The Nexus Podcast: Recent Episodes
Brad Watson
Well, friends, just like that, we have arrived at our season finale.
For our final Sunday together before the summer, I want to close
with a question worth carrying over the next few months. When
was the last time you experienced God? Not just thought about
God, agreed with an idea about God, or heard someone else
speak about God. I mean, sensed God’s nearness in some real
way.
I think for many of us, the experiential side of faith can feel
complicated. We may be open to the Holy Spirit in theory, but
many of us are not exactly charismatic in practice. And so, we
may not have dramatic stories of wind, fire, prophecy, or tongues,
but I imagine many of us still long to know that God is near.
So, for this final Sunday, I am working off a hunch, and it is
this: the experience of God is more common than we realize, but
quieter than we expect. To explore that, I want to showcase five of
the quieter windows through which the presence of God may
become known to us. And with that, I can’t help but wonder if the
invitation for us this summer is simply to open the windows, make
room, and pay attention. Because sometimes, when the window
is open, the wind comes.
This Sunday we’re doing something a little different:
Into the Looking Glass: Anthropology
Over the past several months, our Anthropology series has sparked conversations, questions, disagreements, insights, and more than a few stories. It’s been one of those series that seems to have stayed with people.
So rather than simply moving on, we’re taking one last look.
Join me (Sarah) as I walk us back through the series and revisit some of its biggest ideas: What are human beings really like? Are we limited, conflicted, and self-centred? What happens when anthropology meets relationships, politics, and faith? And what might grace have to do with all of it?
The best part: along the way, we'll hear reflections from a number of Nexus folks whose own stories, questions, and experiences were stirred up by the series. Some agreed. Some pushed back. Some found language for things they’d been wrestling with for years.
Whether you heard every sermon, missed a few, or are joining us for the first time, we think you'll find something worth reflecting on.
Well folks, the end of our season is fast approaching, and so this Sunday represents a sort of epilogue to our anthropology series. Instead of bringing another teaching or abstract idea, I simply want to tell you a story that forces us to ask one of the oldest and most uncomfortable questions there is: what are human beings, really?
I want to tell you the devastating story behind one of J.M.W. Turner’s most haunting paintings. By it, we will look at how easily people can be reduced to labels, categories, or even cargo, and why the Jesus Path claim that every person bears the image of God is far more disruptive than we often realize. This will be a heavier morning, but not a hopeless one. So, as I close my part in this series, we’ll ask what it means to be people who can honestly look in the mirror while still trusting that the first word over humanity is image, and the final word is grace.
n her well-known poem, “Wild Geese”, Mary Oliver says:
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
While we might be more familiar with the image of the Holy Spirit coming as a Dove, offering comfort and guidance, the Spirit can also be experienced as Celtic Christians describe - as a Wild Goose, startling us out of our comfort zones. Which image do you lean towards? If you’re not sure, consider how obvious things need to be to get your attention. Whether it’s in the world around you (like a literal sign, dishes to be done, someone needing help) or in your internal world (blind spots and motivations), how “loud” do things need to get for you to notice them? Do you need flashing lights on a billboard, or just a little nudge? And…is there a difference between what you want and what you need?
This Sunday is Pentecost on the church calendar when the church remembers the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the disciples huddled in an upper room in Jerusalem. Some wild things happened that day, things that both disrupted and comforted, empowered and calmed those who were present. They were met in ways they had never been met before.
We’ll take some time to look back and dig into that story in Acts 2, and make room to notice where that same Spirit might be at work in our lives even now. We’ll pick up where I left off last time, remembering our beginnings in Genesis 1 & 2 - Original Blessing - and see how that beginning informs our pneumatology - our understanding of the Holy Spirit (pneuma in Greek).
Well friends, this Sunday marks the final week of our anthropology series, and we’ll be wrapping it up by asking what happens when anthropology meets faith? Throughout this series, we’ve explored what it means to be human: limited, conflicted, self-centered, and deeply in need of mercy. But this final week brings that conversation into the life of faith itself. What if the goal of the Jesus Path is not to become the kind of person who needs less grace, but to become someone less afraid of needing grace in the first place?
As we close the series, we’ll return to Jesus’ invitation, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,” as a final way of reminding ourselves that the Jesus Path offers real humans incredibly good news.
When it comes to anthropology, the rubber hits the road in both relationships and politics. This week, we tackle what happens when anthropology enters the political arena.
This won’t be easy, because our politics have a way of getting into the air we breathe. It shapes the news we consume, the conversations we avoid, the assumptions we make, and sometimes even the way we see the people sitting across the table from us. Disagreement can start to feel less like disagreement and more like danger. Before long, politics is no longer just helping us think about justice, policy, or the common good. It starts to quietly teach us who to trust, who to fear, and who to dismiss.
This Sunday, we continue our series by asking what the Jesus Path might offer in a polarized age. What happens when politics begins to function like a salvation story? What happens when our convictions become a ladder that lifts us above our neighbours? And what might it look like for a church to tell the truth, seek justice, confess its own limits, and still refuse to let contempt have the final word?
This Sunday at Nexus, we continue our series on anthropology by asking what may be the most practical question of all: what do we expect from the people we love? Anthropology can sound abstract until you are married to someone, raising kids with someone, building friendships, joining a church community, or assembling a gazebo with your spouse and discovering that “marital harmony” apparently has a Rona assembly fee.
Much of relational life happens not only in what people do in relationships, but in the story we tell ourselves about why they did it. When people disappoint us, forget things, get defensive, act strangely, or fail to become the people we hoped they would be, what story do we tell? This week we will explore how a low anthropology may not make love less possible, but more honest, more merciful, and perhaps more able to carry the ordinary weight of real human relationships.
Friends, this Sunday we keep moving through our anthropology series by asking a deceptively simple question: what if the "self" is not something to be found, but something to be formed?
As we start to explore the real-world implications of the anthropology we hold, I want to explore the tension between cultural aphorisms like “be yourself” and “you do you” with Jesus’ words “deny yourself.” Can you be yourself, or do you, while denying yourself? There is a tension here between the modern quest for authenticity and the strangely different path Jesus offers.
So, our anthropology journey continues with a look at the "self" and why it may be less coherent and stable than we often assume, and why that might actually be good news!
Along the way I want to explore the story of Peter denying Jesus, his dinner invitation to Zacchaeus, and why the movie Downhill (starring Will Ferrell and Julia Louis-Dreyfus) might offer us a clue as to why performing the "self" can come to feel less like freedom, and more like a burden. So, this Sunday, we’ll consider the possibility that grace begins not when you finally find your truest self, but when you discover something better.
Where we begin makes a big difference to our journey and to our future. We don’t pick up a book and begin at Chapter 3. Why would we do that with Scripture? The Bible begins the human story in beauty and goodness, but so often, our theology and the stories we tell ourselves tend to begin with our brokenness. We overindex on the negative. (Don’t mean to brag, but I am quite skilled at snatching defeat from the jaws of victory...like everything went well, but I will find something to berate myself for, just in case I get any ideas...)
A negative theological starting point and focus impacts us in a wide variety of ways…imagine you receive an invitation to the world's greatest art gallery. You enter expectantly, but instead of being invited to take in the masterpieces, someone hands you a bucket of soap and a scrub brush and barks at you to start cleaning the floor tiles, saying you should be thankful to even be allowed inside. The orders meet your inner sense of shame and unworthiness, so you hit the floor and get to work.
An unlikely scenario maybe, but many of us go through life as a cleaning crew, focused on the floor instead of the art.
In a similar vein, there’s an old story about a giant clay Buddha statue in Thailand which was being moved. At some point during the move, it cracked. As the monks gazed in horror at the cracks, someone looked more closely. They saw something shining underneath the clay. Chipping away the mud, they discovered the clay had been covering a statue made of fine gold. Instead of enjoying and valuing the treasure we hold, cultivating the goodness we do find inside, many of us spend our lives trying to fix the cracks in our clay. What if we stopped trying to patch the mud and began to notice the gold - there since the very beginning?
This Sunday, let’s continue the journey, exploring the highs and lows of our anthropology, considering what happens when we start with beauty. We certainly cannot deny that we are cracked. But what happens when we consider that perhaps our cracks don’t just let the light in, they let it out?
Well, with Lent and Easter now behind us, we’re returning to our Anthropology series this Sunday after a six-week pause. I want to pick the series up again with one of the biggest questions beneath so much of life: what are human beings really like? What does it mean to be human, not just in theory or only when we are at our best, but in the ordinary realities of conflict, relationships, stress, hope, and the strange ways we make sense of ourselves.
This week, we move into a very revealing part of that conversation as we look at the third pillar of a low anthropology. To do that, we will need to talk about sport parents, why psychologists have identified 188 “biases” or “fallacies” humans are prone to fall into, and to my delight, Glenn Pascoe will also showcase for us an all too familiar flaw in ourselves. In the end though, I hope there may something unexpectedly clarifying, and even freeing, about telling the truth about ourselves a little more honestly.
On Easter Sunday, we gather again to step into a very different kind of morning. If Good Friday asks us to stay with what feels lost, Easter invites us to consider what we might be missing even when it is right in front of us. With poetry, song, Scripture, and reflection, we will move into a story where recognition comes slowly, hope arrives strangely, and the world may be more alive than we first imagined.
This Good Friday, we will make space for the weight of the story without rushing past it. Through Scripture, music, art, and reflection, we will linger with the cross as a place of sorrow, honesty, and difficult love. This is a service for anyone who knows that not everything can be fixed quickly, explained neatly, or tied up by the end.
Friends, we are about to enter Holy Week, and so, as we do, we’re turning to one of the most surprising exchanges at the cross. It is the dialogue between Jesus and two criminals also being executed beside him. I want to pair this moment with Andrea Mantegna’s painting Crucifixion (Louvre). There is something incredibly vivid, to me, about this painting. It kind of draws you into the scene as a spectator. If you have a chance to look at it before Sunday, which of the two criminals do you think is the “good thief?”
Of course, the teaching this week isn’t really about who deserves what. Rather, it’s about what people reach for when they’re almost out of time: the things we ask for, what we bargain for, what we fear most, and what we hope might still be possible. It’s about the strange ache behind the words remember me, and the startling way Jesus answers.
Have you ever been left behind? I have been - at church, no less. And I must confess…I have also left a child at church. While I was probably 16 years old when it happened to me, our daughter was but 18 months. I know. Not a stellar parenting moment. But it’s surprisingly easy - it always involves two cars, and the abandoned person somehow falling between the cracks. A simple miscommunication and misunderstanding. (It turned out just fine, by the way, thanks to a good friend who had our phone number, some time, and patience. Well, that and the fact that the instant we both got home we realized something was awry…both of us wide eyed…I thought you had her!)
I’m sure we’ve all experienced a whole range of abandonments…times of feeling forsaken. Alone.
What was it like for you?
On this second last Sunday before Good Friday and Easter, we continue with the sayings of Jesus from the cross. This time, a heart-wrenching question: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”
Known as the Cry of Dereliction, this saying is full of meaning.
We might have some curiosity about this cry of Jesus. It’s a chance for us to consider what we believe was happening in that moment…where was God? What does it mean for us that Jesus spoke these words? As we listen to Jesus’ cry, we may also notice a tension, some mystery, and some hope for us all.
As with all the Lent sermons, we’ll be looking at an art piece - this time, a recent work from a controversial Canadian artist.
The Dry Place, from March 15th is avaialble by podcast: This Sunday in our Lent series, we’re going to focus on Jesus’ shortest, and easiest to skip, saying from the cross. In John, Jesus simply utters, “I thirst.” It isn’t a speech or sermon. It isn’t a lesson. It is two simple words that speak volumes and asks us to lean in close rather than hurry past them. In those two words are I think both a revelation and a vocation for us.
We will also be gazing at a striking crucifixion painting from the Louvre. It comes to us from the Renaissance period and was created by Niccolò di Liberatore’s in 1492. It is simply called, La Crucifixion. Peek at it before Sunday if you like. I am hoping its details will do what art does best: not explain but evoke. There’s a visual tension in the scene. See if you can spot it.
This Sunday in our Lent series, we’ll be sitting with more of Jesus’ words from the cross. This one is less divine revelation and more communal and tender in nature. And I want to come to Jesus’ words as with one piece of art held up long enough for it to actually do something to us. We’ll be gazing at La Crucifixion (a stark, monochrome crucifixion plaque), and letting it orient our attention into the mood of this moment on the cross. Along the way, I think there is plenty to consider especially around loss and grief.
Lent is now upon us, and for the weeks leading up to Easter at Nexus we’re slowing the pace down on purpose. Each week we’ll take just one of Jesus’ sayings from the cross and we’ll keep a single piece of art in front of us as a visual companion.
This Sunday’s artwork is Karel Dujardin’s: The Calvar (1661): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Duajrdin-Calvaire-Louvre.jpg
a dark, storm-charged scene where the world feels loud and chaotic...and yet Christ is strangely illuminated, impossible to ignore.
And the saying we’ll sit with is as disarming as it is unsettling: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” That line cracks open a revelation about what God is like, but it also exposes something about us. It confronts our revenge impulse, our certainty, and the way communities can get carried along by fear and scapegoating.
We’ll also look at a modern echo of this prayer through the story of one church, with a long history, where forgiveness showed up, not as sentiment, but as a costly refusal to let evil move in.
For us, the question won’t just be “Does God forgive?” but something more personal and a little dangerous. Can we become the kind of people who interrupt the cycle? Can we become people who tell the truth, hold boundaries, pursue justice, and still refuse to be remade into enemies?
Have you ever had a day, or week, where you sincerely wanted the good, and then things still unfolded opposite of all your good intentions? The invitation this Sunday is to take that strange, universal experience seriously, not as a quirky personality glitch, but as a window into what it means to be human. We’re exploring The Conflicted Self this Sunday.
We’ll hear one of the most uncomfortably honest passages in the Bible where Paul admits, in essence, “I know what’s right . . . and then I don’t do it.” And we’ll talk about why “just try harder” so often backfires and why internal laws have a funny way of creating rebellions within us.
If you’ve ever felt frustrated with yourself, or oddly harsh toward other people, this is a sermon that aims to make room for honesty and compassion. Not to excuse our mess, but to understand it, and to discover why grace meets us right in the middle of our dividedness, instead of waiting for us to get ourselves together first.
