How Will We Meet Him?

Matthew 2:13-23        

Let me tell you a story. It’s from a book called A Single Light, by Maia Wojciechowska.  The story takes place in Spain, but it could be anywhere. 

There was a small village that had once been important but no longer was; it had once been prosperous but no longer was.  A young man in this village went off to the city to find his fortune.  He didn’t find a fortune, but he did find a wife - Maria, whom he loved very much – and he brought her home to the village. 

Soon she was pregnant, a joyful thing, and gave birth to a child – a girl.  Maria loved her child and thought her perfect.  She would say, “Look how she never cries!  Only angels never cry.  My child must be an angel.”

Within a few months everyone in the village knew what Maria couldn’t see – that the child was deaf and mute.  She would never hear and she would never make a sound.  No one told Maria, though, because ever since the birth she had not been well.  It had taken such a toll on her body; she was in fact dying.

Before she died, she held her baby in her arms tightly.  Perhaps there was a part of her that knew the truth.  She kissed the baby and said, “You are a child of God, and God will take care of you all your life.”

After Maria’s death, her husband turned inward in his grief.  He had no love for his daughter; she seemed to him like a curse.  There was no kindness shown her from the village either, because she frightened them.  She had eyes that seemed to penetrate their souls. She seemed unnatural and they shunned her.  Only one woman, Flora, was willing to take this helpless infant and feed her and care for her. 

When the girl became old enough, Flora put her in charge of caring for her newborn.  Flora’s baby was born weak and sickly; he needed much care.  But Flora was poor, like most everyone else in the village, and there was little she could do.  She took the bus to the city every day to work at the canning factory.  Flora needed help with the baby.  And she could see what no one else in the village could see – that the deaf girl could be trusted with the baby. She would love and care for the infant as if he were her own.

And so she did.  The girl was the perfect caregiver for this baby.  She knew the child’s needs before he even cried out.  She was completely devoted to the baby. 

One day the baby was even more listless than usual.  The girl sensed something was wrong from the moment she lifted the baby out of his crib.  But she held him, she tried to feed him, she did all that could be done.  By the evening the baby’s heart stopped beating.  The baby’s body grew cold and yet the girl would not put him down.  She tried to warm him with her own body heat.  She couldn’t accept that this child was dead.

Flora didn’t blame her, but the rest of the village did, and now she was more of an outcast than ever before.  She was the focal point for all their fears and resentments, and they had so many of those.  She found refuge in the village church, where she was at least given bed and board and work to do.

One day while she was scrubbing the floor in the sanctuary, behind the altar, she hit a loose board in the wall.  It fell away and she noticed something hidden in there.  It was a marble statue of an infant.  She pulled it out and held it; it was about the same size as the baby boy she had cared for.  Somehow, this stone baby became a comfort to the girl and she returned to it every day. It was the one solace in her life – someone she could love.

At this same time and in another part of the world, there was a man named Larry who was an expert on art. Actually, he was only an expert on one artist – an Italian sculptor named Angellini.  Larry had devoted his life to the work of Angellini, and actually, to tell the truth, he had devoted his life to one work by this one artist.  Angellini had created a marble sculpture of the holy family, which was on display at the Vatican.  It was beautiful, but the child was missing from the statue.  It had been stolen many years before and never been found.  From the moment he encountered this statue, he felt he had found his purpose. Larry committed himself to finding the missing child.

His research eventually led him to the conclusion that it had probably been taken to Spain.  And so Larry spent his days traveling around Spain, visiting every church in every village, in search of the missing stone child.

One day, after many years of searching, his travels took him to this village.  He walked into the sanctuary without much hope, tired before he even began. He looked around at all the second-rate statuary in this poor country church.  The familiar sense of disappointment arose.  The girl was in the sanctuary going about her usual chores, ignoring him.  While he looked around, she went behind the altar and pulled out her baby from the hiding place. 

This was the bright spot of her days – to hold her baby, to play with him.  Some days she would bring him little gifts – things they could play with together, or something for him to wear.  As she sat down with the baby this day, the rest of the world faded away for her; she was alone with the child in a world of bliss. 

She pulled out a little mirror she had brought him.  When you held the mirror up at different angles, you could make lovely colorful prisms on the wall. 

Larry was about to leave the church when he saw a dancing colorful light out of the corner of his eye.  He followed the light behind the altar and there he saw the girl playing with the marble child.  She didn’t see him, she couldn’t hear him, so she had no idea he was there.  He stood behind her, silently watching. After a little while, she put her baby back into his hiding place and left.

