Epiphany 2, C

John 2:1-11

Today, a wedding. Can you believe that some people don’t like weddings? All that that rejoicing and feasting and dancing and some people just don’t like it. My father actually offered at one point to pay me to elope – he was that anxious to avoid the whole wedding hoop-dah-lah. I think I was in junior high at the time. Even some clergy don’t like weddings. The chance to participate in one of the momentous times in two peoples’ lives, and they just don’t..like…it. It’s not the marriage – that is a joyous sacrament – it’s the wedding. It’s all the emotion and conflicting expectations wrapped up in that focused, brief period. It’s the extraordinary expense and extensive planning and endless preparation dedicated to one day – a day as subject to the capriciousness and foibles of life as any other day.

A wedding today, a wedding and wine. Not just some wine. An enormous amount of wine. Six jars – each of those jars would have held about 20-30 gallons of wine. A wedding, and about 180 gallons of very good wine.

But the story isn’t really about the dress or the flowers or the lovely music or even the couple at all. The story is about Jesus.

The only place this story appears is in the book of John. More than any of the other Gospel writers, John is all about mystery and meaning, symbolism and metaphor. John persistently emphasizes Jesus the Christ over Jesus of Nazareth; divinity over humanity. John tells us stories of Jesus’s words and actions – not so that we know what Jesus said or did, but so that we might know what Jesus means.

Somehow we go from “In the Beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” to John the Baptist’s prophetic voice in the wilderness crying “Behold the Lamb of God” to joining Jesus at an ordinary wedding in a dusty little town, resisting his mother’s attempts to make him help out an unfortunate couple with the misfortune to run out of wine.

Now, Mary was a good mom. We don’t know what Mary’s relationship to this couple was. There is an old legend that she was the bride’s aunt. Maybe she just felt bad for them. Running out of wine at a wedding was an unforgivable sin. You think today’s weddings can become crazy big complicated affairs, but in first century Jerusalem, these events lasted for days – they were THE break in the meager fare of ordinary life. Running out of wine was unforgivable – the couple would be done before they had even ever begun.

“Jesus. Fix it.”
“No, Mom. It’s not time. This is not the time for me to show the world what I really am”

Mary gives Him the Mom look. You know the one. The bible doesn’t tell us she gives him the Mom look. I’m not sure there is a good Greek translation for the mom look, but you know she gives it to Him. Because He fixes it. And she knows He’s going to fix it.

This is hardly on the level of healing the sick, feeding the 5,000, curing the blind, casting out demons. It’s about wine, about extravagance, about plentifulness. The story is about Jesus.

Marcus Borg wrote, “The story of Jesus is about a wedding. And more: it is a wedding at which the wine never runs out. More: it is a wedding at which the best wine is saved for last.” (Marcus Borg, Jesus) Jesus, importantly, does not follow His own timetable. In this, the first of His signs, He responds, not to His own preferences, but to the real and ordinary and present need of others. The story, the Gospel is about Jesus, yes. Jesus is about abundance for all, about joy and love, about responding to the ordinary realities of human life.

I don’t know how much attention you pay to the worldwide Anglican scene. It turns out that we (by “we” I mean The Episcopal Church, USA, not Holy Trinity in particular) are in a bit of trouble within the Anglican Communion, our parent church – trouble at least on par with running out of wine at a wedding. Appropos to this morning’s reading, it is weddings, or rather, the church’s stance on marriage, that has landed us there. The Episcopal Church has made it possible for same-sex couples to be married within the church. The Anglican Communion does not agree with that decision, and has sanctioned TEC for a period of three years because of it. Whatever your thoughts on the subject of same-sex marriage (that is one of the joys of the Episcopal Church – we can all worship together while holding wildly different views), what I’m interested in right at this moment is the response. TEC could have repudiated its stance on gay marriage. Presiding Bishop Curry instead confirmed it saying “Our commitment to be an inclusive church is not based on a social theory or capitulation to the ways of the culture, but on our belief that the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross are a sign of the very love of God reaching out to us all.” Bishop Curry, an African American, went on later in his response to say, “I stand before you as your brother. I stand before you as a descendant of African slaves, stolen from their native land, enslaved in a bitter bondage, and then even after emancipation, segregated and excluded in church and society. And this conjures that up again, and brings pain. The pain for many will be real. But God is greater than anything. I love Jesus and I love the church. I am a Christian in the Anglican way. And like you, [as we have said in this meeting], I am committed to ‘walking together’ with you…” TEC could have turned on its heel and walked away with its membership and considerable financial support. Instead, it reached out to the hands that had smacked it and said, let us walk together. It is not water from wine, but it is the Jesus way.

Jesus brings abundance in scarcity, joy in despair, light in the darkness, a body of believers where divergent individuals stood before.

“True love is delicate and kind, full of gentle perception and understanding, full of beauty and grace, full of joy unutterable. There should be some flavor of this in all our love for others. We are all one. We are one flesh in the Mystical Body as man and woman are said to be one flesh in marriage. With such a love one would see all things new; we would begin to see people as they really are, as God sees them.” (Dorothy Day)

May we open our eyes and hearts to the abundance of love. Amen

1 Epiphany C, 2016

Isaiah 42:1-9

Luke 3:15-16, 21-22

[Spoiler alert: 
much of this sermon comes from a sermon I wrote in 2004]

This morning we have heard about Jesus being baptized in the Jordan by John the Baptist. This event marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. It’s a pivotal point between the mostly private life Jesus led as a child and young adult, and his public life. We know almost nothing about his private life. The gospels tell us about his public one.

I wonder if this moment on the Jordan, when God claims Jesus as his beloved son, is the moment when Jesus first realizes his call, understands his mission, and accepts his role as servant. There’s no way to know this for sure, but it’s certainly possible. There’s no doubt that this is an epiphany moment for Jesus. Think about it; how would you have reacted if the heavens opened and the Spirit descended like a dove at your baptism?

