Sermon: Report of the Pastor

Sermon 1/31/10, Jeremiah 1:4-10, 1 Corinthians 13:1-13, Luke 4:21-30

Report of the Pastor

In my preparations for our Annual Meeting today, I decided I would combine my report into my sermon. For practical reasons, it allows me to reflect with all of you about our first six months together, as we plan for the year ahead, even if you can’t stay for our meeting today. But I also want us to understand that there’s no separation between the ‘business matters’ of the church and our mission, ministry, and worship. Everything we do together in the life of the church is meant to be in service to God, who calls us. So where have we been, and where do we go from here?

Our official congregational mission statement says that our purpose is “Growing together in our knowledge and love of God through Jesus Christ and sharing this with others.” I shared with you in the last newsletter that Connie McEvers said that she could remember the core of the statement by its key words: growing, loving, and sharing. Her shortcut has been sticking with me, and I’ve been trying to incorporate those three words into what we do here, to give you an easier way to connect with a plan to deepen your faith. So, I also want to use these words to frame my report to you this morning. How are we growing, loving, and sharing?

Our mission as a congregation is to grow. We can say this in many ways. We want to grow numerically – I know I would certainly love to see this sanctuary filled to capacity each week. I’d love to continue to see growth in our youth program. I would love to see us grow in our giving. But in this context, when we’re talking about growing in love and knowledge of God, I think we’re talking about spiritual growth, discipleship. How are you growing spiritually? What are you doing to nurture your soul and how can this congregation encourage that growth in you?

Our Old Testament lesson today is from the prophet Jeremiah. At the start of the book, we hear about Jeremiah’s call by God. Jeremiah begins, as many of our biblical characters do, sure that he is unqualified for God to use him. He claims that he doesn’t know how to speak, and is only a boy. But God basically replies that no excuses are acceptable. “Do not say, “I am only a boy,”” God says, “for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you.” Jeremiah’s story is like so many of ours – we’re sure we’re not wise enough, or gifted enough, or special enough for God to be using us. But God promises to be with us, to give us words, and promises that we shall do what God commands. Jeremiah becomes one of the great prophets of Israel, without any special qualifications that we know of, except the ability to listen to God’s voice.

To me, that’s what spiritual growth is about – learning to practice a way of life that helps us to listen and respond to God’s voice. Our lives are so full of things that compete for our attention and energy. We have to learn, to practice, to be disciplined in our spiritual lives, so that God’s voice has a chance of finding us. So how are we working to grow spiritually? One way is through offering small-group study experiences. In the fall, the Parish Council completed a Healthy Church Checklist, in which we committed to increasing participation in small group studies by our leadership. To that end, you will notice that we have and will continue to have several options for spiritual study. I encourage you to make it a priority to find one of these groups to be part of.

The season of Lent is fast-approaching, and I urge you to consider it to be a time of spiritual reflection, rededication, and renewal. We’ll be having a midweek communion service during Lent that will focus on a deeper understanding of the meaning of communion. I will also be surveying the congregation to find out which small-group study topics would interest you and which times would best suit you. If a group study isn’t your thing, please, speak to me about ways you can work toward spiritual growth, and I will help you find something that stretches and challenges you.

Our mission as a congregation is to love. Love is a word we toss around pretty lightly in our culture except, when it comes to people. We love TV shows and movies, we love pets, we love a song. But we’re a little stingier with our love for one another. After a time of transition in this congregation, I feel like this is probably the most critical area of focus for us. We need to work on loving one another. Our reading from Corinthians this week is one of the most famous passages in all of Paul’s writing – the love chapter. You’ve probably heard this passage a million times, because it is the passage most frequently chosen for weddings. “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” Paul’s language is beautiful, but he’s actually not writing about romantic relationships. As I mentioned last week, Paul is in fact writing to a congregation in Corinth that has been struggling with conflict and disunity. It’s in that context that he’s talking about what love is. It is patient. It doesn’t demand its own way. It rejoices in truth, bears all things, and doesn’t end. Paul says that without this love, we can have all the gifts and graces imaginable and still be just a noisy gong.

We’ve experienced some brokenness within the congregation. But we’re called to an ethic of love that, if we follow it, will help us journey beyond our brokenness. As we talked about last week, we are all members of the body of Christ, and all valuable parts of the community. For the body to work, we have to work together, and we don’t get to cut each other off, or decide we’re going to go it on our own. That’s just not how the body works. We have over one hundred regular worshippers and many more members and constituents in this part of the body. Sometimes we will seriously disagree with one another. Sometimes we will have a hard time getting along. But do you love one another? Can we work on loving one another?

Now we need, first, to experience some forgiveness within the congregation. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, I know. But we begin with forgiveness. Each Sunday we pray to be forgiven as we forgive others. Are you forgiving? I’m asking you today, if you’ve experienced hurt and conflict, to begin forgiving, to let go of the past, and to move on. We cannot go forward as a congregation if we always holding on to what is behind us, because it will hold us there, and keep us from looking down the road where God is leading us. To that end, I encourage you, if you are experiencing disagreements or conflicts, to always speak directly with one another. It’s easy to let hurts fester and multiply when we talk about and around someone instead of to them. And if you are having trouble talking to someone about a disagreement, please seek me out, and I can help you.

We had some wonderful times of fellowship in the last six months, including a spaghetti dinner and cookie walk. I encourage you to take part in activities like that that just give us time to spend with one another. My own goals this first year focus heavily on building relationships. I’ve appreciated spending hours with you at Panera Bread or in your homes. My goal in the year ahead is to visit every member and constituent of the church. You can help me with that project by signing up for a time or contacting me to set one up. I’m interested in hearing about your hopes and dreams for this congregation, and I’m interested in knowing who you are and why you are here. I encourage you to also seek time with one another – with whom do you need to rebuild a relationship? Take a step towards healing in the months ahead.

Finally, our mission as a congregation is to share. In fact, we’re called to share it all, share in everyway: what we have, who we are, what we know – all of this is meant to be shared and given in love to those who so desperately are seeking purpose and hope in their lives. Our gospel reading today picks up again where we left off last week in Luke, when Jesus unrolled the scroll of Isaiah and read from it in his hometown synagogue. When he is finished reading, he sits down and tell the listeners that the scripture has been fulfilled in their hearing. And we read, “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words” he spoke. That might seem like a positive reaction, but Jesus doesn’t seem happy with their response. He certainly stirs them up with his reply: “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town . . . there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.’”

The people are filled with rage at his words, and try to drive him off a cliff, and we as 21^st century readers are left wondering what we missed. Why did his words upset them? Well, what Jesus points out to the people is that God sent these prophets to work through non-Jews. Though the people saw themselves as God’s chosen, revered prophets of Israel Elijah and Elisha did God’s work not through Gentiles. God chose to use those who were outside the community, rather than those who were inside. The people of Nazareth don’t want to hear it. They want to wonder at Jesus, all grown up, and reading the scripture so beautifully, but they don’t want to be transformed by the scripture they hear, and they don’t want to hear that it’s actually all about someone else, not them, after all. Jesus read about good news for the poor, release for the captives, sight for the blind, freedom for the oppressed, not good news for the middle class, release for the independent, sight for those who just won’t open their eyes, freedom for the comfortable.

As a church body, it’s very easy to slip into thinking that what we do here is about us, and making sure that we are happy. But the church is exists not for itself, but for those outside of it. When Jesus gave his great commission to the twelve, he told them “Go and make disciples.” That’s why the official mission of both our denominations is other-focused, not self-focused. Our primary purpose is outward-reaching, sharing God with others. That’s the primary reason for the church to exist. So if we aren’t doing that, we’re in trouble. So sharing is a key word in our mission statement. Churches that are vital and healthy are churches that are outward-looking, serving others, rather than making sure members’ needs are met.

How have we been sharing? We’ve been working to re-people and re-energize our Evangelism Team. The world “evangelism” means “good message,” and that’s our purpose: sharing the good message with others. Our Nominations Team has worked hard to find more people willing to help, who will soon be joining our currently small team. Karen Dunn, our chair, is very faithful in following up with any visitors who worship here. We also attended a training session this fall called “ReThink Church,” along with some of our Missions Team, and I think we all felt inspired with new ideas. Our Missions Team has worked hard to engage the congregation in mission work. We’ve had mission moments, collected blankets, food, scarves and health kits, we’ve sent kids to camp, we’ve supported local and global missions, we’ve CROP-walked together, and we’ve had an ongoing presence at The Crossings.

But we want to do more. We’re talking about sharing ourselves. I mentioned last week that our young people are already gifted at inviting others to attend church activities with them. But we can’t leave this work up to them. If we want to see the church grow and thrive we have a direct responsibility to act by sharing what we’re about, about this God we serve, and about God’s love, freely offered to us. I challenge you, this year, to focus on inviting someone to worship with you. More than any program or advertising campaign we might do, people come to church because someone invites them. We’re also developing our relationship with the Rescue Mission in the year ahead. We have so many gifts, and we excel at sharing donations and financial help with a number of organizations. But we are called to share our hearts. We’ve committed to pay special attention this year to hands-on mission – mission that involves building relationships with the people that we serve, so that we might understand how much they in turn are serving us. This year, I challenge you to spend more of your time in hands-on mission work.

I believe that we are blessed with wonderful people, gifts, talents, and resources here at First United. God has blessed us with such abundance, and such potential. I have dreams and visions about what we might be, and where God might lead us, if we’re ready to take the risk of following a God who is known for leading people to turn their whole lives around and upside down. I’m ready – ready for you to help me take those risks – ready to help you take those risks. The people of the First United Church of East Syracuse are called to grow in our knowledge and love of God through Jesus Christ and to share this with others. So let’s grow. Let’s love. Let’s share. And let’s go together. Amen.

Sermon for Third Sunday after the Epiphany, "Filled: With the Spirit"

Sermon 1/24/10, 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a, Luke 4:4-21

Filled: With the Spirit

Every time I come across this week I the lectionary cycle, I’ve chosen to focus my preaching on the gospel text of Luke. It’s one of my favorite passages. It’s Jesus’ first sermon of sorts, at least the first that is included in the biblical narrative. In it, he returns, filled with the power of the Spirit, to his hometown synagogue in Nazareth, as was his custom, we read. He stands up to read, and he reads from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Then Jesus rolls up the scroll, sits back down, and says, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” In reading this text from Isaiah, Jesus sets out, from the very beginning, with a very clear announcement about what he intends to be all about: good news for the poor, release for captives, sight for the blind, and freedom for the oppressed.

But our other scripture text today keeps catching my attention, calling to me to give it a second look, because I feel it really contains a message we need to hear right now. Our text is from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. The church at Corinth was a faith community that Paul himself founded, and he’d received word that “a lack of harmony and internal strife” had been troubling the congregation. So Paul writes this letter in response to the conflicts he’s hearing about, as a letter that reminds the community of how to live together as the Body of Christ. This chapter is one of the key themes in the book. Paul begins, “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body.” Paul then goes on to paint a vivid visual for us – he talks about the human body as the body of Christ, and compares each of us to parts of that human body, as we are part of the body of Christ. There is just one body of Christ, but there are different parts of the body of Christ, each of which has a different function. All of these roles are vitally important to the body of Christ, but none can exist on their own, none is more important than the other, and none has the right to say to the others, “I have no need of you.” Paul tells us that “God has so arranged the body . . . that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.” We are individual members of the one body of Christ.

