Table Lessons: What the Grandkids Taught Me About Prayer. A Homily for the Seventh Sunday After Pentecost

A Homily for the Seventh Sunday After Pentecost, 27 July, 2025.  Yr C Readings:  Hosea 1:2-10; Psalm 85; Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19); Luke 11:1-13.  Preached at Prince of Peace, Wasaga Beach, and St Luke's, Creemore, Anglican Diocese of Toronto.

He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”  (Luke 11.1)

Today’s reading from Luke is one of two places in the gospels (the other being Matthew 6.9-13,7.7-11) where Jesus teaches his friends what we know today as the Lord’s Prayer.   The reading raises a question which is worth thinking about this morning:   do we pray in order to ask for specific things, or do we pray because it draws us closer to God?  In other words, is prayer about asking favours, or is it about building a relationship of trust?

Serving lunch to three young grandchildren can be, as many of you know, a chaotic experience.   There is the boisterous behaviour, silly jokes, and trying to manage food tastes that are deeply suspicious of anything new.    Amidst the chaos, our grandkids have learned to do something that they never do at home before a meal, which is to say grace.   These children, eight, seven and four, have observed us doing something that they can see is important to us, and have even come to prompt us if we are slow to start:  “Grandma, we haven’t said grace yet”.

As graces go, our are pretty simple.  We thank God for the food, for our time together, for mom and dad, their cousins and other grandparents, and for our dogs who watch expectantly for whatever falls from little plates.    Joy and I are just grateful that the habit has stuck, and we pray that it sticks for as long a time as God gives us with them.  We hope that table grace teaches them something about gratitude and an awareness that they are blessed with what they have.  Hopefully this awareness will translate into spirits of gentleness and generosity as they become adults.  Perhaps even the habit will lead them one day to curiosity about Christian faith.

“Lord, teach us to pray” says one of the disciples.    The disciple seems to feel that they can ask this because it is something Jesus knows how to do and that he can teach.   After all, they have just seen him praying and it is not the first time they’ve seen him.   In fact, Luke describes Jesus praying on five separate occasions prior to today’s gospel reading (Luke 3:21; 5:16; 6:12; 9:18; 9:28).   So it’s natural that the disciples ask Jesus because he shows them by example how prayer is part of life,

The disciples also mention that prayer is something that John the Baptist has taught his disciples.  The word disciple means student, and what the disciples as students want to learn from their teachers - John and Jesus - is how to be closer to God.   So this request shows us a desire for relationship - the disciples see how Jesus prays so that he can remain close to his Father, and they want the same.    In teaching them to pray, Jesus encourages them to think of relationship with God when he says to pray “Our Father in heaven”.

The word “Father” can strike some as paternalistic and even patriarchal, but I think it’s worth noting that, as biblical scholar Jennifer Wyant notes, Jesus chooses this word over “God” or the Hebrew “YHWH”.  Instead of praying to a remote, powerful sky god, Jesus allows his friends to see themselves as beloved children of God.  This sense of the closeness of God as parent is reinforced in the teaching that follows.

Jesus describes God as a father that will give his children the things they need rather than harmful things (a fish or an egg versus a snake or scorpion) because it is in a parent’s nature to care for their children.   If even bad people can be good parents, Jesus asks, “how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (Lk 11.13).

Jesus’ mention of “good gifts”brings us to the question I posed at the beginning, about whether prayer is about asking for favours or building relationship with God?   There are times where the disciples ask for favours that aren’t granted, such as when James and John ask for positions of power in heaven, on Jesus’ right and left hand.   Jesus says basically no, I won’t give you that because it’s not how servanthood and the kingdom of heaven work.  But how do we, with our own heartfelt requests and genuine needs, pray knowing that a loved one might not be healed or our financial distress might not be eased?  One of the basic challenges of our faith is that our prayers are not always answered to our satisfaction.

Perhaps here the idea of persistence is helpful.  Jesus describes a man at night hammering on a door for help until the person within finally gives in and agrees to help?  We might take this as a lesson that our prayers have to be annoying, which would would make for some terrible liturgy, but a better lesson would be that our prayers express our faith in a God who loves us infinitely more than the man behind the door or the grudging parent.   

Relationships work in part because of frequency.  We are close to people because we hang out, we listen to and encourage one another, we send cards or emails or silly jokes over the internet.   Relationships slip away when one person stops trying.   Likewise, when our prayers dwindle and fall silent, than God seems to grow more remote and indifferent.   

