Holy Infant, so tender and delicious

Christmas Eve, 2018

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, born to us this night…... Amen.

This year, Christmas 2018, marks the 200th anniversary of our most beloved Christmas Hymn, Silent Night.  No, this carol did not fall out of the sky – tradition says it was created by a young priest named Joseph Mohr in Austria. The poem was 2 years old, but in 1818 Mohr had his friend, organist Franz Xavier Gruber, wrote a guitar accompaniment - easy to sing, to evoke the beauty and serenity of Christmas. And boy, did they knock it out of the park. Can you even imagine Christmas WITHOUT singing Silent Night? Silent Night is ALMOST as essential to Christmas eve as baby Jesus …. (ALMOST!!)

And nothing is cuter than small children singing Silent Night… and trying to make sense of the lyrics:

Silent Night, Holy night, all is calm, all is bright…

Round John Virgin, Mother and Child,

 Holy Imbecile, tender and Mild,

sleep in heavenly Peas (P-E-A-S), sleep in heavenly peas.

Honestly, sleeping in heavenly peas might have been a more comfortable option than where baby Jesus DID end up sleeping – swaddled up in strips of cloth, and laid to rest in a manger – a feeding trough for animals, full of bits of half chewed straw and hay covered in cow drool.

 But one line that always sounded strange to me is: “Holy Infant, so tender and mild.” What a strange way to describe a baby. We know what Father Mohr MEANS by “tender and mild” –adorable and sweet. But “Tender and mild”?

This is especially strange because in the original German, the line is better translated, “baby with the curly hair.” (you can see it in the German first verse that is right there in the bulletin – Lokigen Haar). It was an episcopal priest in New York City in the 1850s to translate the song into English, who must have wanted something good to rhyme with “Child.” Tada… Tender and Mild!  Which honestly makes Jesus sound like a delicious steak or a bread pudding.

But….. perhaps “Holy Infant, so tender and mild” is not actually far from the truth…. Please bear with me, I promise that is not nearly as weird as it sounds.

What we think of as the modern nativity scene – with a wood stable, figurines of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, shepherds, sheep, Magi, camels, angels, and the odd cow or goat, was supposedly invented by none other than animal lover St. Francis himself. St. Francis, who they say wrote “Lord Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace,” pet blessings, and the guy Pope Francis got his name from.

Tradition has it that St. Frances dragged his entire congregation out to a cave outside of town, strew about some straw, gathered some farm animals and unsuspecting parishioners, and erected an altar in the center, and preached the first ever Christmas eve sermon. Later sources tell us he did this to combat the rise of rampant materialism - that apparently was happening way back in 1223 - and to refocus the meaning of Christmas back on the very real poverty of baby Jesus’ birth.

That hits a little bit close to home doesn’t it? Because it seems that some things never change. Since the day Jesus was born, it seems, we have misplaced his meaning, making the season about more and more presents rather than the real presence of Jesus in our lives… and our presence in the lives of the people we love. We bury the rough and rustic reality of the nativity under inflatable snow-globes and mountains of glitter and wrapping paper.

And despite the snow globes and glitter, I bet that today didn’t feel very silent and holy, with not a moment of calm and peace to be found. I bet all of us in one way or another, is searching for what makes the stress of this season worthwhile. What in the world can a 200-year-old song – though very beautiful – say to us in 2018? What is the point of getting dressed up in our best and stressing our families to visit a baby in a manger that was born 2000 years ago?

In 1223, instead of a wooden box full of straw, which is at the center of all of our modern nativity sets, St. Francis instead placed his altar. The manger - altar. Altar – table. A table from which all are welcome to gather, a table for which there will always be a place for you to sit and join in a feast of joy.

The host of this feast, the one seated at the head of this table, is Jesus. Jesus, who didn’t stay a baby forever, who grew up to be a teacher and a preacher, who fed the hungry and healed the sick…. Who dared to tell the religious authorities to take their rules and stick it in a place I can’t say at the 4 PM service. Jesus… who made the rule-makers so angry, that they punished him and tortured him and killed him. Jesus… who defeated death, the grave, and the powers of darkness, who’s light shone so brightly that he could not stay dead. Jesus, who lived, and is alive.

Jesus, who loves all people, the broken ones and the imperfect ones, the ones who aren’t completely done wrapping all their presents, who snapped at their spouse or their parents, who overcooked the potatoes, and who worries about how they are going to pay their credit card bill next month. Jesus feeds and sustains all of us, starting on the night he was betrayed, when he ate his last meal with his disciples and friends who would later betray, deny, and abandon him. 

That night, facing his own death, Jesus raised a loaf of bread, blessed it, and said to these imperfect people, take this and eat it – it’s my body, and I am giving you everything I have. And since that night, each Sunday we remember, and we are fed, and we are given the strength to love and be loved. Martin Luther supposedly said that our outreached hands as we receive communion become the manger for Christ arriving for us and to us.

Holy Infant, so tender and mild. Son of God, love’s pure light. Tonight, we celebrate that love – so tender and mild TOWARD US - being born into the world - the brightening dawn of redeeming grace. And as we light the candle of the people next to us, we get to see how the light grows, tiny flame by tiny flame, until the whole world gets to see that love’s pure light, today and always. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Artist Unknown. 

The Good News: "What can WE Do?"

Sermon 12-16-18

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, amen.

