Christmas Eve 2018

            We’ve come together here tonight to make an outrageous claim–that God is with us. We thought God lived way out there! We thought God was enthroned on high! We thought God was far away, distant, & beyond all our knowing. We thought God was unapproachable, transcending the created order, & ultimately unapproachable. But tonight, we make a different claim. God is with us!

            Our sometimes sentimental & romanticized versions of Christmas, which we’re certainly not immune from here tonight, want us to focus on a baby born in a stable long ago who came down from heaven to be the Savior of the world. There’s no question that, of all the miraculous birth stories in the Bible, this one stands out for its improbable claims on both our reason & our imagination.

            How is it that God could take on human flesh?! How could it be that one who existed from before time & eternity would become as vulnerable as a newborn baby, so subject to the impermanence of the human form, so constrained to the limitations of the material world, time & space?! But this child, who was Jesus of Nazareth, came to reveal an even deeper reality, which is that God is always with us.

            Tonight we’re not here to celebrate just an event from over 2,000 years ago in a faraway place, but a truth about who & where God is. Jesus’ birth, his life, everything about his ministry & his teaching, as well as his death & resurrection were to reveal what is always & everywhere true; & that is that God is here. God is with us. God is the ground of our being, the truest truth about our reality. It is in God that we live & move & have our being. In his life we witness what it means–what it looks like–to live in that reality. And when we do, it changes everything.

            We live in a society that has so trivialized Christmas & what it means–& I don’t just mean the commercialization that we’re all so aware of. I mean a culture in which some want the test of your Christian faith to be measured by how outraged you are that Starbucks doesn’t say

Merry Christmas on its red cup or by whether you say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays to people at the checkout in the grocery or department store.

            I would suggest that there are indeed legitimate reasons why a Christian might want to express outrage in our society; but those reasons have more to do with the continuing problems of homelessness, rising levels of income inequality, racism, & the epidemic of gun violence that afflicts our nation. These are things that just don’t make any sense at all from the lens of a faith that proclaims that God is with us.

            When the message of Christmas really dawns on us–when our eyes are opened to the reality of this story–that God is with us, in all of creation, in our very being & the very being of our neighbors--& we begin to stand in awe of that & live into the implications of such a proclamation, it will change our world from the nightmare it often is, to the dream that God has for us & for all people.

            When you look at this planet earth from space–and we’ve all seen the pictures–it’s hard to conceive that all of us living here on this little speck together are not in fact neighbors, or that we are not all one in substance & that our destiny isn’t bound up together. And if it really is true that we are all neighbors, it surely puts the conflicts we face here at home & throughout the world in a whole new light.

            Jesus was born into a conflicted world. And it was in that context that he taught us to welcome the stranger, to love our neighbors as ourselves, & yes, even to love our enemies. Which is hard to do when we too often seem to be more interested in drawing lines & raising walls between people than actually getting to know them, & learning to love them.

            The story of Christmas isn’t just a miracle that happened long ago. It’s a story that reveals an underlying truth to all of life & all of existence–that God is with us. God is here

within us & among us. When we persist at looking for what divides us, we miss the reality of

God with us. And it shows in how we think about & how we treat those we deem other than ourselves.

            Some have suggested that the best way for us to keep Christ in Christmas isn’t to print Merry Christmas on coffee cups or erect manger scenes in public places, but to love our neighbors as ourselves, to do good to those who despitefully use us, to welcome the stranger & to feed the hungry & clothe the naked–actions that come naturally from those whose eyes have been opened to the reality of God with us.

            There seems to be an awful lot of fear in our country today–fears that are easily projected onto groups of people, whether Muslims, or immigrants, or refugees, or people of a different race or religion–lots of worldly passions that seemingly run unchecked. Our reading from Titus tonight seems especially appropriate in this light. “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all, training us to renounce impiety & worldly passions while we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God & Savior, Jesus Christ. He it is who gave himself for us that he might redeem us all of us from sin.

