Gospel: Mark 1:21-28
1st Reading: Deuteronomy 18:15-20
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 8:1-13
I know you've all been waiting for word from the pulpit about whether it is okay to eat food offered to idols, so I'm prepared to hand down my final word on the subject. All jokes aside, this reading is really about what it means to be in community, and that is that we are going to have disagreements about how to live our faith. On most things, especially regarding food and other matters of taste and opinion, it doesn't really matter to God. What matters is that we show love to our neighbor the best we can. For the Corinthians, that meant not eating food offered to idols, not because God cares, but because our neighbor might misunderstand and be led to worship other gods because of our eating habits and preferences.
I don't know what our modern day equivalent would be, but we do have a lot of strong feelings and associations around food. Take coffee hour—oh here we go! Want to get a lot of feathers ruffled, bring up coffee hour. It's just food people! Or is it?
There are some who have provided us with beautiful, luscious coffee hour refreshments. This is a ministry they provide. They reason, this keeps people visiting longer at social time—as long as there is food to eat, folks stay and visit and support one another. From this point of view, the measure of a good coffee hour is that you can't get people to leave and there is food left over—a sign that there was more than enough. A biblical example of this would be the story of Jesus feeding the 5000.
There are some who are more of the mind that coffee hour should be spare. It shouldn't be elaborate, because there are people here who might feel too intimidated to sign up to bring treats for coffee hour. They might feel they have to match the amount and quality and variety that some others provide. Furthermore, some believe that with a hungry world out there, it is a problem for us to dine so heartily on so many treats. A biblical example of this kind of coffee hour would be the story of Jesus tempted in the Wilderness, fasting for 40 days.
Some want to just bring cookies, like the good old days. But there are diabetics and children whose parents don't just want their kids eating sweets, so we bring in the cheese and crackers and pretty soon the fruit, and the veggies who are more health-conscious, etc. Are those who do a more elaborate coffee hour wrong? No! How about those who do a more simplified version? There is nothing wrong with that approach either.
So if we can have all this controversy and drama around coffee hour (I can attest that I have literally heard hours and hours of opinions on this), think what kinds of feelings and beliefs come up around Holy Communion—who is welcome to receive, how many Sundays a month it should be offered, what kind of bread, what kind of beverage, what kind of cups, who can serve it, should we stand or kneel, should we sing or not during distribution, and so forth.
The good news is, it doesn't matter to God. What matters is that we get together as a community and figure out how to talk about what works best for us and, more importantly, what works best for our neighbor, who may not be used to the way we do things. It is good that we are in community with a wide variety of styles and preferences at coffee hour. That way everyone knows it is safe to be yourself and have your own style in this and any other area of your life. No matter what, you are welcome here and may participate in whatever activities you want to on whatever level suits you.
The bad news is, we waste a lot of time and energy talking about this stuff that doesn't matter to God, when we could be using that energy to help somebody. Furthermore, outsiders see us arguing about stuff that doesn't matters, whether it be coffee hour, human sexuality, organ versus piano, what color to paint the church, and they don't want to be part of that. They also correctly perceive that these arguments are often hiding some other disconnect between us and possibly keeping us from sharing our deeper feelings and values with each other.
I rarely take arguments about food or traditions at face value. Often they are about trust, insecurity, power and so forth. For instance, when my husband I have debates about how to load the dishwasher, I figure there is something else going on, because really the dishwasher doesn't matter. I was listening to a story on NPR this week by an author studying couples and singles and this story reassured me that couples are doomed to a lifetime of arguing about household chores, but in the end, if you could stand it and you didn't kill each other, it was worth it to have someone to take you to the doctor and provide some companionship in life. I have to ask myself, if Nick brings up that I snuck the knives into the dishwasher instead of handwashing them, is there some other part of his life that he isn't feeling in control that he feels he needs to control this? Has he had a bad day? If I bring it up, it is because I'm not feeling valued and supported with the household chores? There is something going on behind most petty arguments, and maybe even all of them.
So here comes Jesus in the Gospel this morning—the real authority on every matter. Of course I always figure Jesus is on my side. I like to be right more than just about anything else. Jesus, please tell us, what kind of coffee hour is the right kind, paper or cloth napkins, wine or grape juice for the Lord's Supper, forks up or down in the dishwasher? He sees right through our petty disagreements and he isn't giving them the time of day. He doesn't get dragged into the discussion. I find that ignoring is becoming a valuable tool in my toolkit, especially as the mother of a toddler who is trying to get my attention with temper tantrums. Jesus ignores those in power and starts teaching right over them. And Jesus also looks around. He sees there someone who is hurting and he goes to him and frees him.
We are not Jesus, but we can learn from Jesus and follow him. I know I have a lot of learning to do. We all do. I hope that some time soon, when we find ourselves ranting about something so insignificant, we notice it and stop. We might, then, take a look inside ourselves and just be curious about why we're so angry or put out, what is really going on inside us that this is where we put our focus. I don't know what we'll find. I might even be a little afraid to find out. But it will be good for us to see ourselves clearly and then be able to express what need really is there that we haven't addressed—what grief, what fear, what shame. And secondly, I hope we would do as Jesus did and look around at those around us and see who might be on the fringes, who might be feeling left out, who looks a little lost and approach them.
It is Jesus noticing this tormented man and approaching him that changes everything. This changes the focus of the room from the teaching of the scribes that wasn't authoritative. It changes the center of the room as Jesus approaches the outer edge. Jesus doesn't walk in and say, “Look at me, everyone!” He focuses on someone who needs his healing presence and he invites us all to see those in our midst we never noticed before and to see their pain and suffering, acknowledge it and approach that person despite our fears and hesitation. It wasn't just Jesus blessing this man and freeing him. This man is the the only who recognized Jesus and named him and because of him, stories about Jesus start to spread. This man blesses Jesus. Blessing goes both ways. We have a sense of foreboding that eventually this will lead to Jesus' death, but we also know that there are three years of ministry ahead of him, that this fame will lead many to come to Jesus where they will find healing, where they will be freed, where petty disagreements about dietary preferences won't take center stage, but where topics like healing and disease and separation and fear will be addressed as well and where these suffering ones will be part of the conversation, contributing to the discussion instead of always just being talked about as if they aren't there.
These readings and our faith invite us to step out of the role of authority, to stop making ourselves the center of everything. Instead we place Jesus there and all the people he represented who never otherwise got noticed. Instead of putting our needs and preferences first, he invites us to think of others and the effects our choices and actions might make on them, to pay attention to them. Then our own petty arguments and differences will disappear and we can focus on the healing and life that matter to Jesus and ultimately matter to all of us.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
January 25, 2015
Gospel: Mark 1:14-20
1st Reading: Johah 3:1-5, 10
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
It is amazing how many little kid books talk about running away. We’d like to skip out on reading books like that to our toddler, but it seems to be a topic that’s hard to avoid. One favorite book is by Mercer Mayer, called “I was so mad.” You may have read this book before. The kid wants to do any number of things he’s not supposed to such as keep frogs in the bathtub, tickle the goldfish, prune the rose bush, juggle with eggs, and so forth and no one will let him, and so he gets so mad. It has been a good book for us to read so that our son can name one of his strongest emotions and know he isn’t alone. The problem is this kid threatens to run away from home. I’d rather wait until it occurs to Sterling or his school friends tell him that there is such a thing as running away. It is something many kids consider in their young lives, but I don’t like to think put ideas in his head. Maybe it is funny when little kids threaten it or attempt it, but bigger kids can pull it off and I can’t imagine the anguish of their parents until those kids come home.
In the scriptures for today, God is calling various people. Some come quickly when called and others run the other way.
We all have callings. We all have vocations. Some of our callings are in our work. Martin Luther talked about God calling all people. I went looking for Luther’s famous quote about how the woman who sweeps does God’s work as much as the monk who prays, but I’m sorry to tell you that there is no evidence that he ever said this. Furthermore the quote is more about works righteousness than it is about calling. It seems to say that God likes people to work hard and it is the quality of the work that gives glory to God. Luther’s doctrine of vocation is more about God calling us to work and service on behalf of our neighbor. God likes grocery clerks because the neighbor needs food. God likes teachers, because the neighbor needs an education. You get the idea.
We all have vocations and callings in our families, too. Some are called as aunts or uncles, parents, children of aging parents, brothers, sisters, and so forth.
God is always calling us. God calls us from our old realities and traps and falsehoods, into new life. God is calling us to bring us from a long-distance relationship into accord with God’s Kingdom, a relationship of presence and nearness and hope.
Jonah was called to preach to the people of Nineveh. Like the little critter from Sterling’s book, he ran away. We know what happened next to Jonah. He was thrown overboard, swallowed by a whale, and given three days to think about his refusal. This morning’s story picks up there. The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time. I doubt he was happy to hear from God again. I can just hear him declaring how mad he is. He’s mad at the people of Nineveh. He’s mad at God. He’s just plain grouchy. But he tried to run away and found himself in the belly of a big fish and spewed out on the shore. There would be no running away. He just hoped it was all a co-incidence. But no, now God is telling him again to go to Nineveh.
Nineveh was a Gentile nation. Why should they listen to Jonah or Yahweh? Nineveh was a very violent city. Certainly Jonah feared for his life. I doubt any of us would have accepted the assignment the first time around. We probably would have run away, too. And at times we have all run away from what we knew was right, what we knew was our calling. Sometimes we’ve been corrected, either by our nagging conscience, or by someone who could see the situation more clearly than we could. Sometimes we’ve corrected our course. Other times we’ve just continued running.
Contrast this with the disciples. They immediately dropped their nets and followed Jesus. What was so different about them? Did they know Jesus from before? Was his personality just so magnetic that they couldn’t help themselves? Or maybe they were fed up and dissatisfied with being fishermen, maybe they had no hopes for their future, that when they heard someone articulating the vision that did hold hope and a future, they were just ready to go. They were tired of God far away and ready for God coming near. They were ready to fish for people.
The Corinthians were a mixture of Jonah and the Disciples. Sometimes they are running to follow God and sometimes they were running the other way. Paul urges them to run toward God and not all the temptations of the world. For him there was an urgency to the running, God’s Kingdom is now, it is present, we had all better listen to God’s calling. Furthermore, the world was dangerous and threatening. Christians were being persecuted. They were misunderstanding the Gospel and leading each other into temptation. They were forgetting what Paul had taught them. They were forgetting their calling and vocation. So Paul reminds them. He urges them to live in the moment—not to be too concerned with the past or preparing for the future. In this threatening world, all you had was today. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring and you couldn’t control that anyway. All we have is today. This reminds me of people who get a diagnosis of a life-threatening disease. Sometimes they have a sense of life that leads them to appreciate the moment. You can’t tell someone to live this way, in the moment. But sometimes we are given the gift of living in the moment. I remember feeling this way when Sterling was born. I’m hoping to recapture it a bit in my sabbatical. Sometimes we can live this way when we take a vacation or by practicing mindfulness techniques such as an alarm that reminds you to focus on the moment or daily devotions or even service projects and volunteering.