Originally, I was going to start my sermon with yet another funny observation abut how, at the 3^rd Sunday of Advent, we still have no Mary, Joseph, angels, or shepherds, instead a second week in a row of John the Baptist….and add a clever quip juxtaposing John’s threat that the ax is at the root of the tree, while we over here are cutting down Christmas trees left and right  to decorate our homes.

But then we had A WEEK, and instead, I wonder, if John were here, what he would say about it. This week that included news of the death of a 7-year-old girl refugee while she was in the care of the US Boarder Patrol.

And what would John say to bomb threat reported at Sandy Hook Elementary on the day of the 6^th anniversary of that school shooting…. And what would he say about the fact that, Since Sandy Hook, we have had on average 1 school shooting EVERY WEEK.

After a week like this, the judgement and condemnation of John doesn’t seem so out of place. Honestly, at the moment, it feels like we might deserve John’s harsh words. Maybe John is right, we are no better than children of snakes.

From this passage I imagine John as a gritty, sweaty, towering man, thunderously pacing and preaching. He is dunking people left and right, and at the same time admonishing the people in power for their selfish ways. Everything about this guy just seems larger than life, and his challenge those with power and authority is pretty exciting to the average person.

The people listening to John around the river wonder too - is this the one whom we have been waiting for, for so long now? Is he the Messiah? Has he finally arrived to kick out their Roman oppressors? But John says to the people – you think what I’M doing is radical and life-changing? Just you wait! I’m only the messenger, people. The one who is coming after me is going to BLOW YOUR MIND.

John is laying the foundation and churning up the soil to make ready for the coming of Jesus and the beginning of his ministry. He is the warm up act to the headliner; he is the trailer to the full-length film of the coming of God. He is the last of a very long line of prophets stretching back through the ages, and their messages were one and the same – the Lord IS NEAR! And that can be both exciting and terrifying.

Whether it’s for that new movie to come out or for some heavy burden to be lifted from your shoulders, we all know the feeling of waiting, and that can fill us either dread or anticipation. So, as we sit in the middle of this Advent season, this season of waiting and anticipation, where do you find yourself? Are you eagerly awaiting the arrival of Christmas, with all the fun, food, and family it brings? Or are you feeling bogged down with the treadmill of preparations and events, with a sense of dread from all you have left to check off your to-do list? Are you weary from hearing about all the pain we inflict upon one another? Are you tired from feeling powerless in the face of all the Bad News in the world?

To us, John’s “good news” may not sound like “good news”… Or does it? At least the people listening to John thought it was encouraging, because they were emboldened to ask in response “what then should we DO?” Two interesting groups who respond to John’s good news that Luke chose to highlight are the Tax Collectors and the soldiers.

The Roman soldiers were like the bouncers of the empire – the muscle that the empire flexed to keep the oppressed populace in line. And yet, here they are – out there in the desert getting dunked and taking to heart all that John was saying. And similarly, the tax collectors did the Roman Empire’s dirty work – like the modern-day pay-day loan establishment that makes money by preying on people in desperate straits. The tax collectors had job security and permission from the Empire to skim and defraud on top of collecting crippling taxes. They too were moved, and asked “what shall WE do?”

So, what can WE do, as students, as accountants, as teachers and parents, as retirees, as homeowners, as coaches and pilots and cashiers and business owners and real estate agents – what should WE DO?

For all, the basic message of John is about this same – living within our resources, not to overstep, to minimize our footprint, and not take advantage of the power and privilege that we do have. Don’t try to be more than what we are called to be. Don’t impose on the human rights of other people, their right to live…  not just to survive, but to thrive, because that is what we deserve too. That’s good news for all – for us, and for other people too. Jesus came as a little helpless baby, so that we would not forget people who are helpless. And Jesus doesn’t forget US when we are feeling helpless either.

Today we lit the Joy candle. And today we heard Paul write to the Philippians, and to us -Rejoice ALWAYS. Which, on the surface, seems to be the opposite of John’s message.

Really Paul? Always? Are you sure? Surely this guy must have an awesome life to be saying such things. But then we remember that over the course of his ministry, Paul was often chased out of town, beaten, arrested…. and as he writes this letter, he is currently facing jail time for preaching the gospel. And yet, he still gives rejoices. Constantly. Perhaps even somewhat annoyingly. And he tells us to pray too… and give thanks. Even though Thanksgiving feels like a year ago. In fact, the word that we translate as “thanksgiving” in Greek is “Eucharistia.”: Eucharist. The same word we use for Holy Communion or the Lord’s Supper.

You may have noticed on Sundays as you follow along in your red hymnals as we begin the Eucharist liturgy, the back-and-forth part after the offering prayer is called the Great Thanksgiving. Ever week, you hear, “It is indeed right, our duty and our joy that we should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise to you, almighty and merciful God, through our savior Jesus Christ.”

Sound a little familiar? We give thanks for the gift that Jesus has given us: his body. His blood. His death. And his resurrection. It’s not just something the pastor drones on about because we were taught it in seminary. We say it because it’s true. It is our RIGHT… our DUTY… AND our joy… to give thanks and praise to God, sometimes by asking the very important question: “What then shall I do?”

I’m not as cool as John the Baptist, because I don’t have a personal, tweetable answer for each of you. I can only tell you what I plan to do…. (or at least TRY!)

This Advent season, as a very busy pastor, I am going to make sure I reach out to the people I care about and make time to give them my presence over worrying about presents….

I’m going to remember to be kind to the strangers around me, because I don’t know what struggles they are having this season….

