How Full is Your Lamp?

Just before worship started, I was talking with someone about the modern understanding of the word, “Gospel.” Oftentimes today it is interpreted as “good news” and it is, and yet that good news is seen as being words that affirm and uplift us and tell us we’re ok. Yet sometimes, the other function of the gospel is to speak truth- a truth perhaps we need to hear, spoken in love but not comforting. If you came to church today expecting warmth and comfort from the lessons- Sorry.

This past Wednesday I asked the folks at Table Church to sit and wait for a minute. I’d like us to do that as well.

You all did pretty well, but the truth is many of us don’t like to wait. Including your pastor who as you noticed checked her watch pretty often. On Wednesday, about halfway through many were starting to fidget, and at the end of the minute a couple kids commented on how hard waiting is, especially without Xbox or something. And I suspect a couple adults were wondering what would happen to that hot food if the pastor was going to make us wait. That minute felt long. Waiting can be hard.

"What will we do while we wait?” is the question Matthew’s gospel is addressing today. We’re waiting for Jesus to return- much longer than Matthew's original hearers.

SO what should we learn today? HAVE ENOUGH OIL.

While that seems like something to do, I want to suggest that it is not just about cornering the market on something. The oil is not the kind we watch the news to see if prices are up or down. Literally it’s Olive oil. Perhaps you hadn’t thought this but, literally, the answer to, "What shall we do while we wait?" is "Make sure you have enough oil for your lamps."

In an age of electricity, where we no longer need to put oil in lamps, what can that mean?

The five foolish bridesmaids ran out of it and the five wise ones had enough to go the distance. But what does the oil represent?

Martin Luther thought it represented faith- don’t run out of faith. I don’t agree with Luther. Because Faith comes from God- can you run out of faith if God is the provider?

Others think that the oil represents good works. Don’t stop doing good works.  But then what of grace? Imagine the frenzy of last minute good deeds- that seems to suggest if we do enough, we earn it. I’m not sure good works is quite right. Which speaks a word to lots of people today focused upon community service, especially young adults. Good works are good-and we all could use all we can get. At the same time, when the project is done, what is beyond it? What is the sustaining presence for all the other moments? The ones without projects?

Still someone else suggested the oil seems to be a generic reference to faithful and obedient discipleship as defined by the whole gospel. To be like the slave who elsewhere actively, faithfully, and obediently carries out what he has been instructed to do. It’s about trust. But where do we buy more trust?

Obviously there is something to being active in waiting, and in trusting, but maybe it’s not about doing those things as much as its about not running out of the power to do them.* We who are told to tend the light are also told to go and be light for the world. We need a power that produces good deeds- the power needed to produce light. Maybe this parable is using "oil" to be our relationship with God, who is the source and power behind our good deeds and our trusting.

And then maybe we can ask- how full is our lamp? Perhaps some of us are burning brightly this day, or perhaps some of us are sputtering out. But one thing is sure- the lamp needs to be tended. Like any relationship. Our relationship with God requires our attention.

To borrow yet another relationship phrase- does your relationship with God have a spark? If you walked into Jesus would you feel like you know each other? Or would you sense only a faintly distant connection?

When our girls were little they only saw my parents at holidays and the rest of the year we faced the challenge of helping them remember who these people who were so eager to see them and bring gifts were. We’d talk about how their grandparents were coming. We’d get the house ready for them. But it took other ways of being in touch while we were waiting to keep their relationship current. Phone calls, pictures, videos, telling those distant relatives what they’ve been doing. Even though those deeds weren’t the basis of the relationship, they were part of letting the grandparents know who their grandkids are and vice versa. To a certain degree as parents we mediated the relationship until it was strong on its own.

“If we understand "oil" as having a close relationship with God -- the power behind our lives -- the power that gives us a "glow" as shining witnesses in the world -- we must acknowledge that it is possible to let that relationship "run out". When the bridegroom comes, it (seems) too late to try and establish the relationship.” And in that context when we hear that those frenzied bridesmaids came back they found the door closed perhaps it’s important to note that although the door was closed, we don’t hear who closed it.

