Historian, Douglas Brinkley, writes: “Usually, one day in a century rises above the others as an accepted turning point or historic milestone. It becomes the climactic day, or 'the day,' of that century.” Quite honestly, I beg to differ with him as I think about all we have experienced in the past twenty years. 9/11 was a huge turning point for our country. This pandemic has been a history making event on multiple levels. January 6th of this year, another day that will be remembered in infamy, marks what is sure to be another turning point in our country. And, I have a feeling there will be more turning points on the horizon before this century comes to an end, points in time that will bring about major change and cause us to move in different directions. Turning points cause global change, change within an entire culture or, if the turning point is in one’s own life, it can cause us as individuals to change the direction we are going. I know this because I have experienced personal turning points in life and the fact that I am here today is the result of some of those turning points. In today’s readings, we find people facing life-changing turning points. In our reading from Genesis, God establishes a covenant with Abram and tells him he will be the father of many nations, even though Abram is already ninety-nine years old and does not yet have children. Now, think about it. What a surprise! As my friend says, “Old Abe was more ready for the nursing home than the maternity ward.” Yet, God makes it clear to Abram and Sarai that they will become parents. This is truly a turning point, and God marks this event by giving them new names. God says your names shall now be Abraham and Sarah; for I have made you the ancestors of a multitude of nations. This truly was a life-changing experience for them, and a turning point for the world because God’s faithful, everlasting covenant with Abraham’s descendents is established. Today, we also come to a turning point in the gospel of Mark. In fact, it is the central turning point in Mark’s gospel. Just before today’s reading, Jesus has asked the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” In response, impetuous Peter gets all excited and professes that Jesus is indeed the long-promised Messiah. And now, Jesus immediately begins to tell his disciples what being the Messiah is all about, what his ministry will look like. He says, “It is necessary that the Son of Man proceed to an ordeal of suffering, be tried and found guilty by the elders, high priests, and religious scholars, be killed, and after three days rise up alive.” Well, Jesus’ words to the disciples are devastating. His words shatter and obliterate the disciples’ preconceived notions of everything they expected a coming Messiah would do. So, as reactive Peter hears this, he immediately backs away and rebukes Jesus. Jesus’ words simply destroy the glamor of following this long-expected Messiah. This is certainly not the kind of life Peter wants to undertake. While Jesus seems to be the Messiah, the Jewish people had never expected a leader who must suffer and die. That was simply ludicrous and irrational. Who in their right mind chooses to “proceed to an ordeal of suffering” as Jesus says he is doing? And, who in their right mind wants to even follow a leader who is on his way to die? This comes as a complete surprise. Nothing they have experienced has prepared them for Jesus to say he will suffer and die. And, what is even more appalling is that Jesus is telling them if they want to be his disciples, they must deny themselves and take up their crosses and follow him! No, this is NOT what they had hoped for. Now, lest we judge Peter too quickly, we need to take a serious look at ourselves. Jesus’ words are just as hard for us to hear. You see, most of us choose religion and come to believe important things deeply because we feel they are good for us. We like a religion that makes us feel good. We like a faith that fits our comfortable, recreational lifestyles. We like a faith that makes us feel happy, loved, at peace, and free from the challenges of life around us. In other words, we want a religion that will make us healthy, wealthy and wise. We want to follow a strong God who “heals our illnesses, provides ample prosperity, guarantees security, and urges our sports teams on to victory.” (David Lose) Suffering does not fit into that plan. Quite honestly, if any one of us is offered a life of suffering versus a life free from suffering, you can be your bottom dollar, we will choose the one that is pain free! Yet, this is where we must get very honest about the Christian life. Christianity is not about living an easier life, living a life free from pain, or believing in a God we can turn to as our personal Santa Claus to help solve life’s problems and give us all we want. Quite frankly, following Jesus is often going to make our lives more complicated and challenging. Jesus’ words to his disciples are hard and his way extreme. The disciples had thought the Messiah would offer security, protection, and make Israel great again! But, now Peter and the other disciples are learning that faith in Jesus is not about the elimination of risks, the preservation of life, or the ability to control. Instead, Jesus asks Peter and each one of us to risk it all, abandon our lives, and relinquish control to God. That is what Jesus is doing and he expects nothing less of those who would follow him. The way of Christ is the way of self-denial, and it is a way that reminds us our life is not our own. Our very lives belong to God. The way of Christ reminds us that we are not in control, God is. Our life is not about us. It is about God. There is great freedom in knowing and living this truth, freedom to be fully alive. Through living Christ’s way of self-denial, our falling down becomes rising up, losing becomes a way of saving, and death leads to resurrection. As long as we believe our life is about us we will continue to exercise power over others, try to save ourselves, control our circumstances, and maybe even rebuke Jesus. Jesus rarely exercised power over others or tried to control circumstances. He simply made different choices. And, for followers of Jesus, discipleship is about the choices we make. Jesus chose to give in a world that takes, to love in a world that hates, to heal in a world that injures, to give life in a world that kills. He offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent. He trusted God’s abundance when others said there was not enough. With each choice he denied himself and showed God was present. At some point, these kinds of choices will catch the attention of, and quite likely offend, those who live and profit by power, control, and looking out for number one. People who are offended will not deny themselves. They will react. Jesus said they would. He knew that he would be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes. It happens in every age for those who choose the path of self-denial. When it happened for Jesus, he made one last choice. He chose the cross and resurrection over survival. Every day of our lives we face choices, and some of those choices are real turning points. In today’s reading, Jesus says to each of us, “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat, I am. Don’t run from suffering, embrace it. If any of you want to follow me, you must deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?” (The Message) The point at which Jesus says this to his disciples is the turning point in Mark’s telling of the Jesus story, and it is the turning point for each of us in our life of faith. The words Jesus speaks to us today present THE big defining choice for every Christian. “If any of you want to follow me, you must deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me....”

Your Faith Journey - Finding God Through Words, Song and Praise

Sermon - Mark 8:31-38

As happens every year on this first Sunday in Lent, we begin our forty-day Lenten journey and we encounter Jesus experiencing forty days in the desert. In Mark’s telling of the story, we find Jesus is driven or pushed into the wilderness. The gospel writer tells us Jesus has just been baptized by John, an experience in which he saw the sky violently split open and God’s Spirit descend upon him in the form of a gentle dove. He has just heard God’s voice say to him, “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love. You are the pride of my life.” Then, immediately following this experience, the same Spirit that descended upon him as a gentle dove, turns into a dive bomber or mac truck and pushes Jesus out into the wild. We are not given any hint or clue that Jesus chose to do this of his own volition. The writer of Mark’s gospel makes it clear that Jesus was forcefully driven into the wilderness by the Spirit, pushed there by something outside of himself. Now, the wilderness is not a safe place. It is a treacherous, wild place with tricky, barren terrain. It is a place where one experiences the burning rays of the beating sun, the hungry wolves and wild beasts, and something many of us do not like to face – solitude. We can probably surmise that, like most of us, when Jesus faced solitude, he faced his own inner voices. Mark tells us that, having been driven into the wilderness, Jesus was tempted or tested by Satan. Jesus did not choose to go into the wilderness, and he did not choose to be tempted. Beyond this, Mark simply does not give us many details about Jesus’ forty-day experience. Unlike the other gospels, we are not given any scripted arguments between Jesus and Satan and no details about hunger for food or power. All we are told is that Jesus was in the wilderness for forty days, was tempted by Satan, was with the wild beasts and the angels waited on him. Yes, the angels took care of him. God’s presence was there for him and with him throughout that forty-day experience. And, as we begin our forty-day Lenten journey, we remember Jesus’ experience and we are given the promise that God is with us as we face our own challenges in the wilderness experiences of our lives. The wilderness or the desert is not only a physical, geographical place. It is also a spiritual place where we find multiple spots to engage in self-examination, struggle, and repentance. It is a place where we often discover we must face ourselves. And, the wilderness is not a place where we eagerly volunteer to go. Quite frankly, we do not choose to experience times of temptation, struggle, sorrow, or pain, let alone deep self-examination. We do not go out actively seeking challenging situations or hardships. Now, I do not for one minute believe that God causes us to experience hardship or suffering in life. I do not believe that God causes us any kind of misery to teach us a lesson or punish us in any way. That is not the kind of loving God Jesus proclaims. Yet, we do face times of struggle, trial, and misery. In fact, for many of us, this past year of living through a pandemic has been such an experience. However, just as God was present to Jesus during those trying forty days, God is present to us in all of our challenges in life. God is present with us and to us in those times when a marriage comes to an end, those times when we find our children struggling, those times when a loved one dies, those times when a loved one struggles with addiction, those times when we lose a job, those times of hardship when we cannot sense a glimmer of hope, those times when we as a nation and as a global community live through a ravaging pandemic that brings enormous death and sorrow, those times when our experience seems void of the presence of God. God is there, present to us in all the struggles and temptations we face, in all of the chaos and pain. And, God is at work in the depth of those experiences, transforming them, bringing order out of chaos and bringing forth newness and life. As we intentionally take time for reflection and repentance during this Lenten season, we begin in the wilderness. Lent can be a time to take stock in our lives, and to really begin to come clean about those things that tempt us. The wilderness is a place where we can let go of all pretense and allow ourselves to be honest and vulnerable. This wilderness experience can allow us to take a real look at the way we try to hide our pain, take a look at the perfectionism that plagues us, the competitive nature that drives us, the denial that is epidemic within us and around us, and take a look at the way our brokenness shapes our entire being and way of life. This wilderness can be a place where we find the freedom to confess the messiness of our lives. And, the truth of the matter is, the wilderness experience is not just a Lenten experience. Whether we like it or not, the wilderness is the place where we live out our lives. When I was young, a time that increasingly seems to have been long, long ago in some far away place, I used to love watching MASH. Those of you who watched that show might remember one episode where Father Mulcahy, the unit’s priest, tried to talk with a wounded soldier who had been severely traumatized by what he witnessed on the front lines of war. When this soldier finds out Father Mulcahy had not once even been close to where the fighting was taking place, the soldier decides they just cannot talk. You see, he had no interest in hearing the pious platitudes of a person who had not been on the front lines, so he felt he could not begin to relate to the priest. Later in the episode, after Father Mulcahy does come under enemy fire and is forced to perform an emergency medical procedure on a different soldier, even as shells are exploding all around him, the first soldier then welcomes Father Mulcahy after all. Now they have a common frame of reference, and now they can talk. And, it is then that Father Mulcahy gets it and understands why the soldier had not been able to relate to him. In the person of Jesus, God has entered the front lines of our human existence. In the person of Jesus, God has already been in the wilderness. In the person of Jesus, God has entered into the wilderness of our lives and engaged the sharp, jagged edges of this broken, sorrow filled world. God does walk with us through all our experiences in the wild. Jesus walks with each one of us through the front lines of our lives. As he walks with us in the wilderness, we discover we can let go of the sinful, false self, be honest and vulnerable, and entrust our messy, broken, mixed up lives to God. And, guess what? It is then that we finally discover our true selves. Then, we really discover what the grace of God is like. Then, we begin to discover more deeply what it means to be named as God’s beloved child, to be made God’s very own. Then, we begin to discover more deeply that our entire life is enveloped and bathed in God’s grace. And, then we begin to discover how immeasurably we are loved by the God of all creation.