As we prepare for our Annual Meeting next Sunday, I think this text is something we need to hear and really consider. This week, our Pastor-Parish Relations Committee met with my supervising District Superintendent, David Underwood. He is also preaching today on Corinthians, and spoke to us about how this passage reminds us that the church is an organism, not an organization. The body of Christ is a living entity – filled with the Spirit, made of people, all of God’s unique creations. We are the body of Christ in the world – that’s a reminder that we hear every time we celebrate communion together. When the elements are consecrated, we pray, “make [these gifts] be for us the body . . . of Christ, that we may be for the world the body of Christ.”

We are called to be the eyes of Jesus. Right in our gospel lesson today Jesus talks about bringing recovery of sight to the blind. He certainly does this in literal ways through his healing, but Jesus was also about opening the eyes of those who were spiritually blind. He spoke about spiritual blindness as a more troubling problem, and frequently called the Pharisees blind guides, blind fools, the blind leading the blind. But Jesus always sees situations, and sees us, clearly, seeing through the facades we put on. When I searched the scriptures for references to Jesus seeing, I noticed that most often, we read that Jesus sees with compassion.

Jesus also sees those that others don’t see. In the gospels he sees children, women, those in need of healing. He sees the faith of people who are on the fringes. He sees the ones that others walk right by. Jesus sees us as we truly are, as we hope to be, as we might be, as we are trying to be.

How do we see people? Who don’t we see? How can we be the eyes of Jesus in the body of Christ? When I think about this congregation as a part of the body of Christ, I can think of those who truly act as the eyes of Jesus, really seeing everyone. We have a couple of people who are most likely to see you if you are a visitor – one standout person is almost always the first person to introduce himself to someone new. And we have some people who always see people who need help entering the building, who are always right there to open doors, operate the elevator, and put someone at ease. We have some people who really see our youth and children, who notice what is going on in their lives. We have some people who are really good at seeing who is not here, remembering those who have been absent for our fellowship and reaching out. We are blessed to have some people who are the eyes of Jesus in the body of Christ.

We are called to be the ears of Jesus. All through his teaching, Jesus would end his parables and sermons with the words, “Let all who have ears, let them hear!” Or, “Let anyone with ears listen!” When he stayed at the home of Mary and Martha, he praised Mary for just sitting and listening, rather than being busy with household chores. To have someone’s undivided attention is such a rare gift, and it was one that Jesus gave to unexpected people. Think about how you listen to someone who is speaking. We spend much of our time listening to someone with our minds actually in another place – we’re always worrying about what we are going to say next, how we will respond, or a million other things – what’s on our to-do list, what’s happening next, or even how we will fix a problem someone is sharing. But one thing I’ve learned over the years is that most people aren’t looking for you to fix their problems. They’re just hoping you care about them enough to listen to their experiences. Jesus gave his full attention to people. And he asks our full attention to what he teaches.

So how are we being the ears of Jesus in this part of the body of Christ? Who is particularly attuned to listening – to other people, to God’s call, to the Spirit’s leading? I know that we have some people here who have been good listeners when I’ve needed help. I know even just this week one in our family met to really listen to and talk with another member who has having a hard time. We have some people here who are anxiously listening for how God will call them, who frequently speak to me about wanting to hear God’s hopes for their lives. We have someone who volunteers many hours each week at a helpline and just listens when people call when they’re in times of deep crisis. We’re blessed to have people who can really listen when we are at meetings or council sessions and disagreements arise, who can really listen for the core of what someone is saying and understand another person’s perspective. We’re blessed to have those who embody the ears of Christ in this congregation.

We are called to be the mouth of Christ. Words are extremely powerful. Words can hurt or heal. I bet each of us can think over our lives and remember things that have been said – said in love or said in anger. Sometimes words are so powerful that years later we can remember word-for-word what someone told us. And because words are so powerful, we have to be careful, thoughtful, with what we say and why we say it. Every time we speak, we have an opportunity to be the mouth of Christ. Jesus said that it is what comes out of our mouths, not what goes in, that makes us clean or unclean. What has come out of your mouth that you are proud of? What have you said that has caused harm to another person? Jesus was someone who always spoke out of love, but also someone who spoke the truth, even when the truth was difficult to hear. When have you spoken up when no one else would? When have your raised your voice to call for justice, and when have you been quiet, letting an injustice go by without giving voice to the harm you saw done? And of course, Jesus used his voice to share the good news about God’s unconditional love, to share the news that we didn’t have to wait for God’s kingdom – that God’s kingdom was here, near, now.

How are we being the mouth of Christ in this body, this congregation? I urge you to consider carefully the power of your words, and how we speak to and about one another. We are blessed to have some people here who are so excited to talk to you about God and God’s love. We’re blessed to have a group of adults who are serving as teachers and mentors to our Sunday School students and confirmands – they, whether they realize it or not – are being the mouth of Christ as they share stories about Jesus and about their own faith journeys. We have a group of people who is dedicated to leading worship at an area nursing home every 6 weeks or so – they are acting as the mouth of Christ for people who don’t often receive that attention. We’re blessed with people who participate in worship through music and assisting and reading scripture – they are acting as the mouth of Christ. Some of you really work on inviting people to worship – some of our young people consistently invite friends to church or Sunday School or youth group – they are acting as the mouth of Christ, and we are blessed to have them in our congregation.

We are called to be the hands of Christ. Think about what you use your hands for. In Jesus’ day, most people’s livelihoods would come from manual labor – work done with the hands. What work do you do with your hands? In the gospels, Jesus uses his hands primarily for healing and blessing others, and again he focuses his that healing and blessing on those who are usually on the fringes of society, at the margins. Jesus also uses his hands to feed and to serve, even to wash the feet of his disciples. Physical touch can be a powerful way to communicate the love of Christ. I think of the feeling of holding a baby to be baptized, or the touch of hands that are joined with yours in prayer, or the connection made between you and me when we renew baptismal vows, or celebrate a healing service with anointing oil, or next month when we will be marked with ashes. We are called to be the hands of Christ – how do we use our hands as Jesus did?

We’re blessed to have hands in our midst that hold a shovel or bag of rock salt on snowy Sunday mornings. We have hands that helped with construction – or destruction – in our Sunday School wing downstairs, including hands that worked hard when no one else was around to see. A certain pair of hands frequently takes items from the narthex to the right spot in the food pantry. We have hands that do things like fill our altar candles, change our paraments which decorate our sanctuary, and ready communion bread, including hands that prepare communion bread nearly every single Sunday for our 8 o’clock service. There are hands that have mended my robe for me, and hands that have knit prayer shawls, and hands that have baked bread for food baskets. There are hands that collect and count our offering each week. We’re blessed with the hands of Jesus, hard at work in this community of faith.

And we are called to be the feet of Jesus. When I think of Jesus’ feet, I think of all the places his feet had to go. Jesus’ feet took him all the places no one else wanted to go. His feet took him to the home of a tax collector and the home of a Pharisee. They took him to Jericho and Syrophoenicia, to Sidon, to Nazareth, to Jerusalem. His feet took him to a leper colony, and up mountains to pray. His feet took him across the water, and eventually took him to his own crucifixion, where he gave his life freely. Jesus wanted us to think about where our feet take us too. Jesus said, “if someone requires you to go one mile with them, go with them also a second mile.” He was talking about a law that required Jews to carry the pack of an occupying Roman soldier for one mile if requested on the road. It was a law to travel that mile. Jesus told people to go further than was required – the extra mile. Where do your feet take you? I mean both literally and figuratively. When do your feet take you out of your comfort zone?

I see the feet of Jesus in this congregation. You’d be amazed, I bet, at the places these feet have been in the name of Jesus. Someone’s feet carry them to a city church to teach nutrition and cooking skills to those who really need to learn. Someone’s feet take them to P.E.A.C.E. right here in town to drop off food. Some feet have travelled on mission trips to serve those in need. Many feet have traveled to camp to learn more about God. Some feet will be traveling soon to serve meals to hungry people. Feet, young and old, stood in a mall ringing a bell for the Salvation Army. Where have your feet taken you? We have the feet of Jesus, right here in this congregation.

Sometimes we need reminding of how blessed we are to have such a full congregation of different and unique people. There is no one here who can bring to this congregation what you bring. And there is no one here who can bring to this congregation what the person who sometimes frustrates or challenges you brings. Yesterday, for a conference event I was attending, we had to read a document about leadership, which included words from a Luther pastor named Wally Armbuster. He writes, “harmony is not everyone singing the same note at the same time. That is monotony. Harmony is when everyone sings his or her own note and then listens carefully to others in order to blend together.” It isn’t always easy to live together and work together and be in ministry together when we have such different ideas about the best way to make things work. But what a blessing it is that we have so many people who are passionate about serving God in this place. Paul reminds us that we are bound together by something that runs much deeper than common interests or compatible personalities. We are bound together because we are one in the Spirit, one in the body of Christ. The tie that binds us is stronger than the differences that stretch us – and so we celebrate, and nurture those bonds, and we’re meant to nurture and care for our relationships within the body of Christ. We are the body of Christ in the world – we are the eyes, the ears, the mouths, the hands, and the feet that carry God’s love, made possible by the Holy Spirit that works within us. “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body.” Amen.

Sermon for Second Sunday after the Epiphany, "Filled: To the Brim"

Sermon 1/17/10, John 2:1-11, 1 Corinthians 12:1-11

Filled: To the Brim

You might have noticed that last week and this week our sermons have had the theme of: filled. We’ll continue on with that for the next couple of weeks as well, and I chose this focus because I suddenly noticed, as I was preparing my preaching schedule, that the gospel lessons for several weeks in a row contained the word “filled.” And I think “filled” is a perfect word to describe how God wants our lives to be. My very favorite Bible verse is from John 10:10b – “I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.” Jesus is all about giving us life – but not just any life. Full life. Abundant life. We live in a culture that is so full – of sounds and sights, of must-haves, of things an stuff – and yet people feel amazingly empty, always trying to fill up with the wrong things. The message of Jesus, though, is pretty clear. God is supposed to be the one filling us.

Things certainly have seemed quite full to me this week, as I prepared for worship today. On Tuesday, the world heard of a devastating earthquake in Haiti, and the news from the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere just seems to get worse as the number of casualties climbs. And yet, there are stories, too, of amazing hope and sacrifice, stories of people singing in the streets, hymns and Halleluiahs. We mourn the passing of one of our church members, Emily Brundidge, who died this week. My mind is with my mother, as she continues to heal from her ankle fusion surgery. Tomorrow I meet with a group of Presbyterian youth, who will be travelling to visit the United Nations next month in New York City. Yesterday I met with Communicators from four United Methodist conferences, to plan for our merger in July. Today you received the first formal announcement of our Annual Meeting, which take place two weeks from today. Things are feeling pretty filled up. No doubt a quick review of your week would bring up similar results.

And our themes in worship are full too – today we celebrate the work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., as we consider his work for racial justice. And beyond that special designation, our scripture lessons have weight and fullness in their own right today. Our reading from the epistle to the Corinthians talks about spiritual gifts, the variety of ways in which God gives to us unique qualities which enable us to serve and to help one another in faith. Our gospel lesson talks about Jesus changing water into wine at the wedding in Cana. Both these texts offer so many possibilities, but I keep returning to that word – filled. We are indeed filled to the brim, with our lives, with our need for God, with directions God can lead us in worship today. Where do we begin?

