Sermon for Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany, "Requirements"

Sermon 1/30/11

Micah 6:1-8, Matthew 5:1-12

Requirements

           

Requirements. When I was in high-school, I knew I had really arrived, I was really becoming grown-up when I got to the time in school where I could start choosing some of my classes. By the time I was a junior, I no longer took math and science – I had taken the required courses for graduation already. And instead, during my senior year, I was taking a full load of five periods of music courses, ranging from choir and orchestra to theory and history. It was great. I loved it. Then, in college, my choices were even more wide-ranging. You got to choose an entire course of study. I got to choose a major and a minor. There were some core requirements of course – Ohio Wesleyan sadly required three sciences, much to my dismay. But I got to choose classes like Ancient Greek, Stage Make-up and Costuming, Shakespeare, and Adolescent Psychology. And then, I went to seminary. Instead of getting more choices, I had less than in college, it seemed – I had seminary requirements and requirements that were specific to the United Methodist denomination. I had requirements that our annual conference set all its own. And during my last year, the school was already moving to add one or two more classes to the list. I can’t say I didn’t have some choice in my courses, but it seems a seminary can’t let you go off to become a pastor without having classes in Old and New Testament, or courses on Preaching. And now that I’m working on my Doctor of Ministry degree, it seems things have come full circle. I don’t have a single elective class in my program. Every class I take is prescribed. I just take what I’m told to take. Zero wiggle room. The requirements are the requirements. And if you want to get out of high-school, you’ve got to take English. And if you want to get out of seminary, you have to complete the requirements necessary for ministry. And if I want my Doctoral degree, I have to take every single one of those classes. We might wish it worked differently, but ultimately, we know we must pay our dues if we want to get credit and move on.

Sometimes, I think we treat things similarly in our faith lives. We’re interested in knowing what our requirements are, and what part of faith is elective. We’re interested in knowing how much we need to believe and how much of our faith we need to practice to do what is necessary for us to reap the benefits. For example, how many times a month do you need to attend worship? Your answer and my answer to this question might be a little different! But we wonder – do we have to attend every week? Once a month? Three weeks on one week off? Or we wonder, how much do we need to give? What can we get by with? If we go to church, do we have to go to Sunday School too, or vise versa? What’s required for us to be good Christians? We wonder what we must believe too: did Jesus really mean we had to drop everything and follow him, like the disciples did in our reading last week, or is that just an elective part of faith, only for the really devout? When Jesus taught us to love our enemies, did he mean all of them, or just some? When we read about our neighbors and how we are to treat them, are we required to love every last one, make amends in every relationship, or does Jesus just expect us to give it a good try and then say, “Enough is enough!?” We want to know. Of course, I’m teasing a little bit – but I’m serious too – we really want to know what’s required of us. We love God – I’m guessing that’s why most of you are here. We want to serve God. We want to live rightly. We want to be disciples. But we know our limitations too – we’re not perfect. We’ve failed so many times before. How can we live up to the standards set by the disciples, who dropped everything to follow Jesus, or the Israelites, who wandered for years in the desert to follow God’s commands, or those like Paul, who were even imprisoned for preaching the gospel? We doubt we can live as they did – and so we want to know: what’s required of us? What must we do to please God?

We are constantly trying to figure out what it is we need to do to please God. We think of the heavens opening up at Jesus’ baptism, and Jesus hearing God’s voice saying, “with you I am well pleased,” and we want so much that same assurance of God’s love, even as we feel so much less deserving of it than was Christ. We are not alone in our wondering. We read in Micah today, the questioning Israel brings before God: “with what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” Perhaps these suggested gifts don’t sound very meaningful to us, but the offerings, the calves, the rams, even the firstborn – these represent all that was important and of value to the Ancient Israelites – the offerings would represent the finest that a person possessed, the best of the best one had to give, or even one’s own child – the firstborn, who held all sorts of high positions in Hebrew society. We’re not much different when it comes to trying to please God. We know that we are sinful – we know that we’re often not doing what God wants – but instead of trying to change our behavior, to transform our lives, we wait until after we’ve made bad decisions, and then scramble to make bargains with God. “God, I swear I’ll never do X again if you’ll just do X for me.” “God, I promise I’ll do X all the time God, if you just forgive me for X.” We hope that our offerings will appease and please God, as Israel wonders if its guilt offerings are what God desires.

But Micah, the prophet, has some clarity to offer, and I can almost hear the “you know the answer” tone-of-voice he must have been using with the people. Micah answers, “God has told you, people, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” We already know, Micah reminds us, what we are to do. God has told us. Maybe we haven’t been listening, or perhaps we haven’t believed what we’ve heard. But we know the requirement of faithful living: to walk humbly, to love kindness, or mercy as some texts read, and to do justice. These are the requirements – not the electives – but the requirements of faithful living, good living.