I’m going to try to do small things to work for justice, like shopping fair trade when I can, and supporting non-profits like ELCA Good Gifts or Lutheran Advocacy Ministry in PA, that align with the justice issues I feel passionate about….

I’m going to find joy in the small things, to focus on the important things, and remain open to the experiences and stories of others.

Jesus isn’t asking us for heroics. Just for us to be who we are – not children of snakes, and John said, but children of God. You’re a child of God, not a child of snakes – so what then will YOU do?

FOG Road Work Ahead

Sermon 12-9-18

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

In the second year of the presidency of Donald Trump, when Tom Wolf was the governor of Pennsylvania, and Jim Kenny the mayor of Philadelphia, in the time of the iPhone IOS 12, …..During the Presiding Bishop-ship of Elizabeth Eaton, and the first year of Southeast -Penn Bishop Pat Davenport….the word of God came to Lydia Posselt, Daughter of Jeff the farmer, at her laptop, over a cup of coffee. Or at least, that his how this sermon came to be.

You may have noticed that the writer of Luke uses names and places in history that we can trace back and pinpoint, the famous and the powerful that history remembers, but we have forgotten. Honestly, I have no idea where Trachonitis is – which actually sounds like a medical term! – and I know nothing about Lysanias… do any of you? I didn’t think so!

But if John the Baptist had shown up today, here in Buckingham, Luke might have used these very same names that I did – names of people in power, names that might be familiar to us. You’ll notice though that the word of God did not come to any of these famous or powerful people that Luke listed. Instead, the word of the God came to John, the pastor’s kid, while he was hanging out in the wilderness AWAY from the centers of power.

So, where did this guy John come from, and why are we hearing about him instead of other things that we associate with Christmas… Mary, Joseph, angels, and shepherds? I don’t think too many of our nativity scenes include John the Baptist…. But maybe they should! And here’s why:

Earlier in Luke, before Mary was informed that she would be pregnant with Jesus, Mary’s relative Elizabeth also became pregnant with John. Elizabeth and her husband Zachariah, who was a temple priest, had been waiting and hoping for many years to have a child. 

When Zachariah, heard that Elizabeth was pregnant, he didn’t believe it…. and so the angel messenger temporarily took away Zachariah’s voice for doubting! The moment John was born, though, Zachariah burst into song – the very song that we read together as our Psalm for today. John is the child that arrives before the savior who will guide our feet into the way of peace. John is that prophet, who enters the scene to get us ready and prepare the way for Jesus’ arrival. Long before John, this arrival was foretold, and John is the last in a long line of prophets who have been getting God’s people ready over the centuries. Because apparently, we need a lot of time to prepare, and it’s been taking us a long time to get ready for Jesus …and that work is still going, because we’re never actually finished. In other words, the road is never completely done…

Sort of like road construction.

In Wisconsin, we have a joke about our state: there are 4 seasons, and they are winter, winter, still winter, and road construction. I think around here the joke is reversed: the 4 seasons in Pennsylvania is road construction, road construction, still road construction, and then winter.

When we see those yellow and orange cones, we all groan because we know what’s coming next: slower traffic, changing lanes, new traffic patterns, trucks and work vehicles, people standing around in yellow vests, unexpected detours, longer travel times. Until the new road is complete, we should drive carefully and patiently, and not get in the way of the people remaking the existing road into a better one.

Whenever I drive back and forth to New Jersey, I marvel that they are STILL working on that 95 bridge. Every time I drive that route, I see that they are a little bit farther, and I know that when it’s done, traffic will be – mostly – smooth sailing. I’m sure I’m not the only one who looks forward to the day when going across the river will be so much easier and faster.

What John is proposing in his preparation for the arrival of the Lord sounds very much like road construction. Smoothing out the rough roads, filling in the potholes, grading down the steep hills, straightening out the winding roads to make them more direct.  Think about driving to Allentown on the Northeast Extension verses on 313 and 309. Big difference, right? One way has hills, turns, rough patches, and takes a while, the other gets you there so easily it’s actually kind of boring.

But most of the time, our lives feel much more like 313 than 476. The road that life takes us on tends to lead us down a lot of winding detours. We face plenty of valleys and face lots of steep mountains to climb along our path. Our world feels more like a strange and scary wilderness every day – a dark, barren place where nothing is recognizable, and we feel lost. But the wilderness is also the very place that God arrives just when we are the most in need.

As the prophet Isaiah wrote, long before John the Baptism was born, as translated by Pastor Eugene Peterson in The Message: 

"Prepare God’s arrival! Make the road smooth and straight!
Every ditch will be filled in, every bump smoothed out,
The detours straightened out, All the ruts paved over.
Everyone will be there to see the parade of God’s salvation.”

God is making away through the deserts of our world and in our lives by leveling the powerful and lifting up those who have been brought low. God is making a way through the world by reorienting God’s people to follow a different kind of road than the one traveled by powerful people. God is making a way for our savior to arrive and God’s kingdom to reign here on earth to ALL people.

BUT, this road to make way for Jesus is going to take some work, too. Some rough spots have to be paved over. Some detours and new routes need to be planned. Some different road signs are going up, and some of those familiar orange cones are coming out. It might even make us drive slower and more carefully than we were expecting.

Maybe God is leading us OUT of the highways and bi-ways that are tempting us toward “Bigger and Better” Boulevard. God might be leading us TOWARD Wilderness Way… a place that for now feels lonely and uncharted but is also the place where God hangs out and causes great things to happen. God just might be leading us OUT of a rut, where we have been spinning our tires for far too long. God may be leading us away from the winding detour that we might be lost on, where our GPS of Success has misguided is to, and instead toward the correct lane that we need to be in.