First things first. Jesus' changing the water into wine is generally considered his 'first' miracle recorded in the gospels. Well, it may be his first miracle, but other than chronological uniqueness, it doesn't seem to me particularly remarkable. Don't get me wrong - I haven't mastered changing water into wine just yet. It's more that the type of miracle Jesus chooses as his first public display of God-given powers seems a bit odd in choice. How does this miracle really help anyone? It saves the host of a wedding reception a bit of embarrassment from running out of wine, true. But no one is healed, no one's leprosy vanishes. No one's sight is restored. No raging storms are calmed. It doesn’t seem to be a life-changing event. Jesus simply changes water into wine, enabling a party to continue on for more hours, and boosting the host's status in the eyes of the guests who are impressed with the new wine's quality. What a strange way to make his mark in the world of miracles!

So if the particulars are not so impressive, as far as miracles go, anyway, what's so special about this event? Why is this the first? Why bother to include it in the stories of Jesus, when there are so many other things we wish we could know about the life of this Christ? Chances are, as usual, there's something more than meets the eye. We read that Jesus used 6 jars that were used for purification rites, 20-30 gallon jars, about the size of our street-side garbage cans. These jars he ordered "filled to the brim" by the stewards - you can just picture them, almost ready to spill over from fullness, like the commercial images of soda at fast-food restaurants, appealing in their abundance. Jesus changed these water jars into jars of wine. And when another tasted the wine, he called the groom and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now."

For me, these empty vessels represent our own lives - we are these jars, creations of God, ready to be filled up. Often we try to fill ourselves up with things we desire, things we think will bring us meaning. But others aren't fooled, realizing inferior wine, so to speak, when they see it. But God offers to fill us up, and to the very brim - first with the waters that would cleanse and purify us, as we remembered last Sunday, but then with the good wine, the best-for-last wine, the filled-to-the-brim-its-so-good wine that causes others to remark about our quality - that something-special substance in us. We can choose: the watered-down life of our own design, or the abundant brim-filled life that God offers.

Our quick response is to say that of course we want the full version - we want the real thing, we want to have the best wine to fill our vessels. But unfortunately, it's not as simple as that. If we don't want the watered-down version of possibilities for our lives, it also means we can't accept watered down versions of who God is, who Jesus is, or how Jesus calls us to live. Too often we want to skirt the issues Jesus confronts us with by watering them down, turning Jesus into a nice man with great ideals but not much realism about how to get along in the world. When he warns us about money we think he's exaggerating, when he tells us to drop everything and follow him, we're sure he forgot to take our jobs and our families into consideration. When he talks about loving neighbors, we are sure he wouldn’t have said it if he’s met our neighbors. When he tells us to turn the other cheek, we're convinced he never had a good look at the size of our opponent. When he asks us not to judge others, we can't help but point out anyway a few who don't meet God's standards, and when he talks about feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting the sick, we're finally sure he's speaking metaphorically and not literally. We have to ask ourselves: are we ready for the good wine? Do we really want to be filled to the brim with such potent stuff? Isn't the watered down version actually a little easier to swallow?

On this special Sunday, we celebrate the birthday – and life – of Martin Luther King, Jr. Just as we often try to 'water down' the message of Jesus, we have also tried to water down the message of this radical man as well, making him more acceptable to our ears and our consciences. In recent years, for instance, clips of King have been used in commercials for the YMCA, for soda companies, insurance companies, Apple computers, a communications company, and even Cingular cell phone company, to promote their products. Is this his legacy? The poet Carl Wendell Himes, Jr., aptly and eloquently put into words this dilemma of watering down, writing: "Now that he is safely dead / Let us praise him / build monuments to his glory / sing hosannas to his name. / Dead men make / such convenient heroes: They cannot rise / to challenge the images / we would fashion from their lives. / And besides, / it is easier to build monuments / than to make a better world." (1)

Civil Rights activist Vincent Harding speaks similarly, "We must reclaim Martin precisely because the times demand it. As the bombs fall, as the poor cry out in greater numbers, as the earth convulses beneath the weight of global economic power, we must attend to the words and the life of this prophet among us. If we are content with little more than a vision of Black and White children holding hands . . . If we settle for a tamed version of Martin King as a moderate integrationist, we will fall prey to cynicism and despair, and we'll lack the imagination and social inventiveness necessary in genuine social struggle." (2) If you really examine the life and work of Martin Luther King, Jr., you hardly find someone who everyone liked, someone who everyone agreed with, who didn't ruffle any feathers. He talked the talk, and walked the walk. His dream wasn't just words for the future - it was a plan of action he followed right then. He wrote, "I choose to identify with the underprivileged. I choose to identify with the poor. I choose to give my life for the hungry. I choose to give my life for those who have been left out of the sunlight of opportunity. I choose to live for and with those who find themselves seeing life as a long and desolate corridor with no exit sign. This is the way I'm going. If it means suffering a little bit, I'm going that way. If it means sacrificing, I'm going that way. If it means dying for them, I'm going that way, because I heard a voice saying, 'Do something for others.'" (1)

On this day that we read about Christ changing water into wine, and on this day that we remember the man Martin Luther King, Jr., let us not settle for something less than the gospel demands of us. Let us not reduce the gospel to a gift book of cute phrases to live by - perhaps another collection of heart-warming Chicken Soup for the Soul stories. Jesus’ teachings are so much more than that - they demand much more of us, and they reward us much more deeply, in more long-lasting ways. If we allow it, God fills us with good wine – Paul's letter to the Corinthians talks about the contents of our vessels - the gifts that each of us has, of wisdom, knowledge, prophecy, healing, faith, and much more. What's next is to pour ourselves out for others, pour ourselves out in service and sacrifice, pour ourselves out with boldness, knowing that God is filling us up as fast as we’re pouring ourselves out. The choice is ours: water or wine, empty, or filled to the brim, cheap substitutes, or the demanding and rewarding gospel of Jesus Christ. Do you want to be filled? Amen.

(1) As quoted by Vincent Harding, in The Other Side, http://www.theotherside.org/archive/jan-feb03/harding_print.html

(2) Vincent Harding, in The Other Side, http://www.theotherside.org/archive/jan-feb03/harding_print.html

Link: Our World News Methodism founder inspires Christian vegetarians - UMC.org

Of course, I had to share this link:

Our World News Methodism founder inspires Christian vegetarians - UMC.org

Every Member

This year, one of my resolutions is to visit every (local) member and constituent in my congregation. My hope is to spend some time talking about each person's relationship with the church (How did they start attending? Why? What have they been involved in?), and also talking about visions/hopes/dreams for the church in the months/years ahead.

If you had the opportunity to speak with every member of your congregation, what questions would you ask, and why?

Sermon for Baptism of the Lord Sunday, "Filled: With Expectation"

Sermon 1/10/10, Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Filled: With Expectation

Today, we find ourselves turning back to a part of a text we studied during Advent – a scene with the people gathering before John the Baptist, preparing to be baptized. Earlier in this chapter, John preached to the crowds about bearing fruits worthy of repentance. He called them a brood of vipers, and instructed them in ways of living that would prepare them to be good fruit. And today, we pick up with the tail end of his comments. We read that the people are filled with expectation, and they are wondering if John is the Messiah. But John says, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Then, suddenly, we read: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized . . .” Only, the passage doesn’t tell us anything about Jesus coming to be baptized. No verses of conversation with John. No explanation of why Jesus would need to be baptized. Just, “When Jesus also had been baptized . . .” Here in Luke we read that after the baptism, while Jesus was praying, heaven opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him like a dove, and a voice came from heaven saying, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the other three gospels give us a little more detail, though all four accounts together are hardly ten frustratingly short verses total. This is an important scene – Jesus’ baptism is one of a few events recorded in all four gospels. But it raises for us some important questions. If John was urging people to be baptized as an act of repentance, if he meant people to come to him to receive a symbol of forgiveness for sins – why was Jesus there? Why did Jesus need to be baptized at all? Surely Jesus didn’t need repentance, or forgiveness, right? So what is this scene all about?

In our United Methodist and Presbyterian traditions, we practice infant baptism. As long as churches have existed, those within the church have disagreed on whether or not infants and children should be baptized, or if individuals should wait until they are old enough to be baptized at their own request before receiving the sacrament. Our belief, though, is that baptism is primarily a symbol of what God is doing for us, not what we are doing for God. Baptism, as we understand it, is an outward symbol of God’s grace working within us. So this grace is working in us before we are even aware of it. From day one and before day one, God is already working grace through our hearts and souls, calling us into a relationship with God. When we are ready to accept God’s grace on our own, with our own voice, we go through confirmation, our public acceptance of the grace that has been at work within us, our public declaration that we’re going to do our part in this relationship with God.

This understanding of baptism as a symbol of God’s grace helps answer our questions about why Jesus comes here to see John, to be baptized. Why does Jesus need to be baptized? He doesn’t need to repent in the same way we do, but as I’ve mentioned, “to repent,” in its literal meaning, means to turn around, to turn back, to go a new direction – God’s direction. Jesus doesn’t need to turn a new direction in the same way we do – he doesn’t need to get off a wayward course. But his baptism does mark a change in direction for him, in that now he begins his ministry of preaching and teaching. Now he changes his identity from Jesus, child of Mary and Joseph, to Jesus, Son of Man and Son of God.

I think that Jesus, like the crowds, was filled with expectation and anticipation. He was about to make a huge change in his life. For thirty years, we have virtually no accounts of what Jesus was doing, what his life was about, what he said, who he spoke with. Apparently the gospel writers did not consider any of this significant, because it seems that the tasks Jesus was about, the preaching and teaching he had to do, the road to Jerusalem he had to take – all of this was to happen in such a short period of time. His baptism represents the beginning, and Jesus himself seems to see it as the starting point. So I believe that when Jesus came to be baptized by his cousin, though he may not have come to repent, he was certainly coming to mark a change in direction – a beginning. He was setting into motion a course of action for his life where there would be no turning back. No un-doing it. Here, Jesus was signaling he was fully ready to follow God’s call, God’s claim on his life. No doubt he was filled with expectation. And as he comes to the waters, as he makes this commitment through baptism, he hears God’s voice: “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.” There, at the start, Jesus has an affirmation, a reminder, a confirmation of what he knows – he is God’s beloved, and God is well-pleased with him. With this heaven-opening proof of God’s love for him, surely Jesus is ready to begin his ministry with all the certainty he needs that God is with him, in him, and working through him in everything he will face over the next three years.

What stands out to me when I hear God’s words to Jesus in this text is that God is already well-pleased with Jesus. It’s a pre-existing condition, you might say. Jesus is at the start of his ministry. He’s about to do a lot of wonderful things. But he hasn’t begun yet. But these words from God don’t come at the end of Jesus’ journey. They don’t come during Jesus’ arrest and trial and crucifixion. They come at the beginning. At the start. Something that is already true. God is already well-pleased with Jesus, Jesus is already God’s beloved – just because. Because Jesus is the child of God.

And that is what we celebrate in our baptism. It’s symbol, a sign, a reminder, a way God speaks to us and says, “You are my child, my beloved, with you I am well-pleased.” Maybe our relationship with God, our parent-child relationship with God is different than how Jesus related to the one he calls Abba – but some things are just the same. God’s love for us is a pre-existing condition. It is an unshakable reality for us at the beginning of our days, not something God says to us only at the end, after determining whether we’ve measured up for not. We are God’s, beloved. With us, God is well-pleased, simply because of love for us. Simply because God created us. Already, God loves us.

