The Transfiguration (C Year): Prayers
Readings
First Reading: Exodus 34:29-35
Psalm Reading: Psalm 99:1-9
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 3:12 — 4:2
Gospel: Luke 9:28-36
Hymns
“We Have Come At Christs’s Own Bidding” (insert)
“Kyrie”
“Glory to God in the Highest”
“How Good, Lord, to be Here” (LBW 89)
“Now We join in Celebration”
“I Was Full of Joy”
“O Wondrous Type! O Vision Fair”
Prayers for Transfiguration Sunday
Let us pray for the whole people of God, in Christ Jesus, and for all peoples according to their needs.
● Holy One; we hear today how that “stilled” your disciples were able to see you in a new light, as glory enwrapped you. Help us to be stilled long enough, often enough, to truly experience you so that we, your Church, hear your teachings, and follow as disciple communities.
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
● God of Transfiguration; on the mountain that day the great leaders of Judaism came to prepare you for the ultimate valley experience: Moses, the great Exodus guide spoke of a new exodus and a new covenant — in you; Elijah, forerunner before John, telling of the Day of the Lord and fulfillment to come. We hear the prophets then, and now, and yet hesitate to commit ourselves. Help us in this season to take up our cross to follow.
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
● God of the World into which we are led; you once led an ancient people through a wilderness time in order to shift the stasis of slavery to that of freedom and unity. Our Church and our world seem caught in various wilderness times humanly wrought, locally and globally. We would ask your guidance in this time of wondering and wanderings ‚ so that we learn, together, to be fully human and fully your people.
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
● God of Exodus; we do not always hear our words of confession as a re-commitment, a promise to move on forgiven, and renewed for our journy and the work you call each of us to do. Help us to hear what we say, and what it is you say to us, so that we be led into right paths.
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
● God of the World you created good; we read of your covenant with creation and yet allow our actions to obliterate starlight; our experiments and comfort choices to pollute the heavens; our actions to endanger species; woodland caribou, polar bears, badgers, rare species, bees, those creatures not yet named, yet endangered — and therefore deemed unimportant. We would pray 
at this time for the damage being done to the Amazon, the new desecration created for Brazil’s hosting of COP30, and the many ways the world finds rationales for avoiding responsibility for both the present and ongoing avoidance of future harms. Help us to be those who challenge both apathy and cynicism in this regard
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
● God of the World Community; we ask for your guidance as we are faced with wars and rumours of war — seemingly across our world: Sudan, Congo, Syria, the ongoing struggles between peoples once colonized into nations, and for all made refugees inside and outside of their countries. We continue to pray for Ukraine, that the world stand against Russian aggression and U.S. indifference at this time of crisis and critical decisions. As well, we pray for the people of Gaza and the West Bank, also Semites, and the present critical overreaction of Israel that has caused them to forget their own history, as they perpetuate injustice. As requested, we pray, too, for the United Sates of America which has seemed to lose its way over the last years; leading to this present intensifying of a world in crisis; forgetting liberty and justice for all as world orders are scorned, refugees and immigrants shackled, university students intimidated, reporters limited in scope, truth debased. Bring reason, O God, through your Holy People and all who believe in an ordered and just world.
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
●God of Our Lives; we ask your guidance in this wilderness time of international stress, despair and sense of unreality; for the present and for that which is to come. We ask your protection from the slavers of today, as a new kind of servitude is demanded of free peoples and the echo of jackboots seem again in our midst. Lead us to move beyond acquiescence or immobility, to stand as your people who as servants to one another are not subservient. Be with all variously in crisis, the lonely, those ill, those who await reception from Afghanistan in the United States of America, and Canada, awaiting our commitment and the trust placed in us for their work done.
In our lives in our communities, we pray for those we love, and those we should love more, for all we name before you (…names…).
P. God of mercy,
C. hear us we pray.
Into your hands, God of mercy, we commend all for whom and for which we would pray, trusting in your mercy. Through Jesus Christ Our Lord we pray this.
Amen.