We are like the Disciples. We are usually somewhere on the continuum between running completely in the other direction when God calls us and running straight into God’s loving arms. And I think it depends on how comfortable we are verses how fed up we are, which direction we run because when we run to God we are eager and open for the new life God is offering. When we run the other way, it is often because we are benefitting from the status quo and we don’t want anything to change. We tend to live lives of privilege and comfort and because of that we often run the other direction. But we also know times of hardship and pain and we get fed up with this world and ready for the new life God offers.
In what ways are we fed up? In what ways are we ready for God’s reign?
Every time we have the pantry, I know I feel fed up. I get fed up with a world where people can’t find meaningful work, where the elderly and disabled fall through the cracks, where children are suffering because we don’t see food as a basic human right, and where nutrition is absent in the most affordable foods, and that it is so much about money and so little about giving life. It makes me feel that the work of the pantry is so important, plus the fact that it breaks down the barriers between the congregations that serve, it breaks down barriers between insiders and outsiders for our church, and I always learn something about myself and am challenged in my assumptions. As a result of the feeling of being fed up, many of us throw ourselves more into the work of the pantry. Others have been thinking more about advocacy or expanding our work in the areas of nutrition, maybe having some cooking and canning classes. In a couple of weeks four of us are traveling to Salem to talk to our legislators about the needs in our community and to hear what we can do that can help make the change this neighborhood needs. Any of you would be welcome to come to Ecumenical Advocacy Day. Talk to me if you want to know more.
I am not exactly fed up, but my body and my mind are dead tired as I try to plan for the 11th time Christmas, Lent, Easter—what will help people connect with God, what will wake them up, what will help them give and receive from this community, what can I say that I haven’t already said, how can I say what needs to be said in a way it can be heard? If I don’t take the time to listen to the Spirit, how can I expect to hear God in a new way and how can I expect you to take the time to listen to God. So I have this sabbatical planned. It will be a lot less talking and a lot more listening. And I hope you, too, get fed up with the same style and the same examples, the same mannerisms and embrace some new ones of a new leader for a little while. It’s ok to take a little break to listen to God and see what God might be saying differently through a different person.
If we’re fed up and accepting the call, God invites us to change the world, to see that the Kingdom of God is so close by and to make it close by for all who suffer because it seems remote when our systems oppress and hurt people. If we’re running the other way, God invites us to live in the moment and to witness what other people are going through.
Jonah was a big grump. But I don’t think the story really ends with him pouting by the fig tree because the people of Nineveh repented and God didn’t destroy them. Jonah spent three days walking through that city. I think his heart began to soften. He would think of the people of that city every singe day from then on. They became a part of him. He saw them and started to feel compassion. More than changing the Ninevites, God changed Jonah and changes us every time we are stubborn or pouting or running away by putting us in the midst of real people with real lives, Jesus Christ in the poor, the hungry, the weary, the grieving and so forth, until our heartstrings get pulled and we stop running from the one trying to give us life.
1st Reading: Johah 3:1-5, 10
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
It is amazing how many little kid books talk about running away. We’d like to skip out on reading books like that to our toddler, but it seems to be a topic that’s hard to avoid. One favorite book is by Mercer Mayer, called “I was so mad.” You may have read this book before. The kid wants to do any number of things he’s not supposed to such as keep frogs in the bathtub, tickle the goldfish, prune the rose bush, juggle with eggs, and so forth and no one will let him, and so he gets so mad. It has been a good book for us to read so that our son can name one of his strongest emotions and know he isn’t alone. The problem is this kid threatens to run away from home. I’d rather wait until it occurs to Sterling or his school friends tell him that there is such a thing as running away. It is something many kids consider in their young lives, but I don’t like to think put ideas in his head. Maybe it is funny when little kids threaten it or attempt it, but bigger kids can pull it off and I can’t imagine the anguish of their parents until those kids come home.
In the scriptures for today, God is calling various people. Some come quickly when called and others run the other way.
We all have callings. We all have vocations. Some of our callings are in our work. Martin Luther talked about God calling all people. I went looking for Luther’s famous quote about how the woman who sweeps does God’s work as much as the monk who prays, but I’m sorry to tell you that there is no evidence that he ever said this. Furthermore the quote is more about works righteousness than it is about calling. It seems to say that God likes people to work hard and it is the quality of the work that gives glory to God. Luther’s doctrine of vocation is more about God calling us to work and service on behalf of our neighbor. God likes grocery clerks because the neighbor needs food. God likes teachers, because the neighbor needs an education. You get the idea.
We all have vocations and callings in our families, too. Some are called as aunts or uncles, parents, children of aging parents, brothers, sisters, and so forth.
God is always calling us. God calls us from our old realities and traps and falsehoods, into new life. God is calling us to bring us from a long-distance relationship into accord with God’s Kingdom, a relationship of presence and nearness and hope.
Jonah was called to preach to the people of Nineveh. Like the little critter from Sterling’s book, he ran away. We know what happened next to Jonah. He was thrown overboard, swallowed by a whale, and given three days to think about his refusal. This morning’s story picks up there. The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time. I doubt he was happy to hear from God again. I can just hear him declaring how mad he is. He’s mad at the people of Nineveh. He’s mad at God. He’s just plain grouchy. But he tried to run away and found himself in the belly of a big fish and spewed out on the shore. There would be no running away. He just hoped it was all a co-incidence. But no, now God is telling him again to go to Nineveh.
Nineveh was a Gentile nation. Why should they listen to Jonah or Yahweh? Nineveh was a very violent city. Certainly Jonah feared for his life. I doubt any of us would have accepted the assignment the first time around. We probably would have run away, too. And at times we have all run away from what we knew was right, what we knew was our calling. Sometimes we’ve been corrected, either by our nagging conscience, or by someone who could see the situation more clearly than we could. Sometimes we’ve corrected our course. Other times we’ve just continued running.
Contrast this with the disciples. They immediately dropped their nets and followed Jesus. What was so different about them? Did they know Jesus from before? Was his personality just so magnetic that they couldn’t help themselves? Or maybe they were fed up and dissatisfied with being fishermen, maybe they had no hopes for their future, that when they heard someone articulating the vision that did hold hope and a future, they were just ready to go. They were tired of God far away and ready for God coming near. They were ready to fish for people.
The Corinthians were a mixture of Jonah and the Disciples. Sometimes they are running to follow God and sometimes they were running the other way. Paul urges them to run toward God and not all the temptations of the world. For him there was an urgency to the running, God’s Kingdom is now, it is present, we had all better listen to God’s calling. Furthermore, the world was dangerous and threatening. Christians were being persecuted. They were misunderstanding the Gospel and leading each other into temptation. They were forgetting what Paul had taught them. They were forgetting their calling and vocation. So Paul reminds them. He urges them to live in the moment—not to be too concerned with the past or preparing for the future. In this threatening world, all you had was today. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring and you couldn’t control that anyway. All we have is today. This reminds me of people who get a diagnosis of a life-threatening disease. Sometimes they have a sense of life that leads them to appreciate the moment. You can’t tell someone to live this way, in the moment. But sometimes we are given the gift of living in the moment. I remember feeling this way when Sterling was born. I’m hoping to recapture it a bit in my sabbatical. Sometimes we can live this way when we take a vacation or by practicing mindfulness techniques such as an alarm that reminds you to focus on the moment or daily devotions or even service projects and volunteering.
We are like the Disciples. We are usually somewhere on the continuum between running completely in the other direction when God calls us and running straight into God’s loving arms. And I think it depends on how comfortable we are verses how fed up we are, which direction we run because when we run to God we are eager and open for the new life God is offering. When we run the other way, it is often because we are benefitting from the status quo and we don’t want anything to change. We tend to live lives of privilege and comfort and because of that we often run the other direction. But we also know times of hardship and pain and we get fed up with this world and ready for the new life God offers.
In what ways are we fed up? In what ways are we ready for God’s reign?
Every time we have the pantry, I know I feel fed up. I get fed up with a world where people can’t find meaningful work, where the elderly and disabled fall through the cracks, where children are suffering because we don’t see food as a basic human right, and where nutrition is absent in the most affordable foods, and that it is so much about money and so little about giving life. It makes me feel that the work of the pantry is so important, plus the fact that it breaks down the barriers between the congregations that serve, it breaks down barriers between insiders and outsiders for our church, and I always learn something about myself and am challenged in my assumptions. As a result of the feeling of being fed up, many of us throw ourselves more into the work of the pantry. Others have been thinking more about advocacy or expanding our work in the areas of nutrition, maybe having some cooking and canning classes. In a couple of weeks four of us are traveling to Salem to talk to our legislators about the needs in our community and to hear what we can do that can help make the change this neighborhood needs. Any of you would be welcome to come to Ecumenical Advocacy Day. Talk to me if you want to know more.
I am not exactly fed up, but my body and my mind are dead tired as I try to plan for the 11th time Christmas, Lent, Easter—what will help people connect with God, what will wake them up, what will help them give and receive from this community, what can I say that I haven’t already said, how can I say what needs to be said in a way it can be heard? If I don’t take the time to listen to the Spirit, how can I expect to hear God in a new way and how can I expect you to take the time to listen to God. So I have this sabbatical planned. It will be a lot less talking and a lot more listening. And I hope you, too, get fed up with the same style and the same examples, the same mannerisms and embrace some new ones of a new leader for a little while. It’s ok to take a little break to listen to God and see what God might be saying differently through a different person.
If we’re fed up and accepting the call, God invites us to change the world, to see that the Kingdom of God is so close by and to make it close by for all who suffer because it seems remote when our systems oppress and hurt people. If we’re running the other way, God invites us to live in the moment and to witness what other people are going through.
Jonah was a big grump. But I don’t think the story really ends with him pouting by the fig tree because the people of Nineveh repented and God didn’t destroy them. Jonah spent three days walking through that city. I think his heart began to soften. He would think of the people of that city every singe day from then on. They became a part of him. He saw them and started to feel compassion. More than changing the Ninevites, God changed Jonah and changes us every time we are stubborn or pouting or running away by putting us in the midst of real people with real lives, Jesus Christ in the poor, the hungry, the weary, the grieving and so forth, until our heartstrings get pulled and we stop running from the one trying to give us life.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
January 18, 2015 Gospel: John 1:43-51 1st Reading: 1 Samuel 3:1-20
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20
“The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” This made me wonder about these days. Is the word of the LORD common or rare? Where and when do we hear it? How do we know it is God's word?
