Christmas Eve

In the “Best Christmas Pageant Ever” the woman Grace who is casting the Christmas play tells the children that Mary is “gentle, sweet and kind” as she explains that the person who plays Mary should have all those qualities.  When Imogene Herdman bullies the other girls to get the role though, Grace knows this pageant isn’t going to be like anything they’ve ever seen before.

At another Christmas play a few weeks ago in a Tennessee church, as the children’s choir sang “Away in a Manger” and Mary and Joseph were gazing adoringly at the baby Jesus, one of the sheep, a two-year old little girl, scooped up the baby doll and began to dance. That wasn’t what anyone expected either.

One of the joys of the Christmas story is God’s surprise for us. Full of grace and love for the whole world, our holy God comes down to earth in the person of Jesus,

and lives among us, fully human.

In him, we see divine love with skin on it and it turns all our expectations upside down.

At least for a little while — as long as the hot chocolate steams, the twinkle lights glow, and the Christmas music plays.

Pastor Delmer Chilton, a Lutheran pastor who’s served congregations throughout the southeast, tells this story about his sons when they were little boys.

They had a favorite book, Richard Scarry’s Christmas Book, that has no words, just pictures.

It shows a traditional [small] town going through the Advent season: pictures of families decorating the house, baking and eating cookies and pies.

It shows the town workers putting up lights and decorations downtown and Sunday School folk at Christmas play practice and Santa Claus in the Toy section of the Department Store.

There is a scene of Candlelight Communion and a Christmas Day with [a big table covered with a feast] and then the opening of gifts around the tree and the blazing fireplace.

[And] throughout the month of December, his boys would sit with him and page through this book. [And after their dad had told the story a few times,] the boys took over, narrating and describing the activities on each page. And, each night they said exactly the same thing, in exactly the same way.

The last page was a two-page panorama showing Christmas trees out by the mail-box to be picked up by the [trash collectors], people going to work, and city workers taking down lights and decorations.

At this point, Delmer says that the boys loved to slam the book shut and shout at the top of their lungs:

BACK TO NORMAL![i]

The good news of the Christmas gospel is that when the hot chocolate cools and the Christmas lights are turned off, the carols fade and the rest of the world goes ‘back to normal’ God remains here on earth with us, and loves us abundantly.

This Christmas I invite you to hold onto the unexpected and surprising appearance of God in your life, and discover the joy found in following our Savior every day.

Let us pray…

Holy God of surprises and joy,

Thank you for your grace and love,

appearing to us as Your Son Jesus and bringing salvation to us all. As we sing, “Glory to you in the highest heaven and on earth peace among all you favor” may we go into the world, to make the good news known to all we meet.

We pray in the name of our blessed Savior, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

---

[i] Chilton, Delmer. The Gospel According to Aunt Mildred: Stories of Family and Faith (p. 33). Brasstown Publishing. Kindle Edition.

Fourth Sunday of Advent

Recently I heard an interview with a woman who has written a book called The Last Castle where she tells the story of the Biltmore House in Asheville. Answering the reporter who asked, “Outside North Carolina, do people know much about Biltmore House and its connection to the Vanderbilts?” the author expressed her surprise at how unknown it is, she said,

“When we’re very close to something, it’s easy to forget that there are people who don’t know anything about it…There are so many things that we all think we should know, or we think everybody should know, but we don’t.”

She could have been describing how many of us read these very familiar texts that we have this morning and tonight in the first two chapters of Luke. After all, who hasn’t heard the story of the angel coming to Mary and telling her that she will be the mother of Jesus? Hasn’t everyone seen a living Nativity, a Christmas play, or at least watched Linus and Charlie Brown at Christmastime?

But on this last Sunday of Advent as we move from waiting and expectation to fulfillment, we are being invited to hear these stories anew.

Speaking to Mary, the angel Gabriel calls her “favored” but Mary doesn’t immediately hear the annunciation — the news that she was unexpectedly becoming a young unmarried mother — as good news,

or evidence of God’s grace to her.

