When the Epiphany is Elusive Matt 4:12-23
Comox United Church, Jan. 16, 2022
Rev. Debra Bowman
“The church that does not suffer is not the church of Jesus Christ.” (Desmond Tutu, God is Not a Christian and Other Provocations). Well, that’s a bit of a showstopper isn’t it. Desmond Tutu doesn’t pull any punches. The church that does not suffer is not the church of Jesus Christ.
Wearing both my hats here: as facilitator of the visioning process and part of the temporary ministry team, I have spent a lot of time wondering about God’s mission for you, the people of Comox United Church. How are you being called, in this ever so fraught time, to live out your faith? I’ve been wondering, discerning, stewing, obsessing. Sometimes an epiphany - as Phil explained last week, a manifestation of God - comes with such suddenness and brings such clarity that the ones who experience the epiphany immediately make radical changes in their lives in order to follow the epiphany, the star, the beckoning of God.
Other times, perhaps much more often, we scramble around looking for that epiphany, for that clarity of God’s presence, and that certainty of God’s purpose for us. We pray and we watch, we attend workshops and read all the current books on finding our true selves, or as church geeks, we read everything we can in our search to find the beckoning star that will animate the life of our congregation.
Along with your Visioning Group and your lay leadership I have been waiting for even a holy hint of what next for Comox United. And then, God only knows why, for some reason when I read this quote by Desmond Tutu, it felt like I was seeing maybe the faint light of a far-off star. I know it’s a bit brutal – ‘A church does not suffer is not the church of Jesus Christ.’ I don’t actually think that God is asking you to engage in such infractions of the country’s laws that you will be facing 27 years in jail as Tutu’s contemporary Nelson Mandela was. Nor any kind of crucifixion. But, but, is the way forward something that will make you uncomfortable? Sometime ago I read that where there is friction in an institution, where there is some heat and tension, right there on that spot is where a new vision is wanting to emerge.
When I first arrived at Ryerson United Church about 15 years ago, I was immediately propelled into a very heated conversation about floor covering in the sanctuary. The conversation wasn’t so much about carpet or no carpet, but rather, how much carpet. A former staff member responsible for theology at the national church had buttons made that said ‘Carpet belongs in bedrooms, not churches’. Others thought all we needed to do in order to freshen up the place was to carpet from one exterior wall to another. With underlay. To make a long and quite painful/suffering story short, two things came out of the experience. Some of the brand-new carpet was ripped out to allow for music to be heard more clearly. And the congregation identified as part of its animating mission a call to be a centre for the arts, particularly through hosting community choirs. That part of their mission only emerged through the pain of hard conversations about why or why not the sanctuary should be carpeted. It wasn’t a crucifixion but let me tell you, there was no shortage of pain and suffering as we worked our way through that conversation, as we parsed what the Epiphany star manifesting itself as a carpet was trying to tell us.
As I say this, I am aware that your formation as the congregation you are now came through a very difficult, painful, suffering time. The congregation was torn apart in 1988 with the decision to allow for gay and lesbian members to become ministers. The remnant that remained as part of Comox United Church, and the clergy leadership you had in the decades following, and the ongoing guiding hand of God, formed you into who you are today. So even if you aren’t immediately aware of it, I suspect that talk of suffering and dissention sets off alarm bells for the spiritual angel of this place. Some of you have been there, done that, and didn’t enjoy it for one moment. As we do the work of searching for your animating star, we need to be alert to how any tensions can set off some shivers up your spines, some even unconscious recoiling. And, aware and alert to it, know that the saints of the church and disciples of all ages have walked this difficult path before. That indeed sometimes, Tutu would say always, the way to faithful living involves some suffering, at least some discomfort.
Sometimes we gloss over how early in Jesus’ life and in the lives of the disciples, the struggles and suffering started. In our Gospel reading today Matthew tells us that with the news of John the Baptist’s arrest Jesus withdrew to Galilee. The verb ‘withdraw’ doesn’t mean just shifted location, it means ‘fled’.