Sermon - Mark 1.9-15

If you missed Ash Wednesday service this year, listen in to re-connect and re-center. 

Ash Wednesday 2021

This past week, I have been very aware of the way pandemic fatigue is increasingly becoming an ordinary aspect of daily life.  The endless number of Zoom meetings, the isolation, the ordering of groceries online, the lack of being able to see people’s faces in person, our collective deep brokenness as people, and the sadness and yearning I feel as I want to be with our kids and grandkids, all are increasingly becoming a darkened scar on our lives. In some ways, the light of hope just seems dimmed, and we cannot clearly see what is real. As we live in this pandemic bubble of constraints, the daily challenges sometimes are like a dark veil that covers up what is truly important and what is truly real.  Laden by what has become an ordinariness of pandemic routine, we often do not see the deeper truth and reality of God’s presence with us, the immeasurable love in which God holds us, the Love that dances at the very heart of existence.  Quite frankly, most people seem to think God is out there somewhere.  Maybe way up there, but far removed from our everyday experience.  And, far too often, religion teaches that we should seek out the presence of God.  However, the reality is that we cannot seek out God’s presence, we cannot earn God’s presence to us, we cannot prove ourselves worthy of God’s presence, nor can we do anything to prohibit God’s presence to us.  The deepest truth given to us in today’s gospel reading is that we are totally and completely enveloped in the presence of God and God’s immeasurable love.  That is what is truly real.  Yet, those moments of transparency that enable us to see more clearly seem few and infrequent. New Testament scholar, N.T. Wright, describes those moments as points in time when “the veil of ordinariness that normally prevents us from seeing the ‘inside’ of a situation is drawn back, and a fuller reality is disclosed.”  As we look at today’s gospel reading, Peter, James, and John experience such a moment when that veil is drawn back.  When looking at this gospel passage, we should understand this is a story.  We should let go of our need for facts and allow a more profound truth to speak as the veil is drawn back so we can see a deeper truth, a fuller reality. In this gospel reading, Jesus is transfigured and three of Jesus’ disciples get a glimpse of how things really are, what is truly real. Listen to the beautiful poetic narrative of this experience as described in a sonnet by English writer, poet, and priest, Malcolm Guite: For that one moment, ‘in and out of time,’ On that one mountain where all moments meet, The daily veil that covers the sublime In darkling glass fell dazzled at his feet. There were no angels full of eyes and wings Just living glory full of truth and grace. The Love that dances at the heart of things Shone out upon us from a human face And to that light the light in us leaped up, We felt it quicken somewhere deep within, A sudden blaze of long-extinguished hope Trembled and tingled through the tender skin. Nor can this blackened sky, this darkened scar                          Eclipse that glimpse of how things really are.          In that experience on the mountain, the disciples saw Jesus in a moment of transparency that transformed everything.  Yes, it was a moment when the Love that dances at the very heart of things shone out upon them from a human face. In that moment of transfiguration what the disciples glimpsed was their rabbi, friend and teacher, Jesus, so in alignment with the love of the one who created us ALL in love and then called us to walk in love with each other, that he was transformed – transfigured – in front of their awestruck eyes. And, they heard a voice speak the same words that had been spoken at the Jordan River when Jesus was baptized by John: “This is my son, the Beloved. Listen to him.” In that moment in time, the disciples were enveloped by the immeasurable love of God. They were shown God’s love as seen in the very face of Jesus. And, they were told to listen to Love.           On this fourteenth day of February, a day culture sets aside to celebrate human love, it is also important to think about the nature of divine love, the belovedness seen in the person of Jesus.  It is important to think about Jesus as God’s beloved, about the fact that God calls each one of us beloved, and the reality that we are called to live and walk in that love.  I think far too often, we simply fail to recognize that God calls us beloved.  And, the consequence of this is lack of recognition is that we then fail to recognize that every other person is also beloved of God!  Also, far too often, we are tempted to take the experience of God’s transforming love and try to contain it, hold on to it and keep it, and box it up in dogma, creed, doctrine, rubric, order, construct, book…..or even a booth, just like clueless Peter. Yes, clueless Peter.  He is so like us and he fell right into the same temptation we fall into as he says, “Let us build some booths.” And, what happens when Peter says that?  The voice of God interrupts, essentially saying, “This is not about building booths, Peter.  This is about my Beloved.  Listen to him.” Friends, like Peter, we too must listen as we live our lives.  Listen to Jesus.  Listen to Jesus’ words, the life he shared and the way he lived, his ministry, the way he healed people, liberated people, and set them free.  Listen to the part about liberation to the oppressed.  Good news to the poor. Sight to the blind. Listen to the part about love your neighbor as yourself.  Listen, and live that love! Well, down the mountain they went to proclaim the Good News of God’s astounding love to a world desperately in need of love, a world so desperately in need that it could not handle the message. The world could not handle such an immeasurable, divine love, so it nailed that Love to a cross.  But, here is the thing about divine Love: not even death can hold it down, keep it contained or buried.  Love was resurrected and that love continually brings forth life.  That love gives us life, heals us, sets us free and resurrects us.  And, we are called to live this love.  We, too, are called to go out into a world that is veiled in the ordinariness of life, a world yearning for a glimpse of how things really are.  We are called to go out into the world to pull back the veil of darkness, of violence, oppression, division, disease, of separation that keeps all of us from living in love, and the veil that keeps the human race from being the human family God intended it to be.  We are called to live in such a way that the veil of darkness is drawn back, and the more sublime, deeper truth of life can be revealed. Friends, as we gather each week, we gather so that we, too, might be changed by our glimpse of how things really are.  We gather so that we might be transfigured into radical bearers of the light of God’s inclusive love.  We gather so that we can then go out into a world that desperately needs that light and that love. We gather so that we can remember how much we are loved and then be sent down off the mountain in response to God’s love, not to build booths or write creeds or dictate dogmas, but to do the work of justice. To love mercy. And to walk humbly with the God who created us in love and then called us to love one another, until: this world – this fragile earth, our island home – is transformed by the transparency of the Love that dances at the heart of all things. and loving your neighbor as yourself means not deporting your neighbor. and black mothers don’t have to put their young black sons into bed every night praying they’ll be safe from the lethal racism that presently infects our country. and our unhealthy obsession with guns dissipates so that gun violence no longer takes thousands of American lives each year. and we all recognize that climate science is not a “myth” but our only hope of reversing the damage we have done to our planet. and transgender and LGBTQIA+ youth no longer consider suicide because they finally understand they are precious to God and loved by God as they are. and people in our neighborhood, our country and the world no longer go hungry or homeless. and people understand that true freedom is found in loving God and loving your neighbor as yourself, which means doing things like wearing a mask and undertaking everything you can do so that your neighbor does not become ill and die in this pandemic. Friends, this week we will walk through the doorway into Lent and journey to the cross, that place of transforming Love.  In the cross we discover God’s transformational love unveiled for the life of the world.  Be open to become changed, be open to be transformed, be open to be made new, and be open to truly live the love of God!

