Christmas 1C

Luke 2:41-52

When I was growing up, my father used to tell the story of my birth. Theylived in Newport, Rhode Island where he was stationed, and he drove a Triumph convertible. And to hear him tell it, when my mom thought she was going into labor, he drove her over the cobblestone streets of Newport, bumpity-bumpity-bump. It was a false alarm, so they went back home, bumpity bumpity bump. And then when the real labor began, they went out again, bumpity bumpity bump over the cobblestones to the Naval Hospital where I was born.

It is a story that he carried with him in his heart and shared with me, delighting in bouncing me in his lap and remembering all the details of sounds and motions of the day.

In his Christmas story, Luke says Mary treasured all the things that shepherds told her and Joseph about their newborn son and pondered them in her heart. (2:19) And it’s easy to imagine her keeping a treasury of stories from Jesus’ birth and childhood.

But the Gospels don’t share those stories with us. The next story we have is the one we hear today, of Jesus as a boy traveling with his family to Jerusalem, becoming lost and then being discovered in the temple, where he is asking questions and conversing with the teachers there. Later Luke says Mary treasured all “these things” in her heart, too. (2:51)

Mary first held space in her heart for the newborn Jesus, whom the angel had announced and called the Son of God. (1:35) And she held space in her heart for the infant who was then called Messiah and Lord. (2:11) And now she holds space for this boy, whom she and Joseph have raised and taught the Jewish tradition and faith.

Deuteronomy commands parents to write the words of God, the Law of God, onto the hearts of our children, to talk about them at home and when we are traveling, and to keep them in our sight at all times. (Deut. 6:4-9) So I imagine God’s Law is woven through these spaces in her heart, intertwined with the love she holds for Jesus.

I wonder if we get to hear this story today, on this first Sunday after Christmas, because we have been given a treasury, like Mary, to hold: a place where we can keep all God’s promises for us, alongside God’s commandments for us.

A place where we can look at Jesus and see him, sometimes as the newborn full of promise and embodying God’s boundless love for us;

sometimes as the compassionate teacher and the one who shows us what it means to be a servant;

other times as the critic of powers and principalities when they hurt our neighbors and draw us away from God;

and always as the One in whom we know the promise of resurrection and new life.

Having been given this gift of knowing Jesus, both as the newborn King and as our Savior, I wonder what it means for us to “keep Christmas” not only through the twelve days, but always?

Twentieth century poet and Presbyterian pastor Henry van Dyke wrote a poem called “Keeping Christmas” where he challenges all of us to be less self-centered and selfish, and to “to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings”, seeding happiness and shining light into the world.

But “keeping Christmas” isn’t simply rose-colored sentiment. It’s hard work. When Mary and Joseph find Jesus in the temple, he isn’t goofing off or playing with other children, he is in God’s house, tending to the things of God.

Keeping Christmas means tending to the things of God, all year long.

Will we continue to read and study and write God’s Word on our hearts?

Will we feed our neighbors the other 364 days a year?

Can we clothe children and provide school supplies in January as well as September?

How can we help shield our unhoused neighbors from the summer sun as well as the winter cold?

How do we care for the lonely and the isolated the rest of the year?

“Keeping Christmas” means sharing this treasury of all we know about God and God’s love for us all year long so that others will know the boundless love of God too.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus, born to us a Savior and Lord.

Help us treasure all you are, all you promise,

and to continue to learn and grow in wisdom and faith.

Help us keep Christmas today and always.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

Christmas Day

Luke 8-20

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our LORD, Jesus Christ.

I keep a lot of our family history and sometimes as I have looked back through old records, I’ve found birth announcements. Often, they looked like postcards printed with the parents’ names, the baby’s weight and length, and the time of day, day of the week and date when the birth occurred. Today digital birth announcements with photographs of the newborn are shared on social media, but they once were printed and mailed and even printed in newspapers.

Our gospel today is Jesus’ birth announcement.

But instead of being splashed on the front page of the newspaper, prompting a banner headline on a website or sounding a notification from an app, this announcement is made in the middle of the night.