Sermon for the First Sunday after the Epiphany
First Reading: Isaiah 6:1-2, 3-8
Psalm 138:1-5, 7-8 (Psalms Anew)
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 15;1-11
Gospel: Luke 5:1-11
Hymns:
“I, the Lord of Sea and Sky” (WOV)
“You Have Come Down to the Lakeshore (WOV)
“Create In Me A Clean Heart”
“Jesu, Jesu, Fill Us With Your Love (WOV)
“Your Kingdom Come” (LBW; alt. Rev. J. J. Trudeau 2000)
AN EPIPHANY is the drawing back of the curtain of ignorance and darkness, so that illumination takes place, light breaks through, the mystery is revealed, the unknown made known. During the Season of Epiphany we look at who Jesus is and try to probe the mystery of the child the Magi came to adore; and who shocked the hometown crowd who thought they knew Him. The Epiphany Season is one of those times when we have a sense of “I think I’ve got it!” as we realize anew that Jesus is much more than a legendary figure, prophet, or teacher. Jesus is, we recognize, the Promised One, Messiah, Son of God. The Epiphany Season is a bridge between the tellings of Christ’s birth and His Passion. In this season, we “shift” from the. wonder of Christ’s Natal Event, Christmas, to ponder the Transfiguration, and see — over each — the shadow of the cross. The overarching theme of Epiphany is, of course, how that Jesus, the Christ of God, is revealed.
There were shepherds, abiding or living, with their sheep, in the fields near Bethlehem, we read. Suddenly an all-encompassing light shone round them and an angel, then an angelic choir, filled the sky with words of Peace and songs of praise, telling them “today” is born to you, in the city of David, a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, Messiah; whose coming would change their lives and that of the world. They became first witnesses.
As I read the Isaiah text, the Advent Hymn, “’Twas in the Year…” ran through my head.
‘Twas in the year that King Uzziah died,
A vision by Isaiah was espied:
A lofty throne, the Lord was set thereon;
And with God’s glory all the temple shone.
Bright Seraphim were standing round about;
Six wings had every of that quire devout;
With twain it awesome veiled its face, and so
With twain it dreadful veiled its feet below,
With twain did it now hither, thither fly:
And thus aloud did one to other cry:
Holy is God, the God of Sabaoth,
Holy is God, the God of Sabaoth,
Holy is God, the God of Sabaoth,
Full is God’s glory o’er earth and heaven, both.
And at their cry the lintels moved apace,
And clouds of incense filled the Holy Place.
(A paraphrase of Isaiah 6:1-3; alt. Reverend J. J. Trudeau 2025)
The hymn reminds us of 1st Isaiah, the 8th century BC prophet, Isaiah, and his call, a call that echoes through Advent and is recalled throughout Epiphany, perhaps to remind us of God’s call, through the ages, so as to be mindful of God’s call to each one of us.
The texts today have a pattern. Isaiah meets God face to face in the Temple — through a vision, as God calls him to become God’s Prophet, to leave the comfort of the palace, and his secure and safe place, to be marked by God as God’s spokesperson, changing his identity for God’s sake. He is called, despite his own perceived unworthiness, or perhaps because of it. Each called, have a struggle with self — and with God’s call or particular call.
While writing to the Corinthians, Paul recalls both his own call of God and his sense of unworthiness, and this for some sound reasons, in his case. He writes, “Last of all, as one untimely born, Christ appeared also to me, so we proclaim, and so you have come to believe.”
The pericopes, or scriptural selections, chosen for this day, in C year, focus on God’s call, but also on God’s impatience with our excuses, or resistance to following.
In Advent we heard, again, how that Zechariah, priest of God, yet disbelieved in the miracle promised to himself and to Elizabeth, the birth of John in their old age. In consequence Zechariah was made speechless, mute, until the birth took place. We have heard of various hesitations, as with Jeremiah, who lamented his youthfulness and limitations. There would seem to be an ongoing pattern of hesitation and even delaying tactics. For each priest and prophet there is a cultural shift to be made, an acceptance of being set apart, accepting a form of loneliness, and frequently a sense of isolation. Few go so far as Jonah to avoid their clear call of God — and changes that call will undoubtedly bring. Still we are given glimpses of the progression of call and response and how each response would pave the way for something more to take place. It might not be what each one (each of us) expected. Nor may we see the end result. but answer — they and we — must.
We move from the “Woe is me” to respond “Lord, send me” and God declares that prophetic voices do not “go out void”, that is, go into empty space or sounds of silence, though it surely seemed, and seems, like that all too often.
Jesus gathered an eclectic group around Him, creating a kind of seminary in which disciple men and women would learn to begin the task of telling the good news. The Messiah, foretold by those earlier Prophets was present — had come — and was promising to come again. Initially much of His teaching went over their heads, until they would connect the pattern of His teachings 
with the crucifixion and resurrection; and that time with them before the Ascension. For some, their awareness was an Emmaus or a Damascus journey. And there is a time and place when we, too, reach a new openness and awareness.