If the writer of Luke were also writing our story, it might go something like this: In the year the roof was replaced, in first year of the Bishop-ship of Pat Davenport, in the second year of the pastorate of Lydia Posselt, the word of the Lord came to Family of God. But has the road been paved and ready for us to hear this word? We may have a roof over our heads now, which is both necessary and something for us to be proud of…. But what happens when we are not inviting others, who are waiting out there in their own wildernesses, to be underneath this fantastic roof with us? What good is raising $$$ for a roof and at the same time we have been short in paying our staff? What good is a dry space outside of the elements if we do not have buy-in and investment in this community by the people who come here?

We have some construction ahead of us, I think, before we can travel the way that God is calling us. It’s not going to be easy, or fun. It will probably be slow going, with new traffic patterns and unexpected detours, and lots and lots of those orange warning cones. We have the invitation from God to walk this road – the way of the Lord – together, to be part of this work of God’s kingdom, in seeing the salvation of God in our midst. THAT is what makes it worth it – so that others many see and know and love and share.

Family of God: there is some necessary Road Work Ahead. Are you ready to get on your orange vests, fire up the backhoe and the drum roller truck, and get to do the hard work here at Family of God, so that others may know that there is “a Place For all people Here”?

I hope so, because I believe that God is calling us to some pretty awesome places along this road. Thanks be to God. Amen.

It's Advent, And I Feel Fine

Sermon 12-2-18

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it…and I feel fine!” Actually, no, I don’t feel fine! I fee stressed! There are too many cars on the road, to many people shopping in Acme, and every organization I’m a part of seems to think it’s a great idea to have a meeting or gathering the first two weeks of December! I would much rather stay home and watch “The Great Christmas Light Fight” on TV.

But, Jesus here seems to want to talk about the end of the world, so that’s what we got. No mangers or angels or Mary or shepherds on this first Sunday in advent… instead, “it’s the end of the world as we know it…” and nobody is feeling fine.

Have you ever seen the bumper sticker that reads “Jesus is coming – look busy.” ? I usually seem them on cars going way under the speed limit. I know that it is a funny play on the “Jesus is coming – you better repent” idea… but I’m not sure how exactly I’m supposed to be “looking busy” … at least while I’m driving. I wonder if this means we should have some “holy busy work” at the ready. Maybe I should have some last-minute charities at the ready to donate to, or I should have my Bible out on the coffee table and occasionally move the bookmark forward.

Were you ready for Jesus the last time Jesus was supposed to come? Six years ago was December 2012 - the month the world was actually supposed to end, according to some – remember that? Well, I have a feeling that they were a little off.

While the end of the world failed to most of us, the end of the world did happen in December 2012, for the parents of children who attended Sandy Hook Elementary. Remember that tragic event? This was SIX years ago already. SIX.

And here we are, six years later, with Jesus yet again seeming to be quoting right out of the news. There is plenty for the nations of the world to be in distress about right now, plenty of confusion, chaos, and fear: mass shooting after mass shooting, refugees seeking asylum being teargassed, the effects of climate change harming farmers in the Midwest, ….  just to name a few of the events highlighted in the news recently.  So much pain, so much fear, so much suffering has happened just the last few weeks.

So much so, it might cause us to question whether or not these are the very signs Jesus was talking about. Should we be getting ready for the end? Is the son of Man about to come down from the clouds in judgement? Should we “look busy”? Or should we duck and cover? Stockpile our basements with Mac and Cheese and toilet paper?

Well, Jesus has an opinion about what we should do when he comes back. Not look busy. Not squirrel away supplies like a doomsday-prepper. But also, not to be weighted down by fear. Jesus tells us to stand up and raise our heads, be alert, full of prayer and hope. Because another kind of future is on our way to us – not our future, but God’s future, where we will live not as part of the kingdoms of this earth, but as part of God’s kingdom. Another kind of future has always been and is already breaking in. The kingdom of God is near. NOW.

During another time of great upheaval in human history, the prophet Jeremiah shared similar words of encouragement to a broken people. The people of Israel were conquered by a foreign nation – one of many during the centuries - and they were forced to become refugees in a strange land, where they TOO were not welcome.  Defeated, defenseless, and dejected, they might have given up on God and given in to their fear. Would God be faithful to the promises God made to their ancestors? How long would they have to wait for this coming day that Jeremiah describes?

Some things never change, I guess. We fast forward to the first followers of Jesus hearing these words written by Luke. When Luke was writing, Jerusalem had yet again been destroyed, this time by the Roman Empire. Their beloved place of worship was gone, their city devastated, countless people had been killed, and their world had become unrecognizable. As if the sun had stopped shining and the stars had fallen out of the sky.

Which left the early followers of Jesus wondering, can God still show up, even after all this? Is God’s kingdom still near, will God be able to break in to all the darkness that surrounds them?

If THIS kind of stuff is what we’re going to be getting during Advent, it’s no wonder we could rather not hear about it, and instead skip over Advent completely, and get right to Christmas carols and peppermint lattes. Especially when the things we hear in church on this first Sunday in Advent has nothing to do with Bethlehem, angels, shepherds, or baby Jesus anyway.

But I will let you in on a little secret. In Advent, time refuses to behave properly. I dare say, it becomes downright wibbly-wobbly.  

