Grace and peace to you from God our father and from our Lord and savior Jesus the Christ. Amen.
Happy 2014! How is it going so far? Did you stay up to watch the ball drop? Or did you turn in early, confident that the New Year would arrive when you woke up?
Are you where you thought you would be one year ago? Five years ago? Ten years ago? Is your life in the shape that you expected it to be, or has the dawn of 2014 found you on a road that you did not expect to be traveling? Did you wake up one day and – bang! - find that the ball had dropped and a new day had dawned, and everything you thought you had planned went straight out the window?
Tomorrow is the twelfth day of Christmas, or the celebration of what Christians around the world call the day of Epiphany. The day of Epiphany is when the light of the star rested on the place where Jesus was, where the wise men were able to find him, which we are celebrating today. While the rest of the world has already finished up its after-Christmas sales and New Year’s parties, are cleaning up and putting away the Christmas lights and decorations, today we are observing the final element to the Christmas story. Today we too pay homage to a God who so often comes into our world as a blazing light, surprising us in our darkness, and changing our lives forever.
I think God must have been like this from the very beginning, when God created light to shine out in the dark universe. Just one little sentence, “Let there be light,” changed the entire universe, revealing the mystery of creation for all time. Darkness would no longer reign. The world would never be the same again.
I sort of makes me think of the Big Bang theory. Actually, I don’t mean the scientific theory that states that the creation of the universe came from the explosion of everything pressed into one infinitely small space. I’m thinking of my husband’s favorite show, The Big Bang theory, about a group of super-intelligent but super-socially awkward guys whose lives are completely changed when a beautiful and blond actress-wannabe moves into the apartment next door. One minute, experimental physicist Leonard and theoretical scientist Sheldon are strolling up the stairs to the apartment they share and – bang! – they meet their new neighbor Penny. And from this one chance encounter, instead of a universe, a wildly successful seven season television sitcom is born.
Fortunately for CBS, sometimes unfortunately for us, big bangs seem to be how God works. One minute we are going along in life, traveling the path that we think we have mapped out for us, when we have our own personal Big Bang moments. It can happen to anyone, at any time.
Take King Herod, for example. He seemed to have everything going for him – the support of Rome, wealth from cruelly taxing his own people, political security from murdering members of his own family, a legacy in architectural grandeur, religious influence by following Judaism only when he felt like it. This man Rome named “King of the Jews” had it pretty good.
And then one day, which dawned just like any other day, he receives some unexpected and unwanted visitors.
There were foreigners, wise men, wandering in Jerusalem, and they were asking for the King of the Jews. But they weren’t looking for Herod.
Take these wise men, as well. They had left positions of esteem and influence in their native countries to make a long and perilous journey, thousands of years before the ease of cars and airplanes. These well-educated and well-respected scholars, the experimental physicists and theoretical scientists of their age, left everything familiar to follow a star that would take them to worship a newborn king in a foreign land.
Jesus was a Big Bang moment for both King Herod and the wise men, but their reactions could not have been more different. Herod, and all Jerusalem, were terrified at the news of the birth of this new King. For them, darkness and preserving their own power were more desirable and convenient, so the news of the arrival of God’s light on earth struck fear into their hearts.
For the wise men, the announcement drew them far out of their comfort zones, but at the same time compelled them to follow a divine star to a land far away to worship this king of the Jews.
In T.S. Eliot’s famous poem called “The Journey of the Magi”, Eliot imagines one them recounting his harrowing trek many years later. This wise man wonders: “were we lead all that way for birth or death? There was a birth, certainly, we had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death, but had thought that they were different; this birth was hard and bitter agony for us, like death, our death.” We might easily imagine that for them, and for the whole world, life would never be the same.
A ball of light drops and the world calls it the New Year. We make resolutions and later break them. We make plans and have visions of the future that don’t always turn out as we expect them to. We, like the wise men of old, travel by a road different than the one we thought we would be traveling. Life changes after an encounter with the light of Christ.
Most of us I think can speak from experience about the big bangs and the little detours that God placed in our lives. I know I have a few from the last few years, both big bangs and small seeming detours. Just recently, before celebrating the New Year with some friends to watch the festivities in New York in the comfort of the indoors, my husband and I stopped for a vigil for peace at the Trenton Quaker house. He had read about the vigil in the information about Patriot Week in Trenton, hidden among the listings for battle reenactments and other festivities. As we walked into the dark, sparse meeting room at the Quaker house, each of us were given a small flameless LED candle to hold.
Quakers worship a little differently than most. At this peace vigil, there was no scripture read or hymns sung or sermon preached. Every once in a while, one of us would speak into the darkness – some spoke about seeking peace in the wider world, and some about seeking peach within ourselves. But most of time was spent in silence, in the small light of the flickering LED candles. In those times of silence, I prayed for the peace of the city right outside the door, which could be seen in the darkness outside the window of the Trenton Quaker house. A city that is shrouded in darkness, and can use all the light that it can get. A city that now my husband and I call home.
In 2011 as I finished up my seminary degree in St. Paul MN, I would never have guessed in a million years that the end of 2013 would find me in a three hundred year old Quaker meeting house in Trenton. Nor would I ever have imagined that in 2014 this Wisconsin girl would be looking forward to my second ordination anniversary while serving a fabulous church in central New Jersey. They may say that the devil is in the details, but I think I may safely saw that it is God that is in the detours.
But no matter where the dawning of 2014 finds you, whether on the main road you imagined, off the beaten path, seemingly lost on a detour, stuck in a rut or in the ditch, dawn will come and the light of risen Christ will shine upon you. For even the darkest night is dispelled with the rays of the rising sun.
