Notes for a More Coherent Sermon: Feeding the Multitude

NOTES FOR A MORE COHERENT SERMON
10:00 a.m.., Sunday, March 22, 2009
St. Andrew’s Old Catholic Church
Small Meeting Room, 138 Pears Ave.
Toronto

1st Lesson: Galatians 4: 26 – 31

But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all. For it is written, “Rejoice, thou barren that bearest not; break forth and cry, thou that travailest not: for the desolate hath many more children than she which hath an husband.”

Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of promise. But as then he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now.

Nevertheless what saith the scripture? “Cast out the bondwoman and her son: for the son of the bondwoman shall not be heir with the son of the freewoman.”
So then, brethren, we are not children of the bondwoman, but of the free.

Gospel: John 6: 5 – 14

When Jesus then lifted up his eyes, and saw a great company come unto him, he saith unto Philip, “Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” And this he said to prove him: for he himself knew what he would do.

Philip answered him, “Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one of them may take a little.”

One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, saith unto him, “There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves, and two small fishes: but what are they among so many?”

And Jesus said, “Make the men sit down.”

Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, in number about five thousand. And Jesus took the loaves; and when he had given thanks, he distributed to the disciples, and the disciples to them that were set down; and likewise of the fishes as much as they would.

When they were filled, he said unto his disciples, “Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.”

Therefore they gathered them together, and filled twelve baskets with the fragments of the five barley loaves, which remained over and above unto them that had eaten.

Then those men, when they had seen the miracle that Jesus did, said, “This is of a truth that prophet that should come into the world.”

SERMON PROPER BEGINS

There is not a living person who does not hunger for something. It can
be a desire for safety, for love, for security, for inspiration, for a closer relationship with God. But none of these hungers, these desires can possibly be fulfilled if we do not have air, water and food. The essentials of life are primary and once they are secured dreams can have a chance of becoming real.
About 2,000 years ago a group of people followed someone that they saw as a religious teacher, a miracle worker, a political leader or possibly just an interesting celebrity. They obviously had not planned to spend a long time with him—they hadn’t packed a lunch, they walked by markets without purchasing food—but they did hope to gain something by following him.
Unfortunately for them it wasn’t a spiritual journey that Jesus took them on that day. It was a long walk in a hot, dry climate. They travelled
along an unpaved path into an area that had a lot of grass with little shade, no nearby lunch counters or grocery stories, no place where they could beg a meal.
As much as they may have admired Jesus, they were tired and hungry and perhaps a bit worried and scared. When they woke up that morning they hadn’t planned to be sitting on a hillside in the late afternoon sun, a part of a crowd of people who also hadn’t thought of bringing something to eat. And it wasn’t just the crowd of followers that we caught unprepared. Jesus and his followers didn’t seem to have a great deal at hand to feed themselves, let alone those that followed them. When Jesus turned to Philip, one of his disciples, testing him to solve the problem, there wasn’t a ready answer to meet the needs of everyone around. A second disciple, Andrew found one person with foresight—a young boy with some bread and fish. Five barley loaves and 2 small fishes doesn’t seem enough to Jesus and his immediate followers, let alone everyone gathered on the hillside. But it was the basis of a meal; it was a gift from the one person who was prepared when no one else was.
Jesus took this gift, blessed it and distributed the bread and fish to all who were there. There was enough that everyone was fed and there were substantial leftovers. Jesus didn’t offer prayer as a way of filling the moment and distracting from hunger. Jesus didn’t denounce physical weakness and hunger. Jesus took what was given and met the needs of his disciples and those that followed him. He didn’t ask for I.D.; he didn’t separate the Jews from the Samaritans or the rich from the poor. He shared a miracle with all who were there—he made sure that none were hungry before they were sent on their way. Food was offered to Jesus and he shared it with everyone.
Jesus was a very practical messiah. He didn’t judge people. He didn’t pull down a government and put himself in its place. He didn’t put off until after the revolution addressing the needs of those around him for love and hope, for food and community. And he expects us to do the same.
We are in a society where food banks and community meal programmes are essential to ensure that people have their daily bread.
During Lent we are especially reminded of the need to take what we have and share it with others. We are asked to take food and give it to others, to take our money and donate it so that charities can pool the money and buy fresh foods and staples.
On a global scale, efforts from famine relief to dealing with plant diseases that are destroying food crops to the need to preserve and enhance farm land are ongoing demands on the stewardship resources of all who share in the fruits of creation.
Jesus instituted the eucharist with real food, not symbols, blessing common elements of people’s meals in the society he lived in and then sharing it with them. Whether feeding us with bread and fish or sustaining us with bread and wine that has become the actual presence of Christ among us, Jesus did not and does not take food lightly. If people are to follow Jesus, if they are to be able to choose to take part in the Lenten journey, then they need to be sustained in this effort. Everyone needs food in order to live out their lives; those sharing in the Lenten journey need food to sustain us in the walk and in the building up of the shalom kingdom, the gates of which lay ahead at Golgotha. Those not on our journey need food to continue to be a living part of the family of creation. When we share in the Eucharist, when we donate to a food bank, when we pressure the government to ensure that those on social assistance don’t loose their food allowance, when we help preserve farmland from urban sprawl, when we support heritage seed preservation, when we work to end the violence that prevents food from reaching those that need it in places of conflict, we are doing our part to share our few loaves of bread and small fish. We ensure that the miracle of the loaves and fishes continues to feed those that are in the presence of the divine, all those that share in God’s creation, when we seek to put food on the tables of all.