For today's sermon, we’re going to have fun with metaphors - we’ll return to the garden image, connecting that to Paul’s biblical image of the body.
All of this is to explore the lens we use to look at the world. Consider - how much do you notice your thoughts…and how critical would you say they are? Do you have a strong inner critic? Or would you be more of a finger-pointer? Maybe like me, you’re good at both! (We don’t want to brag, I know.) If you’d like to get a sense of your self-compassion (or lack thereof), there’s a handy little test you can take - the work of Kristin Neff. I found it quite sobering and eye-opening to see how committed I’ve been to this strategy of criticism. I wonder if it’s time to put down this tool, and reach for something much stronger. In times like this, we can’t be wasting our time trying to be something we’re not. Trying to force our loved ones to be something they are not. Let’s assume we’ve had a good reason for using our old tools, but let’s also consider that there might be a better way. Looking forward to seeing you for “Judge Not!”
Friends, what do FBI hostage negotiators have in common with Instagram, Netflix, and Spotify/Apple algorithms? Well, uncomfortably, they may know us better than we know ourselves. Which tells us something important about human nature.
This Sunday, we’re continuing our Anthropology series by poking at a story many of us are quietly living inside: the idea that with the right hacks, tools, and techniques, we should be able to optimize our way out of our weaknesses and limitations. So, we’ll talk about predictability, partial sight, regret, exhaustion, and why some of the most ordinary moments of modern life can be surprisingly revealing.
Along the way, we’ll explore why Jesus seems remarkably unbothered by blurry vision, why limitation isn’t a moral failure, and why faith might have less to do with clarity and more to do with humility, community, and grace. If you’ve ever felt pressure to be more, know more, or see more clearly than you actually do (and I am assuming that is all of us), this Sunday is for you.
This week in our Narratology series: what do Cinderella’s slipper, Rocky’s gloves, and Harry Potter’s cupboard under the stairs all have in common? They’re reminders that the greatest stories don’t begin with crowns and castles but with ashes, obscurity, and a touch of ordinary. The “Rags to Riches” storyline has enchanted us for centuries—not because it promises wealth, but because it whispers that hidden lives can be holy ground, and that small beginnings might just be the birthplace of transformation.
This Sunday at Nexus, we are going to lean into this timeless plot line—not just in fairy tales and films, but in the Jesus story itself. From manger to resurrection, the path of Christ both fulfills and flips the “Rags to Riches” script: the way up is down, and the real riches aren’t possessions but purpose, belonging, and identity. I will hope you will join this week. Bring your curiosity and a sense of playfulness, because the storyline we’re exploring together might just turn “rags” into something far more dazzling than riches.
Well, into our Narratology series we go, and to start, we begin with Overcoming the Monster. From our earliest days, humans have told stories about monsters: the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Enuma Elish, Leviathan, Perseus and Medusa - all are ancient overcoming the monster stories.
We are no less enthralled with these stories today: from the 1975 summer blockbuster Jaws (which you should watch before Sunday), to its contemporaries like A Quiet Place, Get Out, or Jurassic Park, we still love these stories. In fact, our 16 Frames at Nexus this Sunday will test your movie knowledge. Each frame will have a quote, and you must guess the Overcoming the Monster film it comes from.
There is a reason we love these stories and why humanity has always been obsessed with monsters. They speak to something deep within us: fear of what lurks in the shadows or under the surface, along with a conviction that even when chaos threatens, courage can rise.
Scripture echoes this plot line over and over again: from David facing Goliath, Esther standing against Haman, or Jesus entering the very jaws of death itself. In each case, the monster is not ignored, but confronted and undone. And the invitation of the Jesus Path is that this storyline is not just A story, but OUR story.
What are the monsters beneath the surface of your life—fear, shame, addiction, despair, or even the cultural forces that press in on us? This week we’ll explore how the Jesus story gives us courage not just to name them, but to resist them. Because every monster, no matter how fearsome, does not get the final word.
If I were to ask you about yourself, many of you would have little difficulty talking about your jobs, families, personalities, daily routines, Enneagram number, or likes and dislikes. But should I ask you, What’s your story?, I am inclined to think many of you might feel a little confused. I know I did the first time someone asked me that question. Is my story my biographical details? Do I have a story?
The trouble is, when our lives are without a story or plot, life can end up feeling like a string of days with no meaning. So, it is time for us to find our plot, which is exactly what the first series of our season, Narratology, was designed to help us do.
We humans are born storytellers. We shape moments into meaning by way of story. How we are shaped and formed as humans depends entirely on the stories we tell, believe, and live by. Hence, the challenge and invitation of this series is to discover how our own story might be part of something larger, something that gives coherence and purpose to who we are.
That’s where the Jesus story comes in. Scripture doesn’t present us with abstract formulas or dry facts—it tells a story. A story of creation and loss, of tragedy and rebirth, of monsters overcome and quests pursued. And here’s the hope: when the grand story of Jesus begins to weave into our own, our lives gain depth, direction, and redemption.
Do you garden? I expect we represent a spectrum from avid to reluctant gardening enthusiasts. Some of us are pressing massive zucchinis into the hands of everyone we know, and others of us were cheering on the single, solitary cherry tomato that made it through the season before the squirrel got it. We might have huge gardens, we might garden in community gardens or containers on our patio. But chances are, if we own or rent property, we have a plot of land that is technically within our care, and thus, whether or not we work that ground, we are caring for it - for better or for worse.
And if you were to design the garden of your dreams, what would it be like? Would it be vegetable heavy or more flower oriented? Would you choose hardy native plants, or tropical beauties that need to be taken inside to be shielded from the harsh Canadian winter? Maybe you prefer shrubs and grasses for steady, consistent shapes and colour. How much does your imagined garden overlap with the garden in your care?
Whether or not we work in a physical garden, we are gardeners. We have been entrusted with the care and keeping of a metaphorical garden - ourselves - our hearts and minds and bodies. These gardens are being shaped and formed by forces within us and outside of us, both chosen and bestowed upon us. As we get into the overall theme that will take us through this 16th season at Nexus, we’ll pay attention to who and what is shaping us, and how we’re being influenced. We will consider what we are becoming and why. What are we growing? How do we best cultivate our garden?
So let’s roll up our sleeves, grab a trowel, see what’s growing, and consider what we want to do about it. See you Sunday for great music, coffee and “How Does Your Garden Grow?”
For this coming Sunday, I want to start the new season by reminding us of who we are and why the mission and purpose of Nexus remain the same as always. To do that, I will need to tell you about a little pilgrimage I took this summer and about a room I unexpectedly found myself in. This Sunday is about one artist’s story and why that story still resonates with me (and I hope us) 135 years later.
Now, to the final sermon of the year, A Beautiful Thing. In a world that prizes practicality, efficiency, and utility, the story of Mary pouring a small fortune’s worth of perfume on Jesus’ head, and his strong reaction to the gesture, stands in contrast to many of our cultural values.
“She has done a beautiful thing to me,” Jesus says of the act. On this final Sunday of the season, I want to explore why beauty matters deeply in the economy of God, and how even awkward, seemingly wasteful gestures can carry the most lasting impact. This is a story not about doing what is right or efficient—but about doing what is beautiful.
So, I hope you will join us as we reflect on the fleeting nature of time, the courage it takes to act on love, and the aroma that beautiful acts leave behind.
Friends, we have arrived at the penultimate episode of our season. I am excited for these last two sermons, and I hope they might set us up well for the summer before us.
This week, my sermon is driven by this question: Is there a way to tune our minds so that they become better receivers? The question is driven by a sort of epiphany I had a few years ago. While our minds are most certainly thought generators, they may also be thought receivers. I cannot recall if it was our beloved Murray who shared this with me, or the author Dale Allison. Regardless, I am sure these ideas sound a bit confusing. Even still, if our minds are receiving (not just generating) thoughts, well, is there a way to tune into certain frequencies, while ignoring others? I am as confused as you about all of this, which is why we must embark on a most interesting journey together on Sunday.
To puzzle this out, I have an assortment of tales and reflections to bring you: from rabbit ear antennas to Muhammad Ali, the Young and the Restless to Barack Obama, Crispers to the Tom Foolery ancient shepherds performed, and the young prophet Samuel hearing a voice to the Ivanpah Solar Power Facility (which happens to fry birds in mid-flight; mind you, that has no bearing on my sermon, but I thought you might like to know). Anywho, it is quite the trail we must travel together.
Friends, I don’t have a lot of positive things to say about birds, but I will grant them this: some of their mating rituals are just hilariously fantastic (see flamingos or birds of paradise). The choreography is mesmerizing; their movements flamboyant and fun to watch. Of course, acts like these are not exclusive to birds. In the animal kingdom, from birds to elephants, rituals are found everywhere in nature.
And yet, no creature is as ritualized as we Homo sapiens. Rituals are a human universal, with ceremonial practices serving many important functions.
This Sunday, I want to take us into one of the most unique rituals of the Christian faith: baptism. Of course, back in the day, ritualistic washing or immersion rituals were present and practiced in various cultures and religions outside of Christianity. Even today, the “cold plunge” has echoes of a baptism ritual. Yet, by and large, baptism is almost an exclusively Christian ritual. Why? Why is it important? What does it mean and communicate?
Is it just me, or are lots of us more like Hobbits than is good for us? Valuing comfort, home, and a quiet life, living in our cozy hobbit-holes, eschewing adventure and exploration…nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things! Even if we don’t live like Hobbits (though that would probably be my dream), we might act like Hobbits in certain corners of our minds and hearts.
And yet, our heart needs more; we are invited out of our comfort zone to more reality, more life, more connection, more freedom…more adventure. Does that sound appealing? Adventures are exciting, but they also include confusion, danger, wrestling with big questions, and when we return - if we return - we are not the same.
Last week we faced our illusions which can get in the way of living fully and truly connecting with ourselves, others, and with God. By definition, all illusions pull us out of reality into an echo chamber of the stories we tell ourselves. The illusion of control, for instance, can cause us to cling to our comfortable and safe routines where we feel better able to control the outcome.
As we wrap up our journey through Henri Nouwen’s book Reaching Out, we’ll now explore prayer as the opposite pole to illusion. Nouwen claims that as we move toward prayer, we will move away from illusion. This may feel backward at best or simply confusing, as our experiences in life in general and with prayer in particular may have us feeling ambivalent towards prayer. When life is chaotic and God feels far or nonexistent, prayer can seem pointless and empty, maybe even deeply disappointing.
I wonder if seeing prayer as an adventure can invite us to explore prayer with fresh eyes, finding more than we thought was there at first. We may find more reality and more life.
We may find something new to go on as we explore some themes around prayer such as experiencing God’s absence, paradox and confusing messages around prayer, and we’ll get a little practical with a way of praying that’s both simple and profound as we listen for our Prayer of the Heart.
Remember that scene from the Matrix where Cypher enjoys a steak? He betrays his comrades and condemns humanity in order to be reinserted into the Matrix, to return to a false reality where he can live a life of luxury and to be "someone important, like an actor." In the scene, he delights in eating a perfectly cooked steak and wine, a stark contrast to the bland, unappetizing "goop" the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar eats in the real world. Cypher acknowledges that the steak isn't real, but he savors the sensation, stating, "I know this steak doesn't exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss."
This line encapsulates his weariness with the harsh reality of the human resistance and his desire to return to the comfortable illusion of the Matrix, even though he knows it’s not reality.
Cypher represents our very human temptation to choose comfort and illusion over harsh truth and freedom, even at the cost of betrayal. We can be more like him than we’d like to admit, tending to resist reality a lot of the time. We have whole collections of strategies against the real. We actually can be quite masterful at protecting our hearts and minds against harsh truths. We can live asleep, doom scrolling while avoiding our life, particularly if it’s uncomfortable or painful. In some ways, why wouldn’t we? We all do this, even when it doesn’t make sense. And we may be so good at it, we may not even realize we’re doing it. Nevertheless we’re invited to face the Real, and to turn to God as Ultimate Reality.
As we wrap up this mini-series walking through Henri Nouwen’s book Reaching Out, we’re exploring the movement from illusion to prayer. So this week we’ll face our illusions, see how we’re pretty fond of them, and consider what we might do instead of remaining in their grip.
For this week, I want to piggyback off last Sunday and the work we did around mapping our loneliness. As we move into the terrain of our loneliness, I want to explore whether the reason we struggle with loneliness might be because of the quiet barriers we’ve built between ourselves and true intimacy?
All of us carry a deep longing to be fully seen and still fully loved—a longing that goes all the way back to Eden. To navigate towards that, I want to draw from Jesus’ words in John 15 and invite us to reimagine intimacy not as a fleeting feeling or dramatic act of love, but as a lifelong pattern of laying ourselves down for one another in the ordinary, sometimes painfully boring, rhythms of real life.
To that end, I want to walk us through three subtle, but powerful barriers that often keep us from closeness with others: the illusion that life should always be interesting, the weight of unspoken and unrealistic expectations, and the everyday irritations of difference. If you've ever felt like your relationships — romantic, platonic, or communal — fall short of what you hoped for, I hope this message can offer us a grace-filled path forward: not to escape or idealize, but to stay, die to ego, and find new life on the other side of disappointment.
Hey friends! When we asked the Nexus community to submit cards a while back around the sufferings we face in life, 32% of the cards mentioned struggles with loneliness. For a third of us, it would seem this is a sensitive spot.
Loneliness is often treated as a personal failing or something to hide, but what if it’s actually a shared human experience? This Sunday, I want to unpack this quiet ache that so many of us carry but rarely name. Drawing on Scripture, personal stories, and cultural insights, we will explore five distinct types of loneliness—alienation, restlessness, fantasy, rootlessness, and psychological depression. Each one reveals something about who we are, what we long for, and how we were created to live in connection.
Whether you're single or married, surrounded by people or feeling unseen, I hope this message offers a gentle guide for navigating the lonely places in your life—with truth, grace, and maybe even hope.
For Easter Sunday we launch into a theological conspiracy theory and the final chapter of Pilate’s part in the Jesus Path story. Then into the meaning of resurrection itself. I hope what we find will be both challenging, but also full of hope.
After a long winter and Lenten season, Holy Week is finally here! The culmination of the Jesus Path lies in front of us via Good Friday and Easter. We will be observing both Holy Days with services at 10:30am at St. Andrew's. We hope for these services that you might enter Iona Hall quietly and contemplatively.