Sermon - 2/14/21

Last Tuesday evening, I watched the service for Officer Brian Sicknick who was killed in the attack on our capitol on January 6th. It made me again do some critical thinking about the personal and national crises we as a people are experiencing in our present culture.  We are facing this horrific pandemic, enormous pain and grief, loneliness, political unrest, racism, threats due to growing militias and white supremacist movements, and far too many people getting drawn into rabbit holes of conspiracy theories and lies. As I think about these challenges and our profound brokenness as people, my heart truly breaks. I mourn our deep brokenness. During dark times of challenge, it often seems that we as a people do not always remember God’s presence in our lives.  And, quite frankly, we may ask, “Where is God; has God abandoned us?  Who are we as a people?” Therefore, today’s scripture readings are again so life-giving. The words we hear in today’s reading from Isaiah were written after the Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple. After one of the most horrific moments in Jewish history, the people are living in exile. They have experienced personal and national crises and their memory of God’s presence to them has diminished. They do not remember God’s promises to them. Their biggest questions are, “Has God abandoned us? Are the Babylonian gods greater than our God? And who are we now as a people?” In today’s reading, Isaiah repeats the rhetorical questions, “Have you not known? Have you not heard?”  And, the answer he ultimately gives is that God has always been with the people, giving strength to the powerless and power to faint. During difficult times, Isaiah inspires the people to trust in something bigger than their present circumstances. God is present with them in their pain, and they can be present to and with one another. Often, in times of crisis when we are suffering, we too forget the awesome power of God. Like the people who were in exile, this virus has tested our memory of God’s presence to us. Because of the hardships and suffering many have faced, we collectively as a people may have forgotten what God has done for us. Isaiah’s questions can and should still be asked of us today, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? God is with us!”  When crisis causes us to have short memories, Isaiah’s words remind us that God has been here since before the beginning of the world and God is the one who has been and continues to be fully in control.  In a time when many feel and face despair and hopelessness, Isaiah’s words speak directly to our fears saying, “God is the creator of heaven and earth, large and vast beyond our imagining and God does not grow faint or weary. If you feel faint and powerless, God will give to you power and strength. And, as you wait for the Lord, you are like a molting eagle. God will give you strength and new wings that will lift you up. God will raise you up to life.”  Isaiah assures us of God’s tender and empowering care. As we look at our gospel reading, Jesus enters a place where he finds hopelessness and powerlessness. If you remember last week’s gospel, Jesus had just been teaching in the synagogue.  While there, he was rudely interrupted by a man possessed with an “unclean spirit.” Jesus had then ordered the unclean spirit to leave this man and the man was healed.  It was Jesus’ first miracle in the gospel of Mark.  And, it was an action that was all about healing and hope, empowering and enabling that man to again be restored to life and full participation within the life of community.  This morning, we find the gospel writer continuing this narrative by connecting that story to what we have as today’s gospel reading.  Jesus leaves the synagogue and he “immediately” goes to Simon’s house where he finds Simon’s mother-in-law sick with a fever.  It is still the same day, the same Sabbath, only a matter of hours later, and we find Jesus again giving life by healing Simon’s mother-in-law.  He walks over, touches her, then he takes her by the hand and lifts her up, or “raises her up.”  The Greek word Mark uses for “lifted up” or “raised up” is the same word Mark uses to tell of Jesus being lifted up on a cross.  And, it is the same word used in the gospel narrative describing Easter morning when we hear the words “He is not here, he is risen!”  This is not coincidence.  Simon Peter’s mother-in-law is raised up from her illness.  And, what does she begin to do?  She gets up from her bed and begins to feed people.  She begins to serve, to minister to others.  Healed from her illness, she begins to live into a sense of purpose, a sense of vocation.  This woman who has been touched and healed by Jesus becomes the first active witness to what a healed and resurrected life in Jesus looks like. Healing, deliverance from pain and illness, and setting people free are the hallmarks of that great prophetic dream called the Reign of God. Isaiah and the prophets articulated the dream of God and it is expressed in one way or another as it is threaded throughout the entirety of scripture. Yet, the people had to always be reminded of that dream and we need to be reminded of God’s dream.  The dream of God is always describing a reality where no one goes hungry, the ill and grieving are healed, and those in various kinds of prisons are set free to live abundant life, life that truly matters.  Over and over, we hear that Jesus “went about healing many who were sick or possessed by demons.”  Healing and setting people free were foundational to Jesus’ ministry.  And, healing and setting people free are foundational to the ministry we share as members of the body of Christ. This image of healing and setting people free is something we share because, in baptism, we too have been raised to new life.  We too have been set free.  We too have been raised to live life that truly matters and live into the ministry of serving others. We live in a world that is desperate for healing. The need in this world is so great.  And, friends, God’s healing, life giving presence is closer to us than the air we breathe.  As we live together, participating in the community of faith, we live into God’s healing, gracious love.  Gerald May was a medical doctor who practiced psychotherapy in Washington, D.C.  He wrote of the importance of community in the healing process.  He writes: God’s grace through community involves something far greater than other people’s support and perspective.  The power of grace is nowhere as brilliant nor as mystical as in communities of faith.  Its power includes not just love that comes from people and through people but love that pours forth among people, as if through the very spaces between one person and next.  Just to be in such an atmosphere is to be bathed in healing power. (Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace, 173.)               Friends, the good news to us in the depth of our present circumstances is this: Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? God is with us! In the person of Jesus, God comes to us in the depth of our circumstances, renews our strength, brings healing. God raises us up to serve others and to serve the greater community as we continue to live into the dream of God for this world, as we carry God’s healing presence in this world. And, we are doing just that! As our Caring Committee continues their outstanding work connecting to members and others in the community, we carry the good news message that God IS present to us and continues to be present to us and all others.  As we begin some new food pantry projects, we carry God’s message of healing love to others by connecting to people in the depth of their need.  And, as we continue the reconciling work of caring for our neighbor and living out God’s love in this community, God will continue to raise us up to a new life of hope, just as Jesus did to Simon’s mother-in-law.  God is raising us up, lifting us up so we can live lives of service to others and bear God’s creative and life-giving, redeeming love in this world. And that love, my friends, is what truly will transform the deep brokenness and challenges of this present time.

Sermon - Mark 1:29-39

First, I want to just say a quick “hi” to all of you out there. While I certainly wish that we could be worshipping in person, I am thankful for technology and the people who operate it (thanks Ken!) so that we can still gather virtually each Sunday. I miss seeing you every week during worship, choir rehearsals, or other events. Just a note that to be 100% safe, I recorded my parts of the service at home ahead of Sunday, so while you are watching this on Sunday morning, I’m watching it right with you! Now, taking a quick look at our old testament reading from today, it focuses on prophets and God providing prophets for the people as they get ready to go into the promised land. God wants to make sure that God’s people are given guidance as they go into land that has many rituals around false gods. Because of this, there needs to be a true voice to guide them as they build their community around God’s plan. We learn what makes a good prophet, which is someone who speaks the truth about God and shares God’s message. So, while we don’t officially declare prophets in these modern times, we can sort of view anyone who declares the truth about God and the love for all people as a type of modern prophet. Moving to the new testament reading, at a quick glance this may seem like a message about being careful about what we eat or do not eat or how we behave, but the message is bigger than that. We have to remember that this was written to the church in Corinth to give them guidance for their community. What I take away from this passage  isn’t about strict laws about our behaviors or actions. This is about being aware of our actions and how they impact our community. As children of God, freed by Christ, we are commanded to build up our community to ensure that everyone can know and experience God’s love for all. So what we should and should not do is not dictated by a certain list somewhere, but by the outcomes. We need to look at our actions not as the actions themselves but by how they impact our community. Even if an action is fine for ourselves or those close around us, we need to view it as how others perceive it and how it impacts the larger community, to ensure that the actions share the message of God’s love and helps bring people closer to the wholeness that God and I yearn for in recognizing the kin-dom of God. In today’s Gospel reading we find Jesus entering the synagogue and teaching. It was not unusual for people other than the leaders of the synagogue to teach during gatherings, it was quite common practice. From a commentary by Richard Donovan “There is only one temple, but synagogues are widely scattered and devoted to the study of scripture. Sabbath worship includes prayer as well as the public reading and exposition of the scriptures. The role of the president of the synagogue is more administrative than pastoral, so he invites qualified laymen to speak. Synagogue rulers would welcome a fresh, promising voice, which explains how Jesus could teach in the synagogue.” ( https://sermonwriter.com/biblical-commentary/mark-121-28/ ) The important part here is that Mark notes that Jesus taught with Authority. Normally only the scribes had authority to interpret scripture. Again, from Richard Donovan, “Scribes are scholars who interpret and teach Torah and render binding judgments regarding its application. They tend to be conservative, rendering judgments based on precedent—deriving authority from their knowledge of earlier experts on the law. By Jesus’ day, they are powerful and enjoy considerable deference. The best seats in the synagogue are reserved for them, and people rise to their feet when they enter a room. People call them “rabbi,” which means “great one”. They constitute a substantial portion of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish ruling body. They quickly become Jesus’ opponents, and will play a major role in his crucifixion—in part because they consider Jesus to be sacrilegious, but also because Jesus poses a threat to their comfortable lives.” This gospel reading, along with last week’s, are the start of Jesus’s public ministry, and boy does he start off with a bang. Not in a safe cautious manner, but already challenging the status quo of the time. Not only by teaching with authority and shocking people, but also by rebuking evil in a person, and achieving results. The actions he did wasn’t the shocking part, it was that he wasn’t part of the “in” crowd, not “authorized” to do this, and didn’t do it the “right way”. As we follow the ministry of Jesus, we learn that this is exactly what his ministry is all about, doing what is right, breaking down barriers that keep people from God’s love and the kin-dom of wholeness, and making sure everyone, especially the “others” that normally didn’t fit in, are welcomed to experience the wonder of God’s unconditional love. Which brings us to today, Reconciling in Christ (RIC) Sunday. A yearly service where we focus on and renew our commitment to being an RIC Congregation. This year the theme is “Coming Together, Building Community”.  When we became an RIC congregation, the requirement to be officially listed as an RIC congregation was to have a public welcome statement that specifically states that we welcome all sexual orientations and gender identities. Recently, when I was working with another congregation on their journey to becoming RIC, I learned that ReconcilingWorks, the organization that governs the RIC program, has updated the requirements for being RIC. At first, I was a bit concerned, but after I read the updated list, I strongly support it because it is a positive change, and also fits in well with the spirit of RIC and fits well with what our congregation does. The updated list of RIC criteria is: Your community explicitly states a welcome to people of “all sexual orientations, gender identities, and gender expressions” or “LGBTQIA+” and names its commitment to racial equity or antiracism in its welcome statement. Open to calling an LGBTQIA+ and Black, Brown, Indigenous, Person of Color (BIPOC) Rostered Leader. Will allow community space/sanctuary to be used for LGBTQIA+ weddings and blessings. Will make a meaningful contribution annually to support the national RIC program. While I feel we do well at most of these, we always have room to grow, so I encourage you to think about these commitments as we start another year of programming in our congregation. When we think back on today’s readings, we find that throughout the bible, God’s plan for all of us has always been about coming together and building community. Not just any community, but a community where all are welcome, kept safe, and are provided ways to experience God’s love and desire for wholeness for everyone. From the old testament when prophets were provided to build and grow a community in a new land, to the new testament where guidance was given as to how to ensure that the community is coming together to build itself up. Then the ultimate example of what it means to come together to build community from Jesus’s bold actions and message, that God isn’t meant to be separated from people and governed by old rules and strict interpretations of them, but God is meant to have close connections with people in their community and use that connection to build up the community as one. As we celebrate RIC Sunday this year, I think back to RIC Sunday last year and how I had a very packed day of plans for that Sunday, starting off with church, then our annual meeting with lunch, attending a play, then traveling to Toronto for a short vacation. This RIC Sunday is vastly different, as has been the last year for all of us. While this has certainly been hard for everyone, in many different ways, I also see the positive that has come out of it. This congregation, you, all of you, has stepped up to come together and build community. People adapted and adjusted as needed to ensure the work of our congregation continued. Services were adjusted and readjusted, adjusted again, and changed once more as health guidance, technology, and weather required. We started new programs like treats for health care workers and also demonstrating for racial justice - not just when it was the hot issue of the week, but for months, since just because it fell off the headlines, didn’t mean the issue went away. We had a wonderful God’s Work. Our Hands. day where we engaged and provided services to our community. We ensured that our annual food drives continued. We increased our efforts to make cards for seniors, now when they need them the most. Our food pantry has helped who knows how many people in need, it continues to gain more attention as people become aware of it and the need in our community increases. We continue to  provide and care for the young people living in our parish house, as we continue to work for justice for them. In this past year, we have certainly come together to build community. And through this, we are reminded that the church is certainly not a  building, but a community. While our building has been mostly shut down for almost a year, the church, our community, has certainly not been closed as we’ve continued to come together (virtually or otherwise) to build community. And I’ve said it before, and I’ll continue to say it, because it is the truth, Pastor Ellen is a modern day prophet. Her deep care and concern for people, justice, and community is the spark that leads our congregational community to keep working hard to come together to continue to build up God’s kin-dom in our community. Her passion and commitment drives us all to keep coming together to do the work that is desperately needed in our community and the world. So, pastor, hopefully, my virtually helping lead today’s worship service gives you a small, and much deserved, break. I can just picture you sitting back and relaxing a little bit as you watch the parts of the service I recorded to help out today. While it would be great to say “well we’ve done a great job at coming together and building our community, we can step back for awhile”, that isn’t the case. Until the entire world is made whole and one with God, and all know the freeing, unending and unconditional love of God, our mission continues. We will continue to come together in whatever ways we can and whatever ways are needed to continue building up our community. Our community of people at Faith, our community of people in Okemos, Haslett, Williamston, and surrounding areas, our community of Black, Brown, Indigenous, and other People of Color, our community of people from different faith backgrounds, our community of the wide range of sexual orientations and gender identities and expressions, our community that is best described as everyone, all God’s people and all of God’s creation. Make no mistake, this is hard work, but work that we are called to do, work that we can do and should be excited to do, because of the Good News that we are freed from our sins, freed from having to worry about always being “right” and doing the “right” thing to maintain connection and earn God’s love. We are freed because of Jesus Christ, who died for our sins, to bridge the gap between us and God, so we are closely and unbreakably connected with God’s love for us. We are freed to come together and build community. Let us challenge ourselves as individuals and as a congregation to work to continue our current plans and find new ways to build up our community to ensure the message of God’s love reaches all.