Are God's words and voice sometimes more prevalent and other times absent? The word for “rare” here is “precious” or “exceptional” but still gives the feeling of being infrequent. Maybe it has more to do with selective hearing, or our willingness or ability to listen. Yet certainly God's presence would have been everywhere and could be noted in nature and in blessings to give thanks for and in the different kinds of people you'd meet, if you were open to seeing it. It seems that dreams and visions can be interpreted in light of God's action, or those actions can be ignored and we can choose to find other meaning in them.
So if the word of God is always present and it depends on us listening, when are we better listeners? I think it is likely when we are in desperate need or when we understand that there is something in it for us if we do listen. For each of us then, the word of God is rare when we think we've got it covered, when we put our trust in our selves, when we are comfortable and confident, and when we are distracted by the temptations of this world, the idolatry in which we put our trust in ourselves or our money or our power. But we quickly tune our stations back into God's word when we're in trouble, when we remember who and what is most important, and when we realize we can't do it all ourselves.
The word of the LORD was rare with Eli. He and his sons were comfortable. In fact his sons had been insulting God with their words and probably their actions. But God doesn't give up on them. God finds someone who can listen, young Samuel, to tell the message that Eli and his sons couldn't otherwise hear. Then Samuel spends his life listening to God and being a trustworthy prophet of the LORD, telling others what they otherwise couldn't hear and bearing witness to God's saving power through his words and actions.
The Corinthians have received the Good News of Jesus Christ through Paul himself, but they have gone back to listening only to their own desires and not what is best for the community. The have selective hearing, taking to heart the part about grace, but forgetting they are to have a changed life. They have found freedom in God's grace and forgiveness, but they are abusing that grace, by sinning all the more. In particular some of them are visiting prostitutes and then coming to the community to brag about it.
We might chuckle to ourselves a little bit with this second reading. They were sure hung up on fornication. What does that have to do with us? I'm second generation after the sexual revolution. Our parents couldn't advise us to wait until marriage because they didn't. These days it is important to many couples to know they are sexually compatible before they commit themselves to one another for life.
But the word translated here as fornication means something more like debauchery. It doesn't just refer to the sin of an individual or a couple. It is also about being unfaithful to God, not listening to God. We've been learning in our Wednesday Bible Study that the Apostle Paul, who wrote these letters to the Corinthians was quite concerned about the body and what we do with our bodies. Some folks had the idea that it wasn't really Jesus' body on the cross—that he was somehow absent at the crucifixion. But Paul wanted to stress that the body is important or God wouldn't have ever come in the flesh. He wanted to stress that Jesus really did suffer, otherwise how could we identify with him in our sufferings. Paul wanted to stress that what we do with our bodies does matter, because God is present with us both in this life and the next and with our bodies and our five senses we can connect to God, or we can reject God and feed our own desires and pleasures and damage our bodies.
In addition, the body refers to the community, the body of Christ. So it isn't just what we do with our individual bodies that can harm or help us, but it what we do with the body of Christ, our community that can harm or help us and our neighbors. For instance in the Corinthian Christian community, their gatherings were usually a meal. Those who were more wealthy got off work earlier and would come to the meal and eat all the food and drink all the wine. And those working swing shift, who were more in need, would come and all the food would be gone. Imagine if at communion, the wealthy were invited up first and they took all the bread and wine and when the poorest came to the table, there was nothing left. The idea is that some were being selfish and damaging the whole community as well as their own health and well-being.
When we are part of a community we must listen. We listen to ourselves and our own needs. We listen to each other and get feedback and support and education. We listen to God. Often God speaks through other people, especially marginalized people we don't usually want to listen to. God can speak through visions and dreams, when we are quiet and pay attention to God's Spirit speaking within us. It takes a lot of listening.
Sometimes it is hard to listen when we think we know all the answers. That's one life skill we will probably all be working on our whole lives long. How do we listen without just sticking to our own agenda? How can we listen with openness to other points of view and those on other paths? How can we listen without at the same time forming our response for rebuttal?
Christians have been known to be pushy, as some have felt that there is one path to God. We don't know how to do evangelism in a way that doesn't alienate people or disrespect the spiritual path they are on. So we have abandoned evangelism. In fact we don't even want to talk about our faith at all so we won't get mixed up with more fundamentalist, pushy Christians. But I think listening is the key. We can be listeners in our families and neighborhoods and groups of friends and be doing what God is teaching us to do—just be open and in that way minister to one another and allow ourselves to be affected and changed by what we see and hear.
Let me give a couple of examples. A few years ago a friend of mine just dropped out of my life altogether. It was kind of weird. I saw on facebook she had gotten a horse. I think I was a little jealous of this horse. I didn't like her path at all. But I opened myself up and listened and I figured out that with this horse, she was having a religious experience. She was experiencing something transcendent and beautiful and it had changed her. She was like a new convert to a religion, completely swept up in it and I couldn't resent that anymore. I had to respect her path.
Here's another example. The year I was confirmed, one of the young men in my Confirmation class decided not to be confirmed. I remember Ryan had his appendix burst on the ball field and my pastor took the whole class (of 6 others) to the hospital to visit him. It was a couple of weeks before Confirmation day and he told us that he wasn't going to be confirmed. My pastor wasn't pushy. He accepted it, he listened, he respected Ryan's path. And I've heard recently that Ryan's wife has brought his children to church because they suddenly are interested and want to be involved.
We respected his path, because none of us could judge him or take the place of God who in Jesus this morning simply says, “Follow me” and “Come and see.” It was a simple invitation to move forward, not knowing the particular path. We also respected Ryan's path because he wasn't just going through with what was expected of him, but he thought about it deeply enough to know if his heart wasn't in it that he shouldn't do it.
Follow me—it isn't like Jesus had a particular straight and easy spiritual path to follow. He was going all sorts of unexpected places. Folks had an idea of the kind of Messiah the would receive from God, and Jesus was not it. He wasn't rich. He wasn't powerful. He had all kinds of friends his parents and pastor wouldn't approve of. He didn't spend all his days in the temple or synagogue. He was out there among the people, sleeping in the dirt, and eating whatever was shared. He was arrested and executed, too. Our Messiah was a felon on death row. His path was unexpected. When we follow Jesus, we listen and we go unexpected places to unexpected people. There is no right path, but only following and not with GPS, but one foot after the other, one day at a time, not knowing what each day will bring, only that we have God's presence with us.
Come and see—it is an invitation. Come and listen. We open ourselves to discovery, to have the path and picture in our mind of what our spiritual path will be or someone else's, and then come and experience, take a look, find out if we will find something worth pursuing. And that's what we get to do for others, not dictate their path, but to live lives that are inviting to others, that are open to curiosity, that cause someone to ask about our path because they might be looking for a path too, or not sure what a path looks like, or who might be on a similar journey. May God teach us to listen, as Samuel did, and when we can't seem to listen, give us people to help open our ears. And as we listen, may we hear and extend the invitation to come and see, going where our Savior leads us, into new life.
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20
“The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” This made me wonder about these days. Is the word of the LORD common or rare? Where and when do we hear it? How do we know it is God's word?
Are God's words and voice sometimes more prevalent and other times absent? The word for “rare” here is “precious” or “exceptional” but still gives the feeling of being infrequent. Maybe it has more to do with selective hearing, or our willingness or ability to listen. Yet certainly God's presence would have been everywhere and could be noted in nature and in blessings to give thanks for and in the different kinds of people you'd meet, if you were open to seeing it. It seems that dreams and visions can be interpreted in light of God's action, or those actions can be ignored and we can choose to find other meaning in them.
So if the word of God is always present and it depends on us listening, when are we better listeners? I think it is likely when we are in desperate need or when we understand that there is something in it for us if we do listen. For each of us then, the word of God is rare when we think we've got it covered, when we put our trust in our selves, when we are comfortable and confident, and when we are distracted by the temptations of this world, the idolatry in which we put our trust in ourselves or our money or our power. But we quickly tune our stations back into God's word when we're in trouble, when we remember who and what is most important, and when we realize we can't do it all ourselves.
The word of the LORD was rare with Eli. He and his sons were comfortable. In fact his sons had been insulting God with their words and probably their actions. But God doesn't give up on them. God finds someone who can listen, young Samuel, to tell the message that Eli and his sons couldn't otherwise hear. Then Samuel spends his life listening to God and being a trustworthy prophet of the LORD, telling others what they otherwise couldn't hear and bearing witness to God's saving power through his words and actions.
The Corinthians have received the Good News of Jesus Christ through Paul himself, but they have gone back to listening only to their own desires and not what is best for the community. The have selective hearing, taking to heart the part about grace, but forgetting they are to have a changed life. They have found freedom in God's grace and forgiveness, but they are abusing that grace, by sinning all the more. In particular some of them are visiting prostitutes and then coming to the community to brag about it.
We might chuckle to ourselves a little bit with this second reading. They were sure hung up on fornication. What does that have to do with us? I'm second generation after the sexual revolution. Our parents couldn't advise us to wait until marriage because they didn't. These days it is important to many couples to know they are sexually compatible before they commit themselves to one another for life.
But the word translated here as fornication means something more like debauchery. It doesn't just refer to the sin of an individual or a couple. It is also about being unfaithful to God, not listening to God. We've been learning in our Wednesday Bible Study that the Apostle Paul, who wrote these letters to the Corinthians was quite concerned about the body and what we do with our bodies. Some folks had the idea that it wasn't really Jesus' body on the cross—that he was somehow absent at the crucifixion. But Paul wanted to stress that the body is important or God wouldn't have ever come in the flesh. He wanted to stress that Jesus really did suffer, otherwise how could we identify with him in our sufferings. Paul wanted to stress that what we do with our bodies does matter, because God is present with us both in this life and the next and with our bodies and our five senses we can connect to God, or we can reject God and feed our own desires and pleasures and damage our bodies.
In addition, the body refers to the community, the body of Christ. So it isn't just what we do with our individual bodies that can harm or help us, but it what we do with the body of Christ, our community that can harm or help us and our neighbors. For instance in the Corinthian Christian community, their gatherings were usually a meal. Those who were more wealthy got off work earlier and would come to the meal and eat all the food and drink all the wine. And those working swing shift, who were more in need, would come and all the food would be gone. Imagine if at communion, the wealthy were invited up first and they took all the bread and wine and when the poorest came to the table, there was nothing left. The idea is that some were being selfish and damaging the whole community as well as their own health and well-being.
When we are part of a community we must listen. We listen to ourselves and our own needs. We listen to each other and get feedback and support and education. We listen to God. Often God speaks through other people, especially marginalized people we don't usually want to listen to. God can speak through visions and dreams, when we are quiet and pay attention to God's Spirit speaking within us. It takes a lot of listening.
Sometimes it is hard to listen when we think we know all the answers. That's one life skill we will probably all be working on our whole lives long. How do we listen without just sticking to our own agenda? How can we listen with openness to other points of view and those on other paths? How can we listen without at the same time forming our response for rebuttal?