The cross has many meanings, but for this Good Friday, we will examine but one of those meanings. In doing so, I hope that it will bring our ‘Jesus before Pilate’ trial full circle in a meaningful way. I hope you will join us for our Good Friday journey that will take us from poetry, to song, to a Venice art museum, to the cards about suffering you filled out, to Lake Bled, to more songs and poetry, and of course, back to our old friend, Ivan Fydorovich and his case against Christ. Ultimately though, I hope it will take us to one of the most profound meanings of the cross.
In life, most decisions are routine and quickly forgotten. But sometimes, we’re faced with a choice so profound it alters the course of our lives—and maybe even echoes through history. This Sunday morning, we step into the tension of such a moment through the eyes of a man whose legacy hinges on a single verdict: Pontius Pilate. A Roman governor known for political savvy and self-preservation; Pilate didn’t set out to become infamous. But one Friday morning 2000 years ago, his desire to please the crowd outweighed his willingness to stand for truth.
As we examine Pilate’s struggle to render a verdict in Jesus’ trial, we’ll discover something deeply unsettling and strangely familiar—ourselves. The hesitation, the fear of consequence, the subtle slide into compromise—it’s a mirror for our own moments of decision. Will we do what is right, or what is easy? Listen in as we wrestle with the question Pilate could never bring himself to fully answer: What is truth?
Our trial continues this Sunday with a growing case against Christ. This week, the trial shifts its focus to Jesus' remark that his kingdom is “not of this world.” What does that mean? Is this a good thing or a bad thing? A threatening thing or nothing of concern? What might a set of opposing lawyers say to this notion of a kingdom from another world?
We will, of course, bring some imaginative elements to the trial, and work out part of these questions via a powerful parable and story. But, in short, the prosecution will argue that a kingdom not of this world, is of no use to this world, and thus, must be condemned. Alternatively, the defense will argue that to truly win the hearts and minds of humanity, Christ’s kingdom should not, and cannot, look anything like worldly kingdoms. It is the only way Jesus’ kingdom can be freely embraced.
Which side is more convincing will be up to you.
Our trial, and the case against Christ, begins in earnest this Sunday. We enter the trial scene as Pilate is interrogating Jesus. Frustrated by Jesus’ demeanor before him, a question slips from Pilate’s lips. Ann Wroe calls it a question “too strange to have been invented.” In the middle of his dialogue with Jesus, Pilate blurts out, half to himself, “what is truth?” Did he mutter it scornfully? Was his question sincere? Did Pilate ask the question pensively or impatiently? And what does truth have to do with whether Jesus is a king or not?
The quizzical thing to me is that once uttered, the question disappears, and the story simply carries on. The weight of Pilate’s question is just left hanging in the air with no response or resolution. And it is here that I want to hit the pause button and have us imaginatively enter this courtroom drama.
What if there had been dialogue about Pilate’s question? What if, in trying Jesus for being a rival king, a team of prosecutors and defense lawyers had taken up that question, each side making their respective case? What would it be like to use “truth” as part of the case against Christ?
So, into the courtroom we go. The trial team of lawyers are ready, witnesses have been called. And so, I hope you will join us this Sunday, as quasi jurists, ready to hear the case against Christ as we explore, What is Truth?
Nexus friends, for the remainder of our Lenten season, I want to bring us a little courtroom drama by having us step into the most famous trial in all history: Jesus’ trial before Pilate. To that end, I have created a harmonized account of the trial, drawing from all four gospels, which you can read here. I would recommend reading it once a week leading up to Easter. It will give you a feel for the proceedings and a glimpse into Pilate’s struggle to play the role of both judge and jury at this fateful trial.
Mind you, the snapshot we have of the trial in the gospels is rather brief. So, I hope you won’t mind if I bring some artistic liberties and a little flair for the dramatic to the trial.
That being said, trial proceedings begin this Sunday with us focusing on the man Pilate—an enigmatic figure torn between duty and conscience, power and truth. As we sit alongside Pilate, we will be confronted with the main charge against Jesus and an uncomfortable question that echoes through the ages: Is Jesus truly a King?
My hope is that with some vivid storytelling and deep reflection, we can wrestle honestly with the implications of that question. So, I hope you will join us this Sunday and through the rest of the Lenten season as we engage with this trial of all trials, and prepare for a journey that may leave us unsettled—but deeply transformed. Welcome to The Case AGAINST Christ.
Last week, as we explored reaching out to others, we owned up to our hostility, while considering how reasonable it is to be guarded or defended. It’s a natural human response in a world that is often pretty hostile, especially these days.
And, as understandable as hostility is, Jesus leads us beyond - to where that sense of otherness becomes oneness. We are called to hospitality. So we move toward our hostility with trust, compassion, and curiosity; we live aware of our common human search for connection and belonging; and we work to offer space.
This week we’ll explore what that space could look like. Is Martha Stewart our guru here, or might there be an even deeper kind of hospitality? We’ll look at scripture, hear some stories, and I’ll share some things that have made a big difference in my journey, including a cat video and a life-changing lesson learned from the most powerful Gospel Contemplation I’ve experienced to date. I hope you’ll be encouraged as we seek to create space for others in our hearts, our homes, our lives.
This week marks the beginning of our new Lent series “Look Again”. I’ll also be continuing on with my mini-series inspired by Henri Nouwen’s book Reaching Out which explores the question, “What does it mean to live a life in the Spirit of Jesus Christ?” in the context of three movements of reaching out:
- How do we relate to our innermost self? (the movement from loneliness to solitude)
- How do we relate to our fellow human beings? (the movement from hostility to hospitality)
- How do we relate to our God? (the movement from illusion to prayer)
This time, we consider our relationship with others. The life Jesus calls us to isn't lived in isolation but in community. Hostility impedes and even breaks connection, negatively affecting how we express love as we seek to serve, listen to, and care for those around us.
Hostility is easy to find “out there” these days. But what about “in here”? Can we notice how hostility shows up in our own lives and hearts? If we can, what do we do with it? How much are our regular, natural patterns and impulses aligned with Jesus’ call? Is there a sweet spot between self-justification and self-rejection?
Listen in as we face our own hostility - a starting point as we break down barriers in a way that may surprise you in order to create spaces of belonging and care.
This Sunday we come to the finale of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Jesus concludes his sermon with a series of potent images. Gates, roads, trees, fruit, fire, foundations, rocks, sand. The challenge for us is that imagery is rarely neutral. And with these images, I have a hunch more than a few of us are carrying some baggage.
So, I want to start by exploring how subtitles in the Bible (put there by translators and publishers) often serve to skew messages in the Bible and how the interpretive key to this last passage is easy to find. Then, I want to introduce you to something called the Silver Rule. I think it may help some of us get our heads around what Jesus is asking of us here.
I am excited for this Sunday. We have been in the Sermon on the Mount since September, so in wrapping things up, I hope the closure we find truly leaves us with a deeper desire to find and follow the good and flourishing life Jesus is calling us to live.
Friends, I am not sure when the good ol’ days were, but I think one could make a pretty strong case that they were between 2006 and 2016. Why those 10 years? Well, that is when Dos Equis beer was running their “Most Interesting Man in the World” ads.
I loved those ads. We were gifted lines about this most interesting man, like, “he once won a staring contest with his own reflection,” or “sharks have a week dedicated to him,” or “he can speak Russian…in French,” or “he once made a weeping willow laugh.” Those ads were delightful. But every ad ended the same way. The Most Interesting Man in the World would stare into the camera and say, “Stay Thirsty, My Friends.”
Jesus has now entered the home stretch of his Sermon on the Mount, and we come to a passage of Scripture that has flummoxed me for a long while. It is Jesus’ exhortation to ask, seek, and knock. Jesus promises that those who do will be answered, find what they are looking for, and have doors opened to them. What in the world might Jesus be getting at?
I am excited to dig into this passage with you all. To start, I want to tell you about the revelation I had this week about O.J. Simpson and black pickup trucks. Then, I want to introduce you to the Nobel Prize winner, Isidor Isaac Rabi, and the incredible reason he became a scientist. Then we will dig into the passage itself while exploring an oft missed part of Jesus’ teaching style. Finally, we will explore a most curious idea: WHAT we know may be less important than HOW we know. Oh yeah, and somehow The Most Interesting Man in the World ties into all of this.
Folks, I have been both excited and nervous about this one for months. Finally, we arrive at Jesus' teaching and instructions around how we evaluate other people. “Do not judge” is one of Jesus’ most famous lines. But is it really that simple? I mean, a few verses later Jesus seems to contradict himself with talk of some people being like dogs, pigs, wolves, or sheep. It is time to get into the weeds with this one and it promises to be interesting. What does not “judging” others really mean?
Now, I think it goes without saying that when we consider judgmental people, resident curmudgeon and wordsmith, Glenn Pascoe, immediately comes to mind. And so, to showcase the pervasive temptation we all feel to cast judgment on others, I have asked Glenn to share about the many petty judgments that occupy his mind. I am sure that will be a treat for all of us, and no doubt take some of the pressure off.
From there, we are headed to the trees! It turns out that in considering what it means to evaluate others and discern wisely in life, Scripture provides us two modes of being by way of tree metaphor. And from what I can tell, we tend to spend much of our time at the wrong tree. Also, because I tend to be foolish, I then want to apply our learning by way of one of the most controversial topics of discussion happening today: transgender debates. Pray for me!
Friends, we have a bit of a different Sunday planned. St. Andrew's is hosting a Potato Soup Lunch at 11:30am in Iona Hall. We are invited to join them. It is a fundraiser for Presbyterian World Service & Development. You can learn more about the lunch below. But this means Iona Hall will be set up with tables and chairs for our service. This should be fun and afford us an opportunity to do things a little differently for one Sunday.
We are continuing through Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and the focus of attention turns to worry. According to the American Psychological Association, around 1 in 3 adults are habitual worriers. So, what can Jesus offer us around our propensity to worry?
A few weeks ago, after my sermon on generosity, a visitor asked me if Nexus was a health and wealth gospel church. I confess, the question left me stunned and embarrassed. How horrible am I at communicating if someone walked away from Nexus thinking that? But, as luck would have it, Jesus returns to money in his Sermon on the Mount, so I have been gifted an opportunity to make it abundantly clear that Nexus is NOT a health and wealth gospel church.
You see, we have entered a new section of Jesus’ most famous sermon. It begins with talk about storing up treasures and why you can’t serve God and Mammon. I can’t wait to get into it, though, the journey will take us on an unexpected course.
So, we will begin by defining our relationship with money, before confronting the three questions no one has ever asked you. Then, we will need to talk sports app gambling, why the actor Jim Carey seems to have lost his marbles, Black Swan Events, a Dragons Den deal made on September 5, 2001, why one particular question at Chats & Chocolate seemed to stump everyone, why I feel the need to make a defense on behalf of the rich, and of course three practices for resisting the Mammon god. Phew, should be a fun, and I hope thoughtful, exploration of our relationship with money.
In this section of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has instructed us on how to pursue the flourishing life by way of properly practicing our virtues. This Sunday, Jesus gives instructions around fasting.
Now, it isn’t immediately obvious to the most casual observer how fasting contributes to spiritual formation. Which means of course, we will need to unlock this riddle by way of contemplation on the nature of dogs. So, that will be something.
But beyond the actual fasting question, there is something amidst Jesus’ instructions that is easy to miss. In terms of giving, prayer, and fasting, Jesus commends doing them all, in SECRET. Strange.
Secrets are a fascinating thing. I am going to need your help on Sunday unravelling a true mystery. When someone says to you, “I need to tell you a secret, but you can’t tell anyone,” does anyone truly mean ANYONE? Turns out, the nature of secrecy just might help us unlock a deeper layer of meaning in Jesus’ advice for finding the Good Life.
We are going to need to talk about secrets, why having a dog taught me about fasting, and, of course, why Sponge Bob SquarePants may hold the secret to secrets.
Well, this is a bit awkward after the week we have had. I didn’t plan it this way. Or maybe I did? I can’t remember now, but as we continue to pursue the flourishing life, we come to a bridge that may feel too far to pass. Jesus instructs us to “love our enemies.” Of all weeks to head there, this is the one? I am afraid so.
Mark Twain once quipped, “It ain’t the parts of the Bible that I can’t understand that bother me, it’s the parts that I do understand.” That certainly rings true for where we are headed. But this teaching isn’t meant to bother us. Rather, Jesus’ teaching is about directing us to the good life. How in the world does loving enemies lead to flourishing? Well, let’s explore that together on Sunday.
Sometimes I feel as though I have the word ‘sucker’ written on my
forehead. Kristen likes to say I am every salesperson’s dream. I
haven’t met an upgrade or extended warranty I have passed on. I
can be easily taken advantage of. Which is why Jesus’ next
teaching about the Good Life initially feels a little disconcerting to
me.
I am referring of course to the “turn the other cheek”
passage in the Sermon on the Mount. It starts with Jesus
referencing one of humanities oldest laws (the eye for eye bit) and
moves to not resisting evil people. The examples Jesus uses to
illustrate what this might look like involve getting slapped twice (at
least), finding yourself naked without any clothes, walking a lot,
and lending a lot of people money. On the surface, it sounds like a
recipe for people like me getting walked all over.
Ah, but naturally, there is whole lot more going on here. And
we are in for quite the ride. We will need to explore the earliest
human laws we have on record and why implementing those laws
still seems beyond us (think Ukraine and the Middle East). I will
need to tell you about the anxiety I experience when getting my oil
changed, my mission to stop Amazon thieves, and what to do
when an elderly couple backs into your car.
We also have plenty of stops to make within Scripture, from
what David did when he caught Saul using the bathroom, to a
question from the apostle Paul that I find to be both wise and hard
to swallow, and of course, why Jesus’ instructions here are not
only wise, but psychologically astute as well. If we can begin to
master what Jesus is getting at in this teaching, we will be well on
our way to the good and flourishing life.
The Sermon on the Mount offers us a vision of the “flourishing life.” At times, however, that means heading into uncomfortable territory, like, well, infidelity and lust. Sigh, I confess I am not overly excited to offer some thoughts about this one. So, we might as well just dive in.