            Tonight we once again receive the grace of God in the child who has appeared, bringing salvation to all. And we make that outrageous claim that through his birth a light has come into the world, shining into the darkness & opening our eyes to a deep truth–that God is with us. It

is a truth that changes everything…if we will believe it, & if we will begin to try to live it.

            Merry Christmas everyone!

Sermon for December 23, 2018- 4th Sunday of Advent

Advent 4C- Dec. 23

Luke 1:39-55

            My first experience of singing in public was as 1 of the 3 kings in our 6^th grade school Christmas concert. Two years later, I decided that I would try singing in our church’s choir. At the conclusion of my initial choir practice, the director thanked me for coming & then added, “But please, from now on don’t let any sound come out of your mouth; because you can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” Needless to say, I didn’t remain in the choir; & it wasn’t until more than 20 years later that God opened my mouth & I found my voice again.

            In our responsive reading this morning, Mary finds her voice & sings a song for the ages.  Tied up with her story is another story about a man who first loses & then later, finds his voice as well.

            The man was Zechariah, a priest of the temple. His & his wife Elizabeth’s story is one that begins in chapter 1 & that Luke weaves in & out of the story of Mary & Joseph. Like Abraham & Sarah before them, Zechariah & Elizabeth were old & childless. One day, Zechariah went to work at the temple & while he was alone in the inner sanctuary, an angel appeared, scaring him half to death.

            The angel said, “Don’t be afraid Zechariah, your wife will bear you a son; & you’re to call him John.” The angel then proceeded to tell Zechariah what wonderful things his son would do. Well, Zechariah had some doubts which, personally, I find both understandable & amusing. After all, he is old & his wife is old; & though it’s the 1^st century, these people do understand basic reproductive biology. So, it’s a legitimate objection. 

            But the angel wasn’t amused at his doubts & got very stern with Zechariah, “I am the angel Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, & I have been sent to speak to you & tell you this good news. Because you don’t believe what I’ve said, you shall live in silence & shall be unable to speak a word until the day it happens.” And so it was that Zechariah lost his voice.

            The story then shifts to a time 6 months later when the same angel Gabriel visits a young peasant girl named Mary. He tells her equally some unbelievable news--that she will bear a child. Mary may have been young, but she too knew her basic biology. “How can this be?” she asked. The angel reassured her that it was true & offered the proof that her elderly cousin, Elizabeth, was also pregnant, even though she was beyond her child-bearing years. But, unlike her cousin’s husband, Mary bought in--“May it be to me as you have said,” she replied.

            Then comes the part of the story contained in our Gospel reading. As soon as Gabriel left her, Mary went “with haste” to visit with Elizabeth. In one of the more charming incidents in the Bible, Luke shows John the Baptist “leaping in the womb,” when Mary arrives; presumably excited over the presence of Jesus in Mary.

            Immediately after this encounter, Luke shows Mary bursting into song with the words that have come to be known as “The Magnificat”–a poem rich with images from the Hebrew Scriptures about God rescuing the poor, the lonely & the downtrodden from their distress.

            After Mary’s song is sung, the text turns back to the story of John’s birth. When the baby was born, the kinfolk wanted to name him Zechariah, after his father; but Elizabeth said, “No, his name is John.” And, as the kinfolk continued to argue, Zechariah took up a tablet & wrote, “His name is John.” It was then, as he made that confession of faith in the promise of God, that his tongue was loosed—that he found his voice--& burst into song, a song of prophecy & joy.

            It’s not by accident that Christmas is a time filled with music & singing. When our hearts are full of hope, our mouths are naturally full of joyful praise. When we embrace fully God’s promise to be with us in the world, when we give ourselves over completely to the miracle that is God’s intrusive love in the world, then we find ourselves with a story to tell & a song to sing.

            Jesus, the very Word of God comes to us again this year. And God makes promises to come into the world through us, to bless the world through us, to save the world through us. Now, we can make excuses. We can be like Zechariah was at first, saying, “We’re too old. Our voices aren’t the best. We’ve already tried that, & we know it won’t work.” We can stutter & stumble & run off life’s stage, unwilling to sing. Or we can say, with Mary, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word.”