In teaching us to pray, Jesus teaches us relationship.  The word “daily” as in “daily bread” is important because it emphasizes trust and frequency, that every day we will receive, maybe not what we want, but what we need.   It teaches us to be in relationship with others, to give and to be forgiven, which are essential foundations of community.   And it teaches us to pray that with honesty that we might be spared those trials or temptations that might lead us from God, though Jesus teaches us elsewhere, in the story of the prodigal, that God as loving parent will welcome us home if we stray.

Could it be that relationship with God is like grandchildren at a their grandparents’ table, knowing that this is a place where they are safe, welcome and loved?  And could prayer be something as simple as saying, each day, that we, like children or grandchildren, will receive what we need from our God, like children or grandchildren, and trusting that they will receive what they need?

Meyers and Briggs and Martha and Mary: A Homily for the Sixth Sunday After Pentecost

A homily for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost.  Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, 21 July, 2025.

Lections for Proper 16C: Am 8:1-12; Ps 52; Col 1:15-28; Lk 10:38-42

“She had a sister named Mary, who sat art the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying”.  (Lk 10:38).

Some of you have probably taken one of those personality tests such as Meyers Briggs or the Enneagram.  Seminaries and clergy recruiting boards are very fond of them.   If you haven’t, they way they work is that you are presented with many descriptors and you choose the ones that apply to you. One such choice may be “I am the life of the party” vs “I like to keep to myself”.

The results tend to sort people according to how they think and process information, whether they make choices according to the head or the heart, and of course, the one that everyone seems to understand, whether people are introverts or extroverts, introverts being those who need time by themselves whereas extroverts get their energy from crowds of people.

Here’s a test of whether you’re an introvert.   There’s a book club where you all go to a cafe, you all sit by yourselves at different tables, you read the book of your choice silently in peace and quiet, and then you go home.   If that sounds good to you, then you’re probably an introvert.

Just as there are personality types defined by psychological tests, there are also just common characters, stereotypes if you will,  that we all recognize, and this is especially true in churches.    Every church I’ve been in has recognizable personalities that I know from previous churches.  For example, there’s the person who runs the kitchen with the iron fist, there’s the person at vestry meetings who asks finicky questions about a forty seven cent line item in the parish budget, and the fellow who you’ll never see in church on Sunday but who would be there in the dead of winter to fix the furnace.

Today’s gospel reading gives us two characters, Mary and Martha, whose names have become synonymous with church stereotypes.   Some background first.  Mary and Martha are familiar names to us, some months ago we heard the story of how Jesus visited a house in Bethany and raised Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha, from the dead, and then returns for a party where Mary anoints Jesus with costly perfume.    We heard these stories towards the end of Lent this year.   In today’s gospel reading we don’t hear anything about Lazarus so we don’t know if this is the same Mary and Martha, but who’s to say they aren’t the same.

In today’s story I think we can assume that Jesus has dropped by with his disciples, so at least a dozen people, and of course they need to be welcomed properly and fed, so Martha is in charge of the hospitality, whereas Mary has adopted a disciple’s posture and “sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying”.   Preparing lunch for so many unexpected guests is a big chore, and Martha is frazzled and grumpy that Mary isn’t helping.   Jesus’ answer, that Mary “has chosen the better part”, has provoked centuries of theological writing on what Jesus means by “the better part” and will come to that in a moment.

But to return to my idea of character stereotypes, I know lots of Anglicans who use the names Martha and Mary as shorthand for different church types and roles.  If you’re a Martha, then you can be found in the kitchen or in the altar guild, and you like to work with your hands.  If you’re a Mary, you go to every bible study and belong in the prayer group and go on retreats.  It’s often said in Christian literature that Martha is the active Christian at work in the world and Mary is the contemplative Christian who prays for the world.   Those stereotypes are of course at least half nonsense because we all know people who are happy in both roles, but the stereotypes endure and I know church women who call themselves Marys or Marthas.   Interesting that these are feminine stereotypes.  What about male church stereotypes?   That would be a subject for another sermon.

But what does Jesus mean about Mary taking the better part?  Does that mean that he is elevating one type of discipleship about others?  Is listening to Jesus better than serving others?   If so, then that would be odd seeing as in Luke’s gospel Jesus has just finished telling the story of the Good Samaritan, which is all about serving others.  Hospitality is a huge deal in Luke’s gospel.  A few weeks ago we heard Jesus send out his disciples to seek the hospitality of strangers, who would be blessed for welcoming them (Lk 10.9).  So I don’t think the problem is that Martha is engaged in a lesser role.