Christians have been known to be pushy, as some have felt that there is one path to God. We don't know how to do evangelism in a way that doesn't alienate people or disrespect the spiritual path they are on. So we have abandoned evangelism. In fact we don't even want to talk about our faith at all so we won't get mixed up with more fundamentalist, pushy Christians. But I think listening is the key. We can be listeners in our families and neighborhoods and groups of friends and be doing what God is teaching us to do—just be open and in that way minister to one another and allow ourselves to be affected and changed by what we see and hear.
Let me give a couple of examples. A few years ago a friend of mine just dropped out of my life altogether. It was kind of weird. I saw on facebook she had gotten a horse. I think I was a little jealous of this horse. I didn't like her path at all. But I opened myself up and listened and I figured out that with this horse, she was having a religious experience. She was experiencing something transcendent and beautiful and it had changed her. She was like a new convert to a religion, completely swept up in it and I couldn't resent that anymore. I had to respect her path.
Here's another example. The year I was confirmed, one of the young men in my Confirmation class decided not to be confirmed. I remember Ryan had his appendix burst on the ball field and my pastor took the whole class (of 6 others) to the hospital to visit him. It was a couple of weeks before Confirmation day and he told us that he wasn't going to be confirmed. My pastor wasn't pushy. He accepted it, he listened, he respected Ryan's path. And I've heard recently that Ryan's wife has brought his children to church because they suddenly are interested and want to be involved.
We respected his path, because none of us could judge him or take the place of God who in Jesus this morning simply says, “Follow me” and “Come and see.” It was a simple invitation to move forward, not knowing the particular path. We also respected Ryan's path because he wasn't just going through with what was expected of him, but he thought about it deeply enough to know if his heart wasn't in it that he shouldn't do it.
Follow me—it isn't like Jesus had a particular straight and easy spiritual path to follow. He was going all sorts of unexpected places. Folks had an idea of the kind of Messiah the would receive from God, and Jesus was not it. He wasn't rich. He wasn't powerful. He had all kinds of friends his parents and pastor wouldn't approve of. He didn't spend all his days in the temple or synagogue. He was out there among the people, sleeping in the dirt, and eating whatever was shared. He was arrested and executed, too. Our Messiah was a felon on death row. His path was unexpected. When we follow Jesus, we listen and we go unexpected places to unexpected people. There is no right path, but only following and not with GPS, but one foot after the other, one day at a time, not knowing what each day will bring, only that we have God's presence with us.
Come and see—it is an invitation. Come and listen. We open ourselves to discovery, to have the path and picture in our mind of what our spiritual path will be or someone else's, and then come and experience, take a look, find out if we will find something worth pursuing. And that's what we get to do for others, not dictate their path, but to live lives that are inviting to others, that are open to curiosity, that cause someone to ask about our path because they might be looking for a path too, or not sure what a path looks like, or who might be on a similar journey. May God teach us to listen, as Samuel did, and when we can't seem to listen, give us people to help open our ears. And as we listen, may we hear and extend the invitation to come and see, going where our Savior leads us, into new life.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
January 11, 2015
Gospel: Mark 1:4-11
1st Reading: Genesis 1:1-5
2nd Reading: Acts 19:1-7
“In the beginning...” Where to begin? A given story has any number of places you can begin. You can tell a story a thousand times and never begin it the same way. What is the beginning of your story? Do you start with the day you were born, or with your parents meeting, or on some day that everything changed for you and you started becoming the person you eventually became?
Any of us could start our story with this reading from Genesis. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. At that moment of the big bang, all the elements were formed that would eventually come together to make us, our bodies and our world. Our story is the story of the formation of the stars and universe. We are made of stardust. Of course if you start there, you are going to have a very thick book.
Some of us might start with the day of our birth. What kind of a day was it? What happened that day? Who were the key players? What were those first moments, that first day of life like?
And some of us might start with our baptism day. It is a day of beginnings. God has always been with us, even before we were ourselves, even at the creation of all the elements and particles that would become us. God has been with our families before us and forming us in the womb, and there in the miracle of our birth and in our life. But we so easily forget. We have a million distractions. We have a lot of learning to do. We have people to keep up with. We have all of the temptations of life. We have trouble to get into, mistakes to make, in all our learning and growing. So we need a day in which we are named by God, in which we touch the water or the water touches us, in which the community surrounds us and reminds us that we are not alone, that we belong, that there are people there support us and care for us and are responsible for our upbringing and agree to be examples to us and help answer our questions and say hello and look out for us. We need a day to remember God's promises to always love us, to provide for us and adopt us. We need a day to hear the words from God, “You are my beloved Child! With you I am well pleased.” We need a day to mark the beginning of new life in Christ.
This is a day that offers us strength, forgiveness, and a reminder of who we are. It is a day to remember a new beginning and all the new beginnings God offers us.
Children baptized in this church receive a banner. It hangs here for a year to remind the newly baptized that they are a part of this church, this community. It hangs there to name the child and to remind all of us of our responsibilities and to ensure that they child knows how important they are. The butterfly signifies the new life that is developing and growing, like a chrysalis becoming a butterfly. Then after a year these banners go home with the child. It is a visual reminder at home of this special day. It is a reminder there of the community to which the child belongs. It is a reminder of that date, so it can be celebrated and marked each year. Recent reports from some children of the congregation tell us that some of these banners are hanging on bedroom walls well into their teens and some as young adults, reminding them of who they are and the love God has for them.
Some of us can remember our baptism day. Others of us were infants. We may or may not have people to tell us what happened that day. Whether we can remember our baptism or not, we are encouraged to “remember our baptism” every day and especially on Sunday. Every day is a new day, a beginning of sorts. God's forgiveness and the chance to start again, to try again to live in a life-giving way for ourselves and others, comes daily, hourly, every minute, every second. We are invited as we start each day to give thanks for the new life the comes with a new day. Some may focus on showering or washing one's face as a good time to remember their baptism, or maybe when walking out of the house in the Oregon rain. Some people do morning devotions to help remind them, or keep a prayer near their bedside so that God's promises are the first thing they see when they wake up. Some may remember their baptism as they pass a church on their way to work or school. Some remember their baptism in prayers at mealtimes. Some may remember it primarily on Sunday, when walking into the church and seeing the font. Sunday is the first day of the week, a good day for new beginnings. Some may even dip a finger into the water and retrace the cross on their forehead that the pastor traced with oil on the day of their baptism when these words were spoken, “You are sealed by the power of the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And some may mark their baptismal anniversary by lighting their baptismal candle and discuss that day and what it meant with family.
The question about beginnings is this, “The beginning of what?” “Where is this going?” The answer is that we don't entirely know. We believe it is the beginning of something good, that recognition of a relationship with God. But we let go of outcomes. We don't know if the newly baptized will ever fully realize the gifts God has given them. I mean, who of us really does? Or maybe that person totally gets it from the beginning and new life is apparent from then on. Some drop away from faith for a while. Some seem to never return, although we can't know what all the Holy Spirit might be doing. It might not look like faith in the way we'd expect it to show itself. We let go of knowing the particular journey of faith that will follow. We trust that God is with this person and we are with this person, through our commitments that we make today. And we trust that God will draw this person home with God in eternal life on the last day.
We let go of outcomes. We pray God's presence and we let go. There have been a couple of bishops in the news lately, one recently and another a year or so ago, each involved in a hit and run. I think of the trajectory of their lives, baptized, lives of faith, entering the ministry, becoming a bishop, their lives seeming so holy and blessed, then this mistake in the blink of an eye, bad decisions to flee the scene, the guilt and pain of taking a life, facing prison, yet baptized and beloved in the eyes of God. We are all a mixture of joy and sorrow, good and bad choices, and the accidents of life both positive and negative. Through it all we know God is present and loving, calling us by name, never leaving us, guiding us and teaching us, forgiving us and helping us to forgive others and ourselves.
The writer of the Gospel of Mark saw Jesus' baptism as the beginning of the good news. Some of the other Gospel writers started with his birth, but Mark goes to beginning of Jesus' ministry, to his baptism when he is named by God and is beginning to reveal himself and all that his ministry is about. We needed a little background on who is baptizing him, John. And Mark tells us very quickly that Jesus didn't just come out of nowhere. We've been expecting him. The prophets have been anticipating this for a long time and John is here pointing to Jesus and preparing the way for him to live among us. The part about the heavens torn apart, refers to the barrier between heaven and earth being destroyed, so that now we have full access to God, nothing comes between us anymore. That's the beginning of the good news. No barriers. No walls or drapes between us.
For those of us who know Damon, who will be baptized this morning, we might see the beginning of his story as starting with John and Cathy, or maybe Tova and Didrik's wedding day, or we may think of the day of his birth. I think of the first time they boys came to Bible School, clinging to their mother. How did they get from there to this point in which this congregation is theirs, too, in which Damon notices this font, asks about the water, is interested enough that he keeps coming back to it and wondering what it has to do with new beginnings for him? Who knows where his life might take him or what new beginnings he might encounter, but as I imagine, I jump 60 years and place him where John is today, the grandfather he's named after. Maybe he, too, will have the joy of journeying in faith with a grandchild of his own, the two of them with the same twist of an eyebrow thinking over the questions that life throws at us, and not knowing all the answers but pondering with the assurance that we are God's beloved children, that God has always been a part of who we are and always will be, and that new beginnings are not only possible, but happening all around us. We may call it new life, forgiveness, one day at a time, love, being in the moment.
And we also thank Damon and his family for this new beginning for our congregation because it was the feedback from the boys that led us start a children's activity during the sermon which was the beginning of this influx of children. We let go of any outcomes of what this is going to mean, but are thankful each day for all new beginnings and try to learn and grow from their presence among us as God remakes us daily into God's precious children.
1st Reading: Genesis 1:1-5
2nd Reading: Acts 19:1-7
“In the beginning...” Where to begin? A given story has any number of places you can begin. You can tell a story a thousand times and never begin it the same way. What is the beginning of your story? Do you start with the day you were born, or with your parents meeting, or on some day that everything changed for you and you started becoming the person you eventually became?
Any of us could start our story with this reading from Genesis. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. At that moment of the big bang, all the elements were formed that would eventually come together to make us, our bodies and our world. Our story is the story of the formation of the stars and universe. We are made of stardust. Of course if you start there, you are going to have a very thick book.
Some of us might start with the day of our birth. What kind of a day was it? What happened that day? Who were the key players? What were those first moments, that first day of life like?
And some of us might start with our baptism day. It is a day of beginnings. God has always been with us, even before we were ourselves, even at the creation of all the elements and particles that would become us. God has been with our families before us and forming us in the womb, and there in the miracle of our birth and in our life. But we so easily forget. We have a million distractions. We have a lot of learning to do. We have people to keep up with. We have all of the temptations of life. We have trouble to get into, mistakes to make, in all our learning and growing. So we need a day in which we are named by God, in which we touch the water or the water touches us, in which the community surrounds us and reminds us that we are not alone, that we belong, that there are people there support us and care for us and are responsible for our upbringing and agree to be examples to us and help answer our questions and say hello and look out for us. We need a day to remember God's promises to always love us, to provide for us and adopt us. We need a day to hear the words from God, “You are my beloved Child! With you I am well pleased.” We need a day to mark the beginning of new life in Christ.