During the season of Advent, Jesus comes to us as a baby and as a grown man. He is on a cross and he is raised. He came, he is here, and he will come again…. but we don’t know just when and how until he shows up. Maybe tomorrow, two years, or two thousand years from now. And at the same time, Jesus already shows up all the time. His kingdom will come, and at the same time his kingdom IS ALREADY HERE among us. From the past we find hope for the future, and the future becomes the “now.”

From Bethlehem to Buckingham, God has given God’s people a head’s up, to lift our heads and look up, that from the dead stump of tragedy, a branch is going to spring up, to show us that despite all the chaos and the fear and the pain, God is still going to SHOW UP. Even when all hell breaks loose. While the rest of the world is telling us to duck and cover, or look busy and hustle for our self-worth, Jesus says to stand up and see where he is showing up. Because otherwise we might miss where Jesus and the kingdom are breaking into our world RIGHT NOW.  Look up, your redemption is drawing near.

In these dark days of violence and fear, this is where I have seen the kingdom coming near to us: In the blue hands on the altar, committing to our family here… in hearing about a friend wearing a dress every day for a month during December to raise money for victims of human trafficking in the United States…. In seeing a place like the historic park in Williamsburg deal with our country’s long history of racism head-on…. In yesterday’s naming of a newest Naval Battleship in Boston, the USS Thomas Hudner, named after the man who tried to save Ensign Jessie Brown, the first ever African American pilot.

And in most unlikely places, even in the full-on advent of the Christmas shopping season, there is plenty of opportunities to witness the kingdom come. We can remember the humanity in a cashier who had to work all weekend. We can make choices in our purchases that gives workers a far wage. Your family might even choose to forgo the gift-go-round all together and instead opt for giving to your favorite charity. I might even choose to be courteous of that slow car ahead of me, even if they have that bumper sticker that says, “Jesus is coming, look busy!”

Every Sunday when we pray for in the Lord’s Prayer “Thy Kingdom Come,” we are looking toward a time where God’s justice and mercy will reign supreme. We look forward to a time when there is no more racism, sexism, classism, of any kind, where fear and war and violence and greed and death no longer rule us. And every time we pray for God’s kingdom to come, we are allowing ourselves to be open to being part of that arrival. And not just by “looking busy,” but being aware, alert, and ready to LOOK for what and who is bringing in God’s kingdom.

Until God’s kingdom comes in its fullness, and Jesus does come back, surfing on a cloud, we wait, and we hope, and we shine as God’s lights in a very dark world. That is the heart and soul of the season of Advent. We don’t know what the world will bring to us around the next corner or in the next news cycle. But we can keep our heads up knowing God is going to show up, both in the manger and in the mundane. Thanks be to God, AMEN.

Snow and Rumors of Snow...

Sermon 11-18-18

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, amen.

Jesus probably should have added "You will hear of snow and rumors of snow…."  So this time, the rumors of this upcoming snowstorm undersold it’s power, didn’t it? Just a little bit. So much so that about forty pastors, including myself, decided to stay one more night at the hotel we were having our annual Bishop’s convocation. It was only SUPPOSED to be one night… but many of us decided one more night with our new Bishop was better than driving 5 or more hours in a driving snowstorm!

This won’t be the last time we will be having snow this winter, but it is the last time that we will be hearing from the Gospel of Mark for three whole years. Even though technically NEXT Sunday is the last Sunday of the church year – Christ the King Sunday – that Sunday we will be hearing from John, not Mark. So, for better or for worse, it’s bye-bye Gospel of Mark. It was nice knowing you…. Catch you in three years.

Mark certainly doesn’t leave us on a happy note, does he? This reading comes straight on the heels of last week, where we heard about the “Widow’s mite.” Last week Jesus watched as the wealthy giving the massive amounts of money in the temple treasury, which supported people like the scribes who took advantage of vulnerable and powerless people. A widow, one of the most powerless, came by and gave two small coins – all she had because everything else had been taken from her.

Even after knowing that the religious institution was built on the devouring of widow’s houses, the disciples could not stop “Rubber necking” the grand temple building itself. “My, what large stones and what large buildings we have!” one of the disciples cries out in wonder. You can almost hear Jesus’ facepalm two thousand years later.

Or, maybe the disciples were amazed for another reason – not simply from their grandness, but from the fact that their huge size must mean that many, many vulnerable people like that widow have been fleeced in the name of political and religious power. Their exclamation might then be also equal parts wonder and dismay. These stones represent power that they have no hope opposing. How can they, a little band of 12 plus Jesus, have any hope against such large and imposing stones? It would be like sheep trying to beat a wolf at his own game.

“My, what big stones they have, and what large buildings!” the disciples said. “My, what big eyes you have!” said little Red Riding hood in that old fairy tale we were told as kids. You know the story – Red Riding Hood goes through the woods and arrives at her grandmother’s house… only to find that that a big wolf has eaten her grandmother, dressed up in her clothes, and wanted to have Red Riding Hood for a second course. I like to think that Red Riding Hood knew right away that something was very wrong and was stalling for time.

“What big Eyes you have…” “The better to see you with, my dear….”

“What big ears you have….” The better to hear you with, my dear…”

“What big teeth you have….” “The better to eat you with, my dear!”

Personally, I like the versions of the story where Red Riding Hood defeats the wolf herself, rather than get eaten and rescued.