At Christmas we celebrate the birth of Jesus, that light of hope in our lives. At Epiphany we rejoice that this light has exploded out to shine on all people, in all places and times. For in Jesus the light of God’s love has dawned upon us, to show us the way of peace. And in each of us that light burns brightly and will never be extinguished. And we will never be the same. Amen.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Christmas Eve Sermon
I've kind of always had a soft spot for the shepherds. I think I might be because I was one – not in real life, of course, but from first grade until fifth grade I was type-casted in my church’s Christmas play. Always a shepherd. Never an angel, who got to wear white robes and wings and cool halos and look pretty. Never a wise man or wise “person,” who brought nice gifts. Always a shepherd, wearing itchy brown robes and towels tied to your head, just sort of standing there awkwardly, like a group of misfits who showed up to the wrong party.
Finally, in fifth grade, I knew that my typecasting days were over. The fifth graders always got the lead parts, like Mary and Joseph and the speaking angel. I was going to be Mary, because MY hand would be the first one up when our teacher asked for volunteers. I was ready.
Unfortunately for me, the hand of my best friend was also ready. And unfortunately for me, it was her name that was taken down to play Mary and wear the pretty blue robe. The worst part was, a moment later she turned around and whispered to me: “hey, what did I just volunteer for?”
So it was itchy robes and towels for me again that year. But I got my chance a few years later, when I was asked to be Mary in the adult Christmas play, where Mary had actual lines and got to hold a real baby. Now, I wonder at this baby’s mother, letting a strange teenager hold her baby for an hour. And I wonder that the she, the baby (there was a girl baby Jesus that year) didn’t cry at all while being held by this strange person in a blue robe, though she did fuss for a minute right before Mary’s big monologue.
But really, Mary doesn’t have a monologue, though she must have been thinking about an awful lot that night. And we don’t hear what’s on Joseph’s mind either, what he must be thinking about all this. We do have an angel of the Lord with a birth announcement, and a great angel gathering praising God. But as far as we know, the only witnesses to this grand announcement … were the shepherds.
Not the itchy robe-wearing, towel-headed variety. These shepherds were the living-in-the fields with the sheep variety –dirty, smelly, tough, night-shift workers doing a thankless job for little pay. These shepherds were on the fringes of polite society, unclean, unwanted, untrustworthy.
They knew what life was like on the outside looking in. They knew what it was like to sit in the dark and cold night of exclusion and isolation. They were last on anyone’s list, no matter what time of the year it was.
But we don’t really have shepherds around anymore. And for that matter, we don’t have emperors or traveling census, and when was the last time you saw a manger? My dad, as a dairy farmer, might be the closest thing we have to what a shepherd is like, and the kind of manger that he and my brothers clean out every night are not the kind you would ever want to put a newborn – full of bits of hay and silage and cow drool.
And yet, here we are again, Christmas 2013, listening to the same story we heard last year, and they year before, and the year before that. A story that is about shepherds, and emperors, and censuses, and angels, and mangers. But it is also a story that is about God, and what God has done. A story that is actually about us.
The shepherds are not the only ones who know what it’s like to be on the outside, to know what it’s like to walk in darkness and live in a land of deep darkness. Life is full of darkness. And this year may have seemed darker than most. On the world stage, this year has been full of violence, pain, and destruction – war in Syria, death in bombings in Boston and Kenya, natural disaster in the Philippines. And closer to home, so many people I know have lost someone close to them in the last year, and for them this first Christmas without them will have an aftertaste of loss. The land of loss we travel is one not just of darkness, but of deep darkness, so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, so dark that you might imagine the dawn might never come.
In the night, just like any other night of the year, the shepherds sat in the darkness, tending their flock and protecting it from the danger of the night. The last thing they were expecting was to come face to face with the bright and shining glory of the Lord. The last thing they were expecting that night was to see their Lord face to face.
We who have walked in darkness have seen a great light. On those of us who live in a land of deep darkness, on us light has shined. But no one expect it the light to shine from the face of a helpless baby, born into poverty, whose parents’ were considered second-class citizens in their own country, in during a period of history that was fraught with violence and unrest.
But this is how our God chooses to work in our lives. Taking on power by becoming powerless. By showing exaltation in ultimate vulnerability. By exposing true peace and wholeness by entering into a broken and messy world. By first illuminating the arrival of the truest, mightiest, most powerful love in the universe to the very least of us. By revealing light in the midst of darkness in the gift of a tiny baby.
The best gift ever given was not expensive or fancy or impressive or grand. It was not covered in ribbons and wrapping paper. It could never be found in a store. The best gift every given arrived through the blood, sweat, and tears of a young women and her anxious husband, wrapped in rags and rough wood, visited by shepherds smelling of sheep. The best gift ever given was made possible by the deepest love we could never fully conceive or imagine.
This gift was named Jesus. And he was born so that we could know God. That the God in the highest heaven wants us to know – in person – who God is and how much God loves us. This God found a way to break into our world to reveal just how far this love goes.
This baby grows up, as all babies do. But Jesus grows up to face the powers of darkness head-on. The shepherds were just the beginning – during his ministry Jesus hung out with all sorts of unsavory characters: tax collectors, sinners, fishermen, lepers, women, children, and all kinds of people at the bottom rungs of the ladder. He showed them love and told them about what God’s kingdom is really like. Good news of great joy for all the people. During his life Jesus showed us that God is in the business of healing and peace and love and making broken people whole again.
Not everyone is pleased with this gift. There were those who wanted to return it. The darkness wanted it to stay dark, the deeper the darkness the better – a darkness as deep as death itself, and for three days, it seemed to be winning.
But our God is also in the business of life, and not even death can win against the love God has for his people, us. On that day another angel stood before the darkness of an empty tomb and announced, “Do not be afraid… he is not here, for he has been raised. Come, see the place where he lay.” And those who heard left with great joy and ran to tell the good news.