This is a day that offers us strength, forgiveness, and a reminder of who we are. It is a day to remember a new beginning and all the new beginnings God offers us.
Children baptized in this church receive a banner. It hangs here for a year to remind the newly baptized that they are a part of this church, this community. It hangs there to name the child and to remind all of us of our responsibilities and to ensure that they child knows how important they are. The butterfly signifies the new life that is developing and growing, like a chrysalis becoming a butterfly. Then after a year these banners go home with the child. It is a visual reminder at home of this special day. It is a reminder there of the community to which the child belongs. It is a reminder of that date, so it can be celebrated and marked each year. Recent reports from some children of the congregation tell us that some of these banners are hanging on bedroom walls well into their teens and some as young adults, reminding them of who they are and the love God has for them.
Some of us can remember our baptism day. Others of us were infants. We may or may not have people to tell us what happened that day. Whether we can remember our baptism or not, we are encouraged to “remember our baptism” every day and especially on Sunday. Every day is a new day, a beginning of sorts. God's forgiveness and the chance to start again, to try again to live in a life-giving way for ourselves and others, comes daily, hourly, every minute, every second. We are invited as we start each day to give thanks for the new life the comes with a new day. Some may focus on showering or washing one's face as a good time to remember their baptism, or maybe when walking out of the house in the Oregon rain. Some people do morning devotions to help remind them, or keep a prayer near their bedside so that God's promises are the first thing they see when they wake up. Some may remember their baptism as they pass a church on their way to work or school. Some remember their baptism in prayers at mealtimes. Some may remember it primarily on Sunday, when walking into the church and seeing the font. Sunday is the first day of the week, a good day for new beginnings. Some may even dip a finger into the water and retrace the cross on their forehead that the pastor traced with oil on the day of their baptism when these words were spoken, “You are sealed by the power of the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And some may mark their baptismal anniversary by lighting their baptismal candle and discuss that day and what it meant with family.
The question about beginnings is this, “The beginning of what?” “Where is this going?” The answer is that we don't entirely know. We believe it is the beginning of something good, that recognition of a relationship with God. But we let go of outcomes. We don't know if the newly baptized will ever fully realize the gifts God has given them. I mean, who of us really does? Or maybe that person totally gets it from the beginning and new life is apparent from then on. Some drop away from faith for a while. Some seem to never return, although we can't know what all the Holy Spirit might be doing. It might not look like faith in the way we'd expect it to show itself. We let go of knowing the particular journey of faith that will follow. We trust that God is with this person and we are with this person, through our commitments that we make today. And we trust that God will draw this person home with God in eternal life on the last day.
We let go of outcomes. We pray God's presence and we let go. There have been a couple of bishops in the news lately, one recently and another a year or so ago, each involved in a hit and run. I think of the trajectory of their lives, baptized, lives of faith, entering the ministry, becoming a bishop, their lives seeming so holy and blessed, then this mistake in the blink of an eye, bad decisions to flee the scene, the guilt and pain of taking a life, facing prison, yet baptized and beloved in the eyes of God. We are all a mixture of joy and sorrow, good and bad choices, and the accidents of life both positive and negative. Through it all we know God is present and loving, calling us by name, never leaving us, guiding us and teaching us, forgiving us and helping us to forgive others and ourselves.
The writer of the Gospel of Mark saw Jesus' baptism as the beginning of the good news. Some of the other Gospel writers started with his birth, but Mark goes to beginning of Jesus' ministry, to his baptism when he is named by God and is beginning to reveal himself and all that his ministry is about. We needed a little background on who is baptizing him, John. And Mark tells us very quickly that Jesus didn't just come out of nowhere. We've been expecting him. The prophets have been anticipating this for a long time and John is here pointing to Jesus and preparing the way for him to live among us. The part about the heavens torn apart, refers to the barrier between heaven and earth being destroyed, so that now we have full access to God, nothing comes between us anymore. That's the beginning of the good news. No barriers. No walls or drapes between us.
For those of us who know Damon, who will be baptized this morning, we might see the beginning of his story as starting with John and Cathy, or maybe Tova and Didrik's wedding day, or we may think of the day of his birth. I think of the first time they boys came to Bible School, clinging to their mother. How did they get from there to this point in which this congregation is theirs, too, in which Damon notices this font, asks about the water, is interested enough that he keeps coming back to it and wondering what it has to do with new beginnings for him? Who knows where his life might take him or what new beginnings he might encounter, but as I imagine, I jump 60 years and place him where John is today, the grandfather he's named after. Maybe he, too, will have the joy of journeying in faith with a grandchild of his own, the two of them with the same twist of an eyebrow thinking over the questions that life throws at us, and not knowing all the answers but pondering with the assurance that we are God's beloved children, that God has always been a part of who we are and always will be, and that new beginnings are not only possible, but happening all around us. We may call it new life, forgiveness, one day at a time, love, being in the moment.
And we also thank Damon and his family for this new beginning for our congregation because it was the feedback from the boys that led us start a children's activity during the sermon which was the beginning of this influx of children. We let go of any outcomes of what this is going to mean, but are thankful each day for all new beginnings and try to learn and grow from their presence among us as God remakes us daily into God's precious children.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
January 4, 2015
Gospel: Matthew 2:1-12
1st Reading: Isaiah 60:1-6
2nd Reading: Ephesians 3:1-12
In 1999 I did my internship in Oakland, California, at Resurrection Lutheran Church. I met a lot of new people there, almost daily. This church did a lot of community organizing and I remember one of the organizers asking me, “Where's home?” This was a confusing question for me. He meant, “Where are you from?” but to me it went a lot deeper than that. My mom had just sold the home I grew up in and moved to Eastern Oregon. My parents had been divorced about 4 years by then, but, although I encouraged it, it hadn't entirely sunk in. Berkeley wasn't exactly home at that point. We lived in a tiny little seminary apartment that absorbed all the light. It was like a dark cave in there. Internship was going well, but I wasn't exactly comfortable there. I couldn't have told you where home was in that instant so I made some awkward paragraph-long answer to a very simple question. I finally settled on the notion that home was where my husband was.
Where's home? That might be a question that the wise ones heard again and again on their journey. They were wise. They were wealthy. They had resources to travel. They had comforts. They had a home in the east. Yet, somehow it wasn't enough. There was something more they were seeking. Their readings of the stars told them that something amazing was happening that they wouldn't want to miss, something that might redefine home, so they set out from all their books and friends and charts and telescopes to find this new king.
For Jesus, home was also hard to define. As his family traveled to Egypt to escape King Herod, they were probably asked this question many times. Were they afraid to answer for fear they would be found? Did their travels early in Jesus' life affect him as an adult, make him the traveling Messiah that he became? Where was home? Was it in Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Egypt? During Jesus' ministry was it Galilee, Capurnaum, or Jerusalem?
A home for a king ought to be in a castle, right? That's what the wise ones were thinking. So they went to Herod's castle to find the King of the Jews. Instead they found Herod, placed there by the Emperor, to do the Emperor's bidding, to keep control. Herod directs his scribes to comb the scriptures for hints about where the Messiah will be born. They find it in the book of Micah. Bethlehem is the answer. Bethlehem doesn't seem like a likely place for a king to be born, when you'd expect him to come from the castle, nearby in Jerusalem. Bethlehem is humble and quiet. It is a place where shepherds are born. It seems unexpected for a king to be born there, but it did happen once before. King David was also born in Bethlehem and chosen there from amongst his brothers, although he was the youngest, to shepherd the people of Israel. It makes me wonder if the cave or barn in which Jesus was born was one that David had been in. Maybe the shepherds who saw and heard the angel's announcement on Christmas were in one of the same fields that David used to frequent as a shepherd.
David knew what it was like to be without a home, camping in the outdoors, keeping watch over the sheep. He knew what it was like to lose all sense of home, having offended God by taking Bathsheba as his wife after sending her husband to the front lines to die. And he tried to establish a home for God, building a temple to worship, a place he could reliably find God. Which made it very difficult when the temple was destroyed. Where was God's home then? The whole book of Ezekiel in the Old Testament is devoted to that topic. Ezekiel saw a vision of a burning wheel with eyes all over it. It was a vision of a mobile God, still with the people even though they were far from home and even though God's home had been destroyed. Where was home for the exiles? Where was home for God?
And where is home for us, these days? Families live increasingly apart. We move much more frequently than we did 50 years ago. We change jobs a lot. We relocate. Just before Christmas I visited several homebound members whose family members rarely visit them. It was apparent they had to move from their own homes, but some were moved halfway across the US to be near to their children. They have left all their friends behind. They have almost no one, aside from a few caregivers. Where is home for them? Where is home for any of us?
I have been in some pretty fancy houses that didn't feel very comfortable. It made me wonder if it ever felt like home. And I've camped out in the woods and felt very much at home. Maybe home is less of a place and more of a state of mind. Maybe we could think of home as an experience of the presence of God.
The wise ones had their own religion, their own way of life, yet everything they were reading in the stars pointed them toward something more. They were having an experience of God, there in their own country, in the east. But they wanted to come see for themselves the source of this wonder and joy they were experiencing. God was at once everywhere and in a specific place, in a specific person, this child to which the star led them. They were having an experience of God back home, but God had more to show them than they could see and experience at home. They gathered provisions for a long journey. I doubt travel by camel is very comfortable. They certainly encountered many different kinds of people on their way. Some were likely kind and generous. Others were probably not so friendly. They put themselves at great risk on this journey. Maybe it taught them more about relying on God. Maybe they encountered God each day in the different people they met, in beggars, and fellow travelers, refugees, and so forth. Maybe they noticed the presence of God more because they were out of their ordinary day to day routines. Sometimes you have to leave home to find it.
The Israelites found repentance and a reclaiming of their story during the time they were captive in Babylon, when Ezekiel was writing. They made a home in their new land and then found their home again when they returned to Jerusalem and rebuilt. David found his home again as he kept up his relationship with God, as he repented and continued to converse with God and worship God, even though he was ashamed of his previous behavior, even though he would rather have hid away. He found that even though he made mistakes, God was still with him, guiding and loving him and blessing him and correcting him.
Jesus seemed never to stay in one place for long. This is a testament to the availability and mobility of God. He didn't have a home in the sense of having a house, but he made his home among the people, and not the rich and powerful but ordinary everyday people, the poor and sick, women and children, tax collectors, fishermen, and so on. Our home, the presence of God in Jesus, traveled around in this world, even going beyond the grave to be with those who died, and then going on to the heavenly realm where we will all someday be united in the full presence of God.