In her revelatory book The State of Affairs, Esther Perel says this about infidelity. “Infidelity happens in good marriages, in bad marriages, and even when adultery is punishable by death. It happens in open relationships where extramarital sex is carefully negotiated beforehand. And the freedom to leave or divorce has not made cheating obsolete . . . Infidelity has a tenacity that marriage can only envy. So much so that it is the only sin that gets two commandments in the Bible, one for doing it and one just for thinking about it."
Ha, very true Esther. That is a great introduction to Jesus’ teaching on adultery and lust. So, I hope you will join us on Sunday as we head into some choppy waters. I trust it will be a worthwhile journey, and while the subject matter may be a bit heavy, there is still plenty of fun to be had along the way. From one of the greatest television shows of all time - LOST - to why I sense my neighbours are giving me the stink eye, I hope to explore this sensitive subject with thoughtfulness, compassion, and a touch of mirth.
Well, now that the dust has settled on our Anger Royal Rumble debate, it is time to dig into the emotion of anger. This Sunday we will explore the positives of anger, its dangers, and why we should maybe question some of the dogmas surrounding this complicated emotion. We have a lot of stops to make along the way: from my deviled egg debacle to the 18,000 angry people of Greenfield, Massachusetts, the psychological sophistication of Scripture when it comes to emotions, and of course, why being angry like Jesus is much more complex than we realize.
The intricacies of anger mean there is no "one size fits all" approach to the emotion. Given that, I want to conclude the sermon with my own personal convictions about anger, fully realizing that what may work or be "right" for me may not be so for others. I hope to see you Sunday for An Exploration of Anger.
Friends, it is time to mix things up a little this Sunday. You see, as Jesus heads into the meat of his Sermon on the Mount, first up is our inner worlds and what to do with an emotion like anger. We know, of course, that Jesus himself got angry on several occasions. And yet, here in the sermon, Jesus seems to strongly caution against being angry at all. For Jesus Path people, this can be a little confusing.
Now, there are various schools of thought around what to do with an emotion like anger. I could just describe them to you on Sunday, but that sounds a little boring. I think a better (and more fun) approach would be to just host a Royal Rumble debate on anger!
So, this Sunday morning after a brief introduction to the subject, you will be presented with six cases about anger from six very different people. Let me introduce you to our debaters. First up, we will have @AngryTwitterTina1234, followed by the Apostle Paul, then Brené Brown, Jordan Peterson, Ichiro Kishimi, and finally, the philosopher king himself, Marcus Aurelius, on behalf of the Stoics.
So, they make their case on anger, then we will discuss together which vision of anger we found most compelling. I hope this will set us up well for the weeks to come.
We continue our search for The Good Life by delving deeper into Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. This week we find Jesus making a remark that will certainly give us pause. According to Jesus, his path is only accessible to those who are more righteous than the Pharisees! That seems like cause for concern. First, isn’t the Jesus Path radically inclusive? Why the barrier to entry now? Second, and even more concerning, weren’t the Pharisees well known for being super-duper righteous? If we must surpass that, well, it sounds like trouble. Ah, something must be afoot here!
This passage, in my estimation, holds the interpretive key for all that follows in the Sermon on the Mount. So, on another journey we go: from traveling three hours only to find out your destination is closed, to Jesus' “anti-beatitudes” (his “woes” in Matthew 23), from why my dentist rubs me the wrong way, to the science of self-awareness, from the practice of hiddenness and introspection, to hosting a “Dinner of Truth,” we are off to explore why Jesus’ comments about the Pharisees might unlock the secret ingredient to living the Good Life.
Friends, after two introductory weeks, it is time to take the dive into Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. This season is all about searching for The Good Life and human flourishing. So we begin, of course, with the Beatitudes, a series of peculiar and unexpected statements about human flourishing. On the surface, the beatitudes seem to represent the very opposite of flourishing. What are we to make of them?
To mine the wisdom of these statements will require another interesting journey: from Yale’s most popular class, to why Stoics think hope is a toxic emotion, from my ongoing battle with my physiotherapist, to the social experiment Nexus has been running for 15 years, from comedian Neil Brennan’s take on his own atheism, to the devastating loss musician Nick Cave experienced and how that shaped his thinking about cynicism. Through it all, I hope to illuminate the beatitudes in a fresh way for us all.
This season is all about searching for The Good Life by way of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and other visions of human flourishing. To start our quest in earnest, we will need to make a few early pitstops. If the Good Life is to be found, who are the sages that might point us in the right direction. And where does Jesus fit into all of this?
Join us this Sunday as we head to some ancient sites in Athens and Syria before heading to the bohemian ruin bars of Budapest. Our goal is to chat with a few sages, both ancient and contemporary, living and dead, in order to orient ourselves in the proper direction.
Where does the Jesus Path have us heading this year? Well, this season will be all about searching for The Good Life. How can we experience true human flourishing? What is happiness, should we aim for it, and how does one obtain and sustain it? This season we will be exploring Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount by bringing it into conversation with wisdom on human flourishing from Stoic philosophy and other voices. I can’t wait to get started, so to prime the pump, imagine this:
Somewhere in the mountains north of Santa Fe, New Mexico, is a treasure chest filled with two million dollars worth of gold, artifacts, and other treasures. It can all be yours, if you can just find the chest. To find it, all you need to do is solve a riddle.
Would you go looking for the treasure? Where would you start looking? Can you figure out the location based on the riddle? For almost half a million people, this was no imagination exercise, but the beginning of an actual treasure hunt that began in 2010 and only finished in 2020. During the hunt, five people died, scores had to be rescued from the wild, and dozens were arrested. Turns out, if you hide something worth finding, people will search for it...relentlessly. Which is where we shall begin our new season. We are all searching for something, but what? I hope to see you Sunday @ 10:30am at our new home in St. Andrew's for Everyone is Searching.
- Brad Watson
For this Sunday, our penultimate episode of the season, I want to reflect and do a sort of “state of the union” talk about Nexus, the place of faith in our wider culture, along with where I am at with faith these days. I am bringing along my “life verse,” a few tales about eels and Sigmund Freud, precarious cliffs, and why the most pressing question for me in terms of faith these days is simply, "Jesus or . . . what?"
As our season winds down here at Nexus, we are bringing our relational tensions series to a close with a theology of conflict. If there is one thing that is certain in all relationships (be it with our friends, colleagues, partners, or parents), it is that conflict is inevitable. Conflict will occur. Then what?
There is nothing we dread more than dealing with conflict in relationships. What is worse, most of us aren’t great at it. This is because conflict forces us to battle our own worst proclivities. Further, we often come from family backgrounds that left us with unhealthy notions of conflict management. Even still, conflict can’t be avoided. To mature in life and love, we must learn the art and science of doing conflict.
So, this week we will take some cues from Jesus and Paul before turning to the proverbial wisdom of Scripture to help us learn the fine art of negotiating conflict well.
This week, as we head into our final month of Season 14, I’ll offer my last sermon for the season called, “I Don’t Know What To Do With My Self”." A common complaint of mine for various reasons, but in this case, it’s connected to setting boundaries. Inevitably, as soon as someone brings up boundaries, someone else will mention the word “selfish” (case in point: the latest episode of the Sacred Sofa).
So we’ll explore why that might be, what Jesus Path people are invited to do with our selves, and how that might influence our relationships with others. We’ll explore some of the challenges inherent in setting and maintaining boundaries, and how we might discern what kind of boundaries are needed. Along the way, we’ll examine a greatly misunderstood portion of The Sermon on the Mount which could be quite influential - for good and for ill.
This Sunday is Pentecost Sunday and that is always fun to explore because it is the event that birthed us, the church. The event is filled with intriguing details: a violent wind, tongues of fire, the Holy Spirit, foreign languages mysteriously being heard and understood, and eyewitnesses thinking Jesus followers are drunk at 9am. The story is rich in metaphor and symbolism.
What is often lost though is how this story connects with a story from Exodus. The Pentecost event happened during the Jewish holiday of Shavuot, a festival marking Israel’s wheat harvest as well as the revelation of the Ten Commandments to Moses and the Israelites at Mount Sinai. I hope the connections made between these two stories might be revelatory for us all and a source of hope.
We keep climbing ladders in this series on relational tensions. We have explored marriage and relational boundaries. Friendship and community are coming up next. But for this week, we are in search of a robust Jesus Path sexual ethic. To do that, we are going to need to put sex on a ladder. Just one more week of uncomfortable sex talk! But stay with me. Why is this important? Four quick reasons:
First, the internet. Second, many folks walked away from purity culture with a lot of baggage, so we owe it to ourselves and our children to think through all of this in a much healthier way. Third, these conversations aren’t easy to have, even in our marriages, which means conversation starters might be good. Fourth, because a whole book of the Bible is dedicated to sexual innuendo and erotic love poetry. If Scripture is willing to go there, so am I. So, let’s have some fun, even if it is a little uncomfortable.
This question was written by a Nexus person on the Sunday after Ash Wednesday as we reflected on questions of life and faith. It felt like a good question to consider together in this series on the tensions between us.
As Jesus-path people, we’re called to live cruciform - cross-shaped - which involves serious demands on our life and character, to live in the self-giving pattern of Christ. That looks like radical forgiveness, hospitality, generosity, compassion - others-centeredness…
But…must we be taken advantage of?
How can we show up in our relationships with love and compassion without being depleted and exhausted? Is there a way for our relationships to fill us up, even as we give? Could living cruciform actually somehow be life-giving?
We’ll look at surprising research on how boundaries can help us out. Some clarity around who we are (and who we aren’t) can lead to freedom. Clear “No!”s can help us say “Yes!” to people and things that are important, freeing us up to be compassionate and build relationships that are life-giving to all.
With a little history of marriage behind us, it is time to start climbing some ladders. I want to peek at three paradigms for marriage we find in Scripture. Of course, we aren’t looking for marriage tips from David, or any other Biblical character for that matter. Rather, what I hope we will discover are paradigms in Scripture that might allow us to ease the pressure in marriage, while also reenchanting it.
There is so much juicy stuff to get to, like what the eclipse this past week can teach us about marriage, why we might want to consider sex in marriage through the lens of justice, what the rabbinic wisdom of the Talmud can teach us about sex, when it is time for therapy, the tough choices in marriage, why we need a Trinitarian theology of “one flesh”, the business metaphor that defines successful marriages, and, of course, how to keep climbing the marriage ladder. And oh, I am bringing along a few choice quotes from my new favourite marriage guru, Harrison Scott Key, whose wife left him for “the human equivalent of Diet Mountain Dew.” Lines like that just bless my heart!
we are pressing on into our season of The Tensions. We have explored our tensions with God, ourselves, and our faith tradition. It is time now for us to consider relational tensions: the tensions we experience with others, be that in our marriages, friendships, or communities.
Many years ago, I did a sermon entitled Sex on a Ladder, which we will return to in the next few weeks, but for this series, I wanted to expand on that teaching by going wider, deeper, and further. So, to begin, we are going on an odyssey adventure: A Brief History of Marriage.
We have some fun and wild places to explore. History is a strange and fascinating beast, so we will start by debunking eight myths about the history of marriage (for instance, did marriage come about to protect or oppress women?). Then, we will explore why the Church was largely silent about marriage for 1200 years and the four main reasons the Church got into the business of solemnizing marriages (I am confident they will surprise you).
Along the way we will learn about the most common case brought before courts in the Middle Ages (it has to do with marriage) and the rather uncomfortable ritual men had to undergo to annul a marriage (Kristen won’t even let me share the more "juicy" details of the ritual).
We will of course land in our present day to discover the two social factors and pressures that are placing more tension on marriages today than ever before.
For Easter Sunday, well, we have something special cooking, folks. The death we see on Good Friday will have one final word (which will be a treat for the eyes and ears) before we welcome in Resurrection Sunday! I can hardly wait. Eliza and our Nexus Kids are contributing to the morning, which is always special. For my part, I want to present the meaning, promise, and hope of the resurrection in seven distinct movements. If I had my way, I would greet you all on Sunday morning with a mimosa for everyone. Alas, my hands are tied. Even still, I know this weekend will be meaningful, and a reminder of all that we can’t leave behind.
For Good Friday, we will look at the cross from a most unusual angle: aesthetically. 2000 years ago, the cross was an instrument of torture. 2000 years later it has been the subject of more artistic depictions than any other object or event in history. As one tourist to the National Gallery of Art tweeted after visiting the museum, “Well, that’s Western art for you. A thousand years of crucifixions then stripes.” I find that to be hilarious, but also telling. For centuries now, people all over the world have come to see an ancient form of torture as . . . beautiful? On Good Friday we will discover how that sentiment became possible.
Friends, we are getting close to the finale of our Revisionist History series. On Palm Sunday (March 24) I want to talk not only of Jesus' triumphal entry in Jerusalem prior to his death and resurrection, but I want to help us locate ourselves in the long and storied history of the church. The whole series has been moving us in this direction. Before we get there, however, we have one final Sunday to reflect on the legacy and impact of the church and Christian faith throughout the centuries.
To that end, I have a few simple questions for us to reflect on leading up to Sunday. Is the world getting better? If you take a wide lens view of history, do you think humanity is collectively progressing? Are things better today for the world than they were decades or centuries ago? Are we living in the greatest time in all of history? Is there a moral arc to the universe?
Hello Nexus!
I'm on this week, considering the Church (the big, universal Church) - in its beauty and brokenness. Sometimes, the gap between what the Church is and what it could be is so very large. It’s like Longfellow’s little girl with a curl - do you know that one?
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
Lots of us have experienced both sides: when it's good, it's so good. But when it's bad, it's really bad. So bad, we might give up on it.
“Most progressive evangelicals, having had a brutal disappointing, even abusive, experience in the Church, see no future for the Church as a change agent in our culture.” - David Fitch
Because of both of those extremes - that the Church can be so good and the Church can be so bad, I’m excited to explore it together. What is the Church in general? What are we, and what are we doing? What is God doing? How and why? Why does it seem that God keeps choosing people?
Lots of questions, lots of ideas and images. I’ll explain why my passion for my favourite pastime might be connected to why I’m still here. I’m excited to dig into this with you!
Friends, our Revisionist History series this Sunday has us re-examining what, until recently, had been a human universal in the world. Throughout the ages, this truth was self-evident: if you are on the winning side of war or hold great power, you get to own other people. What slavery has looked like over the centuries has varied, but behind each variation was a simple notion: people can be possessions.