Many scholars believe Jesus became a disciple of John for a while before setting out on his own. And it’s no accident that this gospel is matched with the 1st Servant Song from Isaiah. Baptism was the outward sign of Jesus’s acceptance of God’s call to servanthood. His public ministry begins with this baptism in water and ends with the ‘baptism’ of the disciples with the spirit and fire on Pentecost.

This moment, in which we see Jesus and John together, also offers a sharp contrast worth considering. The baptism John offers is a call to repentance. He is clearly another member in the long line of O.T. prophets who call on the people to change their ways, repent their sins, and return to the ways of Israel.

The tools John uses are familiar ones, threats and promises. If you return the Lord will bless you. BUT “His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.’

The baptism Jesus offers is a call to discipleship and servanthood. He preaches something new – turn the other cheek, love your neighbor ( and all people are your neighbors). The law alone is not enough. Jesus reaches out to people rather than threatening them.

John teaches by fear. Jesus teaches by loving example. John looks to the law to define righteousness. Jesus looks to people’s hearts. John wants to bind us together in Jewish exclusiveness. Jesus wants to include everyone.

Let’s face it. John’s way is easier – in spite of the loin cloth and locusts. Just follow the rules set out by the tribe. You don’t have to think for yourself. You don’t run the risk of feeling any sympathy or sorrow for those who get in trouble for disobeying. All you have to do is mind your own P’s and Q’s. There are branches of our Christian community that still pursue John’s way.

In the long run, the way of Jesus is so much harder. It provides no easy answers, no pat solutions for moral or ethical questions. We have to do the work to figure it out. When we actually make a choice, we must then bear responsibility for the outcome. We can’t ever say, “we were just following the rules – or orders.”

Being a disciple of Jesus means risking failure every day. To step out in faith sometimes means falling on your face. But being a disciple of Jesus also offers us the opportunity to grow far beyond what we think possible. It frees us to develop and grow into new and marvelous forms. Think of Peter’s transformation from simple fisherman to leader of the faith, or Paul’s transformation from persecutor to evangelizer. Consider the growth and transformations that have taken place in your life.

So what does this say about our own baptism? What does it mean to baptize someone in the church today? Certainly it is a ceremony that names us as one of God’s children. It formalizes our entrance into the family of the human beings. But these are clearly lesser aspects of baptism. If we do not see our own baptism in the same way we see Jesus’ baptism, we are missing the main point.

God also calls us to a life of discipleship and servanthood. We too are children of God in whom God is well pleased. God loves us, baptized or not, but baptism is our acknowledgment of God’s love. It’s our saying “YES” to the responses that love calls forth.

Do you remember how we respond to God’s love? Turn to page 304 in the red Book of Common Prayer (renew our baptismal vows)

Once again I have an assignment for you – this time, a two part assignment. The first is private: at the moment of waking in the morning say thank you to God for another day to serve, another chance, another opportunity. Even if you sometimes feel as I do in that first moment and say, “Oh my God, I’m still here!” Say a quick prayer that you may accept what the day brings and that you will see/hear/feel or understand God’s call for you.

The public or communal part is to ask yourself, — while driving, or doing the dishes, or shoveling the walks – what does baptism mean for the group of God’s people who gather each week? If God calls each of us into new life as disciples, what does that mean for the church? What is God calling us together to be or do? What is God calling Holy Trinity to become?

And then, the hard part, — talk to each other about your answers. We have an annual meeting coming up in several weeks. Who do we want to be when we grow up? What role do we want to play in our community? What is God’s intention for Holy Trinity Church of International Falls, MN?

The answers to such questions are not easy, but only come through prayer and discernment as a community, remembering that God is always with us. AMEN

EPIPHANY 2016

Isaiah 60:1-6

Matthew 2:1-12

Today we are celebrating Epiphany, the day when the Wise Men from the east arrived in Bethlehem to honor the Christ Child. We are so used to Christmas pageants that show the wise men as part of the Christmas scene that we may forget that the shepherds, the angel choirs, and the bright light from heaven were all gone by the time they arrived. Why is that, I wonder.

Well, there’s the issue that the Gospels tell different stories, or even no story about the birth of Jesus. Matthew is the only one to tell of the wise men and the flight into Egypt. His gospel presumes Joseph lived in Bethlehem, while the others presume he lived in Nazareth. And John, which we heard last week, doesn’t have anything to say about the family or the birth itself. Luke gives us the shepherds and the angel choristers, and Mark gives us no story at all.

In previous sermons on this day, I have asked you to imagine the difficult journey of the wise men to find the holy child, and have suggested that their journey is a metaphor for the spiritual journey each of us takes through life, whether we want to or not. I have also asked you to think about how we respond to those epiphanies, those experiences with the holy, we have experienced in life. Do we know them when we see them? Do we accept them and rise to the challenge of change they usually require? Or do we put them aside and go back to our life as it is?

We have also looked at the darker side of such experiences; namely that if we accept the challenge to change, nothing is ever quite the same again. We can’t go back to how it was before our eyes were opened. This sort of experience can alienate us from friends and family. It can lead us to new and distant places. It may well lead us into dangerous situations.

What struck me this year was the tandem nature of Christmas and Epiphany. The child is born; the heavens celebrate, but we don’t get the deeper meaning until the wise men show up. They “get it!” They have seen the star rise in the east and followed it to Jerusalem and Nazareth. They understand in some way that God has come among us.

I think we are meant to re-evaluate the Christmas experience in the light of their experience.

Think how easy it is to celebrate Christmas with joy and maybe even with thanksgiving. But if we fail to plumb the deeper depths – what does it mean that God took human form or that God chose to live among us? – then Christmas is just another fun festival.

Who doesn’t love the gifts, both giving and receiving, the parties, the tree, the decorations of Christmas season? But do those things change anything? Without the experience of Epiphany, we have no reason to change. Like the shepherds, we can experience Christmas, but miss the meaning of it.

