"Moving toward Christmas: Looking Ahead" Advent 3 Sermon

Moving toward Christmas: Looking Ahead

Advent 3 (NL3)

December 16, 2012

Isaiah 61.1-11

I learned about the tragic school shooting at Sandy Hook when I logged onto Facebook on Friday. I knew something was wrong by some of the terse entries of some of my friends, and as I scrolled through the feeds, I came across a link to an article from Minnesota Public Radio. I don’t read a lot of news accounts about events such as this because I know the information is sketchy and will change with time, but I did learn that a lot of people were killed, most of whom were children. Embedded in the article was a video of President Obama’s statement. Again, I don’t normally watch such things, but it was short and I was curious what the President would say. Like me, he was reacting with sadness and from the point of view of the father of two daughters. My response was compounded by the fact that both of our daughters are also teachers. However, what struck me the most was the President’s closing words, that it was now time to “bind up the brokenhearted and give comfort to the mourning,” words straight from today’s reading.

So, the reading from Isaiah 61 comes at the right time in so many ways, though it seems like an odd place to end our run through the Old Testament that we began in September. Next week we shift to the story of Jesus as found in the New Testament gospel of Luke. Yet, aside from the fact that we’ll hear some of these words on Jesus’ lips in a few weeks, we are also reminded that the writings of the prophet we call Isaiah span over three centuries, more than one person could write. These words from chapter 61 were proclaimed to the Jews who had returned from the Babylonian exile and were trying to rebuild their homes, the temple, and their lives. Their situation was, as Rolf Jacobson notes, that “things weren’t as good as they hoped, and they weren’t as good as God hoped.”

Isaiah brings much-needed good news to people who are having a hard time looking ahead. He reminds them that our God is a God who builds up and restores, who makes all things new. In so doing, he points out that God pays special attention to those who need hope the most, the captives, the oppressed, the brokenhearted, the imprisoned, and those who mourn. Indeed, God comes to all of us and meets us in the places of our deepest needs, but he comes to these hurting ones especially. Isaiah sustains us with a vision of what life looks like on the other side of our darkest, most difficult journeys.

I asked a friend of mine who has been recently divorced which kind of people were most helpful as she was going through it. She said that one of the groups who was the most helpful were those who have gone through it and come out the other side. These people did not sugarcoat the difficulty of the journey, but still gave words of encouragement to her that she would make it through, that she would come out the other side and be okay. They were able to tell her that what she was going through was normal, but it would get better. In other words, they were “Isaiah” to her, bringing words of comfort, renewal, and hope.

There is a missional sense to God’s story in general and to this text from Isaiah in particular. Being missional means that you and I are called to bear witness to what God is doing in the world and join in the work. Like the Jews—who were set aside by God as God’s chosen people, not for any special favors but rather to be a light to the rest of the world—we are a people blessed by God to bring blessing to others. Most importantly, we are to be signs and bearers of hope to those who can’t see the end of the darkest of journeys.

For many years there has been a Kansas City businessman who anonymously hands out $100,000 each Christmas around the country $100 at a time, most recently in New York and New Jersey. To one such couple he said, “You are not alone; God bless.” That’s the message of Isaiah and it is also Jesus’ message, the one who took on human flesh to give us hope in the midst of despair. It’s the message of St. Lucia, whom we also remember today, that the light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. If you are in a place where you can’t see the other side, know that you are not alone and God is with you. If not, and know someone who is, find a way to bring Isaiah’s good news to them in some way. We may not be able to see it from here, but we are looking ahead to being in the place of God’s promise. Amen.

"Moving toward Christmas: Moved by the Spirit" Sermon Advent 2

Moving toward Christmas: Moved by the Spirit

Advent 2

December 9, 2012

Joel 2.12-13, 28-29

A man bought a mule that the previous owner guaranteed would do whatever he said. All he had to do was whisper in its ear. However, when the man whispered in the mule’s ear as instructed, the mule didn’t obey. Upon returning the mule to the owner with this complaint, the owner picked up a 2x4, whacked the mule in the head, and declared to the man, “First, you have to get his attention.” The Jews living around Jerusalem in the time of Joel believe that God has whacked them in the head big time and has certainly gotten their attention, but with a devastating swarm of locusts instead of a 2x4.