Sermon - Mark 1 21-28 - RIC Sunday

When my kids were in elementary school, each of them had to work on a Tall Tale project.  Tall Tales are narratives with fantastic, unbelievable, impossible elements, that tell a story as if the elements were true and factual.  Other tall tales have elements of truth but extreme exaggerations of actual events.  I remember my kids studied tales like Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill, and Johnny Appleseed. Then, they had to write their own tall tale which they made into a book.  It really was a lot of fun.  Today, we get a tall tale from the Old Testament.  Quite honestly, when people read the book of Jonah, we find out what kind of readers they are – whether they are literalists or lovers of a story that is not factually true but communicates a much deeper truth.  And, the literalists lose out on this one.  The book of Jonah is a wildly funny, improbable, subversive story and, because we get only the middle part of this tale in today’s reading, I really need share with you the whole story.  The first thing you need to know is that many theologians believe the story of Jonah is midrash, a practice in which Jewish rabbis would take a verse from scripture and expound upon it, tell a story to explain it, and give commentary regarding it.  Midrash commentaries were often humorous, and the story of Jonah has all these markings. The story of Jonah is likely midrash based on a verse from Joel, which Jonah later quotes in complaint. To set the context for this story, you should also know that Jonah’s people were part of ancient Israel…and Israel had this enemy called Assyria, the imperial force of the day. Assyria’s capitol and seat of power was Nineveh. The Assyrians were ruthless. They had ravaged and pillaged much of Israel, they had taken their wealth, occupied their land, and demanded the people of Israel pay them tribute. The Assyrians were despised enemies. Anyway, the word of the Lord comes to this very reluctant prophet called Jonah and God says, “Go at once, head east to that great city of Nineveh and proclaim the message I tell you!”  So, what does Jonah do?  Not wanting to go to that wicked city, he goes west to Tarshish, the city that was, at that time, thought to be as far west as one could possibly go.  Jonah takes a boat in the exact opposite direction of Nineveh at which point God causes a bad storm. The sailors realize that Jonah is the problem, and they throw him overboard. Then, just before drowning, Jonah is swallowed by a big fish and for three days our hero is given a whale of a time-out. Nothing like sitting in the dark, slimy belly of a large aquatic creature for a few days to make you reflect and think about what you have done. So, from inside the large fish, Jonah thanks God for God’s mercy in saving him from the deep. Then, Jonah gets thrown up on the shores of…you guessed it, Nineveh!  Gross – but very funny.  Jonah thought he could escape what God called him to do and now he is covered in whale puke.  Well, the fun continues. When he gets to Nineveh, he moans to God that the city is absurdly humongous, a three-days walk, or about sixty miles.  How could he ever possibly cover that much distance?  Anyway, he whines and complains, but he does do what God commands.  When he gets to Nineveh, he is the most ridiculous, reluctant prophet, with the most hopeless message ever.  He speaks a paltry little eight-word sermon, saying, “Just forty days, and you will be overthrown.”  No message about God, just those eight words!  You see, Jonah really did not want to share the news of God’s mercy to those hated Assyrians and his message was truly a measly proclamation. Yet, almost in spite of Jonah, Nineveh does repent along with all of the livestock!  The people and the livestock fast and put on sackcloth!  Now, think about it – repenting cows wearing sackcloth?  Anyway, as the people repent, God changes God’s mind!  In fact, the story says God repents and the people are saved.  Then, hilariously, Jonah storms off like a little kid, pouting because the people really did repent! He then takes an ancient, beautiful song of praise from the book of Joel, the verse on which the midrash is based, twists it and uses it to complain to God as he says, “That’s why I fled in the first place, because I knew you are a gracious God, a merciful God, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love!” And, for extra melodrama, he adds, “Just kill me now.” God responds by making a tree grow, then wither, all in a lighthearted attempt to show Jonah something about compassion. Then, God asks Jonah, “If you care about a tree, why can’t I care about Nineveh?” That is the story of the very reluctant prophet, Jonah. It’s a great tall tale. So, what is it about? Friends, Jonah is one of those stories in the Bible that is very, very true without being particularly factual.  There actually was a man named Jonah, and you can find him in 2 Kings, chapter 14, verse 25 where he gets one small mention.  And, the Assyrians had been a very powerful and feared nation, but Nineveh had been destroyed long before the story of Jonah was even written.  The author took these few facts to spin a story aimed at getting the people of Israel to broaden their understanding of the wideness of God’s mercy.  You see, if God can love and forgive the wicked, despised people of Nineveh, God can love and forgive anybody, including us.  And, if God can forgive anybody, so can we. So, as we look at our present context, as we look at the division and hatred that spews forth from so many people, the lies that have been told, the conspiracy theories that have been propagated, and the grief and pain so many people are experiencing, to what is God calling us?  What if God is calling us to do something we do not want to do?  What if God is calling us to extend to others not only God’s mercy but our mercy, not only God’s love but our love, not only God’s forgiveness but our forgiveness, to the people we don’t like, to the people we don’t believe deserve love and forgiveness and mercy? Quite honestly, we may sit minding our own business, being nice and good to those who are nice and good to us, busy about the business of creating a friendly, family church, and not hear God calling us to proclaim God’s message of mercy, forgiveness, and love to this broken world.  Like the disciples in our gospel reading, we may be working on the home front, merely mending our own nets.  But, in the person of Jesus, the voice of God is always calling to us saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near.  Repent, and believe the good news!” To repent means to turn around, to change your mind and to turn back toward God.  When we hear this call, how shall we respond?  Will we repent?  Will we change our minds about what’s important and alter the direction of our lives to more faithfully follow God’s call?  Will we, like the disciples in our gospel lesson, leave whatever boats and nets are representative of the “stuff” we hold on to in our lives, and follow after the one who calls us?  Will we go to “Nineveh” and proclaim God’s love? Friends, it is helpful to wonder and ponder all these things. However, the biggest news and message in this story is this:  in a certain sense, our reactions and responses really do not matter.  God knows and accepts human frailty and loves us and reaches out to us and ALL OTHERS with compassion anyway – even when we are rebellious, angry, pouting, or despairing.  Friends, God is always coming after us, pursuing us with mercy and grace, and God’s mercy is wider than we can even begin to imagine.  The biggest news of all, the news that needs to be exaggerated and proclaimed is this:  God is gracious and God will be gracious to whom God wants to be gracious.  As Nadia Bolz Weber says: God loves you. [God loves me.] God loves you and God loves your enemies. God loves those who love your enemies. Which means that [God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love towards you, even though you are in all likelihood – someone else’s enemy]. God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love towards me even though I am in all likelihood – someone else’s enemy.  How many generations, how many layers of divine mercy do we need before we get the message?           That is truly THE good news for everyone!!