For us now, home as the presence of God is anywhere the hungry are fed, where the sick find healing, where the lonely are visited, where malaria nets or warm quilts are distributed, where we share all we have, where we are kind and loving and generous, where all are included despite differences. Home isn't a place where we go, it is a place we make when we get out of our comfort zones, when we interact with people different from us, when we take a risk, we volunteer our talents and gifts, when we do something unexpected, when we let go of our own ideas of how thing should go, when we follow God's light and shining star despite the unlikelihood that anything good could ever be found by its glow.
Today we celebrate Epiphany, a festival day in the church calendar. The word epiphany means “Showing forth.” We may associate the word with an “ah-ha!” moment, the moment we finally get it. Today the star is illuminating the way to the infant Jesus, to the Messiah for the wise-ones, the foreigners. At the moment, we may or may not get it. But God is here just the same, illuminating our lives, showing us a better way. The presence of God is here. It always has been and always will be. That hasn't changed. But maybe something in us will change as we leave our homes, our comforts and possessions and strike out in search of something more, the state of mind that shows us that God is our home, that we are always welcome, and then help prepare that home to welcome others on an similar search.
1st Reading: Isaiah 60:1-6
2nd Reading: Ephesians 3:1-12
In 1999 I did my internship in Oakland, California, at Resurrection Lutheran Church. I met a lot of new people there, almost daily. This church did a lot of community organizing and I remember one of the organizers asking me, “Where's home?” This was a confusing question for me. He meant, “Where are you from?” but to me it went a lot deeper than that. My mom had just sold the home I grew up in and moved to Eastern Oregon. My parents had been divorced about 4 years by then, but, although I encouraged it, it hadn't entirely sunk in. Berkeley wasn't exactly home at that point. We lived in a tiny little seminary apartment that absorbed all the light. It was like a dark cave in there. Internship was going well, but I wasn't exactly comfortable there. I couldn't have told you where home was in that instant so I made some awkward paragraph-long answer to a very simple question. I finally settled on the notion that home was where my husband was.
Where's home? That might be a question that the wise ones heard again and again on their journey. They were wise. They were wealthy. They had resources to travel. They had comforts. They had a home in the east. Yet, somehow it wasn't enough. There was something more they were seeking. Their readings of the stars told them that something amazing was happening that they wouldn't want to miss, something that might redefine home, so they set out from all their books and friends and charts and telescopes to find this new king.
For Jesus, home was also hard to define. As his family traveled to Egypt to escape King Herod, they were probably asked this question many times. Were they afraid to answer for fear they would be found? Did their travels early in Jesus' life affect him as an adult, make him the traveling Messiah that he became? Where was home? Was it in Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Egypt? During Jesus' ministry was it Galilee, Capurnaum, or Jerusalem?
A home for a king ought to be in a castle, right? That's what the wise ones were thinking. So they went to Herod's castle to find the King of the Jews. Instead they found Herod, placed there by the Emperor, to do the Emperor's bidding, to keep control. Herod directs his scribes to comb the scriptures for hints about where the Messiah will be born. They find it in the book of Micah. Bethlehem is the answer. Bethlehem doesn't seem like a likely place for a king to be born, when you'd expect him to come from the castle, nearby in Jerusalem. Bethlehem is humble and quiet. It is a place where shepherds are born. It seems unexpected for a king to be born there, but it did happen once before. King David was also born in Bethlehem and chosen there from amongst his brothers, although he was the youngest, to shepherd the people of Israel. It makes me wonder if the cave or barn in which Jesus was born was one that David had been in. Maybe the shepherds who saw and heard the angel's announcement on Christmas were in one of the same fields that David used to frequent as a shepherd.
David knew what it was like to be without a home, camping in the outdoors, keeping watch over the sheep. He knew what it was like to lose all sense of home, having offended God by taking Bathsheba as his wife after sending her husband to the front lines to die. And he tried to establish a home for God, building a temple to worship, a place he could reliably find God. Which made it very difficult when the temple was destroyed. Where was God's home then? The whole book of Ezekiel in the Old Testament is devoted to that topic. Ezekiel saw a vision of a burning wheel with eyes all over it. It was a vision of a mobile God, still with the people even though they were far from home and even though God's home had been destroyed. Where was home for the exiles? Where was home for God?
And where is home for us, these days? Families live increasingly apart. We move much more frequently than we did 50 years ago. We change jobs a lot. We relocate. Just before Christmas I visited several homebound members whose family members rarely visit them. It was apparent they had to move from their own homes, but some were moved halfway across the US to be near to their children. They have left all their friends behind. They have almost no one, aside from a few caregivers. Where is home for them? Where is home for any of us?
I have been in some pretty fancy houses that didn't feel very comfortable. It made me wonder if it ever felt like home. And I've camped out in the woods and felt very much at home. Maybe home is less of a place and more of a state of mind. Maybe we could think of home as an experience of the presence of God.
The wise ones had their own religion, their own way of life, yet everything they were reading in the stars pointed them toward something more. They were having an experience of God, there in their own country, in the east. But they wanted to come see for themselves the source of this wonder and joy they were experiencing. God was at once everywhere and in a specific place, in a specific person, this child to which the star led them. They were having an experience of God back home, but God had more to show them than they could see and experience at home. They gathered provisions for a long journey. I doubt travel by camel is very comfortable. They certainly encountered many different kinds of people on their way. Some were likely kind and generous. Others were probably not so friendly. They put themselves at great risk on this journey. Maybe it taught them more about relying on God. Maybe they encountered God each day in the different people they met, in beggars, and fellow travelers, refugees, and so forth. Maybe they noticed the presence of God more because they were out of their ordinary day to day routines. Sometimes you have to leave home to find it.
The Israelites found repentance and a reclaiming of their story during the time they were captive in Babylon, when Ezekiel was writing. They made a home in their new land and then found their home again when they returned to Jerusalem and rebuilt. David found his home again as he kept up his relationship with God, as he repented and continued to converse with God and worship God, even though he was ashamed of his previous behavior, even though he would rather have hid away. He found that even though he made mistakes, God was still with him, guiding and loving him and blessing him and correcting him.
Jesus seemed never to stay in one place for long. This is a testament to the availability and mobility of God. He didn't have a home in the sense of having a house, but he made his home among the people, and not the rich and powerful but ordinary everyday people, the poor and sick, women and children, tax collectors, fishermen, and so on. Our home, the presence of God in Jesus, traveled around in this world, even going beyond the grave to be with those who died, and then going on to the heavenly realm where we will all someday be united in the full presence of God.
For us now, home as the presence of God is anywhere the hungry are fed, where the sick find healing, where the lonely are visited, where malaria nets or warm quilts are distributed, where we share all we have, where we are kind and loving and generous, where all are included despite differences. Home isn't a place where we go, it is a place we make when we get out of our comfort zones, when we interact with people different from us, when we take a risk, we volunteer our talents and gifts, when we do something unexpected, when we let go of our own ideas of how thing should go, when we follow God's light and shining star despite the unlikelihood that anything good could ever be found by its glow.
Today we celebrate Epiphany, a festival day in the church calendar. The word epiphany means “Showing forth.” We may associate the word with an “ah-ha!” moment, the moment we finally get it. Today the star is illuminating the way to the infant Jesus, to the Messiah for the wise-ones, the foreigners. At the moment, we may or may not get it. But God is here just the same, illuminating our lives, showing us a better way. The presence of God is here. It always has been and always will be. That hasn't changed. But maybe something in us will change as we leave our homes, our comforts and possessions and strike out in search of something more, the state of mind that shows us that God is our home, that we are always welcome, and then help prepare that home to welcome others on an similar search.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Christmas Eve 2014
Gospel: Luke 2:1-20
1st Reading: Isaiah 9:2-7
2nd Reading: Titus 2:11-14
“In the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the word was God,” begins the Gospel according to John. His account links the story of Jesus to the beginning of Creation. In the beginning, God spoke and all creation came into being, God's every word coming to life, the planets and stars, the sun and moon, the land and sea, the animals and all creeping things bursting forth through God's imagination and creative power. Finally God created humankind in God's image, someone who would be aware of God, someone that God could talk to. We all know that God was not done creating in 6 days, nor is God done creating, yet.
The scriptures tell us, “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us.” God has a heart for this world and for all the people who have walked in darkness. God's love grows and grows. It isn't a kind of love that makes sense. The people hurt each other. They turn their back on God, on their values, on who they are, but still God's love grows. And God tries to show that love in so many ways. God tries guiding the people, speaking through prophets, granting kings to rule, giving a home, rescuing them, punishing them, teaching them, and so on. Some of this love is noticed and received and reciprocated, but much of it goes unnoticed. Still God has this love for the people, a heart bursting with love. God knows if the people knew they were so loved, they wouldn't treat each other so poorly, they'd value themselves, they would live loving lives. Finally God's love grows so strong, that it is literally born into this world. From God's heart comes this child, this human with a heart beating with love for all of us.
One of the most anticipated times for a couple who is pregnant, is hearing the heartbeat of the fetus for the first time. That fast-paced whooshing is hardly what we expected, especially after such a long search for the sound. It turned out our child was 3 weeks younger than they thought—a heartbeat much more difficult to find. Yet there it was. And it became reassuring each time we went in for exams leading up to our child's birth. And yet more reassuring after I took a fall in my 8th month and sat listening to that sound for 4 hours straight in the hospital. And finally listening to that sound on the day I gave birth, as they monitored us, a sound that gave me the strength to push with all my might to bring my baby into this world.
The heartbeat of one child was a miracle to us. They didn't have stethoscopes in Jesus' day, but I have watched, “Call the Midwife” and they did have something that they may very well have had in Jesus' time, a kind of cone shaped device that the nurse puts up to the enlarged belly of the mother through which they can hear the baby's heartbeat. The beating heart of God has been developing within the Christ child, a quick whooshing, sending blood and mother's nutrients from the umbilical cord throughout the body. These nutrients passed by the beating of the mother's heart to her child, the same mother's heart who pondered the announcement of the angel 9 months before, the same mother's heart which is pondering the words of the shepherd, the same mother's heart who will cradle this child close, the same mother's heart which will break when the world treats her son so cruelly. The fetal Jesus hears her heart beating, as he grows in the womb, and when he is born it will be one of the things that will calm him, as she holds the infant Christ to her chest, because of his familiarity with that reassuring sound.
