The Lord comes to meet us

Standard

Sermon for Palm Sunday 2022

Readings:

The Liturgy of the Palms

The Liturgy of the Word

https://youtube.com/watch?v=uxzDSfWo9bk%3Fstart%3D2502

As Jesus rides his donkey down the Mount of Olives, riding out to meet his people, there is this moment recorded in Luke’s gospel where Jesus stops for a minute, he looks at the Holy City just across from him, and he cries. He weeps. It is a glorious moment. There is a crowd of people that is following him down the mountain and they are waving palm branches and even throwing their cloaks down on the road, and they are hailing him as a king. They call him Son of David. The successor to the great king. It is a triumphant moment, but before Jesus crosses over the valley and enters the Eastern gate of the Temple, he stops and he weeps. There is a little chapel on the side of the Mount of Olives today called the Dominus Flevit, the Lord Wept, and it is in the shape of a teardrop. It is meant to mark this moment.

And Jesus says to his beloved city in that moment: “If you had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But they are hidden from your eyes. You are going to be crushed by your enemies; your glorious stones will be cast to the ground, because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.” You did not recognize God’s presence in your midst. Not only were people unable to identify and appreciate the presence of God, but they could no longer recognize the ways of God. 

Now some people surely did. There were righteous and holy people in Jerusalem and Jesus even points some of them out, but as a society there was a problem. People had gotten so used to the Temple in all of its external glory and grandeur that they were beginning to lose sight of what it signified: God’s presence in their midst. What happens when we lose sight of God’s presence? What happens when God’s existence is no longer a reality to us? Well, in short order we stop recognizing the ways of God. Right and wrong. Moral and Immoral. If you think Christian cultures have a long history of doing bad things, take a good look at some of the horrors that atheistic cultures or pagan cultures have wrought on the world. We Christians, we may sin and do bad things, but our God calls us out on it. Our own tradition calls us to repentance. We still make mistakes, but at least we recognize that they are, in fact, mistakes. But what happens when we stop recognizing that? What happens when all things become relative or subjective and we lose the ability to recognize truth and goodness and God? 

Our enemies will crush us. That is Jesus’s harrowing prediction. Jerusalem will be destroyed because it has lost sight of what has always saved it: God’s presence. The Temple and Jerusalem are so precious to Jesus, because they are a symbol of God’s relationship to his people. The Temple was a reminder that although God is omnipotent and the creator of the universe, that nonetheless he desires to live in relationship with us humans. It is an amazing, wild assertion if you think about it; the idea that the vast, boundless cosmos, cares about any one individual human being, much less all of them. That is a wild, crazy assertion. But here is this building that says God wants to live with people. And when you really think about what a wild claim that is, then it makes sense that if people believed that, that they would be treating the temple with the utmost care and respect. It would be the focal point of their lives. A place where they have communion, relationship with God. But here is what happens when you hold something holy in your hands for too long: you are very liable to forget and lose sight of just how holy it is. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, he found in the holiest place on earth, a lot of people treating the temple more or less as a place of business. A market; a place of transactions. And not just everyday transactions, but even semi-divine transactions: I will do this thing for the God, if the God will do this thing for me. I will give this, sacrifice this, say this prayer, if this God will give me some material benefit that I desire. Things like growth, holiness, conversion, transformation, peace, communion, the simple presence of God in your midst…those things don’t matter when God becomes (when people believe in him at all) some kind of vending machine. 

This is what Jesus finds when he rides into Jerusalem. Not with everyone certainly, but with a lot of people. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. The prophet Jeremiah had witnessed the same thing and Jesus uses Jeremiah’s words: “my house shall be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of robbers.” His words struck a nerve. Jesus has been saying challenging and difficult things throughout his ministry, but now as he comes to the end of it, both publicly and privately, Jesus says words that come to the heart of the matter: we do not recognize God’s presence when it is right in front of us. We fail to appreciate God’s saving power. God’s life, which is shared with his people, becomes something we turn to, not for daily strength and holiness, but something we turn to when everything else has failed. Like Samuel Johnson’s description of patriotism, it becomes the last refuge of a scoundrel. 

Our Lord, who promised paradise to the thief on the cross next to him, no doubt saves scoundrels too. But if we believe that the Jesus who offered such compassion and such hope to a man who was so unworthy of it, if we believe that that Jesus is encountered here in some way, whether it is in moments of silent prayer and reflection, in studying and hearing his words in the scriptures, in the grace that is given to us in the sacraments, most especially the sacrament of his body and blood, his real presence in the bread and the wine, if we believe that Jesus is present here, then shouldn’t that be reflected in our lives? In our priorities? 

Have we become so used to the idea of God dwelling among us, that we fail to see, fail to recognize, what a revolutionary belief that really is? I hope we don’t. We have come to the holiest week in the year for Christians. Every year we proclaim in spectacular ways a truth that changes everything. The God of all creation, the God of the universe, comes to meet you. Your salvation, your hope, your life is coming to meet you. You personally. This God is coming to meet you in sacred spaces like temples and churches, this God is coming to meet you in sacred texts and sacred rituals. This God is coming to meet you in bread and wine. This God is coming to meet you in the cross, not only in his cross and suffering, but in your cross and suffering to. This God is coming to meet you in moments of triumph and in moments of defeat; in moments of new life and in moments of death. Most of all this God is coming to meet you in a resurrected body that is going to turn everything you know or that you think you know about life and death upside down. The God of scripture, which is the God of Jesus Christ, this is a God which we encounter. This is a God who comes to meet us. Even though we ignore him. Ignore his house. Ignore his commandments. He still comes to meet us. We will misunderstand him. We will say that he said things he didn’t say. We will crucify him and kill him. And still he comes to meet us again. What a remarkable thing; we should never take it for granted. The Lord still comes to meet us, even when we aren’t looking for him or don’t recognize him. The Lord comes to meet us, even when he is hidden from our eyes.

Opposing Jesus

Standard

Sermon for April 3rd, 2022

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=OJjjaaPScC4%3Fstart%3D1099

The gallery of European Paintings from 1250 to 1800, and the Medieval Art gallery, are my two favorite galleries in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I love to wander through them, and I go back to them again and again, I think in part, because the subject matter of most of the artwork in those two galleries is the life of Christ. One moment in the life of Christ after another. One snapshot after another, and one artist’s impression of Jesus’s story after another. All hanging there on the wall in a series of images that we walk past and take in. Yes, there are the occasional nature scenes and portraits of fancy Lords and Ladies, but the majority of the paintings in those galleries depict various scenes from the life of Jesus or other famous stories from the Bible.

 Say what you will about life in the pre-modern world, many people may not have been able to read the words of the Bible, but Biblical literacy in terms of knowing the stories of the Bible, well that was probably better than it is now. The stories of the Bible surrounded people in the visual arts. There, in those galleries, is the proof.

So as I walk through those galleries, what I see are moments in the life of Jesus as each artist has depicted them. Impressions really. They are telling me a story through the use of images. The paintings point to and direct me to a fuller story of the life of Jesus Christ, but they each only tell a portion of the story. There are things that the artist wants me to see that are painted directly on the canvas, but then there are always many, many more details that the artist doesn’t paint. There is always more going on that just what is shown. The artist often assumes that I know some of the background to the story. Sometimes there are images or symbols painted within the scene that are there to direct me to another part of the story. And sometimes the artist relies upon me to fill in some details myself. Artists are crafty like that. 

