“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.
“The way of the cross”
Mark 8:27-38 (September 15, 2024)
Thursday evening, Lindsay and I were getting ready for our walk. We do that every night. We walk through the neighbourhood. About a half hour or so, just to clear our heads, get some fresh air and a bit of exercise. Half an hour together, at the end of the day, is no bad thing! I don’t know if you remember, but Thursday was a drizzly day. Cloudy and wet. So before we left that evening, I checked the weather on my phone.
These little devices are amazing things! They’re not simple telephones. They give us access to all kinds of news and information. They have different ways of communicating. I can even remotely turn on one of the electrical outlets in my kitchen, so the coffee machine is ready when I get home. It’s incredible!
I opened the weather app. And it said: Light rain for 19 minutes, then stopping. Rain again in 40 minutes. And I said to myself, “That’s pretty detailed information.” I opened the back door and discovered it wasn’t raining at all! And I thought, “Can I trust this weather app?”
Weather is notoriously difficult to predict. “Rain for 19 minutes.” It seems to me like this app pretends to be smarter than it actually is.
It’s a “know-it-all” app. And know-it-alls can be annoying, claiming to know everything about this and that. Even when they don’t.
What we have in our gospel story today is an example of someone claiming to know things about Jesus.
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He’s on a journey with his disciples, travelling through the villages of Caesarea Philippi, a place of shrines and temples dedicated to pagan gods. It’s a teachable moment. And it sparks an important conversation.
Viewing his surroundings, Jesus asks, “Who do people say that I am?” The disciples respond with rumours they’ve heard. “Some say John the Baptist; and others Elijah; and still others one of the prophets.”
“But you,” says Jesus, specifically asking his closest friends, “who do you say that I am?” Now it gets personal. In matters of faith it always does.
It doesn’t matter what the rest of the world thinks of Jesus. Or what your parents thought of Jesus. Or the church. Or your friends. Or someone who’s written a best-seller, a celebrity on TV. What matters is what you think. Jesus looks at each one of us, waiting to hear what we will say.
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Peter was the first to jump in. “You are the Messiah.” “Messiah” in Hebrew or “Christ” in Greek. Both mean “anointed one.” The one anointed by God.
But now things start to get tricky. Because the common understanding of Messiah was associated with power and strength, the vanquishing of enemies, the establishment of God’s reign by force. The guy with the bigger gun always wins.
Jesus “sternly ordered the disciples,” not to go preaching that! Instead, he offers a radically different vision of who he is and what his life, in service to God, and all humankind, will consist of. If Messiah is the correct answer, it’s not the kind of Messiah that Peter thinks.
How often do we say the right words and still not get it right?
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Peter seems like a pretty smart guy. He’s got an instant answer to the question Jesus asks. But he’s shocked when Jesus begins to push him further.
From that moment on, Jesus “began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” Suffering, rejection, death ….
Now hold it right there! Peter can tell this is headed in absolutely the wrong direction. He grabs Jesus and pulls him aside. “Wait, you can’t be serious!”
It’s a cheeky move. Peter, the disciple, trying to correct his teacher. Attempting to re-direct Jesus at this crucial point in the gospel story.
We all have these pictures of who we desperately want Jesus to be. But he does not conform to our expectations. Jesus, the anointed one of God, does not answer to us. We’re not in charge. Jesus will be the Christ that God wants him to be.
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A disciple is supposed to be a learner. A disciple is a student. And these disciples, including Peter, have been following Jesus for some time. They’ve been part of a select group of friends, privileged with easy access and hours of instruction. They’ve listened to Jesus’ teaching and observed his ministry first-hand. But they still don’t get it. There’s still so much for these disciples to learn!
Well listen, isn’t there more for you to learn as well? Or do you have it all figured out? This enigmatic figure named Jesus. The great mysteries of a God who created the entire universe. The complexities of your own personal faith. If you think you’ve got all that sorted, well congratulations! But I think, like the weather app on my phone, you may be a little overconfident.
“Slaves are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them.” (John 13:16) We are not the boss of Jesus!