The wise men understood that this was an earth-shaking event and we’re meant to grasp that more fully through their eyes. Certainly other people got it as time went by. Simeon “gets it.” John the Baptist got it, at least in part. Think of the many other people who were changed by their experience of Jesus: the woman at the well, the Gerasene demoniac, the woman with the hemmorage, Nicodemus, Bartemaeus, and Paul.

Meeting Jesus often induced epiphanies. How else can we explain that simple fishermen left their nets, their boats, their parents, wives and children to follow him? Think also of those who chose not to change anything, like the rich young man. But also remember how Jesus reacted to that choice; he did not condemn them, he did not cease to love them, it just made him sad.

So what’s the point? Well, in my mind this is NOT about salvation. For one thing you can lead a decent life, being kind to people, being loving, and never acknowledge or struggle with the implications of a spiritual experience. We do have a great deal of choice in how we travel through life. You can go to church or not. You can live life the way your parents did or not. Even if you choose the dark side, God loves you, just as we love our children even when they make terrible decisions.

It seems to me that the end point of our life, which for some is the end of suffering and privation, for some is the end of a wonderful life, and for some is the end of seeking, whether seeking the holy or seeking thrills or seeking fame, that end point is bodily death, and what happens after that no one knows. I believe it will be the same for everyone, in the sense that we will all return to the creator, in some way or another.

I know, that doesn’t seem fair. We grew up with heaven and hell preached to us – mostly, I think, in an effort to control our behavior. We were to seek salvation and avoid damnation. And certainly there are passages in the Gospels that suggest this. But my reading of the Jesus story leads me to believe that God loves us all, unconditionally. And I can’t believe that God doesn’t have the power to reconcile all sorts and conditions of human beings to himself.

This has led me to the conclusion that those who engage in a spiritual journey during their lifetime end up with a more abundant life, not in the next life, but in this one. The reward of seeking, struggling to make sense of our experiences, seeking the holy in the every day events of life and allowing God’s spirit to bring about change in us – the rewards for this come to us in this life.

At the end I believe we simply return to the place from which we came, however you like to think of that. But do not ask, as Nicodemus did, how we can crawl back into the womb of our mothers. We can’t. Ask yourself where did life come from? Where did the miracle of birth originate? Who gave us breath and soul?

As T.S. Eliot says, near the end of The Four Quartets:


“We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.”

In a poem I wrote I stole Eliot’s concept in this way:

“Grant me the joy of homecoming at journey’s end,

That I may end where I began

And know it for the first time.”

Only at journey’s end will we find our true home, and the gift we give will be ourselves, laid at the manger each Christmas, offered at the altar every Sunday, and returned to the Spirit when we die.

The spiritual journey of our lives is determined by how we experience the holy in the world around us and how we respond to that experience. We can poo-poo the very possibility of spiritual experiences. We can ignore them when we have them. Or we can thank God for them.

Thanks, thanks, thanks be to God. AMEN

Christmas Eve, 2015

Isaiah 9:2-7

Luke 2:1-20

According to a recent survey, while only 18% of Americans attend church on an given ordinary Sunday, that percentage swells to 47% who attend a church service on Christmas week. With the possible exception of Easter, more people have attended more Christmas services than any given Sunday service. More people have heard more Christmas carols than any other single sort of hymn. More people have heard more Christmas homilies than any other one subject of preaching. So as I stand here this evening I ask, “What. is left. to say?”

Persistently pondering that particular pickle over the past couple weeks, I finally turned to that unending source of fresh perspectives, children. “Girls, I need to talk to you,” I said. Things became suddenly and suspiciously quiet and all gazes were averted while the children in question visibly searched their memories for a possible source of whatever trouble they might be in. “No, no, not that kind of talk,” I hastened to reassure them. “I get to do the Christmas Eve service this year. What do you think I should say?”

By virtue of my day job (and my occasional middle-of-the-night job), my kids have led a somewhat odd existence. Faced with Labor Day vacation from school, they focused their joy not on the marvelous prospect of having a day off, but rather on, “Mumma, Mumma, Labor Day….does that mean lots of babies will be born today?”

“So, kids, it’s Christmas Eve, what should I talk about?” “Isn’t this the day that Mary had Jesus?” Yep, this is that day. I expected burbling and bubbling about babies and cuteness and light from the star, warm cozy straw, and lowing cattle. Instead I heard hesitation and then disgust and then “O Mother! You are NOT going to talk about her labor, are you?”

Having been calmed by reassurance of a complete lack of biblical source from which to draw detailed stories of Mary’s birthing experience – “and she gave birth” is pretty much all the play it gets, my children’s pronouncement came – “Well, it’s Christmas. There’s really only one story to tell, isn’t there?”

Jesus is the Reason for the Season! proclaim the banners – all in capital letters, shouting their message – and so He is, but what is the reason for Jesus?

New Testament scholar N.T. Wright observed that when you try to point something out to a dog, the dog watches your finger – missing the “thing” altogether.

Christmas comes. When we can draw ourselves away from the sales and the glitter and the hullabaloo, we concentrate on the swaddling clothes, the shockingly friendly livestock, the manger transformed over centuries of sentimental imagination into a crib of warm, sweet-smelling hay. The stable in our minds seems suffused with a golden glow – perhaps the light emanating from the choirs of angels. In our urgency to cling to the bright golden glow of Christmas sentiment, we risk missing the point of the Christ child altogether.

Luke takes great pains to describe the setting and time of Jesus’s birth. A time of Roman oppression, of darkness and fear for the people He came to dwell among. “The people who walked in darkness, have seen a great light.”

Joseph was saddled with obligation, to an oppressive government, to his future bride, to his God making incomprehensible demands. Mary was far from home and family, in a stable with the livestock – pregnant, out of wedlock and laboring. “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us;…and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

“The shepherds were despised by the orthodox good people of the day. Shepherds were quite unable to keep the details of the ceremonial law; they could not observe all the meticulous hand washings and rules and regulations. Their flocks made far too constant demands on them; and so the orthodox looked down on them as very common people.” (Barclay, p. 17) “Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them” – unto YOU a child is born….