The way I feel walking through a gallery of religious art at the Met, is very similar to how I feel when reading through the gospels: you get lots of snippets, scenes and vignettes, but you also realize that there is usually a lot more to the story than the artist has set before you. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, they give us images or depictions of moments and stories in Jesus’s life. And like at the Met, I can go back to these images or depictions again and again, and very often I will discover something new. A detail that I hadn’t noticed before. 

Look at the image that John has painted in the gospel passage you heard this morning: Jesus is the guest of honor at a dinner. Martha is there in the background, serving up dinner as usual, but her sister Mary is doing something rather strange. She is at Jesus’s feet with a bottle of perfume. She has poured the perfume all over his feet and she is wiping them with her hair. Such an odd thing to do, that is almost uncomfortably intimate. And we are told that there is this smell that just wafts up from the perfume and fills the air. And as we are thinking about this sweet smell of perfume we notice that the person sitting next to Jesus is Lazarus, Martha and Mary’s brother. 

Suddenly our minds are transported back to the last scene, because the last time we saw Lazarus in the last chapter, HE needed that perfume. He was four days dead and people could smell him outside the tomb. That is why that perfume of Mary’s was so strong, it was meant to cover up the smell of death. That is what that anointing oil was for. But Mary isn’t using the perfume on Lazarus, he is sitting at the table next to Jesus. Hopefully he’s had a bath since they took the burial cloths off him, but there he is alive and well. No, Mary is using the perfume on Jesus. This doesn’t make any sense, because if you remember from the last scene, the last picture John painted, Jesus proved that he had power over death. He raised Lazarus back to life, and there Lazarus sits reminding us that Jesus has power over death…and yet, Mary is on her knees anointing Jesus’s body like it is about to be buried. It just doesn’t make any sense.

And standing next to Jesus, leaning in to his ear is Judas. There he is pointing down to Mary disapprovingly, and pointing to Jesus too and saying, “don’t let her do this.” Stop this Jesus. This doesn’t make any sense. This is wasteful. Maybe Judas’s motives weren’t pure, but he did have a point: why should we waste burial perfume on a man that has proven he has power over death? Judas seems reasonable to me. But Jesus insists.

It seems a bit strange. What other pictures does John paint in his gospel? Well let’s walk on to the next one. We are in chapter 12 now, but as we enter chapter 13 we find ourselves in another dining room, only this time Jesus is the one on the floor on his knees and he is washing his disciples’ feet. And as Jesus comes up to Peter, Peter pushes back and says “No! Stop this Jesus. You will never wash my feet. You are our Lord and Master, what are you doing groveling on the floor like a servant? This doesn’t make any sense. And you know, Peter seems very reasonable to me. I wouldn’t want Jesus to see the ugly and dirty parts of me either. But Jesus insists. 

Strange. You know it occurs to me as I look at these two episodes or scenes in John’s gospel side by side, that very often throughout this gospel, John is careful to include somewhere in each scene he paints, someone that is opposing Jesus. In just about every scene, there is someone saying: “stop Jesus! Don’t do this. Don’t let this happen!” Stop Jesus! You can’t talk to me, I’m a Samaritan woman. Stop Jesus! You can’t heal on the sabbath. Stop Jesus! We don’t have enough food or money to feed these people. Stop Jesus! Stop saying you came down from heaven. Stop talking about your flesh as if it were bread. Stop Jesus! Don’t go to Bethany. Lazarus is dead. There’s nothing you can do there. It’s too dangerous. Jesus, stop this woman from washing your feet. Jesus, stop trying to wash my feet. Stop Jesus! Don’t go away. Don’t leave us. Don’t go to the cross. Stop Jesus! Don’t die! You don’t have to die do you? 

In all of these scenes there is someone that is trying to stop Jesus. There seems to be this theme of resistance to Jesus. One of the things about John’s gospel that can be a problem is that in many scenes John simply labels Jesus’s opposition or resistance as “the Jews.” It’s a problem because we are quick to forget that Jesus was a Jew, all of the disciples were Jews. Facts like that don’t matter when you are looking for a scapegoat. Throughout history, Christians have used John’s use of the generic term “the Jews” as an excuse for horrid persecutions. We have used it to paint Jewish people as enemies of Christ, because we always want someone else to be opposing Jesus. For two thousand years we have been looking for someone to blame for his death. But what I see, as I pass by all these images that John has painted of Jesus’s story, is that it’s not that simple. You know, just about everyone in this gospel, at some point or another, has a conflict with Jesus. Just about everyone at some point or another, says “stop Jesus! Don’t do this. Don’t let this happen. This doesn’t make sense.” And you know, sometimes they seem pretty reasonable.  Even his best friends. Peter, Judas, Martha, Jesus’s brothers, Thomas, all of the disciples resist Jesus. It would be so easy to just look at today’s scene from the gospel, and think, “ah, there’s Judas, he’s the bad guy.” But what I notice as I pass from one scene in John’s gospel to another, looking at the pictures he has painted, is that the people who are opposing Jesus, whether John calls them “the Jews,” or the Pharisees, or the disciples, or Peter, or Judas…I notice that in the right light, they look an awful lot like me. 

Just Like Us

Standard

Sermon for March 20th, 2022

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=mg0WDoI9WEA%3Fstart%3D1579

The Bible has more to say about human nature than it does Divine nature. We learn more about mankind by reading the Bible, than we do about God. 

Now I don’t want you to misunderstand me here. I do believe the scriptures to be divinely inspired books, and I do believe that God reveals himself to us in them. They are a record of God many revelations of himself to us, and for us Christians, the supreme revelation of God was in the person of Jesus Christ, who we encounter in scripture. God is revealed to us in the Bible, but there is, as I suppose there should be, always an element of mystery surrounding God’s self-revelation. 

When Moses encounters the voice of God in the burning bush, he can’t wrap his head around it or figure it out. It is a mysterious thing to him, and he can only get so close. And when Moses asks God who he is, the response that he gets is “I am who I am.” Moses is told that this “I am” is the God of his ancestors, and Moses is told what this God is going to do for him, and Moses is eventually told what this God expects of him, but there is much about who this “I am” really is that remains shrouded in mystery. 

Our Lord Jesus Christ, who reveals so much to us about God’s nature, and who often refers to himself as “I am,” well much of our Lord’s life, particularly his interior life, remains shrouded in mystery as well. This is of course to be expected when encountering a being so much greater than ourselves, God is bound to be mysterious to us. So God is revealed to us in scripture, but it is always in a cloud of mystery.

What the scriptures are far less mysterious about, and what they have even more to say about, is human beings. The Bible has a lot to say about human beings and human nature. I’m sure there are plenty of atheists and unbelievers out there that think they have no use for the Bible because they question God’s existence, but let me tell you, the Bible has even more to say about who we are than it does who God is. And in case you don’t already know, human beings are a mess. 

We are a mess and we always have been. Now it would be easy to read the scriptures from a point of extreme condescension, looking at all the characters and going tsk, tsk, tsk, look at all these silly people making the same mistakes over and over again. All these Israelites are petty and argumentative, and God saves them and they forget, and God saves them again and they forget, and God tells them to do things and they don’t do it, and God saves them again and they forget again. It would be easy to sit back and be real self-satisfied and be all proud of ourselves that we are so much superior than them, more enlightened, more educated, more progressive, that is, until the moment comes, and it can come quite suddenly, when our illusions and delusions are shattered and we realize that all this time when we were looking down on our ancestors in the scriptures, we were actually looking in a mirror. 