Most of us are familiar with how Christians participated in, and at times perpetuated, this now damned institution. What we may not be familiar with is the driving force that put an end to it and gave us what are now the familiar terms “human rights” and “crimes against humanity.”
Friends, our Revisionist History series this Sunday has us weighing into the turbulent waters of sexual ethics. The Church has not always had the greatest reputation when it comes to such matters, but what may come as a surprise to many of us is that Jesus and the early church launched the first sexual revolution in all of history! The ripple effect of that is still being felt today. The sexual world of antiquity was turned upside down by Jesus and his first followers. So, to the legacy of the first sexual revolution we are headed this Sunday.
Trigger Warning: The sermon on Sunday contains references to ancient sexual norms which some may find offensive. Further, the sermon contains lengthy sections from Rachael DenHollander’s victim impact statement from the trial of Larry Nassar in 2018. Listener, and parental discretion, is strongly advised.
Friends, there is so much happening this Sunday! You won’t want to miss it. First, we are continuing with our Revisionist History series by exploring the one passage from Scripture that I think has caused more harm, death, and great evil than any other (I think the passage will surprise you). We will be reflecting on the great sins of our faith tradition, and the important lessons we can draw from them.
This week for some Revisionist History, we start with a very controversial Tweet by the notoriously adored, and reviled, atheist, Richard Dawkins. What he tweeted sounds controversial to our ears, but what Dawkins had done is merely parrot an ancient story, one that has been rehashed and retold down through the generations: from Plato and Aristotle, to Nietzsche and Himmler, to the greatest of documentary filmmakers, Werner Herzog. Dawkins was telling the story of “nature.”
In contrast to that story, something new seemed to emerge in the first century. A radically different story that highlighted an experience and emotion centered in the bowels, of all places. And this very unfamiliar emotional response in the ancient world would start a movement that, over time, would launch universal healthcare, as well as end infanticide and the gladiatorial games forever. How could such a thing happen?
Trigger warning to all, this Sunday we will be talking about some sensitive subjects like abortion and infanticide. My goal is not to explore the ethical debate around those issues, but to showcase how radically some things have changed over time. Of course, I will also need to tell you about a young boy I met this summer. A boy named Hudson, and how my response to him left me thinking God often works in our lives in the most obvious of ways...we just don’t see it.
Well, after making some rather bold and audacious claims last Sunday, it is time to settle into this Revisionist History series, and I am excited to get at it by looking at the rather curious case of “equality.”
I am hoping this Sunday will be lots of fun with much to chew on as we dive into some unsettling, but rather profound questions. To that end, we are going to need to talk about the whispered and hushed conversations we all had during COVID, why Lord Sumption landed himself in some serious hot water over some COVID remarks, why we can’t help but reach for the sacred when discussing the value of human life, what it might sound like to debate Plato on his philosophy of inherent human inequality, what Yuval Noah Harari (the atheist) has to say about human rights, and why I woke up rather confused after a dream about Taylor Swift.
Beyond that, we will need to examine why Sam Harris’ (the atheist) "water glass" analogy exposes both the good and ill of believing in God, what kind of water I can convince you all to buy and then drink, what losing Christian stories unleashes on the world, and why people stopped caring about threats of hell after a certain historic landmark. Oh my, so many interesting places to go. I think it will get us all thinking in ways we may have never thought about before.
Well, it is time to embark on a new series that will take us all the way to Easter. As part of our year in The Tensions, I want to take some time to explore the tensions we often feel with the Church and the history of our faith.
Those looking to cast stones at Christianity over the centuries have plenty of rocks to choose from: the Crusades, the Inquisition, Catholic vs Protestant wars, slavery, and sexism, to name but a few. Even today, the Church continues to be rocked by abuse of power and sex scandals, even as we come to terms with the Church’s role in residential schools here in Canada.
Is it possible to be Christian today without feeling a sense of shame? Has the Christian faith been good, or bad, for the world? For this series, I want to try out my best Malcolm Gladwell and do a little Revisionist History. I want to take us on a journey into the overlooked and misunderstood aspects of Christian history and how the cross has shaped our world, for good and ill. And so, into the good, the bad, and the ugly we go. My hope is that this series will be provocative, unsettling, challenging, but most importantly, full of hope!
For this Sunday, I want to start by examining Three Asinine Stories that Remade the World. These stories are familiar to many but have so radically altered the world we live in; it is sometimes easy to forget just how powerful they are. In fact, you may not even believe these stories to be true. Further, you might even think them silly, but what these stories spawned is now considered orthodoxy to the Western mind. So, off we go on what I promise will be a most fascinating journey!
Continuing on with Jesus’ question, “What do you want?”, we’re taking the opportunity to step back and consider our wanting - a complex topic. Often, desires can surface when we look at others’ lives and we might turn a little green…what do we do about that? We’ll explore schadenfreude, what gives envy such a bad name, and how it can actually serve us well, inviting us into connection with ourselves, with others, and with God.
Friends, we are going to spend a few Sundays before Lent exploring some of the questions Jesus posed in the gospels. The first question, which Jesus poses at the beginning of the Gospel of John, is simply, “What do you want?” My, that is a good question. What do I want? What do you want? What do we want? Initially, the question isn’t hard to answer, plenty of ideas come to mind. But if you keep asking the question, and keep rolling it around in your mind, things start to get interesting.
Happy New Year everyone! I hope you had a thoughtful, meaningful, and restful holiday season. 2024 is upon us though and we are heading back Into the Tensions shortly here at Nexus. We are going to do that starting Sunday, January 14th, by focusing on the questions Jesus has for us. Oh my, I am excited to jump into that.
For this Sunday though, we want to spend time considering the song, poem, and word of prophecy that an old man named Simeon delivers to Mary, Jesus’ mother. Mary doesn’t get a lot of attention in Protestant circles, but I want to focus on her as an archetype for all who follow the Jesus Path.
I think the message will be sobering, but I hope it is also encouraging for us all as we set out together again on the Jesus Path for 2024.
The liturgical season of Advent, meaning “coming”, begins this Sunday, and so begins the season of waiting. As if aware of our theme for the year, Sarah Bessey says, “When people talk about 'living in the tension,' I always think of Advent. It’s the time when we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus while naming that we are still waiting here for every tear to be wiped away. I think of the waiting for the Christ child, yes, and I think of the still-waiting for all things to be made right, for our longing for Shalom.” There is a tension in this season - the tension of waiting for the good news to be here now, and seeing at the same time, that it is not yet fully realized.
As we move through the month of December, we’ll light the advent candles of Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. We’ll be looking at four biblical songs - one each Sunday. This week, I’ll be preaching on Mary’s Magnificat - considering its revolutionary and subversive nature, and how it has brought both comfort and unease. It has been banned, truncated, simply ignored, yet also highly esteemed and used for political purposes. What does it say to people to cause all of that tension? What might it have to say to us? It’s full of good news - but is it good news for everyone?
Come explore the longest set of words spoken (or maybe sung) by a woman in the New Testament (a poor, young, unmarried pregnant woman at that!) and stay afterwards to enjoy the creativity of the Nexus community with our Maker’s Market.
Everything is sped up in the cult of speed. We all feel it. There is never enough time. Ah, but time can be redeemed. This Sunday, that is where we are heading. A humble attempt to take back and redeem a slice of our time. It is possible.
To that end, well, we are going to need to talk about heaven (seems fair given how much airtime hell has had the past few weeks). That journey will take us from N.T. Wright, to Rob Bell, to C.S. Lewis and finally to the comedian, Neal Brennan. From there, we will need to discuss how citizenship and culture create calendars, why I struggled to play Lysander in my high school’s production of A Midsummer’s Night Dream, why we mistake weekends with Sabbath, and why, despite all its promise and potential, Sabbath is one of the hardest things to sell people on.
Friends, it is time to move beyond our tensions with God and consider some of the tensions we experience with ourselves. There are many, and we could spend an entire season looking into them. But from now until Advent I want to focus on the tensions we experience in our relationship with time and space.
For this week, I want to start with a story in the gospels about two sisters: Martha and Mary. I have come to see their story, and Martha’s dilemma, as indicative of our own time. To do that, we will explore how the acceleration of technology, social change, and the pace of life have coalesced into a unique plague of our time: zeitkrankheit (time, or hurry, sickness).
This feels like an important one to me. I have been chewing on this stuff for quite a while and am excited to dig in. There is a whole lot to discover and unpack along the way.
Pit stops will include a brief history of standardized time, the trickery of time saving apps, why those for and against action to reduce climate change share the same moral framework, and of course, online pornography, the embarrassment of being caught eating nachos and cheese at a pool, email auto responders while you are on vacation, and what smart phones and banana peels have in common. Oh, and some pre-Sunday homework. Watch at least one episode (or season) of The Office before Sunday. Sound good?
Nexus friends! There are moments when I hint at things in sermons, without fully exploring them. The trouble is that can make things more confusing than clarifying. This past week I had some questions about the way I ended last Sunday with my sermon on hell, how to get there, and the hope after that. Some have asked, Brad, what were you hinting at toward the end? Brad, are you a universalist? Is Nexus universalist? Some might be wondering, wait, what is a universalist? Ah, this Sunday I want to take us into all of that.
So, to all the big questions we go again. Sheep and goats, the meaning of obscure Greek words, Hitler and Dostoevsky, free will, and the open wound of life. I am looking forward to sharing with you once again as we try to finish out our introductory series on the tensions we experience with God. I hope to see you Sunday for, What Are You Hinting At?
This past June, I told you that I had a sense that this season would be taking us to some hard places. Hard just didn't seem to work as a season theme, however, so instead, we are heading into The Tensions. Everything about this coming season is designed to stretch us, challenge us, and invite us into tension. It is in those places that we grow and learn best. It is in the tension that we discover more of who we are and what we are capable of.
And so, we want to wade into all of it: the tensions we feel about God and faith, the tensions we feel within ourselves, and the tensions we experience within our relationships. The easy path always tries to avoid tension. This year we are going to take the road less travelled and confront those tensions, enter them, wrestle with them, and hopefully walk away blessed because of it. Only three more sleeps until we get started!
For this particular Sunday, I want to ease us into the year with a reminder of why Nexus exists, what we are doing together, and how we are trying to do it. This will be a wonderful primer Sunday for those relatively new to Nexus or for those who have considered joining us. It will also be a great refresher for the rest of us. So if there is anyone you know who has wondered what Nexus is all about, this is the week for them. Perhaps invite them to tag along with you.
To that end, I will be taking us through Nexus' Path, Passion, and Practices. Of course, there are new stories to be told and plenty of fun to be had. I trust Sunday morning will be a worthwhile reminder of why we do this thing called Nexus together. So, I hope you will join us Sunday for Join the Joyride.
Friends, it is our final Sunday before the summer and what a year it has been for us! As we bring our season to a close, I want to help us explore the importance of timing, seasons, and rhythms in our lives. We will need to catch up with Jesus and Mary in the garden post-resurrection, what Paul teaches us about entering into new seasons of life, and how I lost my 100-meter-dash-sprinter-mojo. We will also be taking a look at the eight themes we will be exploring this summer: refresh, connect, savour, intention, service, remember, boundaries, and gratitude.
Well, we have come to the penultimate episode of the season. And for this Sunday, and next, I feel as though I have important words to share with us as we wrap up our season together and move into the summer. This Sunday is all about the many, many gifts that are all around us. So, I want to start by explaining my nightly bedtime ritual and how it reminds me of an important truth. Then I want to take us into two incredible sentences we find in the book of James that can help us reframe the way we live. Of course, I will also need to talk about hugging trees, the unfathomable things we are discovering about the cosmos, the cruel vagaries of chance we encounter in life, and why Paul was uniquely qualified to speak about the nature of suffering. Finally, I want to explain why, despite everything, we can walk through life with a sense of joy and gratitude that most people don't possess. I am really looking forward to this one, so I hope you will join us on Sunday for So Many Gifts.
Well, we are in the homestretch of our season here at Nexus. Only four Sundays left until our summer rhythms kick in. So, a final four-week series on the sacraments. Sacraments? Sounds like a stuffy, technical church word. I agree, but I have been excited about this series for months now. Throughout it, we are going to take a look at eucharist and baptism as official sacraments, but how music, and all of life, can function sacramentally as well.
So, for this Sunday, let's discuss Eucharist or communion or the Lord's Supper or the Table, whatever you want to call it. I want to examine how Eucharist functions as an important ritual, sign, and portal. And there are lots of fun and thoughtful places to explore — from the latest research on what rituals actually do, to some serious sign fails, to wildfires, to why I am a bit of a curmudgeon when it comes to wine and bread, and why community is so tough.
A final week on power and this week I want to ask what seems like a very important question: how do we prevent abuse of power from happening within the Church, within our church, and within our lives and relationships? The answer, to me, is a bit startling. Yet, I hope the unsettling answer gives us at least a direction to head in.
So, for Sunday I want to explore the two subtle temptations we face in considering how to use power, what we can learn from Jesus' encounter with Zacchaeus, why sociologists believe the dinner table has a quasi-sacramental power to it, why the first problem we see in the Bible isn't what we think it is, the big experiment I am afraid to try, and why we need to reframe the way we do summers at Nexus. I hope this week will be a meaningful one for us all.
Two Sundays ago we talked about competing notions of power and how the expression of "power over" is wreaking havoc within the church of North America. Is there an antidote or fix to this mess?
The problem is well beyond any solution a single sermon can offer, but the Jesus Path does provide a way forward, and it presents it to us by way of a hymn. A hymn? In one of Paul's letters, he passes on what many believe is the oldest and earliest Christian hymn. Its lyrics are revealing and instructive. So, I hope you will join me on Sunday as we investigate these ancient lyrics. Along the way I will need to pass on the story of Niagara Falls' most daring adventurer, offer us a fresh look at the gateway drug of the virtues (humility), and give you an inventory of questions that I hope you will find beneficial for your life and relationships. I am looking forward to this one.
Friends, there are only nine Sundays left in our season, just enough time to sneak in two short series and a special Sunday or two. We are going to close the season with a series on the sacraments, which I am incredibly excited about. I can hardly wait to get to that. Before that though, a series I am far less excited about—a series on power.