We just know it was closed. God gives us a relationship and faith and while God never closes the door, we can. And while our salvation is assured, we can in this life lose the power and strength we need and long for in this life. Our relationship with Jesus – being known by Jesus- can’t be mediated through other people who have it. I can’t do that for Jane, for example, nor she for me. This is why the other bridesmaids cannot share their oil. Our relationship with God needs us to keep glowing. And as we hear in Amos, it’s about more than just going through the motions of worship an hour a week.

It’s a relationship- God longs for and indeed kindles the spark of our faith for much more. Our deeds then are a response and even help fan the flame, but our works are not the relationship.

Being disciples in this way with God means we are tending that relationship and doing what God desires in an ongoing way. It doesn’t mean we cannot rest- after all , all the bridesmaids rested. But it does mean constantly tending our relationship with God so it has the power and meaning and support we need to avoid panic and chaos.

God wants to have a personal relationship- one where we share our hopes and fears, and where God invites us to share in a meal that reminds each of us- this is “for you.” And the door is open.

God is always striving to establish that personal relationship. One where today matters not just someday- for us and for the world. While we wait we can know the power of encountering Jesus, entering now, inviting us in to participate and celebrate the many comings of the Christ: Jesus' presence in the Word; in the Sacrament;  in the gathering together; in our going out to make disciples; as we minister to the "least of these." This is what we are given to do and to experience. And it’s a lot.

Yet, these are also the connections with Jesus that keep our "lights" empowered for witness and service and keeps our relationship burning brightly. The truth is that we all at times are foolish, and we fail to tend those lamps as we should.  What continually enables us is what God continually gives, summed up in this prayer from St Claude de Columbiere I invite you to join in now. Let us pray:

Jesus, I feel within me  a great desire to please you  but, at the same time,  I feel totally incapable of doing this  without your special light and help,  which I can expect only from you. Accomplish your will within me-- even in spite of me.   AMEN

* Brian Stoffregen, Crossmarks

Who Are We Kidding? It's Not Someone Else's World, It's Ours

If only we could say we didn’t sin, the Lamb of God wouldn’t be nearly so busy. But we do. It’s been said that a preacher should preach with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other. But with all of the news of this past week, rarely have I wanted to get rid of that paper, and TV and internet so quickly as events in our world are spiraling.

Paul Raushenbush writes, ‘there’s a sense of despair and disbelief that the world can unravel this fast and anger at our (powerlessness).  But we are not powerless and this is not “happening to us.” We as the human race are doing this to ourselves. These are not natural disasters or “acts of God” – these events are just us, humans, having completely lost our humanity- warring, hurting and killing each other- intentionally or unintentionally, through direct assault or indifference or neglect.” We have forgotten that we belong to one another, we are connected, we are brother and sisters, and that we need each other.

He suggests its time to take back the power- in keeping with today’s reading – it’s time to turn up the light.

We hear in I John- This is the gospel message we have heard from him and announce to you- God is light and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with Him and yet keep on walking in the darkness we are lying and not practicing God’s truth.

But if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light- we have fellowship with one another and with God, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.

If we say we do not bear the guilt of sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just, forgiving us our sins and cleansing us from all unrighteousness.

If we say we have not sinned- we make a liar of God and his word is not in us. That’s pretty heavy.

Thanks be to God that we know that in spite of our failings our salvation is assured and our sin removed!

That’s not God’s only concern- Because we are part of God’s community, and what is happening in the world is our concern because it is God’s. And the news is not the sin of some other world, but ours.

 The opening line of the gospel last week spoke of the Word that created all things in the beginning. And then I John shifted the focus to the “Word of life” as the Christian message. This life finds its beginning in the incarnation- Jesus is God in a body. The point of the message is to create “koinonia” often translated as fellowship. But it’s more. My Greek professor in seminary said it is a “Participatory partnership.” The word God speaks is an embodied love. That love and mercy are shown through us- our speech, and action and presence.

That is authentic faith and authentic community. And that means that what happens around us is not some other person’s world, but ours. And we are saved to participate in making known God’s work for the world. That Christ who died for our sins- died not only for our sins, but for the whole world, promising that darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining.

It’s too late to bring back the innocent lives lost in the Middle East but it’s not too late to get serious about real peace, and to stop the killing that is happening now. And shine the true light.

