Sermon for the First Sunday after Christmas, Year C, "Beautiful Feet," Isaiah 52:7-10

Sermon 12/26/21

Isaiah 52:7-10

Beautiful Feet

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’” I love these words, this imagery, from the prophet Isaiah. Although Isaiah had his own context and other situations and visions in mind, we in the church have not been able to help hearing his words as a Christmas text. Messengers who announce good news, peace, salvation? Visions of the heavenly host of angels singing to shepherds in a field fill our minds. 

But for me, the first response I have to this text is to think of my week at Creative Arts Camp at Aldersgate, one of our conference’s church camps, the summer between elementary school and junior high. At Creative Arts Camp, we put on a musical, and our musical that year was The Friendship Company, based on Christian singer Sandi Patty’s album for children. One of the songs on that album? “Beautiful Feet.” Here are some of the lyrics: 

There are feet that skip and play

There are feet that run away

There are feet that love a race and win or lose

There are chubby feet and small

And strong feet to kick a ball

But beautiful are the feet that bring good news.

There are feet that sleekly swim

Through the water wearing fins

There are feet that shimmy up the tallest trees

There are happy feet and sad

There are aching feet and mad

But beautiful are the feet that publish peace.

Those are beautiful feet

Beee-uuu-ti-ful feet!

Dutiful, cute-i-ful lett!

Tried and true-ti-ful feet

Me-ti-ful

You-ti-ful

Do you have beautiful feet!

I was old enough to outwardly find this song kind of cheesy, and young enough to enjoy singing such a goofy piece, and all these decades later, “But beautiful are the feet that bring good news” still rings in my head - this song won’t let go. 

What does it mean to have beautiful feet? Do you have beautiful feet? I’m sure some of us don’t like the way our feet look, and some people don’t like feet altogether. Some people have feet that don’t cooperate with what they want them to do. Some people have injured feet, or don’t have feet at all. But I don’t think this verse is trying to focus on beautiful feet by any typical measures. This verse isn’t about pedicured, polished feet. This passage is praising whatever it is that gets you where you are going to accomplish a most important task: carrying peace, bringing good news, and announcing salvation. This passage is praising the messengers who carry God’s news to people who so need to hear it. 

In the Bible, we have a word for people who carry messages for God: angels. When we see the word “angel” in the Bible, it literally means messenger of God. What usually pops into our minds when we think of angels are the haloed figures that we see in Christmas pageants. And indeed, angels, God’s messengers, are key figures in the Christmas story. An angel tells Mary that she will give birth to Jesus. An angel tells Joseph not to divorce Mary and dissolve their relationship. Angels tell the shepherds where to find Jesus, and what Jesus’s birth means. Angels protect Jesus after his birth from Herod’s deadly maneuvers by again speaking to Joseph. They’re pretty central to the story. 

But, God’s messengers aren’t just these divine, ethereal beings. The word for regular old human messenger is the same word we use for angels - and that’s because the task is the same. Messengers carry news. And God wants us to be messengers of God’s good news, God’s Christmas message, God’s peace and salvation and joy and justice too. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation.” No halo required. 

Who has been a Christmas messenger for you? Who has delivered the Christmas message to you? I’m not just asking about who has told you the nativity story of Luke 2. I’m wondering who has told you the message of the heart of Christmas - that God is with us, the God has been made flesh in Jesus, like we read about in our text from John 1? Who has brought you a message of peace - not just the abstract, fluffy message of peace, but who has shared a message with you that has helped you experience the peace of Christ deep in your heart? Who has helped you receive a message of salvation - a message that God seeks wholeness for your life, and your right relationship with God and neighbor? Who has helped you hear and receive and trust God’s good news of unconditional, unrelenting, unshakable love? How beautiful are those who have brought you these life-changing messages! And how beautiful are you - down to your core - when you are messengers of Christmas, angels in your own right, sharing peace, joy, and salvation! 

Aside from the “Beautiful Feet” song that has stuck forever in my mind, there’s another song that our Isaiah text calls to mind - a Christmas carol - and one we’ll sing to close our worship today. “Go, Tell It on the Mountain” also draws on themes from this Isaiah text. It was never a favorite carol of mine growing up, but once I learned more about its history, I started appreciating it more deeply, and it has certainly been on my mind this week. 

