, 2024)
Welcome, everyone, to Advent – this time of year when we learn how to wait for the coming of Christ. And to help us today, we have an unusual reading for the season: from the book of Daniel.
It’s a really great story! A well-known one, for those of us who grew up in Sunday School. Daniel in the lion’s den. What might this story have to say to us, I wonder – living in the world we do, waiting for the Christ to come?
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The story begins with some familiar things. There’s a crowd of people who’ve got it in for Daniel. Why? Because he’s not one of them. He’s a Jew living in exile.
Here, in this story, we see human rivalry. Jealousy, conniving, manipulation. Prejudice and the politics of power. Sound familiar? Turn on the news tonight and see what you think.
There are people who don’t like Daniel. So they devise a scheme to get rid of him.
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One day they sidle up to the king, and say, “O King Darius, may you live forever!” And this king is susceptible to flattery. He likes to have his ego stroked.
They tell him he should issue a command that anyone who prays to any god, or man other than him – should be thrown into a lion’s den.
It pleases the king. He signs a document. And the scene is set.
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How does faith respond to all this turmoil I our lives? How do we live as Christians among others who may not share our values? Who do not follow the way of Jesus?
Do we lash out, push back, try to grab the levers of power for ourselves?
When Daniel heard the document had been signed, he went back to his house. There, in the upper chamber, was an open window that faced toward Jerusalem. It was Daniel’s practice to pray there three times a day.
He prayed to the Hebrew God, not to the gods of the surrounding culture. Not to the gods of the state. And certainly not to a pompous man.
The law declared: “Pray only to Darius.” Daniel determined: “I will pray to God.”
So that’s what he did, knowing full well that someone would be watching. And that when he was reported, there might be serious consequences.
He meant no disrespect. He was happy to serve the king. But there was a line he would not cross. Not even to save his life.
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Now let me stop there and ask, have there been times when you gave in to pressure and compromised your values? Acted to preserve your place or position? It’s a rare one who has never made some accommodation.
Perhaps we allow things to slide a bit, and then a little more. And before we know it, we’ve drifted a long way from being the kind of people we want to be. The kind of people Jesus calls us to be.
“Seek first the Kingdom of God,” Jesus says. But we let other priorities take over. “What will it profit anyone to gain the world but lose your soul?” he asks. But the world has its attractions and it’s not easy to do the right thing.
This story invites us to examine our priorities. What comes first? To whom do we owe our allegiance?
It’s a simple question. But in the real world, at least the one I live in, it can be hard to untangle all the messy threads that weave their way through complicated relationships, difficult decisions, contested areas of life. The choices we have to make are not always simple.
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What did Daniel do?
He shrugs his shoulder and goes home to pray. He does this in plain sight of all. He’s not rattled by threats, but is steadfast in his spiritual practice.
It’s a brilliant response to the turmoil of the world around him! Evil’s lurking, edicts are ordered, chins are wagging. So? What else is new?
I’m wondering if you have a spiritual practice? What keeps you anchored when the world is shaking? What centres your life and holds it firm?
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I was at a funeral, not long ago, for a friend of mine. One of his grandchildren spoke at the service. He told of coming to stay with his grandparents. His grandfather was an avid reader, as was he, and they would sometimes discuss the books they were reading.
When his grandfather came to visit his family, several months later, the grandson noticed he was still reading the same book! “Grandfather, haven’t you finished that yet?”
“No, I’m not finished,” he replied. “This is my Bible, you see.”
The Bible’s not the kind of book you ever “finish” is it?
What is your spiritual practice? It’s hard to stay rooted in the love of Christ without one.
Our habits can be sporadic. In Advent we’re invited to renew these things. If you don’t have a practice, it’s time to begin one.
Lindsay and I have been reading from a devotional book. In the morning we drink our coffee, light a candle, share a reading, and reflect on it.
I guess you’ve heard: we’re having an Advent Bible Study here at the church and also at Bethany Manor. We read, share, sing, pray.
This is one way we can prepare our lives for the coming of Christ. This is how our faith is strengthened.
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But back to the story. Things are getting tense. Daniel is outed by his rivals, who are secretly rejoicing.
The king, however, considered Daniel to be one of his top officials. He realized, now, that he’d been manipulated into passing this ordinance. But what could he do?
He stewed and fretted. As he gave the command for Daniel to be cast to the lions, Darius said, “May your God, whom you faithfully serve, deliver you!”
Did we just hear the king of the Medes and Persians praying to the Hebrew God? It’s hard to say. But I’ll tell you this: there was no one in the kingdom more concerned for Daniel’s safety than Darius. What will happen next?
