Sermon, "Disney and the Gospels: Beauty and the Beast," Acts 9:1-22

Sermon 2/3/19

Acts 9:1-22

Disney and the Gospels: Beauty and the Beast

Today, we’re wrapping up our sermon series on Disney and the Gospels with a look at a classic - Beauty and the Beast. Ok, so, Acts isn’t one of the Gospels, but we’re talking about the literal meaning of gospel here today - good news - so I figure it’s ok. I’ll admit: Beauty and the Beast isn’t one of my favorites. The animated version was released in the fall of 1991, when I had just started junior high, and I think in my head that meant that I was too old to really love cartoon movies. My childhood favorite was - is - The Little Mermaid, released just two years before when I apparently considered it still acceptable to enjoy a Disney film. But I still enjoy it - I took Sam to see it when it came back to theatres again some years ago. I really should have made Hannah Kingsley help me write my sermon today - she wrote her whole honors thesis for college on Beauty and the Beast, so if you’re a big fan, talk to Hannah ask to read her project.

The story of Beauty and the Beast begins with an enchantress disguised as a beggar seeking shelter from a selfish, cold prince, in exchange for the rose she offers him. He refuses, and when he does, she curses him and his servants. She turns him into a beast, and his servants into household objects, and says that unless he learns to love someone and earn their love in return before the last petal falls from the rose and he turns 21, he and his household will never return to their human forms.

Eventually, the Beast meets Belle when she exchanges herself for her father, who has been captured by the Beast. He starts out very angry at Belle when she tries to figure out what the enchanted rose is all about, but after he’s injured, and she helps nurse him back to health, he starts to develop feelings for her. As he tries to make Belle happy, and as she pushes him to do caring, thoughtful things that he’s shunned for so long, his heart begins to warm. Belle and the Beast share a romantic dance as we hear Mrs. Potts, the teapot, sing the song the choir shared today: “Tale as old as time. True as it can be. Barely even friends Then somebody bends Unexpectedly. Just a little change, Small to say the least. Both a little scared, Neither one prepared. Beauty and the beast. Tale as old as time. Tune as old as song. Bittersweet and strange. Finding you can change. Learning you were wrong.”

At one point, Belle realizes using the Beast’s magic mirror that her father is stranded in the woods, trying to rescue her, and the Beast, who has fallen in love, lets her go to try to save him. Belle takes her father home. In the meantime, the townsfolk, scared of the Beast and riled up by the vain villain Gaston  make their way to his castle to attack him. The Beast doesn’t defend himself, too sad that Belle has gone until he sees that she, too, has returned to the castle to try to protect him. He fights off Gaston, but Gaston stabs him in the back. The Beast seems to die, and Belle, distraught confesses her love for him, just as the last petal is falling from the rose. But she’s in time. The curse is broken, the prince and his servants return to their human forms, and of course, they all live happily ever after.

I’ve been thinking about the Beast this week, and how he changes. It takes him a long time, doesn’t it? Even with the threat of a permanent curse hanging over his head, he makes it all the way to within a year of being permanently cursed without seeming to make any effort at learning to love or be loved in return. The fact that he has a whole household of people who are suffering because of his behavior doesn’t seem to impress him. But finally, when an opportunity to change falls into his lap, he reluctantly, even half-heartedly at first, takes it. “Just a little change, small to say the least … finding you can change. Learning you were wrong.”

What about you - have you changed? For the better? Have you had a time where you had to turn your life around? Where you’d gotten off track, but were able to bend, to learn, to grow - to change? Someone posed a question to me in a message this week. “Can people change?” Maybe you wonder that too - is it really possible for us to change? After all, we make commitments and resolutions and promises ourselves to do better in all sorts of areas of our lives, only to find ourselves falling into the same old patterns. Can we really change? For a while, when I was on Sabbatical, I was working regularly on surveys that paid a dollar or two to earn some extra money. And I often encountered some standard questions, some measures that are used in lots of psychological tests to provide a kind of baseline understanding of someone. And one set of these questions asks whether or not we believe people can change who they are, or whether we believe that people are immutable, incapable of really changing the core of who they are.