Instead, she answers incredulously, “How can this be?”

Reassuring her, Gabriel describes how “the Holy Spirit will come upon her and the power of the Most High will overshadow her.” These are not ominous storm clouds or the frightening shadows one sees in the darkness of night. Instead, they are references to the covering ascribed to God in the psalms, a shelter of safety and protection that is given to God’s people (Ps. 90 and 139) and to the cloud that covered the Israelites’ tent of meeting during the exodus. (Exodus 40) They are assurances that the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.

Like the bright cloud that overshadows the disciples when they hear God speak in gospel accounts of the Transfiguration, Gabriel is promising that the glory of God is present in these events.

Hearing God speaking through the angel, Mary responds with confidence that springs from her faith, saying,

"Here am I, the servant of the Lord;

let it be with me according to your word.”

This morning’s assigned text ends there, but Luke’s account continues with Mary’s visit to Elizabeth. While both he and Matthew name Mary as the mother of Jesus, only Luke gives us the stories of the annunciation and Mary’s visit to Elizabeth. Notably, in this gospel, women are the primary witnesses to both Jesus’ birth and resurrection.

It isn’t until after Mary is greeted by her cousin and hears Elizabeth’s excitement for Mary and the child she is carrying that we hear the Magnificat,

Mary’s song of jubilation where she sings, “my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

While Mary was certainly set apart, truly God favors us all because God came down to earth in the person of Jesus.

Everything Mary knew — social norms, tradition and custom — was thrown to the wind by the new activity of the Holy Spirit. In bible study this week, we wondered aloud about times when we have questioned, “How can this be?” and where God’s favor has surprised us in our own lives.

Sometimes, “How can this be?” is our response to an unexpected calling. Remember how Abram’s wife Sarai laughed when God told her to expect a child? Mary’s encounter with Elizabeth illustrates how even when we experience God’s grace firsthand, we may not believe it until we hear the affirmation of another person. Mary shows us how to respond to the unknown and unexpected with confidence, grounded in faith, even as Elizabeth models how to be an encourager and provide affirmation.

Other times, “How can this be?” is our response to a changing world that we cannot fully understand. Church historian and author Diana Butler Bass suggests Christianity may be experiencing such a time now. It is a time when “some things will cease to work, no longer make sense, and fail to give comfort or provide guidance.”[i] But she writes that is isn’t a time to despair or lament; instead she writes “that only means we have work to do here and now – to find new paths of meaning, new ways to connect with God and neighbor, and to form new communities and to organize ways of making the world a better place.”[ii]

So, as we hear these old, familiar stories this Advent and Christmas, let’s listen anew and ask, “Where is God coming to us in surprising and unexpected ways?” and “How is God asking us to give birth to the holy?”[iii]

Let us pray…

Most High God,

Thank you for your surprising and abundant grace,

for showing us your favor and coming down to earth in the person of your Son.

Open our eyes to your holy presence in your invitation to work for your glory, and

Send your Holy Spirit upon us that we would rejoice and answer You, “Here am I, Lord.”

Amen.

---

[i] Diana Butler Bass Christianity after Religion, 31.

[ii] Ibid, 32.

[iii] Feasting on the Gospels--Luke, Volume 1: A Feasting on the Word Commentary (Kindle Locations 844-848). Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

Third Sunday of Advent

The Gospel of John is called “the book of signs” because throughout his public ministry, Jesus shows himself in sign and word to his own people as the revelation of God.[i] Where in Luke Jesus comes to us as a baby in a manger, and in Matthew he is the descendant of royalty, the Fourth Evangelist introduces Jesus to us as the λόγος (logos) the “Word” or “revealer” of God.  

In the gospel reading we just heard, we meet Jesus’ cousin John again, but here, unlike last week in Mark, he isn’t baptizing. Instead this account focuses on John’s unique role in the “Good News story of Jesus”[ii] as a herald and the first witness to Jesus.[iii]  

Verses 7 and 8 tells us: “He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.”