Can we set aside for today the question of whether God brings disasters on people or communities? I don’t believe God does that, but rather works in, with, and through disasters for his purposes. But the point of our reading is that the Jews believed that God was getting their attention and not just through a plague of locusts that had destroyed virtually everything in its path, but also through another even larger threat. It’s as if you have been wiped out by Hurricane Sandy and then you have the “fiscal cliff,” a cancer diagnosis, the breakup of a marriage, or the imminent death of a loved-one hanging over you as well.

However, Joel’s message is not all doom and gloom. Remember that whenever we read the prophets, if there is judgment there is also hope. If there is demand there is also promise. Joel reminds the people that when you don’t know where to turn, turn and return to the Lord your God. How do we do this? Joel says we are “to rend [our] hearts,” returning “with all [our] heart.” In other words, we are to open our hearts to God and what God is doing in our lives. Why should we do this? We open our hearts to God because, as Joel says, God is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.”

We also do it because our priorities get mixed up and we get sidetracked on our journey of faith. Opening our hearts to God and what God is doing is hard because they are inundated with all sorts of stuff. We end up being imprisoned to all of our gadgets and toys rather than enjoying their blessings. It’s like a group of friends who are gathered together, but don’t talk to each other because they are busy texting somebody else. We do the same thing with God, ignoring our relationship with God because we are getting so caught up in other things. Bad as they are, I don’t think the things we call sin are the worst sins. I think the greatest sin is indifference. We ignore God and his desire for relationship with us, and doing so, become indifferent in injustice as well.
We are in the season of Advent, a time of preparation for the celebration of Jesus’ birth. Too often, our preparations take us away from God rather than closer. I find myself rushing through things like sending Christmas cards that should be meaningful; it’s just something to get done. Today is the second Sunday of Advent, a day typically given over to the John the Baptist, the one who prepared the people for the first coming of Jesus. John’s message of preparation was very similar to Joel’s: repent, or turn around and go the other way, for the kingdom of God is at hand. Advent is a time for us to remember, as if we can forget, but do anyway, that we need a savior. However, Advent is also a time to remember that God has promised to give us one as well.

Advent is both invitation and promise, an invitation to get back on track with our relationship with God and a promise that God will not only take us back but do some amazing things in our lives. For God has poured out his Spirit on all flesh, anyone and everyone, making a direct relationship with God not only possible, but guaranteed. All of this is through Jesus Immanuel, God with Us. We are invited to turn and return today and, moved by the spirit, we are challenged to ask how our preparations for Christmas open up our hearts to what God wants to do in, with, and through our lives. For me, I’m not going to rush the Christmas card thing, taking a bit more time to think about those people and asking God to bless them. So, return to the Lord your God, with all your hearts, for God is gracious and merciful, abounding in steadfast love, longing to welcome you home. Amen.

Moving towrd Christmas: From the Depths" Sermon for Advent 1

From the Depths

Advent 1

December 2, 2012

Daniel 6.6-27

Is it just me, or is it a fact of the life that the more you are in a hurry the slower you’ll get there? Perhaps a corollary of this truth is that the more you want something the slower the time goes. I think that there’s a fine line between anticipation and anxiety, often exacerbated by impatience. Today we begin the season of Advent, the period leading up to our celebration of Christ’s birth, and the line between anticipation and anxiety might be blurred. I wonder about our reactions as we entered worship today. Some of us may ooh and ah over the decorations. Maybe some of us feel a heightened excitement and anticipation. But some may also feel some anxiety over what needs to be done: shopping, Christmas cards, baking, etc. Finally, some may feel sadness because one of more of our loved ones won’t be celebrating Christmas with us this year.

Wherever we are, and it’s possible to be in several places at once, we may find ourselves both on this journey toward Christmas yet stuck in a place that may or may not be of our choosing. Daniel finds himself in just such a situation, on a journey of faith, both in a place of his choosing and not in a place of his choosing. On a recent episode of NCIS: Los Angeles, Hetty, the head the LA office, was asked if she regretted killing someone earlier in her career as a Federal agent. After noting that the death of one person saved many lives she added, “I didn’t choose this life, it chose me.” One has to make choices in a life that chooses us.