I’m not sure I always answered the questions the same way. Depends a bit on how I was feeling that day. But if I was thoughtful with my answer, I would always respond: Yes, yes we can change. Thank God, we can change. Because if we can’t change, I’m really not sure what life is all about, seriously. If I am bound in, locked in to never being able to break free from the ways I fail to be what I think God is calling me to be, if I am forever bound in sin, if I am forever bound to repeat the same mistakes and never truly learn anything, if I can never be impacted enough by the experiences I have and the people I meet and the love I experience, and above all, if God’s grace can’t change my heart - what is the point? Why try? That’s not to say that changing our hearts and lives isn’t hard. So hard. We know it is. But possible? I believe it. I rely on it.

One of the most dramatic stories of change from the scriptures comes from our text from Acts today. It’s the story of the conversion of the apostle Paul. When we first hear of Paul in the book of Acts, the book that describes the stories of what the followers of Jesus did to start what we know as the church after Jesus’s resurrection and return to God, we find Paul being called Saul. He’s a Pharisee - an expert in interpreting the laws of of Judaism, and we find that he means to enforce the laws at any cost. He’s been particularly pursuing folks who are followers of The Way, one of the first names for Jesus’ disciples. We see him in Acts standing as witness to the stoning of Stephen, the first martyr of the church, who refused to renounce his belief that Jesus was the Messiah, even when it cost him his life. As Stephen was stoned to death, those who executed him threw their cloaks at Saul’s feet. This background makes Acts 9 all the more stunning.

Saul is on his way to Damascus to get permission that he might capture anyone he finds who is part of this Jesus movement and bring them to Jerusalem to stand trial. And as he travels, a light from heaven flashes, blinding him, and he hears a voice: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Saul asks “Who are you?” And the voice responds, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” Jesus then tells Paul to get up, get to Damascus, and await instructions.

For three days, Saul can’t see anything. He doesn’t eat or drink. At the same time, a man named Ananias has a vision, telling him that Saul is having a vision of Anananis laying hands him to restore his sight. Ananias is skeptical. He knows the reputation Saul has, that he has been hurting the followers of Jesus. But Jesus says to Ananias: “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles … I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So Ananias does as directed, and tells Saul he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, and he prays and lays hands on Saul. As he does this, something the text describes as “like scales” falls from Saul’s eyes, and his sight is restored. He gets up, gets baptized, and regains his strength, and immediately begins to preach a message of Jesus in the synagogues - that Jesus is the Messiah. And everyone is astonished.  

Why does God reach out to Paul in the way that he does on the road to Damascus? Jesus never, at least as the scriptures record, never speaks to anyone in this direct way again to start their journey of conversion, of changing a heart.. So why Paul? Certainly, God working in Paul to change his heart and then to use Paul to spread the message of Jesus is a powerful testament to the life and work and ministry of Jesus. Who better to use than a totally changed, totally transformed Paul? But I think we can envy Paul’s experience a little, when we think about trying to change our lives. It feels so easy for Paul in some ways. I mean, we could change our lives, turn around, go God’s way completely and wholeheartedly too if Jesus knocked us down on the road and spoke to us directly from heaven, right?

But here’s the thing. First, I think God is really going easy on when God helps us change our lives and hearts gradually, step by step. Most of us aren’t ready to completely give up control to God all at once, and God doesn’t require that of most of us all at once. God calls to us, nudges and lures us, is patient with us as we take one step forward and two back, loving us all along until we feel God’s love deep in our bones and let God’s love motivate the transformation of our hearts and lives. Paul’s own faith journey goes in fits and starts even with his dramatic beginning. He struggles with his faith, struggles with his ministry, struggles with discouragement and failure and setbacks too. But he knows that his new life is a promise from God he’s experienced because of Jesus at work in him, and because of that, he perseveres, and continues to let God shape him long past the road to Damascus.