Notes for a More Coherent Sermon—A Universal Call for Justice

NOTES FOR A MORE COHERENT SERMON
10:00 AM., Sunday, January 25, 2009
St. Andrew’s Old Catholic Church
Small Meeting Room, 138 Pears Ave. (Toronto)

1st Lesson: Romans 12: 16 – 21

Be of the same mind one toward another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate. Be not wise in your own conceits. Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore if thine enemy hungers, feed him; if he thirsts, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.

Gospel: Matthew 8: 1 – 13

When he was come down from the mountain, great multitudes followed him. And, behold, there came a leper and worshipped him, saying, “Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.”

And Jesus put forth his hand, and touched him, saying,” I will; be thou clean.” And immediately his leprosy was cleansed.

And Jesus saith unto him, “See thou tell no man; but go thy way, shew thyself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them.”
And when Jesus was entered into Capernaum, there came unto him a centurion, beseeching him, and saying, “Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, grievously tormented. “

And Jesus saith unto him, “I will come and heal him.”

The centurion answered and said, “Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: but speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed. For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it. “

When Jesus heard it, he marvelled, and said to them that followed, “Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven. But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

And Jesus said unto the centurion, “Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.”

And his servant was healed in the selfsame hour.

SERMON PROPER BEGINS

Scripture assumes that those that read it have many motivations. Those concerned with their ultimate judgement and place in God’s kingdom are likely to find that the call to practical compassion in Matthew 25:31 – 46 speaks loudest, and particularly the promise made to those who do care for one another:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”

Alternatively, one may be motivated to the same acts of practical compassion, of economic justice based on a more pragmatic, materialistic assumption that living out the faith is part of building the kingdom of god in the current moment. One would then likely find Acts 2: 42 -47 a passage that is more readily heeded:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favour of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.”

Those who see justice, not as proper individual actions or communal responsibility but as an expression of one’s right relationship with the divine, a form of proper worship, will find the message strongest in Isaiah 58:6 – 11:

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?

Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter-when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. “If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.

The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”

The call for justice, for practical compassion, to care for one another, is woven throughout our scriptures. It seems to be so important than we are given the message in different ways at different times to different groups of people.
It is a universal message but sometimes different ways must be used to get this essential teaching across to everyone.

So it is not surprising to hear in today’s epistle reading Paul telling the
community of believers in Rome to care for the needs of everyone—even their enemies. God’s love is universal so the expression of love by those called to the Christian community also is to be universal. Everyone is to be treated honesty and with respect. All those who are hungry deserve to be fed; all those who mourn to be comforted. God is to be trusted with the long view—our role is to be present for one another in the current moment. Indeed, we are the agents of God. There is evil in the world, but also good. We are told to not add to the evil—not to let people go hungry, to be a peaceful presence in times of conflict. Paul did encourage people to behave in a loving matter towards all by an appeal to God’s will. But he also added a new twist, an appeal to a different possible motivation to do right—that it might cause distress to your enemies if you treat them with respect, an appeal to a rather dark side of human nature. This is combined with the statement that evil can only truly be overcome by good. If one behaves in the same way as one’s oppressors injustice is not overcome, there is only a substitution of who is the oppressor. But if one does what is right, it is a challenge by example to everyone that love is possible, that dignity is possible, that hope is possible—not the pie in the sky version but the heaven on earth version of living in harmony with one another and all of creation. It is a way of retaining power in times when one feels most powerless; sharing when one feels most like hoarding or not replying with angry words when taunted is something that is not necessarily easy, but we are called to to these things.

And whether we are motivated by fear of judgement, by communal interests, by seeking a right form of worship or by wanting to annoy our opponents we are called to same mission—to make the world a better place for all.