Sermon - 1/24/21

I am still shaken over what happened at our nation’s capitol on January 6th.  My heart grieves because of the deep brokenness in our culture.  In fact, I have been feeling for some time that our present context could be described by the words we find in 1 Samuel this morning where we read, “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.”  Too frequently, the loudest religious voices in present culture have been voices of Christian nationalism which is not Christianity.  What we saw on January 6 was the result of the fusion of fundamentalist Christian nationalism, racism, conspiracy theories, populism, white supremacist ideology, and extremism.  And, as insurgents stormed the capitol, many described themselves as participants in a kind of holy war.  It was hateful, violent, appalling, and it was wrong! This is NOT Christianity! This is NOT how Christians are called to live. These actions do not display the call to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself! So, it is fitting that in today’s readings, we hear call stories.  Call stories tell us about the response of people of faith to God’s call in their lives, and they help to inform us of the way we are called to live. We hear about the call of Samuel, a little boy who grew up to become one of the great prophets of the Old Testament.  In our New Testament reading, we hear Paul telling us we are called to live our lives as faithful Christians, thinking of our very bodies as temples, bodies worthy of bearing the Holy Spirit in this world.  And our gospel reading tells us of the call of Philip and Nathanael, two of Jesus’ first disciples. In this gospel reading, Nathanael’s call to follow Jesus is not dramatic like Samuel’s. It is somewhat gradual.  It evolves through engaging conversation.  In fact, it seems as though Nathanael did not even want to meet this guy, Jesus.  He was just doing it as a favor to his friend. When Philip tells him Jesus is the one of whom the prophets spoke, Nathanael replies by honestly speaking his mind saying, “Really? A self-appointed teacher, from that back woods, podunk, little town of Nazareth?” Well, he quickly discovers that this guy, Jesus, at least had a sense of humor.  When he meets Jesus, Jesus says, “Glad to meet you Nathanael, an Israelite without deceit.”  Now, this might have been a backhanded compliment.  Maybe Jesus was saying he appreciated Nathanael honestly speaking his mind, because he did not seem to take offense at the whole Nazareth comment.  But, we who are overhearing this conversation should understand there is a double meaning here. Jesus' calling Nathanael an "Israelite" should bring to mind the ancient story of Jacob which is found in Genesis.  Jacob, a name meaning the deceiver – remember he deceived his brother Esau – later became known as Israel. Anyway, Nathanael is an Israelite without deceit, and this conversation marks the beginning of his relationship with Jesus. But, wait!  There is more! Jesus was not there for Nathanael’s Nazareth comment.  How did Jesus know what he had said?  So, Nathanael asks, “How did you know me?” Jesus then says he saw Nathanael sitting under the fig tree!  How could that have been?  With Jesus’ words, Nathanael becomes convinced, and a confession of belief comes pouring out of Nathanael’s mouth. Nathanael proclaims, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God.”    Jesus confirms it with yet another Jacob reference – this time to Jacob’s ladder.  He says, “The angels will go up and down on the son of man.”  That is, upon himself.  And, he is referencing Jacob’s experience at Bethel, that Genesis story where heaven, the realm of God, comes so close to earth that the inhabitants of the two realms could meet. Now, in Jesus, not just in one geographical place, in this person Jesus, the very life of God has come near. This was the beginning of Nathanael’s journey with Jesus, one that would take him to the most unlikely places. This gradual conversation is important as we hear references of heaven touching earth.  In this person of Jesus, heaven has touched earth.  Heaven is where love reigns.  Heaven is where there is room for all God’s children, and all are welcome at the table.  Heaven is where nothing is broken, and no one is left out.  That is the life-giving ministry Jesus brought to this earth, the ministry he lived, and the ministry into which Nathanael became a disciple. That is what the writer of John’s gospel consistently refers to as eternal life, life that truly matters right here and right now. Wow! Quite frankly, that is not what we have been seeing in our present context over the past few weeks!  But, the good news is that, in Jesus, heaven gets a foothold on this earth as we live into life that truly matters. In Jesus, life that truly matters is breaking in upon this earth.  As Jim Wallis says, “In Jesus, God hits the street.” And, friends, those who follow Jesus are called to live as he lived!  We are called to live God’s LOVE on the streets of this earth as we live in relationship to others. Friends, this is truly an appropriate reading for this weekend as we remember and honor the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., another disciple who followed Jesus.  His call to ministry was also a gradual call.  Listen to how he described being called.  He wrote: My call to ministry was neither dramatic nor spectacular.  It came neither by some miraculous vision nor by some blinding light experience on the road of life.  Moreover, it did not come as a sudden realization.  Rather, it was a response to an inner urge that gradually came upon me.  This urge expressed itself in a desire to serve God and humanity, and the feeling that my talent and my commitment could best be expressed through ministry.  At first, I planned to be a physician; then I turned my attention in the direction of law.  But as I passed through the preparation stages of these two professions, I still felt within that undying urge to serve God and humanity through the ministry.  During my senior year in college, I finally decided to accept the challenge and enter the ministry.  I came to see that God had placed a responsibility upon my shoulders and the more I tried to escape it the more frustrated I would become.  A few months after preaching my first sermon I entered theological seminary.  This, in brief is an account of my call and pilgrimage to the ministry. In 1955, shortly after Dr. King began his ministry in Montgomery, AL, God guided him in new directions. Forced segregation on city buses had become an intense issue that required a response. Rosa Parks had recently been arrested for refusing to give up her seat to a white person while on a city bus. With her trial approaching, local pastors gathered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church to strategize.  They shared ideas, but nothing emerged until a young pastor raised his hand and became the boycott leader. Just like Nathanael, the young Rev. King, experienced in Jesus life that truly matters, the life of God come near. God’s justice had broken into this world and gotten a foothold through the actions of Rosa Parks.  And, Dr. King invited others to join him as they began following Jesus into the streets, seeking justice. Dr. King was God’s ambassador as God’s life-giving, life-changing presence again broke into this world. Many years later, Dr. King would describe his glimpse and vision of what it looks like when the realm of God comes near.  He said: . . . one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. . . my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. (I Have a Dream speech) Martin Luther King, Jr., responded to the call to follow Jesus and he followed to the unexpected places, places that did bring about justice and change.  Quite frankly, it is hard to follow Jesus to some of those places, and Dr. King knew this.  It was from one of those unlikely places, the Birmingham jail, that he wrote about a letter he had just received from a white brother urging caution, who had said, “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but. . . The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth."  Dr. King responded to him, saying: Such an attitude stems . . . from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually . . .human progress . . . comes through the tireless efforts of (persons) willing to be co-workers with God . . .Early Christians entered a town . . . in the conviction that they were “a colony of heaven,” called to obey God . . . Small in number, they were big in commitment . . . By their effort and example, they brought an end to ... ancient evils . . . The time is always ripe to do right.  (Letters from A Birmingham Jail) As we follow Jesus’ call into the streets of this world, we walk in the footsteps of Samuel, Paul, Nathanael and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., living into eternal life, life that truly matters, while bearing God’s creative and redeeming Word in this world.  The time is always ripe to do right!

Sermon - John 1:43-51

I am going to be very honest with you.  My heart is just breaking.  My heart feels torn apart by what we saw last Wednesday as insurrectionists stormed our nation’s capital.  What happened makes me feel like my heart has been ripped apart.  And it is all because of words, malicious words, lies that have been promulgated, and conspiracy theories that have been sold as truth, all of which create bubbles of delusion that imprison peoples’ minds.  Words incited this event.  And, the words and lies that have been spoken destroy lives and yes, they can tear apart and destroy governments and countries!  Words matter!  Words can build up or destroy.  So, again on this day, it is so comforting to hear some words that truly matter, words that are life giving as my heart grieves. Today, we hear the beginning verses of Mark’s gospel as he presents his version of the Jesus story.  Mark’s gospel does not begin with a baby and shepherds and angels.  No. Mark’s version of the Jesus story is very stark, and rather abrupt as it begins at the river when God literally breaks into this broken world through the person of Jesus.  That is how Mark’s telling of the Jesus story begins! “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.”  Mark’s telling of the Jesus story begins as Jesus enters the river with others to be washed in the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  This gospel begins with Jesus’ baptism.  It begins with Jesus entering the historic waters of the Jordan River and doing so in solidarity with sinners, with you and me.  And, this is significant because that is how he would spend his earthly life and ministry – living with, eating with, talking with, and healing sinners, while calling sinners to follow him.  Anyway, what is truly extraordinary, is that when Jesus comes up out of the water, he looks up and sees the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending on him like a dove.  The heavens are not simply opened. They are torn apart as the Spirit is poured out upon Jesus.  Mark intentionally uses the Greek word schizomai, which literally means ripped apart.  This is a form of the verb schitzo as in schism.  When something is ripped apart it is not easily closed again.  When something is ripped apart, we may think of some permanent damage or rupture that cannot be repaired.  This is the image Mark gives us, an image that is strong, even violent.   This is Mark's incarnation narrative—the ripping open of the heavens by God with a declaration that the One on whom the Spirit rests is God’s own Son out of the heavens. The Son of God has pierced the barrier between heaven and earth; God has shattered the cosmos in the incarnation. God shatters the heavens and the cosmos to enter human history in the person of Jesus!  In this gospel, the incarnation of the Son of God is declared by revelation at baptism. Dramatically, abruptly—voice, dove, ripped open heavens—all announce that now the kingdom of God is at hand.  Now, with Jesus’ baptism, comes the beginning of new things, a new beginning in the history of redemption with the advent—the coming—of God’s own Son. Indeed, the kingdom of God has drawn near. The heavens have been torn apart and they will never close again. When Jesus came out of the water, dripping wet, we do not know if anyone else saw what Jesus saw.  What we do know is that a voice came from heaven and spoke to Jesus.  It was personal, intimate, and direct as the voice said, “You are my Son, the Beloved.  With you I am well pleased.  In you my Spirit will be present on earth in a new way.”  Yes, the heavens had been torn apart, God had entered the deep brokenness of the world through and in the person of Jesus Christ, and the heavens would never close again. This ripped apartness, showing a God who is crossing and breaking through all boundaries, showing God present to us, is so significant in Mark’s gospel.  In fact, torn apartness bookends Mark’s gospel.  You see, at the end of Mark’s Jesus story, we again find this same word used to describe the ripping apart of the temple curtain at the very moment of Jesus’ death.  The ripping apart pattern that begins here at Jesus’ baptism, ends with his death.  When the heavens are ripped apart at his baptism, the Spirit enters Jesus, and a heavenly voice addresses him as "Son." And, at the end of the gospel, as Jesus hung on the cross and “breathed out his spirit,” the curtain of the temple was torn apart from top to bottom, just as the heavens had been ripped apart. The holy of holies no longer separated the sanctuary from the people. The curtain could never be repaired. And, on that dark Friday, there was another voice that was heard. It was a voice not from far away but from close by, from someone present on the scene.  This voice did not come from up in the heavens.  It came from down on the earth.  It was the voice of a centurion soldier who stood at the foot of the cross keeping order, waiting to pronounce death. When he saw that Jesus had breathed his last, he was the one who said, "Truly this man was God's Son." In this person we call Jesus, all protecting barriers are now gone.  And, in Jesus, we discover God is unwilling to be confined to sacred spaces.  God is on the loose in our own realm, in our world.  God is with us and things will never again be the same.  And, it is in the torn apart place where God has entered, where God has come through, and that place will never again be closed as it was before.  In the person of Jesus, we see God tearing apart all the presupposed ideas humanity has created for what Messiah God should look like.  In Jesus, we see a tearing apart of the social fabric that separates rich from poor.  We see God breaking through people’s hardness of heart to bring forth compassion.  We see God breaking through rituals that have grown rigid and routine.  We see God tearing apart the many kinds of chains that bind. And, as God continues to break into the broken torn apart places in our lives, I pray God breaks through the myriad of delusions that imprison us, those falsehoods and conspiracy theories that seem to be controlling so many people’s minds. I also especially pray God continues to tear apart our preconceived notions of what it means to be God’s beloved child so that we can know God loves us as we are.  We are God’s beloved! And so, I ask you, is there a torn apart place in your life?  I know there have been ripped apart places in my life, times when I have felt as though my very life was torn apart.  And, right now my heart is deeply torn as I see our country torn apart. We all have torn apart places in our lives, places where the very fabric of life seems to be ripped apart.  Right now, we as a Faith community, feel torn apart because of this virus.  Our lives feel torn apart as we must live very differently during this painful time. However, the gospel Good News to us is that it is in those torn apart, ripped apart places in life where God is so very present.  God enters the ripped apart places in our lives and comes to us in water, in Word, in bread and wine, and says to us, “You are my own Beloved Child.  In baptism, I have poured my Spirit into you, I am with you and you are mine.  Everything has changed, and you have been made new.”  Yes, words matter, and these words bring life giving love that changes us! My friends, the gospel Good News Word to us on this day is that you belong to the God who created you and created all that is.  The gospel Good News is that God has crossed all boundaries to name and claim you as God’s own.  The gospel Good News is that you have been baptized into the death of Jesus.  You have been baptized into the Word made Flesh so that you might become the Flesh made Word and carry God’s redeeming, grace-filled Word to the world!  You have been baptized into the Word made Flesh so that you might become an agent of what you have received: You are now God’s agent of grace, love, forgiveness, and mercy in this very torn apart world, even in the ripped apart aspects of our present lives.  Live into your God given identity as a baptized child of God! 