Can we change? With God’s help, we can. Sometimes God’s help comes like a blinding light that causes the scales to fall from our eyes. Sometimes God’s help comes and helps us make the little changes, like the Beast did with Belle, slowly making room in his heart to give and receive love and kindness. Either way, any way, our job is to seek to live in a way that keeps us open to God’s transformational work in us, ready to participate with God’s power to change us, ready to nurture what God does in our lives, to tend to our tender, freshly changed lives.

Can we change? I’ve been keeping a journal since I was in fifth grade. And sometimes, when I feel discouraged, I’ll read through some of my entries from over the years. Sure, some things I struggle with I’ve been struggling with since my first entries. But I can also find in the pages my journey into ministry, my faith maturing over the years, my growing to understand who I am and who God has called me to be, the times that I’ve taken risks and had God see me through, or times that I’ve failed but been loved by God and community anyway, and been able to keep at it, keep working to grow into who God knows I can be. Friends, God is at work in you too, and I know that the hand of God on your life has changed you. We can’t help but be changed by God’s touch on our lives. Trusting that, the more we open our hearts to God, the more we’ll find the new life we seek. Amen.

Sermon, "Disney and the Gospels: Frozen," Romans 5:1-8, John 15:1-17

Sermon 1/20/19

John 15:1-17

Disney and the Gospels: Frozen

Well, I’m pretty sure the storm is my fault. I decided to preach a sermon titled “Frozen,” and the weather very nicely complied! Sorry about that! How many of you have seen Disney’s Frozen? I suspect even if you haven’t seen the film, you’ve heard some iteration of it’s most popular song, “Let It Go.” I took my nephew Sam to see the film when it came out in 2013, who was then about 6 years old. I think I was more interested in it than he was, but he went along with me anyway. And as Elsa, one of the two main characters, belted out “Let It Go,” I thought, “Wow - this is good! This is going to be a hit! Also, of course, it is an alto power ballad, and altos never get enough of the awesome songs, so I was a fan.

“Frozen” is inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's classic fairy tale “The Snow Queen.” When the film opens, Anna and Elsa, sisters, are little girls, princesses. Elsa, the older sister, has a magical ability - she can create and control snow and ice. Anna and Elsa are quite close, until Elsa accidentally injures Anna with her magic. Anna is healed, but their parents become extremely protective, and Elsa becomes sheltered, not wanting to hurt Anna, who is too little to understand why Elsa is pushing her away. When the girls are teenagers, their parents die at sea during a storm. Eventually, the girls grow into young women, and Elsa is about to be crowned Queen of her land. Elsa is terrified that people will find out about her powers. Meanwhile, impetuous Anna is falling in love at first sight with a handsome prince. When Elsa finds out the Prince Hans has proposed to Anna, she loses control of her magic, scaring everyone.

Devastated, Elsa runs away, making herself a palace of ice to live in by herself. It is then that she sings the words we hear in “Let It Go”: “Don't let them in, don't let them see, Be the good girl you always have to be. Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know. Well, now they know. Let it go, let it go. Can't hold it back anymore. Let it go, let it go. Turn away and slam the door. I don't care what they're going to say. Let the storm rage on. The cold never bothered me anyway.” What Elsa doesn’t realize, though, in her isolation, is that her magic has engulfed her whole homeland in an eternal winter.

Anna sets out to find her sister, to get her to end the winter. She leaves Prince Hans in charge, and sets out to get Anna. She makes many friends along the way like Kristoff, and Olaf the snowman, and finally gets to her sister. Elsa doesn’t think she can undo her magic - she’s never had that kind of control over it. In fact, during their confrontation, Elsa accidentally freezes Anna’s heart, a slow moving process that Anna can only stop if “an act of true love” reverses the spell. Kristoff races Anna back to her home so Hans can give her a true love kiss. But it turns out Hans has just been scheming to get control of the kingdom. Kristoff has genuinely fallen in love with Anna, and we’re led to think that perhaps he can be the one who saves her, but that’s not what happens. Instead, Elsa is captured by Hans’ people, but escapes, and Anna sees that Hans is about to kill Elsa. Anna jumps in front of her sister to save her, and she freezes solid. Elsa is devastated, but as she hugs her sister, Anna thaws out, because Anna performed an act of true love - she was willing to give her life in the stead of her sisters. Elsa realizes that she can use the power of love to control her magic. The sisters are reunited, and their homeland is saved.  