You realize that you are the same mess that they were. You are not better than your ancestors. Please get that. You may think that you are more enlightened or more educated, or less superstitious, but the truth is that you are the same mess that they were, only worse because now you have this layer of arrogance poured on top that makes you think you are superior. I think this has gotten worse in modern times, because we like to think that ancient people were extremely ignorant and primitive and lived in a completely different world than we do, but human beings have always been prone to thinking that we are somehow superior to those that came before us. 

In the gospel today, there is this discussion between Jesus and his followers about two terrible tragedies that were fairly recent history: one a brutal massacre of some Galileans by Pilate and the other a building collapse that killed a number of people. And Jesus asks his followers: do you think you are better than these people? Do you think that you have so figured things out that these same things can’t happen to you? And his response is, NO! You are not better than these people. 

Paul says something similar in his letter to the Corinthians. Paul talks about the Israelites travelling through the desert and the mistakes that they made. Now here is something that Christians often do when reading the Old Testament, we like to think that we are inherently superior to the ancient Israelites or the Jews, we like to think that we are more faithful and that we have figured life out in a way that they haven’t, and Paul’s advice to some folks that are thinking that way is: watch out! If you think you are standing, mighty and proud, watch out! You might be about to stumble and fall yourself. Don’t put God to the test by thinking that you are superior to your ancestors.

The answer that both Paul and Jesus give, the solution to this dilemma, is that we are to live lives of continual repentance, always remembering that our salvation comes from God, not from ourselves. We may learn from our ancestors mistakes, but we can only truly do that when we remember that we are not superior to them. The Bible becomes so much more meaningful to read when you finally realize that the stories it contains aren’t about some mythical God dealing with a primitive and foreign people, they are about a living mystery that has a long history of saving people just like us. 

Peace is something worth fighting for.

Standard

Sermon for March 13th, 2022

The Second Sunday in Lent

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=uIm__PDRvMA%3Fstart%3D1284

Jesus is going about doing what he is supposed to be doing. He is casting out demons. He is healing the sick. He is preaching. He is calling people to repentance, to live differently, to adjust their values, and to prepare for God’s kingdom, because God’s kingdom IS coming, and when it does come the world is going to be in for a major sorting out. Jesus has a purpose and a mission. Jesus knows who he is and he knows what he’s about. 

It is a powerful thing to know who you are and to know what you are about.

There is a great scene from the TV show Parks and Recreation, where the character Ron Swanson, who is a notorious conservative and a die-hard meat-eater, is sitting in a restaurant looking at the menu and tells the waiter he will have a number 8. The waiter replies:

That is a party platter, Sir. It serves 12 people.

And Ron says: I know what I’m about son!

It’s a great scene, and it is very funny, but it highlights how that character knows who he is and what he is about, even in ridiculous ways. It is a great thing to know what you’re about. It isn’t just funny, it’s powerful. Jesus knows what he’s about.

So when the Pharisees come up to Jesus and tell him that he needs to watch out for Herod and run away, Jesus basically thumbs his nose and says: you go tell Herod this. I have work to do. I am going to be casting out demons and curing people today. I will be casting out demons and curing people tomorrow. I will be casting out demons and curing people three days from now. I am going to do the work that I need to do as long as I need to do it. And when I am done, then I will move on because I know I have other work to do too. Jesus knows what he’s about and he isn’t going to let some petty tyrant keep him from his work and mission. Not even if that tyrant threatens to kill him. 

Jesus knows that what he is doing is dangerous and risky, but he also knows that the real danger isn’t Herod, it is what is waiting for him in Jerusalem. The real showdown isn’t between Jesus and some earthly King. It isn’t between Jesus and Herod; it isn’t between Jesus and Pilate; and it isn’t between Jesus and the temple authorities. The real showdown is between Jesus and the devil. Satan, darkness and the power of death…that is the real enemy and ground zero for that fight is going to be on a cross just outside of the gates of Jerusalem. That is where Jesus is headed and he knows it. He wants to go and gather up the children of Jerusalem like a mother hen with her chicks, to protect them from foxes like Herod, but it’s hard, because you know the devil likes to divide us and scatter us and that makes it easier for foxes and other predators to pick us off. It is a hard and dangerous thing that Jesus is about to do, trying to save people, especially saving them from themselves. What should he do? Should he run and hide himself in a cave somewhere until all the Herods have gone? When will that be?

Should Jesus make peace with the devil so that he doesn’t have to go to the cross? It seems to me that if Jesus wanted to make peace with the devil he would have done it last weekend. You know, when we read about Jesus in the desert being tempted. Jesus could have avoided hunger and privation, he could have had ultimate political and financial security, and he could have lived with this fantasy of never getting hurt and never dying. Jesus could have had all those things if he had just listened to the devil and made a deal with him. But he chose not to do that. Making peace with evil was not what Jesus was about. 

You know when a lot of people talk about peace, and use the word peace, I think most of the time what they really mean is “not fighting.” Can’t we all just put down our weapons and walk away from conflict? Hey that sounds good to me, I’m not a huge fan of conflict. I like it when people get along, and for that matter I like being comfortable and I like not worrying about people trying to kill me. But is that really peace? Living in a world where nothing is worth fighting for and evil always gets what it wants? It seems to me that if that was the sort of peace Jesus wanted, that when the Pharisees told him that Herod wanted him dead he would have turned tail and headed in the other direction. But Jesus didn’t do that. We call Jesus the Prince of Peace, but I wonder if his peace is a lot different than the peace that politicians often promise us. Jesus said he would give us his peace, but he also said it isn’t peace as the world gives it. Jesus also told us he would bring a sword and division. 

People throw the word peace around as if it is some sort of magical incantation or talisman. Peace, peace, peace. We are praying for peace, and we should always pray for peace, and we should always pray for our enemies, but praying for our enemies does not suddenly make them not our enemies. And praying for peace does not mean that some things are not worth fighting for. The war in Europe could end tomorrow if the Ukraine would just give Russian their land, but is that peace? What is the best way to spread peace in the world, by ignoring evil, giving in to it, or by confronting it? 

We all know that when Jesus finally rode into Jerusalem and rode his donkey up to the temple mount that he had a few things to say to the money changers there before he drove them out, well many hundreds of years before Jesus another prophet, the prophet Jeremiah had some harsh words for the people in Jerusalem too, especially the prophets and priests. Jeremiah said: “from prophet to priest, everyone deals falsely. They have treated the wound of my people carelessly, saying, ‘peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.”

Another translation of that passage has it: “They offer healing offhand for the wounds of my people, saying ‘all is well, all is well,’ when nothing is well.”