Perhaps instead of feeling honored to play Mary in the adult Christmas play, I should instead have felt privileged for all those years I spent as a “lowly” shepherd. They were the ones who dropped everything, and ran into town, and checked every baby before seeing for themselves where the baby Jesus lay. They celebrated the very first Christmas service, out in that dark field with the sheep. We could probably do worse than have a little shepherd rub off on us. They didn’t just SEE the God’s gift face to face, they shared that gift with everyone around them. And here we are, all these years later, celebrating the arrival of that gift this night.
But all gifts are meant to be shared, and this one is no exception. For it belongs to all of us, every single one of us. And the more we share this gift the brighter the light becomes, until that day when all the darkness will be extinguished forever, and we shall all see God face to face. Amen.
Monday, December 30, 2013
End of the Year Book List
My top 10 favorite books that I read in 2013, in no particular order:
1. The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbery. This is a novel for literature nerds, no doubt about it, and I loved every minute of this book. It's like Roald Dahl's Matilda, only in an apartment building in France.
2. Who is This Man?The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus, John Ortberg. This guy does good work, and this book was no exception. I haven't read Bill O'Reilly's book about Jesus, but I would say to read this book instead.
3. What We Talk About When We Talk About God, Rob Bell. Again, another book that did not disappoint. I have used this book in at least one sermon this year.
4. Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide, Nicholas Kristof. Not at easy read, but one of those eye opening books I'll never forget.
5. Pastrix, Nadia Bolz-Weber. Saw her speak just over the river in PA. My only complaint was that the book was not longer!
6. Buck: A Memoir., MK Asante. A young black man finds his way in out of drugs and violence through education. A must-read if you are a human being.
7. The Light Between Oceans, M.L. Stedman. How a no-win situation tears everyone's lives apart. Couldn't put it down.
8. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy. I actually started this one last year just after the movie came out. It takes awhile, but it's ok to skim some of the philosophical bits
9. State of Wonder: Ann Patchett. Sort of weird, in a really interesting way. A scientist living in MN finds herself in the Amazon searching for the female version of Dr. House.
10. A Year of Biblical Womanhood, Rachel Held Evans. A great blend of humor and sound Biblical scholarship.
And one that disappointed:
Flight Behavior, Barbara Kingsolver. The premise of this book was interesting, and she has some lovely characters with a couple of great scenes. But the rest of the book is pretty unfocused and feels like a paper that I once had to write for history class my Junior year - the assignment was to write a narrative that incorporated five world cities and important historical and geographical information important to each. Sometimes it felt like a bunch of important facts about climate change that just so happened to be coming out of a character's mouth. It had almost no plot and the ending was such a let down.
1. The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbery. This is a novel for literature nerds, no doubt about it, and I loved every minute of this book. It's like Roald Dahl's Matilda, only in an apartment building in France.
2. Who is This Man?The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus, John Ortberg. This guy does good work, and this book was no exception. I haven't read Bill O'Reilly's book about Jesus, but I would say to read this book instead.
3. What We Talk About When We Talk About God, Rob Bell. Again, another book that did not disappoint. I have used this book in at least one sermon this year.
4. Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide, Nicholas Kristof. Not at easy read, but one of those eye opening books I'll never forget.
5. Pastrix, Nadia Bolz-Weber. Saw her speak just over the river in PA. My only complaint was that the book was not longer!
6. Buck: A Memoir., MK Asante. A young black man finds his way in out of drugs and violence through education. A must-read if you are a human being.
7. The Light Between Oceans, M.L. Stedman. How a no-win situation tears everyone's lives apart. Couldn't put it down.
8. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy. I actually started this one last year just after the movie came out. It takes awhile, but it's ok to skim some of the philosophical bits
9. State of Wonder: Ann Patchett. Sort of weird, in a really interesting way. A scientist living in MN finds herself in the Amazon searching for the female version of Dr. House.
10. A Year of Biblical Womanhood, Rachel Held Evans. A great blend of humor and sound Biblical scholarship.
And one that disappointed:
Flight Behavior, Barbara Kingsolver. The premise of this book was interesting, and she has some lovely characters with a couple of great scenes. But the rest of the book is pretty unfocused and feels like a paper that I once had to write for history class my Junior year - the assignment was to write a narrative that incorporated five world cities and important historical and geographical information important to each. Sometimes it felt like a bunch of important facts about climate change that just so happened to be coming out of a character's mouth. It had almost no plot and the ending was such a let down.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
#Patience
Advent Meditation 12-4-13
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
How are you keeping track of Advent? Are you counting the time with one of those chocolate-filled countdown calendars? I remember having one of those one year. Each day I’d get to pop one of those babies open and eat the little chocolate piece in the shape of a sheep or a star. My brothers were not as patient.
This year, I’m not rationing chocolate for Advent. I’m participating in a sort of interactive Advent calendar, one of many that are floating around on the internet right now. It’s called Advent Photo-a-day, and you share a picture of something related to the word of the day. And wouldn’t you know it: today’s word is patience. Which is fitting, because tonight we heard the first of three ancient songs sung by people who have been waiting patiently to for God.
The first song in our Advent midweek series is sung by a priest named Zechariah. Both he and his wife Elizabeth were descended from priests, so you could say they were continuing the family business. And their deepest wish would have been for that family tradition to continue. But though they were righteous before God, and waited patiently, no child came, and they starting to get on in years.
But one day, as Zechariah was doing his normal duties in the temple, he was interrupted by an angel, who told him that he and his wife would have a son. And he would not grow up to be just any man, but he would be the one to prepare the way of the Lord. Upon hearing this awesome news, that the patience of he and his wife had been rewarded handsomely, did Zechariah jump for joy? Shout it at the top of his lungs? Phone a friend to tell them the good news?
No, he did none of those things. He didn’t believe the messenger, and so he was struck mute until the day Elizabeth would give birth. With was kind of a problem for him in his line of work.