The book of Daniel is set in a much earlier time than it was written. It was written about a century and a half before Jesus walked the earth, during a time that the Jews were being persecuted by the Greeks. But it was set about three and a half centuries earlier during a time when the Jews were exiled in Babylon. It was written to encourage Jews as they struggled with how to live as Jews while living under an occupying government. When the Persians defeated the Babylonians, Jews who had been exiled to Babylon were permitted to return to Jerusalem if they wished. Or they could stay and many, like Daniel, chose to stay. Daniel not only found himself rising to a position of prominence, he found himself as a target of jealous officials. So, Daniel finds himself in a place we often find ourselves: how do we live as people of faith in a place that makes that difficult, if not impossible. In other words, it’s tough to be an Advent people when the culture is celebrating Christmas.

Daniel doesn’t go looking for trouble and, though he could have avoided it, he simply does what he has always done, live his life of faith. He persists in his life of faith not knowing how the story is going to play out. I am struck how the three main characters are all engaged in some kind of anticipation and waiting. Presumably, the conspirators are celebrating and looking forward to a new day without Daniel. We know that the king spends an anxious night, hoping Daniel’s God will do something, but afraid to hope for a good result. But what about Daniel, how did he spend the night? Was it warm and cuddly like some of our children’s Bible stories hint? Or, was it full of anxiety, with fierce lions watching his every move, waiting for the angel’s hand to slip from their mouths?

 The story invites us to use our imaginations because it leaves a lot of room for us to do so. This is not fanciful speculation but rather an opportunity to think about how we might live out our lives of faith as we connect our stories to God’s story shown through the Bible. The story invites us to consider how many of us are eager to be on our way to Christmas, but find ourselves stuck in the depths. How many of us are waiting for God to do something, but are having a hard time seeing it?

 Our journey toward Christmas begins with the realization that we may be in places not of our own choosing and quite unsure how the story is going to play itself out in our lives of faith. However, we are reminded that the God who has called us and claimed us as his own will bear us through wherever we feel stuck and alone, even though we may not know how or what. For, as Darius the King and Daniel both recognize, our God is a living God, one who not only invites us to anticipate what he is going to do in our lives and in our world, but to expect the unexpected. We persist, just as Daniel did, not knowing how God will work, yet trusting Immanuel, God with Us to carry us on our journey. Whether filled with anticipation, anxiety, or both, may you know that God will bring you from the depths and on the way. Amen

"Lord of the Heart" - Sermon for Christ the King

Lord of the Heart

Christ the King Sunday
November 25, 2012
Jeremiah 36.1-8 21-23, 27-28; 31.31-34

You find your blood coming from places it is not supposed to come from, or there is a lump in a place it’s not supposed to be. Perhaps your hand shakes when it shouldn’t and doesn’t do what it should. Maybe you are a bit short of breath, get tired more easily, or have some chest pains. Maybe it’s that you won’t step on a scale between now and New Year’s, nor will you schedule a physical until well after winter. In other words, you know something is not quite right and that you should go to the doctor, but you don’t go because the doctor is going to tell you something you don’t want to hear and what you need to do to fix it.

Doctors are truth tellers, and sometimes the truth hurts; the same can be said for prophets. Prophets bring a word from God to God’s people and most often the diagnosis is not a pretty one. We tend to think of prophets as people who predict the future, but they are most often forth-tellers rather than fore-tellers. Jeremiah is just one forth-teller, a truth-telling doctor who identifies sickness in the body of Judah, the southern kingdom in Israel. In the eyes of the King Jehoiakim and the people, Jeremiah is the Dr. Death of prophets. However, unlike our penchant for ignoring doctors, much as Jehoiakim and the people would like, they cannot ignore Jeremiah.