We’re waiting to find out. What kind of God does Daniel have? Is this God one who saves? When powerful forces conspire against us. When legal systems let us down. Will the LORD come to the aid of faithful souls?
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At the break of dawn Darius arrives at the den of lions. “Daniel,” he cries, “O Daniel, servant of the living God …” Can you hear the anxiety in his voice?
“Has your God whom you faithfully serve been able to deliver you from the lions?” He waits.
And now a voice arises out of the dark den below … proclaiming something about an angel!
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I love this picture on our bulletin cover. Those wild lions look stunned and mesmerized. They don’t seem very ferocious, do they? One of them appears rather playful.
Daniel kneels calmly in prayer while this unseen, lion-taming, angel does its work.
They haul Daniel out of the pit, unscathed. Not a scratch!
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“Do not put your trust in princes,” writes the Psalmist, “in mortals, in whom there is no help. … Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God.” (Psalm 146:3-5)
Where is our hope? In whom do we trust?
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King Darius rounds up the conspirators and throws them into the den – a rough form of justice, I suppose.
Then he issues a proclamation, that in all his royal dominion “people should tremble and fear before the God of Daniel: For he is the living God, enduring forever. His kingdom shall never be destroyed. … He delivers and rescues, he works signs and wonders in heaven and on earth …”
It's nice to see a humble ruler who knows his place.
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But wait. Does God always save? If you find yourself in a hard place, will God always, always, step in to bring release?
I ask because maybe some of you have been praying and wondering, in the darkness of whatever trial you face, why help has been so long coming.
In a few moments we will pause on this First Sunday of Advent to remember those whom we have lost. People die. Sometimes disease is not cured. And prisoners do not escape.
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I was reminded this week of one of our forebears. But you probably know this story better than I do! Dirk Willems was a Dutch Anabaptist, condemned by the Church of Rome for his beliefs and arrested in 1569.
He managed to escape from prison, using a rope made out of knotted rags. He crossed a frozen moat. But the guard pursuing him fell through, yelling for help as he struggled in the icy water.
Willems turned back to save his life, embodying Jesus’ teaching to love our enemies. As a result of this, he was recaptured and burned at the stake.[1]
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There is much that is unknown in our life of faith. Sometimes God does not save in the way we expect.
One thing I do know is that our world is very much in need of a Saviour. As am I. Advent announces the coming of One who has been through death and returns to us with the gift of life.
Christ is coming! Not only as the little child of Bethlehem, but as the Saviour of the world who brings an everlasting kingdom. May we welcome this coming Christ. Amen.
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirk_Willems
“The providence of God”
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17 (November 10, 2024)
Do you remember last week, how we read the first part of the book of Ruth? That may be a lot to ask – since I myself can barely remember my message from week to week. So for those of you who are scratching your heads and wondering “what did he say?”, let me briefly remind you.
The story opens with a Hebrew woman named Naomi, who faces a series of tragic events in her life, one after another: A famine strikes. Her husband dies. Her children die as well.
And it pulls us right into the story because, of course, it’s heart-wrenching to see all this. And maybe you know someone who has also faced some enormous difficulty. And maybe, if the story fits, you can even see yourself in it.
How would we ever get through these things if we had to journey by ourselves?
There’s a poignant line in that first chapter, when Naomi tells her daughters to go away. “Turn back,” she says. Don’t stick with me. “It has been far more bitter for me than for you because the hand of the LORD has turned against me.”
Did you hear what Naomi just said? “The hand of the Lord has turned against me.” She’s trying to make sense of all that has happened – from a theological point of view: Why is this happening? And where is God in the midst of it?
These are “God-questions.” All of us, at some level, are theologians. Maybe you never thought of yourself that way, but when you’re thinking about God that’s what you are.
The conclusion Naomi reaches, is rather devastating: “God has turned against me,” she claims! How else can she explain it? It seems to her that God, the source of life itself, has somehow borne a grudge against her.
We can understand how she might feel that way. But also, understand this: How such a thought would make her slough of despond even darker! What an awful thing.
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So, was Naomi right? Well, that’s not the God we’re presented with in this biblical story. All we’ve read so far is the opening scene. It’s not the conclusion of the matter.
In today’s scripture reading, we jumped to the final bit. And, as you can see, there is a stunning turn-around. Naomi coaches Ruth on how to present herself to her kinsman, Boaz, who has an obligation under Hebrew law to look after his relatives.
Romance is followed by a promise. Then a marriage. And then a child is born. So widowed Ruth finds a husband. And Naomi has a descendent, an heir to land and riches. And both are embraced by the community of God’s people.
