Sunday, December 29, 2024

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.

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

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.


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

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


Sunday, December 22, 2024

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.

Sunday, December 1, 2024

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 20th 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.


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

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


Sunday, November 24, 2024

Christ the King (Cristo El Rey)

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

Juan 18:33-37

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.

El evangelio de hoy es parte del relato de Juan sobre el juicio de Jesús ante el gobernador romano de Judea, Poncio Pilato. Jesús ha sido arrestado y ahora se encuentra ante Pilato, quien lo está interrogando. Insatisfecho con las respuestas que recibió cuando preguntó a los líderes judíos por qué lo llevaban ante él, Pilato le pregunta a Jesús:

“¿Qué has hecho?”

Al observar la conmoción de su arresto, muchos espectadores probablemente tuvieron la misma pregunta.

¿Qué había hecho Jesús para que Judas lo traicionara y trajera un destacamento de soldados para arrestarlo en el jardín?

¿Qué había hecho para que Simón Pedro lo negara mientras estaba con otros alrededor de una fogata, calentándose en la  noche fria?

¿Qué había hecho para que los sumos sacerdotes, la aristocracia de Judea, lo entregaran al gobernador romano?

Pilato era un político sofisticado, pero no podía entender qué había hecho Jesús para ser tan despreciado

Por supuesto, sabemos lo que Pilato no sabía.

El evangelio de Juan nos dice que la ira de los sumos sacerdotes y fariseos había estado latentes durante mucho tiempo. Su resentimiento hacia Jesús creció a medida que viajaba por Judea, enseñando y sanando, y luego resucitó a Lázaro (Juan 11) y como un cerillo que se enciende para secarse, su ira se encendió y comenzaron a planear su caída.

Cuando le preguntó a Jesús: "¿Qué has hecho?", el gobernador esperaba una respuesta clara.

Pero Jesús no responde a su pregunta. En lugar de decir lo que había hecho, Jesús le dice a Pilato quién es. Describe el reino de Dios y cómo él es el rey de ese reino, contrastando el poder terrenal y humano con el poder encarnado en Jesús.

En este Domingo de Cristo Rey, se nos pide que recordemos que un reino se define por su rey y que su pueblo debe llevar la imagen del rey.

Hace casi cien años, el Papa Pío onceavo estableció en Roma el Domingo de Cristo Rey. Celebrado el último domingo del año eclesiástico, el Papa lo estableció en un momento en que surgían dictaduras no cristianas en Europa, como las del fascismo y el comunismo. Imitando a los antiguos emperadores romanos que habían tomado el título de Mesías y actuaban como dioses divinos sobre sus reinos, esos dictadores intentaron afirmar su autoridad sobre la Iglesia y su pueblo.

El Papa Pío vinculó la creciente negación de Cristo como rey con el ascendimiento del secularismo. Al escribir que a Cristo nuestro Señor se le ha dado todo el poder en el cielo y en la tierra y, por lo tanto, nada está exento de su imperio, el Papa recordó a los cristianos que Cristo, no los gobernantes terrenales, debe reinar en nuestras mentes, en nuestras voluntades, en nuestros corazones y en nuestros cuerpos (párrafo 33, Quas Primas).

Cada año, cuando proclamamos a Cristo como Rey, debemos hacernos la misma pregunta que Pilato le hizo a Jesús:

“¿Qué has hecho?

¿Cómo has tu – como hemos nosotros  llevado la imagen de nuestro Rey, la plenitud de Dios conocida en Jesús?

En Juan 12, Jesús les dice a sus discípulos:

25 El que ama su vida la perdera, y el que aborrece su vida en este mundo la conservará para la vida eterna. 26 El que me sirve, me debe de seguir, ….

¿Qué has hecho para servir a los que conoces?

En Juan 13, Jesús nos da a todos un mandamiento nuevo, diciéndonos:

34Un mandamiento nuevo os doy: que os améis unos a otros. Como yo os he amado, que también os améis unos a otros. 35En esto conocerán todos que sois mis discípulos, si os amáis unos a otros.

¿Qué has hecho para demostrar el amor abnegado que Jesús mostró a las personas que conoció?

Y en Juan 14, Jesús les dice a sus discípulos:

21El que tiene mis mandamientos y los guarda, ése es el que me ama; y el que me ama será amado por mi Padre, y yo lo amaré y me revelaré a él.

¿Qué has hecho para guardar los mandamientos de Dios, para estar en relación con Dios y con los demás de maneras que den vida, sean verdaderas y compasivas?

