Great Pumpkins! Hallowe’en and the Church October 29, 2017 Trillium United Church Mono Mills (Combining Hallowe’en and All Saints)

Hebrews 12:1-2          

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”       

This sermon is dedicated to my Dad, Rev. Russell Vickers, who died at the end of January 2004. In going through Dad’s sermons, I found one specifically called “Hallowe’en and the Saints”. The sermon is also dedicated to my mother, Kay Vickers, whose birthday was November 1, All Saints Day.

The sermon grew out of several things. Back in 2004, I saw an item in the news about one family which was not celebrating Hallowe'en because they considered it 'un-Christian' - they claimed dressing up as witches and goblins is a 'pagan' thing, not suitable for Christians. I was a little bemused, but then a couple of days later overheard a conversation at the check-out counter in the grocery store, about the non-Christian aspects of Hallowe'en. Then I saw an article about an evangelical church group in the US which is celebrating “Jesus-ween” as an alternative to Hallowe’en. Earlier this week I saw a segment on CTV, where the host spoke about Hallowe’en being a celebration of the dead, and All Saints being a celebration of the living. Well, no. It was another example of not only sloppy journalism, but of people who simply don’t understand where Hallowe’en even originated - so they have an opinion, based in a lack of knowledge of anything outside their own personal experience, and try to insert Jesus into a festival where Jesus has been, one way or another, for hundreds of years anyway. It’s one more example of a society which has become so anti-intellectual that no one bothers any more to check whether or not they actually do know. Social media and the internet are great if we know how to use them – but not if we do superficial work and try to pass it off as factual.

So, I have a few thoughts as we come to another Hallowe’en. First, in our scramble to be 'right', without even knowing the background of where our holidays come from, we can surely suck a lot of the joy out of life. To me, life would be flat and stale without at least one witch on a broomstick, or a ghost or small-sized devil out collecting plunder at the door! And costumes can be much more creative these days. My sister as a young woman created a costume called the Sugar Plum Fairy, from the story of the Nutcracker. A few years ago one of my granddaughters was a firefighter, one was Xena the Warrior Princess, and my grandson was a knight. Their choice of character was fascinating. They had a wonderful time, and so did Grandma.

Second, Hallowe'en is just as Christian a celebration as any of our other holiday celebrations. Christmas and Easter also incorporate elements of what we call "pagan" faiths. During Advent we will light candles on a wreath, but do we know that the wreath was originally a huge wagon wheel hung from the ceiling of a meeting hall, decorated with evergreens and lit with candles – and had nothing at all to do with Christianity. Yet it’s now an integral part of our Advent observations. The Christmas tree was purely a Druidic symbol. In fact, Hebrew Scripture contains the admonishment never to cut green trees. The Yule log, and the word Yule, is an old Viking addition. The egg at Easter was originally a pagan symbol, yes, but it denotes rebirth and new life. The same holds true of the Easter bunny. In fact, early missionaries to what are now called the British Isles and the Celtic peoples, saw the similarities between stories in each faith, and decided to use those existing Celtic Druidic festivals as a vehicle for explaining and conversion to the new faith.

For the Celtic peoples of Ireland, Scotland, Wales and Brittany, November 1 marked the beginning of a new year and the coming of winter. The night before the new year in the old calendar, they celebrated the festival of Samhain (Saween), in which the god of the earth died, to be reborn in the spring when new life returned. At the spring solstice, Beltane, the god rose again, the days lengthened, and life returned to the earth.

With the rise of Christianity, the festival of Samhain became Hallowmas, or All Saints, to commemorate the souls of the blessed dead who had been canonized that year. The night before became known as All Hallows Eve, or Hollantide. November 2^nd became All Souls Day, when prayers were offered to the souls of all departed and those who were waiting in Purgatory for entry into Heaven. Throughout the centuries, pagan and Christian beliefs intertwined in celebrations from October 31st right through to November 5^th. - but in the end Hallowe’en - All Hallows Eve - All Saints, and All Souls became Christian celebrations and feast days.

During the celebration of Samhain, October 31 and November 1, the Celts believed that the barrier, the veil, between this world and the next, were at their thinnest, and the souls of the dead could return to spend time with the living. Coincidentally, Christians also believed the very same thing. Candles were placed in windows, to light the way for spirits to return to their homes. Extra places were set at the dinner table in case a deceased member of the family came. In order to scare away evil spirits which might also cross over, people wore masks and costumes, lit bonfires, carved out turnips and rutabagas, and put a candle inside, as a lamp to light the way.

When the Romans conquered the Celts, they added their own touches to the Samhain festival; they made centerpieces out of apples and nuts for Pomona, the Roman goddess of the orchards. They also bobbed for apples and drank cider. Sound familiar?

Now, let's jump back a little in our Christian history. In 835CE, Pope Gregory IV decided to move the celebration for all the martyrs (all the saints) from May 13 to November 1. So October 31 became “All Hallows Even” or “All Holy Evening” and eventually contracted into our word Hallowe’en. It coincided perfectly with the Celtic celebration of Samhain and the Roman festival of Pomona. The very strong similarities of the coming of the dark, and the rise of the light in the spring, were not lost on the early missionaries – and they used both of those as vehicles for converting the Celtic peoples to the Christian faith.

On November 2, the Church celebrates All Souls Day. These were feast days in the church, and their purpose was to remember those who have died, whether they were officially recognized by the Church as saints or not. It is a celebration of the 'communion of saints,' which reminds us that the Church is not bound by space or time. But while the church creatively substituted its own celebration, it also retained some elements of the pagan faith, which fit in with the superstitions of the time. Bear in mind that in the early medieval Christian church, witches and warlocks, imps, goblins, and evil souls were all part of belief anyway. Dressing up in costume to scare these 'evil' things became a part of the whole, from the Christian perspective as well as the Druidic.

The modern festival of Day of the Dead derives in part from Pre-Hispanic times, notably the Aztecs, who believed that after a person died, his/her soul would pass through nine levels prior to their final destination, Mictlan - the place of the dead. They also believed that a person's destiny was founded at birth and that the soul of that person was dependent on the type of death rather than the type of life led by that person. How a person died would also determine what region they would go to. Once they arrived in their specific region a person's soul would either await

transformation or linger, awaiting the next destiny. The tenth month of the Aztec calendar included a great feast for dead adults. The Spanish Conquest of 1521 brought about the fusion of Catholic attitudes and indigenous beliefs. All Souls Day in Central and South American churches became the Day of the Dead, and it is a result of amalgamation of Pre-Spanish Indian ritual beliefs and the imposed ritual and dogma of the Catholic church.

So the three days - Hallowe'en, All Saints and All Souls - are just enough of a mishmash of different pieces of history and cultures, that to start eliminating any one of them is a foolish and useless exercise. We cannot separate our Christian faith and its non-Christian roots, and I don’t think we should. I think we need learn about them, and look at them in their context.

And we can look at the Christian meaning given to Hallowe'en - that we are an imperishable community from all across the ages. Hallowe'en in its Christian meaning is a source of courage and strength. Do we find it hard to stand up for justice, fair treatment, truth? Let's not forget that we are not the first generation of people to face such issues. Others have walked this same road in some way, in another time, and with the grace of God have come through it.

Finally, I want to tell a story of a little boy named Linus, from the Peanuts comic strip. Linus believes in a strange hybrid of a jack-o-lantern, Santa Claus and prophetic saintly God-character named "The Great Pumpkin." Linus believes the Great Pumpkin will arise from the most sincere Pumpkin Patch on Halloween night and deliver toys to all the true believing children. Of course, Linus actually wants to be in the garden when the benevolent giver of Halloween toys rises from

among the pumpkins. What's important, I think, is that Linus believes. He's never seen the Pumpkin, yet he believes that this saintly and benevolent character exists - he goes into the Pumpkin Patch every year, hopeful - and never gives up.

We have those saints who have gone before, to dispel the darkness and light the way - call them Great Pumpkins if you like - they light the way and they help us to keep in our sight the light of the world, the originator and perfecter of our faith. By understanding the origins of Hallowe'en, we also find ourselves invited into the grandeur of the community of the cloud of witnesses which will never perish and which is never touched by death.

The early Christians, first dispersed by fear and the loss of Jesus, soon found themselves coming together again, a community of living saints bound by faith and a vision - a light in the darkness, the light of faith and commitment. When we come together as a community - yes, to celebrate Hallowe'en or All Hallows, and All Saints, we remember that we are surrounded here in this community, in this church, by the witness of those who have gone before, who support us unseen.

And let’s enjoy the fun and frolic of Hallowe’en, the little faces at the door, the funny costumes - and the joy children get from it. See the history for what it was, and don’t try to create a new thing when we don’t know the origins. We don’t need those excesses demonstrated in Hollywood movies, of course not, but let’s not take the fun out of our life, and out of our faith, because we are afraid of something which really holds no threat at all. Remember that those carved and lit pumpkins are the remnant of a belief in lighting the way; they are to dispel the darkness, banish fears and give courage and faith when all seems dark. So – let’s enjoy knowing our history, and having some fun too.

“I Cannot Come” sermon based on Matthew 22:1-14 preached at Trillium United Church October 15, 2017

Jesus again told them a parable, saying: “The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his servants to those who had been invited to the banquet to tell them to come, but they refused to come. Then he sent some more servants and said, ‘Tell those who have been invited that I have prepared my dinner: My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding banquet.’ But they ignored him and went off—one to his field, another to his business. The rest seized some of his servants, mistreated them and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his army and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.  Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding banquet is ready, but those I invited did not deserve to come. So go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.’ So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, the bad as well as the good, and the wedding hall was filled with guests. But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing wedding clothes. He asked, ‘How did you get in here without wedding clothes, friend?’ The man was speechless.  “Then the king told the attendants, ‘Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are invited, but few are chosen.

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This really qualifies as one of Jesus’ more confusing and not very nice parables. Some of the invitees to the wedding take servants of the king, beat them and kill them.  So the king gets angry and burns down the whole city in which these particular people live, and kills them all. Then he sends the rest of his servants out to find anyone they can to bring to the banquet. By force if necessary. Then one person is thrown out, because he isn’t dressed for a wedding. So how on earth do we preach this parable? And wring any good news out of it at all?

Well, I don’t really like some of these stories, and that’s why I force myself sometimes to preach them. Because they *are* hard. And we have to pick our way through culture, history, and religious understanding. So, let’s try a little context as we pick this apart.

First, when Matthew was written, Jesus had already been dead around fifty years, so there’s a pretty good chance it wasn’t Matthew who wrote it – and in that time a segment of the population believed he was the Messiah. They considered themselves to be Jewish, but their understanding of Judaism wasn't what the Pharisees thought – they considered themselves practicing the Judaism Jesus believed in, the Judaism Jesus taught. This Gospel was written for the Jewish community, after Jerusalem and the temple had been destroyed. There were a lot of Jewish sects and a lot of interpretations of what being Jewish meant – just as today there are plenty of Christian denominations, who all believe they have the right interpretation.  For Judaism, Temple worship was the very core, central to Jewish identity for more than a thousand years, and for many – it still is today – even the story of the destruction of that temple is still recited in services and at weddings. Once the temple was gone, the whole of Jewish identity was in question as well. The Pharisees and other religious leaders were dominant in the push to establish a definition of Judaism to which everyone would agree. They were the religious leaders who believed they were the keepers of God's Law; Jewish identity had to be based in keeping the Law – coincidentally their interpretation of the Law. They were of the religious and priestly castes, and it was their function. In order to ensure that people would follow the Law properly, they had to be seen and understood as the ultimate authority on the law. So it’s understandable to a point. Except that there was no room in their understanding for recognising a Nazarene peasant as a Messiah – even though the coming of a Messiah had been foretold.

So the gospel of Matthew was written as a support for the Matthean community, when the Pharisaic community seemed to be winning. Jesus in the stories not only claims God's authority, but claims that those religious leaders who refuse to recognise him have their authority taken away.  Rev. Karen Golz says “In the parable we read today, God is the king, Jesus is the son, the chief priests and Pharisees are the originally invited guests - the ones who declined the invitation both times and beat and murdered the slaves (who themselves are understood to be the prophets)-and the guests brought in from the main streets are the Gentiles, the non-Jews who would now enjoy a covenant relationship with God.  That was Matthew's goal: to assure his community of their proper place in Jewish history, and to assure them that opening the mission to non-Jews was in accordance with God's will.”

So that was then. What does it mean for us now?

 "The realm of God may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son..."  The one who has created this incredible feast and wants to share it. So the loved ones are invited to come and celebrate. Ahh but they have other more important things to do.

I look at this parable, and I see two things: God who wants to be in relationship with us, and a table set and ready for anyone who wishes to come.  Look at this  - the table is set, the offer is there. There are no bars to the invitation. But a bunch have too many other things to do.

And then there’s that pesky line about how one of the people was not dressed for the wedding. I’m going to make a stretch and suggest that it wasn’t the king who was critical of the clothes, but one of the religious leaders who was there, and was into the ‘holier than thou’ business. Because I don’t think God cares what we have on. I don’t think the king was fussy about clothes if the servants brought in anyone they found who was hungry.

Last week I read a story about a young girl who was set to take her First Communion in a Catholic church. She was excited at this rite of passage in her church. She was a child who loved to wear suits, and had a collection. So she and her mother went shopping for a white suit. As soon as the church heard she was going to wear a suit, they issued a dress code which said girls had to wear white dresses and veils, and boys wore suits. She was denied a place at the table, because of her choice of clothing. And in the discussion which ensued, there was all kinds of commentary about ‘respect for the church’, about the ‘traditions of the church’ ‘respect for God”. And when asked if God had a dress code, no one answered. When asked if Jesus turned anyone away from a meal, no one answered. When asked how this would help a child grow in faith, no one answered.

Well, I've stood at this very pulpit and talked about what being called means, and I know that’s hard for some to wrestle with. We still have this notion of worth  But the truth is, we're called, through no worth or merit of our own. We’re called to the table, first and foremost, regardless of who we are, where we came from, what we have on. God doesn’t care who we are, where we came from, or what we have on. God cares if we care or not. God cares about us even if we don’t care, but God wants us to care enough to be engaged and involved. God says come – lets share together – lets celebrate and eat together at this wedding where justice and love are offered to everyone. God doesn’t turn anyone away, at any time.

God knows life as life should be, life as life could be.  And through unconditional love, no matter who we are, where we come from, or what we have on – God invites us to participate. So come to the banquet.

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Sources: “God’s Party” A sermon based on Matthew 22:1-14 by Rev. Karen A. Goltz

“Being Made Whole” Thanksgiving Sunday October 8, 2017 Luke 17:11-19 Trillium United Church Caledon

On his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us! When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” As they went, they were cleansed. One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice.  He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?  Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

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Of all the seasons of the year, I think my favourite is fall. Toronto has its beauty, in many ways – our home is close to the bluffs, and Bluffer’s Park to me is at its most stunning in the fall. Yet there is also Hockley Valley and the surrounding areas. We enjoy the most incredible colours, and on really sunny days, the fire engine reds, and canary yellows, are almost painful to the eyes in their brightness.  What a sight!

Now take that colourful picture away from your imagination and mind, and try to imagine Jesus and the disciples on a journey through a desert in eastern Palestine. All we know is that they were "on the way" through Samaria and Galilee, and they went into a village. No brilliant colors here. No white tail deer feeding nearby. Because it was desert there *might* have been a morning frost, but then the daytime temperatures would be over 40 degrees. There might have been some of that manna, the food which formed from the secretions of a desert plant. There might have been a mirage or two perhaps, because of the heat rising from the landscape.  Probably no one visible for kilometres in every direction. After weeks of travel, little conversation. Even breathing is hard. I’d bet they were as crabby as the Israelites with Moses – why are they out here? They follow an endless path that leads on into more heat, dust, and desert. 

Until on the horizon there’s a village – a few mud- baked, one-room hovels around a tiny well. The disciples think there will be a place to sleep for the night. Jesus already sees, though – no rest here. Some strange shapes appear, moving awkwardly. They are draped in rags, and as the disciples come closer, they hear the words on the air “Unclean! Unclean!!!”

Ten people, covered in rags, half their face covered, hair dirty and disheveled. Lepers. Claimed by no one, despised by everyone. They hung around the gates to the city, always making sure everyone knew who they were – leaving baskets for alms or donations, but never any contact. Outcast from their homes, their families – not even allowed to enter the temple or practice their faith. Relegated to villages with other lepers – their only real human contact.

Jewish cultural and religious law was very clear regarding lepers and leprosy. Purity law and tradition commanded these lepers never to enter regular villages – they were limited to their own; tradition demanded that they cover their face and shout to passersby "Unclean, Unclean." They were required to walk around with hair disheveled and their clothes ripped. Tradition ordered them to live outside the community.  If they somehow became well, tradition prescribed a specific cleansing ritual before they were re-admitted to the community, or to their places of worship.

Leprosy as we know it today is also called Hanson’s disease – it is tuberculosis of the body. In Jesus’ time, given that there was not the medical knowledge we have today, anything such as psoriasis, ringworm,  even acne, could also consign a person to living the life of an outcast. Humiliated, sneered at, stripped of their self-esteem, held up as examples of the results of sin. Subhuman.  Proof that God selects some people for blessing and others for destruction. A sinner, or a product of the sin of the father. Outsider. Worthless. 

Today, they’re the ones who panhandle on busy streets, the ones who are passed out on the floor of busy subway terminals, whose clothing reeks of the strong odors of urine, sweat, alcohol. Humans dying of diseases associated with AIDS; Muslims who are tarred with the same brush as fanatics. Immigrants accused of stealing jobs which curiously Canadians don’t want anyway. Can't miss lepers. They're easy to pick out. 

