Promise in the Dust

Today, as a part of beginning this Lenten season, I took a picture. Each day in Lent, I will be taking a picture that coincides with a word from Scripture during the Lenten season and then contemplate where that picture takes you in connection with the story of Scripture and our lives. Everyday taking a picture and posting it to #lent2015. Appropriately enough, today’s prompt was “dust” and as you might imagine most of the pictures I saw posted to Facebook, Pinterest, and Instagram were of the ashes we’re wearing tonight. I decided to take a picture that was not the expected. I could just take a picture of the dust of the ashes, but I was looking for something more connected to me than that. Something that spoke of our daily existence and what it comes down to. I ended up instead, taking a picture of dryer lint.

And you know, if you stop and think about it, dryer lint tells a story- it not only tells what you were wearing and using, but where we have been. It tells of our living, reacting and responding. Look closely enough and it tells our struggles and failures, frustrations and heartaches. And it tells our joys and hopes and dreams pursued.

And especially with children, that dust came complete with the occasional partial Kleenex, candy wrapper, loose change or ticket stub interspersed. Each representing the sadnesses, celebrations, losses and triumphs of a life.

Perhaps that little label “Clean after each cycle” reminds us that dustiness is our reality but God longs for us to start anew. Dustiness is what we all share.

Young and old, at the end of the day, what is left, is our dust, and frankly, scientifically, we also carry the dust of others. And if you’ve ever gone to the laundromat, and had the dryer someone else forgot to clean, you know the moment- having to clean up someone else’s dust. It’s hard enough dealing with our own. In any event, at the end of the day, the week, a life, what we see is what we leave- dust.

Today we are reminded of our dust.

And as we look around the world, we see it on a larger scale- the giant swirls of trash in the ocean, those piles now sometimes given names, which breaks my heart; the belching of factories taking life up and downstream and people can’t breathe from all the dust; and the unquenchable thirst for violence reducing people and places to dust in ways the prophet Joel couldn’t even fathom. As we ponder how on earth we can possibly overcome these forces that seem to inevitably point to destruction, what we see is our limitation, and our frailty.

Today we are reminded we are but dust. The ashes more vividly remind us of our dust, our ashness.

Years ago, as we took our children to church for Ash Wednesday , it was the day most feared. And it all started when Catherine was very young. We carried her forward for ashes as a preschooler, at an age just old enough to be aware. Our pastor at the time had a booming voice and a particularly large thumb. There was our girl, confronted by this seemingly enormous black thumb approaching her, too close, and the voice thundered “Remember you are dust. And to dust you shall return!”

And perhaps in the truest response to such a pronouncement, she responded perhaps as we all might, or might want to. In a high pitched lament, she cried out, “Noooooooo!” And burst into tears. While at first we laugh, if we stop and think about it, perhaps she expressed what if we allowed ourselves to think it, was our response.

If we allow ourselves to think it, we can see our mortality. Today we are reminded we will be dust. Today we are reminded of our dust.

And that is for me the thing about Ash Wednesday- that cross we bear breaks into our world and tells us what we try not to hear, or contemplate. It breaks in and speaks intimately, too close.

Yet, as soon as we say return to the Lord, we are already feeling that “too close.” And amidst the ashes of our lives are, as Walter Brueggeman writes, “burdened with the tasks of the day, (and) we are already halfway home, halfway back to committees and memos, halfway back to calls and appointments, halfway on to next Sunday, halfway back, halfway frazzled, half expectant, half turned toward you, half rather not.”

Please don’t make us confront our ashness. The consequences of our living, the limitations of our control and our frailty. How totally opposite that cross is to our world which attempts to minimize and sanitize, or to dominate and isolate any experience of what real life and death involve. We would rather insulate ourselves.

We’d rather not hear the prophet pleading-consider your ashes, and consider how far you’ve strayed. We’d just as soon not look at how many layers insulate us from reality. That black thumb my daughter feared, you see, truly represented our reality. And while we have over the years made receiving ashes a once a year act-saying “we got ashes.” There is the truth- we’ve always got ashes.

Brueggeman writes in his poem “Marked by Ashes”

“All our Wednesdays are marked by ashes- we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth; of failed hope and broken promises, of forgotten children and frightened women, we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust; we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.”

And what is the response to this? Today at Bible study we talked about someone’s experience in worship on Ash Wednesday of a garment being torn- rending a garment is no small act. And act of mourning, or of contrition. The ripping open of what seems to be woven and fused together. And comparing that to our hearts. As God, our God calls to us to rend, to break open our hearts and return. Break through those layers of ash and insulation so we not only see the reality of our ashes, we see the reality of our Lord,

It’s not too late- come back to me. Fast from your ashness-from the ashes we bear each day. The ones we bring to this place each week. To come and experience changed hearts.

Come back to the God who is YOUR God. Who is not just saying, but begging, pleading, longing. God’s heart is torn by our absence. God longs to restore us and take our ashes. And make us new.

Richard Lischer writes, “it is only in Jesus that (our ashes) are gathered together in the shape of a cross. Time and time again we bring them to him, and then return to our mortal lives with something far better.”

The God who formed us out of chaos and ashes, gives us new form in Christ. Out of these ashes.

As Marcia Shultz writes, there is promise in the ashes

“No! I thought.

No black cross

Not on my forehead

No revealing mark

Of failure

Of grief

Of death

No.

But yes,

Take up your cross

Be marked

Perishable

Fragile

Blessedly alive

Human.

God’s best work

Marked as acceptable

Wounded

Broken

Acceptable to God

Not by my will

But Christ alone

Bearing the Cross

Wearing the Cross

In hope

The sign of the promise

Humanity lived

Fulfilled

Redeemed

By Christ alone.

This is the journey we enter and we pray to our God who promises that dustiness may be our reality but not our destiny.

Onward Christian Soldiers

When I was talking with the girls, one of the things they immediately told me when we were planning the service was the fact we had to sing “Onward Christian Soldiers” because it was Donald’s favorite. As I looked at the many accomplishments in Donald’s life I could see that pattern of always moving vigorously forward the way the music suggests by its very beat. Always onward. Throughout his life’s work, and his commitment to conservancy, evidenced this day, his commitment to local government. And vigorous describes his commitment to this place, where it was well known and understood that unless you were sick, you were here! Onward! And in his life in the military and many years beyond he also lived in that overarching theme of victory. But then I thought about this day.


A day where we are here to celebrate the life and witness of a man who touched lives and lived fully and also here to proclaim resurrection victory through Christ in the face of his death. And in our loss we sang “Onward Christian Soldiers.” No matter how strong or weak we feel this day, joining that same voice across time. Yet words that sound different as the cross is not leading a throng of mighty men, but a single casket. “Like a mighty army moves the church of God, walking where saints have trod.” We join the song across the ages of the many who now are the saints. And it is at this moment made clear-these are words we can only sing in faith. Grasping in faith that improbable kingdom of God where our only weapons are faith and the Spirit. Reminded that our hope comes from reliance on more than the promises and protection we can muster, but what comes only from the power of God.