What does it mean, though? How do we do these things? What is justice, and mercy or kindness, and humility? To me, it can be overwhelming if we think about the nouns instead of the verbs. The nouns – justice, mercy, humility – those are some big broad concepts. What is justice? Well, we could spend a lot of time talking about that, and end up spending little time actually doing what Micah talks about. But if we focus on the verbs in Micah’s response to our question, I think we find a way to move forward. We have to walk humbly with God. We have to love mercy. And we have to do just or act justly. Walk, love, do/act. That gives us something to get our head around. What does God require of us? We have to walk with God. When we are figuring out our path in life, we’re to figure out where God is going, and go that same way. We’re to try to be where God is every day. It’s like going on a walk with a friend – you’re side by side, and where they go, you go. We walk with God. And we’re to love. That’s easy, right? We know how to love. We can get better at it. We can include more people in who we love. We can remove some of the conditions that we put on how we love. But what’s required is something we already know, that’s as essential to living as breathing. We’re to love. And finally, we’re to do, to act. We talked about this last Sunday – how being disciples involves reflection and action. It’s easy to see where God’s love is needed in this world, where grace is needed, where peace is needed. All we have to do is act in faith. That doesn’t mean we have to solve everything. But what’s required is that we don’t just do nothing! Taking action in the small ways we can is infinitely more effective than doing nothing because we can’t do everything.

Today we celebrate people who are engaging in the journey of faith Micah describes. As we install new leaders and we receive new members, we lift up those who are taking a particular step in their walk with God. We affirm our love for them as we welcome new folks into this part of the Body of Christ and as we encourage our leaders to work with love in guiding the congregation. And these celebrations are certainly actions, taking an active role in discipleship. As we celebrate, we also reflect on our own journeys, and seek to take steps in faith together.

What does God require of us? Just three things. Walk humbly. Love mercy. Act justly. We have a whole lifetime to complete the course. Amen.

Sermon for Third Sunday after the Epiphany, "Report of the Pastor"

Report of the Pastor – January 23^rd, 2011

“Where Do You Belong?” – 1 Corinthians 1:10-18, Matthew 4:12-23

            As you know, I spent last week in Ohio in my second semester of classes for my Doctor of Ministry degree. One of the two classes I took was about the Global Emerging Church. Christianity has been and continues to shift in center – no longer primarily a European and American religion, Christianity is bigger and growing in Latin America, Asia, and Africa. We studied the theologies of the third-world, particularly liberation theologies – theologies that focus on freedom from oppression and God’s preferential option for the poor. And a recurring theme in all that we read and learned was this: theology can’t be just about studying God, reflecting on God and the scriptures. Theology must be praxis. And praxis is the combination of reflection and action. Reflection that doesn’t require any action is useless theology. And in fact, inaction is a choice too – an action whose laziness or apathy speaks volumes! Good theology, meaningful theology involves reflection and intentional action.

            People of faith in all places are called to claim a theological praxis. We think, we study, we learn. But then we act. We live out. We respond in action to God’s calling on our lives. Our two scripture lessons today help ground us in that understanding. First, a reading from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. We’ve talked about the Corinthians a few times this past year. They were an early house church community of faith, and Paul had lots of very frank words for them about how to get along as this new body. Here, Paul is writing in response to what he’s heard about divisions in the community – specifically that people seem to be separating themselves based on who baptized them, claiming that they “belong” to Paul or Peter or Apollos – lining themselves up with the leadership of that particular apostle. Paul responds, “Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or where you baptized in the name of Paul?” He continues insisting that all Paul is about is proclaiming the gospel and the power of the cross. We belong to Christ, and we’re called to be united in the “same mind and the same purpose” – sharing the good news. You might say that this reading represents our grounding – our reflection. And so our reading from Matthew’s gospel, then, represents our call to action, our response.

            In Matthew we follow Jesus as, following his cousin John’s arrest, Jesus begins taking up John’s message: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” As he’s walking by the Sea of Galilee, he sees brothers Peter and Andrew fishing. He says, with no introduction, at least not one that’s recorded, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” We read “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” This scene is repeated with James and John, sons of Zebedee. And our passage closes with Jesus teaching, healing, and proclaiming the good news. This is a passage of action. Disciples are called, and they respond. This is not a time for solitary reflection. This is a time for them to choose, act, follow. They lay down their nets and they go with Jesus. Good theology, good discipleship involves reflection and action. And that’s what our life together as a congregation involves too – reflection and action.

            Last year at this time, I shared with you my goals for my ministry in the covenant between me and you, the congregation. Since I was still in my first year with you, my goals reflect my hopes for building relationships. That was my first goal: build relationships with the church family – and the second: learn about the community and establish connections. I began with an ambitious goal – to visit everyone in the congregation. That was a new year’s resolution of sorts. Like all good resolutions, I didn’t meet my goal 100%. Please don’t be offended if I didn’t make it to visit you this last year. But I did get to spend a lot of time getting to know many of you better, and of course my hope is that we will continue to build our relationships – me with you, and you with each other. Maybe one of your own challenges this year can be to get to know someone better who also attends this church, that you’ve seen sitting across the way.

            A second goal was to give attention to the youth ministry program of the church. Our children and youth ministry coordinator position launched just a couple of months after my arrival here a year and a half ago. We hired Derek Hansen as our youth coordinator, and he did a wonderful job of kicking of a youth group, but of course, you know that Derek followed a call to seminary, and is now partway through his program there and serving a church as a student pastor. Luckily, Lori Greabell stepped in as interim, and eventually a permanent replacement as the Youth Coordinator. Lori has been doing a fantastic job – she spends time here and at Collamer on Sunday mornings, she’s expanded our youth program by adding a junior youth group for our thriving younger youth, and she’s been working with youth groups from Fayetteville and Manlius to provide even more exciting opportunities for our young people. My personal best experience was in sharing confirmation class with several of our young people last year. They survived my quizzes and accepted my bribes of pizza, even if it was only Little Caesar’s pizza, and in turn, I got to lead young people through a sacred journey, even if sometimes it takes time for the preciousness of that journey to sink in. We often speak of young people as the future of our church. But youth and children are not our future – they are our present. They are an essential and vital part of the life of our church right now. Jesus said “let the children come” and I don’t think it was just words to him. In fact Jesus said that unless we became like children, we could never enter the kingdom of heaven. I hope that we continue to work for our young people to be a welcome part of all we do here. We can help, guide, shape, mentor them, and share with them the faith that together we follow.     