We are just a few days in to a brand new year. Last week, I mentioned that I still like making resolutions, when many don’t, because I think resolutions are sign that we have hope that with God’s help, we can change, we can do new things, we can change behaviors, even change our world. I hope, ten days in, you are still filled with hope and expectation, anticipation, when you think about what 2010 will hold. I wonder, and have many hopes for my own life this year, and the ways I might deepen my discipleship, strengthen my response to God’s calling. And I definitely have hopes, expectations, anticipation when I think about our year ahead together as this small part of the body of Christ. I hope you do as well. And I hope you have, like I have, faith, that God can do in us what we can hardly imagine. But to believe that, to have that faith, to have expectations that are grounded in God, we have to get things in the right order. Don’t spend this year, or any time, trying to have the will-power, the strength, the energy to fulfill your expectations so that you can live up to God’s expectations of you and be showered in God’s love. Instead, remember – already God loves us. And from God’s love, we find the power and strength to exceed all our expectations, always living in God’s love.

Today, we will celebrate a reaffirmation of our baptismal vows. Today, you have an opportunity to remember, if you’ve forgotten, the love that God has for you. You have an opportunity to remind yourself that you are God’s child, that God pours grace upon grace out into your life, and into your heart. You have an opportunity to commit yourself again to God’s plan for your life. You have an opportunity for a beginning, a change of direction, a parting of the heavens as God smiles upon you to remind you that you are Beloved. May God’s love bless you today, this year, and always. Amen.

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Until Next Time"

Sermon 1/3/10, Matthew 2:1-12

Until Next Time

Today is Epiphany Sunday, and it marks for us the change between the Season of Christmas and the transitional season after Epiphany that marks time until Lent begins in late February. Epiphany day is technically January 6^th – 12 days after Christmas – making today technically the 9^th day of Christmas. But we celebrate the Epiphany on the closest Sunday before January 6^th when it doesn’t fall on a Sunday. Epiphany is the day we remember the arrival of the Wise Men or Magi, men from the East from a sort of priestly class, men whose religious practices included an interest in astronomy, to see the Christ-child. The Wise Men visit Mary and Joseph and the child sometime after Jesus is born – he was maybe already a toddler by the time they arrived at his home, even though we see many Magi in nativities. They brought gifts for the child, believing he would be a king – gold and frankincense and myrrh. Gold for a king, frankincense for priestly significance, myrrh, a perfume used at death in burial rites. There’s no mention of a number of Magi – some traditional stories numbered them anywhere between two and twelve. (1) But over time, of course, we’ve come to think of there being three Wise Men, perhaps because three gifts are mentioned and it seems to work out so nicely.

The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” Epiphany, in our faith context, is a day when we think of the light of Christ shining forth in the world – Christ coming to light. It’s particularly of note that since the Magi weren’t Jews, their visit to Jesus, recognizing him as a king, symbolizes that Jesus in the light of the whole world, not just of the then-very-small Jewish faith. Jesus comes to be light for the world – that’s what we’re celebrating on Epiphany Sunday. Jesus is the light of the world, and because Jesus is the light, he expects us to be lights to the world also, when we let Christ shine through us, and be reflected out from us to others. Christ is the light, and because he is, we are also called to share the light of the world ourselves.

It is the gift to us of Jesus, the light of the world, that we celebrate on Epiphany. The present given to us by God – God come to us in human form. We think a lot about gifts – what we’re giving and what we’re getting during the Christmas Season. But the gift at the center of it all is the gift to us of God-with-us in the Christ-child. I hope we try to let that sink in, even at this late hour, this ninth day of Christmas. It isn’t too late for us to remember what the most important gift is. On Christmas Eve, when I was talking about the Magi, I mentioned that so many of our songs talk about the gifts of Christmas – not just the gift to us of the Christ-child, but songs that are about the gifts that we bring to the Christ-child. Like we are lights to the world because Christ is the light, so, it seems, we bring gifts to the Christ-child out of response to the gift of Christ that God gives to us.

Of course, there’s “We Three Kings,” which we will sing in just a bit. The hymn focuses in each of the three middle verses on the particular gifts that the Magi bring with them, as a verse each describes the reasons behind the gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But there are many others. So many of our carols feature a longing desire to be able to return some sort of gift to Jesus. Of course, the Magi bring gifts – maybe gifts a bit out of our league. But there’s also “The Little Drummer Boy.” This song features a little boy who sings that he is poor like Jesus too, with no gift fit to bring for a king. But he decides to play his drum for Jesus, and Mary nods in appreciation and the baby smiles at him. There’s “The Friendly Beasts,” which we sang at one of our Christmas Eve services, where each of the animals at the manger makes claim of a gift they’ve offered to Jesus: hay, the manger trough, a cooing lullaby, wool for a blanket, a ride to Bethlehem for the Holy Family. “In the Bleak Mid-winter” features a verse that reads, “What shall I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would give a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part? But what I shall give him: Give my heart.” Or the Spanish carol, “What Shall I Give to the Child in the Manger?” which talks about bringing grapes and fig leaves and garlands to the baby Jesus. We receive the gift of the Christ-child, and through the years, through centuries of music, across continents, our songs seem to reflect our human response, a desire to return a gift to the baby Jesus, despite feeling that we might not have much to give. In most all of these songs, the narrator wonders if they have something worth giving – and in most all of these songs, the gift given to the Christ-child is something personal, meaningful, from the heart, of special significance to the giver, a gift that only he or she can offer. As appropriate as the exotic gifts of the Magi are for these strange figures from unknown lands, so only the drummer boy can give his drumming song, and so only the donkey can bring Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem. The gift to us is personal – literally, God-in-person, and so the gifts given in response are personal – something of ourselves for the baby Jesus.

This makes a lot of sense to me. I love receiving gifts – I won’t deny it! Through high school, okay, college even, I used to tell everyone when my birthday was, how many days away it was, and give helpful suggestions for presents. But I also truly love giving gifts! And some of the most fun I have with gifts is giving them to my nephew, Sam. In fact, it seems to be a problem for the whole family. My brother and sister-in-law try, regularly, to prevent my family from getting too much for Sam. I’ve never seen my grandmother move faster than when she seemed to be racing my Great Aunt to get a present into Sam’s hands. I’m afraid that he sometimes says now, on greeting you for a visit, “What did you bring me?” It’s a problem.

And what I’ve noticed about the gifts we give Sam is that most of the time, they represent something of us to Sam. My brother Tim gets Sam Yankees gear. Todd got Sam t-shirt that says “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” a line from Macbeth. This year I got Sam a book while I was at the Grand Canyon. Sam got a guitar this year from his great uncle, so that he can play like daddy does. Mom’s given Sam many items that say “Grandma” on them, or given him toys that remind her of her own children growing up. We all want to give a bit of ourselves to Sam it seems, to give the best of us, our favorite things, our passions, to Sam, so that he’ll love what we love, and know how much we love him!

I think it is meant to be the same for us when we think about Jesus, the Christ-child, the Savior. What do we have to give? What will we give to this child in the manger? What gifts do we come bearing today? Well – what are your passions? What brings you joy? What do you love doing? What do you do well? What motivates you? What gets you excited? For each one of us, we can answer these questions in different ways. We’re unique creations, uniquely gifted. But make no mistake, we can all answer these questions. Sometimes we don’t see ourselves as gifted. But I’m afraid that failing to see the gifts in ourselves can only lead to believing that God has somehow passed us over in creating us uniquely and purposefully. And as I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m not willing to go there.

So if we’re gifted, it is from these gifts that we can find something to return to the Christ-child. What can we bring him? Or course, we give a bit of ourselves, just like my family seeks to give ourselves to Sam. We bring our best, our favorite things, our passions. For some, that means sharing gifts of music – singing, instruments. For others, that means crunching numbers – caring for the financial health of our congregation behind the scenes. Some of you share the gift of education – teaching our children, our youth, and our adults, and helping them grown in faith. Some of you have a passion for generosity – we celebrate about 30 families increasing their pledge to the church this year, and we celebrate such giving to our food baskets that we hand out that I had one recipient tell me she hasn’t seen her cupboards that full in a long, long time. You share your gifts for leadership, as many of you are preparing even now to step into new roles on our Parish Council and committees. And there are so many other ways you have and can choose to use your gifts to serve God. And we do it, we give, to say to God that we love God as God loves us. Truly, this season really is about gifts – giving and receiving – a gift for us that is priceless, and gifts from us that are unique and from our very hearts, from us, who we are.

We’re at the start of New Year. I know some people don’t like to make resolutions, but to me, resolutions are just signs that we have hope, just signs that we believe, despite our past mistakes, that we can do something different, something new, with the time and life that we’ve been given. And I always want to have that kind of hope. So this year, I’m asking you to make an easy resolution: Make this a year when you resolve to give gifts, give abundantly, give of yourself, and give out of love. What will you give to the Christ-child? Amen.

Sermon for Christmas Eve, "This Time"

Sermon 12/24/09, Luke 2:1-20

This Time

All Advent, we’ve been talking about time – The Time is Near. The Time In-Between. Time’s Up. In the Fullness of Time. And now, at last, the time really is here, the time that we’ve been waiting for, counting down to, preparing for, some calmly, others frantically. But however we got here, now the time is here. This is the time. And so that is our theme tonight – This Time. Luke seems to be right on program. He is so careful to pinpoint the time at which things happen in his gospels. He gives a little context. Because, after all, we might talk about the date when something happened – 1991, but then find it more helpful to remind our listener of the context – you know, when the elder George Bush was president and Iraq invaded Kuwait. Some context, to make sure our listener knows what we’re talking about. And so here, as he does elsewhere in his gospel, Luke describes exactly when these events are taking place. “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered,” he says, and continues, “This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.”

What follows in the Christmas story that we love and know so well, both here in Luke, and in other pieces of the story that we know in Matthew, is a description of what everyone involved did in those days, in that time, in response to the birth of the baby Jesus. We have an unseen innkeeper and all the guests at the inn who did have a place to sleep. No doubt the innkeeper and the guests had no idea who was being turned away. The innkeeper was just doing his job. But can you imagine such a miracle happening so close by to you, and simply missing it altogether? Going on with everyday things while the Christ-child was being born just outside your doors? We have the shepherds, a group of men who lived on the fringes of society, who literally kept company with more animals than they did people. They were an uneducated lot who didn’t get to be a part of regular society very often. It was to them that God’s messengers, the angels, appeared. They were naturally terrified when the angel appeared to them – but they took the angels at their word and quickly went to witness the miracle taking place. Later there were Wisemen from the East, who would journey over great distances to see the baby, a child not of their own race or culture, a child they really knew nothing about, but who they believed to be a king. They risked their lives to seek information from King Herod and avoid giving him answers about what they’d found. They gave gifts of great value to the baby Jesus. There’s Herod, who was so threatened by the possibility of what this child could be, that he would willingly take the lives of so many innocents just to protect himself. In that time, Herod’s position and power was all the mattered to him, and he certainly wasn’t interested in any plans God had for the baby Jesus except to make sure they didn’t impact Herod. There’s Joseph. Joseph had so many opportunities to run from Mary and this child he surely couldn’t understand. But his dreams and visions led him to believe that God was using Mary, that this child was something special, and that God even had a plan, a purpose, for Joseph himself. And so Joseph trusted in God’s plans, and did what was right, but difficult. And then there is Mary. We forget how young she was – probably just a young teen. And yet she responded so quickly, so immediately, to the news that she would bear a child, with faith, trust, and joy at how God was working in her life. Here, on this night of nights when she gives birth, we read that “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Surely Mary shows a special wisdom. That’s our cast of characters in Jesus’ birth – those who were near to the child that was born to be God-with-us, Emmanuel.