Frozen is another one of the newer Disney films that breaks out of the prince-rescues-princess mold, even poking fun at those tropes. It reminds us that acts of true love take many forms. The truest love in this story is the love between sisters, and especially in Anna’s willingness to put herself in harm’s way, to offer even her own life in order to save her sister. This is after her sister, hurting and angry, rejects years of Anna’s attempts to grow close to her again. It makes me wonder - who do we truly love? Who would we make sacrifices for? Are there some for whom we would even give our own lives if it was necessary?  

When we think about sacrifice and true love in light of our faith, from our perspective as followers of Jesus, of course our thoughts turn to the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus, when he was arrested, tried, and crucified. In some ways, when we think about the sacrifice Jesus makes, it seems rightly beyond what any of us can offer. The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Romans, recognizes that the way Jesus offers up his life is significantly different than the way most of us might be persuaded to be self-sacrificing. He writes, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.” In other words, Jesus offers his life as a demonstration of love for people who are … not so great … if you’re measuring by standards like how many good deeds someone has done or how carefully they uphold the laws or follow the commandments or how well they show love for God and neighbor. Jesus offers his life even for regular folks, and even for people that we might consider no good at all. That’s not how we, regular people, typically offer self-sacrificing behavior. We don’t usually go above and beyond for someone we consider no-good-at-all. We’d probably do it for our family, our dearest friends, even when they mess up. Sure. And maybe for someone we considered especially good, or especially innocent - we might be self-sacrificing for children who are so vulnerable, or for adults who evoke in us a sense of awe and admiration. For them, we might be able to give of ourselves sacrificially. But for someone who is no-good-at-all? Or even just a “regular” someone - how much of ourselves would we want to give? Paul says this is how we know how much God loves us: Even though we - yes, you and me - sometimes behave in ways that are no-good-at-all, Jesus is willing to give everything of himself, even his life - for us - yes, you and me. Indeed, that is an enormous gift, love immeasurable, and we do well to consider the magnitude of such an offering. We are humbled by Christ’s self-giving love for us.

But…I’m afraid, sometimes we are so bowled over by Christ’s self-giving love that we put it in a category that is “other” than what we can do, what we are called, in fact, to do, how we are called to live. In our reading from John’s gospel, we find Jesus talking to the disciples. He says to them, “‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you.” He says that we are his friends because he chose us, and he makes known to us everything that he knows from God. We’re to bear fruit that will last. He gives us these commands so that we might love one another.

Jesus is calling us to act like he does. And to do that, we need to love one another. Not just the people we already like. Jesus makes it clear throughout his teaching that loving our neighbors is second only in importance to loving God, and that Jesus’ definition of neighbor includes not only generically everyone, and certainly not just those who are kind to us - neighbors include even our enemies. So, to act like Jesus, we have to love one another. Even our enemies we’re meant to hold like friends in our hearts, if we want to love others like Jesus loves us. And if we want to love others like Jesus loves us? Well, Jesus does that by giving his own life. Greater love has no one than this, Jesus says: to lay down your life for your friends. If we love our enemies like Jesus loves us, and our enemies are meant to be counted as friends, then we’re meant to live sacrificially even in relation to our enemies. The kind of love Christ demonstrates is costly love, love that involves real sacrifices, and he calls us to follow him, to imitate him, even in this. Oof. It is much easier, isn’t it, to think of the sacrifice of Jesus as something so other than what we can do, than what we are called to. It is so much easier to put it on a level far beyond what we can reach than to entertain the idea that we might need to put ourselves on the line for the sake of our enemies. But Jesus calls us to be as much like him as we can be, and so we have some hard work cut out for us.