Witnesses make statements, sharing firsthand accounts of what they have seen or heard. They are compelling storytellers who speak from their lived experience of a person or event.

John knows his role, and understands, with enviable clarity, that everything he is doing – his reason for being in Bethany – is to point to Jesus.

So, when the priests and Levites sent by the Pharisees ask who he is, John is quick to tell them he is not the long-awaited Messiah, and he is not Elijah, whose return was expected ‘before the day of the Lord.’[iv] Nor is he the Prophet, a much-anticipated figure in the tradition of Moses. Having refused all of these traditional roles, he redirects his interrogators’ attention to Jesus, the one who stands among them but whom they do not know. (1:26)

A leader with influence and followers, John chose to lead by serving; and in giving himself fully to his identity as one who points to Jesus, he participated in the holy event that was initiated when “God came down to us in the flesh in Jesus.”[v]

In this account, Jesus had not yet arrived in Bethany, but John’s words are full of expectation —not giddy, childlike excitement, but faith-filled confidence that hope will reach fulfillment.[vi]

We too, as the church, are called to be filled with expectation and to witness to how God is here, active and moving in our lives, how the light of Jesus Christ is breaking into our world.

Like the news broadcast that takes a daily break from the cycle of hard news to share a ‘good news story’ of a 100-year old woman who still drives or a Santa who knows sign language, we have our own good news stories to tell.

One of the first stories in this issue of SOFIA is about a seminary classmate at Luther who has been called to serve two rural congregations in North Dakota. Like Brook Seaford who preached here in summer 2016 and is now called to serve at Cross and Crown in Matthews, God’s fingerprints are all over Kathy’s story. Importantly though, it isn’t only in the lives of soon-to-be-pastors where God shows up. These stories showcase how congregations of all sizes have imagined new ministries together, including one that claimed a New Jersey parking lot as a ministry site and another that transformed their building into a community hub.

Like these stories, the story of John the witness is that each of us may “put [our] faith into action by pointing to and participating in something larger than [our]selves” and in helping make Christ known.[vii]

Because the hard truth is that for many of our neighbors and perhaps even for some of you who are worshiping here today, Jesus stands among [us] as one who is not known. (1:26) Perhaps, God was reduced to a harsh judge or a distant and unsympathetic puppet master; or what you thought you knew about God has been shattered against the reality of your life, or deep grief and disappointment, cynicism and the noise of the world have eroded your confidence in who you thought God is.

For us all, this is the Good News story of Jesus, and here, the evangelist and John point to Jesus and remind us that God came to us to be with us, to set us free from our worry and suffering, and to send us out to be witnesses, telling others how God loves and cherishes them, too.[viii] Sent out for the sake of the world, we share our firsthand experience of how knowing Jesus changes who we are and our relationships with others and why God’s love matters.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for loving us so much that you came down to us, in the person on your Son Jesus. Fill us with expectation that Your promises are being fulfilled, even now, and give us courage to live out our faith by serving as your witnesses.

We pray in the name of your Son Jesus,

Amen.

---

[i] Raymond E. Brown. The Gospel According to John, Chapters I-XII , 39.

[ii] “Third Sunday of Advent,” Daily Discipleship, ELCA.

[iii] Brown. 45.

[iv] Brown, 47.

[v] David Lose. “In the Meantime,” Advent 3B 2017.

[vi] “Third Sunday of Advent,” Daily Discipleship, ELCA.

[vii] Lose.

[viii] Lose.

First Sunday of Advent

As we move into the Advent season, we begin a new church year and a new year in the three-year lectionary cycle of readings. This year the gospel text moves from Matthew to Mark which is the earliest written of the four gospels we have in the canon. It’s believed it was written as the first generation of Christians was passing away, and many of those hearing this gospel would have been expecting an imminent Second Coming of Christ, within their own lifetimes. [i]

In today’s reading, Jesus is concluding his longest teaching on discipleship in this gospel, and as he teaches, Jesus commands his disciples, “stay alert” and “stay awake.”