As I read Donald’s obituary he seemed larger than life, he was a giant. Not in a self-proud way, but simply a man who used well the gifts he was given by the Creator. I only knew him in this past year- in a very different time. And he was aware of its difference. He had suffered significant chronic health concerns though, in spite of them, in later years, he marveled in the year 2000 that he never expected to see the turn of the century yet through the power of prayers God brought him moments of unexpected healing and another 12 years after that century mark. All the way to 85, sharing yet again that birthdate he and Donna have in common. I believe in these fading years Donald grasped not so much a feeling of marching by one’s own strength, but a feeling of being carried by God.

Our Scripture readings this day all point to the fact- that no matter how accomplished we were in our lives, no matter whether you can trace your family back to the 1700’s, it all comes down to what God gives us- new life in Christ, and faith and the Holy Spirit to believe. In the words of Isaiah, and the words of our Psalm- we hear we can look to God for comfort, and strength, believing that we will receive them and have peace. That God is our helper. Certainly in these last days for Donald and for his family God has provided what only God could give- helping hands, moments of serendipity and the ability to be together with him at the critical time. In these waning times, there have been many such tender moments to sustain.

In later years as Lillian and Donald were separated in two different units for care, Lori was able to arrange to take them to a Hampton Inn overnight so that they could have a meal together and stay together and share in times of closeness that feed our souls. A great act of love shared made even greater by the fact that the Hampton Inn chose to not charge Lori for the room- an act of love and kindness. And there are many of these stories- of God placing people and blessings at just the right time. Right down to the loving care of the folks at St Joe’s who were able to let the family know it was a critical time. They say that the last of our senses to fade is hearing and I believe it brought peace and comfort that he could hear his family in that moment God gave them together. They could gather like that small but mighty army, to surround him with love that greatest of gifts- To be able to be there to complete an earthly circle. As someone said, he was there for our first breath and we were able to be there for his last.

These are the moments when we truly hang upon Jesus’ promise in the gospel- I am the resurrection and the life as an earthly life ends. This is the moment when we have to believe that it is more than living this life excellently. We are here to speak and sing that resurrection and to say-I believe. Over and over again Jesus uses this word in the Gospel of John often. Believe, believe believe…It’s actually best translated “keep on believing, keep on living into belief.” Over and over again. Said by a God who knows we need to be reminded and offering up for us to hear-Jesus words as we read them, and as we share them with one another. Sharing faith in the cycle of places we travel- not only in places of joy or victory or birth, but in places of fear, and death and doubt. Keep Speaking, keep believing.

Words for us this day. These words of Jesus day came as Martha meets Jesus to tell him that her brother is dead and to chide him- “if only you had been here.” This day we instead give thanks not only for Donald’s life but for eternal life he has now received through the power of the cross of Christ. And to this we say- Lord we thank you that you are here!

And that because of you, death does not have the last word

Because ultimate victory is yours in Jesus the Christ. A victory you give to us to share. This is what pushes us onward- your power alone. And this is how you carry us- as we await the day when we’re gathered with Donald and all your army of saints

In peace and for eternity. Amen.



POSTSCRIPT: Because the deceased was a former Fish and Game Commissioner, there was an honor guard in uniform who stood watch at the casket and who served as pallbearers. Because he was a military veteran of distinction there were military honors at graveside. As we arrived at the cemetery, there was a dove that came and sat in the tree above my head. (A little worried about how that would turn out for me) After the committal, and the salute and taps were played, the dove flew away. As it happened the Fish and Game officers caught notice as did I. When we shared this with his daughters, one said that when he father helped her work on her house, every day there was a dove that came and sat there while they worked on her porch. It gave her comfort to think of her father checking one last time before flying off.

Keep Following, Keep Listening

Listen!

From the very beginning of Mark, we’re compelled to listen. To the voice of the one crying in the wilderness, to the voice of God proclaiming at Jesus’ baptism, “You are my Son, in whom I am well pleased.” To listen to Jesus as he calls the disciples saying, “Follow me and I will transform your lives.” But after that it gets hard. Hard to know what to listen to and to figure out what Jesus means. He makes unclean spirits listen and be gone, heals the sick, lepers, the paralyzed and blind, in entire towns and regions, and He gets really popular. His followers listen to the demands of the people for more-"let’s stay and be celebrities." But Jesus says “Listen- we have other places to go.”

He gathers people to eat with him and listen to his teaching, while the powers that be and those who fear him, refuse to listen and try to get others to stop listening. Yet, he calls more disciples and transforms them to carry out his work, even though they’re not quite sure they get what they’re listening to. At one point, confused people wonder if maybe Jesus is really the devil. Rather than listen to him even his own family worries and tries to carry him away thinking he’s lost it.  But he keeps teaching, sometimes in stories that begin by saying “Listen.”

After he commands a storm to listen, he asks his frightened disciples in the boat, “Why are you so scared? Haven’t you been listening? ” But his hometown rejects him, and the prophet who proclaimed him is killed. Maybe it is Jesus who should listen and lay low, but he goes on- feeding thousands, walking on water, healing not only Jews but others and continuing to say, “Listen.”

But is it any wonder, with all of the competing voices, the disciples whose lives are being transformed feel like they are racing to keep up? On any given day, you could never be sure where the road would go next. It’s hard to get what it’s all about.

Even though everything Jesus is doing is what he meant when he first got them to listen, saying-“follow me and we’ll transform lives.”

 So Jesus does a reality check, asking them- “what’s the word on the street?” They repeat well what they’ve been listening to in the crowds. And he responds-“OK, but how closely have you been listening to ME? Who am I to YOU?” Peter proclaims, “You are the Messiah!” And given all the buzz-worthy events this ought to be the turning point. Now it'll be power and fame and glory. Stories that’ll be told in history-“Listen, as I tell you how we were with him in the early days. We took a chance and got in at the right time.”

Instead, Jesus says, “You’re right, this is the turning point, but listen-I will die because of this truth.” And this isn’t at all what they want to listen to.

This is the big picture of everything that happens leading up to what we hear in the Gospel this day. And given the disciples continual disconnect, Jesus could’ve decided to start over with better followers. Instead Jesus keeps leading and takes his closest ones up the mountain and there in the silence, transformation happens before their eyes.  They see him with Moses and Elijah- so he isn’t one of them, and he’s blindingly bright. They’re baffled.

He looks like God, but they know if they look on God directly they’ll die. God needs to hide in a cloud or a bush or something. Perhaps nervously, Peter says “Hey! I’ve got an idea! Let’s stay here and hang out with Moses and Elijah. And Jesus, did I mention you are a GREAT Rabbi?” Maybe they even wonder if they are alive now or dead. They had every right to be terrified. It’s hard to imagine standing there in this moment that drives them toward the answer to the question everyone has been asking- “who is this?” Jesus is the chosen Son of God.

And this is the turning point. Because everything that follows will reveal what Jesus is chosen for and how far God’s transformation will go.

To even begin to respond to what that means for them,  they need to hear the directive God speaks that overpowers the confusion-“Listen!”

 Because then the moment is over. One little glimpse of glory before back down the mountain, still trying to figure it out. On a road with twists and turns, and times they’ll forget to listen, or be confused, or scared, or doubt. Just like us.