The moral of “Little Red Riding Hood” is something like: don’t talk to strangers, or at least don’t give them your grandma’s address. The moral of “Little Faith Jesus Followers” might be something like: don’t ask Jesus about when the end of the world is happening. Because you won’t get the answer you want.

It’s understandable that the disciples wanted to know when these things were going to talk place. Jesus was talking about some scary stuff, and they wanted to be prepared for what was to come. But there isn’t really anything to be done to prepare for a scary and unpredictable world, full of wars and rumors of wars, where nations clash and natural disasters loom around every corner.

When the Gospel of Mark was written, the magnificent stones of the temple that the disciples admired were already a pile of rubble. For the followers of Jesus that Mark was writing to, the end of the world felt like it was already happening.

As we listen to Marks words on THIS day, its easy to feel like the end of the world is happening now, and the aspects of life we thought were rock-sold are now in piles of rubble at our feet. Sometimes it seems almost unbearable to listen to the news lately. The snowstorm gave us a small taste of what happens when we no longer have control of transportation, and feeling helplessly stuck in our homes, cars, or places of work without a way to get out.

And for many of us, the rug has been pulled out from under us in other ways – our businesses flop, our health fails, our marriages fold, our relationships with our family fall apart. The future we were hoping for suddenly doesn’t look so bright anymore. … at least, it does not look like the future we imagined.

But what if that could be a good thing? What if – since we are not in control – someone else IS? if something new is being born, but first the old has to be cleared out, and a way be made for its arrival? What if we’re feeling unmoored and unanchored, because we have previously moored and anchored ourselves on the very things that Jesus has come to dismantle?

Jesus says here, as he says all over the Gospels, “do not be alarmed…” meaning “do not be afraid.” Scary things are going to happen, but Jesus is the cornerstone of our lives, the rock of our salvation that will not be moved, the fortress that will save and protect us in all the storms that rage around us.

In just a few short weeks, we will be in Advent, the season that celebrates the arrival of Jesus at Christmas. An angel visited a young woman named Mary and told her not to fear when she heard she was pregnant with Jesus, before she got married to Joseph. Later, Mary sang a song to her cousin Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist after waiting so long for a child. Instead of being worried at the rumors spreading about her, Mary sings. And We get to sing my favorite version of Mary’s song - also known as the Magnificat – in a moment. This version has Mary – and therefore us – sing these words:

“From the halls of power to the fortress tower, not a stone will be left on stone….” And also “The nations rage from age to age, we remember who holds us fast.”

We remember Jesus holds us fast, and will never let us go. Jesus will hold us fast, amid all the things that we can’t control, amid all the things that make us afraid. Do not be alarmed, because even though these things are happening, it does not mean the end of us.

As writer and pastor Rachel Hackenberg explains, “The teeth that threaten us will crumble to dust. The stones that ground and shelter our ways of life will topple and erode. The dreams that haunt us as well as those that inspire us will fade with the dawn. The agonies of this life — from the strained relationships to the violence of evil — as eternal as they may feel in this moment, they too will fade before the stars burn out. Let earth rejoice and be glad.”

We will rejoice and be glad… because Jesus is the new and living way into a future. Stones are dead, but Jesus lives, and gives us new life out of death. The world is about to turn, and we give thanks that our God creates a new and living way for us through Jesus.

In a few minutes, we will be expressing that thanks in a few ways. One will be by turning in our cards for our 2019 pledges during the offering time. Another will be turning in the blue hands, after we have written how we will use our hands to minister to others in 2019.... They will decorate the altar for a few weeks in Advent as a reminder, to encourage one another in love and good deeds. Join us in this work of building up the Body of Christ together, as we give thanks to God. Amen.

Dance party at the Bishop's Convocation!

"Boots and Buttonhole" Church

Sermon 11-11-18

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

When you were little, did you ever daydream that you would become a famous movie star? Maybe you imagined that you would end up on Star Search or get discovered on American Idol or America’s Got Talent. My cousin once went to an audition for American Idol when one of those nation-wide auditions happened in a city near us. She told us it was NOTHING like what you see on TV. On the show, you see the famous three judges in a room by themselves with the lucky or unlucky singer. That was for just a small fraction of people. The rest of them, my cousin included, were corralled into a school gym, where dozens of people were auditioning all at the same time, in front of the B or even C team of judges, and she could barely hear herself sing. What a different experience to the one she thought she might have had. And, spoiler alert, even though my cousin sings very well, she did NOT make it on the show.

Pretty soon we grow up and grow wiser, through perhaps some similar life experience, and realize that we can’t ALL be famous. Maybe we might have a “15 minutes of fame” moment or are lucky to “know someone who knows someone famous.” But most of us will be famous only in the way that Naomi Shahib Nye describes in her NOT very well-known poem. “The river is famous to the fish,” She writes.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds   

watching him from the birdhouse.   

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The boot is famous to the earth,   

more famous than the dress shoe,   

which is famous only to floors.

By this time in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus was getting to be pretty famous – but more like a boot than a dress shoe. At the beginning of Chapter 12, Jesus has made a pit stop at the temple to do a little teaching on his way to his crucifixion. This chapter in Mark has two big themes – about money and about belonging. At the end of this chapter, Jesus parks himself in front of the offering box in the temple and watches as people put in their offerings in.

Some rich people walked by and made a show of writing big checks – maybe even while wearing some version of fancy dress shoes. I imagine they did so with those huge prop checks – you know, the ones that you see all the time on Publisher’s Clearing House? That kind of giving reveals that they want to be famous for their “generosity.”