Larry’s hands trembled as he reached in and took the baby out.  He knew it was the marble statue he had spent his life looking for.

At that point – all of the things you fear – all these things happened.  Larry was exhilarated!  At long last he had found his treasure. Looking for someone to share his excitement, he went to the village bar and told all the men gathered there about his great search and his wonderful find.  Everyone immediately starting fantasizing about how this village would once more be important, how it would once more be prosperous, thanks to the finding of this famous statue.  This morning, none of them had a clue who Angellini was.  This afternoon, they were making plans for the bright future he and his work promised them.

Very quickly, they arranged to have a glass case made so the statue could be displayed safely in the church, and they made a procession of all the important people as they carried it in and set it on the altar. This would make them famous; it would make them prosperous.

The next day as the girl went about her chores, she approached the glass case, curiously, and was stunned by what she saw – her precious baby imprisoned in a box.  Without thinking she crashed her hand through the glass. Feeling no pain, she pulled out the marble statue and held it to her body.  She ran from the church and kept on running. 

The following morning as they prepared for mass the broken case was discovered. They could not believe their eyes; the infant had once again been stolen.  The dream of becoming wealthy and famous was only two days old, but now that dream was crushed, and they were angry – more than they had ever been before.  All the anger that had built up in them over the years was now exploding.  All their resentment was boiling over.  They didn’t know how or from whom, but they wanted revenge.

Soon it was discovered the girl was missing too; a search party went out.  They didn’t even really know what their intentions were, they didn’t think; they were driven by one motivation: rage.

On their way, the old and the weak were trampled; a shepherd boy escaped within an inch of his life, and at least one man was struck down dead. It would not be too much to say that evil was on the loose.

While the mob was wreaking havoc all over the land, the priest and Larry set out together to find the girl, hoping and praying they would find her before the mob did.  Who was this girl? She was nothing but innocence. She had never been loved as a child should be loved yet had so much love to give. For the first time, the priest could see that this girl was a gift that had been given to them; somehow, she knew how to give love. Perhaps she could show them how to love.

And Larry was stricken with horror, looking at what he had unleashed in these people, by his single-minded focus on a stone object. For the first time, Larry could see that his obsession with the statue had alienated him from life, from the possibility of love. 

Larry and the priest found the girl before the others did, holding the marble baby. They would protect her from the mob. Yet the question remains to be answered: from this day on, how will the village be ruled? How will they live – by hate or by love? Will they allow love into their hearts, to wash over the hate that is destroying them? Will the love that is in this deaf and mute child be enough?

What do you think?

The Christ does not come to us as a stone figure or a concept or a doctrine.  The Christ comes to us as living, breathing humanity – just as he always did.  The question for us is: how will we meet him?

Two thousand years ago, the crowds met him with hate.  The powers tried to destroy him. But I know we can do better than that.

Photo: By Petar Milošević - Kunsthistorisches Museum, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44535302 

Incarnation

John 1:1-14        

If you are familiar with the C.S. Lewis story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, you know it is a winter story – a magical story. It is the kind of story we can hear better at Christmas time. We are, somehow, more ready to open our hearts and minds to the miraculous at this time of year.

The story is about four children who go through a magical wardrobe into another world, the land of Narnia, a place where it is always winter but never Christmas. This is the first story C.S. Lewis wrote in his series about Narnia, but it is not actually the beginning of the story – the whole story. There is another book Lewis wrote sometime later that gives the back story to The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It’s called The Magician’s Nephew.

The lion called Aslan first appears in The Magician’s Nephew. He enters a world that was utter darkness and nothingness. He opens his mouth and begins to sing. He sings in a manner that cannot be described but is, without doubt, the most beautiful sound ever. As he sings, a thousand bright stars appear in the sky all at once. Then there is light dawning on the horizon; the new sun appears. There is daylight.

The song changes and the land is filled with grass and mountains, trees and flowers. The song changes again and animals of all kinds begin to emerge from the ground, and the lion breathes and speaks life into them. The lion, Aslan, enters the world of nothingness and creates a world that is good. And we come to know Aslan as the one who always was; the one who was before the world began.

C.S. Lewis knew the gospel of John well.

The one who was before time began, this is the one – the Word – that became Jesus Christ.

In the beginning … John opens his gospel with the same words that open the holy scriptures in the book of Genesis. In the beginning …

In the beginning, John says, when God began creating the heavens and the earth, the word was with God … the Word was God … the Word became flesh. Incarnation.

And that is the heart of the matter. He came to the world as human flesh and blood to show us what humanity could look like. There were many ways God could have come, many ways God could have offered us salvation, but this was the way God chose to do it. God became one of us, and by doing that God showed us what we could be.