But Luke describes to us those days, that time, when Christ was born. Today it is this time. We celebrate Christmas every year, not just as a remembrance of a past event, but as a celebration of something that is true and new to us over and over. Jesus is called Emmanuel, which means, “God with us” – and that is always a present-tense description. Not God was with us. Not God used to be with us, or God was with them. But God with us. Now. You and me. God is with us now, and always. Today. Not only in those days, but now, in these days, today, Christmas 2009. The question becomes then, what are we doing now, in these days, in this time, because of the birth of the holy child, the presence of God-with-us in our lives? How will you respond to God’s presence? As we hear the Christmas story, where are we? Who do we resonate with? Whose behavior best describes how we will react when God again tries to break into our lives with love and grace?

I fear that sometimes we are like the innkeeper, or the hotel guests. God is doing something wonderful right in our presence but we’re too busy with our everyday lives and routines and plans to notice what’s happening. As we’ve been thinking about time, I’ve been all to aware of how easily days and weeks, then months and ever years can slip by us. Have we really been paying attention? Have we really been noticing our world? Our neighbors? The people in our lives as the days go by? Have we really been seeing what’s happening all around us? If God took up residence next door to us, would we notice?

I hope that we can skip over emulating King Herod. We certainly know he’s the villain of the story. But before we write him off as someone we know we’re not like, we’d better double check. Probably we don’t have the same murderous intents as Herod did, but sometimes I do think we have a hard time letting go of our own power. We all have power, in one arena of our lives or another. Herod wasn’t able to let go of his in order to let God’s vision for all people flourish. When do we need to give up some of our power, our positions, our status, our places, in order to make room for others? In order to make room for God?

Perhaps, instead, we can be like the Wise Men. They travelled a long way to find the Christ-child, and laid at his feet things that they deemed most precious. How much energy are you willing to put into seeking purpose? Out of so many blessings, what are you ready to offer before the Christ-child? So many of our songs of the season talk about bringing our gifts to Jesus. This time, this Christmas, will you offer to serve God not with half-efforts and feeble attempts, but with your best?

Maybe this time, this Christmas, we can find some shepherds in our midst. They were the ones on the fringes, but God drew them right into the center of the story. Who is on the fringes in our society this Christmas? Who isn’t inside these walls tonight? Who won’t be a part of celebrations tomorrow? Who does God see that we overlook? This time, let us start seeing with God’s eyes.

Maybe we have some Josephs here. Maybe you see a path of following God that is hard and challenging, even risky and scary. And maybe you know you could make things easier on yourself and choose a different way. Joseph chose the harder way, a way of faith, and a way that brought him abundant life. This time, this Christmas, will you be challenged? Will you take risks? Will you follow God even when you don’t understand why or how God will act?

And maybe we have some Marys here too. Mary treasured and pondered. She took it all in. She was soaking up every bit of the experience. From the instant Gabriel visited her, through her meeting with her cousin Elizabeth, through the birth of her son, Mary treasured and pondered what God was doing. This time, this Christmas, I hope you treasure every precious moment. Soak up every bit of God’s love moving in your life. Ponder God-with-us, and the new life, the hope, the possibilities, present in this tiny newborn babe.

We tell the story over and over again – we know how they reacted, how they responded, in that time, in those days. What will you do in this time?

Amen.

Sermon for Fourth Sunday of Advent, "In the Fullness of Time"

Sermon 12/20/09, Luke 1:39-55

In the Fullness of Time

When my older brother was a freshman in college, I had a really hard time adjusting to all the changes happening in his life. I was a 7^th grader at the time, and my brother was a philosophy major, who was suddenly enlightened, and would come home and try to engage me in debate about the meaning of life – or the lack thereof, depending on my perspective or his! He was just too much to take – Jim, and the sudden epiphanies of understanding that he wanted to share with us. Six years later, when I started college myself, I somehow didn’t see the same behavior in myself, when I actually took to photocopying pages of my freshman Christian Ethics textbook and sending them home to my mother and pastor. It was just that I was reading about things I was pretty sure no one else had really thought about before, and my mind was expanding with the fascination of this new knowledge. I still remember vividly one of the first things I learned about – the theological concepts of time – chronos and kairos – and sending home highlighted pages of my text book to explain this all to my pastor, who very graciously did not laugh at me.

All these years later, I still love these concepts though. Chronos is the Greek word for our regular, ordinary, everyday time. Our human time. The seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days moving just as they do. But kairos – kairos is time in a different way. Kairos is God’s time – specifically, “God’s right time for action.” Usually the word “chronos” is used in Greek texts to talk about time. But in the gospels, this “kairos” – God’s right time for action – is used more often than chronos – regular time. And that makes sense, because the scriptures are full of stories about God’s right time for things to happen.

This Advent, we’re talking about time. We’ve talked about the time of God’s kingdom drawing near. We’ve talked about what to do in the time in between. We’ve talked about John’s urgency for our repentance, his message of “time’s up.” And certainly, as Christmas draws ever closer, but we hover here at the Fourth Sunday of Advent, we’re thinking about time. Christmas is just 5 days away. It seems like we were just lighting the first Advent Candle. Really, it seems like we were just starting back-to-school! But already, Christmas is upon us. And so, we are very aware of time, and how it passes, quickly and slowly all at once, at this time of the year. But this week in particular, we are talking about the fullness of time.

When we’re talking about God’s right time, the fullness of time in which God moves and acts in our lives, I think about all the images in scripture that describe us as vessels – alabaster jars, clay pots, these vessels that are waiting to be filled up by God. And there are images too that talk about being filled to the brim – I think that is God’s aim for us – to fill our lives to the very brim. But sometimes God is filling us with a gushing hose, and sometimes God is filling us drip by drop. What is God’s right time for action?

Think of how many things have to happen in just the right time. I love to bake, and I just recently baked probably a couple thousand cookies, between cookies for my family, cookies to mail to friends, and cookies for our cookie walk yesterday. I’m in a new apartment this year, with a new oven to get used to, and I certainly had some adjustment difficulties in my baking. I couldn’t figure out just the right amount of time to bake batches of cookies. You know that most recipes call for things to be baked for a range of time – something like 6-8 minutes for a tray of cookies. But sometimes the difference between the 6 and the 8 means the difference between doughy undercooked cookies and burnt-to-a-crisp cookies. They have to be baked for just the right, perfect amount of time to turn out the way you want them. Think of fruit that has to be ripe to eat and enjoy to the fullest. Fruit eaten a few days too early just doesn’t have the right flavor or consistency. Fruit past its prime can quickly turn squishy and bad. You have just a small window that is the right time for truly fresh fruit.

I’ve been thinking about time and how the ‘right time’ plays into events in the course of our history too. Next month we’ll celebrate Martin Luther King Day, and I’ve been thinking about time and the Civil Rights Movement. Dr. King was especially frustrated with his white clergy colleagues, because they kept telling him he shouldn’t push so hard, so fast for change. They wanted to wait, to go more slowly, to take things baby step by baby step. But King knew that the time was right just then – the time was now – the time was full and ready and just right for major change to transform the United States. It was certainly God’s right time for action – just the right time for God to act.

Today, our gospel lesson brings us an encounter between two women who might have questioned God’s sense of timing in their lives. We have Elizabeth, who the Bible describes as “getting on in years,” and barren, conditions that make her husband even doubt the angel Gabriel when he tells him Elizabeth will bear a son, and she is here several months pregnant with a child we know will be John the Baptist. And we have Mary – probably a 13 or 14 year old, who is engaged, but not yet married, also suddenly found to be with child – the child Jesus. These two women could have, might have, wondered about God’s timing in their lives. Why couldn’t Elizabeth have become pregnant 20 years earlier? Would it have made a difference if John were 20 years instead of a few months older than Jesus? Why couldn’t Mary have become pregnant after marrying Joseph? For a young unwed woman in Mary’s day to be found pregnant could carry the penalty of death by stoning. Why put Mary at such a risk?

Beyond Mary and Elizabeth themselves, the whole people Israel might have wondered at God’s timing. They’d been waiting for the messiah for literally hundreds of years. The prophet Isaiah wrote some 500 years before Jesus’ birth. Micah, whose words we heard in our Call to Worship this morning, is an even older voice – more than 700 years ago he wrote the words describing one who would be “the one of peace.” The people had been through war and destruction of their temple. They’d been through exile from their home. They’d been through foreign occupation of their holy lands – more than once. They were longing, waiting, and hoping for a messiah. Not everyone, to be sure. But there was a deep sense of need, of waiting for God’s promises to be fulfilled. Why was it so long for them to wait? And why then did God come in Jesus when he did? Why not come in 2009 when you could easily spread the gospel message with a text message and an email, rather than with the burden of oral tradition, travel by foot, and following a star in the sky to figure out where this new child might be?

It is sometimes very hard for us to understand God’s sense of timing – God’s right time to act – when we wish God would move faster, or God would move slower, or that God would stop time or skip over certain times in our lives altogether. But as people of faith, our hope and trust is in knowing the story of a God who always fulfills the promises made to us, even when we aren’t so good with keeping up our end of the covenant. I love the verses from our gospel lesson today – Elizabeth and Mary find God acting in their lives at what could be called inconvenient times. But they respond with joy. In fact, Mary bursts into song, singing words that we today call the Magnificat, words that we sang in our hymn just before the sermon – “My soul magnifies the Lord.” God moves at just the right time, and Mary rejoices.

And I find myself dwelling on one verse in our passage: "And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord." These are words that Elizabeth speaks to Mary. She tells her that Mary is blessed because she has faith that what God has promised will come to pass. Of course, Mary has faith that as the angel told her, she will bear a child. But it's not just any child, so it's also not just any promise. Mary has to believe – more than just her own story – she also has to believe that in her, in her life, God's promise of a messiah will be fulfilled as well, God's promise to a whole people, God's promise of centuries upon centuries, God's promise that was written about by countless prophets. All this will be fulfilled in this right time, in this child that Mary is carrying, as incredible as it sounds. Most incredible of all, Elizabeth rightly recognizes, is that Mary believes what the angel told her - Mary believes that God is using her to fulfill these wonderful promises.

Mary believed that a promise made long ago would be fulfilled in her, as much as the prophets of long ago had to believe that the promise of a messiah would be fulfilled even though they would never see it in their lifetime. This kind of faith to me is remarkable. The truth is, though many of us believe in God's promises, we have a hard time waiting a week, a month, or heaven forbid, a year, for God's plans for us to be fulfilled, for the promises to come to fruition. How could we wait our whole lives and see no response, but still have faith and trust that God's plans would hold their course through our children or grandchildren's lives, or their grandchildren's lives? If God promised that great things would be done through us, through me, through you, but that we would never see any evidence of this promise coming true, could we maintain our faith?