However long we’ve been followers of Jesus, there is always, always more to learn. The church, through the centuries, sometimes gets off track. But Jesus patiently calls us to return. To learn, and re-learn, and try again. To go deeper in our relationship with him. To go further in our journey toward his kingdom vision. We don’t become fully fledged disciples overnight.
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There’s a great story in the Gospel of Mark about the healing of a blind man. It’s only found in this one gospel. And it’s found immediately before the passage we read today. This is no accident.
In the story of healing, Jesus puts saliva on a blind man’s eyes and lays his hands upon him. Then asks, “Can you see anything?” And the blind man answers, “I can see people, but they look like trees walking.” And this is odd. Doesn’t Jesus usually get things right the first time?
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Christ_and_the_pauper.jpg" width="282" height="53" />Obviously, this is not going to be an easy miracle. So Jesus lays his hands on him a second time. And now, scripture says, “he saw everything clearly.”
Here’s what I think this story is telling us: The healing of the disciples will be a challenging project. You and me, we are not an easy fix! Jesus touches us once, and we can see – some things, sort of. But our sight is still fuzzy.
Here is Peter, the disciple. And he’s been granted a miraculous insight. “You are the Messiah!” he proudly proclaims. But he’s only half got it. Peter needs a second touch.
I guess we all do. A first touch, to open our long-blind eyes and show us the light. And a second touch to help us see more clearly. And then, I’m thinking, probably several more touches throughout our lifetimes, to illuminate and better focus our vision.
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It reminds me of a visit to the optometrist, where you look through a couple of peepholes and the doctor moves the dial switching various lenses and flipping them over. “Which is better, this or this?”
Our hope is always to see better.
I think also of that 12th century prayer made famous in the musical “Godspell”:
Day by day, Dear Lord, of thee three things I pray:
To see thee more clearly,
Love thee more dearly,
Follow thee more nearly,
Day by day.[1]
It doesn’t happen overnight. Our vision, like Peter’s is clouded by cultural expectations. Mistaken assumptions. Peer pressure. Personal preference. What we want Jesus to be, instead of what he really is.
Let me pause there and ask, “What might be clouding your vision?” Can you pray that God will reveal the Christ to you and enable you to follow the light?
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I said “follow” … because we don’t get to know him truly until we step out of our comfort zone and begin to act. The walk of faith is meant to encompass our whole being. Including who we are and what we do.
Faith that’s only shallow talk means very little. Which is why the next thing Jesus says to Peter and the disciples is even more challenging. Do you remember?
“If any want to be my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
It’s fascinating that the cross, of all things, has become the universal symbol for followers of Jesus. We put them on our churches. We hang them around our necks. Muslims have a crescent moon, Jewish people have the star of David. But Christians have a cross.
So what might a cross-shaped life look like for you and me? At the very least, I think it means that we let go of our own self-interest and embrace the kingdom way. A way of loving, serving, giving, God-honouring. A Christ-centred way of life.
The apostle Paul tells us that, in our baptism, we are buried with Christ. We die to sin so that we might rise with him and walk in newness of life. (Romans 6:4ff.)
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We’ll hear more about this again next Sunday. We’re only half way through the gospel of Mark. And like those first disciples, we have much to learn.
Today we stand with Peter, feeling a little humbled. Did he speak too soon? Did he claim to know too much? Perhaps it was a necessary step on a much longer journey.
We say what we can. But we’re meant to say it in a spirit of humility. Because, Lord knows, we could be mistaken. We may be partly right. We haven’t plumbed the full depths of God’s will and purpose for our lives.
But we surely want to, don’t we? I know I do. I want to keep moving forward with Jesus, learning the full dimensions of the reign of God.
The church is not for know-it-alls. The church is for stuttering, stumbling disciples of Jesus who’ve caught a glimpse of something beautiful, and want to know more …
“To see thee more clearly,
Love thee more dearly,
Follow thee more nearly,
Day by day.”
May it be so! Amen.
[1] St. Richard of Chichester, 1197-1253, "Day by Day", in The Hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States of America, 1940, Hymn 429. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_by_Day_(Godspell_song) (Accessed September 13, 2024.)