What would it be like never to be touched?  Never hugged?  Never play with children-- no laughing, arguing, wrestling. No kisses? No embraces. Their only ‘employment’, if you could call it that – a lifetime of begging and always at a clearly prescribed distance. 

These ten, designated unclean, knew exactly how far away they had to stand. Just within hearing distance, yelling, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" Their sound is not liturgical or rhythmic, but pathetic and hoarse as each tries to be heard above the others. How did they know about Jesus? Who told these outcasts about Jesus? How did they know this group of people was Jesus and his followers? Still, the message was predictable. They wanted alms. They needed food.  But they also begged for mercy and healing.

Now remember, all this dialogue goes on at a far enough distance that they all have to shout – so Jesus shouts back "Go show yourselves to the priests," This was also within the culture and tradition. Lepers were supposed to beg for mercy and Jesus instructed them to follow the same tradition's procedures for lepers who received cures. "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they obeyed Jesus' instructions and went in the direction of the local priest, they discovered that they were healed. Still, they kept going; picked up the pace a little. They hobble, scoot, lurch and finally break into a 30 yard dash until, out of breath, they arrive at the priest’s home to begin the cleansing ritual. They have been healed of their disease, even as they are hurrying to the priest. 

But one of them is different. First, he’s a Samaritan, a foreigner. He would have been considered unclean by the Hebrews either way. And we know nothing about him really, except that he’s a Samaritan. Jesus and the followers are on the border between Samarian and Galilee – Samaritans do have a religion, just not the same one, and they don’t observe the same purity laws. And here Im reading history and culture into a text which really doesn’t tell us much except that this man is a foreigner. He realizes that at that moment, out there in the dry dusty desert of eastern Palestine, that he's been not just cured, but also truly healed. He has been set free of religious rules which have nothing to do, in the end, with being a healthy person. He stands there looking toward the lepers as they hobble and hoop over the hill, trying to regain use of their bodies suddenly whole; then he is looking toward the man who uttered the healing words. 

It’s an incredible visual image – standing in the middle of a desert outside a leper village, watching his nine companions rush into town to find the priest, then looking back at Jesus standing with his companions. Looking one way and then the other – what’s the right thing to do?

And he jettisons the religious rules of purity and cleanliness, as he runs instead to Jesus and throws himself down – still maintaining his distance, even though he doesn’t need to any more. Though only a few feet away, he yells out years of pent-up gratitude for this miracle, and uncontrolled emotion realising what has happened to him. 

“Where are the rest?” Jesus asks. “Weren’t there ten???  Only one out of ten even bothered to come back?”  and we can hear a couple of the disciples “But Jesus, they're doing exactly what you told them to do. And now you're upset that they've done what you said?” The very ones who follow the rules and traditions are the ones of whom Jesus is critical, and the one who makes the U-turn from religious rules and tradition, Jesus praises. Only this one, a foreigner, offers full and real gratitude. The rest are already going through the ritual of cleansing which will regather them into the community – and of course that’s understandable. So their illness is cured, they can be part of community again. But what about their souls?

Which one is the true act of faith? Following tradition, or stepping away from tradition to do something else? Worship first – is it only what we do on Sunday morning? Or is it daily acts of faith? Is our Thursday coffee time, or ham supper, or pancake breakfast, or community party, or anything else – any less an act of worship and thanks? Tradition is considered the fundamental building block of society; it tells us who we are; gives us identity and shapes our values. It’s stories, experiences, beliefs, and values that have grown up over the years and form the very basis of our confessional communities. Thanksgiving is a tradition going back as far as early biblical accounts, when the Israelites offered to God the first fruits of the harvest, and gave thanks.   

The problem with the nine lepers was not that they followed their tradition. Jesus told them to obey what their tradition required. The problem was that they were so engrossed in keeping that tradition, that they missed the one most important thing, the most important day of their lives.  

What happens when we get so caught up in who the church tells us we should be, or what we should believe, or the right way to do church, that we can’t address or consider any new ways of being? The nine lepers went back to their old lives before they became ill; the one leper started on a new life.

Jesus pronounced the one leper *well*. All ten were cured; but the Greek word sozo is used here, which means, “saved.”  They were all cured, but Luke implies that this one experienced true gratitude; he looked beyond the obvious, beyond the strictures of his tradition, to the source of his good fortune. He was not only cured, but the sickness within which accompanied the physical sickness was truly healed. Ten people were cured, but one of them truly became whole.  Gratitude became an act of faith, seeing with new eyes and stretching beyond what his religious traditions told him. Thanksgiving is about gratitude. May gratitude be for us an act of faith.