However limited we may believe ourselves to be, God, as expressed through the life of Christ, and through the gift of the Holy Spirit, calls us to participate in bringing the Reign of God to fruition. This means counteracting the cynicism of our society, the casual, “I believe in God but not institutions;” I’m good enough; “I do not need the Church” or the radical secularism that claims but disallows others the freedom to believe in or live their belief through put-downs, insistence that crosses, stars of David, hijabs or priestly collars not be visibly worn, while claiming this to be a matter of their freedom. We are not talking here about tracts or shouting street-side pseudo prophets, but of a right to hold to one’s personal belief, part of Charter Rights and Freedoms, even as they are doors of the sacred.
But despite how little time , talent, or treasure many are willing to offer God, or charities that care for the least ones (Mt. 25), most expect God to rescue them, assist them, scoop them from crisis, be the one armed bandit in the sky for all things.
A Southern Baptist minister said this: “…a complication [for those raised with a certain view of “witness] is that the pervasive God-talk is actually talk of God. Often it isn’t. Much of the time God-talk is religious and political talk. Some speak of God and the Lord Jesus with a casualness that makes me wonder if the Lord Jesus [they speak of] is the same one before whom Peter fell down.”
I couldn’t agree more, as the “God bless you,” and “God bless America” springs from unholy lips and from the most unlikely persons. Casual doesn’t quite cover it. In Canada, radical secularism discounts our Lord in yet other ways, as religious rights are casually erased — despite Charter Rights, as experienced. Who then will be God’s peace and presence, unashamed, to be counted as part of the people of God, a lineage of those faithful, saints on earth and in heaven?
Our own roots, our Judeo-Christian roots, are firmly planted in, and with, a progression of the faithful, from whom we can find courage.
The Gospel, today, reminds us, as do the stories of Herod and the Holy Innocents murdered at his behest, that there are risks to being the Peace and Presence of God. Our Lord knew this, as He set about drawing disciples from across a wide swath of society. Their world would change — as they changed their world.
There are some parallels to calls of God, such as those of Peter, and later of Paul. There was a defining moment, as there is for each and all. We have heard texts over the last few weeks that address the various gifts given to each and the importance of each gift, and how these together become building blocks, or as Judy Small writes, one brick in the wall — but integral to the wall. Or, as Jesus describes; branches part of a vine, required to produce good fruit. The Christ who calls is the one proclaimed in the mission of the Church. Conversion and vocation are the fundamental miracles.
The leading prophets of old, and those Jesus called into leadership, were not, are most usually still not, engaged in a religious quest when called; but as with Gideon, and Matthew, were in the midst of daily life and work, as was Peter and those earliest men and woman disciples.
And so — today’s Gospel has brought us to the Sea of Galilee, also called Lake Gennesaret, where fisher folk have given Jesus a boat from which to teach the crowds, despite their interrupted mending of nets, and exhaustion from working all night without a catch. Then — a miracle happens for them — to them — and they are themselves, in a manner of speaking, hooked, netted, drawn in to now “catch people,” as Jesus says.
We may not have such a spectacular call — but unless we listen for even a still small voice — as with Samuel — we may miss what God has in mind for us. May we be open to our time of epiphany, that call that comes any time in our lives — that asks something else — or something more — of us, and reveals God to us in a new and profound way.
The courage to be myself eludes me,
A shadow of what might be, I remain,
And all the while in other lives I see
The wholeness that I lack and can’t attain.
The freedom to be myself eludes me,
For freedom itself does not liberate;
To be free to serve is the key to love
That can make of life a meaningful state.
The challenge of loving faith includes me,
I hear this call and can never stay out,
For love without [belief] is but sentiment
And faith is the courage to live in doubt.
(E.M., A nun of Burnham Abbey)
Amen.