The gospel today has Jesus doing just this—healing a member of his own community and a household member of a Roman official. One was healed, and told to follow the traditions of the Jewish community; the second was healed according to the faith of the official. But both were healed—a fellow community member and one of the occupying forces. In very practical ways Jesus showed all those around him that need trumps ideology, class, religious, nationality or other social barriers.

In difficult times we need to remember this—we can easily be lead to make distinctions between deserving and undeserving poor, between those who we claim are alien and those we claim as our neighbours. Scripture points us towards a universal compassion; Christ’s example shows us that
a universal approach is the proper path to follow.

This may lead us to uncomfortable choices, but it will lead us towards being a part of bringing to birth a better world.

Notes for a More Coherent Sermon—Remembering the Light in times of Darkness

NOTES FOR A MORE COHERENT SERMON
10:00 AM., Sunday, January 4, 2009
St. Andrew’s Old Catholic Church
Small Meeting Room, 138 Pears Ave. (Toronto)

1st Lesson: Isaiah 9: 2 – 7

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.
Thou hast multiplied the nation, and not increased the joy: they joy before thee according to the joy in harvest, and as men rejoice when they divide the spoil.
For thou hast broken the yoke of his burden, and the staff of his shoulder, the rod of his oppressor, as in the day of Midian.
For every battle of the warrior is with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood; but this shall be with burning and fuel of fire.
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will perform this.

Gospel: Luke 2: 15 – 21

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.

But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

SERMON PROPER BEGINS

I don’t think that the world is seeing much light these days. The media is full of darkness—missiles aimed at Sderot and massive air raids on Gaza; civil wars in many countries in Africa; drought and floods; even a new anti-biotic resistant strain of leprosy resulting—darkness is all around us, most of which is the result of the conscious decisions of humanity.
This is not a unique time in human history—there have been more bleak moments in history. But for those in the midst of human initiated and sustained tragedy, knowing that the past has been hard doesn’t really provide motivation to get through the evils of the moment.
At the time when the words of Isaiah were put down, the people of Israel were facing deep despair. A long period of foreign occupation, exile, civil strife and corrupt and unjust government beat down upon the people of Israel. There was hunger and sickness in parts of the land.
What they had to keep them going was a promise, the hope that the ultimate arc of the covenant was not a physical object but the ongoing movement towards a kingdom in which peace and justice permeated every aspect of society. What existed in the moment was hard to bear, but what could come into existence and was already permeating through the people was the knowledge that this would pass. Evil would not last forever. It would not be sustained.
By righteous living in their private relations the covenant with God would be made real. There would be peace in the land, there would be milk and honey for everyone, justice would roll down like water. Those that ruled were called to justice, but everyone else was also called. It wasn’t just the rulers that had to not cheat their subjects. Individuals had to not cheat their neighbours. It wasn’t just the rulers that had to not go to war. Individuals had to not harm one another. The covenant was for everyone and the more it was lived out by individuals, the more the divine will would be established within creation.
We know that there is darkness around us in current times because we know what is in the light—peace and reconciliation; compassion and comfort; sharing of resources with those in need. If we did not have the light in front of us, darkness would overwhelm us.
Accepting the temptation of being overwhelmed by the potential of darkness—war and hatred and oppression and hunger and fear—is all too easy. It is only human; it is nothing new.
And yet, from Amos to Archbishop Romero, it has proven to be just as human to speak truth to power, to care for others, to refuse to use violence against others, to seek in both private and public for a just social order.
Just as we can nurture an infant and show an example of loving and caring for one another to the child as it develops, we can nurture a society in which love does get passed on from one to another, sustaining and nurturing a society in which the temptations of violence and oppressive behaviour cease to be dominate themes in the world around us.
In this season of winter and time with wars raging in many parts of the earth, perhaps Pablo Neruda’s “Prayers for the Earth”, speaks loudly for hope in moments of hopelessness, the possibility for a transforming experience within everyone:

For once on the face of the earth
let’s not speak in any language
Let’s stop for one second
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines.
We would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
And the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
Victory with no survivors
Would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused with total inactivity,
Life is what it is about.
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single minded about keeping our lives moving,
And for once could do nothing,
Perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
And of threatening ourselves
with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

++++++++++++++++++++++

God demands little of us but to seek to live as if we were always in the light. We know that war is not inevitable—there are times of peace that show us that war is not inevitable; We know that oppression is not forever lasting; there are moments of celebrations throughout the secular calendar of the end of repressive regimes. We know that no matter how powerful the temptation to despair—it is only a shadow that is being offered, not the true substance of creation.
About 2,000 years ago something wonderful happened in the middle east—a fragile god reached out to us in vulnerability, trusting that we would find a way to let the divine will find a home among us. That divine infant felt love and betrayal, community and loneliness, pleasure and torture, life and death. And, having gone through all that humanity could offer, the divine presence promised to be with us always. The divine will offers us something concrete—a call to work hard to build the shalom kingdom of peace and justice in the current moment in our homes, our neighbourhoods and in the world.
Micah tells us about the end time (4:3,4):

He will judge between many peoples
and will settle disputes
for strong nations far and wide.