But Jesus has not retreated to a safe place, instead he has headed right into the thickness of the Roman empire’s chokehold on the land and the people. “[Roman Emperor] Vespasian and [his son] Titus had claimed control of Galilee, divided the land up among loyal supporters and ensured economic control of the land and resources through taxation of the largely peasant economy. The loyal local elites gained their own power by cooperating with Rome…” The few and the powerful benefited at the expense of the many. (Left Behind and Loving It)
Jesus, indeed the kingdom of God, is aligned against that kind of unjust hierarchy of economy and power. Instead, the kingdom of God aligns with those who were deeply oppressed by whatever empire rules the day. In fleeing to the region of Galilee, Jesus has moved onto Wall Street, into political back rooms and ineffectual summits of global leaders. He has moved into the hearts of those that read about the unmarked graves of indigenous children and quickly turn the page and turn away. He has moved into the centre of wherever God’s kingdom is being oppressed and defiled and he takes up residence there. He has not run from the fire; he has entered into it, fleeing from any complacency he might have been experiencing and into his call.
And there he takes up right where John left off, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” It’s a call to transformation, to an awakening of what time it is in our lives and the lives of the world, and to participate, to align ourselves with God’s will and way for the world. To make our consciences and our commitments congruent with God’s. And really all God wants is for all creation to flourish. It’s not that big of an ask is it?
Jesus invites others to join him. Random people – people he meets in a crowd, people he sees setting out for work, or to their volunteer activities, or the gym. It’s not a well thought out recruitment strategy – it’s happenstance. Inviting whoever he sees in the ferry lineup, at the Church Street Taphouse, at Driftwood Mall and on the hills of Mt. Washington. “Come, follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Nowhere is safe for Jesus. And nowhere are we safe from him.
Last week Phil reminded you that even as you look for guiding stars, you are also and at the same time part of God’s light in the community, stars that might light the way for others. In Matthew Jesus lays on another metaphor – you are fishers, in your attentiveness to where God is calling you, you lure others to the kingdom of God, to live in the common good that God commits us all to serve.
In this season of Epiphany, and in the life of Comox United, we are asking what exactly Jesus is asking us to do, to be. We know he invites us to be part of the light of God, the light that brings hope and trust to those who walk in darkness – but we need a few more specifics. Where are the places where the kingdom of heaven is supressed? Where the light of Christ is needed? What does it mean for us to bring the light, to be the light.
Jesus called on Simon Peter, and Andrew, and James and John to follow him. And they dropped everything and did just that. But with the simplicity of that sentence, it’s easy to miss what that response cost them. They walked away from their jobs. From their families. From any security they had, and whatever security they offered their families. Whatever Jesus is calling you to may involve letting go of some familiarity and comfort as a congregation. Being open to the future can calls on you to thank the past, and let it go. Can you feel the heat of some discomfort arising?
But remember, that often where there is heat or friction in a congregation, there is also the presence of mission wanting to emerge. One place I see potential heat arising here is in thinking about how to use the building. Rev. Jenny Carter offered us insights into how the life and mission of the congregation she serves was transformed when the building was recognized as a resource for mission. Some of the heat, the potential for friction at Comox United, could come in the tug between considering the building as a source of rental revenue or as a resource for mission. Offering space to other agencies that share our values and dreams can mean letting go of space that can be rented out for maximum revenue. But this doesn’t need to be an either/or conversation. It can be ‘and’, seeking a balance and a new way of understanding how we finance and live out our mission.
I’ve been wondering about how your values of serving the common good, creativity, and progressive theology can be lived out in welcoming newcomers to the community, particularly newly retired people seeking purpose and meaning in this next critical time of their lives, of our lives. Also, if you can, in your commitment to the climate crisis, right relations with indigenous people, and the LGBTQ2S community, align with the work of Weird church in Cumberland, who is already and also about this work? You share many of the same values – what can you mutually bring to the table to strengthen it all? How does your value of being socially and theologically progressive align with being a welcoming place for seekers, for newcomers, for the SBNR – Spiritual but not Religious (yes, there is an acronym for this). How can this building host creative ways for people to find their faith and ways to live out their faith, with you and for all creation? How can it offer space to agencies who share your values and dreams, if not your faith? A place where you can cooperate with others who seek the common good, or in Christian language, the kingdom of God.
For all my visioning, discerning, stewing, and obsessing and feeling stuck, I actually do think some possibilities for future goals are emerging. And here’s the good news, if the emerging possibilies make you uncomfortable, if they pinch and maybe lead to a bit of discomfort if not suffering as you work them through, then we’ll know from Desmond Tutu, and from Jesus Christ, that we’re on the right track. Your light is bright and your nets are becoming full.
Yay. And Amen.