Nine months later, Elizabeth gave birth to a little boy. And after decades of childlessness and nine months of silence, the first words out of Zechariah’s mouth were words of praise. Their patience had been rewarded. They had been given a son, who was to prepare the way for the coming dawn of the Lord.
This Advent, what are you waiting for? Are you sitting in the darkness of strained relationships, of loss and grief, of loneliness and depression? Do you feel overshadowed by overwhelming schedules and demands, by illness or sadness, by the violence and woes of a turbulent world?
Are you waiting with patience? Or are you perhaps a little more like Zechariah, who missed seeing the very fulfilment of his hopes because he had accepted the darkness as the way things always would be.
We shouldn’t really be so hard on Zechariah, though. He at least got to witness the answer of his prayers. But as he sings this song of praise, his son John is still just a baby. He still has to grow into the important role he was born into, as John the Baptist, the preparer of the way. So for them, even though their deepest longing has been fulfilled, more patience is still required.
It’s hard to be patient, when we are so used to getting what we want or need right away. But if we really believe, as Zechariah believed, that the dawn from on high will break upon us, that God who has promised to be faithful really will be faithful to us, then I think it might be worth it. Because the dawn has already broken on those of us who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. So in a sense we wait for what we already have – the presence of the Lord in our midst. Sometimes that presences is easy to miss, sometimes we don’t believe it because it’s too good to be true, and sometimes we miss it because darkness is more comfortable and familiar than light. And sometimes, God even uses us in order to shine the light for others.
In my photo for my Advent Picture-a-day, today I included this candle. You see it’s not an actual wax candle. It’s one of the “pretend” ones. I bought it last year for Holden evening prayer, when it was dropped and broken, and then I broke it more in trying to make it not look funny. I could have gotten another one, a new one that was whole, but I decided to keep it. I’ve used it in a few things – like this summer when nineteen youth from across the state met in Brick for the hottest week ever in order to help people still suffering the effects of Sandy. It shone for us as we shone line for others. I keep it because it reminds me that even though it’s not perfect, it’s kind of chipped and even, it still does what it’s supposed to. It still gives light to those who are in darkness.
And you child, shall be called the prophet of the most high, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways. Amen.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
How are you keeping track of Advent? Are you counting the time with one of those chocolate-filled countdown calendars? I remember having one of those one year. Each day I’d get to pop one of those babies open and eat the little chocolate piece in the shape of a sheep or a star. My brothers were not as patient.
This year, I’m not rationing chocolate for Advent. I’m participating in a sort of interactive Advent calendar, one of many that are floating around on the internet right now. It’s called Advent Photo-a-day, and you share a picture of something related to the word of the day. And wouldn’t you know it: today’s word is patience. Which is fitting, because tonight we heard the first of three ancient songs sung by people who have been waiting patiently to for God.
The first song in our Advent midweek series is sung by a priest named Zechariah. Both he and his wife Elizabeth were descended from priests, so you could say they were continuing the family business. And their deepest wish would have been for that family tradition to continue. But though they were righteous before God, and waited patiently, no child came, and they starting to get on in years.
But one day, as Zechariah was doing his normal duties in the temple, he was interrupted by an angel, who told him that he and his wife would have a son. And he would not grow up to be just any man, but he would be the one to prepare the way of the Lord. Upon hearing this awesome news, that the patience of he and his wife had been rewarded handsomely, did Zechariah jump for joy? Shout it at the top of his lungs? Phone a friend to tell them the good news?
No, he did none of those things. He didn’t believe the messenger, and so he was struck mute until the day Elizabeth would give birth. With was kind of a problem for him in his line of work.
Nine months later, Elizabeth gave birth to a little boy. And after decades of childlessness and nine months of silence, the first words out of Zechariah’s mouth were words of praise. Their patience had been rewarded. They had been given a son, who was to prepare the way for the coming dawn of the Lord.
This Advent, what are you waiting for? Are you sitting in the darkness of strained relationships, of loss and grief, of loneliness and depression? Do you feel overshadowed by overwhelming schedules and demands, by illness or sadness, by the violence and woes of a turbulent world?
Are you waiting with patience? Or are you perhaps a little more like Zechariah, who missed seeing the very fulfilment of his hopes because he had accepted the darkness as the way things always would be.
We shouldn’t really be so hard on Zechariah, though. He at least got to witness the answer of his prayers. But as he sings this song of praise, his son John is still just a baby. He still has to grow into the important role he was born into, as John the Baptist, the preparer of the way. So for them, even though their deepest longing has been fulfilled, more patience is still required.
It’s hard to be patient, when we are so used to getting what we want or need right away. But if we really believe, as Zechariah believed, that the dawn from on high will break upon us, that God who has promised to be faithful really will be faithful to us, then I think it might be worth it. Because the dawn has already broken on those of us who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. So in a sense we wait for what we already have – the presence of the Lord in our midst. Sometimes that presences is easy to miss, sometimes we don’t believe it because it’s too good to be true, and sometimes we miss it because darkness is more comfortable and familiar than light. And sometimes, God even uses us in order to shine the light for others.
In my photo for my Advent Picture-a-day, today I included this candle. You see it’s not an actual wax candle. It’s one of the “pretend” ones. I bought it last year for Holden evening prayer, when it was dropped and broken, and then I broke it more in trying to make it not look funny. I could have gotten another one, a new one that was whole, but I decided to keep it. I’ve used it in a few things – like this summer when nineteen youth from across the state met in Brick for the hottest week ever in order to help people still suffering the effects of Sandy. It shone for us as we shone line for others. I keep it because it reminds me that even though it’s not perfect, it’s kind of chipped and even, it still does what it’s supposed to. It still gives light to those who are in darkness.