The Reverend J. J. Trudeau
THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT
Readings:
First Reading: Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15
Psalm Reading: Psalm 103:1-4, 6-8, 11 (from Psalms Anew)
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12
The Holy Gospel: Luke 13:1-9
Hymns
“Holy, Holy, Holy” (LBW #165)
Kyrie for Lent: “Your Heart, O God, Is grieved” (LBW #96)
“Healer of Our Every Ill” (WOV #738)
Offertory: “Guide Me Ever Great Redeemer” (LBW #343)
Post Communion Canticle: “For the Bread Which You Have Broken” (LBW #200)
“Be Thou My Vision” (WOV #776)
Our identity as Christians is formed by the nature of the God we worship. The call to worship, “We live as we worship, we worship as we live,” is neither properly heard, nor understood, it seems. We go from sacred space, Holy Ground, to be and extend holy ground. It is not by accident that the Godhead created us in God’s image and likeness and then gave us stewardship of, not dominion over, creation.
Reflecting God back to others as creatures, not Creator, seems to confuse too many, especially as technology seems to draw us to take ever bigger bites of that “apple.” Because we seem unable to trust God we create more comfortable, or exacting, gods to deal with our demands, angers and frustrations … “why, if there is a God of love and mercy, do bad things happen to good people?” “Why do earthquakes, cyclones, and catastrophes happen? Why? Why Ukraine, why neutrality of sorts, in such a crisis? Where is God in all of this?”
The texts, of the third Sunday in Lent, address the ways in which people try to explain life, and understand God, in crisis times. The first reading may seem to be out of sync with the gospel — but listen….
Moses is out tending sheep, being a shepherd at this point in his life, when he is amazed to see a bush burning without being consumed. Interested, inquisitive, he moves closer to see if what he thinks he sees is real — or merely a mirage. Then, a voice demands that he stop and remove his shoes, this being holy ground. The Presence, addressing him, describes Godself as Yahweh, meaning, “I Am Who I Am,” “I Will Be Who I will Be.”
• Take off your shoes, you are standing on Holy Ground.
• It’s about the nature of the God we worship, or are called to worship.
The removal of shoes or sandals becomes a symbol, or metaphor, for whatever is stained or soiled in our lives. This — we remove in God’s presence. Thus we begin our worship services with The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, clearing our hearts/minds for hearing, and taking to heart, what God has to say to us. The removal of shoes to enter sacred space is not just ancient Christian tradition, it is an ancient symbol of how one enters sacred space. The later addition of men removing their hats, completely, when entering a worship site, is similar, but different, a symbol of fealty, recognizing a power different and higher than theirs. But headdress is another story for another day.
“Take off your shoes, you are standing on Holy Ground.”
There is yet another level to the removal of footwear, when entering Holy ground. With shoes off we are able to have Holy Ground touch us, enter our pores, earth us, touch the Ground of Being as we stand barefooted. In some way this is not dissimilar to our palms cupped, open, weaponless, vulnerable, to receive the Sacrament of the Altar. Thus — open to receive, we cannot clench a fist — but come — as supplicant, in peace — to receive peace. Shoes off, we have made a statement to remain, to accept, what God calls
us to do and be.
The call of Moses, as unlikely as it seemed to him with his history (Exodus 1:11-15), was to lead a people out of slavery to freedom. This despite the stupidities that got them into the crisis to begin with. If you read the stories of howEgyptian people become landless (Genesis 47;13-26; Genesis 41:50-52) and learned to hate the Hebrew peoples, in consequence, you see that — through not honouring the Egyptian peoples’ holy ground, not acting as guests or a light to that nation, they built, albeit unwittingly, a crisis of huge proportion. Then they called to God to rescue them. What on earth is God for otherwise? Well, God did “come down” to rescue them, not just from the Egyptians but from themselves. However, there was a wilderness time to go through, a time to reconnect as a people and as God’s people, a time to learn what it is, and means, to stand on Holy Ground, to not derive, or try to derive, their security from themselves by creating God in their image and likeness, a comfortable god holding their opinions, prejudices and complacencies, while keeping their shoes firmly fixed on their feet.
The tendency for creature to try to worship itself, rather than its Creator, seems to be an ongoing deviant trait within humankind. We might think of this as humankind creates AI. Within this day’s Gospel pericope we are challenged, yet again, to not derive our security from ourselves through willfully misunderstanding the God Who Is, or through mis-teaching, misconstruction or inadequate interpretations. We are given the responsibility to inform our faith to believing, through constant return to Holy Ground; the Sacraments, Scripture and Tradition. Believing, we recognize the nature of the God we worship.
Some remain confused. I hear, at funerals, “God must have wanted him/her more than you do,” or “he/she was too good to live” (or the opposite), or “it was God’s will,” “it was her /his time to go,” and much, much worse. The sayings of Jesus (vv. 1-9) make the strong point that tragedy cannot be held as proof of righteousness or its opposite. As with the Hebrew peoples, the world is a constant reminder of God’s patience, the word “grace” says it all.
