BLOORDALE UNITED CHURCH SERVING TORONTO-ETOBICOKE SINCE 1958

8th SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST July 26, 2020

WE BEGIN Greeting and Call to Worship God be with you. And also with you. We worship God, who plants small seeds of faith and oversees their nurture in us. In worship we grow in faith. We worship God, who gives us hidden treasures of hope and helps us discover them. In worship we harvest hope. We worship God, who implants priceless pearls of love and enables us to share them. In worship we lift up love. We worship God in faith, hope, and love, now and always.

Prayer of Approach Gracious God, your loving Word is hidden just beneath the surface, waiting to be known in every place and time. You shimmer like a pearl in the love we experience; you flourish in the families and friendships we share; you bubble up, yeast-like and uplifting, in our midst. Gather us into the net of love which holds us as one large family with all creation. As we worship, show your Spirit, and teach us to be the love so needed to bring your reign to fulfillment, beyond all pain and tears, for we pray in the name of your chosen Son, Jesusin Christ’s name, who taught us to pray by using the words he taught us, saying: Our Father … The Lord’s Prayer

Hymn VU# 216 “Sing Praise to God” (below, attached, sung or read as poetry)

Sharing Time for All (for children/youth if present) Children are usually the smallest people in a room, which may make them scared or think that they don’t have much to offer the world. But the promise of their growth is hidden in their bodies and minds, and Jesus always took time to honour and value the children in his midst. Jesus also told parables about small things being important in nature, and how God’s world has in it hidden little things that reveal God’s love and life to us, if we have eyes to see. Here's a song to the tune “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” that relates to the Gospel reading for today that you can sing to, or with, your children. Mustard seeds are very small, growing into trees so tall. Yeast is very small as well, helping bread to rise and swell. We can be like seeds and yeast, helping love and peace increase.

Hidden treasure underground brings much joy when it is found. Special pearls are worth a lot, worth the best of all you’ve got. Love and peace are just like this, Heaven’s treasures not to miss.

Hymn VU# 226 “For the Beauty of the Earth” (below, attached, sung or read as poetry)

THE WORD OF GOD

First Reading: Genesis 29: 15-28 Jacob marries Rachel. 15 Then Laban said to Jacob, “Because you are my kinsman, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what shall your wages be?” 16 Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. 17 Leah’s eyes were lovely, and Rachel was graceful and beautiful. 18 Jacob loved Rachel; so he said, “I will serve you seven years for your younger daughter Rachel.” 19 Laban said, “It is better that I give her to you than that I should give her to any other man; stay with me.” 20 So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her. 21 Then Jacob said to Laban, “Give me my wife that I may go in to her, for my time is completed.” 22 So Laban gathered together all the people of the place, and made a feast. 23 But in the evening he took his daughter Leah and brought her to Jacob; and he went in to her. 24 (Laban gave his maid Zilpah to his daughter Leah to be her maid.) 25 When morning came, it was Leah! And Jacob said to Laban, “What is this you have done to me? Did I not serve with you for Rachel? Why then have you deceived me?” 26 Laban said, “This is not done in our country—giving the younger before the firstborn. 27 Complete the week of this one, and we will give you the other also in return for serving me another seven years.” 28 Jacob did so, and completed her week; then Laban gave him his daughter Rachel as a wife. This is the witness of Israel. Thanks be to God.

Gospel Reading: Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52 Jesus teaches in parables about the kingdom of God. 31 He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; 32 it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

33 He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” 44 “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. 45 “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; 46 on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. 47 “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; 48 when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. 49 So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous 50 and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 51 “Have you understood all this?” They answered, “Yes.” 52 And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” The Gospel of Christ. Thanks be to God.

Sermon Leaving, Finding and Being Found (below, or attached)

I suspect that many of you have a place in the world beyond your home that gives you a calm serenity and an unconquerable tranquility when you’re there. All seems right when you’re there, and all strife seems to fade into oblivion. Perhaps it’s a cottage near a lake, perhaps a small town where you spend a good portion of your summer vacation, perhaps a tucked away little bed and breakfast you’ve returned to again and again. If we feel so good when we’re there, and if we did have it in our power to stay, even in this COVID summer, my question is: why do you ever leave?

Of course it’s an unrealistic question. Of course we have an obligation to go back to the people with whom we live or work or

play or to whom we are neighbours; of course we feel a little guilty about living even a brief span of our lives in a way that is so easy and peaceful in a world where there is little ease and little peace for so many. We also know that, while we love being where the phone hardly rings and the demands upon us fall away, we also love being at home, where the phone hardly stops ringing and the demands seem to ramp up daily. Still, the question lingers: why do we ever leave a place where contentment and an easy joy and as pure a peace as we’ll ever know wraps us round like a warm blanket?