Friends, I don’t know that we will have to lay down our life literally in order to answer God’s call, that we will have to be like Anna, letting our hearts be Frozen to save the ones we love. But I wonder, as I look at the world around us, as I look at our nation, struggling with itself, as I look at how entrenched we can become in our worldviews and positions - I wonder what would happen if we started working to make enemies into friends, and if we started loving in a way that was self-sacrificing, putting the needs of the other before ourselves, acts of true love. What if you didn’t have to be right the next time you got into an argument? What if you gave up some of your time to nurture a relationship with someone who usually frustrates you, so that you could really spend time listening to them, understanding them better, showing them the love that they probably desperately need? What if you gave of your resources, your money, to support someone getting back on their feet, even if they’d made choices that baffle you or anger you, because you follow a God who gives endless second chances? What if you risked your comfort, your sense of safety, so that you could stand up for someone who was being persecuted, so that you could reach out to someone who had put themselves in a dangerous situation? What if enemies became friends, and you love your friends without reserve, and you can show no greater love for them than of giving of your very self so that they see God’s love embodied in you? Look at what Anna’s love did for Elsa. It changed Elsa’s whole life, her whole sense of herself to have someone love her the way Anna did. Imagine how being loved by you might change someone’s life. After all, hasn’t your life been changed by love?

God proves, God demonstrates love for us in this: Jesus died, full of love for us, even though we are sometimes not so great. Who do you love? Friends? Neighbors? Enemies? How will you demonstrate your love?  

Amen.

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Disney and the Gospels: Moana," Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon 1/6/2019

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

Disney and the Gospels: Moana

What comes to mind when you hear the word “journey”? (Aside, of course, from the the music of the awesome band Journey!) When I think in terms of literal journeys, trips, I think especially of the cross-country road trips I’ve taken. I’ve done three of them now, where I’ve driven out west and back. It was something I always wanted to do. When I was in my first appointment, I finally started making plans. I booked hotels. I reserved a place at the Grand Canyon, long on my list of places to see. I made plans to visit with friends. But just before I was about to start, I had a swollen lymph node that I had gotten checked out. My doctor didn’t think it was a big deal, but sent me for CT scan anyway. While I was on the first day of my road trip, driving somewhere in Ohio, I got the results: I had several enlarged lymph nodes, and the doctor wanted to check them out. I’m sure I could have continued on my trip, and seen my doctor when I got back, but I was now a panicked mess, and after one day of traveling, I canceled all the rest of my reservations, turned around, and went home. The lymph nodes - after a few more tests and more waiting - it was nothing. I was fine. But it was a few more years before I got to take my road trip. Finally, I again made all my plans and reservations, this time heading ultimately to Portland, where my brother Tim was living at the time. And I did it - I drove across the country. I visited my friends out west. I saw the Grand Canyon, still one of my favorite places. And once I made that first trip, and knew I could do it? Go cross-country by myself? I’ve made that journey west a couple of more times, and taken my mother to the Grand Canyon, and am even now thinking about when my next trip might be.

Or there are the metaphorical journeys. The journey of becoming a pastor was a long one. It took a lot of years - nine, in fact - from the time I started the ordination process to the time I became an elder. But that journey was actually pretty smooth. Things went basically as planned. I hit all the mile-markers as I expected, when I expected. God called, I answered, and followed the plan mapped out for me in detail. Other journeys are harder. You may remember me telling you that when I was appointed to Gouverneur, I was - reluctant. I had been serving a church that I loved, and I had been struggling with my sense of call, and had been trying to figure out ways to stay where I was and it just wasn’t working. I wasn’t expecting an appointment in the North Country. I took “the journey” of this appointment because it was what I had committed to as an elder who itinerates, goes from place to place as the Bishop sends us. But I wasn’t happy about it! I journeyed dragging my feet. It wasn’t long, though, before I discovered that God was of course with me on this journey too, and that I had been called to just the place I was supposed to be, to serve with a people I love.