And you child, shall be called the prophet of the most high, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways. Amen.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Thank God for Batkid, Pope Francis, and Chocolate-Covered Popcorn
Every year the Windsor Hightstown Area Ministerium (WHAM) has a community Thanksgiving service. They usually pick on, I mean pick the newest person in the group to preach at Thanksgiving, meaning this year it was yours truly. But it was kind of fun to preach at an interfaith service at a Catholic church!
Thanksgiving Service 11-24-13
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
So , thanksgiving sort of already happened for my husband and I. It was a couple of months ago, when a hug package showed up at the church in Hamilton where he served as pastor until recently. He called me up, and told me I’d better come over since this hug box was directed to me. The package was to me, with his churches address, with a return address that neither of us recognized – at least, it was not from anyone who were members of either of our churches. AND, to boot, the name of his church was spelled as though a kindergartener had spelled in phonetically. So, it was a mystery as to why it was there, and a miracle as to HOW it got there.
Eventually I remembered why the sender’s name was vaguely familiar. Weeks before, the local funeral home had called my husband up at the request of a local family, unconnected to a congregation, who desired to have their beloved “Meredith” given a Christian memorial service and burial. And they wanted a minister. And they wanted to do it at that church. Ok, well, since he couldn’t do it, I did. I guess you can do that if you’re married to a pastor from your own denomination, right?
So I presided at her memorial service, which for me, not having known this woman, was not all that memorable. I don’t remember saying anything particularly profound in the homily I gave, and no one was extremely overcome with emotion during the prayers. They might have invited me to a local restaurant for the family lunch after the burial, but I thanked them and politely declined, and went on with the rest of my day.
Fast forward now to that phone call and package in my husband’s office. We opened it up, and discovered a huge Harry and David’s gourmet gift basket. And I really do mean gourmet. Never before had I known that things like chocolate covered popcorn could taste like manna from heaven. Well, never before had we ever heard of Harry and David’s. We googled the company, found their website, and our eyes popped out when we saw the price of the gift basket we had been sent. For doing a service for a woman that I had never met. From people that I had only met once, probably for the sum total of an hour and a half. From a family that for all I knew had rarely darkened the door of a church, at least not until the day of their mother’s/sister’s/aunt’s/friend’s funeral. From people that I have not seen since. That day, in our own way, thanks to this family, my husband and I had celebrated the feast of Thanksgiving.
We Americans forget that we did not invent the concept of giving thanks. We may indeed be blamed for pairing it to turkey, stuffing, parades, November, and football. But thanksgiving was not born three hundred years ago in a celebratory meal between pilgrims and Native Americans. Nor was it created back in the Old World to celebrate the time of the harvest. As long as humankind has wondered at the mystery that is a seed growing and bearing fruit, we have been giving thanks.
And even though fewer and fewer of us these days actually work the land from which our food comes from, like clockwork, every fall as the leaves change and the air grows cold, we still have the urge to take stock of the blessings we have been given.
This year, though, has been a hard year to give thanks for. So much destruction and turmoil has happened in such a short time: the bombing of the Boston Marathon, nuclear testing in North Korea, the government shutdown, a bombing in a mall in Kenya, the collapse of a massive building in Bangladesh, lethal shootings at the Los Angeles Airport and the Washington DC Navy Yard, the cuts to food programs like food stamps in the continuing recession, and last but not least devastating Typhoon Haiyan in the Philippines. How can we really serve the Lord with gladness? How can we give thanks and bless God’s name in the midst of such a year?
There is plenty of good that has happened this year, too. Pope Francis. Three women were rescued after being kidnapped and held against their will for ten years. The election of the first female presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. A teenager saved a nine-year old boy from going over a massive waterfall in Yosemite national park. And just last week, a five-year old Make-a-wish kid got to dress up as Batkid and save the city of San Francisco alongside his favorite superhero, Batman.
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice.” These are words written long ago from a man in a jail cell to a fledgling Christian community long ago. But his words still ring true to us today, in a world fraught with fear. He continues, “ Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
It is so easy to miss the good things when the world tells us to focus on fear, anxiety, violence, and destruction. Because the scary things can be far more memorable than the good things. Case in point: I had to ask my friends to help me with the list I just shared of good things that happened this year, for two reasons. Because Wikipedia listed almost all negative events for 2013, and frankly I was having trouble coming up with them on my own. I had something like “good news amnesia.”
Bad news gets our attention. Good news is not as sensational or exciting, and therefore we must work harder in order to notice it. But if anything is worth of thanks, we must think on such things. In the responses I got from my friends, in addition to the big events that effected all of us, were plenty of reasons to give thanks that were more personal and mundane: – getting married and having children, landing a job they wanted, or have access to affordable health care, and even celebrating the victory of a favorite sports team. Together we remembered what one person was not able to remember alone.
This is probably the reason that Thanksgiving is a holiday that is not about eating Turkey and stuffing by ourselves. It is a day we feel compelled to celebrate with others, with family and friends, with our communities. Because what is the use of all the blessings we have, if we cannot share them with one another? God is not the shepherd of a flock of one.
ThanksGIVING may be one day a year. But THANKSgiving can happen every day, every hour, every moment, when we remember who we belong to - that God is our shepherd and we are God’s flock. THANKSgiving used to happen with grain and produce from the field; now it happens with turkey and pie, and sometimes even with Harry and David’s chocolate covered popcorn.
Perhaps it is a good thing that every year, on the fourth Thursday of November, we make ourselves remember not just what we should be giving thanks FOR, but who we should be giving thanks TO. At least once a year we wake up enough from our “good news amnesia,” to pool our memories in order to see our double blessing. Not just the fact that we are blessed, but that we recognize that we are blessed and give thanks for the blessings that we already have.
The Samaritan leper healed by Jesus did not need a reminder – he can already see what the rest of us often miss. And so we take our cue from a healed invalid with no name. For he himself was his own tithe, his own thanks offering, as he shouted his praise to God, for all to hear, both near and far:
Thanks be to God!