You see, if you were to take a panoramic view of the church in North America, over say the past decade, the scene doesn't look so pretty. Morally failed leaders, sexual abuse, lawsuits and NDAs, congregations sucked into ugly politics, and a slew of books showcasing overt racism and misogyny baked into many Christian traditions. Why does this keep happening in the church?
It seems to me we are well beyond the point of thinking this is just about a few bad apples. Rather, it would seem there is something deeply entrenched in the church in North America that keeps leading to scandalous and harmful failings. What is happening? I am inclined to think it all stems from how the church, and its leaders, understand power.
The good news, or bad news, depending on how you see it, is Christian struggles with power have existed from the start. So, we would do well to dive into the dynamics of how power works and why Jesus calls to us a radically different understanding of power.
Fear not, the series and this Sunday won't be bleak. There is still a lot of fun to be had along the way. Further, if you are looking for a reason to revisit the Lord of the Rings trilogy of films, this three-week series is the perfect excuse. The film conveys in fantasy what Jesus has been trying to teach the church about power for millennia. So, I hope you will join us Sunday for A Different Kind of Power?
Greetings Nexus! It'll be me, Karla, speaking this week, making the case that the Jesus path calls us to make room for Sadness and Lament in our lives. Why would we want to do that? How do we make room for sadness? What happens when we do? Lots of what we'll talk about can apply to other tricky feelings like anger and fear as well. Turns out they all belong in the authentic human experience. Along the way, we'll discover how science can help us enjoy snacking even more. Should be a rather joyful time!
This Sunday, friends, is the conclusion of our Jesus Path series! We are always travelling the path at Nexus, of course, but our A Path Called Compellingseries ends this Sunday. So we thought we might do something a little different. What would happen if you combined atmospheric music + long form story + mini-sermon all in one? I have no idea how this will go, but I think it will be fun to try!
I want to bring you a profound story about a man fighting to protect his own story and legacy and the incredible lengths he went to for that cause. Then I want to focus on one quick exchange we witness at Jesus' cross, all while grappling with what resurrection means as more than a belief, but a way of life. On Easter Sunday we looked at how resurrection can provide a way of life that deals with life's disappointments, frustrations, and restrictions. This Sunday I want to examine how resurrection speaks to our desire for a legacy. So, this Sunday will be a bit experimental, but I have a hunch it could be special.
For Resurrection Sunday, we are going to explore resurrection as a way of life and I am so excited to share this with you on Sunday. This sermon is one that is very close to my heart and speaks deeply to me. I hope it will for you as well. To prepare, I am hoping everyone might come having given some thought to what is on your personal bucket list. The morning will begin when you enter the Conrad and are asked to share on a card, one, or several, of your bucket list items. I will be referencing them in the sermon. This Easter Sunday will lack some of the pomp and circumstance the day is normally associated with in favour of a more honest look at life as we know it and what resurrection might mean for that.
I hope the morning will be honest, raw, comically relatable, and of course, hopeful. We will be travelling through a lot of terrain, from bucket lists to spoiled vacations, a tragic story from the book of Judges to Jesus' words about preparing a place for us, hotel bed confessionals to the ethics of zoos and aquariums. There is lots to cover as we travel forward on the Jesus Path towards resurrection country.
This year, for Good Friday, a morning of somber reflection on the cross and what it means for our own lives. Karla and Brad, along with Dave and the band, will share reflections and songs on the cross: what it reveals, what it means, and what it calls us towards. I hope you will join us as we spend time reflecting on the centre of the Christian faith - the cross.
Traveling the Jesus Path, we find ourselves deep in the terrain of Jesus' cross and the way of forgiveness. We are finally ready to unpack exactly what forgiveness as a way of life can look like. Of course, it is easy to assume that forgiveness is something we practice strictly towards other people, but that is but the tip of the iceberg. This Sunday we move fully into the power of forgiveness and examine what it might look like to practice forgiveness to others, the church, God — and ourselves.
We continue to look to Jesus' cross as the 'forgiveness terrain' we are asked to make a way of life. This Sunday I want to dive into the ways we have been trained to adopt an infantile form of forgiveness and why what the Jesus Path asks of us is much more difficult, but also much more liberating. I trust you will find it to be an informative and meaningful teaching.
There are just over four weeks until we find ourselves at Good Friday and Easter, and as we continue to travel the Jesus Path, we find ourselves firmly within the hilly landscape of Jesus' cross. We will spend the next four Sundays traversing this terrain, paying close attention to how Jesus' cross is more than just an event in time, but a way of life we are called to follow.
To do that, we begin with a story—of a painter—and what he was looking for when he created his masterpiece, David with the Head of Goliath. His story mirrors our own and will take us into the uncomfortable realm of sin, and forgiveness. Those two words are uncomfortable to many, but such is the nature of walking a path. We don't get to choose where it heads, our task is simply to follow. The path now takes us there. But fret not friends, we won't be talking about sin in all the cliché and predictable ways we have become accustomed. Rather, I plan to give sin the treatment it deserves—earthy, gritty, perhaps even slightly crass, and irreverent. (As such, fair warning: This Sunday's sermon is PG-13 and contains language that may be inappropriate for pre-teenagers and that some might find offensive. Discretion is advised.)
Why the need for that? Quite frankly, I am tired of "sin" being ignored or triggering, so let's just talk honestly about it, in plain language. The Jesus Path takes us there so there is no point in trying to avoid it. After all, as the brilliant art critic Simon Schama says, "If we are ever to hope for redemption, we have to begin with the recognition that in all of us, the Goliath competes with the David."
Nexus friends, though quite rare, there are certain Sundays that come together so seamlessly and with such a sense of synchronicity that I can't help but suspect there is something more at play ;) This happens to be one of those unicorn Sundays.Late last Sunday, I sat down to read the cards our community had submitted around what in our lives feels like death or suffering. The weight of those cards was palpable. On Monday, Dave and I batted around ideas, trying to figure out how to hold all that for this coming Sunday. Then on Tuesday morning, I noticed a text on my phone, from Kristen G., with a song recommendation for me. I clicked the link and as I sat listening, everything fell into place. I had spotted a goat on a cow. A few hurried texts between Dave, Kristen, and I, some invites to other musicians in our community, and voila, the whole of this coming Sunday seemed clear to us in a matter fifteen minutes! I can't overemphasize enough how rare that is!There is something about this coming Sunday that feels urgent and timely to me. I am reluctant to oversell any Sunday, nor do I ever want to presume when and where God is at work, but I truly get the sense that there are some of us who NEED to hear and experience this coming Sunday. Most of my blurbs end with some kind of invitation and an expression of my hope that you will join us this coming Sunday. For this week though, I am ditching the soft sell in favour of something bolder. You NEED to be at Nexus this Sunday, especially if you submitted a card this past Sunday.
The season of Lent is upon us and with that, the landscape of the Jesus Path makes a dramatic turn. It is time to start a steep climb as we travel to meet Jesus at his mountain top transfiguration experience. This portion of the trail will have our legs, and lungs, screaming at us. It is not an easy climb and isn't for the faint of heart.Yet, while the climb won't be easy, there is plenty to see and explore as we make our ascent. We will have to consider some of the most absurd laws that still exist in North America before discovering what sent Jesus on a death march. Then we will need to revisit one of Jesus' most famous parables looking for meaning beyond the obvious. Following that we need to chat briefly with Brené Brown, take ourselves back to a tragedy of the late 90s, then eavesdrop on the thousands of conversations that happen in therapy sessions every single day. Finally, we will arrive at our mountain top destination only to confront an uncomfortable truth about the Jesus Path: the path is taking you straight to your death—and that is somehow good news?!?!
One final week exploring the dead-end side trails that tempt us off the Jesus Path before we start some real climbing for the season of Lent. For this final week of tempting serpentine side trails, we will be exploring the Path of Shame. I am hoping to take us into why this path of shame so often leads us nowhere, why I think this path is a particular temptation for people at Nexus, and what the apostle Paul did about his own sense of shame. Of course, I am no stranger to shame, so I will be bringing along a rather unpleasant experience of my own to share with you. All in all, I hope this will be both a fun and illuminating Sunday for each of us.
The temptations of Jesus ask us to consider what kinds of serpentine side trails we are tempted to travel. This week I want to look at the Path of Despair, how we get lured onto it, and why it is such a dead end. Without a rival to compete with in life, so often our sense of feeling like we matter rests on our own sense of self-esteem. The problem is our self-esteem is like the weather, riding out changing highs and lows. We have a lot to unpack, and I am confident there will be plenty for us all to chew on.
The temptations of Jesus ask us to consider what kinds of serpentine side trails we are tempted to travel. This week I want to look at the Nemesis Path, how we get lured onto it and why it is such a dead end. To do that, we are going to take some cues from the life of Peter. It should be a fun week. In fact, I only discovered the name of this path when Glenn Pascoe introduced it to me. So, I thought it would be fun for him to come along on Sunday and share a story with us all. It is always a good time when Glenn brings a reading.
As we continue to make our way on the Jesus Path, we come next to the desert terrain of Jesus' temptations. These temptations were calculated, cunning, and very real to Jesus. They were a challenge to his identity and mission. And so, as we travel the terrain of this portion of the trail, there is much to learn about the serpentine side trails we are often tempted to travel in life. For the next four Sundays, we will be making our way through this wilderness. This Sunday we begin by looking at what was so alluring about Jesus' temptations and why they often trip us up as well. I hope it will be a fun and thoughtful morning together.
Friends, I have been looking forward to this one for a while. You see, there are some portions of the Jesus Path that are just wild and fun to me – and this is one of those weeks. It is time to dive into Jesus' baptism and how this event forms a way of life for us. To do that, I want to explore a series of four incredible stories that raise some tough to answer questions. So, come ready to put your thinking caps on, because I want to ask you what these stories mean—if they mean anything at all. How you respond to these stories will tell you a lot about how you see the world and will start to reveal to us the way God works and operates in the world.
Happy New Year all! 2023 is here and back on the Jesus Path we go. We spent part of Advent in the caves of Incarnation, learning to develop a relationship with land, our people, and especially those on the margins. Now it is time to really pull on our boots as we head out onto the path in earnest. But, before we start trekking, a reminder of the key ingredient on the Jesus Path and a healthy reminder for us all as we head into another year. To that end, we will be catching up with Jesus during a scene in the garden of Gethsemane, examining a painting whose moral lesson seemed lost on the museum that purchased it, looking into what happens when medical emergencies require morphine, and exploring what Paul Young refers to as "future tripping." I hope to see you Sunday for The Fortune Teller.
Week 4 of Advent and this Sunday I simply want to ask the question: where does God arrive? That Jesus was born in Bethlehem is of great significance and I think provides clues for helping us see where God arrives and is at work in our own lives. So, join me this Sunday as we explore what made the little town of Bethlehem a place of great contradictions.
I am looking forward to Sunday as we continue down the Path Called Compelling. This Sunday we will examine what it means to find an incarnational way of life via some clues we find from the particular tribe of people Jesus belonged to - the tribe of Judah. That means we get to listen in on what must have been the most awkward family reunion around Jacob's deathbed, the origin place of Israel's 12 tribes. It also means embracing a way of life that frees us from the burden of thinking we can be all things to all people. I am excited to share with you on Sunday.
Folks, this is our final week at the trailhead of The Path Called Compelling. Before we head out on the path, I want to spend this Sunday addressing three primary questions: first, why is it that the Jesus Path compels some but not others? Second, how do we know when we have encountered Jesus on the path? And finally, who is this path for? I hope it is a fun and meaningful morning for us all.
Back at the trailhead this Sunday, and let’s address some elephants in the room as we get this series going. Am I trying to convert you to Christianity with this series? That will take some unpacking as I try to explain to you why being compelled BY something will always be more powerful than being converted TO something. So, lots of fun ground to cover. For instance, did Jesus come to end religion? Why does evangelism feel so insufferable? Why were early Christians accused of being cannibals? And how did I end up in a pair of extensively used underwear, sweating profusely in a yoga class? Last week we talked about why we all need a path in life…this week is about how we all need a path that compels us, and how the Jesus Path promises the most compelling thing of all – life.
Well friends, this is the Sunday we begin our journey onto A Path Called Compelling. I have been so excited to share this with you and the time is finally here. But let me give you a little background on why I feel so passionate about this series. You see, you don't need to be a sociologist or have studied census data to know that Christianity in the West faces trying times. Young people are walking away from the faith, older congregations are just barely holding on, and any church that is managing to grow is doing so by transfer growth. Everyone knows that religious affiliation is in decline. To make matters worse, the Christian faith, once looked upon by our culture with indifference, is now viewed with suspicion. In Canada alone, the Church has suffered from being a willing partner in our residential school system, clergy sex and power scandals, partisan politics, and resistance to COVID-19 safety measures. This new reality for the Christian faith in the US and Canada means trends in decline are not likely to reverse course anytime soon. This strange new world for faith can provoke intense emotions among those trying to hang onto faith. There is fear and anxiety over Christianity's fate, and anger and resentment over how the Christian faith has been used to hurt others. There is also confusion about how to reimagine our faith for this time. We know that how we understand and live out our faith must change. In previous generations, the Church sought to convert unbelievers through rational argumentation. Those efforts largely failed, and in the cultural milieu of suspicion and religious pluralism, no one wants to be converted, especially by losing an argument. What I hope to do throughout the course of this series is offer a bold and new apologetic for the Christian faith. Rather than attempt to demonstrate how the Christian faith is right, what I hope to do is give us a stunning portrait of the Christian life that feels compelling. I want to help us discover a faith that feels more like an adventure, a way of life, or that road trip you have always wanted to take, because I am convinced that being compelled by something will always be more potent than being converted to something. And so, this series is my attempt to offer a map, compass, and guide to help us navigate our way into a brighter and better future. I hope this series can help us recover faith from the shame and scandals of the Church. I hope it might be a rallying cry for a new generation of Jesus followers and a companion for weary travelers already on the path. So, from now until Easter, I hope to act the role of part expedition guide, part raconteur, part pastor, part seasoned park ranger, helping us get lost in stories and wisdom about a terrain and trail we thought we knew, but know we need to rediscover.
After 10 years of service and on the occasion of his 75th Birthday, Nexus pays tribute to Murray Baker.