I was curious to see, when I went shopping at Barnes and Noble for my 14 year old niece, a pen that you give to a child that will read the book to them in your voice. This would be the perfect gift if a parent has to be away for a long period of time, incarcerated or called up in the armed services or if grandma lives far away. I hope parents don't get lazy and let the pen read for them. I am all about reading and sometimes I get tired of reading “And the Cow Said Moo” to my child because I don't have to even look at the pages anymore, I've got it memorized, but there is something so miraculous about sitting down together with a book, reading, laughing, pointing out pictures, asking questions, and snuggling, holding a child close to our heart. I hope that this pen would only be used in emergencies. And I realize what a miracle it is that I live in a place and time when I am literate, that books are common and available to me, and that I have the time and resources to own hundreds of them and a happy, healthy child who still wants to sit and read with me. So rather than berate others, I will give thanks that I get to hold my child close and read to him, even if we are going to read, “And the cow said moo.” There is nothing like being there in person, and that is what God had in mind when God came to earth in Jesus Christ.
In person, God holds us close. We are God's children, and we are comforted by the sound of God's beating heart. To come as a child, to sneak into our hearts, to bring God's heart so close to us, to interact with us, to teach us, to laugh with us, to suffer with us, it is a miracle. We find ourselves close to the heart of God, listening to it beat with love for us and for all God's children and Creation, sharing stories together, interacting, loving, learning values, beating hearts affecting each other and growing in love.
When we really listen, we might realize that God still has a broken heart because God loves so deeply. God's heart is broken because there God's children are going hungry, because they live in slavery and fear, because their beating hearts are not valued, because we get so wrapped up in the beating of our own heart and whether it skips for joy because we own the latest gadget, or a new car, or fancy jewelry that we forget that our brothers and sisters need us and that their hearts beat with the love of God, too. God's heart breaks for every heart in Ferguson, for members of ISIS and their victims, for every drug lord and heroin addict, for every abusive parent and battered child, for all who walk in darkness, for a great light has shined, the light of Christ for every child of God, according to our Titus reading, “bringing salvation to all.”
It may seem that each of us has a heart that serves just one person. One heart for each body, but as God holds us close, may we remember the heart that God gave us, one that nourishes us, a miracle in itself, but also one that was open to others who are different, that felt compassion for those in need, and especially that was willing to quit beating out of great love for all Creation. God didn't come into this world with a beating heart to keep God's own heart beating, but so that ours would beat again with the familiar sound of God's heart, the sound of justice, the sound of joy, the sound of praise, the sound of love. Maybe we get so used to hearing it that we tune it out, and only notice it when it is absent, that quiet that sounds so loud after Jesus breathed his last. But Jesus' death didn't mean that God's love was gone, but only that it expanded to include all who had gone before and all who had died for all time.
So let us take a moment in this busy season to turn off the Christmas music, to stop moving for even an instant, to listen not for jingling bells but for the heartbeat of God. God is holding us close to God's own heart to tell us how much God loves us, to show us how much God loves all our brothers and sisters, how much God loves this beautiful world, and to give us the courage and strength and peace to glorify and praise God with every beat of our heart, until all have a chance to experience the heart of God and be enfolded in God's love.
1st Reading: Isaiah 9:2-7
2nd Reading: Titus 2:11-14
“In the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the word was God,” begins the Gospel according to John. His account links the story of Jesus to the beginning of Creation. In the beginning, God spoke and all creation came into being, God's every word coming to life, the planets and stars, the sun and moon, the land and sea, the animals and all creeping things bursting forth through God's imagination and creative power. Finally God created humankind in God's image, someone who would be aware of God, someone that God could talk to. We all know that God was not done creating in 6 days, nor is God done creating, yet.
The scriptures tell us, “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us.” God has a heart for this world and for all the people who have walked in darkness. God's love grows and grows. It isn't a kind of love that makes sense. The people hurt each other. They turn their back on God, on their values, on who they are, but still God's love grows. And God tries to show that love in so many ways. God tries guiding the people, speaking through prophets, granting kings to rule, giving a home, rescuing them, punishing them, teaching them, and so on. Some of this love is noticed and received and reciprocated, but much of it goes unnoticed. Still God has this love for the people, a heart bursting with love. God knows if the people knew they were so loved, they wouldn't treat each other so poorly, they'd value themselves, they would live loving lives. Finally God's love grows so strong, that it is literally born into this world. From God's heart comes this child, this human with a heart beating with love for all of us.
One of the most anticipated times for a couple who is pregnant, is hearing the heartbeat of the fetus for the first time. That fast-paced whooshing is hardly what we expected, especially after such a long search for the sound. It turned out our child was 3 weeks younger than they thought—a heartbeat much more difficult to find. Yet there it was. And it became reassuring each time we went in for exams leading up to our child's birth. And yet more reassuring after I took a fall in my 8th month and sat listening to that sound for 4 hours straight in the hospital. And finally listening to that sound on the day I gave birth, as they monitored us, a sound that gave me the strength to push with all my might to bring my baby into this world.
The heartbeat of one child was a miracle to us. They didn't have stethoscopes in Jesus' day, but I have watched, “Call the Midwife” and they did have something that they may very well have had in Jesus' time, a kind of cone shaped device that the nurse puts up to the enlarged belly of the mother through which they can hear the baby's heartbeat. The beating heart of God has been developing within the Christ child, a quick whooshing, sending blood and mother's nutrients from the umbilical cord throughout the body. These nutrients passed by the beating of the mother's heart to her child, the same mother's heart who pondered the announcement of the angel 9 months before, the same mother's heart which is pondering the words of the shepherd, the same mother's heart who will cradle this child close, the same mother's heart which will break when the world treats her son so cruelly. The fetal Jesus hears her heart beating, as he grows in the womb, and when he is born it will be one of the things that will calm him, as she holds the infant Christ to her chest, because of his familiarity with that reassuring sound.
I was curious to see, when I went shopping at Barnes and Noble for my 14 year old niece, a pen that you give to a child that will read the book to them in your voice. This would be the perfect gift if a parent has to be away for a long period of time, incarcerated or called up in the armed services or if grandma lives far away. I hope parents don't get lazy and let the pen read for them. I am all about reading and sometimes I get tired of reading “And the Cow Said Moo” to my child because I don't have to even look at the pages anymore, I've got it memorized, but there is something so miraculous about sitting down together with a book, reading, laughing, pointing out pictures, asking questions, and snuggling, holding a child close to our heart. I hope that this pen would only be used in emergencies. And I realize what a miracle it is that I live in a place and time when I am literate, that books are common and available to me, and that I have the time and resources to own hundreds of them and a happy, healthy child who still wants to sit and read with me. So rather than berate others, I will give thanks that I get to hold my child close and read to him, even if we are going to read, “And the cow said moo.” There is nothing like being there in person, and that is what God had in mind when God came to earth in Jesus Christ.
In person, God holds us close. We are God's children, and we are comforted by the sound of God's beating heart. To come as a child, to sneak into our hearts, to bring God's heart so close to us, to interact with us, to teach us, to laugh with us, to suffer with us, it is a miracle. We find ourselves close to the heart of God, listening to it beat with love for us and for all God's children and Creation, sharing stories together, interacting, loving, learning values, beating hearts affecting each other and growing in love.
When we really listen, we might realize that God still has a broken heart because God loves so deeply. God's heart is broken because there God's children are going hungry, because they live in slavery and fear, because their beating hearts are not valued, because we get so wrapped up in the beating of our own heart and whether it skips for joy because we own the latest gadget, or a new car, or fancy jewelry that we forget that our brothers and sisters need us and that their hearts beat with the love of God, too. God's heart breaks for every heart in Ferguson, for members of ISIS and their victims, for every drug lord and heroin addict, for every abusive parent and battered child, for all who walk in darkness, for a great light has shined, the light of Christ for every child of God, according to our Titus reading, “bringing salvation to all.”
It may seem that each of us has a heart that serves just one person. One heart for each body, but as God holds us close, may we remember the heart that God gave us, one that nourishes us, a miracle in itself, but also one that was open to others who are different, that felt compassion for those in need, and especially that was willing to quit beating out of great love for all Creation. God didn't come into this world with a beating heart to keep God's own heart beating, but so that ours would beat again with the familiar sound of God's heart, the sound of justice, the sound of joy, the sound of praise, the sound of love. Maybe we get so used to hearing it that we tune it out, and only notice it when it is absent, that quiet that sounds so loud after Jesus breathed his last. But Jesus' death didn't mean that God's love was gone, but only that it expanded to include all who had gone before and all who had died for all time.
So let us take a moment in this busy season to turn off the Christmas music, to stop moving for even an instant, to listen not for jingling bells but for the heartbeat of God. God is holding us close to God's own heart to tell us how much God loves us, to show us how much God loves all our brothers and sisters, how much God loves this beautiful world, and to give us the courage and strength and peace to glorify and praise God with every beat of our heart, until all have a chance to experience the heart of God and be enfolded in God's love.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
December 14, 2014
1st Reading: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Psalm: Luke 1:46-55
2nd Reading: Romans 16:25-27
Last year at the our gathering of Oregon Lutherans, one of the speakers used the image of the finger play we all learned as kids: Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people. He changed it to be this: Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and send out the people. If you would have asked me when I was a kid where is God's house, I would have said it was church, but I hope if we asked the kids or any of us today, we would point out into the world, to people who are in prison or suffering from Ebola or neglected children or our neighbor in need. That is God's house, within people all around us.
When King David wondered where God's house was, he pictured a beautiful house of cedar, with grand architecture and large stones and carvings. He pictured what would eventually become the temple. He was naturally grateful for all that God had done for him: Taken him from the pasture to make him a prince, been present with him throughout his life, cut off all his enemies, and made for him a great name. God had taken him from a nobody and made him a great king. Now David wants to thank him and his gift is to make him a dwelling, a fancy house, a grand mansion. God quickly dismisses the notion and then changes the subject, turns it back to David and what God has done for David.
Mary, too, was a nobody that God lavished with grace and favor. We assume that there was something really special about Mary that would make God approach her with this assignment to bear God's only Son. There isn't anything in the reading that indicates anything special about her. In fact it may be that like King David, it was her lowliness that got her the job. Now she will be a house for God until Jesus is born and a shelter for him during his childhood.
She doesn't have any cedar to offer to build God a house. All she can do is say, “Thank you!” and stand there dumbfounded and wonder at the mystery of God coming in this unexpected way. Some have said that Mary gave her affirmation—her yes. And yet, when the reading says “servant” the word is really “slave.” Instead of calling herself God's servant, she calls herself God's slave. This shows that this isn't really about her will, but God's. This is God's action, not Mary's, to be born into this world. She does give her affirmation, but that was just icing on the cake. That she gave it was a response to what God is doing in this world, and also it was an affirmation without all the information about what this would mean for her or for her son or for any of us.
God is so active and Mary so passive. But even King David was pretty passive when it came to being chosen by God to lead. Every time he does get active, he does something stupid that gets him in trouble. What does go well for each of these chosen lowly people is that the lines of communication are kept open between them and God and a dialogue goes on in which God is present and they try to understand what God is doing and respond to it appropriately. God keeps on acting despite their imperfection and keeps the plan of love on track.