Thanks be to God!
Thanks be to God. Amen!
Thanksgiving Service 11-24-13
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
So , thanksgiving sort of already happened for my husband and I. It was a couple of months ago, when a hug package showed up at the church in Hamilton where he served as pastor until recently. He called me up, and told me I’d better come over since this hug box was directed to me. The package was to me, with his churches address, with a return address that neither of us recognized – at least, it was not from anyone who were members of either of our churches. AND, to boot, the name of his church was spelled as though a kindergartener had spelled in phonetically. So, it was a mystery as to why it was there, and a miracle as to HOW it got there.
Eventually I remembered why the sender’s name was vaguely familiar. Weeks before, the local funeral home had called my husband up at the request of a local family, unconnected to a congregation, who desired to have their beloved “Meredith” given a Christian memorial service and burial. And they wanted a minister. And they wanted to do it at that church. Ok, well, since he couldn’t do it, I did. I guess you can do that if you’re married to a pastor from your own denomination, right?
So I presided at her memorial service, which for me, not having known this woman, was not all that memorable. I don’t remember saying anything particularly profound in the homily I gave, and no one was extremely overcome with emotion during the prayers. They might have invited me to a local restaurant for the family lunch after the burial, but I thanked them and politely declined, and went on with the rest of my day.
Fast forward now to that phone call and package in my husband’s office. We opened it up, and discovered a huge Harry and David’s gourmet gift basket. And I really do mean gourmet. Never before had I known that things like chocolate covered popcorn could taste like manna from heaven. Well, never before had we ever heard of Harry and David’s. We googled the company, found their website, and our eyes popped out when we saw the price of the gift basket we had been sent. For doing a service for a woman that I had never met. From people that I had only met once, probably for the sum total of an hour and a half. From a family that for all I knew had rarely darkened the door of a church, at least not until the day of their mother’s/sister’s/aunt’s/friend’s funeral. From people that I have not seen since. That day, in our own way, thanks to this family, my husband and I had celebrated the feast of Thanksgiving.
We Americans forget that we did not invent the concept of giving thanks. We may indeed be blamed for pairing it to turkey, stuffing, parades, November, and football. But thanksgiving was not born three hundred years ago in a celebratory meal between pilgrims and Native Americans. Nor was it created back in the Old World to celebrate the time of the harvest. As long as humankind has wondered at the mystery that is a seed growing and bearing fruit, we have been giving thanks.
And even though fewer and fewer of us these days actually work the land from which our food comes from, like clockwork, every fall as the leaves change and the air grows cold, we still have the urge to take stock of the blessings we have been given.
This year, though, has been a hard year to give thanks for. So much destruction and turmoil has happened in such a short time: the bombing of the Boston Marathon, nuclear testing in North Korea, the government shutdown, a bombing in a mall in Kenya, the collapse of a massive building in Bangladesh, lethal shootings at the Los Angeles Airport and the Washington DC Navy Yard, the cuts to food programs like food stamps in the continuing recession, and last but not least devastating Typhoon Haiyan in the Philippines. How can we really serve the Lord with gladness? How can we give thanks and bless God’s name in the midst of such a year?
There is plenty of good that has happened this year, too. Pope Francis. Three women were rescued after being kidnapped and held against their will for ten years. The election of the first female presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. A teenager saved a nine-year old boy from going over a massive waterfall in Yosemite national park. And just last week, a five-year old Make-a-wish kid got to dress up as Batkid and save the city of San Francisco alongside his favorite superhero, Batman.
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice.” These are words written long ago from a man in a jail cell to a fledgling Christian community long ago. But his words still ring true to us today, in a world fraught with fear. He continues, “ Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
It is so easy to miss the good things when the world tells us to focus on fear, anxiety, violence, and destruction. Because the scary things can be far more memorable than the good things. Case in point: I had to ask my friends to help me with the list I just shared of good things that happened this year, for two reasons. Because Wikipedia listed almost all negative events for 2013, and frankly I was having trouble coming up with them on my own. I had something like “good news amnesia.”
Bad news gets our attention. Good news is not as sensational or exciting, and therefore we must work harder in order to notice it. But if anything is worth of thanks, we must think on such things. In the responses I got from my friends, in addition to the big events that effected all of us, were plenty of reasons to give thanks that were more personal and mundane: – getting married and having children, landing a job they wanted, or have access to affordable health care, and even celebrating the victory of a favorite sports team. Together we remembered what one person was not able to remember alone.
This is probably the reason that Thanksgiving is a holiday that is not about eating Turkey and stuffing by ourselves. It is a day we feel compelled to celebrate with others, with family and friends, with our communities. Because what is the use of all the blessings we have, if we cannot share them with one another? God is not the shepherd of a flock of one.
ThanksGIVING may be one day a year. But THANKSgiving can happen every day, every hour, every moment, when we remember who we belong to - that God is our shepherd and we are God’s flock. THANKSgiving used to happen with grain and produce from the field; now it happens with turkey and pie, and sometimes even with Harry and David’s chocolate covered popcorn.
Perhaps it is a good thing that every year, on the fourth Thursday of November, we make ourselves remember not just what we should be giving thanks FOR, but who we should be giving thanks TO. At least once a year we wake up enough from our “good news amnesia,” to pool our memories in order to see our double blessing. Not just the fact that we are blessed, but that we recognize that we are blessed and give thanks for the blessings that we already have.
The Samaritan leper healed by Jesus did not need a reminder – he can already see what the rest of us often miss. And so we take our cue from a healed invalid with no name. For he himself was his own tithe, his own thanks offering, as he shouted his praise to God, for all to hear, both near and far:
Thanks be to God!
Thanks be to God!
Thanks be to God. Amen!