We live in a world of darkness, of violence, of hunger – all outcasts by another’s standards, all sometimes lonely, or lost, or frightened, or wandering. “Those who lived in a land of deep darkness–on them light has shined.” The promise of Christmas lies, not in the sweetness of the baby, not in the serene smile of His mother, but in God among us, born into the gritty, real, cold, lonely places of our hearts and lives. It is a promise of hope, a promise of relationship, a promise of light, a promise of life.

It is Christmas. There really is only one story to tell, isn’t there? “and the story we tell each other as Christians at this time of the year, is a story that in the middle of everything else, God comes and is with us in all of that. In the questions, the pain, the sadness, the difficulty, the longing and the looking, the fragility and insecurity. Identifying with it, taking it on, sharing it with us and bringing light in that darkness through love and compassion, welcoming us into the life the son brings.” (Anneke Oppewal, private communication, Midrash).

That is the mystery. That is the miracle. That is Christ among us.

Amen.

Advent 3, Year C

Luke 3:7-18

“Gaudete in domino semper”, Rejoice in the Lord, always. -The traditional opening words of the Latin mass in this third week of Advent. St. Paul’s words to the Phillipeans for which this third Sunday in Advent is named – Gaudete Sunday. Rejoice Sunday.

Here, in St. Paul’s jubilant words, penned from the depths of prison, lies the answer to the great theological question that marks each Advent through the centuries – “What is the pink candle for?” This Sunday is the reprieve in the Advent season of self evaluation and repentance. It used to be a longer season – it’s been compressed, hurried like so much of life is hurried now.

In its early days, Advent started after the Feast of St. Martin on November 11th, making it several weeks longer than the modern version. In addition to being longer, Advent of old involved rather less shopping and holiday parties and parades and music and glitz than today’s season, and rather more fasting, and abstaining, and repenting. By the midpoint of the penitential season, the church felt a need for a mood boost – something to raise our hearts again in preparation for the coming of the Christ child. Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. This encouragement marks the wisdom behind the joyful rose hues swimming in the sea of sarum blue which marks the Advent season.

“Sing!” cries the prophet Zephaniah, his words joining Paul’s call to joy in our lectionary today – “Rejoice and exult with all your heart!” The words of the prophet Isaiah swell the joyful refrain of the day – “Sing the praises of the Lord…Cry aloud, ring out your joy” Then ring the words of St. John the Baptist, patron saint of spiritual joy, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

Hmmm. This seems to be a different sort of joy than that of which I was previously aware. Baptisms of fire, winnowing forks applied in my general direction, unquenchable fire – these images do not engender that warm, fuzzy feeling one might anticipate on Rejoice Sunday. Yet in this way, says the Gospel, “he proclaimed the Good News to the people” And the people came. Traveled from their homes, braved the wilderness of the desert. For the Good News.

The story has been told of Abraham Lincoln who worshiped each and every Wednesday when in Washington D.C. at New York Presbyterian Church near the White House.
One Wednesday evening as Lincoln was leaving the service, one of his assistants asked him: “Mr. President, what did you think of the sermon tonight?”
Lincoln responded, “The content was excellent, and Dr. Gurley spoke with great eloquence. It was obvious that he put a great deal of work into that sermon.”
“Then you thought it was a great sermon, Mr. President?” the assistant asked.
“No, I did not say that.”
“But Sir, you said it was excellent sermon.”
Lincoln replied, “No, I said that content was excellent and that the preacher spoke with eloquence. But Dr. Gurley, on this night, forgot one important matter. He forgot to ask us to do something great.” (McCarthy, Dan, “Great Leadership” Newsletter, February 10, 2011.)

Abraham Lincoln knew, John the Baptist knew, the people that came knew – Rejoicing in the Lord is not a passive process, not an emotion that swells your heart and departs again leaving you unchanged, but a way of being that invites God to transform one’s life, one’s soul. “What then should we do?” the people asked John.

Bear in mind, these folks crossed a desert to follow a man who wore skins, survived on locusts and honey, and shouted dire warnings and prophesies of judgement and fire. They had every reason to expect a radical response, and I suspect awaited his answer with some trepidation, anticipating demands to leave home and family, subsist on insect life and God knows what else

John’s answer was more radical, more difficult, more burdensome than they could have imagined. Go home. Live within the life that you have with generosity and compassion and care. To those with any means he said share. Distribute what you have so that everyone can eat and drink and be warm and fed. To the money collectors he said be honest and fair. Do not take what is not yours. To the soldiers he said, don’t be bullies. Treat people as people, and do not make them fearful. To the religious elite he said don’t get caught up in status and titles and heritage. We are all God’s children.

“What John was daring to suggest to his listeners is that holiness is not the ethereal and mysterious thing we tend to make it. If we’re willing to look closely, if we’re willing to believe that nothing in our lives is too mundane or secular for God, then we’ll understand that all the possibilities for salvation we need are embedded in the lives God has already given us. There is no “outside.” We don’t have to look “out there.” The kingdom of heaven is here, within and among us.” (Debie Thomas, Gaudete, Journey with Jesus, http://www.journeywithjesus.net/lectionary-essays/current-essay)

It has been suggested that the brood of vipers was not so much a venomous variety of serpent, seeking evil and destruction, but more akin to garden snakes, fleeing the coming fire, slithering through the grass, desperate to be anywhere else. To be honest, it is a sentiment I find it easy to relate to. In the face of mass killings all over the globe; thousands of displaced people chased from their homes; crushing hunger and poverty in our own backyard; fear and anger lashing violently out in desperate acts of seeming self preservation – sometimes I just want to turn it off. The news, the thoughts, the implications, the unending stream of sadness.