At best we get little glimpses of God’s presence on a journey that we can’t really fathom. We speak of an amazing and powerful God, but it’s hard for us to grasp what it means, or to go where God’s transformation is leading. And with all the competing voices, frankly, we wish we had a little more to work with, as we fight the feeling of staying put. And our fears, our interests, our desires tell us not to listen to the will of God, or we at least convince ourselves that what we want is God’s will. And yet... we want to truly follow. We really do.

To sort out what it all means, we continue to need God to overpower the confusion- and we need to listen. Thomas Merton captures this with these words:

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing .I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And…that you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

The gospel for us this day is not only that Jesus was revealed to be the Son of God. But that Jesus repeatedly labors, walking with us, leading us to understanding. To get us to listen, saying- “follow me and not the crowd.” “Don’t be afraid, I am with you.” And across Scripture, this is God’s story-  continuing to choose and stay with people like us-who for every moment of “getting it” have lots of moments of lost, afraid and doubting and times of asking- “ you want me to do what?!” God continues to choose us, to lead us and to teach us. Transforming us to be more like the image of the Son. With a love and grace and patience that will go all the way to the cross.

As we prepare to enter the season of Lent, God is calling us again to deepen this relationship and our understanding. To continue to be transformed by listening. God knows we continue to wrestle with how to respond.

Our questions remain-“Who is Jesus?” “What’s it really all about for us?” “How can I know?” “How can we do that?”

To all these age old questions, God’s answer continues to be-“Look to my Son. Don’t be afraid, I'm here."

Keep following.

Keep listening.

AMEN

Unsettling the World

We all have our favorite ways to celebrate what this night is about. Favorite hymns, lighting candles, manger scenes. Some churches like to celebrate the Nativity of our Lord in the historically accurate way, with live outdoor nativity scenes giving us some idea of what that First Night was like. Meant to connect us to an event that happened long ago, But the people and animals have had the benefit of being cleaned up, just showing up for the gig. Not having labored to journey there on foot over weeks, or as a woman in her last weeks of pregnancy trudging along when all she really wants to do is put her feet up and relax. When Catherine was about 4 months old we got a phone call from the local Methodist church.  They put on a drive-by living Nativity each year, but that year they were short on babies and they had heard that the Lutherans had 15 babies that year, and would we let them use our daughter for their production? They shared with me a schedule of available nights and times, and I selected a mutually convenient date for her two hour appearance there. But that day there was an ice storm.  And being a good mother I assumed it would be expected that no baby should be out in that so we didn’t go. Well, I got an irate phone call the next day. The Nativity HAD gone on, being accurate and all. They had to use a baby doll for Jesus since I had not brought our daughter to play God’s Son. I had somehow ruined the “authentic” scene they were creating to the glory of God. Our enactments of the birth of Christ are places painstakingly planned, with expectations, and well publicized so we know when to come, making sure the people we want to be there have been told. Everything was planned and I unsettled it.  It was all a little ironic.

The arrival of our Lord was so different. Born in a nowhere place, to an unknown girl, in circumstances that seemed frankly scandalous. Perhaps that’s why there was a birth on the road in the first place. Mary didn’t actually need to be counted in the census. She could’ve stayed with family. Yet it seems it was safer for her and her child to NOT be seen in Nazareth, even though this was an unsettling journey. And whether he was born in a barn, or a stable or a cave- none of those are the sanitized places we depict. They don’t provide the dignity we wish for. And it’s shocking that this birth, of little consequence in the world’s eyes, was seemingly randomly heralded to of all people, migrant workers in a field at night, against the sensibilities of the community. To top it all off, the One who will be the Almighty Messiah still has to “grow up.” I don’t really believe that Jesus was the perfect baby and every night was a silent night. He was nursed, bathed and changed by a first time parent who probably wasn’t all pulled together and serene. Living in a family just getting by in a world that was living in peace, but peace that came with a cost of submission. A fearful peace.  Being born into this world would hardly be the way we wish it had been or would be today.

 We want perfect, powerful and majestic but such interpretations of this night are miles away from reality. Why do we domesticate the humility, simplicity and servanthood of Christ’s Incarnation?   I think it’s because we don’t want to confront our place in a world of pain, waste, blood, and tears. We of the ordered liturgy hope to avoid the chaotic. Don’t show us a world where later Jesus will be on a “Wanted” poster.  It’s unsettling. We want it all ordered, but in truth, our humanity is unsettled, not domesticated. Our crèche and this space look pretty different from our own world.  And even though the angels say,” Don’t be afraid” often we are. The birth of Christ began God’s unsettling of this world.

 Our celebration is a chance to step away from our work, our worries and our world into this space of our inner hopes and dreams. Again this night, we gather here in a special place that we’ve planned and prepared for so that everything is “just so.” But as we pull in close to sing and hold onto the light and get teary eyed about a silent night where all is calm and bright and comfortable, we should remember God didn’t come to save us from this.

The good news is that it’s our real world that God enters. Living and breathing and moving with us as we long for a peace and justice that we cannot see, and for an abundance and comfort we wish we really knew. God comes into THIS WORLD knowing that beyond all of our trappings, we can’t clean it up and we really shouldn’t be favored. Yet unto US a child is born.  God in a tiny vulnerable baby embraced who we really are. What a mystery it remains that Divine God stooped to become one of us, for no earthly reason, but only out of God’s love. To show that God chooses to redeem and save us.  This is the story we can really connect to.

As we proclaim this wondrous event tonite, may we be unsettled from all of our efforts to manage our manger.

Remembering that God’s appearance came first as good news to the un-pulled together. So if you feel like you made it here tonite solely by the grace of God, hear this amazing good news! If you feel it’s an overwhelming struggle to hold it all together, know God’s power and mercy are all we need. And what we receive in Christ. The reason we can know silent nights or joy or peace or hope. This is the good news of Christ!

 And it’s not just for some of us. The heavenly choir and response of the shepherds show this is such good news, it goes way beyond our carefully constructed lists. It’s good news to proclaim with abandon. Tell it far and wide, Come and See! Telling those who GOD favors and wants to hear. This is how we praise God’s glory and power and mercy over all the earth, a goodness that really is as wonderful as the gospel tells. Let’s unsettle the world with this glorious news! And authentically celebrate the coming of Christ by living as those who believe He is indeed the source of great joy for our world, and the One who makes real peace possible- for you, for me, forever.  AMEN

Good News From the Wilderness

It’s that time of year. Time for my favorite Christmas special -“Merry Christmas Charlie Brown.” Charlie Brown’s directing the school Christmas pageant, but no one’s listening. Everyone’s caught up in details, of their costumes, who got the bigger part, their naturally curly hair. They’re distracted. They don’t seem to get it’s really all about. Here in the neighborhood lots of houses remind me of the show’s depiction of Snoopy’s doghouse with the lights and the blowup Santas and the head bobbing lit reindeer. Mind you, I’m not being judgmental- I love the lights too. But as I listen to people in their decorating, I hear that we race to get out more and more decorations to cheer us up. And some people don’t put them all up at once so their neighbor can’t outdo them. It happens in church too- we need bigger and better stuff to get the party started, and it’s not enough, we need more. NOW. Charlie Brown’s high hopes leave him disillusioned and then we hear Linus’ simple speech on an empty stage that brings good news that another strand of Christmas lights can’t. He walks alone onto the empty stage, with his blanket, stands in a single spotlight, recounting the opening of the Gospel of Luke we’ve all come to know, in response to Charlie Brown’s question of “what’s the true meaning of Christmas?”