Praying for peace, desiring peace, does not mean that we are called to ignore evil when it is right in front of us. Praying for peace does not mean that we sit back and imagine that it is just going to fall out of the sky, or we nurse some wild fantasy that human beings are going to wake up someday and just start getting along and holding hands and acting completely rationally. Peace doesn’t come from doing nothing. Peace, true peace, comes from knowing who you are and what you are about. Peace doesn’t come from ignoring evil, peace can only really come when it is confronted. Yes, it is dangerous and risky and may involve suffering and even death. Jesus knows about that more than any of us do, but peace is something worth fighting for. Peace is something worth fighting for. We have had relative peace in our country for a long time. But it didn’t just happen to us. It didn’t fall out of the sky. We have had peace because people fought for it. And not just the soldiers on the field, especially them, but also people at home who delt with rations and gas shortages, and welded ships and bought war bonds and the list goes on and on and on. People did whatever they had to do. They made drastic changes to their lives, and they did so quickly, because they understood what was at stake. The struggle for peace involves everyone being able to see the bigger picture, to make sacrifices and do their duty for the common good. The struggle for peace involves knowing who you are and what you are about, and having the courage to stand up for that. Yes, we can and should pray for peace, but there are other things we need to pray for as well: courage, fortitude, strength, determination, wisdom, and an understanding and respect for right and wrong. We need to pray that God will remind us of who we are and what we are about and that we will have the courage to follow where he leads, and confront evil when we are called to do so, because without that we will never have peace, not true peace.

Yes, it would be wonderful if there were no Herods in the world. But there are Herods in the world. And until God’s kingdom is fulfilled and the world gets sorted out by the one true judge, there always will be Herods in the world. We can let them intimidate us with threats of suffering and death, or we can be confident in who we are and what we are about, and get on with being who God has called us to be and doing the work that God has called us to do. That is where true peace comes from. 

Before I end, let us turn back to the Psalm for a moment this morning. The psalms always have a word for us, in just about every situation, and today is no different. Let’s say the first four verses together again shall we?

1 The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom then shall I fear? *
the Lord is the strength of my life;
of whom then shall I be afraid?

2 When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, *
it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who 
stumbled and fell.

3 Though an army should encamp against me, *
yet my heart shall not be afraid;

4 And though war should rise up against me, *
yet will I put my trust in him.

You will become the very thing you hate

Standard

Sermon for February 20th, 2022

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=MrGfB-5wMFM%3Fstart%3D1349

So first this morning a little bible refresher course:

Joseph was the son of the patriarch Jacob. He had eleven brothers who were extremely jealous of his relationship with their father. So jealous in fact, that they decided to get rid of him. First by throwing him down into a pit, and then by selling him as a slave to some traders headed down into Egypt. They didn’t exactly kill him, but they might as well have. They turned their backs on him and basically left him for dead. That is what they told their father, that he was dead. 

But Joseph doesn’t die. Through a number of circumstances he actually manages to prosper in Egypt. His ability to interpret dreams and look to what they may mean for the future eventually puts him in a position of great influence with Pharoah. Despite the horrible thing that happened to him in the past, Joseph is a very future-oriented person. And this orientation actually leads him to help save Egypt from famine.

And now Joseph is in a very unique position. He is a powerful man in Egypt. Egypt, through his own leadership, has stores of food set by. His brothers, the very brothers that abandoned him to slavery and death, have shown up on his doorstep begging for food. They don’t recognize Joseph, but he knows who they are. It is a scene right out of a prime-time television drama or a soap-opera. It would make a great musical. 

How many people who have been really hurt would love to be in Joseph’s position? He is in the prime position to get revenge on his brothers for what they did to him. They sold him into slavery. They left him for dead. Nobody would fault Joseph if he told his brothers to go to hell. It would seem like justice served. And you know, maybe it is a human instinct, but we all like to see people get what is coming to them from time to time. If we didn’t, television programs and movies would tend to end a whole lot differently. We like to see justice served. We want the bad guys to get it in the end. But that’s not what happens here. 

Why? Why does Joseph feed his brothers, reconcile with them and forgive them? Well I think it is because Joseph recognizes a few key things: the first is God’s power to turn any bad thing into a good thing. Human beings do terrible things all the time, and while God may never approve of the bad things we do, God always has the power to take that bad thing and make it work to serve some positive good. We see this happen all the time. In the wake of an immense tragedy or disaster, people band together and help one another and care for one another. In life we make bad decisions and wrong turns, but sometimes those wrong turns lead us to places where good things happen. Joseph’s brothers did a terrible thing to him, but God managed to make something wonderful come out of it. Joseph recognizes God’s power to transform our circumstances and to turn bad things into good things. 

The second thing that Joseph recognizes is that the future matters more than the past. He hasn’t forgotten what happened to him by any means. He hasn’t forgotten the past, but he isn’t living there. He is living in the future and focusing on the relationship that he could have with his brothers and their families. 

The third thing that Joseph recognizes is that if he turns his back on his brothers now that the circumstances have changed and he is in the position of power, if Joseph takes his revenge and abandons his brothers for dead, then he becomes just like them. Joseph has a choice to make: he can choose to be like his brothers, or he can choose to be different. He chooses to be different.

Here is a divine law: you can write this down and there is plenty of scripture to back this up. I could also stand here for days and give you one historical example of this law in action after another. If you allow yourself to hate someone or something, you condemn yourself to become them. You will become the very thing you hate. Be careful about who and what you hate in this world. If you let that emotion fester and grown within you, if you let hatred control your thoughts and actions, you are destined to become just like the thing you are reacting against. Watch for it. Abused people very often turn into abusers. Political extremists from the left and the right are sometimes very hard to tell apart, because they talk and act just like each other even though they are supposed to be polar opposites. Their mutual hatred turns them into the very thing they are reacting against. British historian David Starkey has what he calls “Starkey’s law of revolutions” and it is this: Revolutions reproduce the worst aspects of the regime they replace. Revolutions reproduce the worst aspects of the regime they replace. Hatred that is nursed over past wrongs and the thirst for revenge upon the wrong-doers leads to this perpetual cycle of people becoming the very thing that they supposedly hated. Political parties and regimes do this all the time. Individuals do it too. And when you point out a wrong that is being committed, the response you often get is: “well so-and-so did it to me first.” It’s only fair! They did it first. That is a child’s argument. That is essentially saying that if somebody did a bad thing to me, then I am free to do what I like in response. I am exempt from having to consider the moral implications of my own actions. It is a child’s argument, but it is very seductive. How often do we see supposed adults making that very same argument?

A number of us are reading Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’s book on morality right now. It is a superb book, and one of the chapters we discussed this week was on the idea of victimhood. Rabbi Sacks discusses how a number of people managed to survive the holocaust and rebuild their lives afterwards. One survivor comments that “there is a difference between victimization and victimhood. All of us are likely to be victimized at some stage. We will suffer abuse, injury, ill fortune or failure. We live exposed to forces beyond our control. Victimization comes from the outside. But victimhood comes from the inside. No one can make you a victim but you. We develop a particular kind of mindset, a way of thinking and being that is rigid, blaming, pessimistic, stuck in the past, unforgiving, punitive and without healthy limits or boundaries. We become our own jailors.”

Rabbi Sacks adds that “there is a fateful difference between the two. I can’t change the past. But I can change the future. Looking only back, I will see myself as an object acted on by forces largely beyond my control. Looking forward, I see myself as a subject, a choosing moral agent, deciding which path to take from here to where I eventually want to be.”

You cannot control what other people do to you. You cannot choose how other people behave. You can however, choose how to respond to them. You have control over your response. You can choose to love your enemies. You can choose to do good to those that hate you. You can bless those who curse you. You can pray for those who abuse you. These aren’t just nice things to do for others. They are key to not becoming the very thing you hate. If you want a better future, then don’t let the past and past hurts dictate your thoughts and actions. Joseph has not forgotten the past, but he isn’t letting it control him or dictate his future. He has a choice to make. Does he want to be like his brothers or not?