Hearing his instructions four weeks before Christmas, we acknowledge we hold different expectations than those first Christians, but I don’t believe Jesus’ call to watchfulness is diminished.

We too are looking for the ways that the reign and rule of God's kingdom has come among us.”[ii]

As Jesus was teaching, he told his disciples, “You do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn,…”[iii]

And, even with that warning still echoing in their ears,

within days, Jesus was betrayed one evening by Judas;

disappointed by the disciples who fell asleep while he prayed at Gethsemane before his arrest;

denied by Peter three times before the cock crowed; and

tried in the early morning by Pilate and crucified.

As often happens, Mark gives us an example of how those first disciples just didn’t ‘get it.’ Even when Jesus was walking among them and sitting at the table,

breaking bread and sharing wine with them,

the disciples were not ready or watchful,

but overcome by greed, by sloth and fatigue, and by fear.

So, it’s no surprise that it is challenging for us, too, to understand what Jesus means for us.

It doesn’t help that the images of the Second Coming that we have from popular books and movies are dark and troubling and fearful, and, as one pastor noted, even in the gospel, “When [Jesus] speaks of the coming reign of God, [he] speaks in heavy apocalyptic language of the sun being darkened, the moon refusing to shine and the stars falling from heaven. There are signs and wonders and terrors and traumas, angels gathering up the chosen ones and Christ coming on the clouds with great power and glory. There is a violence about these accounts, it’s like an earthquake heavy with threat and menace.”[iv]

In the midst of this, when we hear Jesus tell us, “Stay alert!”, we take his words as a threat or a taunt, like children playing hide and seek who hear the searcher call out, “Ready or not, here I come!”

And, we become afraid that we really aren’t ready, or that we will be caught and punished.

But stop for a minute, and remember what we know about who Jesus is and who God is. Does Jesus taunt and tease? Does God lay traps and gleefully wait for us to mess up?

No!

Jesus words are not a threat, but a reminder and assurance that the Son of Man is near – all the time – not only coming at Christmas, or in some unnamed future apocalypse. They are words that encourage us as disciples to be more faithful,

not more fearful.

We can have confidence that God,

who created us and loves us, comes to us as we are,

in all of our imperfections and in all of our shortcomings, 

and promises us that we enjoy the fullness of new life with God.[v]

Jesus calls us to be eager to encounter God and practice an alertness that isn’t about avoiding something unpleasant or preparing for the worst, but an alertness that is an active readiness and full of anticipation for the wonders that God is doing.

So, instead of being in a place of fear and dread,

may we find ourselves in a place of confident wakefulness and watchfulness,

where perhaps, we will see people who we have not seen before because we kept our heads down and eyes averted, hoping to avoid attracting attention or rocking the boat; or,

perhaps we will hear the voices of people we have not heard before because their stories are too complex to tell in soundbites or they have been silenced or ignored by broken systems and corrupt power.

And, perhaps we will see beyond the stigma or label that the stranger carries and welcome the person that God loves, accepts and redeems.

Let us pray…

Holy God,

Thank you for your abundant love and forgiveness that you come to us even in our failures and mistakes;

By your Spirit, awaken us to the world around us and alert us to the ways you are already near.

Help us bear your grace to the whole world.

We pray in the name of your Son Jesus,

Amen.

---

[i] Enter the Bible, www.enterthebible.org/newtestament.aspx?rid=3, accessed December 2, 2017.

[ii] ibid

[iii] Mark 13:35

[iv] Nathan Nettleton, “Fearing your Greatest Hope.” http://laughingbird.net/ComingWeeks.html, accessed December 2, 2017.

[v] David Lose. “In the Meantime”, Advent 1B, 2017.