En este Domingo de Cristo Rey, se nos pide que recordemos que nuestro primer llamado es vivir como ciudadanos del reino de Dios y llevar el amor de Dios al mundo.

Oremos.

Dios Santo,

Gracias por tu Hijo Jesús, quien nos muestra la plenitud de tu amor y misericordia y nos otorga la ciudadanía en tu reino.

Muéstranos cómo seguirlo y servir a los demás a medida que nos acercamos a ti. Guíanos por tu Espíritu Santo.

Oramos en el nombre de tu Hijo, nuestro Salvador y Señor, Jesucristo. 

Amén.


John 18:33-37

The gospel for today is part of John’s account of Jesus’ trial before the Roman governor of Judea, Pontius Pilate. Jesus has been arrested and now stands before Pilate, who is questioning him. Unsatisfied with the answers that were given to him when he asked the Jewish leaders why they were bringing Jesus to him, Pilate asks Jesus,

“What have you done?”

Watching the commotion of his arrest, many onlookers probably had the same question.

What had Jesus done so that Judas betrayed him and brought a detachment of soldiers to arrest him in the garden?

What had he done so that Simon Peter denied him as he stood with others around a fire, warming himself in the cold night?

What had he done so that the high priests, the aristocracy of Judea, turned him over to the Roman governor?

Pilate was a sophisticated politician, but he couldn’t understand what Jesus had done to be so despised.

Of course, we know what Pilate didn’t.

John’s gospel tells us that the anger of the chief priests and Pharisees had been smoldering for a long time. Their resentment of Jesus built as he traveled throughout Judea, teaching and healing, and then he raised Lazarus (John 11) and like a match touched to dry kindling, their rage flared, and they began to plan his downfall.

When he asked Jesus, “What have you done?” the governor was hoping for a clear answer.

But Jesus doesn’t answer his question. Instead of saying what he had done, Jesus tells Pilate who he is. He describes God’s kingdom and how he is the king of that kingdom, contrasting earthly, human power with the power embodied in Jesus.

On this Christ the King Sunday, we are asked to remember that a kingdom is defined by its king and its people are meant to bear the image of the king.

Almost one hundred years ago, Pope Pius the 11th in Rome established Christ the King Sunday. Celebrated on the last Sunday of the church year, the Pope established it at a time when non-Christian dictatorships in Europe, like those of fascism and communism, were rising. Mimicking the ancient Roman emperors who had taken the title Messiah and acted as divine gods over their kingdoms, those dictators attempted to assert their authority over the Church and its people. Pope Pius connected the increasing denial of Christ as king to the rise of secularism. Writing that Christ our Lord is given all power in heaven and on earth and therefore, nothing is exempt from his empire, the pope reminded Christians that Christ, not earthly rulers, must reign in our minds, in our wills, in our hearts and in our bodies (paragraph 33, Quas Primas).

Every year, when we proclaim Christ is King, we must ask ourselves the same question Pilate asked Jesus:

“What have you done?

How have you- how have we - born the image of our King, the fullness of God known in Jesus?

In John 12, Jesus tells his disciples,

25 Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 Whoever serves me must follow me, ….

What have you done to be of service to those who you know?

In John 13, Jesus gives us all a new commandment, telling us,

34I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’

What have you done to show the self-giving love that Jesus showed to the people he met?

And in John 14, Jesus tells his disciples,

21 They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me, and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.”

What have you done to keep God’s commandments – to be in relationship with God and with each other in ways that are life-giving and true and compassionate?

On this Christ the King Sunday, we are asked to remember our first calling is to live as citizens of God’s kingdom and to bear God’s love in the world.

Let us pray.

Holy God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who shows us the fullness of your love and mercy and gives us citizenship in Your kingdom.

Show us how to follow him and serve others as we draw near to You. Guide us by your Holy Spirit.

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

Amen.

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Lectionary 33B

Mark 13:1-8

Today, we are nearing the end of our lectionary year centered in Mark’s gospel, and it’s the last Sunday we’ll hear from Mark, before we celebrate the Reign of Christ next Sunday and begin Advent after Thanksgiving.

When Mark wrote his gospel, his audience would have been accustomed to hearing stories told about Jesus and his ministry. But Mark’s Gospel is the first written account we have. We believe it was written in response to changes he witnessed.

