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With the Landen Vieira Quartet coming our way (here's the poster), we thought we'd share a little taste of their music. Enjoy!
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This past summer, our archivist Tammy made some time to visit (and help catalogue) some of the history we've entrusted to the diocesan archive. You can see a bit of what happened here.  This past Sunday we celebrated "The Reign of Christ." We asked questions about the Kingdom of God, and read stories about Jesus being condemned by a Roman governor. There is quite a lot to say about that, and you can read some of right here.... What is the kingdom of God like? Most of our language is kind of vague ad points down the road a bit. It’s the thing we wait for. The Kingdom of God is the place where our hope rests. We may not see it now, but the Kingdom of God–the place where God reigns—is coming. And, for those who trust in Jesus, it’s is already partially here. You can’t see it with your eyes or hear it with your ears, but it is still here and when it acts, the earth responds. Jesus told a lot of parables to teach his disciples about the Kingdom of God. He would say, “The Kingdom of God is like a planter who went out to plant seeds,” or “the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed,” Or, “the Kingdom of God is like a wedding feast.” None of those really capture what’s happening in our Gospel reading for today, so I thought I would make up my parable, and I’ll ask your forgiveness. Here goes. The Kingdom of God is a like a song. Those who hear it dance to its strange and wonderful strains. They respond to its ebbs and flows and dance the most magnificent of dances. But there are those who cannot hear God’s song. They only see the strangeness of the dancers’ movements. To them, there is no rhyme or reason, there is only the twisting and twirling about of a strange people. This is exactly what it’s like to belong to the Kingdom of God. From the outside, our prayers seem to disappear into an empty heaven. But they are received in the great unseen court of God our saviour, and we are moved by Christ our King. It’s much easier to trust the things we see. Pilates kingdom was just like that. He lorded over his territory with brutal efficiency. Fall out of line with Pilate and you would find yourself hung on a wooden cross. In Pilate’s eyes, Jesus and the Christians were playing a silly game, waving their arms at an empty heaven. He could not understand why they paid with their lives for an imaginary kingdom. His kingdom was real, his crosses were waiting. So why did the early Christians turn their backs on the peace and prosperity of Rome? Why, when threatened with their lives, did they wave their arms at an unseen king, to sing the song of a crucified lord? They saw what was hidden, they met the alpha and omega, the firstborn from the dead, the one who was and is and is to come and they knew that none of Pilates legions and crosses could stop God from saving them. Hope in God’s kingdom meant eternal life, even in the face of death on a cross. Its had meant that for Jesus, and they saw him alive, they ate and drank with him, and they longed for the kingdom he promised. In our Gospel today, Jesus the eternal king met Pilate the Roman governor. Pilate, was asking Jesus questions about his Kingdom,. But, like the one who cannot understand the dance because he cannot hear the music, Pilate was confused by Jesus’ answers. My Kingdom is Not of this world, Jesus said. If my kingdom were of this world my followers would fight to keep me from being handed over. Pilate could not see Jesus’ kingdom. And there were no fighting followers. So Pilate handed Jesus over to be crucified. From Pilate’s point of view, the whole exercise was silly. There sat Jesus; Alone, friendless, bloodied and beaten. Why babble on about a Kingdom that can’t be seen? What good is an imaginary Kingdom? But Jesus’ Kingdom isn’t imaginary, t’s just unrecognizable to those who don’t need or want it. In God’s Kingdom, we stand together when our differences should tear us apart. We wrestle with loss and grief, trusting in the God who has promised eternal life. We trust that God has called us to worship here, to serve our community in his name, when by all appearances we have little to offer, and less to rely on. We aren’t rich, we aren’t young, we aren’t always strong, but we trust the God of creation, the God of forgiveness, the God who sends us out in his name, the God who prepares a way, the God of eternal life. A little while ago, I found myself singing a hymn. It goes like this: Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care? Precious Saviour, still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer. Soon, singing led to praying, and praying led to peace. Because I do not know every answer, I cannot see what comes next, the way through is often invisible to my far sighted and astigmatic eyes. But God sees, God knows, God was there at creation, God will be there at my death, and God will raise us again to life in the resurrection. There is nothing more sure than God, and nothing more safe than prayer. And that’s why we celebrate that Christ is King art credit: "What is truth? Christ and Pilate" ("Что есть истина?". Христос и Пилат) by Nikolai Ge (1831-1894). Public Domain.
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ABOUT the GFDThe Good Faith Despatches are a collection of news, sermons, music, poetry, and other miscellany coming from or in the service of the people of St. George's, Goderich. There's nothing formal, here, so look around and enjoy. Archives
November 2025
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