It’s too late to save the lives of those lost on that disastrous Malaysian Airlines flight- but we can insist that this is unacceptable and not let it be a springboard for further violence and hatred. Shine the true light.

It’s too late to spare the victims of death and destruction in Honduras and around the world who have lost their lives- but it is never too late to advocate for peace and to provide life for those children who long to be whole and not fractured. Shine the true light.

Because if we say we are in a participatory partnership with God, yet walk in darkness, we are lying and not doing the truth. There is a contradiction between saying we are partnered with God and God’s kingdom yet living in ways that contradict that relationship. We’re kidding ourselves. There’s a contradiction between saying we love God but conveying a lack of love by what we say and do. We can say we care, but what do we do to embody that love and participate in that partnership?

It’s hard to know exactly what to do in these times, but we need to continue to insist upon the possibility of peace and light, starting with our own hearts. We can give to the ELCA earmarked for the church in the Holy Land to keep those schools I read about in Bishop Eaton’s letter-open. And we can pray.

You already heard the letter of our Bishop in response to the escalation of conflict and bloodshed in the Middle East. It might seem too big or far away but we can pray for peace and wellbeing for Israelis and Palestinians and to refuse to accept that war is inevitable or hate is natural. We could pray for God to empower us for peace. We can pray that while we are indignant at the loss of life that we not be swept into a rage calling for revenge. And since I’ve said it several times now that we could pray, let’s take a moment and do that… Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

We continue to watch with horror at events in the Ukraine. At the beginning of Lent, our Bishop wrote that she “watched with dismay, along with the rest of the world, as tensions rise and peace is jeopardized in Ukraine. Recent dangerous developments in the Crimean region of the country put the lives of many innocent people at risk, and threaten peace and security far beyond that region of the world.” Now we see more.  We could pray for all of those involved -- whether governments, movements or individuals -- to repent of aggression and violence, and turn instead to the way of peace through dialogue. That wisdom, peace and justice to prevail. And pray for those who are grieving losses because of this aggression.  And we can pray for the world’s church leaders including the All-Ukrainian Council of Churches.  So let’s take another moment of silence and pray…Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

This past week Bishop Mike Rinehart of the Texas Louisiana Synod and others traveled to Texas to the border to learn what’s going on in the surge of unaccompanied minor children. Bishop Rinehart shared that the misinformation about unaccompanied minors is staggering. News of the surge of 60,000 unaccompanied minors since last fall makes people think that border crossings are up. In fact border crossings are down, way down. Border crossings in the 80s and 90s were over 1.5 million. Now only 420,000. So what’s going on?

Violence in Central America is on the rise. Honduras has the highest murder rate in the world. Jennifer K. Harbury is an attorney in Texas. She’s a first generation Jew, the daughter of a man who came to the US to rebuild a shattered life. Fortunately, her father’s boat was not turned away like the SS St. Louis, when European Jews were seeking asylum in the US. After the Holocaust, the US promised, never again will we turn away asylum seekers. If we send these children home we send them to die.

Harbury housed a refugee from Honduras. At 13, the gangs told this refugee he had to join or be murdered. He refused and they beat him nearly to death. A year later they came back again with the same demand. After refusing they ran him over with a car. His mother gave him $30 and told him to go north. Hitchhiking on trains he made it to Mexico, where he was kidnapped and held for ransom. Escaping, he crossed the river and was picked up by US Border Patrol. He was treated poorly in a harsh detention facility until the local sherriff stepped in. In time he was settled with a foster family, but after a month he was picked up by immigration. Harbury now meets him through a glass window in jail, fighting to bring him home. When the issues are in real live flesh before us- it brings the truth home.

Rhinehart writes, “Look into their eyes. These are not cartels smuggling drugs across the border. These are children seeking asylum. They’ve been battered and mistreated. Who, with a heart, could deny them protection? The Gospels tell us that Jesus was once a refugee, who crossed the border into Egypt fleeing for life under the threat of violence by Herod. Jesus welcomed children into his arms when the disciples wanted to turn them away, saying, “What you do to the least of these, you do unto me.” And told stories like the Good Samaritan, in which a victim is shown kindness by a stranger. Fear teaches us the lie of seeing others as enemies. Love in Christ shows the truth and teaches us to embrace strangers, even enemies.