25th Sunday after Pentecost

Today, we celebrate Christ the King Sunday, a feast first instituted by the Catholic Church in 1925 to witness against the increasing secularism of that age, and in defiance of the rising fascism of Italy’s Mussolini.

On this last Sunday of our church year, we hear the final parable that Jesus tells his disciples as we reach the conclusion of his teaching in Matthew’s gospel. It’s a parable that leads easily to judgment and division, as the shepherd king separates the sheep from the goats, as the righteous will be separated from the unrighteous. Matthew’s repeated theme of judgment throughout this gospel emphasizes the importance of obedience in discipleship. However, in our human condition, we are quick to seize the opportunity to accuse others, to point fingers and ask, “Where were you?” and, “What did you do?”

But in Scripture, God is always the actor, God is always the one whose work is at hand. So, reading this this morning’s texts, instead, we’re going to ask, “What do these texts say about God?”

Matthew’s comparison of the king’s actions to those of a shepherd may hold little meaning for us in modernity, but in Scripture, shepherding language recognizes the sustenance that sheep provided communities in ancient Israel and the importance of the leadership provided by the shepherds “who cared for the flock, making sure it had food and protecting it from harm.”[i]

A shepherd king sharply contrasted with ancient Near East kings who were more likely to be brutal warriors, motivated by power and unmoved by compassion. Nonetheless, the people of Israel had longed for a king after they reached Canaan. Then, for centuries, they suffered through kingships that were, with rare exceptions, characterized by corruption and ambition. Even the greatest kings, like David and Solomon, were defeated by selfishness, lust and greed. 

Now, Ezekiel, a prophet born in Jerusalem and living in exile in Babylon, was addressing people who no longer found comfort or security in kings and monarchies.

Against Israel’s painful history, the prophet sets God’s words of promise to shepherd and lead God’s people. Instead of judgment or accusation, these are words of comfort, meant to encourage and assure God’s people, and to renew the care of the people by their leaders.

Promising to search and seek out the sheep of his fold, God reminds us that God watches for each one of us and knows us by name. God sees each one of us as we are, and knows when we are weighed down by grief and pain, trapped by fear or weakened by disease.

God is a caregiver who binds up our wounds, wipes away our tears, provides balm for our pain and soothes our hurt.

God is a protector who rescues us, delivering us from danger, providing safety and security, and sheltering us from harm.

And God gathers us together. Sure, there is strength in numbers, but, more importantly, God created us for relationship and flock life is communal. Our life together is enriched by our shared gifts and presence.

And finally, God feeds us. God tends to our basic needs, but God also feeds us spiritually, by the Word of God that is the bread of life, and, in Holy Communion, we are fed and nourished as well, strengthened to face the world.

Some twenty-five hundred years after Ezekiel prophesied, these promises and provisions that God offered to the people of Israel remain pertinent to us.

On this day, especially, we recognize all the ways that Christ prevails as our King, and our Lord and Savior. Like the communities of ancient Israel, we are dependent on the sustenance and leadership that God provides. Against the divisive rhetoric of the world, we remember that Christ has a unique authority over us that contrasts with other secular or civic authorities. And against the temptation to separate and accuse each other, we are drawn together as one people, led by our God and King.

Let us pray…

Holy God and King,

We thank you for your mercy and your promises to us.

Remind us of your provision and help us trust in your care.

Gather your people and unite us under your sovereign reign,

that the Church would be a living witness to your love,

instead of a place where conflict and hurt fester.

We pray all this in the name of your Son Jesus Christ.

Amen.

---

[i] Gail Ramshaw. Treasures Old and New: Images in the Lectionary (p. 366). Kindle Edition.

24th Sunday after Pentecost

Hearing the parable in this morning’s gospel, it’s helpful to know a little more about life in the first century. First, a talent wasn’t a special ability or skill, and calling it a “valuable coin” is a dramatic understatement; a talent was equivalent to more than fifteen years of wages for an average worker.  Imagine one coin worth several hundred thousand, or even a half million dollars today. It was a fortune! And, second, as much as the idea of burying one’s treasure in the ground may make us laugh today, at that time, it was considered a safe and prudent action to guard against robbers and thieves. So, the third servant who had been entrusted with this small fortune was not called wicked or lazy because he wasn’t a smart investor.