From people who need something into people who have something.

Standard

Sermon for February 6th, 2022. Annual Meeting Sunday

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=APiWFW-iawk%3Fstart%3D1291

“Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing.” 

This is how Simon Peter first responds to Jesus when Jesus tells him to go fishing again. He basically says: “well, what do you think I have been doing all this time?” Peter is tired, hungry, probably cold, and then the man who has been telling the crowds “Come to me all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest,” that same man is now telling him that he needs to row out from shore, go back to work, and drop his nets again. So much for rest.

You know, I think it is important when we are talking about Andrew and Peter and James and John to remember that when we talk about them as fishermen, we aren’t talking about a bunch of weekend anglers that just want to have some beers on the lake with their buddies in their free time. This is their livelihood. Empty nets mean empty pockets. Those fish didn’t just represent something to toss in the frying pan for supper. The fish was food, but it was also their security. It was their healthcare, it was their retirement, it was the mortgage, it was their children’s tuition. That empty net means more to Peter than you think. Peter needs fish. 

And maybe it is because Peter so desperately needs fish that he is willing to go out again when Jesus tells him to. Maybe he figures what else does he have to lose. He’s tired now, he’ll be more tired in a couple hours. Maybe it’s worth trusting Jesus, or at least giving him a chance. So Peter says, “alright, if you say so, I will do it. Let’s give it a shot.” They row out from shore, let down their nets, and well…you know what happens. They catch more fish than they know what to do with. Peter needs help getting the net full of fish into the boat. 

And Peter is so stunned. He can’t imagine why this is happening to him. He’s just an average working man. He’s not special. And he knows that he’s a sinner. He’s not some holy roller that sits in the synagogue all day reading the holy books. He doesn’t deserve this blessing. He’s not worthy of it. But Jesus blesses him anyways and it completely changes his life. Completely changes it. There is a transformation that happens in Peter in this gospel passage and I want you to watch for it because it would be easy to miss it. It’s critically important though.

In the beginning of this gospel passage Peter is a man who needs something. He needs fish, that is his pressing concern. Actually Peter probably needs many things, he needs fish, but he also needs rest, he needs food, he’s aware that he’s a sinner so he also needs forgiveness, he needs some sense of holiness or righteousness or relationship with God, he knows that that is missing in his life too. Peter is a man in need. He starts out as a man who needs something, and then he has this encounter with Jesus. He takes a chance on Jesus even though he is tired and worn out. He decides to trust him and not only is he blessed with the fish that he had spent all night looking for, watch what happens when he gets to shore: when Peter and James and John get to shore they leave everything behind and follow Jesus. Everything, the fish, the boats, the nets, they leave all that behind to become fishers of men. After Peter has this encounter with Jesus, suddenly those things that he thought he needed don’t seem so important anymore. Peter started out as a man who needs something, but he has been transformed into a man who has something. He has Jesus. He has a relationship with God. He has grace. He has forgiveness. He has a message about God’s miraculous power, and Peter hasn’t even seen the empty tomb yet. The really stunning earth-shaking miracles haven’t even happened yet, but Peter has already been transformed by meeting Jesus and trusting him. 

He has been transformed from a man who needs something to a man who has something. That is the difference between being a fisher of fish and a fisher of men. When you are a fisher of fish, you are catching something to keep. It is for your own profit or your own empty stomach. It is something you need. But when you are a fisher of men, you don’t do it for your own benefit, you do it for theirs. You aren’t getting something, you are giving something away. You have something they need. You are giving people Jesus. You are giving them a relationship with God and forgiveness and grace and everything that comes with that relationship, including the promise and hope of eternal life. To be a fisher of men is not about catching something that you need, it is about knowing that you have something that others need and being willing to share it with them. That is why Peter can walk away from his boat and all the fish at the end of this gospel: Jesus has changed him from a man who needs something into a man who has something, and what Peter has now is more precious than all the fish in the lake, because Peter will never have less of Jesus by sharing him with others. God’s grace works differently than human economies: with God’s grace the more you give it away, the more you get back in return. 

That is the transformative power of meeting Jesus. It isn’t just that Jesus can fill your nets with fish. Obviously, Jesus has the power to do that. Jesus can and will see to your needs, but the more amazing thing is his power to completely reprioritize your life to the point where the things you thought you needed now seem insignificant and you can walk away from them or not focus on them. Jesus can transform us from people who need something, to people who have something. People who know they have something of immense value that the world needs. People who have something that has the power to change, and yes even save, lives. That is what happens when you really meet Jesus.

Every week we come here to meet Jesus. We meet Jesus in baptism, we meet Jesus in the proclamation of Holy Scripture and in listening to his teachings, and we meet Jesus in the sacrament of Holy Communion where we are regularly fed and nourished by his divine life. We meet Jesus in the place in so many ways, through the sacraments most fully, but also in music, in prayer, in art, and even (as hard as it may be to believe) we meet Jesus in each other. And you know what, that meeting should change us. We come here every week as a people who need something: people who need guidance, people who need forgiveness, people who need courage or hope. And when we walk back out those doors, we should be walking out as people who have something. We should be walking out as people who have met Jesus once again. As people who know that we have something, and have something that the rest of the world needs. And the best thing of all, it is something we can give away and never have less of. That is what it means to be a fisher of men. It is having something of immeasurable value that you can give to others.

So often when we talk about Church growth and evangelism and “catching” new Christians or new parishioners, we think about it in terms of the benefit that it will be to us, or our needs as a parish community. We think about it like we think about catching fish for supper. It’s human. We all do it. Every parish does it. You’re here five minutes and we are already measuring you for a cassock and trying to convince you to serve on the vestry. It is so easy for us to become so focused on what we need, or what we think we need, that we forget or lose sight of what we have. And that is never more true than when we are talking about parish finances. You’ve probably already seen our budget for 2022, if not you will at the meeting later. I’m not going to lie to you, it’s a little scary. Not so much for this year, but five or ten years down the road and the loss of five or ten tithers or faithful givers and we could eventually be faced with some very hard decisions, as many, many churches already have. Do I worry about that? Of course I do. I have a lot of sympathy with Peter at the beginning of this gospel; sometimes it feels like we fish and fish and fish and at the end of the day still have an empty net. It is so easy when you have needs that you become so focused on them that that is all that you see. And then evangelism becomes about balancing the budget, you worry about getting new people to help us pay the bills and you start to think that we need new people, more than they need what we have. And that is where we fail. Peter and James and John, they knew what a treasure they had. They knew just how transformative an encounter with Jesus can be, and if we don’t know it we will never really grow this church. Certainly not the way that they did. 

Because the truth is that we have something that other people need. We have grace; we have hope; we have an intimate relationship with God; we have Jesus. We need to know that and know it deep down. Now I’m not suggesting that you need to walk up to every person on the street and say “you need Jesus” although some days I am tempted, but I am suggesting that when you leave here every week you should do so as someone who has just been given something that the world needs and is ready to share it with them. People need Jesus and we’ve got him. We may not have a monopoly on him, other churches may have him too, but we’ve got him. He is in the boat with us. We’ve got a lot of things going for us as a church and I could stand up here and brag all morning about the choir or the kids, or any number of things that we do well, but at the end of the day what matters most is that this is a place where people meet Jesus. That is the most precious thing on earth. That is more important than anything we might need, or think that we need. Because Jesus has the power to transform us from people who need something into people who have something. So let’s let him do that. We have something that the world needs; we have a blessing to share with others. That is the real difference between fishing for fish and fishing for me: When you are fishing for fish it is the one who is fishing that has the most to gain, but when you are fishing for men, the one who stands to get the biggest blessing is the one who is caught.