We are a people so bound by time – we live by clocks and schedules and timers and alarms. We’re not so good at waiting. It all sounds like an impossible task, and yet, in a way, this is what the entire account of our scriptures is all about - the promises of God and how, over generations, through time, in God’s time, they came to be fulfilled. The stories of the ones who faithfully did their part to make God's plan take place, even though they would never see the results. This is the story of faith, the story of God's children. Our story. We read about the promise made to Noah, sealed with the sign of the rainbow. We hear about the promise to Abraham to make his descendents fill the lands. We listen to the story of Moses, who was told of a promised land where he could lead the Israelites. They didn't always find their promises from God completed in ways they could see - Moses himself died before the Israelites entered the promised land. But they remained faithful, and so did God, completing in God's right time all things promised.

And so it is with Advent. Advent is a promise, a promise made for centuries upon centuries. For hundreds of years, people mulled over the words of the prophets, words about a child being born that would be the one of peace, words about a young women that would bear the promised one. They heard these words and believed. But finally, finally, after so much waiting, after the longest advent, the longest coming, after the ultimate buildup of anticipation, finally the child was born. God became human and dwelt among us. We stand on those promises. We stand hovering at the top of the roller coaster. Before we take the plunge and feel the joy of the celebration of Christmas, let us take a deep breath. In a few days, God's promise will be fulfilled in our very midst. Our forefathers and foremothers waited for generations, and we are lucky enough to see the promise fulfilled year after year. Take a breath. Get ready. Believe in the fulfillment of what God has planned for you, for us, for this very time, and stand firmly on the promises of God. Amen.

Sermon for Third Sunday of Advent, "Time's Up"

Sermon 12/13/09, Luke 3:7-18

Time’s Up

Perhaps by now you are wondering if Advent will ever bring a text that sounds like we’re preparing for the baby Jesus. After all, we started out with Jesus talking about the signs of the times, and images of disaster. Last week things sounded a little more advent-y, but really we were talking about a grown-up John the Baptist. And now, this week, we get more John, only this time he’s yelling about broods of vipers, fleeing from the coming wrath, and how Jesus is going to be throwing things into an unquenchable fire. Can John really be preparing people for Jesus, born a sweet babe, prince of peace, tender and mild?

Our text picks up where it left of last week, and if our question last week was, “What are we waiting for?” today there is no missing the urgency in John’s tone. Crowds are coming out to him to be baptized. But he’s not exactly warm and welcoming when he sees them: “You brood of vipers!” he hells. “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance.” He goes on to say that the crowds should next expect to rely on their Judaism, their families, their history, their cultural identity, to give them a free pass from responsibility. “Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” In other words, yes, God has had a special relationship with the people Israel. But that doesn’t give you the freedom to do anything you want. You still have to hold up your part of the relationship. John continues forebodingly: “Eve now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

John obviously catches the attention of his audience – they begin asking him what they should do. He replies to them, to tax collectors, to soldiers – whoever has two cloaks must share, whoever has food must share, whoever has power , whoever has money must be fair and just. The people are filled with expectation at John’s words, and they wonder whether John himself might not be the messiah they are waiting for. But he insists he is not: “I am not worthy to untie his sandals,” John says. But, he leaves them, and us, with a compelling images of the messiah. “His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” A winnowing folk was a farming tool used to toss wheat into the air, so that the wind would catch the good grain and separate it from the useless chaff. Our passage concludes, “So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.”

Is what John is saying “Good News?” There’s such an underlying tone of threat, between the vipers, the ax, and the winnowing fork – it hardly makes us as eager for the messiah to come as John certainly was. But John is sharing with the crowds, with us, his vision of what the messiah will be. As I mentioned before, John will eventually have to send word to Jesus to find out if he really is the messiah, because Jesus certainly acted differently the John was expecting. John does see judgment, just as surely as Jesus comes with salvation. So John has a picture of the messiah that is his own – but the good news still comes because of the core of what John is preaching, as we read last week: Repentance for the forgiveness of sins. What John is preaching, at heart, is that all this preparation is for one who is coming who has the power to free us from the consequences of our sins, one who has the power to cancel out the results of our messes. And that, certainly, is good news.

What John does is tell us how we’re to prepare for this good news, and this messiah, no matter how this messiah exactly ends up coming. First, he says, it’s your responsibility and no one else’s – your behavior, and your relationship with God. Many of John’s hearers were lifelong Jews, raised in families that were “children of Abraham” for generation upon generation. They had rituals and laws and customs and practices that were all tied up in practicing their Judaism. But John is saying that none of that matters – not in terms of preparing for the messiah, not in terms of repentance and forgiveness, not in terms of being open to embracing the good news. What matters is whether or not each individual person is preparing for the messiah’s coming.

So it is for us. Preparing for God moving in your life is your responsibility and no one else’s. This year, we have a group of young confirmands going through a preparation process for becoming members of this congregation. But it’s also more than that – it’s a time – probably one of many steps in a process really – of taking a faith that has been a family faith – the faith of their parents or grandparents or other adults in their life – and determining whether or not it is a faith that is their very own. Because ultimately only they are responsible for what they believe, and how they life, and what they do with God’s call on their lives. We can help and assist and encourage. But the choice is theirs.

It’s not much different with us – attending church, serving on committees, claiming the title, “Christian” – these things can be expressions of our discipleship. But they don’t make us into discipleship, create our discipleship, or relieve us from the responsibility of discipleship. We can only be disciples by following Jesus, by following God’s path. There’s no substitutes, and the only one who can make you a disciple is you. And, by the same token, the only one you can make a disciple is you – no one can follow God for you, and you can’t follow God for anyone else. We encourage, we support, we work together. But you must decide, and act, or not, for you.

John also tells us that preparing for the messiah, preparing for this good news, is actually easy to understand, clear, and easy to do. That claim might surprise us. Discipleship is easy? But listen again to his responses to the crowds who wonder exactly what they’re supposed to be doing to prepare. John says, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” To the tax collector he says, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” To the soldier he says, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.” What John is describing isn’t hard to do. There’s nothing complicated about what he’s saying, nothing difficult to understand, is there?

Somehow, though, we manage to make it complicated. If John says that whoever has two coats must share one with the person who has none, we can’t seem to take it at face value. We wonder if it is fair that we have to give up one of our hard-earned coats. We wonder what the person without a coat did to end up that way. They must have been pretty foolish, or lazy, or ignorant to end up without a coat. And if we can be convinced to part with our second coat, we’d rather not have to give it to the person face-to-face. We’d like to set up a program for coat-giving, making sure that the person receiving the coat is properly credentialed, and making sure that we can get some sort of credit for giving the coat – a thank-you note, a tax write-off, a welcome-gift, something. Suddenly, giving away a coat to someone without one has become very time-consuming and complicated, and really, who has time for all that? Of course, I’m being a bit facetious – but my point is this: John is pretty clear about what we need to do to prepare our hearts for the messiah. And in fact, he’s not telling us anything we don’t already know, really. But if being a disciple feels complicated and hard, it’s because we’re making it so, because we’re not actually ready to commit, all out, to following God. “What then should we do?” we ask with the crowds. John has the answers for us – we just have to decide if we are ready to listen.

Finally, John tells us that whether or not we’ve actually prepared, repented, and changed our lives to follow God is something that is measurable. He says that essentially, what he’s looking for, what he thinks that the messiah is looking for, is that we are bearing fruit – a tangible result of our health, our growth, our nourishment, our discipleship. What do we have to show for ourselves? Are we full-grown wheat that is ready to be gathered in by the messiah? Do we have good fruit? What is the fruit of your life?

I’m terrible with proverbs. I never remember them correctly. I once asked my mother, all serious, why people said, “close, but no potato.” It made no sense to me. Of course, she explained that the saying is actually, “close, but no cigar,” and its origins. So I try to double-check on proverbs before I use them. You know the saying, “the proof is in the pudding?” Well, that’s actually a shortened version of the full proverb, which makes more sense. It’s actually "the proof of the pudding is in the eating." In other words, "the true value or quality of something can only be judged when it's put to use." (1) Have we prepared? Have we repented? Are we ready for the messiah to come? We can only know by putting our discipleship into action, by putting our repentance into action, by actually carrying out the words of promise that are easier to speak. John wants to see our fruit, and thinks that Jesus will want to see it too. Because if you witness people enjoying the delicious pudding, you’ll have no doubt that the pudding was very good. If you look at the fruit, you can tell something about the quality of the source of the fruit. And if you see discipleship in faithful action, you can get a look right into the good heart of the disciple. John calls us, as Jesus indeed will, to bear good fruit.

John was getting awfully anxious for the messiah to come. Time’s up – that’s the urgency, the energy of his message. Act now. Repent now. Bear fruit now. I think I’m just about ready too – ready to stop counting down, and start welcoming the messiah. Time’s up. Are you ready?

Amen.

1) Ask Yahoo!, http://ask.yahoo.com/ask/20020903.html

Sermon for Second Sunday of Advent, "The Time In-Between"

Sermon 12/6/09, Luke 3:1-6

The Time In-Between

As a child, I considered there to be two important seasons in my year. The season of Christmas, of course. And the season for summer camp. I grew up attending Camp Aldersgate every year – the counterpart to Casowasco, located in the foothills of the Adirondacks. I watched my big brother head to camp every summer with acute jealousy, until I was finally old enough to attend myself. I *loved* it, every part of it. I could attend camp for just one short week during each summer, until I was older and finally could afford to pay for a second week on my own, and eventually even work on staff. But as a child, all my longing for camping season was rewarded with one too-short week of camp. So I had to turn my energy, my love of camp, into something that would last me a little longer. Waiting for my week at camp was a period that lasted from sometime in late January all the way until the week itself in July or August. I didn’t wait idly. First, I waited for the camp brochure to arrive – usually in by the middle of February. I would scour the brochure for a few weeks, debating back and forth over which camp to attend. There were certainly fewer choices then than now, but I still occupied a lot of time choosing between swim camp and creative arts, an on-site camp or an adventure camp in the wilderness. Then, I would start making lists. I would make lists of what I needed to pack, focusing on what outfits to wear, complete with ideas on how to coordinate clothing, what shoes to go with said outfit, and of course, how to accessorize. By May, I was seriously already starting to pack. I would have a small bag or two in tucked away in my closet with items for camp already folded and sorted and ready to go. I would eventually do my shopping for camp, a sure sign that my waiting was almost over. And then, after the hour-long car ride that seemed like an eternity, I would finally be at camp again, for 6 short days, where lifelong friendships could be made in time that always seemed to short.

We’re talking about time, this Advent, and this week we’re thinking about “the time in-between.” If Christmas is what we’re waiting for, with the coming of the Christ-Child, what do we do with the time in-between now and then? We certainly must wait – we can’t make the time go any faster or slower than it will. But you can certainly spend the time in-between now and then in ways that will prepare you better (or not) for Jesus’ coming, that will enrich (or not) your experience of God at work in your lives this Christmas. So, how are we waiting? How are we preparing in this time in-between? How are you getting ready for Christmas?

When we talk about preparation in the church, preparation for Advent, preparation for the birth of the Christ-child, it turns out that this process of preparing isn't so different from the way we would prepare for the birth of a baby anyway. Think about all the things that you do to get ready for a child. Of course, we might immediately think of the baby showers, the diapers and the cribs and strollers and bibs that need to be purchased. But of course, we know that preparing for a baby involves much more than that. Those are just the surface matters, the material ways that we have to get ready for a baby to live in our midst.