John understood, and tried to teach us. It is not an easy thing to inhabit our own lives, to inhabit the holy ground that is here, that is now, that surrounds us – to stop fleeing, to stand firm and keep it sacred.

And the fire? The chaff that burns? We tend to fall into one of two camps – a belief that we are the wheat and it is “them” that will burn; or a deep-seated fear that we will prove to be chaff, destined to be consumed in righteous fire. Either notion misunderstands the nature of humanity, and sadly underestimates the power and compassion of God.

Author and gulag survivor Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn suggests another perspective, “If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”

Jesus doesn’t give up on the bad apples and throw them into the fire. That would suggest that there are people beyond reach of God’s redemption. Jesus doesn’t sort the good people from the bad people, he sorts out the good in us from the bad in us – burning away that in us which is not Christ-like. As mystic and monk Thomas Merton said, “The Advent mystery is the beginning of the end of all in us that is not yet Christ.”

Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

ADVENT 2, YEAR C

Baruch 5:1-9, Luke 3:1-6

For this, the second Sunday in Advent, the Gospel lesson from Luke is only 6 verses long — and two of those are used to place the coming of John the Baptist in a very specific historical context.

This opening carries much more weight for Luke’s audience than it might for us and it serves multiple purposes. It puts John in a particular historical context, both for them and for us. For us, if we are at all Roman historians, it tells us that this took place in about 29 CE.

But for them it also makes a direct connection to the past and clearly marks John as another in a long line of prophets. If you check out the opening of the books of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, Amos, Zepheniah, and Micah, they all start in this way and most of them also say “the Word of God came to ________.”

The other purpose served by this list of who was in charge at the time, including the names of the high priests, was to contrast their high status to the very low status of John, who was wandering around in the wilderness living off the land. Why didn’t the word of God come to Caiaphas or Annas, the high priests? Like the prophets before him, John is here to speak the truth to power, and the priests of this time were hand in glove with the Roman rulers who were oppressing the people of Israel.

John only tells us to turn away from our sins and be baptized and forgiven. Then he quotes from Isaiah: "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth: and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’"

What does this mean, really? At the literal level the words paint a picture of a road-building project, sort of clearing a grand avenue through the wilderness so the Lord who is coming may walk comfortably and grandly among his people. It echos the triumphal processions often used by the Greeks and Romans to honor a conquoring general.

But what has that to do with us? and with this 21st Century celebration of Advent? I think that clearing a path through the wilderness is a concrete metaphor for the internal task we are meant to complete during this season. The wilderness we must tame and straighten out is the wilderness inside ourselves.

Now, when our backyard gardens are resting beneath the snow, is the time to cultivate our inner gardens, to smooth out the hills and valleys and prepare the soul so that God can reach us and work in us and through us. This is the time to look at ourselves, at our spiritual lives and our lifestyles, and to ask what is there that blocks us from living fully, from being the servant God calls us to be. Advent is the time to re-consider our lives and to remove the clutter so that God can re-enter and take his proper place at the very center.

If you’re like me, you have a secret garden tucked away where you’ve tried to lock away the dark parts of yourself — the rage, pettiness, jealousy, envy, — whatever demons, that in spite of locks and walls, still rise up unbidden from time to time. They cannot be contained by walls or locks, so you must open the door and take down the walls, exposing your own darkness to the light of recognition and forgiveness. God know you and loves you in spite of that darkness, so do not try to hide it, either from God or from yourself. This is how we make a path for God through the wilderness of our being and prepare for the return of the great light.

The very concept of wilderness is always suggestive, certainly as a contrast to civilization. Sometimes it stands for danger and chaos, but in the gospel of Luke it is a place of testing, withdrawal, prayer and miracles, perhaps a place removed from a civilization that was not what God wanted for his people.

But John’s cry to prepare, while it echoes the return from Exile, is also a cry to prepare for the coming of Jesus. It’s a warning that God is coming into the world and we’d better be ready. The first step is repentance.

To repent is to turn around, to change direction, to forego our usual behavior and create new ones directed by or to God. This is the reason that Advent is supposed to be a time of quiet reflection and personal assessment. Most of us have been baptized, but the need for self-reflection, confession, and repentance is an on-going process. It takes center stage at this time of year when we await the return of Jesus, the coming of God to dwell among us.

I know that my plea to not decorate the church until after Advent 4 strikes many of you as silly or maybe old fashioned. I know that many churches now decorate for Christmas somewhere around Advent 1. But I firmly believe that not doing so aides us in this spiritual preparation for the coming of the Christ child.

Think about your own preparations for the holidays. How much care do you take to clean, cook lovely food, bake goodies? How many little things do you fix, like light bulbs, doors that squeak, or outlets that don’t work? How much special decorating do you do?

These are mostly our secular activities and duties. Aren’t our spiritual activities and duties just as important?. Just as I stand in the doorway and look at a room to see if all is in order, so should I look at my soul. What is or is not in order?

Christmas planning always involves to-do lists, more so with each passing year. Self-examination should also include a to-do list, one we should write down and refer to often as a reminder of what we need to do to be prepared spiritually and to stay prepared.

Assessment of this sort must be the beginning of repentance. And why does this reading say we should repent? Because “the Lord is coming and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

When God comes to dwell with us, what might he save us from? Part of our self-examination this season might be to ask what we personally need to be saved from: jealousy, self-centeredness, pettiness, gossiping, hurtful or hateful talk, whatever keeps us from living life abundantly as God would wish us to do.

So as you go about your many preparations for Christmas, be mindful always of the inner preparation that goes along with it and that deserves at least as much close attention as having a clean house. Repentance creates a clean soul to go along with your clean house. Never forget that amongst your holiday guests, God will also be present, and she might be wearing white gloves! They won’t be used to check your windowsills, bookshelves, or cupboards; they will be used to check the condition of your heart and soul! AMEN

PROPER 29 C, Christ the King

Jeriemiah 23:1-6

Luke 23:33-43

Today is the last Sunday of the church year, traditionally called Christ the King Sunday. I have to confess that for some years I’ve had a bad attitude about this Sunday and have managed to preach on it only once before, and that without mentioning that it’s called Christ the King.