But then, “Why was he banished to outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth?”

In his telling of this parable, Matthew’s dialog draws our attention to this third servant, and we hear how he made different assumptions about the master, acted differently and was judged differently than the others.

First, he believed the master was both harsh and selfish; and then, because of what he believed about the character of the master, the servant made different choices about completing the work that had been entrusted to him. Motivated by fear of the master, his response was restrained, reserved and safe; he did only what would secure a good result, and, he hoped, protect him from the wrath of the master.

The others, whose obedience was shaped by a different understanding of the master, took greater risks and were welcomed “into the joy of the master.” (v. 21, 23) Identity and obedience are two dimensions of discipleship that begin with understanding who the master – for us as Christians, God – is, and the parable shows us how wrong things can go when we don’t know God’s true character.

What thrusts us into outer darkness is not knowing God. Knowing God means being in relationship with God, remembering God’s promises for us and receiving the grace that God gives us freely and abundantly.

God offers freedom in discipleship, in following Jesus, but, too often, fear shackles us and shapes our obedience.

Fear infects the world around us. A glance at headlines reveal a bloodless coup in Zimbabwe, tensions with North Korea and Russia and a blatant disregard for the personhood of women and girls. And those are just the headlines. Fear is an everyday reality for hurricane-stricken communities living without access to power or clean water; parents who have lost children and children whose parents are facing deportation. Naturally, we react and grasp at certainty and safety.

Catholic priest Henri Nouwen describes three lies around which we naturally center ourselves:

·     I am what I do.

·     I am what I have.

·     I am what others think of me or say that I am.

Fear feeds these lies, keeping us captive to them and prompting us to rely on ourselves – our efforts and abilities, our material security or financial acuity, or our reputations and accolades – instead of trusting in who God is,

what God has provided for us and entrusted to us,

and who God says we are.

Fear is what keeps us from knowing God and leaves us in darkness. But into this outer darkness where the world would have us believe hope cannot exist; into this void where atheists and skeptics would proclaim God is dead, faith speaks.

The Scriptures for this day remind us that God is steadfast and “our refuge from one generation to another” and God “destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation.” (Psalm 90: 1; 1 Thess. 5:9) This is the character of the master that we know, God who loves us and forgives us.

Our salvation is not in what we do, but in what God has already done for us, in the person of Jesus. And now, God entrusts us, not with a valuable coin, but with the Kingdom, calling us to bear witness to God’s love and mercy, and not with a spirit of slavery that falls into fear, but one of adoption, remembering we have been made God’s sons and daughters.

We find our freedom in the faith we’ve been given. One of our early Church Fathers St. Augustine (Au-gus′-tin) is remembered for writing, “Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.” Our freedom as Christians calls us to act. Not to play it safe. To risk. To call a thing what it is.

The list of people who have been “othered” in history is long and too often the church has stayed quiet.

When we hear talk that demeans another human being and says they are “less than” because of their identity, our faith empowers us to speak out.

When we see power abused and victims shamed, our faith empowers us to speak out.

When we see children and teenagers endangered, our faith empowers us to speak out.

When we see privilege go unchallenged and those who do not have it are silenced or ignored, our faith empowers us to speak out.

Jesus, crucified and risen, knows the risks God calls us to take as disciples, and when the risky hard work is completed, God invites us into the joy of the master that is found in increasing the Kingdom of God here on earth, and in sharing the treasure of good news that God loves us and forgives us.

Let us pray…

Holy God,

Thank you for loving us and forgiving us and for entrusting the work of Your Kingdom to us.

Help us remember your grace and mercy to us, and reject lies and fear.

Empower us to act on our faith, following Jesus and talking risks for the sake of the world.

Amen.