It is easy to create a god to rationalize what we do, forming a god who conforms to culture. I was appalled to hear a sermon segment, by a Canadian Military Chaplain, that essentially spoke of God as being on our side, since we (Canadians/the Western World) were fighting for good, and right and freedom. Seemingly, that put God in our debt, and so a blanket “shoo in” would take place in consequence. It’s the kind of black and white rhetoric that sanitizes home invasions by soldiers, collateral damage — so called — of citizens, the arrest of innocent people on supposition — for torture, or incarceration, so called rendition (another euphemism for shanghaiing people and whisking them away to hidden prisons without trials or due process) and rationalizing the imprisonment of child soldiers, dismissing their rights as citizens — with God on our side. It reminds me of the Joan Baez song, “God On Our Side.”
What was most significant about 9/11 was, and is, that the USA has held itself to be righteous, therefore somehow impervious to terrorism and its extremes, this despite US schools and colleges being attacked in various ways by angry citizens, or psychotic ones, and major bombings, among other and ugly at home situations, like Trump et al.
But the shock was from “out there””and threatened the belief that Manifest Destiny was accepted internationally and the God “in whom we trust,” or at least the god we created in our image and likeness, is on our side. People may find this a harsh evaluation but the months of rhetoric, flag waving and wearing, was hard to watch. “People who believe themselves to be the incarnation of the good””one author wrote, “have a distorted view of the world.” Indeed, and of God, too.
Our identity as Christians is formed by the nature of the God we worship. That is what Jesus was addressing that day. He was speaking to a crowd that seemed to believe, despite arguments to the contrary, that God wills all things, therefore human choices for good or ill, evils and death, also, things — “sent by God to try us” or “to punish us,” or “permitted to test us.” We still hear these things. I have. You have. It’s a kind of fatalism, “God wills it.” It can only follow, then, that whatever comes is preordained, fated. We heard some of this after 9/11, and with disasters great and small. even as events today are being experienced. It’s a cop-out.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus is told of what seems to be a current event As told, Roman soldiers, under orders from Pilate, have butchered some Galilean pilgrims sacrificing at the Temple. The inference seems to be that God has therefore rejected the ~ Galileans, and their sacrifice most especially, the “wages of sin” being death, quite literally. And, to this telling, Jesus responds with another current happening, a story to match a story, not quite so sensational but no less tragic. Recently a tower has collapsed killing 18 people.
Nothing is said of the reason, whether shoddy work, earthquake or happenstance — just a rather bald parallel story and a negation of any reason for such a thing to happen. The righteous, He tells them, are not exempt from accident, error, or tragedy, nor are those who experience tragedy and suffering guilty, or deserving of some major slap from on high. Political events and natural disasters cannot be interpreted as punishment from God, or a wakeup call of sorts, for heavens sake! As a neighbour constantly says, “Shit happens.”
But, lest people, and parliaments, and nations, and multinationals, decide that there is no answerability, Jesus tells a short and pointed parable about an unproductive fig tree.
Apparently fig trees bear fruit at three years of age. Anyone who has fruit trees knows how we watch for that first blossom, and excitedly wait for the tree to move from one or two pieces of fruit to a loaded tree. But this
particular tree hasn’t done anything but grow leaves. Frustrating! Very! I have seen fig trees sprawling across the ground, rooting as black currants do, wherever the branches touched ground (such is the verdancy fig trees are capable of) a veritable forest of productive roots and branches. However, in 
this story — nothing. “So,” says the landowner, “cut it down. It’s just taking up space.” But the gardener, its planter, insists that the tree be given one more year of care, fertilizer and pruning, a year of mercy, in fact; to change, grow and mature — but a timeframe nevertheless.
The logic is surely with the landowner — but grace is given and judgment delayed, even so. The listeners, believing as they do, think that since they haven’t personally experience tragedy or insolvency, or disaster, that they are free to continue as they are. But the parable is about not them, per se, but about God’s patience and willingness to offer each a space of time to turn their lives around. The delay in the inevitable consequence of sin should not be taken as God’s approval, or indifference, but of God’s mercy.