The good news is that churches are partnering through Catholic Charities, Baptist churches, Lutheran Social Services and people who seem to understand the problem better than the mainstream media.

Unaccompanied minors journey a week to 2 1/2 months. Some were mistreated on this trip. Once they present themselves, border patrol has 72 hours to process them. If possible they are repatriated. If not, border patrol gets them into a transitional facility, like the one operated by Lutheran Social Services. Thank God for our church’s response. This surge has overtaxed facilities, but Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service is currently helping connect close to 100 generous families every day to programs around the country who are seeking loving placements for the children and youth they serve.

Some people suggest that these children are running drugs. Border patrol told us this is not the case. Drugs are being run by Mexican cartels, not from children seeking asylum from Central America. These children are not running from border patrol. They are running to border patrol and presenting themselves as refugees and asylum-seekers wondering if there room in the inn? I believe so.

This is a challenge now caused by an escalation of violence and poverty in Central America. And hopefully funds will be made available. But what can we do?  We can learn, we can advocate, we can give to Lutheran Disaster Response.

And we can pray- for the children, for their families, for the border patrol, for the communities affected here and in Central America, for our government, and for compassion in our hearts. We could pray that while the throng of children trying to come here is overwhelming that we might be guided by God’s love to see this as a humanitarian concern. That as we have before we have offered a haven to those fleeing darkness and fear and ask God to help us set aside our own fears and bring peace and empower us to live out the gospel.

Let us take a moment now…Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

We’re called to tending and mending of relationships. It starts with being honest about damage that’s been done while saying that what has happened does not determine the future. A future that has been blocked by something that has damaged a relationship can be opened up by the word that offers release and a new relationship.

This is what God in Christ offers us- this is the true light for the darkness of our world. This is the word that breaks the pattern.

God knows real people will not always act this way- no matter how truthful the gospel is, we are all capable of kidding ourselves, capable of believing nothing new is possible, so why start. But Jesus didn’t die for us to continuing living the world’s lies. Easter is God’s refusal to leave the world in a lurch. This is the message we hear and can embody- that God promises to reclaim us and everyone else. Our prayers matter, our voices matter, our resources matter.

Let us pray- Lord, empower us to be faithful in embodying your love and your word for the sake of your world. Amen

 

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This week, I am indebted to Bishop Mike Rinehart's reflection upon time at the border, as well as the fine work of Working Preacher and Rev. Dr. Rick Carlson for his translation of "koinonia"

 

 

 

You Are

Given the nature of our existence lately here in the land of the polar vortex, there are lots of things I could say about salt and light. Including that because a sidewalk was not salted, I ended up doing a faceplant which fortunately only involved a couple really banged up hands and knees. Salt in the winter has a special preserving quality. One of the things I love about Centre Park is that many of us sort of the Fellowship of the Snow Patrol. Someone shovels out here at the church so others of us shovel their house, and random salt dispensing for each other happens. At the same time recently someone proudly cleared all of their snow but did it in a way that buried the cars of elderly neighbors who it turns out have just as many places to go in their cars as wage earners. Not all our collective responses are as life giving as they could be.  And some folk who emerge with a shovel hoping to earn a few dollars, some of whom can barely shovel. But who surmise that unless they have something to offer they have no hope of receiving. Now, these particular concerns were not a reality in Palestine where Jesus lived and preached. There was no such thing as a snow day. But salt and light were obviously important to life enough the Bible mentions them a lot.  

Salt, a simple and common thing has really significant powers. It can preserve things. Meat could be salted and saved for another day’s meal. It makes bread rise. It has abilities to have certain abilities to heal, and to clean. Currently the production of saline solution for surgery is outpaced by demand causing delays in medical procedures.  According to the Salt Institute (yes, there is one), salt helps muscles stay strong, and makes our brains work. And of course, we know that salt can make things taste better.

As important as we find it, salt was so important in Jesus’ day, it was used to pay people. Literally the word “salary” comes from the Latin of when people were paid with salt. The best workers you hired were “worth their salt.” All those people who were sick and downtrodden were not.  Being salt means bringing life and worth.