Sermon - 1/10/21

The turning of the calendar year has a way of instilling an expectation of new beginnings, a promise of hope that life and present circumstances will get better.  And, quite frankly, as we think of the suffering the world has experienced this past year, the horror of this pandemic, the hundreds of thousands of people who have died and will die before the pandemic is over, the millions of job losses, the businesses that have been impacted, the racial injustice and political unrest, many of us begin this year with a deep longing and yearning for renewed hope, a hope that 2021 will be better than 2020.  Yes, the turning of the year has a way of offering us a sense of rekindled hope and the beginning of a new chapter in life. Our readings today also provide us with words of hope, new life, and new beginnings.  Jeremiah proclaims a message of hope to people scattered and displaced in exile.  Jeremiah says God will save the people, God will gather the people together and bring them back to their homeland.  God will recreate God’s people and turn their mourning into joy.  For each one of us, we presently feel as though we have been scattered because of this pandemic.  We feel a certain kind of displacement and we deeply long to gather again.  While we now have a renewed sense of hope with the development of a vaccine, Jeremiah’s words also provide us with hope of new beginnings.  You see, God is the one who will ultimately gather us, bring us together again as a community of faith, recreate us as God’s very own and make us new.  In fact, that has been something God has been doing from the beginning of time.  We hear more about that in today’s gospel reading where we receive a word that is all about newness and new beginnnings as we hear John’s telling of the Jesus story.  We find the author of this gospel introducing a daring, audacious, bold message that tells of a whole new beginning for humankind, a whole new beginning for the world. The writer of John’s gospel begins presenting the Jesus story in a very lofty, grand manner.  And, in doing so, he is so gutsy in his telling of this new beginning through the person of Jesus that his first words to us are “In the beginning….”  If we have any understanding of Biblical literature, we will recognize that these three words are also the beginning words in the book of Genesis.  You will remember that in that first book of the Hebrew Bible we read, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”  John’s use of these three words is very intentional.  John wants his readers to know that in Jesus, we live into the beginning of a whole new creation.  The writer of John’s gospel is intentionally connecting us to the book of Genesis because, in the person of Jesus, he sees a new beginning of history, of humanity and of God’s involvement in all of creation.  In John’s telling of the Jesus story, he wants us to understand that, through the incarnate Word, Jesus the Christ, the Word made flesh, we will find a very living, breathing promise of new life. John’s story about Jesus is designed from beginning to end not just to tell us, but to evoke for us, the living, breathing promise of a new beginning to all of human history in and through the incarnate Word, Jesus the Christ. That’s why he patterns his opening after Genesis. By connecting the Jesus story to Genesis, John is stipulating nothing less than this:  God poured God’s own self into human form.  Jesus is the eternal Word, the eternal Word that was God’s proactive agent in the creation of all things – even life itself.  And, this eternal Word continues to create and make all things new! For all of us, as much as we want and deeply desire to see God, we cannot literally do so.  Our inability to literally see God seems much more apparent in times of great need, in times when the darkness of life seems to overwhelm life itself, in times like this present pandemic experience.  That darkness might come to us personally through illness, death, job loss, depression, loneliness, or tragedy.  At times like these, we are keenly aware that we are simply unable to literally see God.  As our country experiences so much illness, suffering, racial injustice, and the many forms of hatred espoused upon others, we collectively experience darkness and are keenly aware of our limitations when it comes to seeing God.  So, because of our limitations, God becomes human in the person of Jesus.  God becomes human that we may see God.  In the person of Jesus, God becomes accessible to us.  In Jesus, the eternal God becomes finite and vulnerable, all for our sake so that we may see the very heart of God.  No longer is God a disembodied voice from some distant place.  The incarnation enables us to see that not only is Jesus like God, God is like Jesus, and has always been!  God loves us so deeply that God is lovingly and graciously present to us even in the darkest places and times of life.  And, all of the darkness that ever existed, that is present now, or that will exist in the future is unable to overcome the light of the eternal Word, the Word that creates and recreates the world, the Word made flesh, the very life force that continually animates the entire created order – even you and me.  Oh yes, John wants us to fully understand that, in the person of Jesus, God is doing something very, very new.  God is not finished creating. God continues to create because God is the Creator, and there is always new beginning, as John begins his Jesus story by saying, “In the beginning.” The need for new creation is lodged in God’s truth that new creation is essential to the world, essential to God’s character, and essential to how God wants to be in the world. “In the beginning” is God as Creator, then and now, in the past, in the present and in the future. “In the beginning” is the memory of God making all things new. “In the beginning” is the promise of God’s steadfast love, there, then, here, and now. “In the beginning” is the promise that God will never let us go, no matter what happens, no matter what the future brings. This is the meaning of those three words: God says new things. God is new things. God becoming human is “in the beginning” in its fullest form. It is light once again. It is the goodness of humanity once again. It is God recreating God’s very self because that is who God is and that is what we are and will continue to be as believers – reborn children of God. “The Word became flesh and lived among us.” This flesh. Skin and bones. God pitched a tent among us in flesh and bones. God becoming flesh means God gets flesh! God understands what it feels like and what it means to be human. And because of that, God will never give up on what God has created. Nothing is beyond God’s reach. God realized that we human beings, God’s beautiful creations, we need to experience re-creation on a regular basis. Otherwise, life is too much about death. We need this promise – the promise of God’s commitment to recreating God’s very self, our selves, and the world. It’s the creation story all over again: God created the heavens and the earth, God created humankind in God’s own image, and God created you! Friends, the coming of the Word made flesh has enabled those who follow Jesus, each one of us, to embody God’s creative Word.  Jesus is not alone in this Word made flesh business.  The creative, living Word is still at work in and through us.  Because of God’s decision to come to us in a form we recognize, in Jesus the Christ, we are empowered to reach out to those around us. By the grace of God and, through baptism, through bread and wine, and through the work of the Spirit, God is at work putting skin on God’s Word through us.  And, we are called to continually bear God’s creative and redeeming Word in this world and carry God’s Word of life to others through all that we do and the way in which we live.  In the person of Jesus, God has invaded this broken world and God is working through God’s people, shining the light of God’s presence even in the darkest places of the world, even right here and right now.  So, on this first Sunday of the new year, the message we are given is all about newness, all about hope, all about recreation and all about being made new. God is at work and about the business of making us new and making all things new.

Sermon - John 1: 1-18

This is a recording of the service from 12-27-20. It is a rebroadcast of last year's Sunday after Christmas. It is a compilation of readings and carols.

Service - 12-27-20

Tonight’s gospel reading begins with three very important words: In those days!  “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.”  As we think about this treasured story, I am going to say something that just may shatter some of your preconceived notions.  I must tell you, there is no historical evidence that this decree, as told by Luke, ever took place.  And, unless there is something we do not know, the writer of Luke’s gospel also seems to be incorrect about Quirinius or Herod the Great or both because traditional dating of the birth of Jesus would locate it during the reigns of neither Herod the Great nor Quirinius.  So, what is going on here?  Well, Luke is not interested in giving an historical account of Jesus’ birth because he is interested in proclaiming a much deeper truth! Luke gives us this information, not as history, but as a theological work to tell the story of One who has come into this world to change and quite literally shatter the status quo.  Luke’s gospel, more than any of the other gospels, addresses the social, cultural, and political environment. So, Luke gives us this information as a way of setting the political and social context for the coming appearance of this One we call Jesus and the astonishing, awesome arrival of a brand-new world. Luke begins with “In those days…” as he depicts a time of census taking and taxes, a time of authoritative orders and pronouncements, a time shaped by business as usual in a world organized by accepted oppressive power structures, a world where those in power work to maintain the tired and hopeless status quo. The setting of Luke’s version of the Jesus story begins in the context of manifest political power, a context that, quite frankly, describes almost any time in history.  Luke names the status quo way political, economic, and social forces shape our lives and our minds and our hearts to the point where we think that is the only reality. You see, that is the story of the world, that is the human story, the story of our human predicament.  That is the story of “in those days.” Yes, this gospel begins by naming the story of the status quo, tired and hopeless, business as usual human predicament of “in those days.,” so that we can begin to grasp the earth-shattering news that is announced about “This day…!”  You see, a new time, a whole new age, has entered the world on “this day…” in the most unexpected way – in the form of a small, vulnerable baby.  And, this new time is characterized not by the drudgery of business as usual or the threat of imperial power, but by the inbreaking of the heavenly realm, the wonder of the songs of angels, and the “good news of great joy for all people!”  For “this day” has a political dimension; this new time is a direct challenge to the imperial world of “in those days.”  There is a new Savior, a title formerly reserved only for the emperor.  And, this new Savior comes in the form of a vulnerable baby, as God is birthing a whole new creation.  This new day brings the extraordinary wonder of God becoming flesh – Immanuel, God with us.  Can you now begin to grasp the magnitude of this earth-shattering news?  Friends, on this night, the news we receive is astounding, and we dare not forget the scandal and magnitude of this news, news of both the cradle and the cross.  We dare not be lulled by our culture’s attempts to sentimentalize Christmas. We all do it and to be honest, it even happens in the church. Think for a moment about how our own hymnody conspires to tame this festival day into something more palatable and more feel good. Consider the opening of the beloved carol O Little Town of Bethlehem. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.” Lovely words from Phillips Brooks.  But, if we think about the tumultuous history of the Middle East, imagining Bethlehem as peaceful more expresses a longing than a historical reality. And what about Away In A Manger telling us, “The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes?” No crying? Any nurse or doctor would call that a zero on the Apgar score and would start resuscitation attempts immediately. Seriously, while we need these images to help us ponder the wonder and mystery of this night, they also soften and sentimentalize the scandal and earth-shattering nature of Christmas.  Between sentimentality, emotional burdens, the pain so many are presently feeling, and unrealistic cultural expectations, perhaps we need this child of God to shake up what we have made of Christmas.  Friends, the reality is we come together this night to pay honor to our God who subversively came to change everything!  And, how does God create this earth-shattering disruption?  By bringing unconditional, transformational love to the world. This subversive God snuck into the back door of history on a mission to truly disrupt and change the world by turning our lives inside out and upside down with a love that truly changes us, a love that can transform everything and everyone. Coming as one of us – vulnerable, poor, and powerless – he came to upend the world as we have constructed it by bringing love into the world, a love the world would otherwise have never known. He came to shatter our selfishness and narcissism, so that we might be able to love God and others. He came to shatter our fear of death, so that we might be able to live more fully and freely in this life. He came to shatter and change the political systems that choose who is in and who is out, so that we might embrace a wider vision the human family and discover that God’s family includes all people. He came to shatter our tendency of tribalism, something we presently see pushed to the extreme as it pits one group against another. He came to change our economy of values to build a different one based on valuing the eternal and life that truly matters. He came to shatter the old regimes of “in those days,” and bring in a whole new regime. Yes, he came to shatter every structure we try to build which puts us first at the expense of everyone else.  He came to change us, and he calls us to follow him. This is no small thing. For 2000 plus years, people have gathered to mark the birth of Christ as God’s subversive way of dwelling among us.  Tonight, as we gather in the darkness of this pandemic, even if our gathering is online, we gather to celebrate this subversive God and mark a vision of the kingdom of God unfolding right here in our midst.  And we do this because to you is born this day a Savior, who is the Messiah, Christ the Lord.  May the wonder and mystery of this holy child disrupt and change your life, and bring you renewed hope not only on this day, but on every day as we move forward into yet another year.  And, may the grace and love of this child be planted in your heart so that you may more deeply come to know how immeasurably you are loved by the God of all creation!