And what we could be is so much more than we know.

We underestimate what we are capable of. We use only a small portion of our brain power, we use less than our full strength, and we exercise only a small fraction of the heart-giving generosity we are capable of. We no longer remember what we are capable of.

But Jesus reminds us what we were created for.

In the beginning was the Word and the Word became flesh. And the Word made flesh lived among us, full of grace and truth.

The truth is that by the grace of Jesus Christ we may become more fully human ourselves. We remember the words from Genesis, that God created us in God’s image. Not that we look like God, but that our humanity holds the potential for us to be creatures that love and create and see a better vision for the world. We have lost sight of these things in the darkness in which we dwell, still today. But when Jesus was born into the world, he brought with him light – light that can renew our vision, inspire us with holiness, and begin to form something new out of this old clay.

The land of Narnia that Lewis created, in the cold, long winter of their suffering, was forgetting how they were created – how the song of creation had been sung; how the stars had been born, how creatures were brought forth from the earth and given the breath of life.

In the cold and dark corners of this world in which we live, people may forget also how the world was created in the power of love. But on this night, we remember how God came down for us in love.

When we light the lights of Christmas we remember. On this night of hushed reverence, we look to the light that broke through the darkness to remind us what we might be – of who we are and whose we are. The light, this night, urges each one of us to let Jesus Christ into our hearts to expand and fill them, and for us to become more fully human. This, my friends, is our salvation.

Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth. Amen.

Photo: By NASA, JPL-Caltech, J. Stauffer (SSC/Caltech) - NASA JPL, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9972634

Appearances

Isaiah 7:10-16    

Matthew 1:18-25        

It is good that we have a Sunday in Advent devoted to remembering Joseph. 

Joseph, the man who is the father – yet is not the father – of Jesus; Joseph, who doesn’t even get a mention in two of the four gospels; Joseph – the man who raised the Son of God.

How he must have struggled with emotion in those early days.  When he learns that the young woman he has chosen for his wife is somehow pregnant.  And he knows it wasn’t him. 

How he must have fought down all kinds of feelings while he struggled to determine how he would respond to this news.  He knew, of course, that the law would support him if he chose to have her publicly exposed and condemned as an adulterous woman.  Because even though they were not yet married, they were betrothed to one another, something that was as good as married in the eyes of God’s law.  So here was evidence that Mary was a sinful woman.  And according to the law, she could be sentenced to death by stoning.  I wonder – was there a streak of vengeance in Joseph’s heart that would have wanted that?

Perhaps, fleetingly.  But the love in his heart was stronger, for instead of throwing himself behind the full weight of the law, he determined that what he would do would be much kinder and more compassionate in nature.  He would quietly break off the engagement.  There would be no high drama, no public accusations. 

It would not be right for him to marry a woman who had already known another man – whoever he might be – it was right that he should let her go.  But at the same time, I think Joseph hoped in his heart that Mary and her child would be all right.  If God is merciful, may she and her unborn child be all right.

Although the gospel doesn’t tell us any of this – how Joseph felt, how he arrived at his decision.  Only that he was a righteous man, and this we can see from his actions. As for the rest, we are only left to imagine.  But couldn’t any man imagine the feelings Joseph must have struggled to contain?  Doesn’t any woman imagine the ordeal Joseph must have suffered?

And while in the thick of this struggle with himself, Joseph is visited by an angel.  The angel is right on time, as angels usually are.  They come when their help is needed – anyone who has ever seen It’s a Wonderful Life knows that – and Joseph clearly needed some help at this point in his life.  He is a righteous man, and righteous men know when they need some wisdom beyond their own. He is faced with carrying out some difficult decisions, the kind of decisions he probably never really thought he would have to make.

Maybe when he was a boy he and the other boys would have hung around and talked about girls.  Maybe, puffing themselves up with pride, they talked a tough game about how they would keep her in line. 

But now Joseph doesn’t feel so tough, so proud.  Real life turns out to be so much messier than we thought it would be.  So an angel arrives to shed a little clarity on the situation, and offer a little comfort and strength. 

And, as angels always do, this one counseled Joseph to not be afraid.  Angels are accustomed to dealing with fearful humans.  It happens to them all the time, whenever they come around.  If you have ever been visited by an angel, the authentic cherubim and seraphim, these unearthly beings, you understand why. 

The angel said to him, “Joseph, it’s all right.  Continue with your plan to marry this woman because this child she is carrying is a miracle.  The Holy Spirit is at work in Mary’s life, and this little one will be the savior of his people.  Do as you had planned; marry this woman because it is God’s desire for you to do so.”