            And when we do, we will--like Mary & Zechariah--burst forth with words of hope, love, joy & peace, the words of God’s Advent among us; & we will commit ourselves anew to lives of servanthood & grace. Amen.

Sermon- 1st Sunday of Advent 2018

Advent 1C- Dec. 2

Luke 21:25-36; Jeremiah 33:14-16

            Happy New Year! Welcome to the 1^st Sunday of Advent, which marks the beginning of the New Church Year. There aren’t the typical New Year’s celebrations: no fireworks or “Auld Lang Syne”.  But we do have a lit Advent Wreath & the blue paraments of hope that have shown up since last Sunday’s worship. These signs help to point us in the direction, & prepare us for, the coming of God-with-us, Emmanuel. But we’re not there yet; & so we wait.  

            Advent is a time for waiting & breathing, not a time to rush too quickly from one thing to the next. I believe we miss something if we rush too quickly to Christmas. Advent helps us to pause, take a breath, & prepare--not only our homes & church, but our hearts & minds for what is about to come.   

            For some people Advent is a strange practice amid the hustle & bustle of Christmas preparations. Advent has been compared to the hush that falls over the crowd just as a concert or a play is about to begin. The audience & the players all pause & wait, wondering with anticipation what the future holds. Observing Christmas without Advent is like celebrating Easter without passing through Lent & Good Friday–it’s possible, but the meaning can get lost so easily because our hearts & minds aren’t fully prepared.

            Advent lasts 4 weeks & is followed by Christmas–a season 12 days long that starts on the eve of December 25th. But we’re not there yet. So, if you came today expecting to hear about Christmas, then you’re likely to be disappointed. Our assigned Scripture texts today don’t include the birth narrative of Jesus. It’s not yet time to sing “Joy to the World” or “Silent Night.”            Instead, this morning we heard the prophet Jeremiah speak of a promise from God spoken to comfort a people amidst destruction & war; & we heard Luke’s Gospel tell of a time to come when Jesus will return again. These passages, especially when held up together in Advent, help us to see our own lives as part of the ongoing narrative of God’s people who live into the already/not yet waiting for Christ. We know he has come in the flesh & will come again this year at Christmas; & yet he hasn’t arrived in the 2^nd coming.

            For the early church in Luke’s time this was a problem. The Resurrection has come & gone; Jesus said he would come back soon; but it’s been 2 decades…so, where is he? We can almost hear the Gospel writer saying, “Maybe it’s time to reframe our thinking about when he’ll arrive, & instead wait expectantly.” And so we sit with hope in our hearts & wait.  

            I’ve thought a lot about waiting with hope this past week, as I’ve wondered where I see hope in our world today. Sometimes, if you are anything like me, we have to be intentional in looking for hope; because it’s so hard to find amidst all the bad news & Christmas consumerism.  Where in the world is God at work giving us signs to wait with hope &, at the same time, fulfilling the promise to be with us forever?

            But then I watch Lutheran friends taking time to donate blood to save the lives of people they don’t even know. I see folks in our 2 small congregations donating several hundreds of dollars of food supplies to the Cheez & Cracker Box in just 2 weeks--& hear children ask if they can help deliver that food. I see our Reverse Advent donation boxes for Casa Family Systems filling up.  And I know that God is indeed at work around us giving us signs of hope to hold onto in the waiting times.

            So where are your signs of hope to help with this Advent waiting? What do you see when you look around with new eyes, just waiting for that curtain to rise & the actors to take the stage?  How is God at work as you take a moment to breathe this Advent? Do you hear the whispers?  Do you see the signs? Where do you find hope for the waiting?

            Poet Dom Helder Camara writes, “The Spirit is Breathing/ All those with eyes to see, women & men with ears for hearing detect a coming dawn; a reason to go on.// They seem small, these signs of dawn, perhaps ridiculous.// All those with eyes to see, women & men with ears for hearing, uncover in the night a certain gleam of light; they see the reason to go on.”    

            May we all wait with patience & hope this Advent. Amen.