And the angel who made the announcement wasn’t in a royal courtyard but in a field.

And his audience wasn’t religious experts and teachers of the Law, but people working the graveyard shift.

From the very beginning nothing about Jesus is what we expect when a royal King is born.

We are meant to be, like the shepherds, surprised about the Christ child born this day.

Unlike the births of emperors and kings before him, Jesus brings a new promise, the promise of peace on earth to all people. It is good news for the whole world because salvation is for everyone, not only for those who already hold power.

Our Lord and Savior, Emmanuel, God with us, brings grace upon grace into the world for us all.

But while we glory in the birth of the baby Jesus in Bethlehem, as Nathan Mitchell, Professor Emeritus at Notre Dame wrote, “Christmas does not ask us to pretend we were back in Bethlehem, kneeling before a crib; it asks us to recognize that the wood of the crib became the wood of the cross.”[i]

As we celebrated the Christmas story yesterday morning, some of the children saw a newborn in his father’s arms and exclaimed, “He should be the baby Jesus!” It’s a sweet sentiment, except the baby who is born this day to us is the man whom we will crucify on Good Friday.

William Dix’s Christmas carol “What Child is This” puts words to the adoration of the shepherds but reminds us “Nails, spear shall pierce him through, The cross be borne for me, for you.”[ii]

Jesus is the incarnation of God’s love for us, born into the world with the certainty that he will suffer and die for our sin and brokenness.

Today we join the shepherds in glorifying and praising God for his birth because in Jesus we see God’s boundless love for us.

This Christmas season, may we be led by the bright morning star who is our Lord and Savior, resting in the assurance of what God has done for us all.

Amen.

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[i] A Christmas Sourcebook, edited by Mary Ann Simcoe. Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1984.

[ii] William Chatterton Dix. “What Child is This”, 1865.

Advent 4C

I preached this sermon in the Spanish service; the English translation is below.

Lucas 1:39-45

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazónes sean aceptables delante de ti, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

Una de las razones por las que contamos historias de las Escrituras es para ver dónde se conectan nuestras historias con la historia de Dios y para ver los lugares donde Dios ha estado trabajando en las historias de otros para que podamos reconocer dónde Dios está trabajando también en nuestras propias vidas.

El evangelio de hoy nos invita a una parte de la historia de María. Contada por Lucas, sigue inmediatamente a la anunciación cuando el ángel Gabriel se le apareció a María y le dijo que daría a luz al hijo de Dios y ella respondió diciendo:

“Aquí estoy, la sierva del Señor; hágase en mí según tu palabra” (Lucas 1:38 NVI). 

En el evangelio de hoy, María ha viajado a la casa de su pariente mayor Elizabeth.

Su encuentro es alegre y el Espíritu Santo le revela a Elizabeth la identidad del bebé que María está esperando. Elizabeth clama con una bendición para María y María estalla en una canción.

Antes de hablar más sobre su canción, el Magnificante, me pregunto sobre la historia de María hasta este punto.

Algunos de nuestros himnos y villancicos describen a María como “humilde y dulce” y se la pinta en los retratos renacentistas de la Virgen y el Niño como serena y pacífica, contemplando al niño en sus brazos. La música y las imágenes reflejan su aceptación pacífica y humilde de su lugar en esta historia que escuchamos en su respuesta al ángel.

En otras partes, cuando se cuenta su historia, el enfoque se centra en lo afortunada que fue de que José permaneciera con ella, enfatizando la vergüenza que puede recaer sobre una madre soltera.

Es posible que la vergüenza la haya llevado a viajar a la casa de su pariente y aún más probable que, a pesar de su respuesta confiada a Gabriel, María estuviera llena de incertidumbre e incluso miedo. Se habría preguntado cómo José o sus padres entenderían y temio  castigo e incluso ser apedreada por una acusación de adulterio.

Su historia nos enseña que la fe tiene espacio tanto para la confianza en Dios como para la aprensión ante lo desconocido.

