Hi everyone,
Welcome to worship for this 6th Sunday of Easter, May 25, 2025! We welcome Pastor Nathan back from a week of holidays, and we also welcome Bishop Kathy of the BC Synod to (virtually) share a sermon with us!
The bulletin can be found here. You can use it to follow along with the service, as it has the order and words of worship as well as Bishop Kathy’s sermon. Alternatively, you can follow along with the words that will appear on your screen, and the sermon is posted on this page below the video.
If you’d like to enhance your online worship experience, you can have a lit candle in your space for the duration of the service and you can extinguish it near the end when the altar candles are extinguished after the sending hymn. You are also welcome to participate in communion by having something small to eat and drink prepared. Further instruction will be given at the appropriate time.
May God’s love and peace be upon you, this day and always!
Sermon by Bishop Kathy Martin of the BC Synod
Grace and peace to you, from the One who calls us forward in faith, and who gives us peace beyond all understanding.
This past year has been a tumultuous one for me personally. Last spring was my first convention as a bishop. It was exciting, challenging and of course there was so much to learn. I remember walking away weary but happy with all we had done together. I didn’t know that a week later I would find myself in the hospital with what we would discover was a heart attack, women present differently, and a need for open heart surgery. I remember being strangely calm, through almost everything in the weeks and months that followed.
I was frightened and anxious at times but undergirding it all was a sense of peace; peace I couldn’t explain any other way than to say it was God’s peace.
What comes to mind for you when you think of peace? Is it the quiet of a lake at sunset or a walk through the forest or perhaps sitting by the ocean at the close of the day? Is it the hush that comes after your fussy child or grandchild is finally asleep or your teenager has come home? Perhaps it is in that moment when you know the argument is finally over, or the quiet of a ceasefire after years of war?
“Peace, I leave with you; my peace I give to you,” Jesus says. “I do not give to you as the world gives.” These are words we hear today from John’s Gospel. And if we’re honest, they are words that stop us in our tracks. What kind of peace is Jesus offering, and how is it different from what we usually imagine?
Today, we stand with the early church in the season of Easter. The tomb is empty. Christ is risen. Yet even with this good news, we, like the disciples, often find ourselves unsure of what comes next. This is especially true in times of change, like those we are living through in the world today, with economic uncertainties, the shifts in global relationships, and even on a smaller scale as we say goodbye to Bishop Susan and prepare for the election of a new National Bishop in our denomination, the ELCIC. These are times when we find ourselves asking, “Where is the Spirit leading us?”
The reading from Acts tells us about a moment of profound uncertainty. Paul and his companions are on a mission, traveling through Asia Minor to share the good news of Jesus. But something unexpected happens: the Spirit of Jesus prevents them from going where they had planned, from doing ministry the way they had always done it. They try again—another door closes. Eventually, Paul receives a vision of a man from Macedonia pleading for help. Trusting that this is where God is leading, they set sail. And what do they find in Macedonia? Not a man, but a group of women gathered for prayer by a river. Among them is Lydia, whose heart is open to the message. She and her household are baptized, and the church in Philippi is born. This is not what Paul had expected. It was not part of the original plan. But it is exactly where God was already at work.
In this story, we see that God’s leading or at least our understanding of it is not always a straight path. It may not be entirely visible and often comes in closed doors, in re-routed plans, in nudges to show up at out of the way places or explore or be curious about gatherings outside the gates. Paul’s mission changed direction not because of failure, but because the Spirit was leading him and the church somewhere new—somewhere he never would have imagined on his own.
This speaks to us today. As we look ahead to the future for this church, for our National Convention and the election of a new Bishop, we may feel some of the same uncertainty. Where is God leading us? Like Paul, we do not have a complete map. But we are not without guidance. The Spirit continues to move, to lead, to open hearts, and surprise us with new directions, new adventures in Christ.
This story also reminds us that moments of disruption—of change in leadership, of institutional shift—can be times when God is stirring and starting something new. We may be called into ministry beyond buildings, among the marginalized, with a greater digital presence, ministry shaped by collaboration and creativity. Change is never easy, but it is often how God brings new life and opens our hearts to be surprised by grace.
And we feel this longing for God’s leading not only in our church life but also in our life as global citizens and neighbours. The world around us is in deep turmoil. We are bombarded with images of war and destruction—Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, Haiti, the challenges across the US. Conflicts that uproot millions and leave families grieving and displaced.
In Canada, we are watching the cost-of-living soar. The housing crisis seems to be growing. The dream of security, of having a place to belong, slips away for many. And in our communities, we welcome refugees and asylum seekers who carry unimaginable trauma, looking for safety and hope. Their presence is both a challenge and a gift—a reminder that Christ comes to us in the face of the stranger, the vulnerable, and these ones seeking peace.
It is not hard to feel overwhelmed, even fearful, when we see so much suffering and uncertainty. Jesus says to the disciples—and to us, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”
This peace is not the absence of conflict, nor a promise that everything will be easy. It is a deep, abiding assurance that the Holy Spirit is with us, even when the path is unclear. This peace is not rooted in power or certainty. It is rooted in presence—the Holy Spirit’s presence that abides with us, guides us, and never lets us go.
Jesus speaks these words not at a time of calm and comfort for himself, but on the eve of betrayal. Even on that night he offers peace—not as escape, but as courage, as a deep assurance that God is with us.
Each Sunday, we share the peace with one another. It is much more than simply a greeting; it is a message we pass to each other about God’s presence and a reminder that we are rooted in a peace the world cannot give. We are held by the promise that we are never abandoned. We are connected through the Spirit who breathes God’s presence in our worship, in our decisions, and in our communities.
Paul’s experience in Acts reminds us that we may not see the end from the beginning. There may be detours, rejections, delays. But we trust that the Spirit is moving. We trust that there are Lydias ahead—places and people where the gospel will take root in unexpected ways. God’s Spirit working beyond our plans, beyond our structures, beyond our imagination.
That is true for our church as we discern new leadership. It is true for our nation as we wrestle with justice and compassion. It is true for our world as we respond to crisis and displacement. God is already present. Already leading. Already sowing the seeds of life and invites us to join in that work alongside our neighbours.
Change can bring disruption—but also great opportunity. Our call is to remain open—to explore and notice the riverbanks where people are gathering, to listen for visions and nudges of the Spirit, and to trust that God’s purposes will unfold even when we do not understand.
The peace Jesus gives is what sustains us in this work. It is peace that allows us to keep moving, keep hoping, keep loving. It is peace that gives us courage to open our doors to those who need refuge, to walk alongside those who grieve, to advocate for the earth, to pray and act for justice.
We have hope. We have courage. We have a future. Not because of what we do, but because God promises to be present and lead us forward into whatever lies ahead.
Thanks be to God. Amen.