They will beat their swords
into ploughshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up
sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore.

Every man will sit under his own vine
and under his own fig tree,
and no one will make them afraid,
for the LORD Almighty has spoken.

In this ongoing apocalyptic time, a moment stretching back for centuries, we have a vision of God’s plan for us to share and make real. There may be darkness, but there is always light; there may currently be war but there is always peace.
As we prepare to share in our communal meal, we are also preparing to share in our communal call to love one another in all its difficult and challenging forms. When we are dismissed to love and serve the Lord, we are dismissed to live in ways that show that in the divine kingdom, in our world that we are to ensure that justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream (Amos 5:24) and peace is real for those who are near and for those that are far away (Ephesians 2:17 ).

Thoughts on the Loss of Democracy in Canada

It is surprising to me, given my libertarian socialist bent, to find myself nearly in tears upon hearing the news that the Governor General of Canada chose to ignore the wishes of the majority of the members of the House of Common and prorogued Parliament.   It surprised me more than the grey days of the Mike Harris government of Ontario, with its Omnibus Bill and other attacks on on civil society.  It even hit harder that the declaration of the War Measures Act by  Pierre Trudeau, a political leader who had a strong history of supporting civil rights and civil liberties.

It was unusual to see representatives of three political party work hard to find common ground in order to address the problems of the day.   While not moving towards a radical agenda, the coalition of the Bloc Quebecois, the Liberal Party of Canada and the New Democratic Party symbolized a new way of working together, indicating that perhaps community and mutual aid were concepts creeping back into the public agenda.  And, as Canada is a parliamentary democracy, the majority of House of Commons should naturally form the government.

Yet, using language worthy of Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe or Hugo Chavez of Venezula, the now officially minority voice in the House of Commons, has attacked the majority as traitors, socialists and dangerous to democacy.  Instead of accepting the will of the House of Commons, Harper and his supporters have chosen to undermind the democratic institutions of Canada.  Aided by the Governor General, the Conservative Party have shown contempt for the House of Commons that they have chosen to serve in.  Refusing to give up authority to the majority, they have circled their wagons and are waging a war of vicious accusations against those who have found a way to put aside partisan interest for the public good.

This is truely frightening.  If elected officials are willing to show such contempt for the political process they have chosen to be a part of, what are their views about those who have different ideas, lifestyles or visions of how social should function. If members of the House of Commons are being denounced as traitors, who will be next?  If even parliamentary traditions are not respected by M.P.s, what will be the next target?

We already know that pay equity and the right to strike are in danger, non-profit health care threatened and the idea of Canada as a haven for those opposed to war and injustice a concept pushed to the margins.The Harper agenda is not a hidden, right wing one but a public right wing one.  Such an agenda combined with a blatant anti-parliamentary, anti-democratic approach to governing makes me quite frightened for the future of Canada.

It is not a coup when the majority of a legislature agrees to work together to do their job.   It might be a coup when a small group refuses to cede power to larger, particularly when the larger group clearly represents the will of the people by having won approximately 62% of the popular vote.

Is Canada close to becoming a kinder, gentler Burma?

THOUGHTS ON REMEMBRANCE DAY

I couldn’t help thinking today of those that made the possibilities of peace and justice a little more real, closer to being achievable:

Fedelina Costa

Medger Evers

Ginger Goodwin

Franz Jägerstätter

Sophie Scholl

Tom Fox

Archbishop Romero

And thousands upon thousands who did what seemed impossible—lived their lives as people committed to peace and justice in times of violence and oppression. It is due to their keeping alive a tradition of hope in periods that may seem hopeless that has truly made it possible for anyone to live in places of relative peace and security.

They did not serve in disciplined armies. They did not take up arms against the forces arrayed against them. But they did speak out. They leafleted, fasted, fed the hungry, sheltered the refugee, walked the picket lines, refused to kill, prayed, sang, petitioned, refused to turn away from those in need. They were mocked, assaulted, arrested, imprisoned, killed.