Pero me pregunto, ¿qué otras historias podríamos imaginar para María?

María y Elizabeth comparten con entusiasmo la noticia de su embarazo y su asombro por lo que Dios ha prometido. No hay rastro de consternación ni inter-cambio de cumplidos super-ficiales, sino una alegría profunda y genuina. María tiene esperanza y está esperando, confía en lo que Dios ya ha hecho. Su canción hace eco a la de Hanah y los salmistas, recurriendo a la tradición y las Escrituras que habrían estado escritas en su corazón.

Al escuchar las palabras de su hermosa canción de resistencia y redención, un colega imaginó a María como “joven, luchadora y hambrienta”, como Hamilton en la canción “Mi oportunidad” del musical del mismo nombre. Aunque era solo una joven de entre doce y dieciseis años, María parecía ver con claridad y hablar con sabiduría.

Nombró las formas en que Dios ya ha cuidado de los humildes, hambrientos y pobres, recordando los actos poderosos de Dios conocidos en las Escrituras.

María entendió que Dios estaba cumpliendo las promesas de Dios a su pueblo en el niño que llevaba en su vientre. María creía que la misericordia y la salvación de Dios estaban encarnadas, hechas carne, en su hijo.

Por supuesto, la historia habría resultado muy diferente si ella hubiera dicho “No” cuando Gabriel le habló. Dios nos diseña con libre albedrío; seguramente, María podría haber huido y haberse escondido de los mensajeros de Dios. Pero no lo hizo.

Ella coopera con Dios, participando en lo que Dios le pide que haga, y nos da este cántico, donde declara lo que sabe, hablando de las acciones de Dios en el pasado y reclamando la promesa de Dios para el futuro.

Al proclamar “mi alma engrandece al Señor y mi espíritu se regocija en Dios mi Salvador”, María dirige nuestra atención a Dios y a las acciones de Dios por nosotros.

En Jesús, la salvación de Dios ya está realizada: nada nos separa del amor de Dios que nos reconcilia con Dios mismo y nos devuelve la vida. Cuando algunas partes de nuestra historia nos impiden ver por nosotros mismos cuán profundamente nos ama Dios, María nos invita a su historia y nos recuerda que lo inesperado siempre está cerca.

Oremos…

Dios Santo,

Gracias por la historia de María, la madre de nuestro Señor Jesús, para que podamos ser testigos de la profundidad de tu amor por nosotros.

Tu historia es una que siempre nos invita a ser nosotros mismos.

Danos curiosidad por la historia de cada persona para que seamos testigos de tu gracia y tus dones en ellos. Ayúdanos a encontrar conexiones con Tu historia para que podamos reconocer dónde estás activo en nuestras vidas incluso ahora. Oramos en el nombre de Jesús. Amén.

Luke 1:39-45

One reason we tell stories from Scripture is to see where our stories connect to God’s story and to see the places where God has been at work in the stories of others so that we might recognize where God is at work in our own lives, too.

Today’s gospel invites us into one part of Mary’s story. Told by Luke, it immediately follows the annunciation when the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her she would bear the son of God and she responded by saying,

“Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38 NRS)

In today’s gospel, Mary has traveled to her older relative Elizabeth’s home. Their meeting is joyful and the Holy Spirit reveals to Elizabeth the identity of the baby whom Mary is carrying. Elizabeth cries out with a blessing for Mary and Mary bursts into song.

Before I talk more about her song, the Magnificat, I wonder about Mary’s story up to this point.

Some of our hymns and carols describe Mary as ‘meek and mild’ and she is painted in Renaissance portraits of the Madonna and Child as serene and peaceful, gazing at the child cradled in her arms. The music and images reflect her peaceful and humble acceptance of her place in this story that we hear in her response to the angel.

Elsewhere when her story is told, the focus is on how fortunate she was that Joseph remained with her, emphasizing the shame that can be placed on an unwed mother. It’s possible that shame would have driven her to travel to her relative’s house and even more likely that, despite her confident response to Gabriel, Mary was filled with uncertainty and even fear. She would have wondered how Joseph, or her parents would understand and feared punishment and even stoning for a charge of adultery. Her story teaches us that faith has space for both trust in God and apprehension about the unknown.