 Like Charlie Brown I wonder- I wonder if we lose sight that we’re not focusing on what really matters. Even with the Christmas story. Even the other Gospels give us what we’ve come to expect about the story of Jesus in the buildup to Christmas. The Gospel of Mark is well… a little under-whelming. It’s not the “more” we need to “get us in the holiday mood.”  You can’t decorate with the Gospel of Mark. There are no shepherds in the fields, or three kings from afar. No guiding star. No manger scene with cows and the donkey. No heavenly chorus in the skies. No little baby for us to cuddle.  We get Jesus in his 30’s, beginning his ministry with an opening line so sparse we can simply rattle it off as the necessary intro to get the story moving: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, Son of God.” In the face of all of the buildup in commercial Christmas, and even the other gospels, when we hear the words in Mark it feels like someone suddenly pulled the plug on the lights and we’re left with a deflated blow up Santa in a heap on the ground. And at the end of commercial Christmas decoration season that’s all we’ll have when we pull the plug.  There has to be something more.

“The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ” feels a little sparse. Maybe we could simply leap over these words, and at least get to John the Baptist in his funky camel hair outfit, and those locusts. What IF in this first of the gospels shared with the early believers, we don’t hear all the flashy stuff because it could distract us from THE thing?

The opening words are a statement of faith about God’s good news that shaped the whole Gospel of Mark. To force us to see that what it’s all about is that Jesus’ arrival is how God’s good news happens and Jesus is God’s good news happening. Good news! Mark talks about good news a lot. So today we’re going to learn a little Greek- euangelion. It means “good news!” This is the beginning word and it’s where words like “evangelism” and the “evangelical” come from. Something to think about when we get worried that people see “evangelical” in our name as the Evangelical Lutheran Church and wonder if we’re THOSE kind of Christians. Buried under all the other meanings- the real way the gospel means it, evangelical Christians are: followers of Christ who bear the good news.


Marks’ gospel says, “This is how the good news of what happened in Jesus started, before we even knew what was happening.” Then the people listening heard words of the prophets they knew well- including Isaiah- Remember what Isaiah said?” He said there’d be good news! 23 times. It must really be true.


Quoting Isaiah means that NOW is when hopes and dreams are being fulfilled. We’re not just telling a story again and longing. God’s bringing something more powerful NOW. Even John the Baptist’s clothing says this. Ever wonder why he’s the guy wearing the camel skin and belt? Early listeners would have known- He’s dressed like Elijah, one of THE prophets!” A little Bible trivia. The point is-God’s plan for salvation really IS breaking forth NOW. And it’s good news!




The good news is Jesus Christ. The REAL story is always about “the good news of Jesus Christ.” And we should really call Him “Jesus the Christ.” Because Christ isn’t just a name, Christ isn’t Jesus’ last name, it’s a title. it’s how Jesus carries out the good news. “Christ” means “anointed by God, chosen for this purpose-to free, redeem and save us. Jesus is this, but it won’t look like we expect. Because God loves us enough that we don’t just get another baby born, or another prophet, or another great man. We get God with skin. This is the story of how Jesus= the good news. Jesus embodies the same love God showed when God led Israel out of exile and wilderness to freedom and life. But better! Jesus=salvation.


And we need to be prepared for this new reality.


John the baptizer says make the way straight and we hear about repentance. What he’s saying is “radically reorient your focus around the truth of Jesus the Christ.” We don’t get tips for surviving in the wilderness, but how to be brought out of it and into life. Open up, prepare, clear out the distractions and make room for this good news to enter.


Wherever your wilderness places are, the ones you’re trying to feed in some other way, maybe even another strand of lights-hear the good news! God is near. Jesus says, “turn back and believe this good news!” “Respond to this good news, it gives life! “ And don’t just hold onto it. Jesus will tell all who listen and follow-“this good news must be preached to all nations, lived and proclaimed to the whole world!” And it’s just beginning!


We’re not just hearing a story, we’re in it! Part of God’s ongoing good news, as those baptized not only by water but the Holy Spirit. Called to channel our energy around God’s vision.


Last Sunday was one example. For those far from home, far from familiar faces, life can feel like a wilderness existence. God and community seem distant. When God’s love breaks through, it’s good news! God’s good news and love will come to those who receive the 45 bags we prepared last Sunday. We shared good news with the homebound, stressed out college kids and people serving in real wildernesses in military deployment. Those gifts will proclaim Christ-life, love, hope and “salvation from the wilderness.”


When we do these things, we’re getting a little evangelical. We really are THOSE kind of Christians- who speak and live the good news of Jesus the Christ. But we’re not focusing on what WE do, but what God in Christ has done and is doing. God doesn’t need us to spruce it up. Instead God wants to re-shape our lives around the only and ultimate fact we need. That in “the beginning of the good news, of Jesus, the Christ, the anointed and our Savior- God acted.”


And God is still acting. This is the real meaning of it all. And it’s the real power that brings us back from our wilderness places and the message we share with others in theirs. We’re caught up in the middle of God’s unending and loving plan for salvation. It’s a power that goes on and on. That’s not just good news, it’s the best news. AMEN

Finding the Story of Hope

This past week, on Tuesday, a woman and her 8 yr old set up a tent in the parking lot of one of the Big stores. It was them against the world, waiting for the opening of Black Friday sales. The ad had a really great teaser price for a toy everyone wants but only a couple will get. Hundreds of people lined up in hope even though it’s dangerous to be first in line, with crowd stampedes in stores, or this year someone decided to pepper spray everyone who might get the toy first. Every year we hear about people actively committed, vigilant, waiting for the clerk to come and open the door, so they can get the thing they hope will make it all better, til the next fad. We all tell their stories. And every year we hear stories about nailing down the timeline for the fate of the world. I think it’s no surprise there are more predictions this year- we’re increasingly disheartened and nervous in the world. This week brought another Mayan calendar discovery. We anticipate these stories, sharing the news that at least will distract us from our lives. But our time isn’t unique. It was a troubled and confused world Jesus was born into. A world hoping that something or someone powerful would come make it better.


Today we begin the season of Advent which places us at odds with our world. While everyone’s hoping to get the right stuff that will bring happiness, we’re called to focus in a different way and to tell a different story. To light a candle and tell God’s story. Calling to God- Stir up your power and Come! This candle tells the story of hope. We remember the waiting- what happens that leads to Jesus’ birth. But also what happens after Jesus’ death. In the midst of the season of manufactured joy, today’s gospel speaks Jesus’ last words to the disciples before the cross- Stay awake and aware. Stay focused. But how can we? In an onslaught of ads telling us to buy happiness, and people telling us we should because all this God stuff is just a pipedream? Now more than ever maybe we identify not only with the gospel, but with the words of Isaiah – as people who feel alienated, stunned by their experience, who tell God-“Hey, no one is speaking your name. No one takes hold of you, Lord. Don’t be mad at us, it’s hard to be in this place.”