We don’t know for certain what changed – it appears from things Mark says in this chapter that there were false teachers claiming to come in Jesus’ name but leading believers down wrong paths, and there were believers being persecuted and arrested, silencing their witness and testimony. Whatever was happening, now it was important to have a reliable written record of the “good news of Jesus Christ” (1:1).

Today we get to eavesdrop on Jesus. He has moved away from the crowd and is in what Mark describes as a private conversation. You know what this looks like. Four of his disciples pulled him aside to ask him what he meant when he told the others that the great buildings surrounding them would be destroyed.

But, when Peter, James, John and Andrew ask Jesus to tell them, “…when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” (v. 4) Jesus tells them, there isn’t a clear sign. There will be betrayal. There will be alarming rumors. There will be disasters.

But the obvious, unambiguous sign they are looking for doesn’t exist.

The only assurance Jesus gives them is that the turmoil will not last forever.

We don’t know what turmoil Jesus is referring to. He may have been recalling earthquakes and famines in the same timeframe as we think of the Dust Bowl or the Great Depression. Or wars from decades earlier – in our context, it would be like talking about the Korean conflict today - or any number of more immediate, local disputes put down by Roman authorities. In any case, he was referring to historical events that shape our narrative. It’s all the stories that we carry around with us that have shaped how we look at the world.

And then Jesus says,

“This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” (v. 8)

And there is The Good News. Birth pangs hurt, but they are necessary for new life to enter the world. And “God is always about the business of making new futures possible.”[i]

Last Saturday, our younger child, Emerson, took the GRE. Emerson is applying to graduate school and the test is one of the requirements. The scores for two of the three parts were available immediately, but we’re all waiting for the third part to be graded.

Waiting is hard.

You can guess what choices you may have, but everything is one giant question mark. There are so many unknowns. And it can be excruciating if you fall into the trap of wondering, “What if…”

Like Peter, James, John and Andrew, we want to know what the future holds. We want certainty, assurance and clear direction. It makes us anxious to realize how little we know and how little we control.

What Jesus reminds the disciples, and us, is that faith calls us to trust God. We can have confidence that the future will be what God ordains for us. As Jesus teaches in his Sermon on the Mount, none of us can add even a single hour to our lives by worrying. (Mt. 6:27)

What we can be certain of is God’s love for each one of us.

We may not have signs of what will come next, but the signs of God’s love for us are all around us. They are in the prayers that are said when we are sick, grieving or scared. They are in the time given to mentor a student or spend time with one as a study buddy. They are in the gifts of skills and knowledge shared in ministries every day in our congregation – people who know how to read financial statements and help us be good stewards of financial gifts; people whose gifts of hospitality welcome others and foster a place of belonging; people who enliven our music and worship; and people who help us stay connected with our community partners and know how we can best help our neighbors.

All of these signs point to a God-given future, one we can anticipate with unwavering faith and hope.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Help us always to follow Jesus

and not be led astray by imposters or false promises.

Draw us near to You and

open our eyes to the signs of Your love that surround us.

Show us how to share the Good News of Your Love through our words and actions.

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

Amen.


[i] Amanda Brobst-Renaud. “Commentary on Mark 13:1-8”. Working Preacher. Luther Seminary.

Sunday, November 10, 2024

Lectionary 32B

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

Marcos 12:38-44

Oremos…Que las palabras de mi boca y la meditación de nuestro corazón sean gratas delante de ti, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

“No tengas temor”. (1 Reyes 17:13)

Estas palabras se repiten a lo largo de las Escrituras. Las escuchamos por primera vez cuando el Señor le habla a Abram (Génesis 15:1) y son repetidas, una y otra vez, por Dios y los enviados de Dios. La última vez es cuando Juan de Patmos relata haberlas oído dichas por “uno como el Hijo del Hombre” en Apocalipsis. (Apocalipsis 1:17)

Y una y otra vez, son seguidas por la promesa de que Dios actuará, que el reino de Dios vendrá, que Dios no ha olvidado las promesas de Dios a su pueblo.

Hoy escuchamos al profeta Elías decir estas palabras.

Elías había estado viviendo de la comida que le traían los cuervos y del agua de un wadi, o arroyo, pero el agua se había secado. Una sequía hizo que el agua y la comida escasearan.

Pero Dios envía al profeta a una viuda en Sarepta, un pueblo fuera de Israel, prometiéndole que lo alimentará. Cuando Elías se encuentra con la mujer, ella le dice que ella y su hijo solo tienen un poco de harina y aceite, y se están preparando para comer lo que tienen y luego esperar a morir.