And, just to be helpful, the angel might also have said, “This little boy that Mary is carrying will need a father, like all boys do.  And this woman, Mary will need a partner, like all mothers do.  She will need someone who will protect her and her child, someone she can depend on, someone she can make a family with.  And Joseph, you are the man to do it.  So marry this woman.  Marry her.”

And so when Joseph awoke from his dream he remembered what he had heard from the angel of the Lord, everything; and he may not have known this yet, but his troubles were only just beginning.

Imagine the scandal!  Imagine how this appeared to their friends and neighbors when Joseph married a pregnant virgin (virgin! Yeah, right.)  Imagine how Mary felt!  Luke’s gospel tells about her rapture at hearing the news and her joyful song of glory to God. 

My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed. 

And it’s wonderful that Mary was so receptive to this.  But I’m betting that after she had a little time for the reality to sink in, and after she had to think about how she would tell her mom and dad, and after she had the chance to imagine how the neighbors would gawk at her when she started showing…then I wonder how Mary felt.

And imagine how Joseph felt!  Even after the rage or hurt or humiliation or however you would describe the feeling of finding out Mary was pregnant, Joseph would realize he was in for more.   That all the humiliation Mary would experience…every bit of it…he was going to have a share in too.  To all appearances, things looked very bad.  Even though things were not really the way they appeared to be.  Nobody was going to believe their story – were they?

No one was going to say, “Well, now that I think of it, the prophet Isaiah did say that such a thing would happen.”

No one was going to say that. 

I doubt Mary and Joseph even tried to explain it to people.  You can imagine the expressions on faces: disapproval changing to disbelief to ridicule and even pity. 

And this was only the beginning.

We all know that having a baby is only the beginning of a lifelong work.  From that moment forward, for as long as they live, mothers and fathers are traveling through all the ups and downs, the joys and the sorrows of family life.  And if their children die before them, a most unacceptable thing, the loss is always with them.

We never hear another word about Joseph, and I suspect this is, at least in part, the result of a sense of awkwardness, even a sense of shame.  Joseph, more than Mary, probably had to live with the scorn others heaped on him – and the delicate and uneasy position we have left him in, in which we are not sure he is worthy of the title “father.”

May God forgive us for our failures to honor Joseph, a righteous man through and through.  If this world needs anything, it needs more righteous men.

I am glad that we have a Sunday in Advent devoted to Joseph.  We are given an opportunity to see that this family was not just a cardboard cutout.  This family was real, with all the human frailties we know – the struggles, the fears, the joys, and all the uncertainties of life.  This moment with Joseph asks us to contemplate the sheer humanity at the foundation of this mysterious event we prepare for.  This moment with Joseph invites us to recognize the common humanity we share with this holy family.  And we do.

May Joseph be praised as the righteous man he was.  A man who loved the woman God had given him more than he loved his reputation, more than he cared about appearances.

May we know how precious and valuable is the gift Joseph gave to Mary and Jesus, and may we honor all the men and women who make righteous commitments as Joseph did.

And – should you ever be so blessed as to be visited by an angel – may you not be afraid, and please follow the angel’s advice.

Photo: Father and Son. By Adam Jones from Kelowna, BC, Canada - Haredi (Orthodox) Father and Son - Tsfat (Safed) - Galilee - Israel, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35365135

Still Waiting

Isaiah35:1-10    

Matthew11:2-11        

Food trucks have been around for a very long time, but in recent years they have really gone upscale, with dishes rivaling fine restaurants. In some cities there are areas set up where food trucks congregate, around some picnic tables, making an outdoor food court on a gravel patch. People flock to them.

They were popular in Dayton, Ohio when we lived there. We encountered some food truck connoisseurs loved to talk about their favorites, and one of these at the time was a certain hot dog truck. Zombie Dogs. At food festivals you might see hundreds of people lined up for this one. People would wait two hours in line for a Zombie Dog. And then they would rave about how good they were. They were “amazing” or “to die for.” Best hot dogs ever.

However, it is my opinion that if someone has waited in line two hours for a hot dog, what else are they going to say? “It was okay. Not sure it was worth the two hours of my life. But my time isn’t worth a whole lot and I’m a pretty patient woman. So it was okay.”

No one’s going to say that. We’d like to believe that the things we have done were worth it. We want to believe that the things we have devoted our time and money and commitment to have been worthy of it. We want to believe that we didn’t really make a mistake.

Which is why it is remarkable that John the Baptizer is so frank with his doubts.