They did not become those they opposed. They continued to love their enemies, feed the hungry, honoured the creator, write satirical folk songs, pray, celebrate with the wrong people, remember, dream.

We don’t easily recall their names or faces. We saw them on the bridge at Selma; We saw them at Tiananmen Square; We saw them putting flowers in the barrels of guns at the Pentagon and draping garlands on tanks in Prague. We read about them in May Square or Rosenstrasse.

We recall them in various church litanies and old labour songs. Occasionally made saints, most often they were part of the unmarked chain of ordinary people who just did ordinary things in times when too many others didn’t.

If I am free today it is due to the ongoing work of those who live out a call to a peacemaker in times of war; who feed their neighbours in hard times; who find their world includes those pushed to the margins.

Working for peace and justice is dangerous work. People loose their freedom. They are wounded and left shattered. People die doing it.

We need to remember them. More importantly, we need to emulate them. In times of economic crisis and in a world with interwoven wars and violence, we need to join in the work of the unremembered. It is time for peacemaking and co-op building and reweaving all the many webs of life.

WHY IS A STRONG LEADER DESIRABLE?

I’ve not understood opinion polls and comments claiming that the current Canadian prime minister, Stephen Harper, is more popular than Stéphane Dion because Harper is a strong leader. Jack Layton’s campaign stresses that he is a strong leader. For me, a person that can facilitate a meeting, bring different views together to come to a common understanding, who puts collective wisdom and experience ahead of individual ego and ambition, who listens and considers other views seriously—in short, someone who doesn’t act as a strong leader but rather is an encourager of the skills and ideals of others, who sees grassroots and community based initiatives as at least as valid as what comes from those at the top, is far more preferable than a strong leader.

Over the years I have grown fearful of strong leaders. They may be able        to get focused action for a time but in the long term organisations that are built around a strong leader aren’t sustainable in the long term, ultimately aren’t as a creative and certainly are less accountable.

I find expressions of a desire for strong leadership crossing the mainstream political spectrum. From those that claim that deregulation is great and the government needs to get off the backs of people to those that see government as a resource for positive socialchange, it doesn’t seem that ideology determines ones view on strong individually focused leadership.   Indeed, while I can understand those that want to solve a social problem to consider strong, central authority something positive I am constantly surprised by those that oppose the state apparatus doing something positive for people, distrusting big brother and wanting government off   their backs, calling for law and order to get the state on the back of those they are ideologically opposed to.

Just like I don’t understand academic plagiarism (why do people have so little confidence in their own ideas and arguments?), I don’t understand the desire for strong leaders. What occurs in our society, in our personal social development, that leads people to want to be told what to do and how to do it and to distrust their own abilities and insights? In times of uncertainty especially, when the ability to bring people together to use their individual ideas and skills to meet common goals should be of more importance than coercing people to achieve a single vision, the call for a strong leader seems to be raised even louder. This desire for a centralising of power and authority is frightening.

Perhaps the desire for a strong leader is a search for an ultimate sacrificial lamb. If something goes wrong it is the fault of the leader, not of us. Having someone to blame may be easier than sharing in the responsibility to solve a problem. It doesn’t result in a better solution, but we can individually feel left off the hook if we give the power over to a strong central authority. And, when the strong leader proves to be as human and frail as we are, a strong leader can be attacked for imperfections we forgive in ourselves. We get to be a hypocritical judge as well as avoiding a shared responsibility to work together towards solving common problems.

Perhaps I do understand what strong leaders are popular after all. I still don’t like the concept, though. Too much harm can be caused by such a centralising of power.

Thoughts on Urban Wildlife

I grew up somewhere between a small city and a farm—migrating between realities. From theatre reheasals to shoveling out stables to disappearing into the bush to have time to myself, I was not truly a part of urban life or the countryside, but found a home in both.

Growing up I wasn’t surprised to find a bear in a blueberry patch, a porcupine in the garage or deer darting across a clearing. I still maintain I once saw the tracks of a lynx near where my father was making maple syrup. One year a heron found a home in the creek outback.

Since moving a long time ago to Toronto my experience of animals has been most often limited to dogs, cats, squirrels and pigeons. But as the years passed, it seems like more animals have crept into my awareness.

Sometimes this is dramatic. Shortly after I started working at 43rd Housing Co-op I watched an eagle swoop down on a pigeon at the Long Branch Go Station, then dismember it on a light stanchion. More recently I saw a falcon swoop down on a pigeon, which managed to eventually escape.

It does seem that a major place to see animal life in the city is my front porch. On a sunny day four or five neighbourhood cats can be found stretched out, enjoying heat and a quiet space and the potential for our company. Or they come because we put food outside for our cat and they feel they can come by for a nibble.