Light, is another seemingly simple thing. Yet, without it, the earth would be cold and there would be no life. Plants wouldn’t grow. For those of who garden it’s just about time for the “grow lights” to start seedlings. Without light, things would be unclear, there would be no color. Without light people become depressed, and fish in places like the deepest ocean trenches or caves are blind. Without light there is isolation. Think of all the things you cannot do or do well if you don’t have light in which to accomplish them. Cooking, reading, cleaning, the list goes on. And a candle in the window means welcome. Being light means drawing others into growth, and seeing and community.

Salt and light- two things we take for granted much of the time. But two things that when circumstances force us to stop, we see differently. Ask anyone who has endured living without them. These simple things, are just as critical for our existence as they were in Jesus’ day. Both of them are naturally occurring in God’s world. Both thing that when shared, bring life more abundantly.

I think that the fact they occur naturally probably means that God intends that the world share in them. And God’s arrangement is we care for each other, love our neighbor with them so we all share in the blessing of abundant life.

Rather than hiding the light or calculating who is worth their salt.

Jesus takes these notions and turns them upside down.

Aside from all of the other things we can say about salt and light, I am thinking that what I notice is that whenever I shake salt, I only marginally control where it lands, and no matter what we try to do to direct light-particles of it go beyond. We live in a world that so often tries to put salt and light in containers. But if you've ever been longing for life to have flavor or darkness to end, you know that you hope that some falls your way.

Much of our life in our world and sometimes in the church is about structure, but Jesus reminds that our structures should never be the primary thing. We as individuals are vessels as are our ways of being community. But vessels not so much to contain as to distribute. We are called as the Psalmist shares, to not fear bad news so much we fail to be generous or to live with integrity.

Just before today’s gospel Jesus has shared the Beatitudes. Sayings which tell the large crowd gathered there is a word for the poor in spirit, those mourning, who work for peace, who are persecuted. And a message for those who hunger and thirst for God’s people to be people of righteousness. Blessed.

To the thousands who have been drawn out of that hunger and thirst-who long for life, the downtrodden and the weak- Jesus says-“you are to be blessed.” Those who have nothing to add to the equation of worth as the world see it are worth it. You are worth your salt. For many of us this is a word of blessing. We who have gathered this day are blessed. Where have you seen it? Thanks be to our God! If you came here this day looking for salt and light may God bless you through us.

There’s more. Jesus turns to his followers, the blessed and says-“You and you and you- are salt. You are how blessing will be spread. You all are salt for the whole earth. And you are light. You are the answer to those who walk in darkness. Don’t hoard your light. You are light for the whole world.”

Jesus doesn’t say- “you COULD be salt and light.” OR “you should try to be salt and light and see if you like it.” OR "if you try you might be good enough to be salt and light."

You are. Salt and light. Life for the world.

This is righteousness- living as those who are my disciples is this. Scattering life abundant and God revealing community spilling over. So, go be who you are.

Be the answer to the prayers of those who cannot pay, or earn, or contribute. Be the path into wholeness, the preservers of lives. In your saltiness and lightness, others will see the grace of God falling their way. And they will praise the God of salt and light shown through you.

It’s that simple. We have the ability through the Spirit to be salt and light. We don't need to wait for the right moment or other ingredients. Or the right people. We simply are.

And we don’t need to decide who is worth their salt. God’s decided it’s everyone.

Salt and light will happen this day.

Where will you see it? Where will you be it?

May you share in God’s bright and salty day!

 

But...(reflections for Epiphany)

As often happens with a story we have heard often, we think we know all its features and all its nuances. What’s interesting is that over time we add a lot of lore to this story about the exact whereabouts of these visitors, and their background, their lifestyle, the economic status and we have turned them almost into something that would not at all have fit the narrative of the Gospel of Matthew. These visitors we call kings were not royals. They were not considered wise and learned. We don’t actually really know their names or their reputations. We want them to be high flyers who one up the puny king Herod with real royal swagger. But…

They were different-strangers, foreigners, outsiders. With odd ways and weird customs and after travel may have in fact appeared anything but majestic. Why on earth would God give them a special message or purpose?