At a deeper level, we have to prepare in other ways for a baby to come. Getting ready for a baby might require a change in lifestyle. If a parent smokes or drinks, these are habits that will probably change for the health of the child. A mother is more careful of what and how she eats, because what she does will affect the baby. The family must make sure that the home is ready for a baby, that the house and rooms are safe for someone who cannot judge for themselves, that there is a space, a room, for the newborn. The mother goes to the doctor to check and see how the baby is growing, if the baby is healthy. The family might outline an emergency plan, so that everything is ready when the moment comes. Parental leave must be arranged from work, child care plans are negotiated, health insurance is calculated. A family expecting a child has to determine how the finances will change once a new person is added to the household. Finally, more attention is given to another human life than is given to one's own life. All of these concerns have to be measured, planned, calculated, determined, well in advance of the actual birth of the child. They don't work out as well when planned last-minute. In between confirming a pregnancy and delivering a health baby, nine months of waiting take place. But it’s busy waiting, because the arriving newborn will depend completely and entirely on others for his or her very life.

In the same way, we can prepare for the Christ-child on many levels during this season of Advent. There are the surface things - and they are important, just as the basics of buying baby clothes are important. Our shopping, our parties, our caroling - these things truly are important for Christmas. We feel the community, the fellowship that comes from being together. We certainly don't shop only because we are consumers, but because we truly do love to give to others. These parts of preparing for Christmas aren't to be neglected. But like with a newborn, preparing for Christmas hopefully involves deeper levels, deeper life-changes if we are truly to be prepared, if we are truly to use the in-between time wisely.

John the Baptist, cousin to Jesus, wanted people to ready themselves for the coming of the Messiah. John wasn’t even sure himself who exactly the Messiah would be until he laid eyes on him, until he confirmed for himself that Jesus was the one. Later in the gospel, he even sends his disciples to Jesus while he is already in prison to make sure that Jesus is the one. But John believed the Messiah was coming, and believed that he needed to prepare for the arrival, and believed that others would need to prepare as well. John believed that preparation meant repentance – he called on people to repent and be forgiven for their sinfulness. He didn’t think people should just sit around waiting for the Messiah to show up – he believed that while they were waiting, people had some serious work to do. I’ve explained before that repentance means a changing of the direction of the mind – a turning around of your life so that you are leaving the path you are on and taking a new course, a new direction, that goes in the direction that God is going with you.

Repentance means we need to identify how we’re off course – identify our sinfulness – ask God for forgiveness from our sins – and get on the right path, no longer engaging in those actions or inactions that have led us on a different course than God. Sin has a pretty simple and clear but compelling definition –sin is being disobedient to God. When we disobey God, we’re sinning. That’s pretty simple, and perhaps we’re thinking that we know at least that much already. But I’m not sure we’re letting the magnitude of such a definition sink in.

If sinning is simply disobeying God, then that means that I sin every time I don’t do something God wants me to do. That makes sinfulness a lot more complicated then just breaking a standard list of thou-shall-nots. It means that if God is challenging us, calling us to go where we’re not ready to go, and we say no, or not right now, or I’ve got a different plan, we’re being sinful. And it means that sin for you and sin for me might not always look exactly the same. It means that the very same actions or inactions may not always have the same consequences for us. What is most sinful for me to do might be something very different than what is most sinful for you to do. That goes a little bit against our impulses as Americans who pride ourselves on our love of equality. It sounds awfully unfair to us at first, to think that God has different expectations for each one of us. But actually, I think it is a gift to us. God, who in love for us created each one of us as unique and precious individuals, this God takes the care to have specific hopes and dreams for each one of us. God knows us enough to want something special and specific for and from each one of us. So, what God wants from you and from me will never be exactly the same, just as what God gives to you and to me will never be exactly the same. What is the same is that God gives the same unconditional love to all of us, and hopes for the same complete commitment from all of us.

So John was calling for repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and Luke tells us that John called for repentance as a sign of preparation, as a way of getting ready for something that was about to happen – the coming of the Lord, the time when all people would see and experience God’s salvation. Advent is a time of preparation, and so it is a time for repentance. It is the perfect time for us to examine our lives, see where we have been sinful, disobedient, and commit to turning in God’s direction.

Christmas is just 19 days away now. What are you doing to prepare in-between now and then? Have any of you seen the movie Stranger Than Fiction? This movie is all about what you do in-between. The basic premise: Will Farrell plays a straight-laced IRS agent who finds that his life is being narrated by some voice, and the voice says his death is just around the corner. He tries to find the author and persuade her not to write his death. But when she doesn’t take him seriously, he starts to begin to live differently - in a way that the voice doesn't predict – while he is waiting for his predicted death to happen to him. The narration of his life makes him realize how mundane and unsatisfying his life has been so far, and he tries to outsmart the narration by living how he’s never lived before, living to the full. Once Farrell’s character changes what he’s doing in the time in-between, while waiting for his tragic end, he actually changes the direction his life is headed. The film has a basic message of 'carpe diem - seize the day.' Stop putting things off and start living the life you’ve been meaning to live now. It isn't necessarily a profound message or a new one, but I guess like all such life lessons, we need to keep hearing it until we're living it.

An article in Relevant magazine, a favorite of mine, a magazine for twenty/thirty-something Christians that I really enjoy – posed a similar challenge in an article that asked, "what are you waiting for until you really start you life?" What excuse do you keep putting out to yourself or to others that goes like this: "I'll get around to [the thing I'm really called to be doing/meant to be doing/passionate about/convicted about doing] as soon as [this other life thing happens/falls into place/gets settled.]" I'm very guilty of this. I'm very guilty of saying to myself that I'll start doing things the way I think I really should be after I go back to school someday, or once I have more money, or when things in my life feel more settled, or even just after the new year. The point is - what are you waiting for? This is it already - this is your life. It has already started, is already well underway, and if you keep waiting for the perfect time to act, your life will be well over before you get anywhere. If you are waiting for something to happen, consider that the time in-between now and then is just as important, can be just as life-changing, as whatever it is you are waiting for.

Advent is a time of preparation. The time to prepare is now because the coming of the Christ-Child is so very close – the kingdom of God is already near, already here! What other time are you planning to use to prepare? What are you waiting for to repent? How long will you travel down a road you know is not the road God’s calling you to before you will turn around? Or how long will you simply live at a stand-still, doing the same things in the same way, waiting for some day that’s never coming to get started doing what you’re really meant to be doing? Whatever you’re waiting for, in this in-between time, the message from John, the message of Advent is that the time is here already. Prepare now for God’s coming, because this is it.

In the first year of the Presidency of Barack Obama, when Paterson was governor of New York, and Schumer and Gillibrand were Senators, and when Danny Liedka was mayor of East Syracuse, during the time when Beth was pastor, the word of God came to the people of the First United Church. And they went out into all the regions, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Prepare the way of the Lord.

Amen.

Introverts Can Make the Best Leaders

Somewhere in my blog subscriptions I was led to this article by Jennifer B. Kahnweiler, "Why Introverts Can Make the Best Leaders." I can't for the life of me remember or find who wrote about it, so my apologies - please let me know if it was you!

As a pastor, I'm always fascinated by information about introverted leadership. Sometimes I envy my extroverted clergy colleagues and the ease they seem to have in settings which cause me such internal agony! But this article made me feel pretty good about ways in which I can and do use my introversion to my advantage in ministry.

(I'm posting this using Google Sidewiki for the first time - I'm hoping using it might help me actually blog again occasionally. We'll see!)

in reference to: http://www.forbes.com/2009/11/30/introverts-good-leaders-leadership-managing-personality.html (view on Google Sidewiki)

Sermon for First Sunday of Advent, "The Time is Near"

Sermon 11/29/09, Luke 21:25-36

The Time is Near

Lucky Charms used to be my very favorite cereal. All those yummy marshmallows! Tragically, I can’t eat Lucky Charms anymore, because marshmallows are made with gelatin, which I don’t eat. I’m still hopeful that eventually they’ll change their recipe. But until then, I can just reminisce. When I was little, I used to pick out and eat all the marshmallows first, and be left with all the regular old cereal. I just couldn’t help myself. But as I got older and matured as a cereal connoisseur, I reversed my order. I’d eat all the plain cereal first, and leave all the marshmallows for last, finishing with the very best part. And in fact, I even came to really enjoy all that plain cereal in its own right.

Sometimes, when I think about the season of Advent, the season of preparing and waiting for Christmas, I feel a bit the same way I used to feel about Lucky Charms. There have been times, especially when I was younger, where I just couldn’t make Christmas come quickly enough. The weeks of Advent seemed like an eternity. My childhood pastor stubbornly had us singing Advent hymns and I wanted to be singing Christmas Carols. The days until Christmas Vacation from school seemed endless. I wanted to hurry to the good part. Advent, all the waiting, was certainly not the good part. But as I’ve gotten older, as happens to most of us, I have a sense of time already going faster and faster on us, not going too slowly. Already, Christmas is just 26 days away, and Advent has only just begun! It goes too quickly, not too slowly. I want to savor this time. I want to enjoy the waiting and longing for Christmas. But I don’t want it to be Christmas until it is Christmas.

Are you in a hurry for Christmas to come? Or are you trying to slow things down, and savor the time? Hurrying, waiting. Rushing, slowing down. Anticipating, longing. This season, our theme for Advent is, “It’s About Time.” We’ll be thinking about exactly these issues – thinking about time and what this time of Advent means for us as people of faith for the next four weeks. And today, in particular, we’re thinking about the nearness of the appointed time. The time is near.

Today is the first Sunday of a new liturgical year in the church calendar. Our Christian year begins with Advent, and so we turn from the gospel of Mark to Luke’s gospel with our lesson today, a text that should catch our attention for sure. We find Jesus in the middle of a conversation about “the signs of the times” – he’s talking about signs in the sun, moon, and stars – distress on the earth, roaring seas, waves, shaken heavens, and then, the Son of Man coming with power and glory. When these things happen, Jesus says, “raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” He talks about knowing that summer is about to arrive when the fig trees sprout leaves. So to, he says, you will know that “the kingdom of God is near.” Finally, Jesus concludes, we should be on guard, so we’re not taken by surprise, not caught unexpectedly. “Be alert,” he says, “praying that you may have the strength to escape all these thing that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”

Why are we in such a hurry for Christmas to come? Or perhaps, the real question we have to ask ourselves is: Do we actually want this long-expected Jesus to come or not? Jesus talks about these signs happening to let us know that the kingdom of God is near. But it sounds a bit terrifying, doesn’t it? Maybe we want baby Jesus to come again – to hurry to the birth of the precious Christ Child. The cute baby in the nativity. Jesus who can’t exactly talk and preach to us yet. But are we really in a hurry for this coming of Christ that Luke describes? We like to think about the baby Jesus coming, meek and mild. That’s the Jesus we’re ready to hurry here. But what about this Jesus of Luke, who can’t seem to arrive without turning the world upside-down and creating chaos? Do we want and long for this Jesus to arrive? Is this the Christmas that is drawing near? And if so, why are we in such a hurry for Christmas to come?

To answer that question, we have to consider what exactly we believe is drawing near. And I think it comes down to a decision between judgment, and redemption. Do you believe that what is drawing near is judgment, or redemption? American culture today certainly has a clear answer. We believe – and also fear very much – that judgment is coming. Just look at yet another apocalyptic movie phenomenon right now – people have become obsessed with this idea that the Mayan calendar predicts the end of the world in 2012 – the title of the latest end-of-world flick. Thinking about the end of the world fills us with dread and fear – think of the atmosphere in 1999 when we stood on the verge of the year 2000, and many were stockpiling provisions for an anticipated apocalypse. We can’t read about these signs that Jesus is talking about without being filled with dread, fear, and anxiety. And so though Jesus spoke these words more than 2000 years ago, people have looked around them for all this time at the crazy things happening in the world and have said: surely these are the signs of the times. And they’ve been afraid. And the fear comes certainly in part from an end of what we know, but also of the link we place between the end of the things we know and the beginning of judgment for the things we’ve messed up so badly.