What memorable journeys have you taken, literal or metaphorical, that stand out to you? This past week I posted about the trip I hope to take to Disney with my family next summer, and I found out people get pretty passionate sharing about their journeys to Disney World. Is there some place you traveled to that you really looked forward to, or that took a lot of effort to plan and execute? What about your metaphorical journeys? What goals have you set out and accomplished that took journeying through a lot of years, or a lot of paperwork, or a lot of assignments, or a lot of struggles to get there? What journeys were you eager to take? When did you set out dragging your feet the whole way?  I think of some of the journeys I know you have faced, or are even in the midst of now. We’ve got folks who have been on a journey for better health, or are starting out with the RipIt challenge. We’ve got young people who are journeying through school, through childhood, and young adulthood, and figuring out what journey God wants them to take as they look to college and beyond. We have some families who are journeying through preparing to welcome a new life. Some of our families are taking the journey that involves moving out of home into assisted living or to an apartment or in with family. Sometimes, we have folks who are taking that journey we all will - from life into death and life beyond. What journeys have you taken? Where has God called you?

For the next few weeks, we’ll be using themes from some Disney films to explore the teachings of Jesus, and first up is a fairly new Disney film, Moana. How many of you have seen Moana? I really enjoyed the movie. Like some of the other newer Disney films, it breaks the typical mold of a princess who spends half the movie waiting for a prince to come and save her. Moana is her own person. Moana is a young woman who feels called by the ocean. She’s felt the calling ever since she was a small child. She doesn’t know exactly what the ocean wants her to do, but she knows it has a journey in mind for her. Her parents, however, and her father in particular have other ideas. Her father is the chief of her village, and she will one day take that role. He wants her to be attentive to the tasks that will help her grow into her future as the leader of the community. And he doesn’t want anything to do with the ocean. The whole people used to be voyagers, but they stopped long ago, and discourage anyone from setting sail - especially a person who needs to stick around as a future leader.

The song Taylor sang for us today, “How Far I’ll Go,” is Moana singing of her longing to answer the call of the ocean, and head out on whatever journey it has in store for her. She sings, “I've been staring at the edge of the water 'Long as I can remember, never really knowing why. I wish I could be the perfect daughter But I come back to the water, no matter how hard I try. Every turn I take, every trail I track, Every path I make, every road leads back To the place I know, where I can not go, where I long to be. See the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls me And no one knows, how far it goes. If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me One day I'll know, if I go there's just no telling how far I'll go. I know everybody on this island, seems so happy on this island. Everything is by design. I know everybody on this island has a role on this island So maybe I can roll with mine. I can lead with pride, I can make us strong. I'll be satisfied if I play along But the voice inside sings a different song. What is wrong with me? See the light as it shines on the sea? It's blinding But no one knows, how deep it goes. And it seems like it's calling out to me, so come find me And let me know, what's beyond that line, will I cross that line?”

Eventually, of course, Moana does set sail, answers the call, and takes a journey that ends up saving her people from starvation, bring restoration and new life to her community. Her journey is filled with a lot of struggles, a lot of setbacks, a lot of people who try to keep her from doing what she feels she must. But she persists, and she completes the journey.

“But the voice inside sings a different song ... See the light as it shines on the sea? It's blinding But no one knows, how deep it goes. And it seems like it's calling out to me … What's beyond that line? Will I cross that line?” What is that voice inside you calling you to? Do you see the light? Are you seeking its source, figuring out how deep into your heart it goes? Are you answering the call?

There’s another journey we’re thinking about today, on this Epiphany Sunday. Matthew tells us that Herod was king during the time when Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Seemingly out of nowhere, some “wise men”, people who were famous for studying the stars - something between astrologers and astronomers perhaps, they show up “from the East,” a vague description of their origin, and ask Herod, “Where is the child born to be king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.” There are many astonishing things about these verses. Why would these wise folks care about the king of the Jews, a tiny little tribe in the scheme of the world? Why would they travel a distance to see him? Why would they want to worship him, since they certainly weren’t Jewish themselves? And did they think the child was Herod’s son? After all, Herod was king of the Jews, so if the child they’re looking for is anyone other than Herod’s son, they can’t believe Herod would be too excited to hear about another king being born. But clearly, whatever they saw in the sky, whatever the Star of Bethlehem meant to them, God was calling to them through it. They  journeyed a long distance, not knowing what they would see or find, only because they wanted to bring gifts, and worship. Have you ever set out on a journey with so many unknowns?