What started as tragedy has just as suddenly turned into blessing. Which is not to minimize the early pain of this story – those days were definitely not easy. But by the time we get to the end of it, the pain begins to fade and a new and promising horizon opens up before us.
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We’ll talk more about this in a minute. But for now, let me say that all of us are somewhere in the middle of our stories and we cannot possibly see the conclusion of them.
When we’re surrounded by darkness, we cannot see the light. And yet we know this: Just because a dark cloud fills the sky is no reason to think the sun above has ceased to shine.
No, sooner or later, that cloud will break. And rays of warmth and light will come streaming through. And the world, or at least our vision of it, will be transformed.
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On the front cover of your bulletin is a series of vignettes created by the artist John Swanson. The pictures show us individual episodes from the book of Ruth. It reads the same way as you would read a comic strip. When you go home this afternoon, have a closer look and see if you can recognize some of the scenes.
When you find yourself in the midst of any one of those episodes, you only have small part, a tiny fragment of the whole. So it is with all of us. What happens today or tomorrow or in any one season of our lives is only part of a larger whole.
Only as we stand back from it, when all the pieces are finally fitted in like a puzzle, only then can we see meaning or significance of any individual moment.
All of which is to admit that, at any given moment in time, we know so little! We humans, who are subject to all kinds of limitations, we don’t get to stand outside the daily drama.
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One of the things this story assumes is that there is another character at play. You thought the only significant personalities were Naomi, Ruth and Boaz, didn’t you? But wait, there is another! One who does stand apart from the tiny movements of our lives.
The Bible assumes the larger presence of God is everywhere, all the time. Even when we cannot not see it. Or comprehend it.
In all the many twists and turns of our lives, we never walk alone. Like disciples of Jesus on the Emmaus Road, we are accompanied by a traveller whose true identity remains hidden. Until suddenly it’s not!
In the opening of scripture, in the breaking of bread. A voice, a touch, a movement, a prayer … there is a flash of recognigion. And it’s enough to make us leap for joy. Or shed tears of gratitude. And send us running to tell a friend.
We are not alone! Through all our living. There in the midst … walking, waiting, guiding, inviting … there is God.
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And the recognition of that cosmic reality changes everything.
At the beginning of the story, Naomi’s life is filled with sorrow and hopelessness. But now, at the end of the book, we see that tragedy has turned to blessing. New light has dawned.
Those separate frames you see on the front of your bulletin are just momentary glimpses. Now that we’re at the end of the book we can stand back and take in the whole blessed thing. Just as God sees our lives from beginning to end.
Naomi’s neighbours turn to her and say, “Blessed be the LORD, who has not left you this day … He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age …”
So this widow whose future seemed doomed, finds security. She who had lost her family is gifted with loved ones. “That daughter-in-law, Ruth, is more to you than seven sons!” her neighbours declare.
Now she has a little one to hold and treasure. “Naomi took the child and laid him in her bosom ….”
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Then finally, the narrator lets us in on a secret! None of the characters in the book of Ruth would ever realize this. Our lives are short. But our legacy is long.
I believe this to be true for each and every one of us. The legacies we leave are as important as the lives we live. Your words, your actions – they ripple out, affecting things far away and long into the future.
Listen as the legacy of this child is revealed: Obed (that’s the baby’s name) became the father of Jesse. And Jesse the father of David!
This child will bring forth, eventually, the greatest, best-loved king in the history of Israel. Who knew? Who knows half of what our lives may mean!
Each of us is called to live our days in the confidence that God will use them. And that somehow, somewhere, the good we bring to the world will be fitted in with God’s ultimate purpose for creation.
Obed becomes the grandfather of David. But it goes even further! David becomes the ancestor of … well guess who? The Christ who comes to bring salvation to all the world. So this one little story becomes a story that impacts us all!
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Theologians speak of God’s providence. By which they mean they mean the way that God provides for us. God gives us what we need.
Providence can also mean that God’s will prevails. That God’s purpose will not be thwarted.
As we live our lives, each of us has a part to play. And we need to do that as best we can. Naomi cooks up a plan for her daughter-in-law to encounter Boaz. “Now wash and anoint yourself and put on your best clothes and go down to the threshing floor.” Plans are made, details set in place.
But human scheming can only go so far. Because the Spirit of God is at work, moving in and through our human actions. We do what we can. And the rest we leave to God!
“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
Think of Israel’s forebear, Joseph, sold into slavery by jealous siblings, transported to Egypt, and there rising to the highest office in the land. So that when food was needed in a time of famine, Joseph was there to help.