If night comes and we’ve left food outside the porch attracts different animals. Raccoons of course—this is Toronto after all. Hengist and Horsa, were a stable pair of visitors for a couple of years—they would avoid our garbage if we put food out. Otherwise they would pillage. More recently two racoons found a way into our home. Eventually their access point was found and blocked up—-but until then finding them eating out of our cat food dish was quite distressing for ourfelines. One of the racoons seemed to have had a lot of experience with humans—it kept wanting to rub its head against my leg like a cat. Avoiding it was hard, but it would like me lead it outside (the other had to be led out with food.

Skunks have been a common sensory experience (something outside our bedroom seems to frighten them). But on a couple of occasions I’ve seem them on our front porch—once two of them and two of our cats shared the front porch. There seemed to be an effort to accept this invasion of their space with wounded dignity on the part of our cats. The skunks were a bit tense, but calmed down upon finding a food dish.

What has surprised me in the last year was the appearance of opossums. I was sure I was hearing them in the backyard, but this wasn’t easily accepted by others. Strange animal sounds aren’t unknown. Late one night scrabbling on the porch brought me to the door. It was an opossum, finding sustenance in the cat food dish by the door.

 

THOUGHTS IN ELECTION TIME

Election news is all too abundant these days. From Austria to New Zealand opinion polls, debates, election results and even occasional electoral platforms spill across print and electronic media.

Over the decades my involvement with elections has ranged from sitting on election planning committees for candidates to handing out ‘Don’t Vote. It only encourages them.” leaflets at polling stations. My views on elections change from idealist hope that the right candidate from the right movement can help change the world to seeing elections as a distraction from the hard work of building a lasting movement for social transformation—a change that can occur at any time.

In my own downtown Toronto riding it seems like the election campaign exists in some other realm. I’ve not yet seen a candidate. I’ve only seen a few candidate signs (all for Bob Rae). There is an all-candidate’s meeting coming up that I can’t attend as I’ll be busy that afternoon. There is little to emotionally connect me to the electoral process and little to connect me intellectually to the policies and priorities of any of the candidates.

One candidate’s material that I have received had an omission that bothers me more that I would have thought. The New Democratic Party was formed by a formal alliance of the Canadian Labour Congress and the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation. Over the years this organic link has been eroded. So I shouldn’t have been surprised that the NDP candidate for Toronto Centre has distributed election material that does not have a union bug on. While perhaps minor in the overall scheme of things, it is still very aggravating that a candidate for a party that claims a progressive heritage to not show support for the ideal of unionism, of workers have a real voice in the quality of their working life. If they won’t support unionised workplaces, what else from their heritage will be thrown over in their rush for 3rd or 4th place status? In an election time that I feel detached from, symbolic statements loom large in my decision making.

I did watch the English language Federal Leaders debate. I was pleasantly surprised by Elizabeth May, the leader of the Green Party. She is economically quite conservative, but did make clear statements in support of affordable housing, universal public funded health care and arts funding that I could find it in my heart to support. However, unless I misunderstood her, she did seem to be the leader most strongly committed to an ongoing Canadian presence in Afghanistan after the proposed 2012 Canadian military withdrawal date.

I am not thrilled at not being excited by the Canadian election. I don’t feel either like boycotting it or participating in it. I don’t feel like pulling votes for a candidate or critiquing a process that alienates individuals from active participation in the political life of their communities. I don’t think that this is a matter of aging, either. Rather, it seems that the Canadian federal election has no real existence. A vote wouldn’t be a statement of my support for a vision of a more peaceful, just and compassionate society; these dreams aren’t being voiced in the various campaigns. Abstaining won’t be noticed with about 1/3 of potential voters avoiding the ballot box.

It is possible that in other parts of Canada elections are topics for dinner table or workplace discussions. People may be angered enough at the closing of another factory to turn their backs completely on a process that supports capital mobility more than communal viability. Others may be doing the hard work of door to door canvassing because in their riding the race is so tight that the winner will be determined by who gets their voters out on election day.

I suspect that, ultimately, I’ll vote. Personal connection of some sort will guide my decision—at this time is most likely for Liz White (Animal Alliance—we volunteered together on a Jack Layton campaign years ago). Johan Boyden (Communist Party—his official agent, Dan Goldstick, was one of my favourite U of T professors) is a somewhat less likely choice, but still one I could make. It is easier to vote than to not vote—not a ringing endorsement of the liberal democratic process.