Sermon - Luke 2:1-14 - Christmas Eve

I would like to share with you the words of a new Advent hymn by David Bjorlin, a hymn that so beautifully describes what I am feeling in the deepest part of my being at this present time.  These are the verses: Come now, O God, when our love is forsaken. Come, when our bedrock of faith has been shaken. Come, when our deepest of hopes are mistaken. Come, Emmanuel.  Come, Emmanuel.   Come, when we squander the freedom you gave us. Come, break the systems of sin that enslave us. Come, though we wonder if you can still save us. Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.   Come, put an end to our self-serving madness. Come, while the world is enshrouded in sadness. Come, turn the tears of our mourning to gladness. Come, Emmanuel.  Come, Emmanuel.   Advent is a time to acknowledge and be honest about our longing for God to break into what was and what is.  It is a time to articulate our longing for God to break into our forsaken love, our shaken faith, our mistaken hopes, the skewed ways we have squandered and abused the freedom we have been given, the systems of sin that enslave us, our self-serving madness, the world’s sadness, and our grieving tears.  This longing we express with the words, “Come, though we wonder if you can still save us,” makes clear to me that we, on our own as human beings, are not capable of creating our own salvation.  And, quite honestly, we do not even have the capacity to imagine the ways of God.  The salvation we so long for is always something that must come from beyond us, beyond our own human understanding. The ways of God need to disrupt our present situation and break into our lives for us to become changed. And, we cannot anticipate how God will act, how God will break into human history – how God will surprisingly break into our history in truly unexpected ways. So, as we live this season, I envision Advent as a time that could be compared to something like a hinge – it is a liminal, transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension. Advent invites us to be aware and to discern, to notice where a holy disruption breaks into what is and brings transformation. It is about being aware of the places where God is breaking into this world, where God is at work in our world, and where God is at work in our lives. This year the tension of that liminal, transitional space has been especially strong. In the face of this pandemic, as we see thousands of people dying, as we see the growing economic blight, and the political self-serving madness and strife, quite frankly the peace foretold by ancient prophets seems illusory at best. The justice that makes valleys low and rough places a plain seems far off in face of oppressive, racist systems that scapegoat immigrants and devalue lives of color. And, when we consider our personal challenges and pains, and those of our family and friends, it can be confusing and very overwhelming. That is why, today’s gospel reading is such good news!   Today, as we look at our gospel reading, we can learn from Mary’s example.  In today’s reading, Luke tells us that redemption is possible and, in fact, has already happened.  Because of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the Universal Christ, the holy continues to break into our lives to bring us ever more closely to the completion of creation. When we look at today’s gospel, Mary, just like us, seems to be confused and overwhelmed. As we look at Mary’s response to Gabriel’s message, we discover she really does not fully comprehend the meaning of this news and, in fact, she has a choice in how she will respond. Theologian, Barbara Brown Taylor, addresses with deep insight the question of Mary's "choice," her freedom to respond in this most unusual situation in which she finds herself. Taylor says that, yes, the angel announced the impending birth and did not ask Mary for her assent, but there is a choice for Mary, "whether to take hold of the unknown life the angel held out to her or whether to defend herself against it however she could.” As she receives this news from God, Mary asks, “How can this be?” And then, she becomes not simply a passive recipient of this news.  She responds by saying yes to this experience.  She actively becomes a willing partner in the holy disruption that befalls her.  And, because of her response, Mary’s womb gives birth to the Son of God and new life to the world. Today’s gospel reading is all about the incarnation, it is about Emmanuel, God with us.  Friends, this story of Mary is truly OUR story.  It is about incarnate Love, incarnate Love that is with us, not just in a manger long ago but reborn in each one of us, reborn in the here and now.  It is about saying yes to God’s incarnate love as it breaks into the most unexpected places and in the most surprising ways in each of our lives, saying yes so God is again born into this world. The 13th century philosopher, theologian, and mystic Meister Eckhart (1260-1328) echoes this when he writes:  We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly, but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to God’s very Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of Man is begotten in us.   Yes, Mary’s story is our story.  Incarnation is an ongoing and steady process, not just a historic event.  And, like Mary, we are given the gift of choice. Mary had the freedom to respond in this most unusual situation, and we are given this freedom as well. We can decide whether to take hold of the unknown life God holds out to us, even in these present, challenging circumstances, or whether to defend ourselves against it however we might. Taylor says, “We have a similar choice between possibilities in our own lives.  We can respond by saying yes or no: yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me or no, I will not.... You can say no to your life, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again." And then, Taylor takes a bold turn that calls for courage on our part.  She says, “If we say yes to our lives, you can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body." ("Mothers of God," is in Gospel Medicine). So, friends, I ask you, how are you bearing God in this world?  When we say yes, we become transformed, we are forever changed, and the world becomes transformed as we continue to give birth to the very life of Christ among us.  When we say yes, we become a part of this movement that is the birthing of the growing Universal Christ in this world.  And, the coming of Christ always brings forth a love, a peace and justice that transform the very world around us.  You see, the love, peace and justice which come from God to transform the world, then work through us as we collectively act and live it in this world. So, as we come to the end of this season of Advent, naming our longing for God to break in to what is and bring forth salvation, as we live in that transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension, we do this knowing that Christ is breaking in and Christ will continue to break in to the deep brokenness of this world.  As we move through this week and again experience the coming of the Christ child, we know this birth means it is time for us to give birth to the Universal Christ.  And, then it is time for the work of Christmas to truly begin, the “work of Christmas” Howard Thurman writes about when he says:   When the song of the angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and princes are home, when the shepherds are back with their flocks, the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people, to make music in the heart.