And then a poor widow came by, and in goes the entire amount of her social security check, without fanfare or notice. Jesus noticed, and pointed out to his disciples that, out of her lack, she had given more than the richest member of the congregation. They had all given what they could afford… out of their excess. She had given though she couldn’t afford it.

In those days, a widow was at the mercy of others to survive. She was a burden on her family. She had no disposable income; she was utterly dependent. In fact, when a woman’s husband died, her husband’s wealth was put in a trust, to which the widow had no direct access. Her husband’s estate was run by the Scribes, who were legal experts working with the people who were in power, both politically and religiously. Jesus describes them as wearing long robes and seeking all the attention for themselves by grabbing the best places and showing false piety. This is what Jesus means by “devouring widows houses” – they had “oversight” over the estates of these widows and were known to skim off the top. They then “generously” gave these widows a small allowance in order to survive.

This particular widow on has only 2 small coins to her name – the smallest denomination in circulation at the time, called Lepta –because the scribes have not left her anything else. And even then, she gave literally her last cent to the very institution that was keeping her in poverty, the same institution that supported the scribes and kept them in power. She gave everything she had to the temple treasury - to a building that in less than a few decades would be a pile of rubble on the ground, thanks to the Roman Empire that is currently in power, and with whom the scribes are collaborating. 

She gave what she had, and her offering impressed Jesus more than all the vast sums the rich had contributed. Though she was invisible to society at large, and had no legal power or religious clout, she gave away what little she did have. She trusted she would be ok, and she knew that the God would not forsake her, even though the people who were supposed to protect her and cared for her had forsaken her. 

Jesus is not praising this widow for her “giving till it hurts” attitude… though this text has been used for centuries in that way. As a pastor friend of mine puts it, “Jesus is mad that this woman is giving her very life into something that won’t last. He’s not mad at her, he’s mad at the system that forces her to do this.” This is not unlike the situation that Martin Luther found himself in, in Germany over 500 years ago. The institutional church in his time had convinced poor, vulnerable people to part with what little money they had to free their beloved relatives from purgatory… all the while actually funding a huge building project. The tagline from that program was something like: “when a coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs.”

In Jesus’ time, the influential, the wealthy, and the people in power had convinced this widow that she was not enough, and she had to give all of herself, her whole life, in order to be worthy. Jesus saw her, however, and saw her true value as a beloved child of God. Jesus is always seeing people that we tend to overlook, people that we undervalue. They may not be famous to us, but they are famous to Jesus… just as a tear is famous to a cheek, and a river is famous to the fish who live in it.

The rest of the not-so-famous poem by Naomi Shihab Nye goes like this:

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,   

or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,   

but because it never forgot what it could do.

Have we forgotten what our church can do? Sure, there were times that Family of God had more people, more money, and more ministries. Sure, there are plenty of churches around us who currently seem pretty flush with those things and seem pretty “successful”. Sure, there are plenty of congregation who are expanding their buildings or getting a lot of attention. And not to say that these things by themselves are bad. But Jesus is telling us to be on the look out for the times when WE think that we need to spend all our time and resources going after THESE things in order to “properly” do God’s work. Because when we do that, we give away the “might,” we do have, and have nothing left to give.

We don’t have to have a huge programs in order to be doing the work of God’ Kingdom. We don’t have to have three services on a Sunday morning, with a ten-piece band. We don’t have to be the best or the biggest, and we don’t even have to be BETTER or BIGGER.

To do God’s work, we only have to be ourselves, and to stop listening to those who are telling us that we are not enough. Because if we don’t, OUR “widow’s mite,” as this story is known for, might just get used up by “Big Successful Church Syndrome.” Are we giving our “mite” to the work of the kingdom, to work that will last… work that will transform lives and nurture faith? Or are we going to give away our mite and allow it to be used up in the endless pursuit of being the kind of church we are not?

Our “widow’s mite” may be small, but it is precious. And our “mite” can do a lot, as long as we stop trying to be what we are not. We don’t have to be a famous church.

Jesus needs a pully and buttonhole church. Jesus needs a “boot on the ground” church rather than a “dress shoe on the floor” church. Jesus needs Family of God to not forget that we might not be famous, but we are enough. We can be “Boots and buttonhole” kind of famous. Amen.

All Saints: We Have Already Died

Sermon 11-4-18 – All Saints

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I want this gospel text to be read at my funeral. I also want Isaiah 43 read, along with some of my favorite hymns, and the service should include Communion. I keep my beneficiaries for both my Thrivent life insurance policy and my health insurance up to date… by the way, Family of God is listed as one of my recipients of my small life insurance policy. Is Family of God part of your legacy planning? I don’t mean to sound morbid, but in my line of work as a pastor, I have encountered death and dying A LOT more than the average person, and so I have spent some time thinking about it. Have YOU? …Have you thought about your wishes, your legacy, how you want to spend your remaining time, your quality of life, how you would like your family and friends to mourn and give thanks for your life, and how you would like to be laid to rest?

It’s ok to think about and talk about this stuff, but it’s also hard, because we don’t normally do it. But today, on All Saints Sunday, gives us the perfect opportunity to do so. Someday, every single person in this room will become one of the saints – remembered one year during an All Saints Sunday some day in the future, as we are doing today. Since we are born, we will also someday die. It’s the truth that haunts all of us, if you’ll forgive that way to describe it. A truth that both drives our most creative accomplishments, and also the biggest secret we live to deny. 