We all know that life is movement, and always will be. We leave one kind of time for another kind of time, one place for another place, one job, one circle, one set of friends, for the next, and then on to the next after that, and so on until we finally come to the end of our time and the last of our places. Whether the things that we leave are pleasant or unpleasant, peaceful or anxious, we never stop leaving them for other things. The innocent question is still one of the most searching ones we can ask, as all our valid “becauses” never seem to drown out the persistent “why?” Why have we all left to come to wherever we are now?

Whether we’ve ever thought about such things in this way before or not, I believe the deep and often unconscious motive behind all our comings and goings is that we want to and hope to become truly human beings. No matter if the education we’ve received, or the good partners or friends we’ve found, or the good jobs we’ve had, if we are not somehow in a place where we can become more and more of what it means to be truly human, then it’s the wrong place because without this the rest is only busyness. And if the church is not a place where we not only learn something about what it means to be human but also a place and community where the seeds of a fuller humanity are planted in us and watered, then all our hymns and prayers and preaching is vanity.

Naturally, then, we also ask: What does it mean to be a human being? In a novel by Graham Greene called The Power and the Glory, the hero, or anti-hero, is a seedy, alcoholic Catholic priest

who after months as a fugitive is finally caught by the revolutionary Mexican government and condemned to be shot. On the evening before his execution, he sits in his cell and thinks back over what seems to him the dingy failure of his life. “Tears poured down his face,” Green writes. “He was not at the moment afraid of damnation – even the fear of pain was in the background. He felt only an immense disappointment because he had to go to God empty-handed, with nothing done at all. It seemed to him at that moment that it would have been quite easy to be a saint. It would only have needed a little self-restraint, and a little courage. He felt like someone who has missed happiness by seconds at an appointed place. He knew now that at the end there was only one thing that counted – to be a saint.”

So what is the ultimate motive that underlies the unending movement of our lives? To become human beings, which is the same as to become a saint as Graham Greene suggests. To be a saint is one and the same as to be fully human because we were born in this world as a creation of God to fulfill our true humanity. To be such a human being is to live with courage and self-restraint, as the alcoholic priest said, but it is more than just that. It is to live not with the hands clenched to grasp, to strike, to hold tight to a life that is always slipping away the more tightly we hold it; but it is to live with open hands stretched out both to give and to receive with gladness. It’s to work and weep for the broken and suffering of the world, but it’s also to be strangely light of heart in the knowledge that there is something greater than the world, a holy Mystery at the heart of our existence, that mends and renews.

Maybe more than anything else, to be a fully human being is to know joy. Not happiness, that comes and goes with the moments that occasion it, but joy that is always there like an underground spring no matter how long or terrible the night. To be a fully human being is to be a little out of one’s mind, to be ecstatic in the sense that the saints were thought to be a little crazy at times. It’s to live a life that is always giving itself away and yet is always strangely full. Beneath all of our yearning for whatever

glitters brightest in the world lies our yearning for this kind of life, a life simply right in front of us no matter where we are or where we move to.

The question becomes, then: how do we find this life? How do we get to where we can live it, not laboriously or self-consciously or out of a sense of duty or obligation, since there would then be little joy in it, but live it naturally and spontaneously the way the grass grows, the natural world impossible to quarantine and this kind of life impossible to stifle? Another way of asking it is: how do we find the kingdom of God, or, as Matthew always said, the kingdom of heaven? Jesus stories give us consistent clues, his parables even uniquely helping to usher us to the place where the kingdom of heaven is real. There is the merchant who spends his life searching for fine pearls until finally he comes across one of such splendour that he sells all the rest to buy it. There is the man who is walking through a field somewhere when, to his amazement, he discovers a great treasure buried there and then, “in his joy,” Jesus says, sells all that he has to buy that field.

Almost always when Jesus speaks of the kingdom of heaven, there is this note of joy running through his words and with it this note of surprise: it is so much more wonderful and within reach than anyone could have dared hope or dream. And there is the sense, too, that once we have glimpsed this kingdom, tasted this life, we understand that nothing else matters, that all else pales in comparison to this, those other things losing the status that makes them worthy of hording. There is only one thing that really counts, the alcoholic priest says to himself; there is only one thing that, near his end and therefore too late for him, gives the movement of our lives its meaning: to be a saint, to be fully human, to enter the kingdom of heaven, as Jesus calls it.