            Stewardship is another focus we’ve had this year. In fact, we’ve just completed our deficit buster campaign, and we can celebrate that through your generous giving we met our 2010 budget, when we began the year thinking it would be impossible. That was possible because of your giving – that was it – your giving, your generosity, your commitment and response to the need we shared. It reminds me that all things are possible with God, even transforming our struggles into blessings. Stewardship is reflecting on why and how we give. Why do you think God gives to us? Sometimes when we think about giving, we get caught up in budgets and spending and debt and making ends meet. Those things are important, for sure. But it’s not why we’re called to give, any more than God gives to us out of obligation. As I’ve said before, even if our budget was fully funded from some other source, we’d still be called to give because that’s what God does, and we’re called to be God’s agents in the world. It is God’s pleasure to give to us out of God’s abundant, endless love, and we’re meant to learn the pleasure of exemplifying this same giving heart.

            Finally, a goal this year, and every year, is finding ways for our worship together, our worship of God who creates us, to be rich, meaningful, and transformational. For me, at the center is keeping in sight always why we worship. We worship because God is God and we are not! We worship because God is love and we seek to love in response. And we worship because we want to know this God, encounter this God, hear from this God, be moved by this God. We’re a diverse body – we’re drawn to different ways and styles of worship, and yet we still seek to find common ground. I’m always eager to hear your thoughts about worship, and what would be meaningful to you. I’m always eager for you to be involved in leading worship. One of my favorite ways of worshipping with you is to take ancient practices and make them new again, as we learn and practice. I was deeply grateful for your openness to working with my on my World Communion Sunday project this year, where we got a taste, a small taste, of worship in the early church. We ever seek to praise the God who created us, just as people have been doing for thousands of years. We come with open hearts and minds to be filled by God’s Holy Spirit.

            As we move ahead in our journey together, my goals will transition, our goals will take shape as we respond to God’s call on this congregation. We reflect on where God has led us thus far, and we respond by following where God is leading us now. This year, I plan on shifting some of my focus to answer areas where I think we can really grow.

            Our focus on mission is a real strength and growing edge in our congregation. You’ve been engaged in mission always, but I’ve had a number of people note how much investment in mission has increased over the last few years. My aim is for us to specifically focus our attention on hands-on mission. Studies show that churches that engage in mission, that are outward-focused, are healthier, stronger in times of crisis, and more likely to be growing than churches that keep an inward focus. Jesus poured himself out in every way to serve others. If we are not about serving others, we’re in trouble.

            We’ll also focus on evangelism as a heightened priority this year – that is, sharing the good news with others, inviting people in, welcoming visitors, following up and making new folks feel at home here. Karen Dunn has done a wonderful job in leading in evangelism, and our carnival in September was a huge success in saying to the community: we’re here, and we want you here too – we have something we want to share. I loved the way the carnival involved nearly every person in this congregation, and showed us what we’re capable of when we are all invested in the work together.

            In the coming weeks, we’ll look at these goals in worship piece by piece. All of these pieces, I hope you will see, are ways of putting our faith into practice – combining reflection with action – not just what we believe about God, but how what we believe, what God has done in us, causes us to change our lives. I want this church to be a significant part of your faith journey, a place where you can learn to live out what Jesus teaches. You might remember me sharing after our Parish Council retreat this fall that my vision if for this church to be a place where lives are changed because of being transformed by the grace of our living God. That is my deepest hope, and all of my other hopes are pinned on this, expressions of this. I want you to find this church to be a place that changes your life, that helps you connect what you believe with how you live.

Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. Amen.

Sermon for Baptism of the Lord, Year A, "Well Pleased"

Sermon 1/9/11

Matthew 3:13-17

Well Pleased 

            The verses in the scriptures about Jesus’ baptism are very few in number – each gospel has an account of Jesus’ baptism, but all of them combined amount to just a couple paragraphs. And yet, I think it is such an important passage, and this day is one of my favorites in the liturgical calendar. I think it’s important, Jesus’ baptism, because of the questions we have to answer about it, and the main question is why? Why does Jesus get baptized?

            Why? That’s a question John also seems to have for Jesus. He seems surprised that Jesus comes for baptism, and would prevent it if he could, at least at first. “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” After all, John has been baptizing as a symbol of repentance – a symbol of turning back to God from our wanderings, and being forgiven and reconciled to God and one another. Why would Jesus need this? He hasn’t wandered off God’s path. He’s God’s child. He’s God made flesh! Jesus answers John: “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” By this answer John is convinced. He baptizes Jesus, and as Jesus rises from the water, the heavens open, the Spirit of God, like a dove, descends on Jesus, and a voice is heard: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

            John is convinced by Jesus’ answer, but we might wonder what exactly he heard in Jesus’ words. Jesus says, “it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Righteousness is one of those words that shows up in the Bible hundreds of time, and yet, we don’t really actually have a good grasp of it. It’s a broad concept – you could write a whole book about what biblical righteousness is, but you can think of it more simply as “right relationship,” particularly with God – a person who is righteous is a person who is living like God wants them to live – their actions are just and justified, and their living is pleasing to God. One early English bible translator called it “rightwise” or “rightways.” Jesus is baptized because his baptism shows that he is doing what is pleasing to God, Jesus says.