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Advent Photo-a-Day
I found this on Facebook, and thought it would be a great way to mark the passage of Advent. I'm planning on participating via social media, posting pictures on here, Instagram, and Facebook. The season of Advent is usually just too crazy to try to do a full-on devotional, and I really like the interactive nature of this idea, of being able to participate and craft my own meaning out of it. And it will be less fattening than chocolate. :)
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
A Fairytale for Grownups, Only True
Sermon I preached on All Saints Sunday,11-3-13, at St. Mark's
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and savior Jesus the Christ. Amen
This is going to sound completely random, but bear with me, please. Do you have a favorite show that you MUST WATCH and you just CANNOT MISS an EPISODE? For me, I am totally addicted to a show called Once Upon a Time. Every Sunday at 8 PM, the TV had better be turned to that station OR ELSE. Don’t talk to me, don’t ask me anything, don’t make any loud noises, don’t even look at me for that whole hour. I just can’t miss a single minute of that show. I’m only a little obsessed, I think.
I think it’s a great show because it’s like a Disney fairytale for grownups. And who didn’t like Disney fairytales growing up? The princesses were beautiful and compassionate, the princes were brave and dashing, and all the woodland creatures were available to help you with basic household chores. We just had Halloween, and I’m sure you had your fair share of Disney princesses knocking at your door. This show, Once Upon a Time, keeps to the spirit of that classic fairytale structure – a baby, a princess by birth, the product of true love, is sent out into the world as the only hope to save her people, who are under wicked queen’s curse. But the twist is that the princess grows up in “the real world,” with cars and computers rather than magic and fairy dust, and she has a hard time coming to terms with her enchanted past.
But we all know that life is way more complicated than what happens in a fairytale. At some point we put away the gowns and crowns and magic wands. We grow up and realize that we were not actually secretly born a princess or a prince, and that we are not actually called to embark on a thrilling quest to save the kingdom.
Or are we?
If we truly outgrow fantasy, why is it then, that we are so drawn to “rags to riches” stories? Not just in fairytales but also played out in real life? Why were we so caught up in stories of people who started out with nothing and now are wildly famous and successful? Could it be that, no matter what age we are, we can’t help thinking “maybe, just maybe, this could be me”? That there is more to who I am than meets the eye? That I really might have what it takes to be a “hero” in my own story?
As it turns out, we have our own kind of “heroes” in our Christian tradition, don’t we? We typically call them “saints.” Think for just a moment: what does the word “saint” mean for you?.... Does it mean for you some sort of holy person? Someone who is kind and compassionate? Larger than life? Wholly devoted to God? A bit stuffy, who doesn’t like to have fun? Someone who makes you feel kind of like an inferior Christian compared to them?
In the Catholic Church, there are a lot of criteria that come with being a saint. You have to “qualify” in order to have that special title. I’m not sure what all the qualifications are, but I know that it involves miracles and many, many good deeds over the course of a lifetime. The point is, for them it’s very hard to get to be a saint.
For us, there is just one thing necessary to being a saint in the Lutheran Church. Do you want to know what it is? Do you? I hope you do, because I’m going to tell you anyway. But are you ready for it? Are you REALLY ready? You sure? Ok, here it is…
The one thing necessary to being a saint is…
Jesus.
Yup. You heard me right. Jesus is the one thing that you need in order to be a saint. And because of Jesus, we have ALL been made saints. Not the “holier than thou” kind of saint that is unattainable for most people. But instead, the kind of saint to is a forgiven and redeemed child of God.
So let’s forget about those Disney movies for a minute. Let’s forget about all the things you think that you think make up a truly “saintly” person. You have been called to be a saint. I want you all, right now, to turn to your neighbor and say to each other, “You are a saint…”
Because the most amazing story ever told is actually true: each and every one of you was chosen at birth to be something extraordinary: a beloved child of God. You have been promised an inheritance that is better than any land or wealth or title of prince or princess. And you got the advance of this inheritance in the form of a measure of the Holy Spirit and the mark of the cross on your forehead, as we heard Paul talk about in his letter to the Church in Ephesus. This was the pledge you received at your baptism.
How many of you remember when you were baptized? … If you were a baby, and DON’T remember, let me remind you what happened that day (and what happened earlier in this service). In the service of baptism, we are publicly acknowledging the fact God loves you and has chosen you to be his beloved child. If you were a baby, your parents promised to raise you so that you could live into this reality, both with their help and with God’s help.
And at the later service, we will witness some of our young people publicly affirming their baptism. They have decided that the reality of “beloved child of God”- that they had been brought to as babies - is something that they want to buy into for themselves. And so they will be claiming that inheritance given to them at baptism, and we will be promising to help them as they continue the next phase of their journey of faith.
In the show, Once Upon a Time, the baby princess grows up, and finally comes to terms with her birthright, and she is finally able to break the curse that holds her subjects captive. But that is not the end of the show – it’s only the end of season one. In season two she struggles with the implications of who she is, and tries with mixed results to live into her calling, not just as “savior” to her people, but also as a daughter - and a mother. And she doesn’t always get it right.
But the truth is, we’re still going to mess up. Being a saint, a beloved child of God, does not mean that we are going to be perfect and nice all the time. We’re still going to get frustrated at our kids. We’re still going to yell at people in traffic (which I do far too often). We’re still going to screw up our relationships and spend our money on things we don’t need and make judgments about people who are different from us.
But this is why Jesus didn’t just die for us. He knows that we need help, because we can’t do it alone. That’s why he walked around for three years with a crew of young, clueless blue collar working guys, saying stuff like “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Stuff that really is pretty obvious but is actually really hard to do. This is why Jesus taught us how to LIVE.
The Gospel of Luke really is a lot like a fairytale for grownups. Instead of the boy getting the girl, the lame get to walk and the blind get to see. Instead of the evil queen getting her just desserts, outlaws and outcasts are told that they matter to God. And that true love of God really does conquer all.