Be a blessing from God

Standard

Sermon for January 30th, 2022

Readings:

In this morning’s gospel passage Jesus is at the very beginning of his ministry. He was just baptized by John in the river Jordan, and you may recall that immediately after his baptism he spent forty days in the desert being tempted by Satan. Jesus has now returned from the desert, and he has come back to his hometown of Nazareth to begin his ministry in earnest. It is a sabbath day, and Jesus is in the synagogue and he chooses to read a passage of scripture and comment on it. But Jesus quickly encounters a problem that many of us preachers face: his words make people want to kill him. 

In order to really understand this morning’s gospel passage though, and why people get so mad at Jesus, we need to back up a few verses and hear the text that Jesus was preaching from. 

16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

18 ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
        to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
    and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to let the oppressed go free,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.’

20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’ 22

Now you may wonder, what’s the big deal about that scripture? It’s a lovely scripture and we often hear it read at funerals. Why do people get so angry?

Well at first they don’t. At first when Jesus says that this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing, people smile and nod their heads and say “oh, well isn’t that nice, God is going to send us someone who is going to fix all our problems.” They are all very pleased with what Jesus has to say until he explains it a bit more. You see, despite the fact that Jesus is just beginning his ministry, apparently he has already performed some miracles, because people have heard that he has done some amazing things at Capernaum, which is the lakeside town down the road. People are no doubt hoping that he will work a few miracles there. Afterall, he is their hometown boy, why shouldn’t he favor them with some miracles? 

But Jesus crushes their expectations. He reminds them of two other prophets Elijah and Elisha, who both performed miracles, not for their own people, but for foreigners. Jesus talked about the fact that God wants to bless other people, and people were so filled with rage, that they tried to kill him. Now Jesus was able to slip away, so this isn’t the end of his story, but had it been up to the mob it would have been. 

Here is the thing: people really love it when you tell them that God wants to bless them. People eat that up. I could stand here and talk about Jesus wanting us to have life and have it in abundance; I could talk about all the blessings of heaven; I could talk about answered prayers; I could talk about the amazing grace that God gives us every day through the forgiveness of sins, and through sharing in his life through baptism and communion; I could talk about all that and you will all nod in agreement and smile. You won’t shout out “amens” because we aren’t that kind of church, but you would approve of my words nonetheless. 

But when a preacher gets up and starts talking about how God wants to bless other folks…well that’s a different story. Especially if the preacher has the audacity to say that God wants YOU to go and bless someone else. To be fair, you might not try to kill me, but you probably won’t be sending me a muffin basket to congratulate me on delivering such a fine sermon. Now part of this is human nature. Pretty much all of us have some pain and misery in our lives. It doesn’t matter if you are dirt poor or rich as Croesus; everybody suffers in some way in this life. Physical pain, emotional pain, anxiety, fear….we all have it. It may come in different forms depending on our circumstances, but we all have it. And all of us, every one of us are in need of God’s grace. We all want to be blessed by God in some way. If you didn’t want to have a relationship with God, I would venture to say that you wouldn’t be here this morning, or wouldn’t be watching. 

But this is where human nature rubs up against divine nature. Because divine nature is self-giving. God’s nature is to love and to bless; to give willingly and freely. That is the love that Paul is talking about in his letter to the Corinthians. So often we hear that passage read at weddings, but the love Paul is talking about isn’t romantic love or even lust. The word for love that Paul is using here is caritas, which is where our word charity comes from. In fact in the King James Version this word is translated as charity. And it doesn’t mean slipping a few dollars begrudgingly into the poor box, it means having a love for others that is self-giving and that is focused on their well-being and not your own. As Paul says, even if he gave away all his money and possessions, if he is doing it so that he may boast, and not actually for the love of someone else, then it really doesn’t mean the same thing. 

Now we are all sinners, and we are all going to be a bit self-centered from time to time. That is a part of our problem as a human race; that is a part of why there is so much suffering and strife in the world. But we are also called by Jesus to share in his divine life, which we know to be a life of self-giving love. So here is my advice: if you are suffering, or in pain, or have stuff going on in your life; if you are in need of a blessing from God…well first off pray for it, make your needs known to God because God can fix things that you can’t, and then go out and be a blessing to someone else. Go and bless someone else. Bless someone who can’t pay you back or do anything for you. Bless someone who you think doesn’t deserve it. Get your mind off of your own needs for a while and serve someone else. God can and will bless you, but you need to let God use you, like God used the prophets of old to be a blessing to others. If you really want to get a blessing from God, learn how to be a blessing from God.

God is listening

Standard

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=0AkRFPnC45Q%3Fstart%3D1213

I’m going to let you all in on a little secret. Most of you all know that I pray for a living right? The most important part of my job here is praying. Not fundraising; not managing the building, not managing events. I have to do those things from time to time, but my real job is prayer. That really is what the church pays me for. I do it all the time. In formal ways and in informal ways. Sometimes it is lighting candles or saying the rosary. Sometimes it is saying the daily office or saying mass. Sometimes it is just throwing up my hands to God and saying “Oh Lord, You know!” 

That’s not really the secret. Most of you probably know that. Here is the thing I don’t often talk about: almost each and every time I pray there is a little voice in my head that says: why are you doing this? Do you think this is really going to make a difference? Do you think anyone is listening? Do you really think this matters? 

If you are a person of prayer, maybe you have heard that little voice before. Sometimes the voice is very faint; sometimes the voice screams in your ear. Either way the message is usually the same: God isn’t listening. God doesn’t care. God isn’t there.

I pray for a living; my life is dedicated to it, and I have seen prayers answered in ways that would blow your minds. I could tell stories that no one in here would believe. I know prayer works; I have seen it work…and yet, even for me…that voice is still there. Maybe it is there for you too. 

God dwells in a realm or a kingdom that we cannot always see with our eyes. I am a firm believer that there are physical realities that we can see, feel and touch in this world, and there are spiritual realities that really belong to God’s kingdom, that are not always visible to us, but are no less real. The kingdom of God and the Kingdom of this world, they exist side by side, sometimes they even connect, but we don’t always see it or recognize it. We need to be reminded regularly that although we can’t always see it, God’s kingdom is there. God is there, even though we can’t always see him or touch him. And God is listening, even when it doesn’t seem like he is talking back to us. We need to be reminded of this all the time, I need to be reminded all the time, otherwise…that other little voice wins. And I think we all know who that other little voice belongs to.

“Do not fear, for I am with you”

The Prophet Isaiah comforts God’s people with these words. Do not fear, for I am with you. Earlier he says, “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you. And through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.” 

I am with you, God tells his people living in exile. I am with you.

I love this passage from Isaiah, because I think that it is a beautiful reminder that although we may not always see God clearly working in our lives, nonetheless he is there. God is with us in struggles, in exile, in suffering, and in joy, and in feasting and celebration. God is with us when times and good; God is with us when times are bad. God is always with us, God hears our prayers, God always sees us; the problem is that we don’t always see him. Sometimes we need a little help seeming him. Sometimes we need to be reminded that the physical world we live in and the spiritual world of God’s kingdom are not as far apart as we often imagine. In fact, sometimes those two worlds collide.