Now, after Mary has had some time to think about what's going on with her, we get today's psalm, Mary's song to Elizabeth when she arrives at her home to find that what the angel has told her is true. Elizabeth, although she is pretty old, has conceived a child. Mary is pregnant. She's found a relative willing to take her in and care for her during her pregnancy. This is just the beginning of what the angel has been saying, that nothing is impossible with God.
Nothing is impossible. It is possible that the lowliest will be chosen for the most important jobs. It is possible that God would break into human existence. It is possible that a virgin and an old lady would become pregnant. It is possible that prayers uttered year after year would finally be answered. It is possible that God's relationship with people is challenging and compassionate. It is possible that Jesus won't have a house in which to be born or a house to minister from or lay his head, but that will make his ministry even better. It is possible that God doesn't need a cedar house or any building, but must be free to move about and be available for everyone. It is possible that he would show us how to feed and heal and love and do so for us, too. It is possible that we would put God to death and inflict such suffering upon Jesus that he would die. And it is possible that he would rise to forgive us and give us new life.
God doesn't need a house. God doesn't need protection. God needs to be free and available. It turns out that the buildings we make to glorify God, say more about us than about God. They are walls that make us feel safe. They are walls that create insiders and outsiders. They are monuments to ourselves and a show of our wealth. That God does something good from them is another indication that nothing is impossible with God. I've loved seeing the downstairs transformed to accommodate the pantry. For years that closet was full of useless papers and old equipment. What fun to dig through and make it relevant, useful space that actually gives glory to God, not because it is big or fancy, but because it enables food to move through our church and out to hungry people.
God's ideal house is not big or fancy, but it is utilitarian, made to serve and welcome people in need. And furthermore, God is promising David another kind of house. “You want to build me a house, David? I'll show you a house. This will be the kind of house that really lasts for all ages.” Not like the temple which has already been destroyed when Luke's Gospel was written. This is house in the sense of family and lineage, a family of misfits that God is building, starting with David and expanding to all outsiders and aliens and gentiles. This is a house built out of love and compassion, a house that will be made sure forever because of Jesus and the life that he gives to all of us. In God's house, those in power keep their mouths shut and get out of the way and the smallest and shyest are empowered to be front and center, take the most important roles and receive the most attention. As they gain in power, they get to pass that privilege and favor on to the new lowliest ones, until all share power and God is able to work through each one and be present to each one and make each one a home for God's love.
God's ideal house is not one where people sit around and sing praises to God, the way I used to think of church. It is a heart open, a people going out to find God in unexpected places, it is in fields of sheep, it is in a barren womb, it is within the young and the old, it is in us even when we don't get it. The think about David and about Mary is that they could have been any of us, that they are us. God is taking what is humble and undeveloped and fresh and raw within all of us and doing what God does best, breaking into our world, surprising us, turning our systems of power and strength on their heads, and leaving us speechless and completely dumbfounded.
As messed up as this world is, God is active and breaking in. 150 families were fed through the pantry with a Christmas ham, homemade cookies, and many other extras to make it special and when one family lost their ham voucher, a man with compassion gave his away. There is the amazing miracle of giving and thinking of others that happens this time of year, with food and gifts for kids and meals, and kindness. A family who has been trying for a pregnancy finds out twins are on the way. A child asks to be baptized. New friendships are formed. A country has a difficult conversation about race. Someone gives up driving their car for a week, a month, a year. Under the soil, seeds wait until conditions are right to grow. Someone learns to read. Someone plays beautiful music. Someone visits a sick relative. Someone apologizes for a wrong from long ago. Someone seeks healing in a broken relationship. God is breaking in. God is being born. Love is developing and is the size of a pineapple this week, the right size to sneak in to all our Christmas preparations, but growing and bringing light and newness.
We don't always respond appropriately. Sometimes we want to build a structure to box that in and capture it for a lifetime. Sometimes we don't know what to say. But our hearts are bursting with thanks and sometimes that's all we can say. And once it soaks in that really all things are possible with God, we may find our emotions need expression either in words or a song or an action or two that helps someone, or in a changed life, oriented toward going out and finding God on the absolute margins, among the weakest, the least refined, the most lowly. May you find God active in the world around you and in your life. May you let that love wash over you and affect you. May you respond in whatever way you do, letting God make something of that imperfect response and break down the walls of the temple, our church, our homes and our hearts, until we all know that we are in God's family, and that God's house is big enough for all of us.
Psalm: Luke 1:46-55
2nd Reading: Romans 16:25-27
Last year at the our gathering of Oregon Lutherans, one of the speakers used the image of the finger play we all learned as kids: Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people. He changed it to be this: Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and send out the people. If you would have asked me when I was a kid where is God's house, I would have said it was church, but I hope if we asked the kids or any of us today, we would point out into the world, to people who are in prison or suffering from Ebola or neglected children or our neighbor in need. That is God's house, within people all around us.
When King David wondered where God's house was, he pictured a beautiful house of cedar, with grand architecture and large stones and carvings. He pictured what would eventually become the temple. He was naturally grateful for all that God had done for him: Taken him from the pasture to make him a prince, been present with him throughout his life, cut off all his enemies, and made for him a great name. God had taken him from a nobody and made him a great king. Now David wants to thank him and his gift is to make him a dwelling, a fancy house, a grand mansion. God quickly dismisses the notion and then changes the subject, turns it back to David and what God has done for David.
Mary, too, was a nobody that God lavished with grace and favor. We assume that there was something really special about Mary that would make God approach her with this assignment to bear God's only Son. There isn't anything in the reading that indicates anything special about her. In fact it may be that like King David, it was her lowliness that got her the job. Now she will be a house for God until Jesus is born and a shelter for him during his childhood.
She doesn't have any cedar to offer to build God a house. All she can do is say, “Thank you!” and stand there dumbfounded and wonder at the mystery of God coming in this unexpected way. Some have said that Mary gave her affirmation—her yes. And yet, when the reading says “servant” the word is really “slave.” Instead of calling herself God's servant, she calls herself God's slave. This shows that this isn't really about her will, but God's. This is God's action, not Mary's, to be born into this world. She does give her affirmation, but that was just icing on the cake. That she gave it was a response to what God is doing in this world, and also it was an affirmation without all the information about what this would mean for her or for her son or for any of us.
God is so active and Mary so passive. But even King David was pretty passive when it came to being chosen by God to lead. Every time he does get active, he does something stupid that gets him in trouble. What does go well for each of these chosen lowly people is that the lines of communication are kept open between them and God and a dialogue goes on in which God is present and they try to understand what God is doing and respond to it appropriately. God keeps on acting despite their imperfection and keeps the plan of love on track.
Now, after Mary has had some time to think about what's going on with her, we get today's psalm, Mary's song to Elizabeth when she arrives at her home to find that what the angel has told her is true. Elizabeth, although she is pretty old, has conceived a child. Mary is pregnant. She's found a relative willing to take her in and care for her during her pregnancy. This is just the beginning of what the angel has been saying, that nothing is impossible with God.
Nothing is impossible. It is possible that the lowliest will be chosen for the most important jobs. It is possible that God would break into human existence. It is possible that a virgin and an old lady would become pregnant. It is possible that prayers uttered year after year would finally be answered. It is possible that God's relationship with people is challenging and compassionate. It is possible that Jesus won't have a house in which to be born or a house to minister from or lay his head, but that will make his ministry even better. It is possible that God doesn't need a cedar house or any building, but must be free to move about and be available for everyone. It is possible that he would show us how to feed and heal and love and do so for us, too. It is possible that we would put God to death and inflict such suffering upon Jesus that he would die. And it is possible that he would rise to forgive us and give us new life.
God doesn't need a house. God doesn't need protection. God needs to be free and available. It turns out that the buildings we make to glorify God, say more about us than about God. They are walls that make us feel safe. They are walls that create insiders and outsiders. They are monuments to ourselves and a show of our wealth. That God does something good from them is another indication that nothing is impossible with God. I've loved seeing the downstairs transformed to accommodate the pantry. For years that closet was full of useless papers and old equipment. What fun to dig through and make it relevant, useful space that actually gives glory to God, not because it is big or fancy, but because it enables food to move through our church and out to hungry people.
God's ideal house is not big or fancy, but it is utilitarian, made to serve and welcome people in need. And furthermore, God is promising David another kind of house. “You want to build me a house, David? I'll show you a house. This will be the kind of house that really lasts for all ages.” Not like the temple which has already been destroyed when Luke's Gospel was written. This is house in the sense of family and lineage, a family of misfits that God is building, starting with David and expanding to all outsiders and aliens and gentiles. This is a house built out of love and compassion, a house that will be made sure forever because of Jesus and the life that he gives to all of us. In God's house, those in power keep their mouths shut and get out of the way and the smallest and shyest are empowered to be front and center, take the most important roles and receive the most attention. As they gain in power, they get to pass that privilege and favor on to the new lowliest ones, until all share power and God is able to work through each one and be present to each one and make each one a home for God's love.
God's ideal house is not one where people sit around and sing praises to God, the way I used to think of church. It is a heart open, a people going out to find God in unexpected places, it is in fields of sheep, it is in a barren womb, it is within the young and the old, it is in us even when we don't get it. The think about David and about Mary is that they could have been any of us, that they are us. God is taking what is humble and undeveloped and fresh and raw within all of us and doing what God does best, breaking into our world, surprising us, turning our systems of power and strength on their heads, and leaving us speechless and completely dumbfounded.
As messed up as this world is, God is active and breaking in. 150 families were fed through the pantry with a Christmas ham, homemade cookies, and many other extras to make it special and when one family lost their ham voucher, a man with compassion gave his away. There is the amazing miracle of giving and thinking of others that happens this time of year, with food and gifts for kids and meals, and kindness. A family who has been trying for a pregnancy finds out twins are on the way. A child asks to be baptized. New friendships are formed. A country has a difficult conversation about race. Someone gives up driving their car for a week, a month, a year. Under the soil, seeds wait until conditions are right to grow. Someone learns to read. Someone plays beautiful music. Someone visits a sick relative. Someone apologizes for a wrong from long ago. Someone seeks healing in a broken relationship. God is breaking in. God is being born. Love is developing and is the size of a pineapple this week, the right size to sneak in to all our Christmas preparations, but growing and bringing light and newness.
We don't always respond appropriately. Sometimes we want to build a structure to box that in and capture it for a lifetime. Sometimes we don't know what to say. But our hearts are bursting with thanks and sometimes that's all we can say. And once it soaks in that really all things are possible with God, we may find our emotions need expression either in words or a song or an action or two that helps someone, or in a changed life, oriented toward going out and finding God on the absolute margins, among the weakest, the least refined, the most lowly. May you find God active in the world around you and in your life. May you let that love wash over you and affect you. May you respond in whatever way you do, letting God make something of that imperfect response and break down the walls of the temple, our church, our homes and our hearts, until we all know that we are in God's family, and that God's house is big enough for all of us.
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