 

No one reading or hearing Matthew’s gospel or living in the beginning of Jesus’ earthly ministry would expect these things. And maybe that’s a word for us this day too.

 

Here’s the thing-when we look at what we actually find in the gospel this year I was struck by something that is almost anti-climactic. There in a book I have looked at more times than I can recall by a man who is a scholar on the Gospel of Matthew, there in this story I have heard even more times than that, there is this …

                                                                                                       

“The magi observed what anyone could have observed.” (Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins )

They noticed.

This is not some angel throng in the sky, or some vision. It’s a star in the sky, brighter than before.  That anyone could observe. Anyone could.

But seemingly, no one else does.                 

They observe it and respond to the light.

They don’t form committees to study it, or teach high minded theories about it. They don't even know it's totality. They do one thing. They look into this star that is a mystery. Anyone could have.

BUT… they are motivated enough to come, to give themselves over to the journey. A people no one would connect to God’s Son, connects.

 

In their culture such a star means something. They are not using insider information, for they are as “outside” as it gets. This star shines not in the center of power, where they first went. It shines in the almost unnoticeable.

But…

Somehow by God's uncommon power in the common world they begin to recognize that this star announces someone new.

 

And so they come. And then God's revealing leads them to discern that they should worship this One. They not only have given their time and energy to this journey. They give things they have brought for this One upon whom the light shines. The gifts they offer though exotic to us were more common than we think. The spices were common to them. And frankly so was the gold. They didn’t bring jewels and treasures uncommon. They gave what they had.

 

When they left, I imagine eyes gleaming and they surely knew more, but still not everything. So much was yet to be revealed. We don’t know much after that except a couple things.

They were told by the powers that be to come back and give a full account. And when you get that kind of directive from a real king and military ruler, you’d think you ought to follow the expectations.

 

BUT… though they could have done what most would do, before returning to business as usual, they were different. Different now.

After they encountered this One, and this light. They gave themselves over to something new- they could have bowed to wishes of one they would have been worldly wise enough to know was not rejoicing at a new king. Anyone could have. 

BUT…they rejoiced and they traveled differently instead.

Encountering the light and the One of whom the star foretold they carried something of that encounter and walked differently.

It almost sounds easy, this walking.

But…it’s not.

Sisters and brothers, still today the light comes. Shining in our world. Still today God enters in ways we can observe. In people and places and events anyone could see, calling us to notice.

But…perhaps by looking for the grand, we overlook the simple yet powerful witness -That the Christ has come-The light shines. To lead us to give ourselves over to the new and joyful possible before us. Leading us to walk differently and shine as ones who have been touched by this light. Because in Christ we can.

 of Form

I close with words of Walter Brueggeman written for this day:

We are still the people walking.

We are still people in the dark,

and the darkness looms large around us,

beset as we are by fear,

 anxiety,

 brutality,

 violence,

 loss —

a dozen alienations that we cannot manage.

 

We are — we could be — people of your light.

 So we pray for the light of your glorious presence

 as we wait for your appearing;

 we pray for the light of your wondrous grace

 as we exhaust our coping capacity;

 we pray for your gift of newness that

 will override our weariness;

 we pray that we may see and know and hear and trust

 in your good rule.

 

That we may have energy, courage, and freedom to enact

 your rule through the demands of this day.

 

 We submit our day to you and to your rule, with deep joy and high hope.   AMEN

The Star is the Light

Earlier tonite we had over a hundred people here for our Family Service, and one of the features of it is that the kids of our congregation and our afterschool program, the Doves Nest, help us tell the nativity story in real life. I found costumes and even animals, this year including sheep and cow hand puppets. This year as we were planning for the Family Service and our acting out of the story of the birth of Jesus, one of our youth insisted he did not want a role in any way. Which was kind of understandable because he is a high school student surrounded by little kids. I pondered for a moment as he and his family were there-what to do for someone who doesn’t feel part of this if he doesn’t want to be a shepherd, or a wise man or really anything. But yet he came to practice. And then, Shazam!