En el mundo antiguo, la gente creía que el rey podía controlar la lluvia, por lo que una sequía era una señal del fracaso del rey. El rey también era responsable del bienestar de las viudas y los huérfanos, por lo que cuando la viuda le dice a Elías que ella y su hijo se están muriendo de hambre, es otra señal del fracaso del rey.

Pero Elías sabe que su confianza no está en los líderes del mundo, sino en Dios, y Dios lo ha enviado a la viuda. Confía en la provisión de Dios para él. Su confianza surge de su obediencia a seguir la dirección de Dios. Su obediencia surge de su confianza en la fidelidad de Dios a lo largo de las generaciones hacia el pueblo de Dios. Surge de saber que pertenece a Dios.

Entonces le dice: “No tengas temor”.

Y la jarra de comida no se agota, ni falta el aceite , y la viuda, su hijo y Elías comen muchos días más.

En el evangelio nos encontramos con otra viuda. No está en casa, sino en público, donando al tesoro. El tesoro era un lugar en un patio fuera del templo donde la gente podía hacer ofrendas voluntarias para apoyar el templo, como el plato de ofrendas que tenemos sobre la mesa aquí.

Jesús está en los atrios del templo, enseñando a una gran multitud y observando a la gente depositar sus ofrendas en el tesoro.

Y mientras observa, advierte a su audiencia contra los líderes religiosos que son como actores que desempeñan un papel. Saben qué decir y cómo vestirse, pero sus palabras y acciones son vacías. Dan desde un lugar de comodidad y tranquilidad, sin sacrificar nada ni arriesgar nada.

Cuando Jesús ve a una viuda depositar dos pequeñas monedas de cobre, les dice a sus discípulos que “[ella] ha depositado más que todos [los demás]”.

Jesús dice que el regalo de la viuda era un regalo sacrificial, no, como los regalos que muchos de nosotros hacemos, dando de lo que sabemos que podemos prescindir, sino dando de lo que Dios nos ha dado primero, confiando en la providencia de Dios para ella.

Estos personajes no nos dan un modelo fácil de seguir.

Elías y las dos viudas confían en la providencia de Dios. Su confianza surge de su obediencia a seguir la dirección de Dios. Su obediencia surge de la confianza en la fidelidad de Dios a través de las generaciones hacia el pueblo de Dios. Proviene de saber que pertenecemos a Dios.

Por supuesto, el mundo moderno tiene un mensaje diferente. Nos dice que somos responsables de asegurar nuestro futuro a través de nuestros propios esfuerzos. Almacenar, ahorrar y protegernos de nuestros enemigos. Mirar hacia dentro y poner nuestra confianza en los líderes que vemos en la plaza pública. El mundo nos pide que le demos a los humanos autoridad sobre nuestras vidas y nos enseña a ver el mundo a través del lente de la escasez y el miedo.

Pero Dios nos enseña que en Cristo no recibimos “un espíritu de esclavitud para volver al temor, sino… un espíritu de adopción”. El Espíritu da testimonio de que somos hijos de Dios. (Romanos 8:15-16)

Somos a quienes Jesús se dirige cuando dice: “32 No tengan miedo, manada pequeña, porque a su Padre le ha placido darles el reino”.

La Palabra de Dios nos invita a tener una visión diferente del mundo, donde nos sometamos a Dios y veamos el mundo como Dios lo ve, a través del lente de la abundancia y la obediencia.

La escasez no es una realidad del Reino; es una construcción humana que Elías rechaza y que la viuda en el tesoro del templo niega. En cambio, Dios nos promete la plenitud de la vida (Juan 10:10). Sus historias nos recuerdan que el “poder vivificante de Dios puede transformar situaciones de derrota, desesperación y muerte”.i

“El Reino -o Reinado- de Dios es una realidad que está más allá de nuestra percepción…”ii Y en lugar de tratar de controlarlo, diseñarlo o dominarlo, Dios nos llama a caminar en sumisión, humildad y obediencia, mientras esperamos su realización, en el tiempo de Dios, no en el nuestro.

Oremos…

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Te damos gracias por nuestro pan de cada día,

por lo que necesitamos para vivir en la plenitud de la vida.

Ayúdanos a rechazar las cosas que no dan vida,

las cosas que nos separan de ti.

Enséñanos a confiar en tu provisión y en la vida que nos das.

Que tu Espíritu Santo nos guíe a dar generosamente de todo lo que tenemos.

Envíanos a compartir tu amor con todas las personas que conozcamos.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.