More likely, Martha is being gently chastised by Jesus for being aggravated and judgey about her sister.    There are several gospel stories like the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, where one person compares themselves favourably to another.   I think Jesus is saying, let her be, she’s doing good and you were doing good until you let yourself be vexed.

One of the recurring messages of the gospels is that we should listen to Jesus.    In the story of the transfiguration, the disciples here the voice from heaven saying “This is my son, listen to him” (Lk 9.35).  Likewise, Jesus says that his true brothers and sisters are those who “hear the word of God, and do it” (Lk 8.21).   The right place for Mary is to sit and hear the words of Jesus, literally to be in the presence of the Word made Flesh, and this is the correct posture of the church.

The role of the church includes feeding the hungry, speaking for the helpless, striving for justice, being salt and light for the world, and welcoming all to God’s table.  How do we know that the church should do these things?  We know because Jesus tells us to, full stop, period, end of story.   The church obeys Jesus because, as Paul tells us in our second reading from Colossians, he is “the head of the body, the church”, and it is the work of the church to hear the word of Jesus and then to make that word known to the poor through our deeds.   Marthas and Marys are equally needed for this work, we must be hearers of the word AND doers of the word.

If the church does not constantly listen to Jesus and interpret the gospel’s instructions for us in the world we live in, then the church serves no purposes but it’s own.   The prophet Amos, speaking to the complacent and corrupt rules of Israel, warned them their unjust practices would alienate them from the word of God, that the word of God would go silent, would vanish like food vanishes in a famine.

Today, in a world full of lies and boasting, and obscene concentrations of wealth and brutal politics, we can’t let the word of God go silent.   We need to listen to Jesus.  We need to hear stories like the Good Samaritan and enact them in our own ways and local contexts.   We need to show care and hospitality like Martha, and be prayerful and attentive like Mary.   All of us have a role to play - doers of the word, hearers of the word, introverts and extroverts.  We can lose the church stereotypes - they aren't really helpful, while revelling in the fact that God takes all types, and puts our gifts and talents to use in the service of God's kingdom.

Jesus doesn’t need stereotypes but he welcomes all types: Marthas and Marys, introverts and extroverts, and you Nd me!

 

Silly But Fruitful: A Homily for the Fifth Sunday After Pentecost

Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, and Good Shepherd, Stayner, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, on Sunday, July 13, 2025, the Fifth Sunday After Pentecost (Proper 15C).  Readings for this Sunday: Amos 7:7-17, Psalm 82, Colossians 1:1-14, Luke 10:25-35

 9 For this reason, since the day we heard it, we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s[ will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, 10 so that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God (Colossions 5:9-10)

I had a wonderful time this past week with our friends at Prince of Peace, Wasaga Beach, who put on a vacation bible camp which retold the CS Lewis book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe over five days.   

The children got to reenact scenes from the book, and got to meet characters such as Mr and Mrs Beaver, the evil White Witch, and of course the lion Aslan.   Besides crafts and games, the children got to learn some of the key themes from the book:  truthfulness, loyalty, hope and forgiveness, and the promise that love righteousness always triumphs over evil and cruelty.  It was a very effective piece of children’s ministry, involving the talents and energies of many volunteers, particularly Val Beasley from Prince of Peace who wrote the script, designed the crafts, and made wonderful masks such as the one I wore as Aslan.

I thought the week was also a wonderful example of how our regional ministry can come together to produce results that one church alone can’t manage.   While the summer vacation bible camp is a Prince of Peace tradition, it involved children from Good Shepherd in Stayner and every day began and ended with a singsong led by the wonderful Gren Bray, who also made a cameo appearance as Father Christmas.  

One of the songs that Gren taught us over the week is relevant to our second reading, from Colossians.  The song is about the Pauline idea of fruits of the spirit, which Paul mentions in passing in our first reading, and elsewhere lists (Gal 5.22-23), a list which inspires this silly song, and because it left me with a terrible case of earworm, I think it’s only fair that you suffer with me.  So here is the song, complete with a prop.

The fruit of the Spirit's not a BANANA

The fruit of the Spirit's not a BANANA

If you wanna be a BANANA

You might as well hear it

You can't be a fruit of the Spirit

[Chorus]

'Cause the fruit is

Love, joy, peace, patience

Kindness, goodness, faithfulness

Gentleness and self-control

Love, joy, peace, patience

Kindness, goodness, faithfulness

Gentleness and self-control, oh

If you can’t get that tune out of the head for the rest of the day, then my work here is done.

Well, my work’s not really done, because this was a fun if long lead-in to some very brief comments (brief because it’s hot) on some of our readings today, starting with Colossians.