            But I think Jesus’ baptism is an act of righteousness because it also establishes his right relationship as God-with-us. That’s what we just celebrated in Christmas – Jesus is God-with-us. Jesus’ baptism is an act of righteousness because it is a symbol of the new hope for our right relationship with God – Jesus is God with us, our relationship with God put to rights because Jesus comes to be one of us, with us. As we are baptized, so Jesus is baptized. He’s with us. Fully immersed in our human condition, one with in our grief, sorrows, joys, and triumphs.

            I think Jesus’ baptism is a scene that acts out what we believe about the sacraments. In our traditions, from our Presbyterian and Methodist foundations, we celebrate sacraments as acts that Jesus commanded we repeat that communicate God’s grace to us. The sacraments are symbols of God’s grace, God’s unconditional love, at work. We use this language about other rites as well, the language that tells us that some of our symbols of faith represent to us God’s grace. In a wedding, when I bless wedding bands, I say that “these rings are an outward sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” Though marriage is not a sacrament, we certainly consider it sacred, and so I think we can use that language to understand the sacrament of baptism: Baptism is an outward sign of an inward and spiritual grace, the free gift, offered to us by God. It’s the outward way we remind ourselves of what is always true, but sometimes forgotten by us: God loves us without condition and without end. Jesus is baptized because his mission is to make God’s love visible in our lives, and teach us to make God’s love visible to others by our actions, by our right living, by our being righteous.

            Today, the focus of this service is not my words, but our actions together. Today I invite you to renew the vows taken at your baptism, to remember that God loves you, that God is with you, and that we are called to partner with God to make God’s love visible to others. When I say today, “remember your baptism and be thankful,” many of you of course can’t remember your baptism – but I ask you to remember that someone already stood up for you to claim that God’s love was made visible in your very life – by the fact of your existence, others can see that God is love.

            We gather at the beginning of a new year together, in this church, this community, this world. It seems too easy to look at the world and only see acts of separation, of hatred, of violence, of selfishness at work. Somehow we forget what Jesus came to show us, that God is with us, what purpose Jesus lived and died and lives in us for. But what if, this year, we concentrated on making God’s love visible? What if our words and actions all pointed to God’s love? What if, in our relationship with others, we acted towards them, treated them in such a way, that what they got out of our interaction was an overwhelming sense of God’s love for them? Imagine how people might live differently if they never doubted God’s love.

            Following our time of renewal this morning, we’ll sing a hymn by one of my favorite hymnists, Ruth Duck – a hymn for baptism called, “Was, O God, Our Sons and Daughters.” As we prepare our hearts and minds, I invite you to hear words from the last verse of this hymn: We your people stand before you, water-washed and Spirit-born. By your grace, our lives we offer. Recreate us; God, transform! Let that be our prayer – Recreate us God. Transform our lives. And let us make God’s love visible in our lives, and the lives of all whom we meet. Amen. 

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Rise and Shine"

Sermon 1/2/11

Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Rise and Shine

            When I was on staff at Camp Aldersgate when I was a teenager, the program director used to sing a little song to wake people up in the morning: “Wakey, wakey, rise and shine, breakfast is at eight and not at nine!” Of course, he was from England, and sang with a lovely British accent, but I can’t pull that off. And of course, we really didn’t feel much like rising and shining most of those early mornings. But I can’t hear the phrase “rise and shine” without thinking of those days. Another camp memory – a little song about Noah’s ark, and the chorus – which repeated through many verses, “So rise and shine, and give God your glory, glory, rise and shine, and give God your glory, glory. Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory, children of the Lord.” Ok, the song was of the variety that after a few years, you sort of never wanted to hear that chorus again. But I guess after enough years go by, you can get sort of nostalgic, or just hear with new years, and I’ve been thinking about the hopefulness, the energy of those words, perfect for new beginnings. Rise and shine and give God your glory, children of the Lord.

            That’s the message of Isaiah this morning: “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Isaiah is writing this part of his prophetic texts when the Israelites have finally been given permission by the king of Persia, Darius, to return to their homeland. They had been living in exile in Babylon for so long – for most people, a lifetime had passed since they had been exile from Israel – more than 50 years had passed – many would not remember or not even have been born when the people were forced to leave their homeland. But finally, they can return, and begin again. And really, it was very much a new beginning – too much time had gone by to simply resume life as it had been. They would have to create new lives in Israel. But Isaiah writes with words of such hope: Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth . . . but the Lord will arise upon you . . . Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice.”

Today is Epiphany Sunday. Epiphany day is technically January 6^th – 12 days after Christmas day – making today technically the 9^th day of Christmas – nine ladies dancing day. So we’re still in this season of Christmas, actually. 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, among other things, when 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 – but over time, of course, we’ve come to think of there being three Wise Men.

The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” You can see why our text from Isaiah is so perfect for Epiphany. 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, being revealed. This ties in with the Wise Men because the Magi weren’t Jews, and 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 – revealed to all of us – that’s what we’re celebrating on Epiphany Sunday.