It's a strange and unexpected idea that this is our real purpose in the world. God knows we all settle for less all the time – money, power, a good job, brief respites of contentment in our favourite places – but all these things are only hints and imitations of pearls, not quite the pearl for which the heart truly longs. And

it’s hard to know how to find it exactly, beyond the daily large doses of courage and self-restraint we’re given to obtain. But this we can know and trust: that however blindly we are seeking the kingdom of heaven, and in every place, new or remembered, we’ve ever been, or are even now, it is also seeking us. Friends, if it is our secret purpose to become fully human, it is God’s unsecret purpose to make us, by grace, fully human, to set free even the likes of us to live the way of God’s reign.

God in Christ plants the mustard seed, no bigger than the head of a pin at first. It may come with a face that we see, a glimpse of dawn at just the right light, a dream that once we wake up we can never quite remember or quite forget, or countless other moments. God’s world is ablaze with hints, and God only knows how in each of us the seed will be planted. Then, for each of us, there is a lifetime to nurture its growth, or stifle its growing – to grow as humans, to become, for we Christians, full and faithful followers of the Christ, or to kill the new life that struggles in us to be born. Deep in our hearts, by God’s grace, I do believe that we not only can but will, in the end, help the seed of the kingdom grow in ourselves and each other until finally in all of us it becomes a tree where the birds of the air can come and make their nests in our branches. The key, of course, is not to struggle so much to find God, but to let ourselves be found, as the song I recorded this week says. That’s all that really matters, or ever will matter, since we take nothing but our humanity, full or not, with us when we leave this saint-making world for the last place we’ll all end up in when all is said and done. Amen.

Hymn MV# 154 “Deep In Our Hearts" (below, attached, sung or read as poetry)

RESPONSE TO THE WORD Living Stewardship (consider your gifts to support the church’s vision and mission) Song “To Let Ourselves Be Found” by Kyle Matthews (recorded by Brian and on a sound file in attachments)

Prayers of the People O God of every now, we pause in this moment to praise you for every moment of our lives. We praise you for the glorious moments: bread daily broken with family or friends, the intimacy of love, morning

refreshment after a summer sleep, a rooted word of grace, rapturous songs that renew and inspire, a circle of faith at a distance from one another but newly enlarged by faith. We thank you for the shared moments: honest exchange of ideas, deepened trust, troubles faced together, the release of tears and easing of fears, the mutual embrace of your mystery. We praise you for the surprising moments: the wink of a stranger, the flutter of hope in stillness, the enchantment of a rainbow, the sudden swell of selfless goodness above the flurry of things, affirmation in the midst of a dull day, a light in the soul’s long night. We praise you for the holy moments: all bearings of love, truth, mercy, meaning, and amazement, all that nudges us beyond the norms to new risky readiness in faith, the calm breathing or fierce firing of your heard Word. O God, we praise you for every moment, for you are the Source and Sum of each moment, and present in all moments, always, in all ways. We are strange mixtures of faithfulness and fearfulness, holy One. In our better moments we cleave to you and count on you, and then catch ourselves at other times as those who are contrary, cleaving to greed or gain or self alone. We give thanks that you yearn for and come to us in Christ, that you wait with persistent patience for us to lay our doubts at your feet, that our connection with you is always by your Spirit’s prior grace overcoming our pride. We give you thanks that your faithfulness is so much more durable than ours, Weaver of wonders both great and small. This day we remember many things before you, including our

spinning homeland, this fragile blue-green earth hurtling on through space, this living place which we so casually assault yet on which we so totally depend. We remember with abiding astonishment our brief breathing time here, people of every religion and none, the steady surf of your centuries in our ears, O God. We remember all those who breathe with us, whose future is our own, our children and the children of others in war torn lands or poverty-ravaged villages, fathers and mothers and their children awaiting help and hope in refugee camps the world around. We remember those in the great circle of the human family who are hurt or depressed or bewildered, who wrestle with an unclear future – the overfed, the unemployed, the suicidal, alienated youth who know no welcoming place or people, those whose needs, due to no fault of their own, such as the sick or sad, uncover the vulnerability of us all. We remember the nearer and wider circles of the church – the secret hopes and hidden wounds of every heart, those who belong to each, those who are away or on the way, all whose health stumbles, whose choices dwindle and who, with quiet courage, prepare for the worst while hoping for the best. (add intercessions here …) We remember now, most of all, O God, that you shine still and surround us and this cosmos of your claiming with a warmth that enlivens. Bless us all, to the calming of our souls, the unburdening of our doubts, the warming of your world, and the glory of your name, as we speak the words Christ taught us to offer you with one voice, saying together: Our Father …