And this is the point of Jesus’ words to the disciples. They’re intended to be words of hope, because God knows the world we live in. But, lots of people look at today’s gospel and get frustrated. We still want hope in the form of a real timeline. Instead we get planets and weather and a fig tree. So people try to look for signs, or hidden meaning and then lump it together with Armageddon and power. Next thing you know it’s negative and frightening and judgmental. Words of hope become words of fear as we cringe and wonder about what we see. Then “Keep awake” sounds like we need a 5 Hour Energy Drink, and if we do fall asleep, it better be at the right time. But remember these words of Jesus to the disciples are words of hope. If we begin reading just two verses earlier, I think it helps us frame our perspective. Jesus tells them and tells us:

“There’ll be lots of fake prophets and fake saviors.” He’s preparing his followers for the world after the cross. People struggling to know the real truth about Jesus and God’s vision. Where so many things will be said and done in Jesus’ name we’d need help to clarify and preserve the truth. People will rise up against the powers that be, then claim this revolt would usher in the return of Christ- Lots of misunderstandings. So Jesus says “keep focused on what you can rely on- My words. Focus your belief and actions on what is real.” We all face those times when we say, “We’re looking for you, Jesus but we can’t see you. Where are you? Is our hope real? We’re surrounded by unbelieving, sinful people.” The generation we hear of, I think is made up of all the people living on earth til the return of Christ, of those who won’t believe, who will hurt others, and bring destruction. Who will sidetrack us with predictions of what we can’t know-use up our energy that could better be spent elsewhere. Or who tell us that none of that matters, so do what you feel ‘cause it’s all temporary. All of this can lead us away from our focus- what it means that Christ was born AND died AND has risen AND will return. This is what we as disciples have been given to preach and teach about as we make disciples. So Jesus reminds, “When I return it will be unmistakable. But you can’t know the time or compel it. Lots of people will tell you otherwise- But stay focused and resist this, and the fear it brings. Live in my hope.”

How do we live in this hope when we need something to hold onto? We tell God’s story in the birth of Jesus.

In Advent we remember and celebrate the birth, how God has acted in this promise that speaks hope. We remember the waiting and then the joy. But we also tell God’s story in the Cross. We aren’t just remembering “Baby Jesus,” but Christ of the Cross. God acted in this promise too, in waiting and then joy. We wait for the return of a Crucified and Risen Christ where there will then be joy. The ongoing story of God fulfilling promises, bringing hope. Telling this story we can live in hope that God is still at work. Then keeping awake isn’t about looking for predictions but proclaiming God’s power, focused on God’s Word for us. There will be times we confess, “Lord, we couldn’t see you and we stopped speaking your name, we stopped taking hold of you. “ But the stories remind us that then God really does take us and form us anew, we’re not forsaken. The distance from the resurrection to God’s ultimate promise is unknown but when we gather and tell the story, we share Christ with us, for ourselves and for other.

And so we tell the story again- We light the darkness and remember what God has already done and hold onto where God is going. Yes, Baby Jesus in the manger matters, but the real reason we have hope is also about everywhere Jesus goes after the manger- fulfilling God’s hope and salvation. While lots of other people and ideas will come and go, these are the words that are constant. That give us hope so can again call, “Stir up your power, Lord and COME! “ And believe.

AMEN

Meeting our Master in Neediness

As the new girl in town I was blessed to preach the Thanksgiving Eve ecumenical service- what a blessing!


I’d like to start out by asking a question: How many of you are planning on flinging yourself on the ground, with your face in the dust as the way of saying thank you tomorrow at your Thanksgiving meal? Any takers? No, me either. It’s not exactly our way of giving thanks. It doesn’t seem like us. Yet in a lot of ways we’ve made being thankful fit our needs. From turning to Hallmark to find the right words for us to funding research to show being thankful is worth it. Studies show that being thankful improves our health, and relationships, and business success. So we can feel good. And Lord you know we’re busy,it’s hard to find time to be thankful. So we hope it’s OK to offer perfunctory words to a God who’s just pleased we say thanks, who just wants a minute of our time. Right?




The leper’s response is fundamentally different, profound and worshipful. Heartfelt. Many of us will say thanks tomorrow, many of us have a usual prayer. I confess I too am not agonizing over the prayer nearly as long as the preparations for the meal. We’ve been busy trying to outdo ourselves. Making sure we get it right. Have the meal at a time that allows me to go to yours AND the other side of the family too. To do the expected things. But we are hurrying to meet our schedule and of course, football. With the table groaning with the weight of the food and we remember Wait! Someone should say grace, but Hurry up while it’s all hot. Hurry before it conflicts with our scheduled lives. When I was gorwing up I remember years when grace sounded like this: “Blessusolordforthesethygiftswhichweareabouttoreceivethroughyour bountyinchristsnameamen.” 48 years of living have shown me a few Thanksgivings like that. Thanks that’s not too deep or needy.




The lepers were needy. That’s not a word we like. We don’t like to think about neediness. Their community was built on neediness. The disease they had in common drew them together. But all of the really important relationships had been cut off. Then they meet Jesus, who tells them it’s all changing and go and do what restores you. Seeing the priests would restore them to community and more importantly, from God’s perspective, to worship. But I wonder was their first thought was about being glad to worship in the temple or about their other rights and privileges-to eat and drink and socialize? I’m not sure, but for nine former lepers, they could now wake up and say the expected morning prayer of thanks they used to:” I give you thanks God, that I am not one of THEM!” I’m chosen.

For nine this works.

But for the tenth, the Samaritan, he’s one of those people the other nine will resume giving thanks they are NOT. Going back to this status quo doesn’t work. Going back to the way it was is still being left out. Going home meant picking up the same old labels, limits, violence and prejudice. It would after all, be expected. To stand with a different idea would take more than faith in the status quo. Yet, he’s been healed by a man who should never have had anything to do with him even if he weren’t a leper. So who would do this? And why? It must mean something more. Who is this man for whom distinctions don’t matter? It has to be about something more that liberates and restores in a larger way than the status quo. That’s not just healing that’s salvation. He ponders this I think because what Jesus does and brings forth is a game changer.


For most of us being able to gather together and eat tomorrow is expected, not a game changer. Most of us will thank God for blessings of loved ones and family and the mashed potatoes. I doubt we’ll sit down and speak of our neediness and of being saved from the status quo by Christ. I doubt we’ll sit down to dinner and think about THAT when we say the words of thanks we call “grace.”

That would be a real leap of faith. Our holiday of Thanksgiving began after a gut wrenching time in this country, nail-biting existence. A community galvanized by fundamental neediness who realized the status quo had not been enough. That was true in the later 1700’s and again in 1863 when Abraham Lincolnn issued the proclamation on our bulletins. But that’s all been co-opted in our world, both on the official day and in daily living. But turn on the news again today and see than in this world, this country and this city as we look at the collapse of the status quos and people’s general dis-ease today, perhaps we really are called to stop and ponder more deeply.

It really is about something more. What happens in the Gospel BEFORE this story of the ten lepers is that the disciples have asked Jesus to increase their faith. Not to give them faith, but to deepen it.


Jesus first asks them if a servant should be thanked for getting his master a meal. “Of course not!