The three stories, one from the realm of politics, from daily life and from rural living, are not about how we see or perceive life; or make conclusions regarding our own “righteousness” because things are “just fine” for us. The call to repentance is for everyone, everywhere. Jesus’ largest problems were with the “religious folk,” those who thought they could follow a set pattern of rules and qualify. But Jesus, God made manifest, talks about commitment, faithfulness and fruit bearing.
Our identity as Christians is framed by the nature of the God, or god, that we worship. If we attribute to God our insularity, or desire for vengeance, or retribution, the belief in Manifest Destiny, or any “ism” that minimizes others, and ultimately ourselves, we are not living as the Imago Dei.
Our identity as Christians is framed by the nature of the God, or god, we worship.
Think on this! Amen.
Prayer After the Sermon
God of Life and Love, we are people who, for the most part, seek safety and certainty in life. Even those who stand at a distance from you expect your intervention in crisis. We hear, today, that you stand near — to water our roots through those sent to be gardeners/shepherds, and to fertilize such belief as is in us — then the rest is up to us. Give us the will to act responsibly in life and in relationships — so that growth continues and good fruit is produced. In your name we pray this. Amen.
Prayers of the Faithful
Let us pray for the whole people of God, in Christ Jesus, and for all peoples — according
to their needs.
– Holy One, we, your people, hear this prayer preface without always taking it in. We are praying not simply for Christians but for all people — everywhere — in all the places they are needful. Praying for them brings them into our lives and into our reality. Help us to truly be your Body in this world, those who help change realities; healing, forgiving, feeding, clothing, serving, others — while walking gently on their holy ground.
P. God of mercy,
R. Hear our prayer.
-Healing One, we’ve learned too well the lessons of blame and judgment. Too many still
believe that you send health or wellness, that AIDS is judgment, that children should receive harsh sentences and child soldiers even more so. It is easier to lock up all perceived deviants, psychotics, or those too different, closing our hearts and borders to “otherness.” You tell us in so many ways that this is our “stuff,” our judgment, not yours. Help us to address our fears, and those ways we protect “our way of life” at all costs,
even the cost of what we claim to believe.
P. God of mercy,
R. Hear our prayer.
-God of Judgment, you tell us of sin and judgment and our guilts ands fears want to tell us
that “success” is a mark of your approval and that evil is what someone else does. Help
us to recognize all of the places in our lives that cause pain to, and for, others; all the smugnesses, smallness, refusals to act, and the choice of apathy. We admit these to be things that permit evil and sloth to take hold of our lives, and so — also — our world. give us the strength and the will to change, to repent.
P. God of mercy,
R. Hear our prayer.
-Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, today we ask your pardon and your
peace for each gathered. Help us to be those who are present for the hurting among us,
those fearful, grieving or lonely, or holding to sins you have long forgiven.
Be with, we pray you, all those among us, and beloved of us, who are in need of our prayers and your touch of healing (raise names and considerations).
Be with those at a distance, or distanced from us, all who travel, and those variously
absent….
P. God of mercy, R. Hear our prayer.
R. Hear our prayer.
Into your hands, O Holy One, we would commend all for whom, and for which, we would pray — trusting ever in your mercy. Through Jesus Christ, Our Lord, we pray this. Amen.
Ponderings
I have pondered, this last while, on events within what was once called “the Free World” how tenuous freedom actually is. As Canadians, our history is less violent than that of the U.S., at our border, and I believe more interesting. All Canadians should be required to at least audit Canadian history. However, neither were we free of the shibboleths of power in settlement — or as those initially colonized. Lately I I read the book, As Near To Heaven By Sea; A History of Newfoundland and Labrador by Kevin Major and was taken aback by both conquest and indifference at the hands of Great Britain, firstly, and then by the many countries who fished and overfished the Grand Banks over centuries. It all boils down to what can be said, e.g., that the golden rule is suborned by those who have the gold, or essentially who hold the power. Everyone should also read The Shipping News by Annie Proulx, and The Colony of Unrequited Dreams by Wayne Johnston. Each about Newfoundland and its development as a people, and as part of Canada. Newfoundland is a wonderful and beautiful place. Still largely innocent, it seemed in visiting. We each have a story that informs our lives and how we view reality.
Of late, I have read other books because of Canada’s present reality, digging out old books on Hitler and Mussolini, and — again — the well written, and troubling, book by Madeleine Albright, Fascism: A Warning. It shockingly addresses what seems to now be taking place presently in the U.S.A. The change, as gradual as one might think at first, has intensified. The decline of
what we choose to call democracy, as market economy, has historic and present problems. One only needs to keep tabs on the debacle between Hamas, and Israel who rationalizes the destruction of a people, also Semitic, also the “People of the Book,” to see how easily injustice can be rationalized. We have also to watch women’s issues in the U.S., the treatment of international leaders, and the treatments of strangers and sojourners shackled and without due process. It would seem that even the misty flats are slipping, as the expression of the poet would have it.
To every [one] there openeth
A Way, and Ways, and a Way.
And the High Soul climbs the High way,
And the Low Soul gropes the Low,
And in between on the misty flats
the rest drift to and fro.
The landslides are more probable then regaining the high road, always a possibility.
It is important to have a basis for making ethical decisions. Good literature and integrity within media sources help, as do sacred scriptures. Such are used to present us with critical thinking rather than blind compliance. The book, The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, sets before the reader the question of who is truly free and who enslaved, using scriptural metaphors of Egypt, wilderness times and Canaan, the land of milk and honey. It criticizes the misuse of scripture (proof texting) and religion weaponized. Whatever some may say, or refuse to let others read of justifiable critique of religion is dangerous. Quotes misused to shore up shibboleths, insularity, greed and ideology are shameful. I frequently am wont to say, “Poor God,” as some people and groups denigrate the Holy by what they do, or mostly do not do. We note this in our Public Confession as worship services begin. At times I wonder if people listen to what they say in prayer — which is important. Listening to oneself is part of God’s answer. It is something to think about.
Vows in Today’s Context
I have noted a penchant for the use of “pretty things” at workshops, and other non-liturgical settings, without any real understanding of the historic or liturgical significance of their use. One such “borrowing” is the present use of 
votive lights. Stores sell votive lights as just one more candle for decorative purposes, and they are scattered throughout rooms as accessories.
The word votive, comes from the Latin votum, a vow — or promise — to God. The use of votive lights is undoubtedly rooted in the ancient sacrifices — made along with vows — at altars. The perpetual flame, the light of the Presence near the altar, signified and signifies God’s Covenant (vow) to, and with, God’s people. This immediate altar area alone was sanctuary. This was, and is, true within Christian history and belief, where God’s hospitality and protection extended out from the sanctuary. Later, the light would also be lit for the reserved sacrament, for obvious reasons. Since only priests serving the altar, or people seeking refuge, sanctuary seekers, were permitted near the sacred altar, it makes sense that chapels, and votive stands, evolved as places for laity to focus their hopes, devotion, intercession, thanksgiving for deliverance, all named as “vows” in scripture(psalm 56:12-13; 66:13-15; 79:13, 80:18 etc). Vows, then, were made before the Light of the Presence (1S.1:12-18). Later, votive lights would become an expression of what one desired from God, or promised to God(votus, of— or relating to — a vow). They are also visible symbols, in the fullest sense of that word, of belief in God’s commitment to humankind, the light shining in the world’s darkness, and life’s struggles. The light — lit — also symbolizes the prayer rising upward, and continuing upward as the candle burns; expressing God’s presence, warmth and assurance (John 1:4-5). The votive light conveys, even as it expresses the need of God, the belief in God’s action for us, and one’s own re-commitment to the Christian journey. All this is also a re-stating of our baptismal vows to live as God’s people.
The word votive is a powerful word. The word”votary” is used for those taking a solemn perpetual vow to serve God; clergy, nuns, monks and sometimes holy hermits. It was also used of devoted worshippers such as medieval Bedesmen, who committed themselves to a life of service and prayer(beadsmen, those who told their beads, or said their rosaries), or anchorites, “enclosed” for the life of the world. Anna and Simeon would appear to be early examples of such people, having committed themselves to temple service and prayer for Messiah’s coming (Lk 2:25-32). Juliana of Norwich was such another, in medieval times.
Votive Masses were said for special intentions and in times of special need, outside of the regular offices of the liturgical year. In times of distress and plague the Church reminded God of the Covenant with us.Such, too, are votive candles, burning to remind us of vows made and God’s promises given. The present usage is minimalist, to say the least, unless they are used in times of home prayer and meditation, recalling their meaning and intent. They are the things of vows and prayer, visible symbols of human need and God’s faithfulness.
If thou hast broken a vow, tie a knot on it to make it hold together again. It is spiritual thrift, and no misbecoming baseness, to piece and join thy neglected promises with fresh ones. So shall thy vow in effect be not broken when new mended (Thomas Feuler).