[i] Walter Brueggemann. Smith & Helwys Bible Commentary on First and Second Kings. 217.

[ii] Mike Breen. Covenant and Kingdom: The DNA of the Bible. 3DM. Kindle Edition.



 

Mark 12:38-44

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.

“Do not be afraid.”

These words are repeated throughout Scripture. We first hear them when the Lord speaks to Abram (Genesis 15:1) and they are repeated, again and again, by God and those sent by God. The last occurrence is when John of Patmos recounts hearing them spoken by “one like the Son of Man” in Revelation. (Revelation 1:17)

And time after time, they are followed by the promise that God will act, that God’s kingdom will come, that God has not forgotten God’s promises to God’s people.

Today we hear the prophet Elijah speak these words.

Elijah had been living on the food that ravens brought him and the water of a wadi, or stream, but the water had dried up. A drought made water and food scarce.

But God sends the prophet to a widow in Zarephath, a town outside Israel, promising that she will feed him. When Elijah meets the woman, she tells him that she and her son only have a little meal and oil, and they are preparing to eat what they have and then wait to die.

In the ancient world, people believed that the king could control the rain, so a drought was a sign of the king’s failure. The king also had responsibility for the welfare of widows and orphans, so when the widow tells Elijah that she and her son are starving, it is another sign of the king’s failure.

But Elijah knows that his trust is not in the leaders of the world, but in God, and God has sent him to the widow. He trusts in God’s provision for him. His trust comes out of his obedience to follow God’s direction. His obedience comes from his confidence in God’s faithfulness throughout generations to God’s people. It comes from knowing that he belongs to God.

So, he tells her, “Do not be afraid.”

And the jar of meal does not get emptied, and the oil does not fail, and the widow, her son and Elijah eat for many more days.

In the gospel we meet another widow. She isn’t at home, but in public, donating to the treasury. The treasury was a place in a courtyard outside the temple where people could make freewill offerings to support the temple, like the offering plate we have on the table here.

Jesus is in the temple courts, teaching a large crowd, and watching people put their offerings in the treasury.

And as he watches, he warns his audience against the religious leaders who are like performers playing a role. They know what to say and how to dress, but their words and actions are empty. They give from a place of comfort and ease, not sacrificing anything, or risking anything.

When Jesus sees a widow put in two small copper coins, he tells his disciples that “[she] has put in more than all those [others].”

Jesus says that because the widow’s gift was a sacrificial gift, not, as many of us do, giving from what we know we can spare, but giving from what God has first given us, trusting in God’s providence for her.

These characters don’t give us an easy model to follow.

Elijah and both widows trust in God’s providence. Their trust comes out of their obedience to follow God’s direction. Their obedience comes out of confidence in God’s faithfulness throughout generations to God’s people. It comes from knowing that we belong to God.

Of course, the modern world has a different message. It tells us that we are responsible for securing our future through our own efforts. Stockpile, save and protect ourselves against our enemies. Turn inward and put our trust in the leaders whom we see in the public square. The world asks us to give humans authority over our lives and teaches us to see the world through the lens of scarcity and fear.

But God teaches us that in Christ, we do not receive “a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but … a spirit of adoption.” The Spirit bears witness that we are children of God. (Romans 8:15-16)

We are the ones that Jesus addresses when he says, “32 ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

The Word of God invites us to have a different vision of the world, where we submit to God and see the world as God sees it, through the lens of abundance and obedience.

Scarcity is not a Kingdom reality; it is human construction that Elijah rejects and that the widow at the temple treasury denies. Instead, God promises us the fullness of life (John 10:10). Their stories remind us that God’s “life-giving power can transform situations of defeat, despair, and death.”[i]

“The Kingdom - or Kingship - of God is a reality just beyond our perception….”[ii] And instead of trying to control it, engineer it or dominate it, God calls us to walk in submission, humility and obedience, while we wait for its realization, in God’s own timing, not our own.

Let us pray…

Good and Gracious God,

We give you thanks for our daily bread,

for what we need to live in the fullness of life.

Help us reject the things that are not life-giving,

the things that separate us from you.

Teach us to trust in Your provision and the life you give us.

May your Holy Spirit lead us to give generously of all we have.

Send us out to share Your love with everyone we meet.
We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.



[i] Walter Brueggemann. Smith & Helwys Bible Commentary on First and Second Kings. 217.

[ii] Mike Breen. Covenant and Kingdom: The DNA of the Bible. 3DM. Kindle Edition.