The servant is just doing his job.” Doing what is expected. That’s not a deep concept.

This is when we hear of Jesus and the ten lepers. Nine saw they were healed and responded with what was expected. The tenth, responded with deeper faith, beyond his condition, with insight into a glimpse of the power of Christ. He wasn’t just healed, he was saved. Which is not about fixing our status quo, or keeping it. The key to understanding how Jesus is about more than this is the word the lepers call him- “Master.” Every time we hear it, something profound happens. Throughout the Gospel of Luke, when someone cries out Master, here is what happens:

When we’ve tried every strategy, used all of our energy, and all of our time, we’re exhausted and we think there is nothing more to be expected-. “Master!” And Jesus tells the skeptical – “try again. Put in the net the way I say” It defies our methods, but the result is beyond comprehension. When things seem dangerously choppy, and perilous, and we feel alone in the churning and uncertainty-“Master!” Out of chaos, Jesus stills the storm. When we think something is too big to be changed, too overwhelming to be reversed, and there is nothing we can do“ Master!” And Jesus brings healing. When we think we know how the world is structured-our Master brings reversal. None of these seem easy or possible and by our hand they are not. That’s right- they’re NOT. This is what the words from our reading from Deuteronomy tell us. No matter how much intellect, or desire or strength we have. Saying “Thank you for ourselves and our status quo” isn’t deepening faith. It’s about seeing ourselves in our neediness and where Jesus meets us. We are all needy.


It takes strength to see our neediness and to respond with more than complacency or civic gratitude. It’s a challenge to see God as Master and go beyond approaching God superficially. But this is where Jesus calls us go- deeper into our hearts. To seek greater understanding of who Jesus is. Jesus is the Master. This is blessing and it’s a challenge because this gospel, this good news, will call us to do more than decry the systems that cause oppression and pain. And calls us to do more than brag about how those problems don't happen in our neighborhood, or in our churches. To see that they do. And to turn to the Master for guidance to do something about it. This gospel calls us to worship and live lives of praise that respond in true recognition of the needs of all us and to respond in true gratitude for God’s power and reversal. It’s a distinct and new way of living. That begins with the realization that only in faith and through Jesus Christ can our world receive what we really need.


To hold in our hearts this profound truth-Our Master changes lives. This is worthy of our thanks and praise!

It’s a struggle to follow Christ in the face of a culture built upon industry and ingenuity as the source and where people tell us systems can’t be changed. Grasping the in-breaking of Christ allows us to proclaim that that there’s no chance for growth and new life if all we are about is token thanks and falling back on our systems. Instead to embrace and proclaim this we really will need the Master. Thanks be to God this is where Jesus meets us, in our need, just like the lepers. Tomorrow when you gather may your heartfelt thanks to the Master be a prayer rooted in this grace.


I close with a prayer for all of us from the Masai people in Tanzania. Let us pray:

For your blessing we thank you, God: faith in you.


Increase it we beg, so that we no longer doubt.

Drive out our miserliness, so that we do not refuse you anything.

Increase our faith, for the sake of those without faith.

Make us instruments of your faith, for those with only a little.

Fill our bodies with your faith, our bodies that work for you all our days.

Help us to avoid the enemies of our faith, or to overcome them.

You are with us in confrontations, this we believe.

In your hands we place ourselves and are secure.

Make haste to enter our hearts, make haste.

Amen.

“Make us Instruments of your Faith” from An African Prayer Book, by

Desmond Tutu, p.  94.

Can You Believe That You Are Blessed?

Here in America's poorest city the flock and I are continuing to get settled in. As I visit our oldest living saints in the parish they share with me the stories of the departed, the history of their time in the parish and wonderful photos of big days and events for them and their loved ones. In a parish that recently celebrated its 100th anniversary, I know that my 94 year old homebound member who grew up here really is a living history of the life of the parish. And they tell me of the day when on Sunday morning the sidewalks were full of people walking to church, of the great confirmation class with 100 confirmands. And there was a building designed to handle it all with German precision.

Of course, time has changed and in the shadow of that experience, other things pale in comparison, and it's easy to become dis-spirited. This is the sense of being "poor in spirit" that Jesus speaks of. To mourn not only loved ones but a way of life.

In my first three months, we will have added six new members, a confirmand and baptized a baby. I count the "yes" not the "no." And we have had a lot of celebrating for these events and our anniversary. We have had opportunities to have breakfast together and lunches together, some of which are the crazy new pastor's idea- let's have a potluck after late service and invite people to come. Because we're all going to eat lunch anyway, because it's budget friendly and it's an easy open thing.

These potlucks look a little out of kilter from structured worship as a couple people off of the street come, or the neighbors whose lifestyle might bother some, join us. Or as an adult child caregiver sits down grateful to feed Mom lunch here. Or the widow knows she doesn't have to eat alone. It's not all precision and polished. We don't need tablecloths or fancy stuff. Or designated servers. Just ourselves, a munchie if we can share one and an appetite. It's OK that everyone doesn't come. It's fine that there is no signup sheet. We don't have to have enormous leftovers to complain about distributing. We just have to have enough. And maybe it means the early ones to eat need to not heap their plate. Or we end up sitting with someone we had no intention of being with. But they are lively get togethers. A moment of chaotic blessing. They look fun.

But recently one of the members told me that maybe we were having too many celebrations. TOO MANY CELEBRATIONS. We should celebrate -less? When I arrived the concern was that maybe they will not make it as a congregation- they fear they will die off. I think it is hard to celebrate an anniversary when you wonder if you really can live up to honoring the legacy of those departed saints.
We need to figure out how to live. But then again, maybe it involves being open-to allow God to bless us even if it looks different. So while this Sunday I will chant the Litany of the Saints and the 20 names for the past year, this sermon is about exploring our faith statement about God and the saints and being blessed not only in the "Great Beyond" but here and now.

As you all know we’ve had a lot of celebrations here since August. Anniversary, new members, confirmation, and on the horizon, baptism and more new members. Lots to be excited by- God’s work in our midst. But someone recently said perhaps we’ve had too many celebrations. Maybe we’re trained to wait for the other shoe to drop. We shouldn’t think too much of ourselves. “Pride comes before the fall.” And we all know that pride is not a saintly quality. We who feel charged with the responsibility of carrying on in the faith are told to seek to live the godly life. To look to the saints. Some of them martyrs or apostles, but also those ordinary beloved we know. They too in death join the saints. Today we remember and celebrate the lives of all those who have lived and died in the faith. I wonder if we don’t sometimes in memory make them more saintly and less human. Forgetting that Saint Peter was quick to put his foot in his mouth and Saint Paul had a wicked temper. That our aunts, uncles, parents, and other loved ones were not cleaned up angelic models, but were saint and sinner all rolled into one when we knew them. Some of the best memories involve the times they were less saintly, in their shortcomings and flaws. The things that make us chuckle or shake our heads- the stories that start with- “remember the time when…?” Yet we this day proclaim in faith that God has blessed them anyway. The same thing happens in our churches- we look upon the saints of days gone by and gloss over the very real struggles and mis-steps. They seemed to get it right, we tell ourselves. And maybe even find ourselves saying- “if only they were here, it would be different.” And we aren’t so sure we can still be blessed.