“Are you the one, or are we to wait for another?” John wants to know. Did he make a mistake when he pointed to Jesus? Has he wasted his life, preparing people for this man whom he believed to be the long-awaited Messiah? Has he put his life on the line for the wrong man? John wants to know. It’s important.

He thought his work was done. His ministry had accomplished what it was meant to accomplish. But sitting in Herod’s prison with way too much time on his hands and nothing to occupy his hands, John is plagued by second thoughts.

His mind is not at peace, because he is afraid he has given his commitment to the wrong man. And that the long-awaited messiah is still out there somewhere, waiting for John – or someone like John – to make a way for him.

And we might wonder why he is experiencing these doubts. Perhaps simply because he doesn’t have enough to occupy his mind. But perhaps it is because he is not seeing evidence of what he expected the messiah to do and be.

John is just not sure. The expectations that were set forth by the prophets of Israel have not been met. The desert is still dry. The jackals still slaughter the gazelles. Humans still wage war on one another. The world is still broken. So there is reason to question: Are you the one, Jesus; the one we have been waiting for?

John expressed the doubts that many people had. And truthfully, the doubts have never gone away.

We might not think about them on most ordinary days, but there are moments in life when the doubts cannot be denied. I am reminded of Henry Longfellow’s poem, Christmas Bells.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play, 
and wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom 
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Beautiful images. But Longfellow had more to say:

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said; 
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Longfellow wrote these words on a Christmas day during the middle of the American Civil War. It was, I imagine, a time when hopes for peace were deeply challenged. Surely there were many who had a hard time keeping their doubts at bay. For many, songs of peace rang hollow.

Much like John the Baptizer, who, wasting away in Herod’s prison, was beginning to feel hollowed out.

He sent his disciples to speak with Jesus. To ask him directly. Are you the one we have been waiting for? Or should we wait for another? Are you going to do it, Jesus, the things we have been waiting for? Or should we keep looking?

Their questions provoked Jesus to speak to the crowds in a challenging way. He asked them some of his own questions: What were you waiting for? What were you looking for? What is it you wanted to see? A reed swayed by the wind, whatever way the wind is blowing? Someone dressed in soft robes, red-carpet-ready? What were you looking for – to be entertained?

The questions are still worthy of being asked. What are we waiting for? What are we looking for? What are we expecting out of this season of Advent and Christmas?

A church in southern California has been in the news recently for the nativity display they erected outside their church. Mary, Joseph, and the infant are each set in their own cage, separated from one another. The baby is swaddled in a mylar blanket. The message is clear.

This congregation is asking the question: What if this family, who were refugees in their own time, sought refuge here today?

Some have criticized them for putting an ugly face on the holiday. Some have criticized them for dragging politics into the holiday. Some have criticized them for being attention seekers. Of course, it’s clear they were looking for attention; otherwise they might have put the display inside their building. But outdoor displays are always seeking attention, and it’s really a matter of what message they want to draw attention to. This congregation chose to draw attention to the plight of refugees in our land, and to declare their belief that this is a sign of the kind of brokenness Jesus came to fix, to heal, to redeem.

No question, it is political. But here’s the thing: There is so much we are seeing in the world that causes all kinds of pain. We are angry, we are sad, we are worried. We are sick with grief. But because we cannot fix it, we ignore it. We push it aside. Yet it doesn’t go away. And the pain – the anger, the sorrow, the worries, they don’t go away.

Maybe that is why there is so much grief just below the surface of our holiday cheer. If people of faith cannot look at the things that plague us through a lens of faith, then what is our faith for? Indeed, it is only when we can see the suffering in the world – our own and others – through the eyes of faith, is there any hope for the suffering to be healed.

So what do we, as the church, want to say to the world during this season?

Does our message of hope honestly acknowledge the suffering, the hopelessness that is in our midst?

Does our message of peace hold up against the real ugliness of war in our world?

Does our message of love look unflinchingly at the cruel treatment of human beings, including the systematic mistreatment at the hands of government?

People of faith do not have the luxury of compartmentalizing. Because we have a savior who was born into the most precarious of circumstances, vulnerable and at the mercy of those with cruel power. We have a savior who suffered in ways that is too hard for most of us to imagine. Our faith story doesn’t float above the fray – it lives right down in the thick of it. And it cuts right through the worst the world has to give.

The world will continue to wage war. It will continue to show cruelty beyond comprehension. But the gospel of Jesus Christ cuts a swath right through it. Hear the words of Jesus: Open your eyes to see; unstop your ears to hear; understand: the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed. The deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive good news.

One person at a time.

Yes, the world is still broken. But if we open our eyes, unstop our ears, understand, we might be a part of the healing.