Today Epiphany isn’t something we make much of us – at least not in the church in the United States. But in our church history, the feast of Epiphany used to be one of the great celebrations. Perhaps you also remember the Shakespeare play, "12th Night" - this refers also to the 12th night of Christmas, the eve of Epiphany, the culmination of the Christmas celebration. Nowadays, however, we do things a little differently. We barely make it to Christmas day without jumping the gun and celebrating during Advent. We certainly don't make our celebrations last for twelve days after, not unless you try to pass New Year's Eve parties off as the newest form of religious Christmas revelry. After all, what's so fun to celebrate in Epiphany, anyway? There's no presents left to exchange, the baby Jesus is already born, and though it's a feast day, we're really trying to get through at least the first week of January without breaking our well-intentioned resolutions!

But I think Epiphany is an important moment in our liturgical year, and actually just right for the new beginning that we all seek. Most of us know what the word Epiphany itself means in everyday usage. Epiphany means a sudden realization of the truth about something. It's the lightbulb moment, the "A-Ha" moment when the pieces fall into place and comprehension succeeds. It's the moment of recognition. And that meaning can help us understand what Epiphany means for our lives today. Today we celebrate that the light of the world is shining. But more than just acknowledging the light of Christ, our task is to let that light shine into our lives and bring all of the dark places out of the shadows. What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? I’ve been thinking about this in two ways: First, I think letting in the light of Christ – really – would make us deal with aspects of ourselves and our behaviors that we try to hide. Do you struggle with envy or coveting what others have? Are you facing an addiction that you can’t control? Are you holding on to resentments or conflicts with others that you have been unwilling to resolve? God at work in us reveals all those things – uncovers them, not so that we can be judged and condemned, but so that we can be healed and let go and move forward. This is a time when so many of us are making New Year’s Resolutions, and I think that the reason that so many of us fail in our efforts is because we don’t really examine what’s behind our feelings – why aren’t we happy with what we have, always long for what others have, for example? And we never ask for support – we start out to change our lives on our own, without the grounding, the source of our being. It is Christ who is the light, and we can’t shine without that source, God, empowering us.

What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? Here’s the second way: We don’t see ourselves very clearly. I think the apostle Paul was right on when he talked about how we “see in a mirror dimly.” So often, we look at ourselves and see our failures, our faults, our flaws. We gloss right over the gifts we have, the way that God has created us, the strength we have, the ways that we have been uniquely formed and blessed and placed in this world so that we can serve and give and bless others. We just don’t see in ourselves all that God sees in us. And so we let ourselves off easy, because we’re convinced that we can’t do what God knows we can do and do well. When the light of Christ brings everything in us into view, when we let that light shine in all the overshadowed places, then we start to see ourselves as we really are, as God created us, and as God is calling us to be.

Next Sunday is Baptism of the Lord Sunday, when we will remember and celebrate the baptism of Jesus. As part of our celebration, we’ll have a chance to renew the vows that we took or were taken for us at our own baptisms, to reaffirm our faith, and to begin again. Let the light of Christ fill your hearts as we begin again. Let the light wash over your life, that we might be ready to share the light with the world. “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Amen.

Sermon for Fourth Sunday of Advent, " Redefining Christmas: Recreate"

Sermon 12/19/10, Matthew 1:18-25

Redefining Christmas: Recreate

            Sometimes when we get what we want, we don’t know what to do with it after all. Sometimes Advent can seem like a long time, when you’re at the beginning of it, reading those strange world-catastrophe texts a few days after Thanksgiving. But then, what seems like just a few hours later really, we’re at the fourth Sunday of Advent, and in our text today from Matthew Jesus is born, and maybe we wonder a little: now what do we do with this? I know for me, at least, I found it a little easier to preach about those other strange texts, less familiar texts, than I find it to preach about a text so much more familiar and seemingly simple.

Let's look at our passage. The text we read from Matthew is notable because here, it is really Joseph's story, not Jesus' or Mary's. Poor Mary, the mother of the Christ Child, hardly gets a mention from Matthew. This passage is about how Joseph handled everything that was happening to him. Joseph and Mary are engaged. But before their marriage, before they are living together, someone it is discovered that Mary is pregnant. We don't know how this information was known - we just knew that Joseph knew she was pregnant and knew that he was not the father of the child. Having a child outside of a marriage in those days wasn't just frowned upon. It was a criminal act, and it was punishable, punishable by death to one or both persons involved. Joseph, having made a covenant to wed Mary, could have brought charges of adultery against her, for which she would have faced death by stoning. But Joseph, a 'righteous man', chooses instead to quietly break off the covenant to be wed before it is too late. But, we read, "just as he had resolved to do this," a messenger from God appears to Joseph and tells him that the child Mary bears is from the Holy Spirit. The messenger tells him not to be afraid, but to wed Mary as planned. This child, the messenger says, is one who will save the people from their sins. Joseph did as the messenger commanded. We don't hear of any arguments he put forward, or hard time he gave Mary, or questions he wanted answered. He wed Mary as promised, and she bore a child, and they named him Jesus.

It is hard for us today to realize the precariousness of Jesus’ birth and the whole Christmas story. We think of the birth of Jesus as such a sweet thing – at least that’s my gut instinct. So sweet – a baby being born! The baby Jesus, asleep on the hay. But everything about childbirth in those days was risky. In the best of situations, giving birth was a risky thing. And in Mary and Joseph’s situation: there are some life and death circumstances at play. Today perhaps we don't find this story as shocking - a man finds his fiancée pregnant, and he knows that he is not the father. So he wants to remedy the situation by quietly divorcing her, something that was necessary even to break an engagement. In today's world, such a thing might still be disliked or looked down on by some, but it certainly is not something punishable by death. But in Joseph's day, it was of critical importance. Children and lineage and family lines and sons being born - this was important, critical stuff, issues that meant survival and success. Joseph had the facts in front of him - Mary was pregnant and he was not the father. He dreamed of God's messenger telling him it would be alright. But if I took everything I dreamed at face value, I'd be in big trouble!

