Jesus is risen! He is risen indeed! A fine crowd gathered to worship God and celebrate Jesus’ resurrection at St. Paul’s, Nobleton this morning. We rejoiced at God’s gift of new life to us. We read from Isaiah 65 and John 20. You can listen to the message, “20:20 Vision” by clicking here. Near the end of the message, we watched this video.
What does Holy Saturday – the day between Good Friday and Easter – look like for you?
For most of us, it’s a busy day of preparing for whatever Easter festivities in which we may participate: shopping, house cleaning, baking, and such. In short, largely a “normal” Saturday.
Yet, in God’s calendar, it’s hardly a “normal” Saturday at all.
For God, that first Holy Saturday was a day of unparalleled mourning and loss. His only Son lay in a stone-cold tomb, a lifeless body. Does that not deserve some sort of acknowledgement?
In some traditions of Christianity, Holy Saturday is a fast day…a day of mourning and grieving for a death died, a day of waiting and watching for a life to be renewed. A service of “Easter Vigil” is often celebrated on Holy Saturday evening, during which the congregation prepares and waits for the return of Christ, celebrates baptisms, welcomes new members, and invites the Lord’s presence with the church through the Lord’s Supper. It becomes, as the whole Season of Lent has been, a preparation for Jesus’ resurrection.
A death, to be observed well, needs to be mourned and grieved. This takes time, and must be an intentional choice on the part of the mourner. When we lose a loved one, we encourage this grief to take place.
In the cycle of the church’s life, we are invited to mourn a death each year, as we celebrate Good Friday with the church across the globe, marking Jesus’ death on the cross. Do we take time to grieve his death? By making Holy Saturday something that is not “normal”, we can celebrate a weekend that, while celebrated each year, is not “normal”. In this life, we do not see resurrections from the dead. It’s worth paying attention to.
How can your Holy Saturday be different this year? May it make your Easter an even greater celebration.
“Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look around and see. Is any suffering like my suffering that was inflicted on me, that the Lord brought on me in the day of his fierce anger?” (Lamentations 1.12, NIV).
In yesterday’s Federal Budget, Finance Minister Jim Flaherty announced that the government will take measures to plug some of the loopholes in the tax laws that enable people to prevent paying taxes that should rightly be paid to the Canada Revenue Agency. I say “some of the loopholes”, because we Canadians are a creative bunch: when some loopholes get filled, we find ways of uncovering others that we can use, until the government decides to fill those, too.
Loopholes tend to be good news for the taxpayer, and bad news for the government. We’re good at finding them, though, aren’t we?
One time, the great American comedian W.C. Fields was in hospital, and a visitor found him reading a Bible. Not having been known as an avid Bible reader, the visitor inquired as to his purpose for uncharacteristically picking up Holy Writ. His response? “I’m looking for loopholes.”
There are many ways to read Scripture. Some look, in vain, for a vague hint of fine print that will get them out of trouble for some aberrant belief or preferred sin. Others read the Bible to gain information that will help fill their minds. Still others read God’s Word as a love letter, hanging on every word as a message from the Lord.
While all Scripture is equally inspired, not all Scripture is equally applicable. It’s important to remember that, when we read the Bible, God can and will speak to us in different and often very personal ways. But the attitude with which we read it is crucial.
When you read the Bible, are you looking for loopholes, or looking for love?
“People do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4.4, NLT).
In case you missed it, the Roman Catholic Church has a new leader as of this week. Pope Francis is the first pontiff from the Americas, and he has been received with great joy. From this, there is a lesson for us.
Our Roman Catholic friends are a devoted bunch. The vigils that took place outside the Vatican as people awaited the white smoke billowing from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel brought people for as far as the eye could see. And once that white smoke came, there was jubilation – even before they knew the identity of the new pope. Folks were excited to know that their church had a new leader.
What makes this all the more amazing, from a democratic perspective, is that these folks are showing so much joy at the election of a leader over whom they had no say whatsoever. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.
The lesson for us, I think, is multifold. First, trust the process. There is very little that’s democratic about the Roman Catholic Church; it doesn’t pretend otherwise. It’s a top-down system of church government, and the major decisions are made by high-ranking clergy. The decision over who would be made pope was made by 115 men (cardinals) who themselves have been papal appointees over the years. And their decision-making process was one that, they trusted, was guided by the Holy Spirit. Of course, we don’t know what went on in the conclave; but if 115 cardinals can decide, reasonably quickly, that one of their number should become the next pope, there must be something to be said for the process.
Second, trust the deciders. There were people in St. Michael’s Cathedral in Toronto who prayed for their pastor, Cardinal Thomas Collins, every day from the time he left for Rome, that his decision, and that of the other cardinals, would be Spirit-led. And once the decision was proclaimed, no one doubted the sanity or opinion of these decision makers. They accepted it with joy.
Third, support the leader. Because the people trusted the process and trusted the deciders, it became easy to support the leader. True, there may be those who had been hoping, maybe even praying, that someone else would be elected. But nobody is jumping up and down, making a fuss over the election of a new pope. They are rejoicing with the decision that was made, and celebrating with their fellow Roman Catholics that the Lord has guided the process of choosing a new leader.
What does this mean for us? It can apply in our politics, and in our churches.
In our politics, the lesson is that once a leader is chosen, through whatever democratic process we have, we support the leader…even if that person’s politics are not the same as ours. Of course, there is always room for opposition, but it is always, in Canadian parlance, loyal opposition. (Granted, that loyalty, in context, is to the Crown, but as the one who leads on the Crown’s behalf, there is an implied loyalty that comes even amid asking difficult questions.) Too often, at least in North American politics, the opposition (both official and unofficial) has become cruel and personal in recent years. This is not helpful to the cause of governance, nor to the cause of the Gospel that we followers of Jesus seek to live out. Once the leader is chosen, be supportive.
(I know, I know. Hitler was duly elected. But can we call a spade a spade and say that the situation surrounding the Third Reich was an exception rather than normative?)
In our churches, the lesson is that once a leader is chosen, through whatever democratic process we have, we support the leader. Sound familiar? The same concept applies. In my tribe, The Presbyterian Church in Canada, the congregation is asked the following question at the induction of a new pastor: “Do you receive N to be your minister as from Christ?” That’s a pretty serious question. If we believe that our leader has been chosen through a divinely anointed process, and that the Lord Jesus is personally bringing this person into our midst as a leader, it stands to reason that we should support him or her – even when we have disagreements with that leader. That applies to your elders and deacons, too.
This doesn’t mean we can’t air our grievances; what it does mean is that we air our grievances respectfully. In Christian circles, that means following the principles that Jesus set out for us, particularly in Matthew 18.15-17: “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector” (NIV).
The unity of the church for which Jesus prayed (and still prays) will become more real the more we joyfully and prayerfully support our church leaders. I’m blessed to serve a congregation that offers joyful and prayerful support to its leaders, and I hope you do, too.