Photo: In the WaitingRoom. By Helen Gatch - https://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/ds.00168/, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77365348

Doing A New Thing

Matthew 3:1-12

Some years ago I was in my office at the university where I served as campus minister – and a student named Brad came in.  He told me he was working with a congregation in a nearby town, called ebc – that’s all lowercase letters.  Previously, they had been known as Emmanuel Bible Chapel, but the new name, ebc, was a part of their rebranding effort.  He told me ebc is much more “user friendly” than their old name. 

Brad explained to me that he was a marketing major and was working with the church to help them grow and achieve their goal to become a multi-campus church.  This is how it would work.  The church establishes satellite congregations they call campuses where they have a local worship team, which is primarily responsible for music and also prayer.  The head pastor is at the flagship campus where he preaches every Sunday to an in-house congregation.  But his sermons are also broadcast to the other campuses on a jumbo screen. 

What Brad wanted from me was help in getting a church campus established on the university campus.  They wanted ebc to be the university church. He struck me as an unusually confident young man; all armed with marketing research facts. Brad had a plan, and the confidence that it would work.  In the end it didn’t work. They didn’t get to plant a church on campus. But they didn’t give up; instead they went to our local public elementary school.  The school gladly rented them the gym on Sunday evenings so they were off and running.  New stylish banners were hung out around the school every Sunday afternoon with their logo – “ebc: re-discover church.”

They recruited some university students to become a part of their worship team there, including one of the students from my campus ministry leadership team.  One day I asked him to tell me what this church was like.  He told me this: their whole focus is on getting the Word out – the good news of Jesus Christ, so they don’t do extras…like service.  You know, feed the hungry, clothe the poor, comfort the afflicted – that sort of thing.  Because their sole mission is getting the gospel out to the people.  That, they believe, is their entire purpose, and they don’t want anything else to get in the way or detract from it.

And I thought – excuse me?   Are you saying that serving the needy is an extra?  Are you saying that feeding the hungry is a frill, which the church of the 21^st century ought to seriously consider getting away from?

I wanted to know what this “getting the word out” consisted of.  I thought about attending one of their services.   A friend of mine, the Christian Education Director at the local Presbyterian Church was also curious.  She had encountered them in the halls of the elementary school one day when they were doing some advance work, and she managed to corner one of the guys and asked him what kind of church they were, what sort of doctrine and practices they had – that sort of thing. The poor guy squirmed and hemmed and hawed. He was like, I just play in the praise band.  So my friend thought she might stop in on a Sunday evening and see for herself. 

Neither of us did, though. It just seemed too weird to go spying on their worship gatherings.

We would have been like the Pharisees and the Sadducees skulking down by the river bank among John’s disciples to check things out. 

You have to wonder why those Pharisees and Sadducees were there.   It’s clear they weren’t really welcome.  John knows they haven’t come for the most authentic reasons. 

Were they checking out the competition?  That’s a possibility.  Because John was a wild man and didn’t seem to be wearing the Rabbinic seal of approval on his camel-hair tunic.  I don’t think his ministry had been blessed by the Pharisees and the Sadducees.  He was doing something new and radical. And it was really catching on. 

It wouldn’t surprise me if the Pharisees and Sadducees were a little worried, about what John was doing.  Because he was doing something different in the name of the God of Israel.  And it wasn’t just superficially different – it was radical.

And this scenario bears more resemblance to our world today than you might have thought at first glance.

Change is happening in the church – this is fact.  I like to talk with people about change in the church, but it’s interesting to me that the conversation always seems to go right to the same place: music. Whenever we talk about changes in the church the first thing we think about is music – different music styles.  Worship wars are fought around the topic of music, because so much is invested in it.  Once I had a woman tell me, “If this church becomes a clapping church then I’m leaving.”   I can imagine some people saying the same thing about drums, or electric guitars, or big screens.

But on the other hand, we seem to think that it’s the music that must change if we want to connect with a younger generation.  So we dread the day when we walk in here and see the giant screen over the cross, or a rock band up in the choir loft. 

The great concern behind all this is being relevant.  Of course, being relevant is important, because being irrelevant is not good.  But changing out the organ for a praise band and a big screen doesn’t make you relevant.  You don’t have to copy what some other church is doing in order to be relevant.  There’s nothing authentic about that. 

The change that we are asked to make in order to be relevant, to be preparing for Jesus, is much bigger than bringing in a praise band and a big screen. 