And then we hear the Beautitudes- our lesson from Matthew. We’ve heard more than our share about these sayings-what could be new? Yet In our longings and doubts, I wonder if we fall into the trap of seeing these sayings like a contract with God-believing that Jesus is setting up the conditions of blessing, rather than actually blessing his hearers. As one writer put it- “ when I hear "Blessed are the pure in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," I tend to think, "Am I pure enough in spirit?" or "I should try to be more pure in spirit." Or, when I hear "blessed are the peacemakers...," I think, "Yes, I really should be more committed to making peace." At least with "blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted," I have the assurance of knowing that on those occasions when I am mourning I will be comforted. But, that's relatively small comfort because the truth is I don't want to have additional mourning to get added blessing.”  Honestly, if this was the case, no matter how much we love our loved ones, who among us can stand up to the “blessed” test?

Fortunately Jesus doesn’t say, “If you do this- THEN the kingdom will be yours.” Instead, Jesus is acknowledging the reality of the earliest listeners and our world today. We find ourselves DIS-SPIRITED- poor in spirit with nothing left to give. Harboring other feelings in our hearts. Feeling under attack; days we have no peace; facing losses that seem too large. Afraid to celebrate.

To all of these places in our lives, Jesus does not say- “wait for the afterlife, and it’ll be better.” Jesus doesn’t tell us it would be better if we had more faith, if we were more saintly. Jesus doesn’t say- “someday but not today, the kingdom will be.” Jesus says “THE KINGDOM IS. AND BLESSED ARE YOU. THE KINGDOM IS UNDERWAY. LIVE AS THE BLESSED.” God wants to bless us not just as saints in eternity but right now.

Are we as eager to be blessed as God is to bless us? Can we believe God wants to bless us or are we still hanging on to our childhood image of Old Testament God-as a stern, demanding law-giver?

Can we imagine God really intends to give the grace we claim in our statements of faith? We all have faults and limitations, insecurities and failings. Would God REALLY unconditionally bless this congregation- knowing who we really are today, knowing that we can’t perfectly hold onto the vision of our ancestors the way we thought?

Is it blessing if we didn’t plan it? Can it really be that God will bless us apart from anything we have done, earned, or deserve?

Can we still really expect celebrations?

David Lose says, “Jesus isn't setting up conditions but rather is just plain blessing people. All kinds of people. All kinds of down-and-out, extremely vulnerable, and at the bottom of the ladder people. Why? To proclaim that God regularly shows up in mercy and blessing just where you least expect God to be – with the poor not the rich, those who are sad not celebrating, the meek and the peacemakers rather than the strong and victorious. This isn’t how the world says it should be.

 But because God shows up blessing the weak and the vulnerable, then God will be everywhere. Showering all creation and its inhabitants with blessing. Unexpected, unsettling, nearly inconceivable, BLESSING.”

This good news means all of those who have gone before, just as imperfect, really ARE saints because in the cross, God loves and adores. This is good news for you and I, fellow saints, because God is STILL blessing as the kingdom continues to unfold. God wants the best and calls us worthy of blessing.  Even when we have a hard time believing it.

Today we’ll name each of those saints who departed their earthly life and proclaim them saints.

 But now I’d like you to look at the people closest to you and tell them now- “You are a blessed saint of God.”

YOU are blessed by God. Let’s open our ears and hearts to hear it, let it sink in. To be transformed for ourselves and our world. To be open to receiving God’s surprising blessings, and to be God’s blessing.

This is how the kingdom unfolds. Then mercy is shown, the downtrodden are uplifted, and peace breaks forth. Because the blessed begin to believe they really are.

 This is the story of God’s will and work in all of the saints across time.  This is where we can place our faith. Let us rejoice and be glad that God is a God who delights to create, bless, and redeem.

 “Come you that are blessed by God, let’s dare to really live in the kingdom that IS.”

 AMEN.

+ note: the picture is from my trip to Greece last year-I pray for all that that country is now facing. I found the work of Brian Stoffregen and David Lose to be great resources!

Living the Faith

Today we lived in faith after a night of horrific weather. We held worship, where some had power and some not. Where some walked icy places to get there. And we had a confirmand who had brought her family from lots of places and called people who used to come to the church to COME! Come and celebrate this part of her journey. And they did. And we did. With moving worship, with youth helping at every point and with a potluck afterwards where we can sit and share and grow in our connections. I used the Reformation Day texts. Here is my sermon and my stole which was an illustration as we considered the texts and the day.

When I was baptized it didn’t happen in church. It took place in a gym because the church wasn’t built yet.  And my godmother who flew in for it almost lost her job because right after the baptism the blizzard started and she got snowed in for two weeks. No one remembers other details but they all remember that story of how it started for me. We all have a story to tell that starts as God’s work in our baptism and continues in each of our lives as we follow Jesus. It starts with ordinary water and some words, but through them God does amazing things. The stole I’m wearing tells this story of God and me. Made of bits of neckties and scarves given to me by people connected to my journey of faith. A story told by bits of ordinary stuff drawn together by a few threads and the work of the Spirit.  God used those little bits and those people to speak of what God has been up to and is still doing. It reminds me of God’s work in me, and of all the people whose faith has shaped mine. At the bottom are the blue parts- reminding me of baptism, when I was claimed as God’s child. The black parts remind me of times I was really scared or unsure. The bright ones remind me of love, laughter and joy. The dove reminds me that through the Holy Spirit God lives in me, giving me this faith and the gifts and strength to be who God created me to be. As it travels from one end to the other- I come back to baptism. In all of those times, I’ve learned more about what it means to say “I believe.” This is the story of each day and our whole lives. As we’re still learning on journeys made up of ordinary stuff that doesn’t seem like much but when you stand back and look, you see its become beautiful. Drawn together by a few threads and the work of the Spirit.  

The threads are lessons in the faith like those we hear told today and the ones lived in the stories of people we meet who make it real.  Like the person who said even though I’d made a really big mistake, I was forgiven by God. Or the person who said whenever he wasn’t sure what to do, he found the answer by coming to church, where God is our refuge and strength. I got picked up, dusted off and reminded not to get too caught up in what I do, not to be defined by my stuff and not to think I can have all the answers. Because we’re justified by God’s grace not our score sheet.  People believed in God’s work in me when I had doubts. People prayed with me and studied with me, helping me really live in God’s word. They shared what it means to live faith. So I share too because this is what it means to affirm our faith. It happens on lots of other days besides “Confirmation Day.” Telling the stories makes the Word real. While each of you isn’t wearing a stole today, each of you is wearing the story of God’s work in your lives as the baptized, drawn together by a few threads and work of the Spirit. Stories that proclaim that only God’s grace, only God’s word and only the faith God gives provide us salvation and life. We have God’s promise that they do.  This is true on big days and ordinary ones.

Today is a BIG day in the life of the Lutheran church. We Lutherans are sentimentally connected to this day when Martin Luther took a big step that brought about major change in the church. Today is also a big sentimental day for Courtney. She was baptized on this date and now today on her baptismal anniversary she’ll affirm the faith God began in her baptism. Big events. Times it is easy to proclaim our faith. But we know there are lots of other days, with ups and downs. Times we think now is not as good because it looks different or feels smaller. Times we feel overwhelmed. Times we see chaos in nature and in our world events and wonder if there really will be a brighter day.  We question our church, our relationships and what we hold true. In these other times we can feel  like someone came along and cut the threads. We feel dis-connected from God and each other.