Jeremiah’s diagnosis of Judah’s condition is a familiar one: they have repeatedly broken the covenant God made with them through Moses at Mt. Sinai, a covenant that was written on stone. Furthermore, in the face of pressure from super powers such as Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon, they abandon God’s protection by seeking earthly protectors. What is worse, the people have presumed on God’s promise that the house of David would last forever, tempting kings such as Jehoiakim to do whatever they please. Ironically, Jehoiakim has an encounter with a scroll just as his father, Josiah does. (By the way, the scroll Josiah discovers is what we know as the biblical book of Deuteronomy.) However, whereas Josiah’s encounter leads to repentance on renewal, Jehoiakim responds with contempt for the word of God.

Of course, Jehoiakim’s trashing of God’s word does not prevent the word from being spoken. Jeremiah writes a second scroll and many observers believe that this scroll not only contains the word of the first, essentially the first 25 chapters of Jeremiah, but words of hope as well. (That’s why we read chapter 31 after chapter 36 today, because it follows both chronologically and theologically.) However, we also read chapter 31 last because God never speaks judgment without hope. God’s goal for Dr. Jeremiah is not punishment or getting even, but rather restoration and renewal.

You see, with God it is all about relationships, God’s relationship with us and our relationship with each other. That’s why God focuses on the heart, which in the biblical world is not just the place of emotion, but also the center of our being. It’s almost as if God is going to wipe the hard drives of our heart and writes a new program. Yet, this programming has much less to do with what we believe or imposing rules for behaving. In other words, back to the medical metaphor, it’s not just taking our medication, having surgery, eating right, and exercising regularly, though can be important. In fact, it’s more like a whole new operating system than a program. Instead, God invites us into a new way of living, a deep relationship of trust in his will for us.

About 650 years after Jeremiah’s words, the followers of an itinerant rabbi named Jesus saw in him the fulfillment of God’s promise of a new covenant. Jesus is God’s word made flesh written on our hearts. As we celebrate Christ the King today we realize that the reign of God comes through his persistent will to forgive sins, to transform lives, and to be God in spite of countless rejections. God writes Jesus on our hearts and in doing so invites us into a relationship with him and each other, not of dominance and subjection, but rather of mutuality and service. No matter what our situation, God never gives up on us and is determined to will love us back into relationship, a relationship of love. Amen.

"Answering the Call" Sermon Pentecost 25

Answering the Call
Pentecost 25
November 18, 2012
Isaiah 6.1-8

 Wow! This weekend and today in particular is as busy as it gets. People were making lefse for the Scandinavian Experience at Pathstone Living this coming Saturday. Then we had Wesley Swanson’s funeral yesterday. Today we are receiving new members, baptizing Weston, celebrating Commitment Sunday, packing boxes for Operation Christmas Child, and topped off by a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner. I’m full already and haven’t even had communion, filled out a pledge card, or eaten turkey yet!

 
This fullness may not be what Isaiah experienced during his vision of God in the temple, but it gives us a hint. In our reading today, the distinctions between the earthly temple and the heavenly throne room melted away and became blurred. Isaiah was so overwhelmed by the enormity, grandeur, and utter holiness of God that he cringed in terror.

 Now, I’ve never experienced a vision like this, but I have an inkling of what Isaiah was going through. You see, I suffer from CPS, “Crummy Pastor Syndrome,” and it flares up whenever I attend pastor’s conferences like this past week (twice, even). What happens is that, in the presence of presenters who regale us with all of the stuff we should be doing I realize what a dud I am and how far short I fall as a pastor. My some of you in other occupations suffer from something similar. However, unlike CPS, for which I have yet to discover a cure, God takes care of Isaiah’s uncleanness by burning away any and all impurities through the application of a hot coal.

 Now, it occurred to me that this was a terrific metaphor of baptism, and wouldn’t it be great if instead of using water for Weston’s baptism that we had a Weber full of hot coals and touched one to his lips? Why stop there? We could use coals for the absolution after the confession, coals to light a fire under us as we are filling out the commitment cards, and while we are at it we could even cook the turkeys! No? I didn’t think so. Of course, the common thread that runs throughout our lesson and all of these events is not coals, but rather calls. Isaiah is so overwhelmed by the grace, mercy, and love of God he eagerly answers God’s call. “Here am I, Lord. Send me!”