God loves you. And God chose you. You are a beloved child of God. And a saint. I want you to turn to your neighbor one more time and say to each other, “You are a saint”…
Because you really are ALL SAINTS. Amen.
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and savior Jesus the Christ. Amen
This is going to sound completely random, but bear with me, please. Do you have a favorite show that you MUST WATCH and you just CANNOT MISS an EPISODE? For me, I am totally addicted to a show called Once Upon a Time. Every Sunday at 8 PM, the TV had better be turned to that station OR ELSE. Don’t talk to me, don’t ask me anything, don’t make any loud noises, don’t even look at me for that whole hour. I just can’t miss a single minute of that show. I’m only a little obsessed, I think.
I think it’s a great show because it’s like a Disney fairytale for grownups. And who didn’t like Disney fairytales growing up? The princesses were beautiful and compassionate, the princes were brave and dashing, and all the woodland creatures were available to help you with basic household chores. We just had Halloween, and I’m sure you had your fair share of Disney princesses knocking at your door. This show, Once Upon a Time, keeps to the spirit of that classic fairytale structure – a baby, a princess by birth, the product of true love, is sent out into the world as the only hope to save her people, who are under wicked queen’s curse. But the twist is that the princess grows up in “the real world,” with cars and computers rather than magic and fairy dust, and she has a hard time coming to terms with her enchanted past.
But we all know that life is way more complicated than what happens in a fairytale. At some point we put away the gowns and crowns and magic wands. We grow up and realize that we were not actually secretly born a princess or a prince, and that we are not actually called to embark on a thrilling quest to save the kingdom.
Or are we?
If we truly outgrow fantasy, why is it then, that we are so drawn to “rags to riches” stories? Not just in fairytales but also played out in real life? Why were we so caught up in stories of people who started out with nothing and now are wildly famous and successful? Could it be that, no matter what age we are, we can’t help thinking “maybe, just maybe, this could be me”? That there is more to who I am than meets the eye? That I really might have what it takes to be a “hero” in my own story?
As it turns out, we have our own kind of “heroes” in our Christian tradition, don’t we? We typically call them “saints.” Think for just a moment: what does the word “saint” mean for you?.... Does it mean for you some sort of holy person? Someone who is kind and compassionate? Larger than life? Wholly devoted to God? A bit stuffy, who doesn’t like to have fun? Someone who makes you feel kind of like an inferior Christian compared to them?
In the Catholic Church, there are a lot of criteria that come with being a saint. You have to “qualify” in order to have that special title. I’m not sure what all the qualifications are, but I know that it involves miracles and many, many good deeds over the course of a lifetime. The point is, for them it’s very hard to get to be a saint.
For us, there is just one thing necessary to being a saint in the Lutheran Church. Do you want to know what it is? Do you? I hope you do, because I’m going to tell you anyway. But are you ready for it? Are you REALLY ready? You sure? Ok, here it is…
The one thing necessary to being a saint is…
Jesus.
Yup. You heard me right. Jesus is the one thing that you need in order to be a saint. And because of Jesus, we have ALL been made saints. Not the “holier than thou” kind of saint that is unattainable for most people. But instead, the kind of saint to is a forgiven and redeemed child of God.
So let’s forget about those Disney movies for a minute. Let’s forget about all the things you think that you think make up a truly “saintly” person. You have been called to be a saint. I want you all, right now, to turn to your neighbor and say to each other, “You are a saint…”
Because the most amazing story ever told is actually true: each and every one of you was chosen at birth to be something extraordinary: a beloved child of God. You have been promised an inheritance that is better than any land or wealth or title of prince or princess. And you got the advance of this inheritance in the form of a measure of the Holy Spirit and the mark of the cross on your forehead, as we heard Paul talk about in his letter to the Church in Ephesus. This was the pledge you received at your baptism.
How many of you remember when you were baptized? … If you were a baby, and DON’T remember, let me remind you what happened that day (and what happened earlier in this service). In the service of baptism, we are publicly acknowledging the fact God loves you and has chosen you to be his beloved child. If you were a baby, your parents promised to raise you so that you could live into this reality, both with their help and with God’s help.
And at the later service, we will witness some of our young people publicly affirming their baptism. They have decided that the reality of “beloved child of God”- that they had been brought to as babies - is something that they want to buy into for themselves. And so they will be claiming that inheritance given to them at baptism, and we will be promising to help them as they continue the next phase of their journey of faith.
In the show, Once Upon a Time, the baby princess grows up, and finally comes to terms with her birthright, and she is finally able to break the curse that holds her subjects captive. But that is not the end of the show – it’s only the end of season one. In season two she struggles with the implications of who she is, and tries with mixed results to live into her calling, not just as “savior” to her people, but also as a daughter - and a mother. And she doesn’t always get it right.
But the truth is, we’re still going to mess up. Being a saint, a beloved child of God, does not mean that we are going to be perfect and nice all the time. We’re still going to get frustrated at our kids. We’re still going to yell at people in traffic (which I do far too often). We’re still going to screw up our relationships and spend our money on things we don’t need and make judgments about people who are different from us.
But this is why Jesus didn’t just die for us. He knows that we need help, because we can’t do it alone. That’s why he walked around for three years with a crew of young, clueless blue collar working guys, saying stuff like “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Stuff that really is pretty obvious but is actually really hard to do. This is why Jesus taught us how to LIVE.
The Gospel of Luke really is a lot like a fairytale for grownups. Instead of the boy getting the girl, the lame get to walk and the blind get to see. Instead of the evil queen getting her just desserts, outlaws and outcasts are told that they matter to God. And that true love of God really does conquer all.
God loves you. And God chose you. You are a beloved child of God. And a saint. I want you to turn to your neighbor one more time and say to each other, “You are a saint”…
Because you really are ALL SAINTS. Amen.
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