The church of Jesus Christ is all about transforming lives.  New songs are good, but it takes more than new songs to transform lives.  It takes more than a slick new logo and colorful banners to transform lives.  It takes real connection with people and the lives they find themselves living in the world we all find ourselves inhabiting together.

ebc was sincerely trying to reach the people of their region with the gospel message, but the problem was they were doing superficial things when what was really needed was much, much more.  It didn’t last.  Sunday night worship at the school fizzled out in the spring when the college students went home and I guess by the fall, when they returned, everybody had moved on to something new.

Our worship needs to really connect with the gospel (and of course, serving those in need is at the heart of the gospel. What else is good news?).  And our worship also needs to really connect with our lives.  That is to say, our worship needs to connect our lives with the gospel.

And if we’re doing that, we are as relevant as we need to be.

So that is why the Pharisees and the Sadducees had come skulking around to see what John was up to.  John was doing something real; he was offering the people a baptism of repentance – an invitation to change their hearts and their lives; an invitation to prepare for the new things God was getting ready to do in the world.  It was totally new, what John was doing, and it was totally authentic.  So much so that Jesus, himself, came to John for that baptism. 

This was a new thing for a new age.  And we, my friends, are also standing on the threshold of a new age; a time when the old practices, the old songs and, yes, even the old doctrines, will need to stretch and live into a new age.

So I want to get the Word out, too.  I want to get the word out that we must shed our complacency.  It will not be enough to say, “this is my church,” no more than it was enough for the Pharisees to say, “Abraham is our father.”  I want to get the word out that God really is doing a new thing in the world today and the Spirit wants to stir you up.  The Spirit wants you to dream dreams and see visions.  The Spirit of God urges us to know that there is much more than what we can see around us, that God wants to do in the world.

I want to get the word out that we must prepare ourselves for our Savior, who is as near to us as our next breath.  I want to get the word out.  The Spirit is here; the Spirit is calling us.  Let us prepare our hearts to listen and respond.

In the Waiting

Matthew 24:36-44      

Jesus is coming. Are you ready?

And as I ask this question, you might be thinking of all your lists. Shopping lists, baking lists, card lists. You might be thinking of your calendar dates– concert dates, dinner dates, party dates, arranging flights or picking up folks at the airport dates. You might be squirming in your pew as you realize just how not-ready you are.

I sometimes feel like I need to apologize to the church for Advent. While our heads are full of Christmas, the church is saying, let’s talk about something else, because it’s not Christmas yet. This is jarring. Because everywhere else you look, Christmas is in full swing. On TV, on the radio, in the stores, everywhere you go. The culture is at least a month ahead of us on the calendar. It all comes so early and lasts so long, we feel done with it before it even arrives.

And I wouldn’t care so much, except that we risk losing the whole season of Advent in all of it. And that matters. Because Advent is not just the countdown to Christmas. Advent has a purpose all its own. And it has gifts of its own to give us.

Outside the church, Advent means nothing – except maybe those calendars with little windows you can open each day – preferably with some chocolate inside. And I have heard there is a grown-up version with wine. I can’t imagine how they get the wine in those little windows, but it does sound good. Anyway, aside from the calendars, there’s nothing else. So the good news here, Church, is that Advent belongs solely to us. We don’t have to fight the commercial empire for the meaning of Advent. They don’t want it. It’s all ours.

It’s all ours. What would you like to do with it?

Well, just in case you’re not sure, just in case you have some questions about what Advent is all about, let me try to address some of them: 

·        Advent seems kind of somber.  Is it a time of penitence, like Lent, where we have to feel sorry for everything we ever did wrong?  Not exactly, no.  It is contemplative, however. A time for prayer, for meditation, for thoughtfulness. Advent asks us to leave some room for quiet.

·        Is it a time to decorate the sanctuary?  That depends on where you are and whom you ask. Some churches wait, other churches pull out all the stops by December 1. And some will try to split the difference. It’s a struggle.

·        Is it a time to sing Christmas carols?  That is a touchy one, and again, it’s going to depend on whom you ask. I’m telling you, the struggle is real.

·        Ok, tell us the truth now – is it just one of those things the church does to take the fun out of life?  No comment.

·        One last question: is it mandatory?  Or can we opt out and just skip ahead to Christmas?  I was once at a church where they had all the church paraments in all the traditional liturgical colors, and they used them appropriately, for the most part.  But when December rolled around they said forget that liturgical stuff, and they pulled out the Pentecost red paraments because they looked so much better with the Christmas poinsettias.
So, actually, no, for Presbyterians Advent is not mandatory.  I think the better question would be:  Is it useful?