 This unmerited and unearned gift of God’s grace does not come with any strings attached. However, implied in that gift is a call, not a guilt trip like CPS, but rather an invitation to join God in his redemptive work to love and bless the world. As we say to our Save By Grace (Confirmation) youth, “You are blessed to be a blessing.” Being overwhelmed by God’s grace and mercy is, in fact, the basis for good stewardship and its call on our lives. We respond to the call with our commitments of time, talent, and resources. This overwhelming grace also invites us to respond by joining together in a community of faith. Furthermore, we respond to God’s grace by giving ourselves away, to each other and to our larger community.

God’s call does not come only once, but rather every day as we live out our baptismal vocations in various ways. God’s call does not come only through our church work, but rather through all facets of our lives, in whatever roles we find ourselves. God’s call, though it’s an offer we cannot refuse, doesn’t come as command but rather as an invitation. How is God calling you to live out your baptism in daily life? How is God calling you to connect more deeply with this community of faith? How is God inviting you to grow in generosity through the use of your resources, for our mission here and in the larger world? There’s only one thing we need to answer the call, to be forgiven sinners, and God has taken care of that already through the life, death, and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ. How can we not respond to God’s inviting call saying, “Here am I, Lord; send me?” Amen.

Who's the Saint? All Saints Sunday Sermon

Who’s the Saint?

All Saints Sunday (NL3 Elijah & Elisha)

November 4, 2012

1 Kings 17.1-24

Growing up in the early 50s and 60s I watched games shows like To Tell the Truth, where panelists determine which of two contestants is the imposter. There was What’s My Line, where the panelists try to discover a person’s occupation. And there was I’ve Got a Secret, with panelists trying to discover something embarrassing, unusual or amazing about a person. Given our text for today and it is All Saints Sunday, we can play a similar kind of game show, one I call, Who’s the Saint? Is it Elijah, newly minted prophet and man of God? It couldn’t it be the unnamed widow from Zarephath, a foreigner and Baal worshiper, could it? Or, is it her son who was raised from the dead; is he the saint?

We tend to think of a saint as someone who is really, really, good, such as Mother Teresa or the long-suffering person who cares for their children or spouse during difficult times. Or, we think of a saint as someone who has died and gone to be with Our Lord, such as those we’ll be honoring who have passed away this past year and remembering our other loved ones. Sometimes we combine the two and think of saints as someone who is really good and dead, such as the great saints who died in the faith, who gave their lives for the sake of the gospel. We think of St. Peter who was also crucified, but who insisted on being crucified upside down because he didn’t think of himself in the same category as his Lord.

In our imaginary game of Who’s the Saint? it seems that Elijah is the obvious choice. Elijah is called by God to bring a word of judgment against the corrupt king of Israel, Ahab. He faithfully delivers God’s word and then follows instructions to go to the Wadi Cherith where he is fed day and night by ravens. When the wadi dries up, Elijah again dutifully obeys God and goes to Zarephath to meet a widow that will provide for his needs. Not only does he promise unlimited meal and oil, he convinces God to restore the son’s life. However, there is one glitch in our theory that Elijah is the saint. You see, Elijah never dies; he is taken up into heaven by a chariot of fire.

Elijah was good, but not dead, so what about the next most likely saint, the widow’s son? We don’t know much about him, other than he seems to have escaped death only to die anyway. We’re pretty sure he meant a lot to his mother, not only personally but also economically. Widows had a tough time of it in the ancient Middle East. In fact, he not only seems to be an innocent bystander but, if his mother is right, unfairly targeted. Now, like Lazarus in John 11, the brother of Mary and Martha, whom Jesus raised to life we know that the widow’s son must have died again. Yet, doesn’t he deserve sainthood for his troubles?

What about the widow herself? Is she just a red herring of sorts in our make-believe game? Even worse, she may be one of those evil flip-floppers who change opinions with the wind. She goes from talking about the Lord your God to embracing Elijah as one who speaks God’s truth. Yet, I think the widow of Zarephath something of a model of a different type of sainthood. Here is someone who struggles with her life of faith, yet is open to what God is doing. Ultimately, she recognizes her utter dependence upon God, listens to God’s promise for her through Elijah, and then acts on that promise. I think that’s about as close to being a saint as you can get.

