forest hill 
November 16, 2025
Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost
"Uncertain Times"
November is such a grey month: dreary weather, shortening days, the time change that means dusk arrives before the evening rush hour. By mid-month the trees look barren, and mud and muck are everywhere. Even the unusually early snowfall that cleaned things up for a bit last week didn’t last. The snow has melted; dreariness returns.
And there isn’t even a holiday till Christmas, which can feel like eons away as the days darken.
The readings recommended for worship in these gloomy November days invite us to contemplate endings. Nothing lasts forever, they remind us; even the monuments that we build to epitomize power and human strength. Even the most intricate examples of human ingenuity. All that we build, and all that we create, will eventually crumble.
It’s depressing. But it’s true. It’s the human condition.
This year, add in the trade war that threatens the jobs of our neighbours and our national sovereignty. Add in the climate deniers who are boycotting the COP 30 negotiations and preventing the world from moving towards a healthier future. Add in the wars and rumours of war in Sudan, Gaza, Ukraine. Add in … well, you name it. There’s always lots to wring our hands about. Most of them, things we can’t do anything about. Endings are discouraging, and we’d rather avoid them all together.
Does God have a message for us, in uncertain times like this? How have our ancestors in faith found strength to hope, when human endeavours flounder? What would Jesus advise? Why do we expect from the Higher Power we venerate every Sunday?
In the passage from Luke this week, Jesus says we shouldn’t be surprised when times get uncertain. This isn’t a sign that God has failed us, he claims; it’s simply the nature of the world. Endings abound; don’t let that shake your faith in the God of Life.
Jesus says, “this will give you a chance to testify.” Interesting. Testify what? Testify to the power of the God of Life that continues, even when human strength fails? Have we experienced that? Have we caught glimpses of that in our own lives? Do we have life experience to ground that kind of testimony?
Jesus says, “You will be hated by all because of my name.” This doesn’t feel encouraging! But standing for fairness in a world that’s brutally unjust doesn’t win you praises from the powerful. Standing for kindness in a world that’s brutalized usually gets you written off as a naïve do-gooder. Standing for beauty in a world that vandalizes and lashes out with ugliness gets you mocked and sidelined. But it’s still worth it. Standing for fairness, kindness and beauty diminishes the power of all that degrades our own lives and the lives of the vulnerable around us. I wish I had the courage and insight to do that more often than I do!
Jesus says, “Not a hair on your head will perish.” Really? Is that possible? Is there a future beyond the “perishing” that happens in this world, where we can expect to be held and treasured and delighted in? Even if we “perish” in this world, are we still a part of God’s Creation? I want to trust that!
The reading calls us to lift our eyes higher than the greyness of the skies. Higher than the auroras that danced across the night this week. Higher than our human hopes or our human failings. Lift our eyes to all that lasts when human endeavour fails.
You are a part of that Creation. You are connected to all that has value; all that has strength; all that brings joy; all that lasts. Walk through uncertain times trusting in the Eternal one, and testify to the ways that walking in that light empowers us to act for life, even when our actions seem puny or unremarkable. When we face the uncertainty of the human condition with courage and trust in the power of life, we join our efforts to the song of the stars, and remarkable things are possible.