A few decades after the end of the Civil War, an African American choir director in Tennessee named John Wesley Work, Jr. set out with a goal of  preserving the spirituals of black Americans from the years of slavery which had mostly been passed on by oral tradition. Work's project influenced nearby Fisk College, a historically black college, and their choir - the Fisk Jubilee Singers - took the spirituals Work collected on tour with them around the country, and even to England to perform for Queen Victoria. The Fisk Jubilee Singers  saved the debt-ridden College from closure with their touring, and they have been credited with keeping the Negro spiritual alive. “[Jubilee] singer Ella Sheppard recalled, ‘The slave songs were never used by us then in public. They were associated with slavery and the dark past and represented the things to be forgotten. Then, too, they were sacred to our parents, who used them in their religious worship.”” (1) 

“Go, Tell It on the Mountain” was one of these songs. Theologian James Cone says that the hymn conveys the message: “the conquering King, and the crucified Lord . . . has come to bring peace and justice to the dispossessed of the land.  That is why the slave wanted to ‘go tell it on de mountain.” With its peace and justice themed Christmas message, “Go, Tell It” has been adapted many times. It was used as a freedom song during the Civil Rights movement. Peter, Paul and Mary recorded a version. And one version included a verse about segregationist Alabama Governor George Wallace. “I wouldn’t be Governor Wallace, I’ll tell you the reason why, I’d be afraid He might call me And I wouldn’t be ready to die.” 

The original author of the spiritual is unknown, but thankfully Work included it in his project, and his brother Frederick helps draw attention to it. They paired the text of the spiritual with a joyful tune that seemed to express the hope and liberation of Christmas message. The earliest published version of the hymn included the refrain that’s familiar to us, with some different verses, like “When I was a seeker I sought both night and day. I ask de Lord to help me, An’ He show me de way.” Eventually, John Work Jr.’s son, John Work III, decided to expand on the song - it is unclear if he uncovered existing additional verses that had been lost, or if he wrote his own new verses to the hymn, but in 1940 his version was published, the version we know today. By the mid 1950s, the hymn was being included in some mainline Protestant hymnals. Go, tell it on the mountain! Jesus is born! Let peace and justice be proclaimed. 

That’s our task friends. Christmas Day was yesterday. But now in the season of Christmas and beyond, our task is to be messengers of all that we’ve heard and seen at Christmas, all that we’ve experienced of God and God’s peace and justice, all that we’ve known of God’s love. How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those who announce peace, good news, and salvation! So let’s go and tell it - Jesus is born, God become flesh, God with us, always. Amen. 

1. This section of the sermon uses this resource (St. Peter’s) and the one Hawn resource listed below. All quotations come from the Hawn resource. “Advent Devotional Day 7,” St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, https://www.stpeterslutheranyork.com/blog/advent-devotional-day-7

2. C. Michael Hawn, “History of Hymns: “Go, Tell it On the Mountain,”” Discipleship Ministries. https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-go-tell-it-on-the-mountain-1

Sermon for Christmas Eve, "The Irrational Season," Luke 2:1-20

Sermon 12/24/21

Luke 2:1-20

The Irrational Season

One of my roles as a doctoral student at Drew Theological School is serving as the Chapel Graduate Assistant. I assist in crafting the liturgies for the worship services, coordinate guest preachers, prepare the worship space and slides for the screens, and so on. It’s a really great outlet for me since I’m not serving as pastor of a local church anymore while I’m in school to do some of the ministry tasks I love, like planning and leading in worship. Our last service of the semester was a service of Advent lessons and carols, and we alternated scripture readings, poems, and musical selections. We started the service with a very brief poem by Madeleine L’Engle called “After Annunciation.” 

“This is the irrational season

when love blooms bright and wild.

Had Mary been filled with reason

there’d have been no room for the child.” 

When we read the poem, it got a chuckle - no doubt the congregation thinking about children, and the fact that they bring both joy and chaos, and no matter how parents and doting family members prepare for the arrival of children in their lives, thinking you can be “ready”, really and truly “prepared” for the arrival of someone as unpredictable as children are is indeed just that - irrational. And so everyone chuckled knowingly. “Reason” and “children” don’t always go together. 

But I think this little verse is also quite deep. “This is the irrational season, when love blooms bright and wild. Had Mary been filled with reason, there’d have been no room for the child.” What’s so irrational about the Christmas story? I’ve been thinking about all the aspects of the telling of Jesus’ birth that we might call irrational. L’Engle’s poem reflects on the annunciation, the act of the angel Gabriel, God’s messenger, telling Mary that she would give birth to the Christ Child. That happens in Luke 1, before the nativity story we read from Luke 2 tonight. Everytime I read about Mary hearing the shocking news of her own pregnancy, I’m amazed at how she reacts. She asks just one question - how can this be? And then she response to God saying, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” I would have asked a million questions. Why me? Why now? Is this for real? What if I can’t do this? What if people don’t believe me when I try to explain? Won’t I be at risk? Isn’t there a better way? Wouldn’t it have been more sensible, more rational to ask questions? To get the details? To ask what God was thinking? Aren’t God’s expectations of Mary unreasonable? Isn’t her response unreasonable? 