But I wonder what other stories we could imagine for Mary?

Mary and Elizabeth exuberantly share the news of their pregnancies and their awe at what God has promised. There’s no hint of dismay or exchange of superficial pleasantries but deeply felt, genuine joy. Mary is hopeful and expectant, trusting what God has already done. Her song echoes that of Hannah and the psalmists, drawing on tradition and Scripture that would have been written on her heart.

Hearing the words of her beautiful song of resistance and redemption, one colleague imagined Mary as “young, scrappy and hungry” like Hamilton in the song “My Shot” in the musical by the same name. While only a young woman between 12 and 16, Mary seemed to see clearly and spoke with wisdom.  She named the ways that God has already cared for the lowly, hungry and poor, recalling God’s mighty acts known in Scripture.

Mary understood that God was fulfilling God’s promises to God’s people in the child she carried. She believed that God’s mercy and salvation were incarnate – made flesh – in her child.

Of course, the story would have turned out very differently if she had said, “No.” when Gabriel spoke to her. God designs us with free will; surely, Mary could have run away and hidden from God’s messengers. But she didn’t.

She cooperates with God, participating in what God asks her to do, and she gives us this song, where she declares what she knows, speaking of God’s actions in the past and claiming God’s promise for the future.

Proclaiming “my soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,” Mary directs our attention to God and God’s actions for us. In Jesus, God’s salvation is already accomplished – nothing separates us from the love of God who reconciles us to God’s self and restores us to life. When parts of our stories make it impossible for us to see for ourselves how deeply God loves us, Mary invites us into her story and reminds us that the unexpected is always at hand.

Let us pray…

Holy God,

Thank you for the story of Mary, the mother of our Lord Jesus that we may witness the depth of your love for us.

Your story is one that forever invites us to be our full selves.

Give us curiosity about each person’s story that we would witness your grace and gifts in them. Help us find connections to Your story so that we can recognize where You are active in our lives even now. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Advent 1C

Luke 21:25-36

Let us pray… May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

A few weeks ago, we heard the disciples questioning Jesus about the fulfillment of the kingdom. They wanted to know when they would see the things he had talked about. They wanted details and specifics, and Jesus told them they would have to wait.

Maybe you remember that I mentioned we were waiting for Emerson’s GRE scores. The scores arrived and all is well, so we were able to move on to something else.

Because there’s always something else, isn’t there? The world always has us on the edge of our seats waiting,

especially this holiday weekend:

Waiting

for the parade to begin,

for the sale to start,

for the countdown to commence.

Our attention is always being drawn to what’s next. So much so that we might miss what is happening right now.

In his gospel, Luke, like Mark before him, talks of signs and we remember that signs always point to God’s action. Luke encourages us to be on guard and alert to what is happening, to what God is doing. The foreboding felt by the people is being fed by their anxiety about the future. It is fear taking over. In response to our collective fear and worry, we are meant to hear Jesus’ promise that “redemption is drawing near”, “the Kingdom of God is near”, and His Word “will not pass away”. (v 28, 31,33)

This is the hope we celebrate in Advent.

In his letter to the Church in Thessalonica, we hear Paul’s own hope realized in the work that the faith community has been doing together.

Sometime after he left them, Paul sent Timothy to check on the church in Thessalonica and now Timothy has returned to Paul and Silas and told them the Christians there are thriving and that their faith is vibrant and strong. In response to this good news, Paul, Silas and Timothy write this letter to the Thessalonian church.

What we hear in today’s reading is the end of a second round of praise and thanksgiving that Paul offers to the church in Thessalonica. He had been so worried that their labors were in vain (1 Thessalonians 3:5) that he was overjoyed upon hearing what Timothy reported. His gratitude leads to thanksgiving.