But Joseph seems satisfied that he has heard God speaking to him, and he knows what he must do. He must risk it. No doubt he loved Mary already - he must risk trusting her and trusting God even though he felt betrayed and confused. He must risk believing what the visions of his dreams told him - that this baby would be the Messiah. He must risk the ridicule he would face when others would inevitably get wind of what was happening. So much that he must do. And for what? Our gospels rarely speak of Joseph after this. He is not the parent that Jesus relates to, the father he depends on - Jesus calls God his Abba – it is God that Jesus speaks of as his parent. Mary plays a bigger role in Jesus' ministry and life, at least. But Joseph disappears from the scene. Such a big risk, and no seeming rewards, no benefits for himself, no glory, fame only in Church Christmas pageants. Why would he do it? For love of Mary? No - he loved Mary, but he would have divorced her if he could. No, I can only deduce that it is Joseph’s faithfulness that helps him act so selflessly. Because of his love for God, and God's love for him, Joseph is willing to put himself in last place, disregard any action that would be in his own best interest. Jesus is not even yet born, the child he will raise, but already Joseph is embodying what Jesus will teach – putting himself last, letting himself be humbled, being servant of all. God's love seems to make us do the craziest things sometimes. Only with God's love and Joseph’s in response, woven through this story, does Joseph's behavior make any sense.

Joseph, following God, is able to do what I think is one of the hardest things of all – and that’s to get out of the way, let the story be, really, about everyone but him. Many of us would say we don’t like being the center of attention. I’m a pretty introverted person, even though I have a very public vocation, and I can tell you I generally try not to draw attention to myself. But, if we are all honest with ourselves, when it comes to making decisions, we’re usually going to protect ourselves, make choices that are ok with us, take actions that are for our own benefit. It’s very hard for us to move ourselves to the sidelines, to make choices that are risky, will cause us pain or harm. To act selflessly – unfortunately, we sometimes limit that impulse for only those whom we love most dearly – our family, maybe our best friends. Joseph acts selflessly for the sake of an unborn child that is not his. But more simply, he acts selflessly because God asks him to.

Christmas, despite our best intentions, often turns into a selfish rather than a selfless time. We don’t mean to be, but somehow we get so worried about making sure things go just right, making sure we can get just the right gift, making sure things are perfect, or at least the best they can be. And sometimes in the quest for the special Christmas, we forget to get out of the way, move to the side, so that the focus can be where it belongs – a child named Jesus is born. Christmas is just a few days away. But there’s plenty of time, always time, to act a little more like Joseph.

“Joseph . . . did as the angel of the Lord commanded him . . .and he named [the child] Jesus.” Amen.  

Sermon for Third Sunday of Advent, "Reveal"

Sermon 12/12/10

Matthew 11:2-11

Redefining Christmas: Reveal

            Have you ever had your expectations completely shattered? Have you ever been totally off base in your expectations about something? Well, I guess I can answer that for you. Of course you have. We all have, I’m sure, in our many experiences had a time when what we expected, and what we got, were two completely different things. A trivial example: In seminary I took my United Methodist history, doctrine, and polity classes online. My seminary was big into embracing technology, and taking the class online was convenient. (I have to also tell you it involved a lot more work than some of my traditional classes!) Anyway, the professor was a professor who was based right on Drew’s campus. I’d just never seen him before. He worked mostly with Doctor of Ministry students, and I was a Master of Divinity student. His office wasn’t in the main seminary building. And I’d just never seen him before. So as I was taking this online class, I only had a picture in my head of what Dr. Savage might look like. And then, one day, there he was, right in front of me. And he was absolutely nothing like I'd pictured at all. He was a different age, height, had a different style, voice. He was nothing like what I expected, and I had a very hard time reconciling my mental picture with the actual.

            Sometimes the different between our expectation and reality is more significant though. I’ve occasionally met with folks in my ministry who are surprised to discover that I’m the pastor. This was particularly true in my first parish. In my first two appointments, I was the first clergy woman to ever serve that church. But I found it wasn’t being a woman that threw people for a loop – it was my age. When I started in Oneida, I was just 24. My office was the first one you would reach in the church. It had a sign over it: Pastor’s Study. It had one desk in the office, and one person at the desk: me. And yet, still, people would come in, look in the office, look at me, and say, “Is the pastor in?” I wish I could capture in pictures the look of surprise on the faces when I responded, “that’s me!” And yet, I found myself doing the same thing: when I was attending a conference on social justice ministries, I attended a workshop with the executive director of one of the organizations. To my surprise, she was very young. I could feel my surprise and wonder. I had to remind myself: isn’t that the very reaction I get all the time? When it comes to people meeting or shattering our expectations, we have to work very hard at not judging books by their covers, lest we miss the important message someone has to reveal to us.