Advent is useful, because it is a season of preparing.  But it’s not exactly a season of preparing for Christmas.  It’s a time of preparing for the coming of Christ – and that is different. Preparing for the coming of Christ is much more than preparing for Christmas.  In this season we are consciously, intentionally, preparing for him – on multiple levels.  That becomes very clear this week as we read the Matthew passage together.

Here we are in Matthew 24 – nowhere near the Christmas story. Jesus is with his disciples in Jerusalem talking with them about the end of the age.  Otherwise known as the end of the world.  Also known as the apocalypse.  Joyful stuff, it is not. Famines, earthquakes, suffering of every kind. And the disciples ask him, probably with quivering voices, “When will all this happen?”  Anyone would want to know.  Anyone would want to have some warning, to have a chance to be prepared. “Will there be a sign?  Will you give us a heads up?”

And, of course, his answer is, “No one knows; no one.”  So just be ready, because the Son of Man could come at any time.  The end of the world as we know it could come at any time.

So, yes, here we are on the first Sunday of Advent talking about what it means to observe this season of preparation, this time of getting ready for Christ, and the message for us is to be ready for something that could happen at any moment.  But no one knows just when that will be.  And, by the way, it’s not the thing that most of us are preparing for.

Just what should we be preparing for?

The end of the age, which will come about at some unknown time in the future?

The coming of the Christ child, which happened 2000 years ago, but something that we wait for with great anticipation every single year?

Or, perhaps just as much, the reality of Christ speaking to your heart, the everyday nearness of his presence?

Yes, yes, and yes. It is fair to say that we are asked, right now at this moment, to be preparing for all these things.    It’s also fair to ask, how?

Probably the best way to prepare is simply to do the things we are already doing – faithfully.

We don’t stop everything to prepare for the coming of Christ. Some have tried that, and eventually they realized that they were going to have to continue working – continue preparing meals, caring for one another, planting gardens, fixing their cars, repairing their roofs. They would need to continue living their lives.

The point of this message on being ready is to say be faithful in the everyday things, be expecting the reign of God. We must continue feeding hungry people, sheltering homeless people, doing the work of the kingdom while we are waiting for the kingdom.

The great Narnia stories by C.S. Lewis are a brilliant parable on the Christian story. There is a fearsomely wonderful Lion called Aslan at the center of them.  Aslan is the creator and the redeemer of the land of Narnia and all Narnia’s creatures.  Most of the time, Aslan is not seen or heard, but occasionally someone is heard saying, “Aslan is on the move.”

Aslan is on the move, they would say to one another in hushed tones.  Something wonderful is coming because Aslan is on the move.

Beloved, this is the message for us – something wonderful is coming. Jesus is on the move. God is on the move.

When God is on the move in the world, marvelous things happen.  From the prophets of Israel, we see visions of new and powerful energy breaking through; and we see a new kind of economy taking form, in which swords are converted to plowshares.  The weapons of war will be transformed into tools for feeding the world.

And in our present moment, perhaps the most useful meaning to hear in this passage is to be ready at all times to see God on the move in the world. 

We see God on the move whenever and wherever we see compassion winning over selfishness and greed…when we see evil defeated by the power of love.  These things happen.  And being ready for Christ means being ready to be a part of that action.

If you ask me what our purpose is as a community of faith, I would say that this is one: to watch and be ready to spring into action; to respond to the work of the Holy Spirit when we see it.  When God is on the move, we are called to join the movement: serving our neighbors in need, teaching our children peace rather than war, practicing love toward all, even our enemy. 

When the Holy Spirit blows, our task is to make good use of that wind.  The Spirit blows; and then it’s our move.  When someone walks through our doors – it’s our move.  When someone in need crosses our path – it’s our move (need comes in all shapes and forms, and we can recognize it because we are all in need too).  And so we wait – for the movement of the Spirit of God – then respond.

In Advent we wait, but the waiting is anything but passive. It is a waiting in which we make some space in our lives to watch, to listen, to be aware. It is a waiting that is marked by attentiveness to the movement of the Spirit, and expectation of the presence of the Christ, who is coming. It is a waiting that is full to overflowing with love. Love is what we are waiting for; love is already here.

Jesus is coming. Are you ready?

There are some things you can never really be ready for. I dare say Mary was not ready for Jesus when he came. She was merely expecting. As we all are expecting. We are expecting Jesus to come again as he promised, as we are also expecting him to be with us every single day. We are expecting the kingdom of God to come, bringing the reign of love and healing to all the earth, as we are expecting to be a part of a movement toward justice, by whatever means the Spirit empowers us to do so.

As we begin this Advent season, let us prayerfully, faithfully, expectantly, lovingly – wait.