I mentioned in Week 1 of our prayer series that I would do a final Sunday where I answered any questions people have on prayer. I received five questions. They are these:
- Why pray if I’m totally willing to accept whatever God sends my way? When I was diagnosed with prostate cancer I did not pray for healing. I prayed that God would help me deal with whatever resulted in a God honouring way. Was that a demonstration of submissive faith? Or was it a cop out; afraid a prayer for healing would not be answered?
- Some Christians believe that if many are praying for something the more likely it will be answered. Wouldn’t that mean a famous preacher is more likely to be healed than an usher?
- Do you think that substances that alter our state of mind (alcohol, cannabis, or psychedelics) could be a tool for prayer?
- You have talked a lot about how prayer is about our own formation…what is God’s role in all of this? What is God doing while we pray? Does God answer prayer?
- Sending "thoughts and prayers" has become a ubiquitous phrase people offer up in the face of tragedy. But it seems to be a cheap platitude for doing nothing. Does prayer make a difference in the face of suffering?
Well…this ought to be interesting.
One final teaching on prayer. I know for some of you this series has been a bit of a slog…our questions and doubts around prayer seem too insurmountable to find any real value in prayer. I get that. Thanks for tracking with us anyway.
For this final teaching on prayer I want to look at evening (or night) prayers – the prayers we might utter at the end of the day or when restless nights find us. To do that, it will be helpful to have on hand the “morning and evening prayers” I gave you earlier in the series. If you don’t have a hard copy, it is attached here.
I want to take you through three parts of my evening prayer routine: Examen, Evening Prayer, and Prayer Before Sleep. For me, these three have become incredibly meaningful to me and I am fairly confident they could be the same for you. Of course there are plenty of pit stops to make along the way. Beyond that, I have something exciting to share with you this Sunday, so I hope you will join us this coming Sunday for The Things That Keep Me Up At Night.
In 2016, Martin Scorsese released a passion project film – Silence. It was immediately lauded by critics as a thoughtful and moving meditation on faith and Christianity. Scorsese had turned theology into art. In making the film, Scorsese consulted with the Jesuit priest, James Martin, to ensure he conveyed Jesuit spirituality as accurately as possible. The leading actors in the film, Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver, spent a year learning under James Martin so they could play the role of Jesuit priests well. You should check out some of Andrew Garfield’s interviews about his experience making the film – fascinating stuff.
The film has stayed with me since I first saw it in 2016, but what I was particularly struck by was a specific question Martin Scorsese asked of James Martin. Scorsese wanted to authentically capture Jesuit faith under pressure. One scene in the film depicts a Jesuit priest facing a crucifixion drowning. Scorsese asked Martin what a Jesuit priest would pray for in such cruel circumstances. James Martin’s response (which makes it into the film) has stayed with me for years, and I want to share his insight with us all this Sunday. As we move towards the conclusion of our prayer series, this Sunday I simply want to ask the question, what should we pray for?
Today is Karla’s first sermon, tackling some words of Jesus that are curious, sarcastic, nuanced, paradoxical, and challenging. We’ll explore questions of faith (What is it? Do I have enough? Enough for what?), consider the power of gentleness, and explore other tensions and paradoxes on the Jesus path including a really tricky one: What is the best condiment?
So, how much mayo do you add to tuna from a can to make a tuna salad sandwich? More or less than 2 tbsp? Just curious. My fam thinks I go a little heavy on the mayo. I think they don’t know what a good sandwich tastes like. Anywho…this Sunday is all about opening the tuna can. By that, I mean I want to continue our prayer series by inviting you into my own prayer routine. I am going to simply show you what I do with prayer every day (ideally) and why I do it. This is something I have never done before at Nexus, and I am excited to fill you in on the prayer routines that work for me. In fact, I have a whole little handout for you and everything.
- Brad Watson
Seems like a pointless question…we know what prayer is…that thing you do where you talk to an invisible God. Yet, many of us have inherited what I think are unhelpful notions about prayer and so I want to help us reimagine what prayer is and what it is supposed to do.
To that end, I want to start the morning with a little game I am calling, “Would you, or would you not, pray for that?” It will be a fun little exercise, no need to keep score or publicize your results, but it will be a fun little way for us to get a sense of what we honestly think about prayer. For instance, if I asked you to pray for the Blue Jays to win tonight, would you do it? I will take us through that before drawing upon the wisdom of Jesus and those within our tradition to help us craft a better understanding of prayer. We will need to explore why pragmatism ruins prayer, what I learned when Glenn Pascoe took me clothes shopping this summer, and what wrestling with my kids has helped me understand about the nature of prayer. I hope it will be an enjoyable and thoughtful morning for us all.
This Sunday, as we start our season, I have decided to dive headfirst into what may be the most personally challenging and intimidating series I have ever put together. A series on prayer. Now, I have done single teachings on prayer, but a whole six-week series? Yikes. Of course, I will have to tell you the story of how I got myself into this situation, but the truth is I struggle with prayer and always have. And yet, I think I have picked up a few things over the years that may be of interest. To start the series, I want to ask a serious question: are there actually any good reasons to pray? I can think of a few and want to share them with you. Of course, to do that I am bringing with me an assortment of stories and observations: conversations under the stars about the James Webb telescope, embarrassing learnings from an ill-conceived paragliding adventure, and the great superstition of those in the West.
Brad
As we usher in the summer, I want to share with you the story of Jesus being anointed with oil. Just days before his death, Jesus was at a dinner party when Mary pours an expensive oil on him, causing quite the awkward scene. The way Jesus responds to this gesture is fascinating to me and there is much for us to learn from it. To me, it feels like the perfect story to end our season on as welcome the rhythms of summer! Hope to see you Sunday for A Beautiful Thing.
Friends, two Sundays left in our season and this week I want to talk about the Blood & Thunder of mob mentality. In the past few years, we have witnessed the power and devastation of the mob. While the phenomenon dates back thousands of years, a certain mob mentality is recognizable within certain aspects of our culture and current events: Boxing Day shopping mobs, sports fan mobs, the trucker convoy, the January 6 insurrection, and of course Twitter mobs. Anytime there is a collective motivated by anger and accusations, conditions are ripe for Blood & Thunder. This Sunday, I want to get under the phenomenon of the mob and explore how it works, why it is so seductive and dangerous, and of course, how Jesus shows us a way to avoid and resist the mob mentalities we encounter today.
I want to tell you the familiar Bible story of Jesus calming a storm at sea by way of a painting and the story of the biggest heist in North America’s history. I know it will be both fun and thoughtful for us.
If you had the privilege of sitting through any kind of brainstorming meeting over the past 25 years or so, chances are you heard this phrase at some point: “We just need to think outside the box.” It is a pithy little saying, and its meaning is obvious enough. The person who said it probably didn’t love the ideas being generated and wanted to inspire others to expand their thinking. Fair enough. Sometimes we need that reminder.
But this Sunday I want to make a case for the opposite: thinking inside the box. To do that, I want to tell you a marvelous story about a religious work of art from one of the greatest artists of all time. Just because we are given a box to work within, doesn’t mean we can’t create something beautiful. Embracing the limitations of the “box” might liberate us from a lot of shame and pressure. It might even make us more grateful.
A lot of attention has been given lately to the role that power plays in relationships and more broadly in society. Power exists and people obtain power through a myriad of ways, some more fair than others. So, how should power be used? This Sunday I want to show you a classic ‘power move’ the apostle Paul made during his lifetime. He isn’t subtle about it either. It almost feels mafia style. And yet, I want to contrast Paul’s use of power with one of his contemporaries. Both were responding to remarkably similar situations and there are both similarities and striking differences in their approach. In looking at both, I think we are given a fantastic primer on the nature of power and how it should be used. I hope this Sunday is meaningful for all of us and a great conversation starter.
I want to speak about prayer this week. If you are anything like me, prayer is a struggle. I just find it hard. And yet, it seems important for the person of faith. Over Lent I participated in a prayer experiment, and I want to share with you some of my learnings from those forty days of prayer.
After two long, long years without a Soup Sunday friends, it is back! That is right folks, this Sunday we reclaim the wonder of sharing soup together. Do remember that we are out at Steckle Farm this week, not at the Conrad Centre. We are meeting there at 10:30am. So please join us and bring a chair…and a bowl…and a spoon. Don’t forget your chair and bowl! Also, this is not a potluck. If you haven’t been asked to bring soup, you get to just come, receive and enjoy the soup and the morning. So I really hope you will join us.
In fact, so excited am I about Soup Sunday that I wrote a whole sermon about it. This Sunday morning is a meditation on the beauty of Soup Sunday - why it is important, why we need it, and what we can learn from it. I hope to see you Sunday!
For the past two years we have had to celebrate Resurrection Sunday online. No longer! Friends, I am excited to finally be together again for Easter Sunday. This year, I want to toss around some resurrection conjecture. That the tomb was empty is a revelation. But what does it reveal? This Easter I want to explore the four things the empty tomb reveals and the four things it points towards. And so, for the first time in two years, I hope you will make a point of being together with us for the Sunday at the heart of our faith. I can’t wait to see you then!
Between Jesus' triumphant arrival in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and the victory of Easter Sunday, lies gruesome Good Friday. That the day is “good” at all is not intuitively obvious. As such, it is a day we cannot rush past. When Good Friday is skipped, resurrection celebrations can often start to feel cheap. The day and event ask us to linger there because the cross is the epicenter of Christianity and what makes it strangely scandalous. So, join us as we linger around the cross and the particular temptation that took Jesus there.
For this Sunday, we are heading into the sixth and final week of Lent, which brings us to Palm Sunday as we journey towards Finding Strength & Courage.
This week’s playlist is an eclectic selection of songs to help us reflect on the themes. You can find the playlist here on Apple Music or on Spotify.
In terms of art and film, I will just say I have truly kept the best for last. This piece, Christ’s Entry Into Brussels in 1889, is, I believe, one of the greatest religious portraits ever created. The piece is enormous, 14x8 feet, and comes as a parody of Palm Sunday, and yet it captures something incredibly profound. We witness here a masked mob carnival procession of clowns and marching bands, welcoming the arrival of Christ. But Jesus here is a lonely figure, distanced from the crowd, all but ignored. The artist, James Ensor, is making a point still as relevant as ever. The message and implications of Palm Sunday are still ignored today. I will be reflecting on this work a lot this week and next, referencing it in my teaching this Sunday as well.
For those interested in film, I will boldly say it – there is no greater reflection on faith in film than Terrence Malick’s masterpiece A Hidden Life. I can only beg and plead with you to make this film part of your Lent or Holy Week. Your faith life will be immensely richer for having experienced it. The film is gorgeous, profound, unsettling, and one of the greatest reflections I have ever seen on what it means to be Christian. Variety said of the film, “Cinema at its mightiest and holiest. A movie you enter, like a cathedral of the senses.” I will say no more except to plead again for you to make time for this film sometime before Easter. Watch the trailer here.
For our fifth week of Lent, we are journeying Into the Sublime. If there is ever a week to immerse yourself into the arts, this is the one.
Like last week, the playlist for this week is truly wonderful and takes you to many “shivers down your spine” moments. From the opening chorus of ‘Oh Happy Day’ to ecstatic classical pieces, this playlist is worth your time. You can find the playlist here on Apple Music or on Spotify.
For those who find art a useful companion for reflection, this piece by Caspar David Friederich is just so rich and calls for deep contemplation. This is his work Monk by the Sea. I have made this the homescreen on my computer and internet browser. I will be referencing this work in my teaching this Sunday.
For those interested in film, check out Ron Fricke’s Baraka. It is a documentary with no narrative and no voice-over. And my oh my is it a trip. It simply an exploration of our world via a compilation of natural events, life, human activities, and technological phenomena shot in 24 countries on six continents over a 14-month period. The film tries to capture “the power, rage, and essence of life itself.” It is one of the most memorable films I have ever watched. Click here to watch the trailer and here is a clip of one of its many mesmerizing and memorable scenes, Kecak, a Balinese-Hindu dance and music drama.
This Sunday, Brad presents you with a trial case, where you will all serve as jury members. Yes, there will be a vote. You will hear the true story around a unique trial case and then asked to vote whether you think the defendant should be found guilty or not. The trial story comes with a purpose; to showcase for us the need to bring nuance to many of the discussions and subjects that often divide us today. Further, it demonstrates how the New Testament presents us with three different responses to a challenge the early church faced: what to do with meat sacrificed to idols. Now, that issue isn’t particularly relevant for us today, but that the New Testament has three distinct responses to the challenge is telling. It indicates that in the life of a church, very few things are cut and dry. And there is much for us today to learn from that. The New Testament’s framework helps us reconsider how we think about lots of hot button issues: from cannabis to sexuality, abortion to politics.
For the fourth week of Lent, we are focusing on The Many Silences of God. The playlist for this week is like a wonderful choose your own adventure. Tracks 1-20 are contemporary songs exploring the theme, ah, but tracks 20-30 are a delightful collection of classical tracks. Start at track one, or choose a different listening experience and start at track 20. For this week, you can find the playlist here on Apple Music or on Spotify.
For those who find art a useful companion for reflection, two fantastic resources for you. Check out Queen’s House, Greenwich 2 by Ben Johnson. Or, check out this article from the CBC on liminal space photography. In the collection of photos, you can hear and feel the silence they capture. It is a bit eerie.
For those interested in film, Martin Scorsese’s film Silence is a "must watch at least once in your life" kind of film. Fair warning, the movie is a deep and profound meditation on faith, but it is not an easy watch. Clocking in at 2 hours and 41 minutes, the viewing experience is at times difficult…which is part of the point. And, at the very least, being a Martin Scorsese film, you know you are in the hands of brilliant director. You can find a trailer of the film here, and perhaps the last line of the trailer will convince you to give it a view.
We are entering our third week of Lent, where I want to focus on memory, mistakes, sins, and regrets with a teaching I am calling: “Regrets…I’ve Had A Few.” It has been such a fun and curious listening experience working through the playlists our Nexus musicians have compiled for these weekly Lenten themes. For this week, you can find the playlist here on Apple Music or on Spotify.
For those who find art a useful companion for reflection, I want to briefly touch on two pieces of art this week. Check out Jan van Eyck’s The Arnolfini Portrait and Katsushika Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa.
For those interested in film, I will be referencing and reflecting on the classic film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The film poses a most provocative question: what if we could have some of our memories erased? The film is an exquisite reflection on the possibilities and consequences of such an endeavour. You can find a trailer for the film here.