Sermon - Luke 1:26-38

Walter Brueggemann, one of my favorite theologians, when reflecting on this time in the church year, writes the following, “Advent does not begin in buoyancy or celebration or in a shopping spree.  The natural habitat of Advent is a community of hurt.  It is the voice of those who know profound grief, who articulate it and do not cover it over.” Yes, that is our habitat as we experience Advent, especially this year, and I have been deeply feeling the hurt, the pain, and the grief.  Ours are voices of those who know profound grief.  We are in a very dark place at the present time and it is imperative that we articulate the pain and grief and not cover it over.  It is also imperative that we listen to those who speak truth as we experience this grief.  We are living in a culture in which “truth decay” (a term recently coined by President Obama) seems to permeate every facet of our life, and it is critical in this dark time that we listen to those who witness to the truth, not those who spew forth toxic conspiracy theories, lies and misinformation.  Right now, in the depth of our pain, it is vital that we listen to the scientists and medical professionals because they are the ones who point to the truth and point us to what we need to do to eventually reach the light at the end of this very dark tunnel.  They are the ones who testify to the truth, a truth to which we must listen because that truth to which they testify is ultimately life-giving during this dark time. I say this because, when looking at today’s gospel reading, at the time when John appeared on the scene, the people were hurting and facing much suffering.  And, this character, John, enters the scene as one who comes bearing witness to the truth.  In today’s reading, we meet John, the first human mentioned in the Gospel of John.  This lone character, John, is the star of today’s show and he is a man sent from God.  It is important to note that he is not identified as John the Baptist as we find in Matthew’s gospel.  He is not identified as John the baptizer as in Mark.  And, he is not identified as John the son of Zechariah as in Luke.  He is simply identified as John.  He is John the Witness.  While he is described as doing some general baptizing here and there, a careful read of this gospel writer’s story of Jesus' baptism reveals that John does not even baptize Jesus. His primary role is not as one who baptizes but one who testifies to the light coming into the world.  In John’s gospel, this John character is a very human witness to a cosmic event. You see, God is about the business of ordering a new creation, a new presence of light in the world, but this effort necessitates a fellow human to point to the presence of this light.  Otherwise, human as we are, we might not see it.  So, that human is John. Smack dab in the middle of the out of this world, beyond time and space beginnings of this fourth gospel, interrupting the unfolding of a truly cosmic birth story, John appears, testifying to the light.  Well, his testimony brings on all kinds of questions.  So down from the capital come the interrogators, and the result is a fierce press conference. “Who do you think you are?” “Do you think you’re the messiah?” “Are you representing yourself as Elijah?” “Why are you baptizing like this?” “What do you say about yourself?” The questions ricochet like rifle shots bouncing off walls. The aim of these questioners is to reveal some damaging information, some falsehood, to show that this threatening figure of John is just a cracked and broken cistern like the rest of humanity.  After all, just maybe he does think he is Elijah incarnate, or worse, fancies himself the actual messiah and comes seeking fame and glory. If so, you can be certain John’s message will be tried, twisted, and tested like the message of a politician on the campaign trail. He will likely be dubbed a damaged and flawed human being, full of worldly ambition and self-delusion. But John’s answer is quite surprising. “It’s not about me,” he replies. “I’m pointing beyond myself to one who comes after me, to the Lamb of God. My whole life has now become a gesture to what God is doing to shake the foundations of the status quo and re-create the world.”  You see, because John has a holy vocation, not merely a human ambition, the fear of exposure before the glare of interrogation simply vanishes. He does not fear!  He seems to say, “Find all the flaws you want and smoke out all the vanities you can find. The meaning of my life is not in what you think about me, but how you respond to the one to whom my life points.” John identifies himself in, with, and by his relationship to the light, to the One who is coming, to the One known as Jesus, to the One who is shaking the status quo and recreating the world. And, whereas the One who is coming, this One who is recreating the world, defines himself as "I AM," John is clear to say, "I am not." He is not the Messiah, Elijah, or the Prophet. He is not the light that shines in the darkness. Yet, even in his resolute claims about who he is not, who he is and why he is here is defined by and inseparable from the presence of the Word made flesh in his midst. He knows nothing but to articulate his identity and live out that identity in connection to Jesus' identity.  John’s sole vocation in this fourth gospel is to bear witness to the Word made flesh, to bear witness to the light.  In fact, in this gospel, John is the lead witness on Jesus’ behalf.  It is fascinating to note that the verb “witness” is used thirty-three times in the gospel of John but only twice in the entirety of the other three gospels. John’s role in this gospel is to recognize the true light when it appears and to testify to that light. John does not fear as he stakes his very life on his call to testify to the light so that others may recognize it and believe – that is, recognize, trust in, and commit themselves to the light.  John truly understands his role and who he is.  He is not the Messiah.  That job has already been filled.  He simply lives his life pointing to the Messiah. Like the man whose name was John, the church, and that means each one of us, is sent into today's world as a witness.  And, when we look at today’s reading and John’s witness, we find we may characterize this witness as public, certain, and humble.  These qualities are most certainly in tension with the spirit of our age. Most people today regard religion as a private matter. Most people want to keep their personal beliefs quiet, staying safe and cocooned in their comfortable and all too often misinformed bubble, not getting their hands dirty because any other way of living is too risky.   Furthermore, certainty and truth are also shunned in these postmodern times.  Yes, “truth decay” permeates our culture and we are all victims of our own perspectives and the bubbles in which we live.  Truth has become so relative – who can ever know for sure whether anything is true or not? In fact, a focus on truth is something that seems harder and harder to find. Still, we who claim to follow Jesus are audacious enough to believe that the gospel is true, and that it must be lived out in our daily lives and proclaimed boldly – publicly and confidently, without fear.  The trick is to bear witness to this truth with humility. For John, and for each of us, that means directing people away from self and toward Jesus. In this Advent season, our reading on this Sunday calls us to trust God’s living Word to us in the person of Jesus Christ, and to live out our faith by trusting in and pointing to the One who is greater than ourselves.  As we do that in this present time, we acknowledge our pain and the fact that we presently live in a world where, as Walter Brueggemann says, “the kingdom of death is surging – in the virus, in the failed economy that breeds starvation for many, in our ready embrace of brutality, [in the hatred and racism that plagues our culture], and in the surge of anti-neighborly, fearful greed.  This is the truth that is right in front of us.  It is not however, the whole truth.  It is not the truth entrusted to us. The truth entrusted to us is that there is a ‘coming one,’ [the One to whom we point] who in actual bodily ways rescues from the power of death.” Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Sermon - John 1:6-8

We all have certain things in life that provide us with a sense of comfort when we feel stressed out or feel we need a bit of solace.  Food is one thing that probably provides a kind of comfort for all of us in one way or another. There are some comfort foods I simply love – like the brie and lobster grilled cheese sandwich on sourdough bread at River House in Williamston. I could relish eating that sandwich every single day. As I savor the flavors of the soft, warm brie and the tender pieces of delicious lobster meat, each luscious bite provides a feeling of wellbeing and comfort. Sitting downstairs in our family room with a fire burning in the fireplace on a cold snowy evening, while at the same time reading a book and having a glass of wine, is another experience that provides a stress relieving sense of comfort for me. We are presently experiencing some very stress-filled, grief laden, anxiety producing days. And, as we look at Isaiah’s words to us on this day, they provide us with an experience of comfort that is truly gift as we hear, “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.”  When I initially read these words, I felt them in a deep, even guttural way, as they touched my very soul.  They are words I needed to hear. It was truly soothing to receive this word and experience a feeling of comfort that deeply touched my spirit, even to the point that I began to breath more deeply. Reading these words also made me very aware of the depth of my own discomfort and dis-ease and, quite likely, these words may also make you aware of the depth of your discomfort and dis-ease in this present time. This first reading comes from second Isaiah when the prophet was speaking and writing to people who were living in exile in Babylon.  In 586 BCE, the Jerusalem Temple had been destroyed, the people had been taken captive, then led away to exile in Babylon.  Isaiah is speaking to people who have been living in exile. And, I have no doubt that part of their exile experience included living with abusive, harsh, weaponized, hurtful, and critical language. So, Isaiah’s tender words must have been like a healing balm for the people.  You see, words really do matter.  Words shape us and mold us, for better or worse!  Words can be hurtful, damaging, and injurious, or they can be healing, life-giving and comforting. This whole passage is a kind of embrace. It begins with words of comfort and ends with the image of a “mighty God.”  However, the “mighty God” image is not that of a mighty warrior, not one of a returning hero, but rather the image of a caring, tender shepherd.  Isaiah speaks of a shepherd feeding and leading his flock, gathering lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and gently leading the mother sheep. I ask you, as we are honest about the dis-comfort and dis-ease we have been experiencing, what better image is there than that of a God who embraces you, takes you up and holds you close in God’s very arms, whispers in your ear that you are loved, and says, “It’s going to be ok!”  This is an image of the very arms of God pulling her children close, pulling each one of you close! Yes, there is so much discomfort in our hearts these days, both individually and collectively.  There is discomfort because of the abusive, harsh, hateful, weaponized rhetoric that has been hitting us like bullets for the past few years; discomfort because of this pandemic; discomfort, distress and grief because so many people are dying; discomfort and hardship because millions of people are out of work; discomfort and anguish because millions will likely be losing their homes; and, discomfort and suffering because millions of people are food insecure and that number is growing on a daily basis.  So many voices, so many needs, so much pain, so much death, so much sickness – and sometimes you just need to be hugged!  You don’t need too many words, just a presence, a touch.  At a time when we are unable to be such a physical presence to one another because of this pandemic, these words today seem to provide that needed touch. They are a healing, life-giving hug from a loving God as God holds us and says, “Everything will be all right.”  For each one of you who might need an embrace because everything seems just so challenging right now, I encourage you to take a moment and picture yourself being taken into God’s loving arms and held close to God’s bosom as God offers you words of comfort saying, “It’s going to be ok!” This God in whom we trust truly does comfort the afflicted. As we look again at our reading from Isaiah, we discover there is more, something else that is very important for us to understand.  In the middle of the passage between words of comfort and the tender image of being carried in the bosom of God, we are given things to do and things to be about. Yes, right in the middle of this passage we receive words that truly speak to my heart and my passions.  Right in the middle of this lovely reading come words that, to me, are thrilling when we hear: A voice cries out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.  Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low: the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.  Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together. Friends, you see, we are comforted and spoken tenderly to so that we can be about the business of comforting others!  We are comforted so that we can be about the business of leveling the playing field and creating access for every beloved child of God who yearns to be safe, who yearns to make a living, who yearns to be educated, who yearns for a job, who yearns to provide food on the family table, who yearns and struggles with the dis-ease of economic blight, who yearns to just have enough but instead wakes up every day with the discomfort of poverty and dead ends and mountains too high to climb. Inspiring, motivational speakers are always telling our young people, “Anything you want to become you can become, if you work hard enough.” Now, I am all for individual responsibility and hard work, and there are stories of remarkable triumphs out of the depth of despair and depravity – but, we have to be realistic and understand that, generally speaking, this kind of encouragement is patently false.  It is false because, for far too many people in our culture and our world, the decks are stacked against them, the valleys are far too deep, the mountains are far too high, the ghettos are far too rough, and the playing field is so unevenly tipped towards those who have money, influence, connections, power, the right gender and race. This is true and the exceptions only prove the rule. So, today, we hear Isaiah’s voice come to us resounding through the ages saying, “YOU – the so-called beloved community – you prepare the way of the Lord!” And it is of profound importance that you understand the arrangement of these verses. For only after the highway is made straight, and the valleys are lifted up, and the mountains are made low, and the uneven ground is leveled and the rough places are made a plain… only after the way is prepared will the glory of the Lord be revealed, and then the people will see!  You see, when we have joined God in building the beloved community – the presence of the Lord will be self-evident to everyone! Friends, as we wait for God’s coming, for the birth of the Christ child, we do not wait passively!  We wait while actively participating in God’s living, creative, redeeming Word. Too often we passively wait instead of actively participate in God’s call to work for change in people’s lives and in our culture. Advent is a time to face our discomfort, to turn around and turn back to God and, as we wait, participate in the coming of God’s living, creative Word to the world. Friends, God works through us to change peoples’ lives, to change culture, and to make all things new. As we actively bear God’s creative and redeeming Word, we go to the places where people languish, we do the work of leveling the playing fields, sharing the abundance, and occupying the rough places with words and acts of hope, of equity, of fairness, of love, and of justice.  And, as we prepare the way for the coming of our Lord, we point to not just the Christ child, but the universal risen Christ as we lift our voices, proclaiming good tidings of hope and comfort, saying, “Here is your God!”

Sermon - Isaiah 40:1-11

All of us are on a journey of faith in our lives. At Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan we bring people one a journey of faith each week and share that journey with the world.

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Your Faith Journey - Finding God Through Words, Song and Pra...

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