“Even though you intended to do harm to me,” he said to his frightened brothers, “God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people.” (Genesis 50:20)
I think of the Easter story and the power of God to take our human sin and turn it all around. So the cross, an instrument of suffering and shame, becomes the source of forgiveness and healing for all humanity. From death comes new life!
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The providence of God works in wondrous ways! And far be it from me to explain all this. But I do trust it. And today I invite you to trust it as well.
On this Remembrance Day weekend, when we are very much aware of the destructive forces that have and continue to swirl in the world around us, wreaking havoc, bringing death and suffering to so many … When events and politics and personalities cause us to be full of anxiety and fear … Can we trust that God is with us? That God is working, even now, in ways we may not see?
Here’s what I believe: That trusting is simply a better way for us to live.
Apart from faith, our lives are full of anxious worry. Dark clouds that overshadow our world may even cause us to despair. Yet faith believes the sun still shines. Even if we cannot see it.
Faith inspires us to work for good. To love our neighbours. To be agents of justice and peace. We cling to the promise that good will win. Love will triumph. Ultimately, evil will not prevail.
Can we trust this providence of God?
Just as importantly, can we act on that trust? Because faith without works is dead, you know. It’s not really trust at all.
In so many little ways, you and I are called to do our part. Even though we may never see the end result.
We live for a kingdom that is bigger than any one of us. Bigger than our church and all the churches put together. It transcends the ages and bounds of human history.
We live for God’s kingdom. We pray for it. We trust our lives to a God whose kingdom never ends and whose love will never fail. May it be so! Amen.
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“Have salt and be at peace”
Mark 9:38-50 (September 29, 2024)
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The beauty of a franchise operation, like Tim Hortons, is that you can walk into any of their shops, from British Columbia to Newfoundland, order a chocolate donut and a large double-double, and it will be, more or less, the same.
If you want to open a Tims, there are very strict requirements. You will have to prove your financial worth, pass a series of interviews, and be willing to undergo rigorous training.[1] It’s all tightly controlled.
After you’ve opened the store, you must continue to meet a certain standard. There are audits and inspections. They don’t want anything to sully that Tim Hortons brand.
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What’s happening in our scripture reading today is something like that. The disciples must think the church is meant to be a franchise operation. They want to exert control over “who can make the donuts” – who can minister in Jesus’ name.
Who’s allowed to do these healings? What authority do they have? When someone comes along from outside their own tight-knit circle, the disciples get defensive.
“Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.”
The disciples tried to stop him. Even though this unnamed disciple was doing Jesus’ work. Jesus’ first miracle, as reported in the Gospel of Mark, was casting out a demon. (Mark 1:21-28) He brought health and healing.
Now, this outsider, a person unknown to the twelve, is doing the very same thing! Notice – he’s not doing it isolation. He’s doing it in the name of Jesus!
See how word gets around? The gospel spreads, the kingdom grows!
Like a seed that’s planted in the soil and, mysteriously, it sprouts and sends up shoots, and soon leaves begin to appear.
The plant grows, though the farmer “knows not how.” “The earth produces of itself first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head.” And then, when the time is right, comes the harvest. (Mark 4:26-29)
According to Jesus, this is how the kingdom works. God’s power of new life is released into the world. And we see signs of it springing up all around us.
We don’t always understand where it came from. But we rejoice whenever we see it. We praise God for the mysterious working of God’s Spirit! The kingdom has power all its own. It does not depend on us.
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The disciples want to put the kibosh on all this kingdom randomness. They’re uncomfortable when things happen outside of their control.
Many of us have this tendency too. I love when things are done a certain “proper” way. You can ask my family about how I load the dishwasher, and my reluctance to allow others to do it differently!
“There’s a right way to do things,” I say. But Jesus calls me to loosen up a bit. Not be quite so restrictive in my outlook that I miss the surprising way God’s kingdom comes.
“Teacher, we tried to stop him. Because he was not following us,” they say. With an emphasis on that little word us. Doesn’t that say it all? He’s not part of our crew.
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Jesus encourages us to have a broad and generous spirit. To acknowledge a kingdom that’s bigger than our bureaucratic regulations. He opens us up to the wonder of a world where God is always at work, and often in surprising ways.
“Do not stop him!” Jesus says. “That’s the last thing I want you to do. Don’t discourage that poor fellow. For no one who does a deed of power in my name will speak evil of me for long. He’s a friend, not an enemy. He’s on our side!
We’re so quick to separate the world into us and them. We, of course, being Jesus’ closest friends. But those other people over there, we’re not so sure. We view them with suspicion. Even when they claim to be following the same Lord.