I hope you will join us again this Sunday where we will bring together stories, Scripture, music, film, and art in Regrets…I’ve Had A Few.
For this second week of Lent, we are contemplating “Grief Observed”. For those who want a piece of art to reflect on, check out Edvard Munch’s The Sick Child. I have made this my background screen on my computer to reflect on during the week. I will be referencing this work on Sunday.
Our Nexus musicians have also compiled a list of songs that explore the theme. You can find that playlist on Apple Music or on Spotify. Specifically, I will be reflecting on Dolly Parton’s masterpiece Jolene.
For those interested in film, I will be referencing and reflecting on Chloe Zhao’s film Nomadland. Not only does this film feature some of my favourite landscapes in the world, provide timely commentary on the failure of the American Dream, and combine actors working alongside real life ‘nomads’, most importantly, I think the film is a powerful reflection on grief. I LOVE this film. Without question, my favourite film of 2021. You can find a trailer of the film here.
Finally, Dave Pitschner will be giving us a reflection on his own grief process, and I know we will all be richer for it. My conversations with Dave over the past two years during his grieving process have been some of the most grounding conversations I have had. I am honoured he is willing to share his story.
This week’s focus on "Grief Observed" will be something I return to on Easter Sunday. This Sunday and Easter serve the purpose of bookends you could say for our Lenten series.
Friends, the season of Lent is upon us, a six-week season of preparation leading up to Easter. For each week during Lent, we will explore a different Lenten theme through Scripture, stories, song, art, and film. For this week and this Sunday, we are reflecting on how "life is difficult." Glenn Pascoe will join us with a reflection, as well as to give us some more information about One4Another.
For those who want a piece of art to reflect on, check out Andrew Wyath's Christina's World. I have made this my background screen on my computer to reflect on during the week. I will be referencing this work on Sunday.
Our Nexus musicians have also compiled a list of songs that explore the theme. You can find that playlist on Apple Music here or on Spotify here. Specifically, I will be reflecting on this song for Sunday.
For those interested in film, I will be referencing Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man this Sunday as it brings two very opposing understandings of our world into a beautiful and haunting conversation. In my estimation, this may be the greatest documentary film of all time. You can find the trailer here. For a more intimate portrait of the difficulties, and beauty, of domestic family life, I can't recommend Minari highly enough. It is a gorgeous film that will stay with you long after you have watched it. You can find the trailer here.
For those of you looking for a prayer aid during Lent, here is the prayer liturgy I plan to work through every morning during Lent. You can also find it on our Nexus Updates & Events Facebook page. I hope you will join us this Sunday as we bring together art, stories, Scripture, song, and film.
I am reminded this week of a lyric from the Weepies: “The world spins madly on.” Madly indeed. The four horsemen have left the stables; the red rider carrying his sword of war. I am sure many of us will be following what is happening in Ukraine closely to see how this all unfolds, but please join me this weekend in praying for peace, for the many lives that will be lost or forced to suffer and that cooler heads might prevail among our world leaders. A mysterious phenomenon took the US by storm back in 2020. It is an intriguing tale…a story of one of our propensities as humans and why we need the Table to remind us of important truths in life. I hope you will join us in person, or online this week. I will also lay out some exciting plans we have for the season of Lent. I am so hoping you will journey along with us through Lent, so tune in for details around that. Things are moving at Nexus and I hope you will join us this Sunday. And by the way, keep an eye out for the mysterious.
One final week in the book of Revelation which will take us to the book's final vision. For all the fantastical images of the book, with its cosmic rock opera battle, what is the book pointing us toward? John was of course writing to churches that were filled with melancholy and despair (which feels relatable these days). Some of these churches had suffered, some had simply given up and tried to get cozy with an empire no one thought could be resisted. To these weary and run-down churches, John the Revelator provides one final vision for them. That vision, for me, has long been a source of hope and inspiration. His vision has felt, over the years, like someone throwing me a life preserver whenever it feels like I am drowning. I love John’s final vision. His vision is deeply personal for me. Of course, like the rest of the book, it is cloaked in imagery and symbolism. We will have to talk about being lost while hiking, wade into the age old debate of whether the journey, or destination, is more important. We will also need to wade into the not-so-subtle sexual imagery of the vision. I hope John’s final vision might do for your faith what it has done for mine.
McDonald’s, Colgate, Ikea: meet Revelation. The ancient book of Revelation shares a commonality with some of the most recognizable global brands today. Both know the power of symbols. Whether it is John writing a politically subversive message of lament and hope 2000 years ago, or contemporary marketing on billboards and in magazines, both know that images and symbols can convey stories, meanings, ideas and suggestions that go far beyond what is immediately obvious. So, as we continue into the operatic drama of the book of Revelation, we are going to look to advertising for some clues. The book of REvelation is a story of a cosmic battle between Jesus and empire, but as we move into the battle itself, we are confronted with some troubling imagery, images that have become synonymous with the book itself: Armageddon and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. For many, these scenes from Revelation point to a blood bath battle Jesus will wage at the end of the world. Of course, that raises a troubling question for anyone travelling the Jesus Path. If Jesus wages war in the end, does that mean the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount and the whole love your enemy thing is abandoned? In the end, does Jesus realize that power and violence trump love and forgiveness? Does the Jesus of Revelation leave the Jesus of the gospels impotent and meaningless? For those who are serious about deconstructing an unhealthy faith with the hopes of reconstructing a better one, getting Revelation right is important. That is the task at hand this Sunday as we dive into battle scenes of Revelation.
The book of Revelation, with its wild imagery and cryptic clues about the end of the world, can certainly capture the imagination. “Experts” on the book work through maps and charts, speculate about who the anti-Christ might be, when the end will come, and what nation(s) Jesus will be fighting against at the great battle of Armageddon. As we continue to try to unpack who God is by looking to Jesus, Revelation seems to present a problem, which is why we will dig into the book for three weeks (no maps or charts). Understanding this final book of the Bible is a necessary part of any faith deconstruction process. To do that, we are going to have to do a little background work, but we will also need to talk animals: the fugu blowfish, the lion, and the lamb. Join us as we jump into what is unquestionably one of the weirdest, unsettling, and strange books of the Bible. However, also one of the most daring and beautiful books.
There are some scary things about Jesus in the New Testament. First, his frequent references to being cut down and thrown into a fire. Second, the cryptic clues he apparently left us about “end times” in Matthew 24. Third, virtually everything about the book of Revelation. Finally, two of his stories: the parable of the sheep and goats, and the rich man and Lazarus. These stories will be the focus of today's teaching. They are littered with images and threats of hell. These stories should startle us…just not in the way we think they should. We will conclude with a modern day parable about “Pharma Bro”.
For the past two weeks, we have looked at how Jesus helps us read and understand the Old Testament in more honest and life-giving ways. We spend this Sunday wrapping that up. But our series will be far from done. While the Old Testament contains many uncomfortable stories and passages, the Gospels themselves, and the book of Revelation in particular, gives us some puzzling and scary images of Jesus. What do we do with them?
Jesus does tell a story about a rich man suffering in hell, begging for a drop of water on his tongue. That freaks me out! Or consider that Jesus speaks more about hell than any other person in Scripture. That scares me. What about that oft quoted teaching of his about sheep and goats? That is disconcerting to say the least. And that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of scary images we find of Jesus in the book of Revelation. Have you read that book recently? It reads as though someone had a bad acid trip and recorded their hallucinations. If there is one book that terrifies people, it is Revelation: beasts with seven heads, rivers of blood, some kind of final world war to end all world wars. I mean, solving the riddles of the Old Testament still leaves an honest believer with plenty of questions. We are headed to all of them, because we need to sort these things out once and for all.
This Sunday, through a few stories, we continue exploring what Jesus reveals to us about God. Reconciling some of the ugly portraits we see of God in Scripture, with the God Jesus reveals to us, requires one of four options. This Sunday we explore the best of those options and speak to how Jesus read and interpreted the Old Testament. To do that, we'll look at some subversive stories within the Old Testament along with the bold and daring act Jesus performed in front of a hometown crowd. An act requiring much audacity.
A new series begins today with three questions based on observations within the Nexus community:
- Why do so many parents at Nexus have trouble talking to their children about faith?
- Why do so many grown adults have trouble talking to their own parents about faith?
- Why are so many people at Nexus in the process of deconstructing their faith?
The answer for all three of these questions is that many of us are haunted by a most disturbing ghost. There is something in our closets, our pasts, our upbringing that is behind these observations/questions. It is time to bury this ghost and be done with it.
Well, a New Year is just around the corner. It is a season where even the most skeptical among us can’t help but consider setting expectations for the year ahead. This Sunday, an offering of hope and intention for this coming year. In short, it has everything to do with wonder. There are lots of stops along the way, from a Christmas Eve busking concert, awkward Christmas presents, climbing mountains, the James Webb telescope, the mysterious hut on the dark side of the moon, and why NASA recently hired theologians for one of its recent projects. Lots of fun to be had along with some thoughts and reflections on music, art, nature, and the greatest mystery of all time.
In the midst of our fatigue and never-ending bad news, we pause to celebrate, or at least reflect on, Jesus’ birth and the incarnation. Now, more than ever, we need to get this right. What exactly are we celebrating when we think of Jesus' birth and incarnation? Well, to get at that, we turn to two stories/analogies about incarnation. One is from Donald Miller, the other from Paul Harvey. They both seem to miss the point of incarnation. Getting the promise and good news of incarnation right seems more important than ever, especially now, in our weary world.
Advent is a season of expectation, of waiting, longing, and anticipation. In this way we mimic those originally waiting for the Jewish Messiah to arrive when Jesus was born. But as Jesus has already come, what are we waiting for with Advent today? The short answer is…fire. Through stories of problematic Advent calendars and Brad's encounter with a grizzly bear, we head on a wild survey of fire within Scripture and what it can teach us about Advent today. We will be touching down briefly in Genesis, Exodus, Daniel, Malachi, Luke, Hebrews, Corinthians and Revelation.
For our second week of Advent, we will concentrate on Advent hope by way of reflecting on a piece of art. It is Sister Grace Remington’s Mary Comforts Eve. Look up the original piece on Google. It is by Scott Erickson. It seems to capture not only the story of Scripture in one image, but the human condition and the hope that animates the Jesus Path.
Advent is here again and you can sense the excitement and anticipation in the air. This gloomy November will soon give way to Christmas lights, decorations, and songs of the season. This Christmas will no doubt be special for many after spending last year in lockdown. To get our Advent season underway together, we start with the angelic announcement to Mary that she will become pregnant and bring a new life into the world. So begins the story of pregnancy, a beautiful and complicated battle between two opposing forces. We explore all of that while keeping an eye on what this meant for Mary, and of course us. Let's get going and light our first Advent candle.
This Sunday we pick up where we left off, in third wave secularity. In our time, the secular has birthed a new ethic and new authority. They come with promise and potential, but also excesses that make the life of faith hard. We dive into high school bullying, a hilariously revealing sketch from Saturday Night Live, why we all feel like we can’t keep up, the one story Charles Taylor believes is a litmus test for how all of us see the world, how the story of Abraham, Moses, Jesus and Paul push us to look for cracks in the imminent frame of the secular age, and how most Disney stories play with those same story archetypes.
4 Questions:
- What is it so hard to be a person of faith today?
- Why does it feel as though depression and anxiety are at an all-time high?
- Why are doubt and deconstruction so popular these days?
- Why do pastors have no clue what they are doing?
To get to these, we will take a brief journey through the history of secularism. This will take us back 500+ years to a world vastly different than our own. An album cover, a statue in Venice, an enchanted forest in Briethaupt Park, Jose Bautista’s bat flip, what we learned from Donald Trump staring directly into the sun, and two songs that perfectly reflect the space in time we all inhabit: secular world three.
Brad reflects on a family trip this past summer that got him thinking a lot about rivers and flow. Brad suggests that one of the best ways we can understand the nature of Scripture is to think of it as a river. Scripture continues to be a source of doubt and concern for many, but understanding it as a river may be of aid to some of us.
How does a woman with a PhD in psychology, two New York Times bestselling books, and no idea how many cards are in a deck end up putting her career on hold for three years so she can learn to play poker? Maria Konnikova’s story of academic turned poker professional is an interesting tale. Even more interesting though is the lessons she learned along the way and how many of those lessons seem to apply to walking the Christian Path. This Sunday we explore the faith lessons inherent in so many of the games we love most.
For the next few weeks we will explore the wild world of game theory. Conceived in the 1950s, Game Theory is a mathematic discipline that has influenced quantum theory, economics, evolutionary biology, systems science, computer science, military defense planning, and logic. Might it have something to add to our ongoing exploration of the Christian Path? This week we are dive into the game behind the theory itself: poker. We will need to explore the nature and consequence of beliefs, election polling, the stakes of the incarnation, Jesus' parable of the talents, and, of course, we should probably play a little poker. This Sunday promises to be both fun and challenging for us all as we explore what it means to have Skin In The Game.
This Sunday is our final week in the Practices series and we will be wrapping it up by looking at Generosity.
We are almost to the end of practices here at Nexus as we look at Hospitality and Forgiveness. We spent four weeks on forgiveness in June, so the focus here will be primarily on hospitality. There are many dimensions to hospitality, but for this Sunday, let’s examine what it means to be a hospitable person? Brad will examine two episodes from Jesus’ life, explain this odd thing called Robot Soft Exorcism, and relay to you a most fascinating event he witnessed unfold this summer in Victoria Park (involving police, a man on a statue, and an unruly crowd).
We are diving into our third practice, our desire to be present and awake to the land and people in front of us. To do that, we will start by examining the implications of one of the most boring and redundant pieces of writing in the entirety of the New Testament. It's almost guaranteed that if you have ever read the gospels, you either skipped this part or fell asleep reading it. Have you ever read through a phone book? Yeah, it is about as exciting as that. However, the implications of these writings are monumental for us. The speaking of the account of Jesus' genealogy.
Onto our second practice. This Sunday we look at how we practice belonging and participation here at Nexus. This is a crucial question for any church to answer and in doing so we consider the "guest list". Brad shares two experiences he has had as a “guest” and how those stories inform the way he thinks about belonging and participating here at Nexus.