More than anything else, the celebration of Our Lord’s incarnation is a celebration of the supreme moment when the kingdom of God and the kingdom of this world collided. Jesus, who was fully God and fully human, is the living point of connection between the invisible spiritual world of God and the visible, physical world of God’s creation. In Jesus those two become one, and he is the ultimate reminder that this God we are praying to isn’t some distant, disinterested spiritual force, but a living reality in our very lives, and yes, even in our physical bodies. 

So much of the time we can’t see the connection between the spiritual world and the physical world. Sometimes we think that they are just two completely separate planes of existence; and sometimes we may have to wrestle with that voice that is always trying to convince us that the spiritual world doesn’t exist at all…that no one is listening when we pray. 

But then there are moments when the two worlds collide and the connection between God’s kingdom and this world is made perfectly clear to us and we are given signs and symbols that God is here. God is with us. And God is listening. 

When Jesus stepped into those waters of the river Jordan, knelt down and was baptized by John, people saw the most extraordinary thing. It was like the heavens were opened, or the veil that always separates the visible world from the invisible world was torn in two and for a moment they could see that God’s kingdom and the earthly kingdom were colliding in Jesus Christ. The voice they heard then was not that shrill, irritating voice of the deceiver, trying to convince them that this wasn’t happening and God wasn’t real. The voice that they heard then was the bold voice of God saying: this is my son. This is my joy. Here our two worlds are united. Although Jesus was conceived as God’s son and didn’t become God’s son at his baptism, for those standing around witnessing this event, this act was a moment of epiphany when they recognized that the two worlds had collided. God’s kingdom was not as far away as they thought, and maybe, just maybe, God had been listening to their prayers all along. Maybe God was really going to send a messiah to save them. Through the Holy Spirit, and through the water and the voice, God made it clear that he is living in our world. I guess the question for us is: are we living in his?

Baptism, for Christians, is not just a rite of initiation. It’s not waterboarding or hazing, or just a sweet thing to do with babies. Baptism is a moment when God’s world and our world collide. In Jesus’s baptism people recognized that the veil between God’s kingdom and our kingdom was torn in two, that they were no longer completely separate but one in Jesus Christ. And through our baptism as Christians we become a part of that union too. The water of baptism is a symbol to us that we are not just citizens of a visible, material world, but are a full part of a universe far more profound and mysterious. Baptism reminds us that we don’t just live in this world of toil and sin and strife and death, but also have a citizenship in God’s heavenly kingdom where prayers get answered and the dead are raised to new life. 

In Baptism, in Communion, in the other sacraments of the church, and in many other ways, God’s world and this world collide and for a moment we recognize and remember that we are not alone. God really is with us. God really does listen. Hold on to those moments, because those moments are real and true. 

That other little voice…the one we all hear from time to time, telling us that God isn’t real and prayer doesn’t work, that is the voice of a liar. Literally a damned liar, so my professional advice, as someone who prays for a living, is don’t listen to it. God is with us, and if you will be attentive to the signs and symbols around you, you will see God’s presence in the post amazing ways. So keep praying. God IS listening. 

He gave power to become children of God

Standard

Sermon for the First Sunday after Christmas

December 26th, 2021

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=ZGhmVO0S_os%3Fstart%3D661

We have a priest friend, who several years back adopted two little boys. And a couple years ago, right before the pandemic began I believe, our friend decided to take his sons on a trip to the Holy Land. This priest has a strong attachment to and love for the Holy Land, much like Keith and I do, so he wanted to share that experience with his sons.

Well naturally one of the stops on his trip was Bethlehem, and he managed to catch this picture of his boys there which now adorns his Facebook page. Every time I see this picture all sorts of emotions well up inside me. You see, the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem sits on top of a cave that is traditionally recognized as the birthplace of Jesus. And in this picture my friend’s two boys are in the little cave that sits underneath the Church, and they are both sitting underneath the altar and looking down at and touching the silver star on the rock that marks the place where Jesus was born. 

It’s a stunning photograph, because it just says so much. Now my friend has said that what you don’t hear when you look at the picture is their running commentary in the background: “Where’s the barn? Are there any Oxen here? Where’s the manger? Where’s Momma Mary?” Kids are bound to be full of questions, but their questions were really just a way of trying to connect the story that they knew to their life in that moment. I think they were making a connection between Jesus’s story and their own story. What an amazing thing to be able to take children to one of the holiest places on earth and to do so while they are still at the age where they are open to mystery and wonder. Yes, I am envious, and yes, it is something I hope to do with my own kids someday. 

Two little children touching the place where Jesus was born. His story, which they knew, was now a part of their story. This sacred place was a part of their own history. It was a part of their family story. And this family story that they were a part of, had nothing to do with any accidents of genetics or biology; it was a family created by God, not by man.

On Christmas Eve we were told the Christmas story according to the Gospel of Luke, but at the very end of the service before we all departed we heard John tell his version of Jesus’s backstory. It is part of the same gospel we just heard this morning. And John begins Jesus’s story not with his birth in the manger, but with the birth of all creation. John wants you to understand that this Jesus that he is going to tell you about, isn’t just a simple man living at a time in history. This is the God of all creation that has come to live among us. John wants you to understand that this story is much more profound than you realize, but he also wants you to see that it is much more personal. He isn’t just talking about a man named Jesus, he is talking about the Most High God; He isn’t just talking about a man named Jesus; he’s talking about you and me. This story is also about you. This is your family history too.

You see John, the writer of this gospel, knows something about how it feels to be adopted into Jesus’s family. When John, who is often referred to as the disciple whom Jesus loved, or the beloved disciple, when he was standing next to Mary at the foot of Jesus’s cross when he was crucified, Jesus said to him “behold thy mother.” And he said to her “behold thy son.” Mary would be John’s momma now too, and he would be her son. John understood better than any of us how Jesus invites us to be a part of his family. Mary becomes our Mother; God becomes our Father. We are adopted as children of God. So no matter who we are, or where we are from, if we are Christians, then his story is a part of our story. 

Our secular Christmas celebrations are often very focused on the families we are born into and time spent with blood relations. But the Christian story isn’t about that at all. The Holy Family isn’t your standard Mother, Father and Child. This family wasn’t created by genetics, it was created by God. And likewise the only blood that binds the Christian family together is the blood of Jesus. This isn’t a family we are born into; it is a family we are reborn into. All of us. As Christians, we recognize that it isn’t genetics that make us a family, it is a story. A common story. And if Jesus’s story isn’t a part of your story, it can be. That is what the Church is here to proclaim.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

You know, I do my best not to project my emotions onto God, but when I look at my friend’s picture of his two little boys playing over the star of Bethlehem, I can’t help but imagine the joy that Jesus must feel whenever a child of any age discovers that his story is a part of their story. Whenever that happens, the Holy Family, Jesus’s family, gets a little bit bigger.