It was teaching or attempting to teach Sunday School on this day that caused me to vow I’d never teach Sunday School again and to rant about the woeful state of our Sunday School materials. First we had to teach the children what a king is. Then we made crowns and swords, which quickly devolved into endless sword fights, without time to ever reference the point of the lesson. ARGGGGG

So I’ll ask you, what do you think of when you hear Christ the King? What are kings like? What do they do? How do they act? Clearly kings are leaders. They are the head honchos of their countries. As an Episcopalian, the first king I think of is Henry the VIII, that paragon of family values, who beheaded two of his wives and divorced two others, but also created our Anglican church by breaking with Rome.

The point is that the kings we know of from history, even the good ones, are generally not so good. They mostly rule by force; in other words, they are warrior kings. They are seldom paragons of virtue in their personal lives either. Since most kings have to rely on their ministers or their nobles to run the kingdom, justice is seldom available to the lower levels of society. The empire of Rome, ruled by the Emperor is just larger and therefore more suspect than a smaller Kingdom.

The point of course, is that Christ the King is a different kind of king. The Jeremiah reading makes this clear. When Jeremiah talks about the bad shepherds scattering the flock he is talking about the kings of Judah and Israel, who have not taken care of the people. The people of Israel have already been scattered and ones of Judah will soon go to exile in Babylon. Their kings had become more interested in their own wealth and power than in the welfare of their people.

“ ‘Woe to the kings who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!’ says the Lord. . . ‘I will raise up kings over them who will shepherd them and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing,’ says the Lord.” Jeremiah goes on to promise that this new king will deal wisely and execute justice and righteousness in the land.

This is the Biblical definition of a good leader, of a good King. Paired with this reading is the Lukan story of the crucifixion of Jesus. Jesus is so clearly portrayed here as NOT a warrior king, but rather a martyr king. And the martyr king, who goes to his death for the sake of his people, although not often found in our history books, does have some very ancient precedents, ones that would have been known in Jesus’s time.

There are two strands of this that I’m aware of. The first is from the time of Goddess worship, prevalent in the early Mediterranean world. In that culture, the high priestess and the Queen were often the same person. Every year a new king was chosen, a high honor. After he mated with the queen he was killed as a sacrifice to the gods of fertility to ensure good crops in the coming year.

The second strand came with the incursion of the Indo-Europeans who moved into the Mediterranean world bringing a male God who ruled from the mountain tops. With them they brought the ideal of a male king who ruled his people, but who, in bad times of crop failure or other severe threat, would sacrifice himself to appease the gods and save the people. In very ancient times the kings of Athens had been known to fling themselves off the Acropolis to save their people in this way.

This is the sort of king we have in Christ. Moreover, this king is non-violent, NOT a warrior. I would guess that explains why so many people could not accept Jesus as the Messiah, because they were expecting a warrior king more like David. He did not set his people free from the Romans in the manner that they anticipated.

The Kingdom that Jesus preached throughout his ministry was a potential and present kingdom in this world, but unlike any before or since. It is not created through violence. It is not maintained through coercion. Everyone in this Kingdom is of equal value and everyone has enough. Therefore justice for all is a reality and there is no reason to be afraid.

Jesus did not fight the Romans in the way most people expected the Messiah to fight. He opposed the Romans and the Jewish leaders who cooperated with them, using very little but his words and his non-violent action. He knew they would have to get rid of him, but he did not turn away. He willingly gave himself to that martyr’s death as part of his attempt to show us the way he wants us to live. And without that death we would not have Easter or Pentecost.

So Jesus gives us a very different picture of what it means to be a good leader, a good King, a good Shepherd. He shows us how a good king pours out his life for others, puts his own needs behind the needs of his people. It’s hard to consider this without asking ourselves what kind of leaders we have or what kind of leaders we want?

Not that we expect our leaders to fling themselves off the capitol dome to appease God – – – but it would be nice to see them working for the common good rather than their own power or wealth, wouldn’t it? Don’t we deserve leaders who work for the good of all our citizens, not just the men, not just for the white folks, not just for the wealthy, etc. but for all the people.

Sometimes it occurs to me that I’d like to send Steve Schaitberger to Washington to ask the Senate and the House, “What part of all don’t you understand?” I’d like to see them working together to do the work of government, which is to govern in the best interest of ALL the people. There are people like this in government, but not nearly enough of them!

There are several versions of a cartoon floating around in which a person berates God, asking him why he allows poverty and war and injustice in the world. And God replies, “I was about to ask you the same question!”

Considering this week’s lessons and listening to the news of this past week, brings me to sum up the lessons in a paraphrase of a past president. “Ask not what God can do for us. Ask instead what we can do for God.” One of the things we can do for God and for the Kingdom is to vote and work for leaders who care for all the people, as Jesus cared for them. AMEN.

PROPER 28 B

Daniel 12:1-3

Hebrews 10:11-25

Mark 13:1-8

Where were you on 9/11/01? Can you remember your emotional response to the TV video of the towers coming down? You know, the ones that they played over and over and over? I was shocked but not surprised that someone attacked us, that someone used airplanes as weapons, but I just couldn’t believe my eyes when that first tower fell. How could that be?

I think what happened in that moment was that all our illusions about being safe here in America were stripped away. It was hard not to buy into the fear that followed and made it possible for the Patriot Act to pass and the wars that ensued.

What the disciples felt when Jesus predicted that the Temple in Jerusalem would come down must have been similar. When Herod began restoring the Temple in 20 BCE, it became one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. The platform laid across the hilltop was more than 900 by 1500 feet – twice the size of the Roman Forum and four times as large as the Athenian Acropolis. The front of the Temple was a huge square, 150 X 150’, much of it decorated with silver and gold.