This is when proclaiming faith to each other really matters. When it reminds us what we need to hear. As we continue to live in God’s word, we should return again and again to remember what it means to follow Jesus. To hear, learn, grow, practice and use what we learn so it becomes a habit. So we get used to responding to the events in our lives and the world around us in a certain way.  In faith. In our baptism we share in what really matters-Christ claiming us, forgiving us and overcoming all in the work of the cross. This is what we can count on, the place we can see refuge and strength, our anchor in the storm. Each day we’re learning , because everyone we meet and everything we face means having to think about its relationship to what we have learned and are still learning about God and the work of Christ.  We need to practice this life of faith. In telling again and again what it means, and in continually reaching out, to reconnect each other, to pull on the threads that draw us back. To reveal God who meets us in these places, honest and real, and who reminds us of our relationships, grace and good news.  Living and remembering our stories together is how God gives us a different way of responding to threats in our lives so we can stop focusing on our worries and to-do lists, where we end up exhausted and tapped out. Living in faith is remembering God’s love for us, and receiving the power to live and to trust God. Reminding each other- Yes! This is what God has done, this is what I believe and this is what I proclaim!

We proclaim it this day as we add another part to Courtney’s story, ours and God’s.  Today as we again speak our faith, may we give thanks to God for the ways we have in all times and places journeyed with God, held together by the threads of our faith and the work of the Spirit.  And may we trust and follow Christ in all our journeys yet to be discovered.  This is us living the faith. AMEN.

Shaking Reality, Not Just Waiting

What comes to mind when you hear the word "waiting?" When I ask this question, lots of people make a wrinkled up face or roll their eyes which I think proves my suspicion. We think of waiting as being a negative experience, of being stuck in time, or living in suspended animation with doubt, questions or uncertainty as our companions. Yet, our lives a made up of lots of waiting events- starting with our waiting to be born- the only waiting we can't remember. We wait for all kinds of things- the mail, test results, for our ride to come. At the grocery store we like to hear that there is a new line open with "No Waiting." Entire industries exist to minimize the experience of our "wait time." Perhaps one of least favorite waiting experience happens when we make a phone call and are placed "on hold." Just thinking about that can make us groan. After awhile a voice is heard, but it is not a live person, but a recording that sounds something like this-"Please continue to hold. Your call is IMPORTANT to us. Someone will be with you shortly." And then we wait some more. Eventually, this waiting with no belief becomes our reality. If I stay on that phone long enough, when a real live person actually answers, I am usually caught off guard- I got used to waiting.

Before we hear John in the wilderness announcing it is time to prepare the way, the people of Israel have been waiting. Theirs is a history of waiting- generations being born and dying waiting for the promise of Messiah. Unending waiting had become their reality. Then one day, Zechariah enters the temple, there to offer the sacrifice and prayers on behalf of the people. In the holy space where one ought to expect the divine presence. But in this reality of waiting, and faithfully going through all of the motions, appears the angel with news that God has heard his prayer. This reality is shaken. And Zechariah answers as one who has been living "on hold" and has been caught off guard. He is stunned and he questions. Unable to speak words of belief, he is struck mute and spends all of Elizabeth's pregnancy in silence. What happened in that new time of waiting?
I suggest that he had time to ponder God's words, to pray and to listen. And in this time Zechariah makes the shift from waiting in doubt to the certainty of anticipation. So much so that by the time he can again speak, the words come spilling forth, unable to be contained- the words of hope and anticipation we sang in our hymn this day- "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel who has come to the people and set them free. Who has raised up for us a mighty Savior, born of the house of his servant David." Through the prophets of old we heard a promise and now that promise is coming true! What our ancestor Abraham was promised in the covenant is happening! God showing mercy, bringing light into the darkness, to those in the shadows, guiding feet into the way of peace-prayer and prophecy are becoming new reality! And he proclaims that John will now be the one who initiates these preparations for the Lord, and brings word of forgiveness of sins and repentance .
Zechariah has made the shift from waiting to anticipating. But those who hear his song, are still waiting. They walk away scratching their heads and wondering what it all means and when. And another thirty plus years will pass before we stand in the story as we do today to hear John proclaim it is time to prepare the way for the Lord.
In our world view we see waiting as passive, negative. But in the Gospel, waiting is active. Preparing the way, filling valleys, making mountains and hills lower, smoothing out rough ways. Not just sitting still, but removing obstacles. It is a different kind of waiting. Perhaps instead of saying we are in a season of waiting, we should proclaim we are anticipating. The difference being that anticipation is rooted in hope, is invested and lives in certainty. The reason for our certainty is that we can hear of God's ongoing activity in our history, of the fulfillment of prophecy and can live not as people "on hold" but as a people certain that God HAS answered. We are in the middle of God's salvation history. Or as one writer suggests perhaps more accurately we are in the middle of the drama of God's stirring up. This stirring unfolding kingdom and salvation. PLAYING NOW.
And we have a role in this drama- we are on the stage carrying out God's drama. We can see in our lives the forgiveness we have received, the times when our ways have been made straight, when we have seen that light in the darkness.
Then we can think of others around us- those who are in need of this message- we don't have to look far. Down the street, in our newspaper, or on TV, we don't have to struggle to see those in need. We who anticipate also are called to participate. When we wonder how there will be peace in our world, when those in darkness can find that ray of light, when those who face obstacles can overcome them, perhaps we should hear the word of the poet June Jordan, writing about South African apartheid- "We are the ones we have been waiting for." We are the ones who continue the work of meeting people in their wildernesses as messengers.
I once heard a sermon by one of the professors at seminary who talked about this notion of God's work in the world. He said something like this-" When you are on the way to do the thing you think you are supposed to do, are called to do, someone will cross your path and in that moment real ministry will happen." People will enter our midst and how we respond prepares God's way- even one more step. I want to share a story with you about how I saw this at work recently. I accompanied our confirmation students, their parents, and members of the Community Outreach Ministry to serve dinner at the Crispus Attucks Center on a Saturday night here in the city. We were there primarily to bring and serve food to those in need.
There were more people than usual- over 150 people in the line. We served the food, but also tried to say "hello" to those coming through. Some said "hi" back, others ignored us, some wanted to tell us what they wanted to eat. One man came through the line looking especially downhearted. One of group became aware of this and caught his eye, and said, " Hi! How are you tonite?" His face crinkled into a smile and he said, "Great!" How could this person who in all likelihood had no permanent home, for whom this meal may be the only one today, be great? When we asked why he was great, here is what he said, " Because you asked me how I am, and I thought no one cared."
We went to serve food but God had more in mind. A moment of proclaiming God's love and care. And in that moment, valleys were made less deep, mountains less tall, and rough ways a little less challenging. We celebrate Christ's birth into our midst- a new reality of salvation happening here. We both recall this birth and look forward to the future fulfillment. May we do so not as people who are just waiting but as people stirred up and bursting with anticipation to share.