This Happened

Standard

Sermon for Christmas Eve 2021

Readings:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=dJzmKB1DAls%3Fstart%3D1640

Long ago, but really not so very long ago, a young woman living in a village in the hill country of Northern Palestine, went to gather water at the well for her family. She was a teenager really, by our modern standards we would expect her to be concerning herself with school work or to be excited about hanging out with her friends at the prom, but in the time that she lived she was marrying age. And indeed, this young woman was engaged to be married, although the ceremony had not happened yet, and she was still living at home with her family. And while she was gathering water at the well, this young woman had the most frightening encounter: this being appeared to her, as if out of nowhere, and greeted her; called her by name “Mary.” It told her not to be afraid. She wondered what on earth was happening, but the more the angel spoke, the stranger the encounter became. 

The angel told her that she was favored in God’s eyes, and that she would bear a child that would become a king. But not just any king, a king that will be called the son of the Most High and that would reign over an everlasting kingdom. A king greater than David. A ruler mightier than the Roman emperor who controlled much of the world at the time. Of course, Mary knew that this was ridiculous. She was young, but she wasn’t naïve to the ways of the world. She knew where babies come from. And she knew that at that point she had been untouched by her intended Joseph, at least in that way. But Mary also knew God. She had been brought up hearing the stories of amazing things that God had done for her ancestors: parting the sea, feeding people in the desert, saving them time and again. Mary knew that from time to time this God sends messengers to his people: angels that sometimes look a lot like human beings. Maybe that is what this was. Maybe this story was true. Maybe God was calling her to do this amazing thing. So Mary’s faith moves her to say “Yes, Lord.” Let your will be done. She could have said “no,” but she didn’t. She said yes.

This story of an encounter with an angel at the well, was probably difficult for even Mary to believe, and it had happened to her, her fiancé Joseph understandably would have had a harder time with it. He was clearly a good, honest man, who had love for this young woman even though he didn’t really know her that well yet. So he must have been terribly hurt when she told him this story, hurt because he would have assumed that she had betrayed him and was now lying to him to cover up the trespass. Still his goodness prevailed. He decided to end the engagement quietly rather than publicly shame Mary, which he easily could have done. That is, until he had a dream too. Joseph was also visited by a strange being, only for him it was in a dream and not standing beside the village well. And this being, this angel told Joseph something similar. Mary was telling the truth, as hard as it was for him to believe, this was the truth. 

So Joseph weds Mary, and most of the world just looks at them as an average new couple. Only a few people know that there is more to their story. Of course, that pesky Roman emperor gets in the way. He wants a census of this conquered territory for tax purposes. I guess that is just what you do when you take over a country, you take a census to see how much you now own; William the Conqueror did it when he invaded England in 1066, so why wouldn’t Augustus do it a thousand years earlier? So Mary and Joseph had to travel to Joseph’s ancestral home at a most inconvenient time: when she was about 9 months pregnant. Now obviously I have never been pregnant, but I have been around plenty of pregnant women, and they always need to use the restroom. I can’t imagine that riding a donkey while 9 months pregnant was a very pleasant experience for either Mary or Joseph.  But they did it. And when they finally got to their destination: the village of Bethlehem a few miles South of Jerusalem, they ended up bedding down for the night in a cave where some of the animals were being stabled. Now this probably wasn’t all that unusual of a thing. There would have been a lot of visitors in Bethlehem, it wasn’t a large village, and there wouldn’t have been much room inside the inner rooms of these houses for guests to stay. There were probably other people sleeping under similar conditions that night. At least this stable/cave was warm and dry with plenty of fresh straw to rest on. It does get cold in Bethlehem you know, especially at night. I have pictures of friends playing in the snow there. 

So there, in a little cave in the Bethlehem hillside, Mary gives birth to her child. A little boy. There was a stone trough in the corner of the cave where the animals were fed. The French used to call this type of feeding trough a mangier, but in English we simplified it to manger. A vessel that animals are fed from. That would have to serve as a bassinet. The baby was swaddled snuggly in cloth to help him feel safe and warm. Maybe Mary had some help with this. I hope she had some help. The scripture doesn’t say. We assume Joseph was there with her, but maybe some of the local midwives joined together to help Mary through it. It seems reasonable. Of course, they wouldn’t know just yet what was really happening. It would have looked like just another ordinary birth to them. 

But then a few shepherds came in from out in the field. Undoubtedly, anyone helping Mary would have thought: go away! This is just another birth. Women have babies all the time. She needs rest now. Why are you bothering this poor woman? But the shepherds have a strange tale to tell. While watching their sheep they had this mysterious vision, and in this vision this being told them that the Messiah, the long-awaited saviour had been born. They even heard angels and other heavenly beings singing a song of praise to God. That’s what led them here. Bethlehem was a little village, it wouldn’t have taken them long to find out who just had a baby and where. Everyone in town would have known, only most of them would have assumed that this was just an ordinary birth and an ordinary child. The shepherds told people what they had seen an heard, and many were amazed by it, but I wonder how many truly believed the story they were told. 

Eventually, a little later some other visitors show up: strange men from the East. Some people call them magicians, some call them prophets, some even call them Kings, but what is clear is that they aren’t from here. They aren’t even Jewish, and yet they claim to have been led to this place by a different heavenly being, a star. A sign for them that something remarkable had taken place. They present gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Odd gifts for a baby. You can’t put those on a BuyBuyBaby registry. I know, I’ve tried. But that’s what they brought. Symbolic gifts that are signs that this baby isn’t just any baby. 

When the shepherds have seen the little child they go home. They go home praising God, but they go home. When the wise men have offered their gifts they go home. But Joseph and Mary can’t go home. Another angel had warned Joseph that King Herod wanted the child dead. No big surprise. If this child turns out to be what these angels say he is, then he will turn the world upside down. Herod doesn’t want his world turned upside down. He wants to eliminate this child. So Joseph and Mary take their little baby and escape to Egypt, longing for the day when it safe for them to return home, and pondering in their hearts everything that they have witnessed and experienced. 

This is the story we tell tonight. The story of the birth of Christ. The story of Christmas. There are countless reasons why you shouldn’t believe this story we tell tonight. Undoubtedly people have pointed some of them out to you. Every year people trot out some of the same tired old arguments as to why you shouldn’t believe this story. People will say that virgins don’t have babies, as if Mary didn’t already know that. They will say that shepherds aren’t out in the fields at winter time, but I’ve got news for you: they are, I’ve seen them. People will say that Christmas is just a holiday that we stole from the pagans, even though there’s actually no real evidence to support that. People think they are being informed, educated, rational and clever, but they are really just looking for reasons NOT to believe. Because believing this story is a threat. Herod may be dead and gone, but the world is still filled with people that want to make the baby Jesus go away. He’s still a threat. The easiest way to neutralize the threat is just to kill the story. Make it a fable. Make it fiction. Make it a safe, sweet little fairy tale, that nobody actually believes. 

But we aren’t here to do that tonight. We are here to accept the threat that Jesus and the story of his birth presents to our lives. The threat is this: that we aren’t in control that God is real and God has power to do things that defy our logic and understanding that the world is more complex and mysterious than we sometimes imagine; that we don’t know everything; that we don’t have every answer. That is the threat. The threat is that truth, real truth, is sometimes completely improbable, unexpected and difficult to believe. If this child truly is the son of God, then his story, his entire story, is going to be a challenge to us. It’s going to be a threat. But as Christians, as believers, it is a threat and a challenge that we accept. 

We are here tonight to say, with all of the glory and pageantry and beauty and courage that we can muster, we are here to say something that is both extremely simple and unimaginable profound: this story, which you probably know very well and which the world still doesn’t want you to actually believe, this story is true. This happened.