Herod, of course, is not excited to hear this news about some other potential king. So he gathers his other wise folks - chief priests and teachers of the law, and tries to figure out from them where a potential messiah (that is an anointed one, a label for a king) might be born. They figure out that Bethlehem is the place, and Herod then sends the visitors from the east to find the child. He says he wants them to report back, so that he, too, might worship this child. If the wise men were really very wise, that should set off alarm bells in their head. What king wants to bow down to another who might have claim on their throne? The wise men head to Bethlehem, are thrilled to see the child, and offer him their gifts, gifts for a king. And then, satisfied, they leave. Thankfully, they are warned about Herod’s intentions in a dream, and they go back home by a different route. Such a journey, to visit the Christ-child and bring him some gifts. We have no idea what happens to these folks later, how their journey impacts them, what they do next, how their lives are different. But we know this - they were called to a journey. They followed the star, seeking and searching until they got answers. They came face to face with Jesus, and they worshiped him and gave him their very best.

Inspired by Moana’s journey, and the journey of the wise men, I want you to search your hearts and ask God what journey is in store for you in 2019 and beyond? How will you follow God’s light, and where will it lead you? Are you brave enough to set out, guided by the star of Christ, even if you’re not sure what you will find where the light rests? To focus us on our journey this year, we’re receiving Star Gifts today, which will remind us to follow the light as we set out on our journeys.

I’d never heard of the practice of giving a Star Gift or Star Word on Epiphany until a year ago or so. I’m part of a group called “Rev Gals” on facebook that developed out of a group of clergywomen who kept blogs, especially about a decade ago, when everyone was blogging - myself included. In this group, we often share resources for ministry, and I noticed that a lot of people were talking about this Star Gift thing. I read the article that I also shared with you all in the newsletter this month, and on the same day I bookmarked the article, thinking to try sharing Star Gifts this year, Glenda sent me an article about the very same thing. I figured it was a pretty good sign that we should try it!

The original article says, “Every person who comes to church on Epiphany Sunday receives a star gift and is asked to reflect on that word for the coming year. The people are invited to ponder what significance this word might have in their lives, and how God might be speaking to them through that simple message … The wise men who traveled great distances to offer their gifts to the newborn Christ-child were responding to the gift first given to them. They received God’s gift, then offered their gifts to God. As we commemorate the arrival of the wise men and remember their offerings, we delight in this paper reminder that symbolizes God’s generosity in our lives … Epiphany is the celebration of God’s presence breaking through to shine as a light in the darkness. Each year our congregation rejoices in the reminder of our generous, giving God—one star gift at a time.” (https://revgalblogpals.org/star-words/)

We have so many expectations for a new year. We can put so much pressure on ourselves, making resolutions and promises to ourselves about how much “fixing” we’re going to do in our lives. But this year, maybe you can just commit to opening your lives, your hearts to an Epiphany - a revealing of the light, a revealing of Christ at work in our lives. You can’t fail at that, because the light of Christ is unwavering. If you search for it, you’ll find it. And when you see the light, when you hear the call, let’s commit to following the star, wherever it leads. Let’s be brave, and go on whatever journey God call us to take. Sometimes the light will lead us outside of our comfort zones. Sometimes, not everyone around us will support our answering the call. But you can’t get lost if you just stick with the light, which is constant. Will you journey with Jesus this year, and beyond? It might require as much planning and attention and as great a commitment of resources as planning my family’s perfect Disney vacation! But when we follow the star, when we answer the call, we, like the wise men, will find that our lives are overwhelmed with joy. Amen.  

A Sung Communion for World Communion Sunday: For the Beauty of the Earth

For the Beauty of the Earth: A Sung Communion Liturgy for World Communion Sunday

Tune: DIX, 77.77.77 (“For the Beauty of the Earth,” UMH 92)

Gather, friends, from far and near

Gather, friends - you are welcome

Come to the table, join the meal

God invites us, every one.