Today our gospel text again focuses on John the Baptist, although we skip ahead a bit, farther into the gospel of Matthew, and at issue is expectations. Are they being shattered? Fulfilled? Both? John is in prison – he was put there for criticizing King Herod Antipas for his adultery – Herod married his brother’s wife – causing both Herod and new wife Herodias to divorce – Herod from his wife, Herodias from Herod’s own brother – Herod Phillip. Today such an action might be considered questionable but legal. In Herod’s day it was both immoral and against Jewish law. John the Baptist spoke out and spoke the truth, as was his custom, and it landed him in jail.

While he’s there, he sends some of his followers – yes, John had followers of his own – he sends some of them to Jesus to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John, who has risked so much, and will ultimately give his own life in order to stand for the truth, to preach the message of repentance and forgiveness – he wants to make very sure the person he’s put it on the line for is the person he thinks. Jesus and John may be cousins, but they’ve travelled in very different words, Jesus always among the crowds, and John in the wilderness, in a place set apart. Their approaches are so very different, and by now, by this point in Matthew’s gospel, it should be apparent to John that the one he described in our text last week as wielding a winnowing fork, like an ax lying at the root of the trees – well, this Jesus is very different than John expected. He must be sure. Is Jesus the one?

Jesus tells them to return to John and tell him what they’ve seen: “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” Jesus is paraphrasing words from the prophet Isaiah, words that he read from the scroll at the beginning of his preaching ministry. They’re words that indicate that Jesus sees himself fulfilling Isaiah’s vision. And they say to John: what does the evidence tell you? What do you see? You see the results – the good fruit perhaps – and that should tell you who I am.

As John’s disciples leave, Jesus turns to question the crowd, now turning the conversation to who John is, what John’s identity means. Jesus wants to know what the people were hoping to see when they went out to see John. A spectacle? A sham? The real thing – a prophet? Yes, Jesus says, a prophet, and more than a prophet. One announcing the arrival of the kingdom of God. Our passage closes with someone confusing words – Jesus says that even though John is the greatest of those born of women, yet still the least in the kingdom of God is greater than John. How can that be? Well, it seems that Jesus is trying to draw a line – to show that while John was announcing the kingdom – actually being part of this kingdom of God that’s at hand – that’s the best thing of all.

Is Jesus what John expected? Is John the messenger that the crowds expected? Does Jesus act in our lives as we’ve expected? Perhaps you’ve heard this little joke, this fable of sorts. A person was trapped in their house after a flood, waiting for help. He prayed and prayed for God to rescue him. He had faith God would hear his prayer. The water started to rise in his house. His neighbor urged him to leave and offered him a ride to safety. The man yelled back, “I am waiting for God to save me.” The neighbor drove off in his pick-up truck. The man continued to pray. As the water began rising in his house, he had to climb up to the roof. A boat came by with some people heading for safe ground. They yelled at the man to grab a rope they were ready to throw and take him to safety. He told them that he was waiting for God to save him. They shook their heads and moved on. The man continued to pray, believing with all his heart that he would be saved by God. The flood waters continued to rise. A helicopter flew by and a voice came over a loudspeaker offering to lower a ladder and take him off the roof. The man waved the helicopter away, shouting back that he was waiting for God to save him. The helicopter left. The flooding water came over the roof and caught him up and swept him away. He drowned. When he reached heaven and asked, “God, why did you not save me? I believed in you with all my heart. Why did you let me drown?” God replied, “I sent you a pick-up truck, a boat and a helicopter and you refused all of them. What else could I possibly do for you?”

Can we hear God’s voice if God doesn’t call us exactly the way we expected? The season of Advent is about longing, waiting, but I think it also about what is revealed to us – the things that we discover that shatter our expectations in the best of ways. God is so much more than we expect. But there’s more to it than that. If Jesus is different than we expect, if God shatters our expectations, it is so that we can be different than we expect of ourselves too. That’s what John preached about. That’s what Jesus taught about and longed for – for the people – for us – to be different than the low expectations we set for ourselves. Actually, throughout the New Testament, the writers of the epistles talk about what and who we really are in God being revealed. Paul says, “For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” And in 1 John we find words often part of funeral liturgies: Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him.” That’s exactly what I think Advent is, as we move into the blessings of Christmas – Jesus is revealed – and as it turns out, we are in fact revealed to be like him, made in God’s image, imitators of Christ. At least, we can set that as our aim, our purpose, our hope.

In the unexpected, God is revealed to us. Examine your life. In what situations is God showing up in unexpected ways? In what people can you catch glimpses of God revealed where you weren’t even looking? How can you be more than you expected of yourself, as the changing power of God’s love is at work in you? Sometimes things aren’t as we expect. And thank God for that. Amen.

Sermon for Second Sunday of Advent, "Redefining Christmas: Repent"

Sermon 12/5/10

Matthew 3:1-12, Romans 15:4-13

Redefining Christmas: Repent

            As you might know, a small group of us are currently enjoying a Bible study called, “Christmas from the Backside,” written by J. Ellsworth Kalas. Kalas takes different themes: Christmas, Easter, Parables, Old Testament Stories, etc., and tries to help the reader look at them from new points of view. His first chapter in our study was called, “The Scandal of Christmas.” Kalas says that although the idea of the tiny baby in the manger is a lovely idea, Christmas really begins with a scandal that we don’t like to own up to. Christmas only happens, we only needed, and need Christmas, he says, because of the scandal, and the scandal is that we’re sinners. He argues that we try to think of sin as things that other people do – sin as drugs or crime or adultery or addictions – things that other people do, but in reality sin is being disobeying God. When we disobey God, we sin. We might try to give it a softer name – like, “we’ve made mistakes.” But we’re sinners. We sin. “When we live below our best potential,” he says, “when we’re mediocre when we ought to be fine, cheap when we ought to be noble, shoddy when we should be upright – this is sin. When we’re anything less than godly, it’s because we’re involved in this scandal called sin.”