This is a very strange time in history, according to a book I recently read on death history (and much of the following information is from this book). We no longer see death as part of our daily reality. A veil has been drawn over how we spend our last days and moments, and what happens to us after our death, by the medical and the funeral industry. Most of our loved ones – or even us, when our times comes, spend their last moments in a hospital room, surrounded by medical equipment, and our bodies are whisked away and not seen again until the family visitation, wake, memorial service, or funeral. In the last century, we have been separated from the ritual and sacred task than has been a tradition for centuries: mourning for our dead by caring for them ourselves, in our homes, with family.

Until recently, “death care” has been the unsung work of women… and in most cultures and countries, it still is. In first century Palestine as well, when you died, your female female relatives washed your body, dressed you, wrapped you in burial cloths, and anointed you with aromatic spices. You would be then laid temporarily in a tomb, for the course of about a year, until the natural process of decomposition was complete. Then your family collected your bones to be laid to rest in a special “bone box,” called an ossuary.

Historically speaking, women were “death’s natural companion,” providing the (sometimes literal) labor at the beginning and at the ending of our lives – laboring to bring us forth from the womb, and laboring to lay us to rest in our tombs and beyond. Women throughout history have seen death and dying up close and have been the most helpless when left behind.

If you are Mary and Martha - two unmarried women living in their brother Lazarus’ household as his dependents – you would of course send word Jesus at the first sign of your brother’s serious illness. Without Lazarus, they would be a the mercy of other male relatives, or homeless. Surely JESUS would make his dear friend Lazarus well, since he had already healed many, many strangers!

But Jesus delayed, and by the time he arrived, Lazarus had already been four days buried. It had been four days since Martha and Mary had sat by his bedside, changing his sheets and mopping his forehead as he took his last breath. It had been four days since Martha and Mary had prepared his body for burial, washing and wrapping his entire body long strips of burial cloth, and covering him with special ointments of myrrh and aloe. It has been four days since they watched other members of their family and friend carry him to and lay him in a tomb, until they would tenderly collect his bones and finally place of rest.

Both Mary and Martha confront Jesus with the bold accusation – “If YOU had BEEN HERE… our brother would not have died.” These women had BEEN THERE for Lazarus, and it seemed that Jesus had NOT. They had been present with him, and stayed by their brother’s side, until the end. Where had Jesus been?

It is a question that we too might ask. In the midst of our own grieving for those who died since last All Saints Sunday… or in other ways that we are suffering, we wonder too – “Where were you Jesus? If you had been here, our brother would not have died…. the cancer would not returned …. the marriage would not have ended… or the accident would not have happened… or any number of things.” But they did happen. Divorce, cancer, accidents, evil, suffering, violence, and death still happen in this world. So where is Jesus in all of this?

In the face of death, when Jesus seems to FINALLY show up on the scene for his friend Lazarus, he engages the angry questions of the sisters head-on. Their accusations and questions did not faze him… though their grief did. The unfettered grief deeply affected him, and Jesus wept.  

But amid the tears, Jesus was not deterred from his mission of defeating death at its own game. He asked where Lazarus has been laid to rest and goes directly to were death lives. The heavy sealed stone of the tomb does not make Jesus turn away, and neither did the smell of decay and decomposition of the body of Lazarus had undergone. 

Even if Jesus HAD shown up on the scene earlier, he MIGHT have healed Lazarus… but Lazarus would have died eventually. The same with Martha and Mary. The same with all of those present with Jesus and the sisters to mourn Lazarus. The same with us… perhaps what Mary and Martha SHOULD have said was “Jesus, if you had been here, Lazarus would not have died RIGHT NOW.” But he would have died eventually. And actually, Lazarus had to die AGAIN… at some point. Someday Lazarus’s body would be washed, wrapped, anointed, and laid to rest a second time. The atoms that made up his body would finish their process of breaking down and returning to the universe God has created.

The rest of us though, we only have to die once. And truth be told, we have already done it. That’s right, I’m already dead, and those of us present here have already died. The moment we were baptized, and the pastor sprinkled your head with water, you died with Christ and were buried in his tomb with him.  In your baptisms, the old, sinful person in you died, and a new person, a saint of God, was resurrected. You have died to your old self, you have died to the ways of the world that seek to hold you back from following God, and you have died to even death itself.

The emergence of Lazarus from the tomb would foreshadow Jesus’ victory over death in his resurrection. Jesus can call us out of our tombs because Jesus knows what it’s like to be INSIDE OF one.

Those who sealed Jesus’ tomb after his crucifixion may have remembered Lazarus, and perhaps thought to themselves, “Maybe the one raised that Lazarus guy could have kept HIMSELF from dying. But I guess not.” Point, set, match. Death wins.

Three days later, another Mary came to his tomb to mourn. But she found there a surprise waiting for her: a tomb without a stone and a grave without a body. Death, so used to swallowing up people, had instead found itself swallowed up by Jesus, just as Isaiah said– he will destroy the shroud over all the peoples, and the sheet over all the nations, and he will even swallow up death forever. The “way things were” has been turned upside down. Because of this, we can ask at every funeral, along with Saint Paul, “Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting?”

And because we have already died in Christ, and have been raised with him, let us commend the members of the Family of God to the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer, in the word that are spoken at every funeral service:

Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servants. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, sheep of your own fold, lambs of your own flock, sinners of your own redeeming. Receive us into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen.