February 2013 – James Robert Kitson

Trance

“If only.” It’s a seductive mindset. It’s also a form of unconsciousness. Its appeal is clarity but its reality is obtuseness. It reduces complexities to single issues and singular ways of dealing with those issues. It creates villains, the elimination of whom/which will solve our current problem(s). And we all say it, do it, think it: If only …

It’s the most common mindset behind interniational and inter-ethnic strife and hatred. It’s at the heart of work and family conflict. It poisons our souls. It’s a way of ethically and relationally sleep-walking through life, and it’s time for us all to wake up.

That’s what I’m addressing in this Sunday’s message. Reading: Luke 13:1-9.

If Even a Life Is Given

He wanted to just put his arms around them (reading for Lent 2, Luke 13:31-35). But they, the people of Jerusalem, had their own agenda for themselves, and for him. And do we not also? Or is he even part of our agenda? Do we recognize the consequences at stake? What does it take to change a mind, anyway?

He Has Nothing to Prove

This coming Sunday is the first Sunday in Lent. The Gospel lesson is the temptation of Jesus in Luke 4:1-13. Jesus could have used, accepted, or displayed power to satisfy his real physical hunger, to have world power right then and there, or to demonstrate suoeriority. Any of thse would have sabotaged his real purpose, to go to Jerusalem and the cross that he knew awaited him. We might endure temptation in order to gain something good; Jesus passed this test in order to move toward even greater pain and suffering, for our sake. He passed the test, at his temptation and at the cross. He has nothing to prove.

What about us? Is there ever a time when we are not tested? Is there ever a time you do not feel you have something to prove?

Frank Conkey

I attended a funeral today for a man I had never met. I have heard much about him, however, in the past weeks at St. Andrew’s, Ajax. He had been minister there years ago. Frank died last week, just one month short of ninety years of age. It was a lovely service. The main speaker had been his friend for seventy years. Much was celebrated by way of his years and excellence in ministry. But what was most telling, moving, and important, was that he was a devoted husband and father. And most important of all–a comment I took away to be a matter for some personal, honest reflection–“He lived what he preached.”