THOUGHTS ON THE 2008 CUCC AGM

I am immersed in the co-operative world. I live in a housing co-op. I work for two co-ops. I am a member of a worker co-op. I am insured with Co-operators and do my banking with Alterna. I support alternative energy production through membership in The Toronto Renewable Energy Co-operative and Countryside Energy Co-operative. I sit on the boards of an investment co-operative, four co-op land trusts and a co-op staff association. I expect the colours of the co-op rainbow are infused into every aspect of my being. It takes a lot for the co-op world to surprise me, but I was surprised at the Credit Union Central of Canada’s Annual General Meeting where I could be found as the week of May 5th began. I was surprised to hear talk of social justice in the heart of a financial world and was equally surprised at the real and ongoing struggle to ensure that the credit union movement tried to bring to life the co-op principles. Who would think that bankers would care about such things? And these people did. People who don’t blanch at the idea of a billion dollars in shared assets were expressing concern about co-op development in the developing world; people who deal comfortably with the moneyed of the world truly wondered about how to empower those without a voice of their own.

Younger credit union leaders (well, those under 40) were the prime motivators of discussions on the co-op principles and the future of the Canadian credit union movement. Part of this was pragmatic—if the credit union movement is to have a real viable future it has to be distinguished in the financial world somehow. But most of this focus was truly idealistic. There are a number of different ways to be a presence in the commercial life of a community. Being a presence that truly wants to be responsive to member-owners; wanting to promote ways of broadening the base of member-owners; wanting to find ways of convincing people that pooling their resources within an organisation under their communal control is something wonderful and socially transforming—-even if the credit union is (comparatively) large and seemingly remote from the daily lives of the members—-the credit union movement truly tries to be a living part of a ever transforming community.

Being very new to the credit union leadership world, I was quiet. Unlike when I’ve attended Ontario Worker Co-op Federation or Co-op Housing Federation of Canada meeting, I sat quietly in the midst of discussions and didn’t ask questions in response to reports. I would have liked to have asked questions about why agencies within Credit Union Central were sold to non-co-operatives. Being told that resources just couldn’t be found within the co-op sector wasn’t a completely satisfactory answer. However, as a stranger within the world I let the moment pass.

I was also intimidated by the massive size of the credit union movement. In 1900 the credit union movement in Canada had 132 members in one credit union. Now in Canada there are 5.1 million credit union members with total credit union assets of just under $105 billion. It took me years to not be intimidated by balance sheets and income statements of a 75 unit housing co-op. What the credit union world deals with makes me realise that I’ve merely wadded in the shallows of what can be brought together by people consciously bringing together their personal and financial resources to achieve a common goal.

To me, the co-operative world is one where my faith and ideals come together. It is a tapestry of different efforts to bring individuals together to openly and willingly share what they have with others in order to achieve a common goal. Power is shared as are resources. Parents can have places for their children to be cared for; workers can have real control over their working lives; new energy sources can be built; and people can share their financial resources to do what banks do, but for the community and not primarily for the needs of the corporation.

The Credit Union Central of Canada is not a grassroots organisation (which means since I have attended one of its AGMs I’m not as grassroots as I see me as). Yet it seriously tries to remain true to its roots in a small gathering in Levis, Quebec in 1900. It may describe itself as a trade association. But those that share in its leadership are co-operators. Observing them through my usual cynical mask, I found myself in the midst of people motivated by a deep desire to bring the co-op principles to life in the most difficult part of the co-op movement in which do so—when the money lies, where the temptations of traditional capitalism are so very loud.

Notes for a More Coherent Sermon—The Normalcy of Active Compassion

NOTES FOR A MORE COHERENT SERMON
St. Andrews Old Roman Catholic Church
138 Pears Ave. , Toronto
12:00 noon, April 6, 2008

1st Lesson: 1 Peter 2: 19 – 25

For this is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God endure grief, suffering wrongfully. For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently? but if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.

For even hereunto were ye called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps: Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously: Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed. For ye were as sheep going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls.

Gospel: John 10: 11 – 16

I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.

But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep. The hireling fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep.

I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine. As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the sheep. And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.

SERMON PROPER BEGINS

It is hard this week to not think of those, like Rev. Martin Luther King, whose faith lead them to take risks on behalf of those they cared for—-risks taken as a direct result of their faith. From newspaper articles to public celebrations, we are asked to remember and consider what a life of committed faith can lead to.