Does this strengthen the witness of the church? Does it encourage the growth of God’s kingdom? I’m not saying we shouldn’t be discerning about right and wrong. But sometimes we get it all mixed up.
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Do you remember, last week, how Jesus took a child and set it in the midst of the disciples, and told them that “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and not only me but the One who sent me.”
I don’t think they heard a word Jesus said! They’re still caught up in competition, arguing about who’s the greatest. Certainly not that fellow over there. Why he’s not even part of the franchise.
How wrong they are!
And now we come to the middle section of our passage for today where Jesus speaks some of the most difficult words you’ll ever hear. I warned Melita about these verses she’d have to read. Someone over heard that and called this scripture “sobering.” Which it certainly is.
Listen: “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me,” Jesus begins. The tone is ominous.
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But who are these little ones? Are they children?
“Little ones who believe in me.” Followers of Jesus, who put their trust in him, but don’t necessarily have everything all worked out just yet. Unlike the disciples, who think they know it all.
Little ones who believe … “Like that other disciple who was trying to do my work. Until you stopped him!” Does Jesus sound annoyed?
Little ones … “Like the person who received the healing and was just beginning to find new life. Until you lot came along!” Can you hear Jesus’ growing anger. He’s not happy with the disciples.
“It would be better for you” … get ready for this … “If a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.”
Yikes! He couldn’t be talking to us now, could he?
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What follows are several verses that have to do with cutting limbs off and plucking eyes out. And we don’t quite know what to do with all that. Are we meant to take these words literally?
I would suggest that Jesus does not want you mutilating your God-given gift of a body. I think this is an example of literary hyperbole. A way of speaking that uses exaggeration to get our attention. And it works!
When Jesus says “better to cut your hand off than go to hell,” we all sit up and take notice.
This is a thorny passage and I know I’m treading on dangerous ground. I don’t want you to take it literally. But I would love for you to pay serious attention.
Can I remind you that the kingdom of God is the greatest treasure that you will ever find? It’s the pearl of great price. It’s the field for which you’ll sell everything you have in order to buy. (Matthew 13: 44-46)
The kingdom should be the #1 priority of your life! It’s the one thing you never want to miss. And you don’t want anyone else to miss it either.
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“So listen, you disciples! Quit your petty power trips. Stop being so hard on others who are doing their level best to follow my way.
“Whatever is keeping you from living in the Reign of God, get rid of it!
“Stop trying to be in control. Show some kindness. Exercise humility. Care for little ones, all kinds of little ones. Welcome any who bear my name. Even if they’re not from your clan or tribe or religious denomination.”
Am I going too far? What sins might we need to let go of in order allow the kingdom to come in all its fulness. Who might Jesus ask us to welcome? Perhaps these are questions that each one of us needs to consider personally.
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Next Sunday, we’ll welcome some wayward Baptists to our fold. Just for one service, mind you.
But as we’re together, we’ll gather at the table of our Lord. We’ll remember what he did to draw us into his family. And we’ll celebrate the love of Jesus that transcends all the labels and barriers we like to erect between us.
Yes, we may live our Christian faith in different ways. We may have different customs and practices that we value. But these fade in significance when we recognize our common calling. We are followers of Jesus. We’re little ones, struggling to learn his way.
And so, in worshipping together, we bear witness that God’s kingdom is bigger than any one expression of church. And that our lives are open to the surprising and wondrous work of God.
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But now we come to the final couple of verses, before Mark has Jesus leave that place and continue his journey to the cross.
This section of teaching ends with two things: Salt and peace. “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”
When I think of salt, I think of ways Christians are called to be different. Everything that makes us unique.
Be salty people. People who have the Spirit of Christ within them. People who live with joy, trusting God’s grace, seeking justice, practising humility, living with neighbour-love.
Be salty people. Live as Jesus lived.
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And be at peace with one another. Stop this hyper-competitiveness. Serve others as Jesus served. Seek the well being of all. Strive for right-relationship. And where tensions exist, don’t make them worse. But work for reconciliation.
Salt and peace. Aim for that. And let go of all the rest.
The good news is that God is at work in our world, in us and in others. Sometimes the reign of God appears in plain sight. And sometimes it sneaks up and surprises us. We catch glimpses of it in people and places we never expect.
But wherever we find it, and in whomever the life of Christ takes root, we rejoice and humbly give thanks. We are not alone. God is working in our midst! Amen.
[1] https://company.timhortons.com/ca/en/corporate/franchising-program.php, Accessed September 26, 2024.