My guess is that the widow didn’t feel particularly saintly; probably just the opposite. Living the life of faith is no game and there are many days we don’t feel very saintly, either. When I think back to those who have gone before me, the ones who have deeply influenced me, I realize that they were complex human beings and sometimes deeply flawed, but who nonetheless realized the grace of God in their lives. Who are those people that have influenced your journey of faith? How is it that they acted in faith on God’s promised presence in their lives? Where is God calling you to do the same? Who’s the saint? Through our baptisms into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we all are. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Avoiding the Edifice Complex": Sermon for Reformation Sunday

“Avoiding the Edifice Complex”

Reformation Sunday

October 28, 2012

1 Kings 5.1-5; 8.27-30, 41-43

 “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times …” These words from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens foreshadow the paradoxical nature of the French Revolution. The “best of times” is the joy of freedom from tyranny imposed by the nobility over the peasant class. The “worst of times” is the reign of terror experienced by the violence that was unleashed following, mostly through the agency of the guillotine. Life often works that way, rarely is it all good or all bad. The election season that pollutes our airwaves is an economic boon for the media and a field day for political junkies and commentators. Our most exalted heroes seem to come with equally deep flaws, witness Lance Armstrong, cancer survivor, winner of seven “Tours de France,” and consummate cheater. Even our cherished institutions aren’t immune, witness the Boy Scouts of America, molder of boys and young men that also failed to protect them.

One of the blessings of the Bible is that it doesn’t sugarcoat life. It is often brutally honest about the human condition in all its splendor and in all its brokenness. David, a man after God’s own heart, the greatest king of Israel, and writer of psalms commits adultery with another man’s wife and has him killed when he finds out she is pregnant. Even Solomon, David’s second son by that same woman, Bathsheba, asking for and receiving wisdom that becomes legendary, bringing peace to Israel and the builder of the temple, falters by going after other gods. It is not only people that exhibit both greatness and corruption, its beloved institutions that do so, too.

Today’s reading gives some snippets about what was promised last week, the building of the temple. Solomon accomplishes what God both denied to his father David yet promised as well. The temple took seven years to build and was magnificent. It housed the Ark of the Covenant, the place where the tablets bearing the Ten Commandments were housed and God’s holy seat. Solomon, in a wonderful prayer of dedication, of which we only get a glimpse, acknowledges that God is way beyond residing in the temple yet also promises that any and all that come to the temple will be heard, including non-Jews.

However, the biblical narrative also describes in lurid detail decadent and corrupt priests, heavy temple taxes on those who could least afford it, and a sacrificial system that had Jesus going on a rampage. Yet, even today, with only the Western Wall remaining of a temple that has been destroyed three times and rebuilt twice, the Temple Mount and Wall draw thousands of pilgrims daily. It is the best of places and the worst of places.

It is providential that we celebrate the Reformation today, remembering how Martin Luther began the great conversation by nailing 95 theses, or points of discussion, on the doors of the Castle Church in Wittenberg. He did it to protest the sale of indulgences that would finance the renovations of a temple of sorts, St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Indulgence promised special grace, for a price, and Luther objected that we should not have to pay for something that Christ gives us freely. However, before we get too carried away by Protestant pride, we need to remember that the Reformation, too, was “the best of times and the worst of times.” We need to remember that our forebears in the faith and our institutions are also both heroes and flawed. In Luther’s parlance, we are simul iustus et peccator, both saint and sinner.

The rallying cry of the Reformation has become, in another Latin phrase, "Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda," the church of the Reformation is always reforming. This slogan challenges us to ask several questions. What is God doing in this place? What is God calling us to do in response? Is this a place where all are truly welcome or have we constructed barriers that prevent access to God’s presence? The good news is that God has not given up on us and continues to work in, with, and through the most deeply flawed people and institutions. In other words, God is working in, with, and through you, me, and this place. Through Christ’s grace, we will reform the broken places and strengthen grace-filled places. Thanks be to God. Amen.