It is easy to see the roots of King’s ”I have a dream” speech in scripture—Christ told his followers after his resurrection that there shall be one fold, not division and segregation. Jesus’ followers certainly had different perspectives and expectations; the arguments between Peter and Paul were dramatic. And yet they could find common ground because, through Christ, they were part of a wide and inclusive tapestry of faith. In South Africa and in the U.S. faith communities were split on racial lines and yet the Martin Luther King’s and Bishop Tutu’s of the world reached across racial divisions to find common ground and understanding with others seeking a world where being faithful to Jesus meant being faithful to the entire community.

Perhaps they could take such risks for others because they did not make a clear distinction between themselves, their faith and their community. Like the good shepherd, they saw themselves as caring for those around them as an extension of themselves. They were part of a larger presence in the world. Just as they would seek food for themselves if they were hungry, they sought to nourish with hope those around them. We see this same spirit around us in those who work in the Out of the Cold programme or with food banks or with refugees or in search of peace in times and places of conflict. Because of the interconnectedness among those that care, that reaches out into the broader community, comfort and healing and hope can be offered and sustained even in difficult times.

This care wasn’t limited to one person or group—-the love of Christ embraces everyone. It wasn’t just those that knew Christ that he cared for; it wasn’t just those that agreed with Jesus that he expressed compassion for. In his life, he helped those that oppressed his people, political opponents, those on the other side of ethnic and gender divides…and he made it clear that was most essential to be a true and faithful follower was to feed the hungry, house the homeless, help the refugee, support those in hospitals and in prison. Yes, we accept that Jesus was the chosen one, the presence of God with us, but it isn’t the articles of our faith that is the most essential—-it is how we live and show our faith in relationship to one another.

This compassion is dangerous. Not wanting others to be hated, not wanting others to face injustice on their own, not wanting others to be left to depend only on their resources can result in one being targeted—ignored, harassed, jailed, beaten, exiled, murdered. Rev. Martin Luther King was not the first or last person to die as a result of faith leading to public proclamation of God’s call to all of us to treat with love and compassion everyone in a society. And around him were thousands of others who shared in his vision—those who walked with him in Selma and in Memphis; those who prepared meals for the many meetings and services; those that shared with him the tasks of organizing and praying and singing for a better world for all. We remember Martin Luther King. Some may recall those, like Reverend Ralph Abernathy, who succeeded him at the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, who were other high profile leaders of the U.S. civil rights movement. But there were many thousands more who shared their hopes, time, talent and lives to bring to life the dream of Martin Luther King. We will likely never know their names but it is their example we see in the dream of an integrated, diverse community, not only the example of Rev. King.

From the earliest days of our faith people lived, been imprisoned and died because of their desire to not participate in causing harm to anyone within creation. From refusing to serve in the military to feeding the hungry to walking on picket lines to living in integrated and egalitarian communities, living a peaceful, sharing life can be as upsetting to the world around us as overturning the tables of the money changes in the courtyard of the temple in Jerusalem must have been. Almost always, trying to live in harmony with all one’s neighbours is not noteworthy. Most people make a difference in many quiet, efficient ways that put down the foundations of the divine kingdom. A few, like Dorothy Day and Caesar Chavez, seem to attract attention through public witness, take risks by insisting that living a loving life isn’t optional. Very few become the real targets of hatred—the Archbishop Romero’s and Martin Luther King’s of the world.

When Jesus promised to be with all of his flock, to gather them in to one loving community, he didn’t promise he’d do it on his own. He had called disciples and apostles, he challenged everyone who was serious about living his message to do so, to be a living example of someone whose love was universal, a love that embraced the unlovable—the enemy, the ill, the imprisoned, the one on the other side of good society. We were never promised that it would be easy or simple or peaceful; we were promised that we’d never be alone in this work of building the shalom kingdom. In the midst of everything, perhaps that is the most wonderful gift of all—the confidence that we are not alone.

If we can be open to this reality, that God’s love for us is such that we are not alone, we can be open to the reality that everyone is embraced by the love of God. We are the ones who can show this, in small ways and major ways, in overcoming racism and war, in supporting food banks and affordable housing, in sharing in the celebrations and sorrows of those we know—in all the ways that we take the love that God gives us and makes it real in creation.

We’ll soon be leaving this place. We’ll be exposed to stories of violence and hunger and racism and homophobia in the media. We don’t always remember that the reason that such things appear in newspapers is that they are news—for most of us most of the time we don’t directly experience injustice or privation; we aren’t alone in life. But we called at all times and in all places to show that compassion is not really newsworthy; that ultimately being the agents of God’s love is normal for us. By doing so we truly keep Martin Luther King’s dreams alive, we bring to life the divine kingdom, we reach beyond our personal limitations to more closely becoming the people we were created and called to be. We put aside the fear that the murder of those who inspire us can create and ensure that their loving life continues.