And then there’s Joseph. Joseph’s story features mostly in Matthew’s gospel. Does he act rationally? Reasonably? He does at first. When he finds out Mary is pregnant, and he knows he isn’t the father, he resolves to quietly part ways with Mary. That’s a sensible course of action. But Joseph starts to get visits from God’s messengers in his dreams, convincing him that Mary’s child is of God, and that he should stay with Mary despite what people will think. And Joseph does. Aren’t God’s expectations of Joseph - that he’ll just mold his life around Mary’s and this child who doesn’t quite belong to him - unreasonable? 

Of course, the most irrational of all in the Christmas story is God, who acts in all sorts of unreasonable, unpredictable ways. God chooses Mary, a common young Jewish woman who doesn’t particularly stand out in any way. God comes in human form in a way that’s likely to make people doubt Mary, doubt Joseph, and disbelieve that Jesus is God in the flesh. God makes a big heavenly dazzling announcement about Jesus’ birth - but this heavenly dazzling announcement, a glorious display of heavenly messengers filling the skies - goes to a bunch of shepherds, people on the fringes of society, hanging out with animals, not other people. Jesus’s birth isn’t announced to anyone who might be described as influential. Jesus is instead born where there seems to be no room for him, where no one is likely to notice. Indeed, Christmas is the irrational season because God seems to act so irrationally in entering the world in human form. Yet, this is the irrational season when love blooms bright and wild, and God is determined that we find room for the child. God’s love for the world - for me and for you - is bright and wild, irrepressible, and so here God comes, in unreasonable ways, tucking into unexpected places even when it seems like there is no room for God in all the places you’d think to look first. 

In response to this good news, this great joy, this very irrational story that has gifted us with bright and wild and blooming love, how shall we respond? What is our call, if we are to be Christmas people? As the poem suggests, I think we’re meant to imitate Mary, and figure out what unreasonable responses the gospel story, the birth of Christ, calls us to make. I think for us to make room for the Christ child, God calls us to do some irrational things. What do I mean?

The first response that popped into my head is thinking about my irrational mother! My mom lives in a small two bedroom apartment. Most of the time, it is just the right size for her. She’s got a bedroom, and there’s a guest bedroom for when her children or grandchildren are visiting. But right now, I’m staying with her for a month while I’m on break from school. And my roommate came to spend Christmas week with us. And my brother is about to arrive, visiting from Illinois. And another brother is coming to stay for a few days because he doesn’t want to miss out on seeing everyone else. And so my mother has carefully arranged how to make everyone fit with air mattresses and rollaway beds and doubling up in rooms and napping on couches and piling suitcases into corners. And it is chaotic, and occasionally claustrophobic. And nothing brings out our childhood sibling squabbles like cramming us into a small space together for a week. And my mother loves every second of it, because her heart is full of love and joy in this season and she will always make sure there is room. There’s room for everyone in her home, and making sure we know there’s room is a priority for her. I wonder how I can take that spirit, her irrational spirit, how we can take Mary’s irrational spirit, God’s irrational unreasonable way of loving extravagantly, and embody it in our own lives. 

I think we act “irrationally” and “unreasonably,” at least according to the world’s measure, when we say yes, as Mary did, to God’s requests, even when what God is asking seems impossible. What has God been challenging you to do that seems impossible? What if you said yes? 

What if we acted like the angels, and carried messages of God’s grace, of hope, and of joy to the world. What unsuspecting people are longing and needing a message like the angels delivered? How can we work for peace in a world where peace seems so far off, like an irrational dream that can never be attained? 

What if we tried to live in lives patterned after God, in whose image we are created? We’d focus our attention not on the privileged and elite, but on the marginalized, those pushed to the fringes. We’d visit our contemporary equivalents of fields of shepherds and animal stables instead of places of wealth and status, and burst forth with pronouncements of divine favor. 

What if we’re irrational like Joseph, and humbly take our place as supporters of those we see taking big risks for God, even when it means we’re not the starring player, and even when no one else will lend support? 

When we commit to peace in a world of violence, when we reject the typical ways of measuring success, when we love in the face of hatred, and we love without condition, when we listen for God’s calling voice, and try our best to answer with our whole hearts, no matter what risks God is asking us to take - we are embodying this irrational season, making room for the child, and letting love, wild and bright, take root in our lives. Friends, my prayer for you this Christmas is that you may remember that this is an irrational season. To receive this gift of God with us, to make room for the child, we might need to be a little unreasonable. Instead of being reasonable this season, let’s be hopeful, and faithful. Let’s be joyful peacemakers. Let’s be irrational, extravagant, unconditional givers of love, and may that love, the love of God, bloom bright and wild in our world, in our hearts. Amen.