In a recent Facebook post, former United Church Moderator Richard Bott

perceptively summarizes how President Donald Trump is working “to
consolidate the authority and power of their three branches of government
into the Executive branch – and into the person of himself.” He’s doing so in
many ways, including:

• Granting special favours to media outlets and personalities who support his policies
• Pardoning his supporters who illegally stormed the Capital building early in
  2021
• Requiring public servant to pledge their loyalty to him rather than to the
  U.S. constitution
• Deciding that two of his country’s closest economic partners and allies,
  Canada and Mexico, are now America’s enemies.
  In these and other ways, President Trump is working “to inflame U.S.
  citizens, to make them believe that they are under attack, and that any pain
  they have to endure will only be short-term, and will ‘Make America Great
  Again.’”
  Because of these and other recent initiatives, Richard admits that “I am
  afraid.” He asks: “How long until the American flag flies on Canadian
  territory, not as a salute to our neighbourly connection, but as obedience
  and obeisance to empire?” He also wonders: “With all of the destructive
  power that is held in that one man’s hands, what will the world look like by
  the time he leaves this mortal coil?” I don’t know about you, but I too have
  these questions. I too fear for our future.
  Of course, fear isn’t new. Indeed, one of Jesus’ most frequent messages to
  his friends and followers was: “be not afraid.” And the lectionary reading
  for this coming Sunday describes a time when Jesus shared these
  important words with a fisherman named Simon. So this week we’ll talk
  about the relationship between fear and faith, and explore how the
  guidance that Jesus offered Simon can also give us courage, wisdom and
  hope. It’s a powerful and pertinent story, so I hope you’ll join us in worship
  on Sunday at 10:30 a.m. I look forward to seeing you then.

Not long ago, newspaper columnist Marsha Lederman received a note from a friend saying “she was sorry about the horror show” because “she knows I feel all of this evil so deeply.” “Thanks,” Marsha responded. But then she asked herself, “which particular horror show was she referring to? There
are so many options.” So, in a Globe & Mail Column entitled “From This Week’s News, You Can Choose Your Own Horror Show,” she identified a number of recent events that have left her deeply troubled. Her list included:
– The looming possibility that the Trump administration will impose 25-per- cent tariffs on Canada, beginning February 1.
– President Trump’s call for a ‘clean out’ of Gaza” and “about sending (or cleaning out) displaced Gazans to Jordan or Egypt, as if they were not actual human beings who longed to return to their homes (or the site of their homes) and rebuild their houses and lives.”
– And Elon Musk’s address at a rally of the far-right, anti-immigrant AfD party of Germany, shortly before the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, where he “urged them not to be ashamed of their country’s history.”Lederman’s list or horrors went on. So, she wondered, how do we cope?

These powerful words remind me of the request Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde made to Donald Trump last week, and of the Jesus’ message to the people of Nazareth long ago. Such messages, alas, aren’t always welcome. But they are very important.
I look forward to seeing you this Sunday at St. Mark’s at 10:30 am.

This can happen at school, in workplaces, and even among family and
friends – and when it does, some people get left behind. What’s more, it’s often the people who stand on the sidelines and refuse to get their hands dirty who then turn around and criticize those who are struggling. “It’s human nature, I guess, because we’ve all thrown the stones, and we’ve been the recipient,” Cotton notes. “But it serves no purpose other than to break each other down incrementally, and sometimes worse.”

 Sadly, this phenomenon is far from new. Indeed, the Biblical story we’ll focus on this Sunday (the wedding feast at Cana) reveals that even Jesus had moments when he didn’t want to involve himself in someone else’s problem. So we’ll see how he dealt with this temptation, give thanks for those who lift us up rather than bring us down, and ponder what it can mean to step up to the plate and not walk away in times of need. It should be an interesting morning, and I really look forward to seeing you this
coming Sunday at 10:30 am.

Last Sunday morning, Grace Sheppard invited us to submit some stories about our mothers for inclusion in a book that the St. Mark’s UCW will be publishing in the spring. Her words promoted me to think a bit about my own mother, Dorothy Manson (nee McKay), and a couple of important lessons I learned from her. Mum was raised on a farm in southern Manitoba and went on to teach elementary school in Winnipeg. She loved what she did, but like all single women who taught back in the 40s and 50s, she had to give up her job when she got married. So she moved to the farm with my dad, I came along, and a new chapter began. But she’d lost an important piece of her identity. So once I started school, she began driving into Winnipeg a couple of evenings a week to take the university courses she needed to upgrade her credentials and return to the classroom. Doing so took courage and dedication. She’d been out of school for a long time so being a student again wasn’t easy – it took her several years of hard work to get her degree – and her home and farm responsibilities were also heavy.

Somehow she managed to juggle it all. And her efforts were rewarded when she was offered a tailor-made kindergarten position that gave her a number of happy and fulfilling years back in the classroom. Over the years, I learned much from my mother’s example – including the importance of “working hard and doing what you love.” And I’d hunch that all of us can also think of someone – be it a mother, grandmother or other important female figure – who’s taught us some important lessons. So I hope you’ll take the time to think about that special person and share some of the stories and memories you have of them. For if my experience of doing so is any indication, you’ll be glad you did.

As the calendar turns to a new year, ideas abound about what we can do to bring health, joy and peace into our lives in 2025. Among other things, we’re encouraged to exercise more regularly, change our diet, and set some specific goals for the new year. These and other similar suggestions are well-meaning, and can indeed be helpful.

But one of my favourite writers, Anne Lamott, offers another suggestion. Take time to pray. And lest we find this to be a daunting prospect, Lamott reminds us that we only have to remember three simple words to do so: Help. Thanks. And Wow. For these three prayers address most every circumstance and need.
I believe she’s right. So as we begin another year at St. Mark’s, I hope we can remember to offer these three prayers whenever they may be appropriate. When challenges appear, we can ask God – and one another – for the help we need. When things are going well, we can offer thanks to the Creator and to those whose work has brought these blessings to fruition, and express our gratitude. And when surprises occur and unexpected opportunities present themselves, we can respond by saying “wow,” and embrace the new and exciting possibilities that are before us.
It remains a privilege for me to be in your midst, and I’m very much looking forward to the year ahead. So I hope to see you this coming Sunday morning at 10:30 at St. Mark’s. And I pray that 2025 will be a year rich in blessings – for us and the world.