Paul’s letter invites our own reflection on our community’s faith and witness. Here at Grace, we proclaim that we serve Christ and share God’s love. On this first Sunday in Advent, when we celebrate the beginning of a new church year, we could make a top ten list of all the ways we have served and loved our neighbors and each other well in the last year, and I expect every one of us would have a different list.

Ten things at Grace that brought joy to me this year were that:

We celebrated Día de los Muertos - when we remember our loved ones who have died - with about one hundred people from our congregation, preschool and community.

We cared for the family and friends of thirteen members at Grace who joined the Church Triumphant this year and are counted with all the saints now. And we continue to care for homebound members, with banquet bearers bringing them Holy Communion.

Three of our high school students affirmed their baptisms on Reformation Sunday after three years of study, fellowship and service.

We cared well for our community during Hurricane Helene and continue to help direct funds and assistance as we learn about needs.

We fed hungry neighbors by sponsoring food drives for Interfaith Assistance Ministry, Living Waters Lutheran Church in Cherokee and the Rescue Mission.

Staff, volunteers, young adults and youth traveled together to New Orleans for the ELCA’s National Youth Gathering, delivering thousands of dollars to ELCA World Hunger, and working, playing and worshiping together with tens of thousands of other Lutherans.

We welcomed more than twenty new or returning members to Grace, celebrating their place in our faith community.

We collaborated with St. James Episcopal Church and Trinity Presbyterian Church to host Vacation Bible School on Trinity’s campus and had youth and adult volunteers and children of all ages participating.

Our volunteers worked with dozens of ministry partners in our area to help them meet needs and complete projects during the Annual Servant Saturday in April.

Our preschool teachers and staff cared for more than one hundred thirty children, helping them learn and grow and supporting their families and we offered morning worship for our Grace Preschool families.

This praise isn’t about keeping score, and it isn’t about asking the church to do more or work harder.

Our lives of faith are never meant to become to-do lists. Paul’s praise gives thanks for the ways God has strengthened the Thessalonians’ hearts and names his hope that God will increase their love for one another and the world. (v. 12)

And our recognition for what we’ve done well together is similar; it is a celebration and thanksgiving for what God is doing, in, through and among us.

For us all, it is a recognition that the work is not yet complete.

The world is happy to help us remember that, with a secular litany of gift-giving, party preparations and all there is to do leading up to Christmas, but for us, in the Church, our focus is Christ.

We are called to wait and watch to see what God is doing and to participate with God in bringing about God’s kingdom here on earth. It is difficult work to wait on God, patiently watching, alert and attentive to what God is doing.

It’s much harder to wait than to busy ourselves with distractions or to grasp for control.

Jesuit priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (Taylar day Charrdan) writes about “trusting in the slow work of God” in a prayer called “Patient Trust”, where he writes

We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. We should like to skip the intermediate stages. We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.[i]

A colleague calls this waiting stance “cathedral faith”.

Cathedrals are not built quickly. The great cathedrals of Europe averaged 250-300 years to complete. Here in our country, plans for the National Cathedral in Washington, DC began before the turn of the 20^th century in 1893, and the cornerstone wasn’t laid until 1907. It was 83 years before the “final finial” was set in 1990.[ii] Each architect and planner had to trust the next generation to continue the labor to create what is now one of the largest church buildings in the US and a place where hundreds of thousands of visitors go each year.

Holding “trust in the slow work of God” and having “cathedral faith” are ways of remembering that we are waiting on God’s action in God’s timing and not ours. It is a humbling and hopeful stance to take as we enter into this Advent season, eagerly anticipating Christ’s coming, both as Messiah at Christmas, and in His return.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus.

Help us be attentive to the ways You are fulfilling your promises.

Awaken us and keep us alert for how we can participate in your kingdom.

Strengthen our hearts and give us patience to trust in Your work in, through and among us.

We pray in the name of Jesus, our Savior and Lord.

Amen.

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[i] https://www.ignatianspirituality.com/prayer-of-theilhard-de-chardin/

[ii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_National_Cathedral