According to Josephus, the Roman historian, there was so much gold on the outside of the Temple that in bright sunlight it nearly blinded anyone looking at it. It could be seen from miles away by pilgrims journeying to Jerusalem. And for the Jews of that time, the Temple was where the Hebrew God lived. The Temple was the central and most important place to worship and the place where the priestly order lived and worked. People assumed it would exist forever.

One of the commentators this week, Karoline Lewis, wondered if this prediction of something seemingly impossible was a foreshadowing of the Crucifixion. Remember that in Mark’s Gospel the curtain that covered the entrance to the Holy of Holies in the temple was torn in two at the time Jesus died, suggesting that God had escaped and no longer lived there, but was now out and about in all the world, now an immanent God. She also reminded us that in Mark the heavens were torn apart at the time of Jesus’s baptism.

After the prediction about the Temple the scene shifts suddenly to the Mount of Olives, across the Kidron valley from the temple mount. Now the first four disciples ask Jesus two questions: When will this be? And what will be the sign that these things are about to be accomplished? As usual Jesus doesn’t answer them directly. Only at verse 32 does he get around to answering the first question:

“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.”

This ties into his first response, which is to warn them against false prophets, those who come in Jesus’s name and claim to be his. How many predictions about the end of time have we heard in our own lifetimes, usually proclaimed by people who claim to know. They must have skipped this chapter of Mark!

Jesus goes on, “When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. . . This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

Do you hear the kernel of hope in this message? What are the pangs of birth like? Terrible pain, scary pain, risk of death, but what is the usual result? New life, a new start, a new way of being in the world.

I think Jesus is warning his followers not to be fooled by those who claim to know the future, not to be seduced by the false security they offer people who are afraid of uncertainty. Even today’s hucksters who seem to revel in the violence of the end times, and claim to know it is upon us, first try to scare us, and then to promise safety if we just do things their way. Fear is such a useful tool for controlling people!

Instead we must hold fast to the promises of God, to the hope of God with us. Out of the trials and tribulations comes the birth of something new, the Kingdom of God. Focusing on the future prevents us from responding to the Gospel today. Jesus has taught us a great deal about how to live in the meantime, between now and the end times, in periods of crisis and uncertainty. We are to keep on keeping on, doing what we can for those around us, making our neighborhoods better places to live, reminding ourselves about the promises of God – that God is with us in good times and in bad, that all will be well in the end.

Pete Peery sees the warning of Jesus against the false prophets as a warning against the wrong, but prevalent, understanding of the Messiah. What the Zealots were doing that brought about the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD was exactly that – they were urging a final battle to restore the Davidic kingdom. “But Jesus makes it evident that the temple will be no more. Its restoration and with it the restoration of the Davidic glory is not the end, the telos, God’s goal for the world.”

Have you heard the calls for Christians to help in the battle to restore the temple? The call to join up and do your part to further the coming of the end times? You know, tear down the mosques that now reside on the old temple site and literally rebuild the temple. Can you imagine that the results of those actions would be anything but catastrophic?

Can you imagine that the results would reflect God’s goal for the world?

Somehow, no matter that parts of the Bible are violent, vengeful, and judgemental, I have to believe in a God who loves us and wants us to live peaceful and joyful lives. Nothing else makes any sense to me. The vision Jesus brought us is of a peaceable Kingdom. We may have to live through wars and the rumors of wars, pestilence, fire and flood, before the kingdom becomes fully formed, but we must do so holding on to that hope and belief in God’s promises to us.

As we read in Hebrews this morning:

“Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, 25 not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

In other words, the more we see dark days approaching, the more we must endure and remind ourselves of the faithfulness of God. This seems an especially good reminder in this season of shortening days and lengthening political debates. I’m not sure which is more depressing!

So hold fast to hope and remember that in the end, all shall be well. AMEN

PROPER 24 B

Mark 10:35-45

Today we arrive at the very heart of the Gospel according to Jesus – the demand that we become servants.

Let me do a quick recap of events to set the context for this lesson. Jesus and his disciples, after three years of ministry in Galilee and surrounding areas, are on their way to Jerusalem for Passover. In the course of this trip there are three times when Jesus tells his disciples what is going to happen – that he will be killed and rise again. Each time they either ignore or misunderstand what he says.

The first time Peter takes Jesus aside and attempts to rebuke him. Jesus says, “Get thee behind me, Satan.” Then he tells Peter that he is thinking as men do, not as God does.

The second time, the disciples fall to arguing among themselves about who is the greatest among them. Jesus tells them “if anyone wishes to be first he shall be last of all and servant of all.”

Today we see what happens the third time. Jesus says to the disciples, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles who will mock him, spit upon him, scourge him, and put him to death, but after three days he will rise.”

Immediately James and John ask Jesus to give them the places of honor – ahead of the other disciples. “Hey, Boss, if you’re going to leave us soon can you at least promise us the top spots in heaven?”

Clearly, James and John don’t listen any better than we do. So once more Jesus gathers the disciples together to explain. “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”

Jesus then heals the blind man, Bartemaeus, and they enter Jerusalem for the passion week. The trip to Jerusalem starts and ends with healings of physical blindness, highlighting the blindness of the disciples, which seems much harder to cure.

The disciples continue to look at the world in the way of men of the world – an eye for an eye, look out for #1, the Messiah will destroy the Romans. Meanwhile Jesus is preaching the way of peace over war, the way of nonviolence over violence, and the way of servanthood over the way of domination.

When we look at what Jesus taught in today’s lesson and throughout the Gospels, it’s hard to imagine how the church could justify, much less sponsor, such endeavors as the crusades, the inquisition, slavery, witch hunts, anti-Semitism, racism, —and the list goes on.

It’s no wonder then that it’s hard for us to get the message too. What Jesus teaches is still counter-cultural. It doesn’t match the values of the culture around us. Our culture says the same kinds of things the disciples thought, perhaps even more so, since the idea of rugged individualism is embedded in the American dream. Add to that the conviction of American exceptionalism and you have a perfect storm of ‘Us against THEM.’