Our first reading is from the opening of Paul’s letter to the Christian church in Colossae, a Roman colony in the west of what is now Turkey.    There is some entertaining and helpful background on the themes of Colossians here:  https://bibleproject.com/guides/book-of-colossians/, though I only have time to focus on our reading, which is one big long introduction to a letter.

In this greeting, Paul praises the members of this church for their faithfulness and for accepting the salvation that comes from Jesus Christ, who has “rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption,[h] the forgiveness of sins( Col 1:13-14).   

Now we might think that a Christian community that lives in a pagan city where their neighbours worship the Roman gods might be self-satisfied, insular, and judgmental.    After all, they now live in the kingdom of Jesus, while their neighbours still languish in sin and darkness.     Indeed, there is a widespread perception in the world today that Christians are like this, and one of the temptations of Christian belief is that we fall into an us vs them mindset of self-righteousness that cuts us off from those we judge to be sinners and outsiders.  This is of course Pride Weekend in Collingwood, and I’m sure you can all think of ways that debates about sexual orientation have led many to this sort of mindset.

But, as our silly song taught us, the fruits of the spirit are about the way of life that Jesus calls us to.   A Christian community that congratulated itself on being saved and tight with God, while condemning those outside it as godless sinners, would I think be singularly lacking in the fruits of the spirit.   Are there limits to love?  Can we gentle to just those we like?  How much goodness is required of us?

Today’s gospel reading from Luke 10 tells us without any doubt that the fruits of the spirit, if they are real and truly from God, are for all to receive.    The Parable of the Good Samaritan is so well known and so often preached on that it may be hard to hear with fresh ears.   I think all I need to say about it today is that it is prompted by a question, “who is my neighbour”, and instead answers another question, “how should I treat my neighbour”?

The incredible generosity of the Samaritan, a member of a group despised by most Jews, is a beautiful illustration of the fruits of the spirit in action.  The kindness, gentleness and love given by the Samaritan man to this stranger are in stark contrast to the indifference of the first two men, the priest and the levite, who would doubtless congratulate themselves for being tight with God but whose actions show no godliness, only rotten fruit.

Today we are reminded that the fruits of the spirit are gifts from God but also signs of a life given over to following Jesus.   The spiritually fruitful life does not limit itself to certain neighbours, it bears fruit for all in need.    These are good lessons for a children’s song, and good lessons for adults as well.  It is also a good lesson to hear during our town’s Pride Weekend.  The parade floats Joy and I saw yesterday celebrated things like love and inclusion, and if those messages lead people to be spiritually fruitful, then who are we to argue with them?

The General Humbled and Cured: A Homily for the Fourth Sunday After Pentecost

A homily for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost,  Proper 14C.   Readings for this Sunday:  Preached at Prince of Peace, Wasaga Beach, and St Luke’s, Creemore.

Readings for this Sunday: 2 Kings 5:1-14; Psalm 30; Galatians 6:(1-6),7-16; Luke 10:1-11,16-20

“Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man, and in high favour with his master” (2 Ki 5.`)

Today I’d like us to spend some time thinking about our first lesson from the Hebrew Scriptures, which I think is one of the best and finest stories in scripture.    The two Books of Kings are full of stories about the kings of Israel and Judah, their enemies, and their relationships with God and with God’s prophets.   Some of these kings are wise and faithful, but most, not so much.  Usually in these stories, it’s the prophets that are the voices we should pay attention to, and not the kings.   

In today’s except from Second Kings, we are introduced to quite a range of characters: a general, several kings, a slave girl, and a prophet.  Which one of these characters do you think is the most important, the one we should pay attention to?

 

If you said the general, that would be understandable, because we can all have images of generals.  Perhaps you imagine someone with a stern expression and an impressive collection of medals, someone who looks like they get things done.   If you’re of a certain vintage, you might think of George C Scott in the movie Patton, standing in front of that giant American flag, mean and convinced of his own reputation.

(Of course, as Canadians, we might think of Jennie Carnigan, our top soldier, throwing out the first pitch at the Blue Jays game on Canada Day, friendly and approachable, but that’s another image altogether!)

I suspect Naaman from our first reading is more in tune with the traditional idea of an army general as a swaggering, authoritative sort  of figure, more like Patton than Carnigan.  Naaman is from Aram, which is the biblical name for Syria, a neighbour and ancient rival of Israel and Judea.   We’re told that “the Lord has given victory to Naaman”, which may seem odd seeing as he’s not an Israelite. But in the Old Testament often God gives the upper hand to the enemy when Israel needs to be punished.   And that mention of “the Lord” at the beginning is a hint as to who this story is really about.