WE CLOSE Hymn “To What Can the Kingdom” (Tune: To God Be the Glory) (below, attached, sung or read as poetry)

To what can the kingdom of God be compared? A mustard seed falls where a field’s been prepared, And there, where predictable plantings should be, There grows up a wild bush – as big as a tree! God of love, here on earth, hidden things still surprise; Loving deeds … signs of birth … faithful, Spirit-filled lives.

Your reign is amazing, your ways still astound, Just like that new life springing forth from the ground.

A small bit of leaven will change the whole bread: A poor woman sees that her neighbors are fed, A church reaches out to the youth in the town, A man shares his faith and God’s blessings abound. God of love, here on earth, hidden things still surprise: Loving deeds … signs of birth … faithful, Spirit-filled lives. Your reign is among us, creation is blessed, When even a few faithful lives change the rest.

While some look for treasure or one priceless pearl, God’s reign is the gift wise ones seek in this world. A girl sells possessions to help those in need; A boy chooses faithfulness rather than greed. God of love, here on earth, hidden things still surprise: Loving deeds … signs of birth … faithful, Spirit-filled lives. Your reign is a treasure that wise ones pursue; May we seek your kingdom in all that we do.

Blessing Go now to find the Word-seeds of heaven hidden in your daily life, and may the grace and peace of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver, be with you all, now and forever. Amen.

************************************************* Announcements The Summer Worship Schedule has Bloordale responsible for July 26, Aug. 2 & 9, and finally St. James for Aug. 16, 23, 30.

Next Sunday, Aug.2nd, the clergy of the Etobicoke 427 Ministerial are sharing leadership for a common ecumenical service for all our churches. There will be a youtube link shared late next week for you to access the service online. Here are the readings for next week to aid worship preparation. Aug. 2nd: Genesis 32: 22-31; Romans 9: 1-5.

Congregational Zoom Call Wednesday Aug. 5th at 4:30 pm Friends, we’re going to provide a zoom link in next week’s note

to participate in our third Congregational Connections call on Wednesday Aug. 5th at 4:30 pm. It will be possible to take part on your phone, and the number to call will also be shared next Friday. So plan on joining us then so that we can reconnect as a Circle of Friends!

Kairos Human Rights for Women Petition Launched Forced labor, torture, rape, and the contamination of water sources are just some of the claims made against Canadian extractive companies around the globe by Indigenous and rural communities, including women who endure and highlight the gendered impacts of resource extraction. Even so, Canadian companies are rarely held accountable for wrongdoing; this is unacceptable. The Canadian Network on Corporate Accountability (CNCA), of which KAIROS is a member, launched an e-petition to the House of Commons earlier this summer, urging the government to ensure that the Canadian mining, energy, and garment sectors operating abroad uphold human rights and rules for businesses. The e-petition closes on September 1, and the CNCA needs your help to reach 4,000 signatures. Call upon the House of Commons to take concrete measures to strengthen the rules for businesses and uphold human rights in the Canadian extractive, energy, and garment with operations abroad. Sign the e-petition, remember to validate the confirmation e-mail (otherwise the signature doesn't count), and encourage others to do the same: https://bit.ly/EmpowerANDEnact

Sound File for Service July 26th from Brian After the hymn following the sermon, have a listen to the sound file of a Kyle Matthews song “To Let Ourselves Be Found” which compliments the message for Sunday. Brian recorded his voice over the original, and the words are as follows:

To Let Ourselves Be Found Love is searching high and low and all the world a-round, calling every name it knows, it comes to seek us out. Ever nearer, ever clearer, can’t you hear the sound? What has made us so afraid to let ourselves be found? Deep inside we can’t deny our longing to be known. And in Christ a passion thrives to make our hearts his home. But this door cannot be forced, his will by love is bound ‘til the day we find the grace to let ourselves be found. Searching always, Love will not give up Searching always for us. In the coolness of the day, again the voice we hear. But look how far we’ve missed the mark We hide ourselves in fear. Still the love pursuing us is patient and profound and mercy runs to meet the one who let ourselves be found. Every other love we seek will never satisfy like this one who comes for us and offer up his life. What could be a prize so sweet that heaven would come down? Just that we might be set free to let ourselves be found.