“You can be the star!”  I exclaimed excitedly, which of course got the most confused, skeptical, even irritated look.  After all he had just said he did NOT want a role. “The star,” I said again, gesturing and holding my hands above my head to demonstrate. “We need someone to hold the star over the holy family.”  This received a crinkly but growing and even grateful smile. And after a moment kind of a look of pride that he could as the tallest, and seemingly awkwardest one have a place in the story after all.

At home, my daughter and I set about trying to make a star, and after a lot of cutting and glue and glitter and hope, turned some discarded cardboard into a mighty fine but not audacious star. And I imagined him standing there in this unexpected joy that had replaced his expectation of disappointment.

That star led me to the focus I want to share tonight-The star is the Light.

Not just literally because stars, glowing orbs fiery gas shine in our night sky. More to the point- in the face of all our striving to make Christmas perfect to overcome our disappointments. In our longing to be stars for a just a moment-

into this world of ours, comes the real star-The Light. The star of this night and our whole lives is the Word- Jesus Christ who brings light to the world.

As we look around we can see just how much we all long for the light. In today’s paper on the front page were two stories of this side by side. The one on the left is about a man who has been working since mid-October to string 60,000 lights and synchronized music. Competing in a national TV contest to win $50,000. And he won! The quote in the paper from his wife is that since he was never athletic she was glad he could finally say he won something. Wow.

The second story was of a woman whose mental health and financial troubles led to her electricity being turned off in October, and until members of her church found out she had no light, no heat, nothing. One person is immersing himself in lights and another wondering if she really would just be in the darkness. And there it is.

I wonder if our profusion of lights and inflatables and the escalation of getting more, faster, suggests we long for the chance to overcome he dark places we know all too well. Then imagine that first night when the star was the light. There was no display of fine things. It was not beautiful. Or even light. And perhaps Mary like poor women still in the world, gave birth in the dark, perhaps without any light at all. Lonely and scared just hoping it would be OK. Yet-this is how and where God chose to enter. Not to encourage us to ignore the dark, to meet us in it and help us walk into the light.

This night we came here to step out of dark places and into the light. Each with our own stories, to Christmas- knowing we all strive to create those star moments. Perhaps ones where we hope the light will hide our lives so we can be our best selves, if just for a moment. Maybe it’s the first Christmas without a loved one, or another week without a job. Or Mom’s dementia is worse, or the medication isn’t working. Or you walk with a secret or wonder where everyone has gone.

The poet Wendell Berry says that “it gets darker and darker and darker-

and then Jesus comes.”

Jesus has come. Somehow the light comes. It is quiet but wondrous news that God comes to remind us again that we don’t have to be stars. We don’t have to be stars to receive Christ.  

We the people who walk in darkness are shown the light. It’s not overwhelming, or domineering. It’s also not artificial or temporary. It just IS. Light for us.

It’s what I think moves us to tears when we sing Silent Night in the candlelight. That flickering yet hopeful moment. It almost seems fragile. Yet we realize how powerful God is in the stillness with the light and the birth of a baby.

We silence the noise, as God shows us the holy and reminds us that we all really do have a place after all. In the light.

To grasp that who we are for real is exactly who God seeks out to love and to save. And that is wondrous news! It’s not about us and how we Christmas.

God’s life dwelling among us invites us to see the real star and to point to that light. God in Christ with us-not only in this night but in all the days to come. We don’t know how, but it is so.

I close with words of blessing from Jan Richardson:

I cannot tell you how the light comes.

What I know is that it is more ancient than imagining.

That it travels across an astounding expanse to reach us.

That it loves searching out

What is hidden, What is lost, What is forgotten Or in peril or in pain.

That it has a fondness for the body

For finding its way toward the flesh

For tracing the edges of form

For shining forth through the eye, the hand, the heart.

I cannot tell you how the light comes, but that it does.

That it will.

That it works its way into the deepest dark that enfolds you

Though it may seem long ages in coming

Or arrive in a shape you did not foresee.

And so may we this (night) turn toward it.

May we lift our faces to let it find us.

May we bend our bodies To follow the arc it makes.

May we open

And open more

And open still

                                 To the blessed light that comes

 

Sisters and brothers-Rejoice in the light! And may the light of Christ born for us shine in our hearts and in our lives! Amen