 So Naaman is a mighty general, he travels with “horses and chariots”, which seems a very impressive sort of thing to do.  But there’s one problem - he has leprosy, which makes him human.   He needs to be cured, and that’s when we meet the second character in the story.

This character doesn’t have a name, she’s a slave girl, an Israeiite, and she’s far from home and is the maid of Naaman’s wife.  But she remembers her home, and she remembers that there is a holy man, a prophet, who could heal her master.  Often in the Old Testmanent it’s a humble character, often a women, like this who sets things in motion - think of the Hebrew woman who puts Moses in a basket in the Nile to save him.

As is often the case, a woman’s ideas aren’t really listened to.  Naaman goes to the king of Aram, tells him there’s a guy in Israel who could heal him, so the king gives him a bunch of presents for the King of Israel and a letter saying “Hey, King of Israel, please heal my guy Naaman.”  Now the slave girl didn’t say anything about the King of Israel, she said it was a prophet who could heal Naaman, but I guess the King of Aram, being a king, just assumed that another king could help.   Important people seem to assume that other important people make things happen.

 As I said, there’s a lot of humour in this story, and part of it comes from the king of Israel’s reaction, which is basically a loud scream that echoes through his palace.  The poor king is at least self aware enough to know that he’s not a doctor or a prophet, and has no power to heal anyone, so he assumes that this is some sort of trap, and Aram will invade because he hasn’t been able to help Naaman.    So all he does is rip his clothes and complain.  At this point, we might well ask, how come a young Israelite slave girl in Aram knows that there is a prophet in Israel but the King of Israel doesn’t know this?  Not a good look for the King of Israel.

Fortunately word gets out that the King of Israel is complaining and pouting, because word gets to Elisha, and here we have to stop and remind ourselves of who Elisha is.   It’s confusing, because there are two prophets in Kings, Elijah, who comes first, and then Elisha, who Elijah takes on as his pupil.   Think of Elisha as a Jedi padwan in Star Wars if that helps.   After Elijah is taken up into heaven, Elisha takes over.

Elisha is a faithful prophet, he can perform miracles but he’s kinda cranky.  There’s a story in Kings about how a group of kids follow him one day and make fun of him because he’s bald, so Elisha curses them and at that point two bears come out of woods and maul the children  (2 Kings 223-24).  Not surprisingly, he sends a slightly cranky message back to the King of Israel, basically “Why are you making such a fuss, I’m the prophet, send this guy Naaman to me”.

Did I mention that Elisha was cranky?  Another seen that makes me laugh is when Naaman and all his horses and chariots are parked outside Elisha’s house.   I’m not sure what Naaman was expecting, he was probably used to red carpets and people making a fuss over him, but all he gets is a message from the house saying “go wash in the river Jordan seven times”.   

Elisha isn’t the only one who’s cranky.  The mighty (but leprous) Naaman is highly offended, not only because this prophet wouldn’t come out and give him some sort of personal prophet treatment,  but because (and this is a weird bit of nationalistic pride), if all he had to do was dip in a river, well, he could have stayed home in Aram where they have better rivers!  Harrumph!  Fortunately, Naaman gets good “what have you got to lose” advice, does the seven dips in the Jordan, and is cured.

So other than a few chuckles (I hope you agree with me that there is humour in this story), what can we take away from it?    I would say the first and major lesson would be that God is in charge.  When we think of powerful generals in the Hebrew Scriptures, we might think of the Egyptian army, also with horses and chariots, that is swept away in the Red Sea.  Scripture is always suspicious of military power, which is why Jesus enters Jerusalem on a donkey instead of in a general’s chariot.   In our age of dictators that increasingly seems to value military might, this seems like an important lesson.

Also, I think the lesson says something about the generosity of God and how God’s grace and favour isn’t confined to just one people.   Naaman is a soldier who is an outsider, a non-Jew.   In the sequel to this story, he returns to thank Elisha, and says that he now realizes that the God if Israel is greater than the gods of Aram.   He thus reminds us of people like the centurion Cornelius who is baptized with his family by Peter (Acts 10) or the centurion at the foot of the cross who recognizes that Jesus is the son of God.

Finally, we see here, with the servant girl and with Elisha, who was a farmer before Elijah chose him to be a prophet, a lifting up of the humble and lowly that runs all through scripture.    Today’s story began with kings and a general, and ended up reminding us that these people can be blinded by their own power, whereas the humble see the saving power of God clearly.   May it be so with us.