As people of faith, though, I wonder what has happened to us to think of Jesus’ drawing near to us as an occasion for fear and panic. The idea of the kingdom of God drawing close fills us with terror. But Jesus doesn’t speak about judgment in today’s passage. In fact, he even says that he wants us to be on guard so that we’re not weighed down with the worries of this life. Instead, he talks about redemption. To be redeemed is to be rescued, delivered, saved and set free. Jesus says, “When these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” The coming of the kingdom of God doesn’t mean punishment and judgment that is meant to harm us. God drawing close to us is to save us, to rescue us, to redeem us from the mess we’ve made. What is near is our salvation, not our condemnation.

This season, the Christmas carols you’ll hear mostly focus on the tiny baby Jesus, asleep in the manger bed. But our Advent hymns – they embrace this Jesus who comes preaching redemption – our redemption, the redemption of all the earth. “Come, thou long-expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.” The time is near – not for our end, not for destruction, not for judgment. The time is near because God is near to us – always. The time is near because the kingdom of God is in our midst – always. A Savior comes to us – a baby, yes, new life. But also the Prince of Peace. A precious child, and a strong champion of the down-trodden and oppressed. A helpless newborn, and God-with-us. The time is near. Amen.

Sermon for Thanksgiving Sunday, "All Gathered In"

Sermon 11/22/09, Matthew 6:24-33

Giving Thanks: All Gathered In

What, if anything, do you worry about? That was a question posed to me in an interview about blogging that I did a few years back, and my response was something like this: “What don’t I worry about?” I was still serving my first congregation at the time, and my response expanded mostly in relation to pastoral ministry. I said, “I can be a worrier. I worry about my congregation, and whether I am serving them well, and if the church is growing numerically and spiritually, and if I visit enough people often enough, and if my prayers are too long, and if a new worship service will work, and, and, and . . .”

This interview response came to my mind because I was also thinking of another blog-related item about worry – a post I wrote about how I handle stress and worry. Sometimes, I can worry as that stress, anxiety, in the pit of my stomach. But sometimes, I’m stressed and worried and I can’t even remember why. I have that anxious, gnawing feeling, but I don’t know what about. This makes it feel even worse, even more worrisome. I recounted on my blog that I’ve gotten better, though, at stopping, when I feel this dread, and working to identifying the cause of my stress or worry so I can confront it and move on. One time I was feeling very anxious, and so I worked hard to find the source of my worry. Finally it hit me. I’d been reading news articles on CNN, and become worried over and article about the melting of the polar ice caps. That was my cause of stress! Now, I take issues of environmental justice very seriously – but my worrying about the ice caps wasn’t really accomplishing anything – it wasn’t helping me act with more care for the earth – it was just filling my stomach with dread without even remembering why I was so upset! What do you worry about? How does all that worrying make you feel?

Today, our text is about worry. It seems like an odd text, at first, to flip back to, after all these passages about discipleship in the gospel of Mark. And it seems like a strange Thanksgiving text, which is its primary purpose. Certainly it is maybe an odd choice for a text for Consecration Sunday – a day when many of us are thinking about pledges and giving and budgets and hoping things work out for the church financially. But as I think about our own life together as a congregation, I think it makes perfect sense – before we can move forward, before we can get out there and be in ministry, we have to make sure we aren’t so weighed down with burden and worry that we can’t function, can’t be disciples.

And so, I think this text is perfect for us today, because I think, as a congregation, we’ve been carrying with us a great deal of worry, and stress, and anxiety. I feel it, and I think many of you feel it as well. A long time of pastoral transition, from a pastor who was here for 28 years, to an interim ministry, and finally to a new permanent pastor, a sense of being in a suspended mode, waiting to see what would happen next, waiting to see how things would turn out, where things would go, how things would move forward, how things would or wouldn’t change – I think all of these things can cause stress, worry, and anxiety in a congregation. And in particular, we, like many churches, have been worried about money – our financial situation. We’ve been worried about keeping the lights on, keeping the bills paid, supporting our staff, supporting our denominational connections, keeping our ministry here going. We’re worried about our future, about how people will respond to our needs, about how we will take care of this faith community. And we can carry this stress, this burden, this worry with us everywhere – into every church meeting, into every gathering, into every decision we’ve been making. And I worry – I worry about what our worry does to us! I worry that with all our worries, we don’t have much energy left to do the work that Christ calls us to do. And into the midst of all this worry, comes our perfectly placed passage for the day.

This text comes as part of what we call from Matthew “The Sermon on the Mount.” It’s part of a long set of teaching by Jesus preached to crowds of people gathered with him on the mountainside. He’s just shared with the crowds a way to pray that we now call The Lord’s Prayer, and he’s been telling them that where their treasure is, there will their hearts be also. And today we hear Jesus saying that one cannot serve both God and wealth. This statement is a springboard for Jesus to speak about worry. Don’t worry, Jesus says, about what to eat, or drink, or wear. Life is more than these things. The birds of the air don’t work or worry, and have plenty to eat, and we are more valuable than birds. And the lilies are clothed with great beauty, but they only last a little while. Won’t God take even greater care of us? So why worry? God knows what we need. So strive for the Kingdom of God, not these other things, Jesus concludes. Strive to live righteously, and everything else will come as well.

In some ways I love this passage – it is beautiful, comforting. But I have to share with you my other reaction: Is Jesus serious? How can he be? Clearly he has no experience with financial stress or other worries. How can he be so naïve? How can you tell people who are hungry and homeless and without clothing or work not to worry? Sure, our own situation is not that bad – we’re abundantly blessed even though we’re facing these hard times. But how can you tell people who are going without not to worry and that everything will be ok? Is Jesus just an idealist? Is he exaggerating? Is he just out of touch?

For me, the key to understanding this passage is to consider what Jesus is really saying when he speaks of worry. The Greek word here is merimnate, which means more literally to “be preoccupied with or be absorbed by.” (1) When Jesus speaks of worry, he’s speaking of something that preoccupies us, absorbs our attention, takes our effort and energy and heart’s direction. In fact, in this way, Jesus is equating worry to something that’s very close to idolatry. Idolatry is when we take anything that is other than God, and give it the place of God in our lives. All through the scriptures, idolatry is one of the things that God most deplores about our human behavior. Again and again, we’re putting something else in a more important place than we put God. Worried? Preoccupied? Absorbed? Not only is your stress hard on you, it’s also putting your very soul at risk, because your worry is just another form of making idols.

Instead of being naïve, Jesus is, of course, being extremely wise. He calls our worry out for what it is – a way of distancing ourselves from God and God’s plan for our lives. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, writes about it this way: “Does not every man see, that he cannot comfortably serve both [God and wealth]? That to trim between God and the world is the sure way to be disappointed in both, and to have no rest either in one or the other? How uncomfortable a condition must he be in, who, having the fear but not the love of God, -- who, serving him, but not with all his heart, -- has only the toils and not the joys of religion? He has religion enough to make him miserable, but not enough to make him happy: His religion will not let him enjoy the world, and the world will not let him enjoy God. So that, by halting between both, he loses both; and has no peace either in God or the world.” (2) Wesley knew that by trying to strive for what’s important in worldly terms at the same time we strive spiritually would only make us miserable in the world and miserable in our relationship with God.

So what do we do? How do we change? How do we give up this striving, our obsessive anxiety, our stress, our worry, our preoccupation with so much that has nothing to do with God, faith, discipleship, ministry? How can we just “not worry” like Jesus says? He gives us the answer: We still strive, we’re still preoccupied, we’re still consumed – but all that energy is given to striving for the kingdom of God. And we’re able to do that when we recognize that our lives are covered already by God’s love. Our lives are given value already by God who created us, and if this God who created us even gives value to birds and lilies and grass in the field, which is here today and gone tomorrow, how can we doubt the value given to us? We’re precious to God, of such value to God. The value we get elsewhere isn’t real. The things we worry about only define us if we let them define us. But if we choose otherwise, if we strive after God’s kingdom instead, we’ll find our real value as children of God.

Does seeking God’s kingdom free us from worry? Does seeking God’s kingdom clothe us and feed us? Maybe not in the ways we’d expect. But I think striving for God’s kingdom ultimately turns our view from ourselves out to the world God has created. So striving for the kingdom lead us to feed others, to clothe others, to fill others. If the whole world strives after God first, I think we’ll find that Jesus is right – all the rest is added to us as well. We face some difficult times ahead as a congregation – we always will, as we struggle to exist in a world that is full of worry, ever torn, as John Wesley described, between more than one master, never being satisfied by either. Our life together can be so much more than we sometimes settle for. Strive first for God, God’s kingdom, God’s justice. If we do that together, God promises that the rest will come to us as a gift to God’s beloved children.

Today, we’re consecrating our gifts to God, our pledges, or our hopes for what we can give to support our ministry in the year to come. This very Sunday and all the responsibilities that come with it can be a source of stress and anxiety for us. Will it be enough? Are we giving enough? If there’s not enough, what do we cut? What do we go without? What do we not pay? But today is also Thanksgiving Sunday, and God always means giving thanks to be an act of joy, giving to be an act of love and hope and promise from God to us and from us to God. God seeks for us to give and receive with thanks, hope, and holy anticipation in the same way that we would feel about waiting for a loved one to open the carefully selected treasure we’ve chosen just for them. Today, then, as we consecrate our gifts to God, I’m seeking to let go of my worries, which take my energy from seeking after God and God’s kingdom. And instead, I’m letting myself be filled with Thanksgiving for the signs of the kingdom I see everyday, right in our midst.

This very week, I am thankful for Derek and Becky Hansen and the energy they’ve instilled into our young people for participating in the life of the church. I’m thankful for the youth that tried something new this weekend and went to learn about God with hundreds of other young people of faith. I’m thankful for Dale and Lori who stepped in to support our youth coordinator in his time of need. I’m thankful for your outpouring of support for the refugees over the past month in response to a plea for help, and for the people you will feed over the next weeks through your support of our Thanksgiving baskets. I’m thankful for those of you who consistently reach out to our homebound members, so that when I visit, they can tell me that they’ve already heard from one of you recently. I’m thankful for a congregation pulling together a church dinner that could go on while I was on vacation. I’m thankful for those who have been working hard to find ways to make our church more welcoming who those who come here seeking a closer walk with God. Our church is overflowing with blessings and riches that will help us as we seek to draw close to the heart of God, as we strive after the kingdom of God.

Today, as we offer our gifts to God to be consecrated, my prayer is that we ask God to use our gifts in ways we can’t even imagine yet. That God can transform our worries into thanksgivings. That God can turn our dollars into lives touched by God’s love through our congregation and beyond. Jesus said, “Strive first for the kingdom of God, and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” May it be so for us. Amen.

My Road-trip Route Map

Here's a basic map of my route over the next two weeks, in case you are interested in seeing where I will be for my vacation, and for my attendance at Exploration 2009. Sorry Kansas and Missouri - I'm making a giant circle around you. Maybe some other road-trip....

View Larger Map