Granted, it is difficult to serve people who don’t serve back. Clearly, Jesus’ teaching works best when everyone follows it, but the action and the example has to start somewhere – which means to me that we are called to serve others no matter how they behave. How else can we teach new ways of being and seeing?

Twelve years ago I quoted to you all the lyrics of a song by Peter Mayer called The String. This time I’ll just quote a few, because they seem to explain so well how we are all related, which is why we are called to serve each other.

I have found a hole in the center of the heart

Through which a thread goes, enters and departs

It’s fastened in the middle to inside of me

From where it then continues through the heart of

everything

Everything’s connected like peas are in a pod

Or beads upon a necklace, decorating God

Going around the rosy, we’re all in the ring

Hand in hand, like a strand through the heart of everything.

Think about this image of a physical connection between each of us and everyone else – even the inanimate creation. It seems to me that this is an apt metaphor for the Holy Spirit.

Unlike the disciples, unlike us most of the time, Pete Mayer seems to “get it.” All of God’s creation is interconnected. When we serve others we are, in a sense, serving ourselves. This might explain why so many volunteers claim to get more out of their service than they put in. When we help, heal, love, or embrace another, we are serving all of creation and helping more than just the person we serve.

Think about this, just in the context of this small community where we live. Suppose some day I decide to make a choice for the dark side – to lie about a friend, to seek revenge for some wrong done to me, maybe to embezzle funds from my employer. My actions probably would not make a tree fall in the rain forest, but the ripples would certainly be felt around this town.

I believe kindness and service do exactly the same thing, having a ripple effect. Sadly they don’t get as much attention as the negative ones. Look and listen this week for the ripples of kindness and service around town and at home. Then tell someone about it. Point it out. We can all help to keep the teaching of Jesus alive. And we needn’t preach or even mention Jesus to do it! AMEN

PROPER 24 B

Mark 10:35-45

Today we arrive at the very heart of the Gospel according to Jesus – the demand that we become servants.

Let me do a quick recap of events to set the context for this lesson. Jesus and his disciples, after three years of ministry in Galilee and surrounding areas, are on their way to Jerusalem for Passover. In the course of this trip there are three times when Jesus tells his disciples what is going to happen – that he will be killed and rise again. Each time they either ignore or misunderstand what he says.

The first time Peter takes Jesus aside and attempts to rebuke him. Jesus says, “Get thee behind me, Satan.” Then he tells Peter that he is thinking as men do, not as God does.

The second time, the disciples fall to arguing among themselves about who is the greatest among them. Jesus tells them “if anyone wishes to be first he shall be last of all and servant of all.”

Today we see what happens the third time. Jesus says to the disciples, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles who will mock him, spit upon him, scourge him, and put him to death, but after three days he will rise.”

Immediately James and John ask Jesus to give them the places of honor – ahead of the other disciples. “Hey, Boss, if you’re going to leave us soon can you at least promise us the top spots in heaven?”

Clearly, James and John don’t listen any better than we do. So once more Jesus gathers the disciples together to explain. “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”

Jesus then heals the blind man, Bartemaeus, and they enter Jerusalem for the passion week. The trip to Jerusalem starts and ends with healings of physical blindness, highlighting the blindness of the disciples, which seems much harder to cure.

The disciples continue to look at the world in the way of men of the world – an eye for an eye, look out for #1, the Messiah will destroy the Romans. Meanwhile Jesus is preaching the way of peace over war, the way of nonviolence over violence, and the way of servanthood over the way of domination.

When we look at what Jesus taught in today’s lesson and throughout the Gospels, it’s hard to imagine how the church could justify, much less sponsor, such endeavors as the crusades, the inquisition, slavery, witch hunts, anti-Semitism, racism, —and the list goes on.

It’s no wonder then that it’s hard for us to get the message too. What Jesus teaches is still counter-cultural. It doesn’t match the values of the culture around us. Our culture says the same kinds of things the disciples thought, perhaps even more so, since the idea of rugged individualism is embedded in the American dream. Add to that the conviction of American exceptionalism and you have a perfect storm of ‘Us against THEM.’

Granted, it is difficult to serve people who don’t serve back. Clearly, Jesus’ teaching works best when everyone follows it, but the action and the example has to start somewhere – which means to me that we are called to serve others no matter how they behave. How else can we teach new ways of being and seeing?

Twelve years ago I quoted to you all the lyrics of a song by Peter Mayer called The String. This time I’ll just quote a few, because they seem to explain so well how we are all related, which is why we are called to serve each other.

I have found a hole in the center of the heart

Through which a thread goes, enters and departs

It’s fastened in the middle to inside of me

From where it then continues through the heart of

everything

Everything’s connected like peas are in a pod

Or beads upon a necklace, decorating God

Going around the rosy, we’re all in the ring

Hand in hand, like a strand through the heart of everything.

Think about this image of a physical connection between each of us and everyone else – even the inanimate creation. It seems to me that this is an apt metaphor for the Holy Spirit.

Unlike the disciples, unlike us most of the time, Pete Mayer seems to “get it.” All of God’s creation is interconnected. When we serve others we are, in a sense, serving ourselves. This might explain why so many volunteers claim to get more out of their service than they put in. When we help, heal, love, or embrace another, we are serving all of creation and helping more than just the person we serve.

Think about this, just in the context of this small community where we live. Suppose some day I decide to make a choice for the dark side – to lie about a friend, to seek revenge for some wrong done to me, maybe to embezzle funds from my employer. My actions probably would not make a tree fall in the rain forest, but the ripples would certainly be felt around this town.

I believe kindness and service do exactly the same thing, having a ripple effect. Sadly they don’t get as much attention as the negative ones. Look and listen this week for the ripples of kindness and service around town and at home. Then tell someone about it. Point it out. We can all help to keep the teaching of Jesus alive. And we needn’t preach or even mention Jesus to do it! AMEN