Sing together, voices raise to our God this song of praise.

Lift your hearts up to the Lord!

God, we lift our hearts to you.

Give to God your thanks and praise.

It is right to give our thanks.

Sing together, voices raise to our God this song of praise.

God, you made us out of love,

Each one different, yet like you

We’re one people, all the earth

Many nations, many-hued

Sing together, everyone! Tell the world what God has done!

Though we are one, we’ve built up walls,

Nurtured fears and pain and strife,

In our anger, turned away

From the gift of God-breathed life.

Holy God, we turn to you. We repent and start anew.

So you sent your holy child,

Come to share your reign on earth

Breaking all our barriers down

Teaching us our sacred worth

Jesus Christ, God’s gift of grace! At the meal we take our place.

Jesus shared a meal with friends

Took and blessed and shared the bread

“This, my life, I give to you

Remember when you eat again”

We remember, we give thanks, for the meal of love and grace.

Jesus took a cup of wine

Shared with friends fruit of the vine

“In this cup forgiveness find,

Gift of mercy, gift divine.

We remember, we give thanks, for the meal of love and grace.

Pour on us your Holy Breath.

Pour your Spirit on these gifts.

Make them into Christ for us.

Make us Christ for the whole world.

God of all, to you we raise this our song of grateful praise.

Text: Beth Quick, 2018.

A Sung Communion Liturgy for World Communion Sunday: For the Beauty of the Earth by Rev. Dr. Beth Quick is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

A Sung Communion for the Season after Pentecost/Ordinary Time: Blessed Assurance

A Sung Communion for the Season after Pentecost/Ordinary Time:

Blessed Assurance TUNE: ASSURANCE (UMH #369)

Lift up your hearts, friends, time to give thanks!

Time now to gather, our voices to raise!

Called to the table, hearts turned to God,  

Come to meet Christ here, come now to praise.

Refrain: This is God’s table; come find your place.

Table of blessing, table of grace.

This is God’s table, this is God’s gift.

We are invited; come to the feast!

In God’s own image, we come to life.

God offers to us abundance and grace.

But we sought rather for power, success,

Losing our way and losing our place.

*Prophets and poets, judges and kings,

God working through them, a message to bring.

We did not listen, we would not hear.

We closed our hearts to all God would share.

Refrain: This is God’s table; come find your place.

Table of blessing, table of grace.

This is God’s table, this is God’s gift.

We are invited; come to the feast!

So God sent Christ in the fullness of time

God-come-among-us, human, divine

Christ lived among us, he shared the good news:

God’s kin-dom for all, God’s kin-dom for you.

Refrain: This is our story, this is our song,

praising our Savior all the day long;

this is our story, this is our song,

praising our Savior all the day long.

During the supper, Jesus took bread

Thanking and sharing, disciples he fed.

“This is my body, given for you.

Eat and remember when this you do."

After the supper, Christ shared the cup

‘This is my life - it’s poured out for you.

Sign of forgiveness, sign of God’s love,

Given to all: God’s promise made new.”    

Refrain: This is God’s table; come find your place.

Table of blessing, table of grace.

This is God’s table, this is God’s gift.

We are invited; come to the feast!

Blessed assurance! Jesus is mine!

O, what a foretaste of glory divine!

We come to the table, gift from above,

filled with God’s goodness, lost in God’s love.

Refrain: This is our story, this is our song,

praising our Savior all the day long;

this is our story, this is our song,

praising our Savior all the day long.

*Rather than a strict verse/refrain alternation, this liturgy occasionally uses a repeated verse before returning to the refrain. All refrains are marked. 

Text: Beth Quick, 2018 Incorporating phrases and refrain from “Blessed Assurance” by Fanny J. Crosby.

A Sung Communion Liturgy for the Season after Pentecost/Ordinary Time: Blessed Assurance by Rev. Dr. Beth Quick is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.