            So we’re caught up in this scandal of sin, and that puts us in need of Christmas, because we need saving. We need a Savior. Our Advent hymns reflect that – the meaning of Christmas that we long for – think of our opening hymn today – Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus. In it we sing, “From our sins and fears, release us. Let us find our rest in thee.” Whether we realize it or not, the longing of Advent, the waiting with anticipation – we wait for someone that can free us from the mess of sin we find ourselves in.

            With that preamble, maybe John the Baptist in the wilderness starts to make more sense as an Advent text. John the Baptist definitely seems to stir up scandal. He’s a dramatic figure, causing a scene, not one to go unnoticed. And he’s ready to talk about the scandal of sin. John arrives on the scene preaching the same gospel that Jesus will preach: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” although Jesus will preach it with a very different tone. People were coming out into the desert to hear John, and they were being baptized by him, a symbolic act showing that they were confessing their sins and changing their lives. But when the Pharisees and Sadducees came to John, he had no welcome words for them, perhaps suspecting that they were there to check up on him and test him as they would so often with Jesus. “You brood of vipers,” John exclaims, “who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

Still, John calls them to repent too: “Bear fruit worthy of repentance,” he says. In other words: Are you confessing your sinfulness? Has your life changed? Show me. He tells them they won’t be safe just because they are Jews by birth – they have to bear their own fruit from good living, and can’t rely on their ancestors, or anything external. Repentance has to come from within. John goes on to describe what it is like with the messiah just about to arrive. “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees,” John says, “every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. [The messiah’s] winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and . . . the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” John leaves us challenged: what kind of fruit are our lives bearing? When Jesus does come, does begin his own preaching ministry, his calls for repentance carry a perhaps more compassionate tone than John’s. But I feel like we need John’s voice too, his sense of extreme urgency. John wants us to act and act now. Has your life changed? Show me.

If the scandal of Christmas is that we’re sinners, in need of saving, then the work of Advent is repentance, so that when Christmas comes, we have the fruit of our changed hearts to offer to the Christ child. We’ve talked before about the meaning of repentance – remember? It means, literally, to change your mind. Not just change your mind, say, about what you wanted to have for lunch today, but to change your mind, change your mind so that you’re going not in the wrong direction, but in God’s direction. That’s what John asks. For repentance.

The Pharisees and Sadducees show up to see John the Baptist too – even they come to be baptized. But John has harsher words for them. Because they want the newness of baptism, the forgiveness of baptism, the fresh start of baptism, without the work of repentance. John says to them, “Do not presume to say to yourselves, We have Abraham as our ancestor.” In other words, it seems, they’re trying to count themselves in on the shirttails of their ancestors, trying to take credit for the faithful living done by those before them. But one tree can’t bear fruit for another. Each one is accountable for their own good fruit. Each one has to choose repentance – or not, and let the good fruit – or otherwise, tell the story of the choices.

This week my home will go through a bit of a transformation. I wouldn’t say I’m a terribly messy person, but if you’ve seen my office, you get an idea of what my home is like. I tend to have piles of things here and there. Clutter. And sadly, at home, I don’t have a Bill Jacques that comes in and cleans up after me. So this week, I will spend a lot of time cleaning, getting ready for Open House next Sunday. I’ll spend a lot of time preparing – shopping, baking, decorating. And a lot of time doing things like dusting and mopping and vacuuming and other unpleasant things. You don’t expect to have a party without preparing. Getting ready. Cleaning up before. And then cleaning up after. All my preparation isn’t required – I could let you all show up at my house next week and see what happened. But you’d all have to help clear off space at the table. And there might not be enough chairs for everyone. And if you could only eat food that was already in my cupboards, you’d be in big trouble, unless you really love cereal as much as I do. It just doesn’t make sense not to prepare for something I know is coming. Especially when my preparations will make the party the joy I know it can be.

Advent is a time to prepare our hearts. We know what’s coming – who is coming. Why wouldn’t we prepare? This season is filled Christmas classics on TV. You probably have a favorite. My favorite is an 80s classic – Santa Clause, the Movie. Anybody remember that one? It starred Dudley Moore as an elf that gets caught up in mass producing toys? Anyone? Anyway, you should take a look at some of the Christmas specials this year, even, maybe especially ones aimed at children. They’re remarkably on task in telling the story of repentance. How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a perfect example – the Grinch finally realizes, well, his sinfulness, repents, takes his life in a new direction, has his heart grow bigger and bigger, and shows the fruit of his repentance in his actions – he reconciles himself with the community, makes repayment for his wrongdoing, and showers others with his newly-found love.

If these children’s shows and stories can figure out repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation, why do we have such a hard time with it? I wonder if, like the Pharisees and Sadducees, we just get stuck right at the start, trying to find a way around repentance, trying to find a way that doesn’t have us admitting the scandal – we’re sinners, as bad as the rest. We need Christmas, because we need saving.

The good news is Christmas is coming. Not even three weeks away. Prepare. Prepare the way of Lord. Make the paths straight. Bear fruit worthy of repentance, for the kingdom of God is coming near. Amen.