Sunday, January 20, 2013
"Leaving for Good" - Sermon for Second Sunday after Epiphany
Leaving for Good
Epiphany 2 (NL3)
January 20, 2013
Luke 4.14-30; 5.1-11
At its heart, the season of Epiphany focuses on manifestations, or disclosures, of God’s presence in our world. On Epiphany itself, there is the star guiding us to the Christ child in Bethlehem. Last week, God is shown in the torn heavens, loud voice, and dove at Jesus’ baptism. “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased. Listen to him.” Today, Jesus is revealed as the one who comes to fulfill Scripture and do miraculous things. It’s important to understand that, as we learned last week, through his baptism Jesus has been anointed for a purpose, one that will unfold as we go. Jesus is on a mission from God.
As we can see in today’s texts, these disclosures of God’s presence in Jesus produce various reactions. Throughout Galilee Jesus was praised for his teaching and preaching, until he came to Nazareth where he was met first with skepticism and then rejection. Then, at Gennesaret, Peter responds as many do in the presence of the Holy Other: he falls at Jesus’ feet acknowledging his own unworthiness, not for what he has done, but for who Jesus is. Yet, the most intriguing response is the most understated one: Peter, James, and John left everything and followed him.
In Luke’s version of this story, it’s fascinating that Peter, James, and John leave everything and follow Jesus on their own. It’s only later that Jesus will tell his disciples to deny themselves, take up their crosses, and follow him. Yet, even a little reflection astounds us (and frightens us) with the magnitude of their response. On one level, this borders on the insane for professional fishermen to leave behind what must be a windfall to them, two boatloads of fish. Certainly, their response is an external action that reflects some kind of internal attachment and commitment to Jesus. But, what did this radical act of dedication mean for them in terms of their personal and family lives?
Furthermore, the text intimates there is more to following Jesus than leaving behind personal property, because Jesus has been set apart to reorient the world’s priorities when it comes to the poor and others who experience marginalization. As the Jesus story plays out, the disciples will be asked to leave behind their preconceived notions of who are valued in God’s kingdom, to see that all people are included in God’s love and grace. So, the story invites us to ask ourselves: what do we need to leave behind to follow Jesus? I’ve mentioned often how I left the church after Confirmation because I hated the hypocrisy I saw in the church, how people often said one thing and did another. Years later, as I responded to Jesus call I realized that in order to return and follow Jesus, I had to leave behind my own hypocrisy and judgmental attitudes.
I’ve thought about this deeply this past week, especially on a personal level, knowing that there are things I have tried to leave behind that I still carry, and how I am not there by a long shot. But, I’ve also thought deeply what things God might be inviting us as a congregation to leave behind. For example, is there a way we can honor and celebrate our past yet let it go so that we can be about what God is calling us to be and to do, to realize that God is calling us to be something else than what we were? And, is there a way we can explore what God is calling us to be and to do without comparing ourselves, always unfavorably, to other churches? Can we let go of these things?
As we wrestle with these important questions, it’s important to remember that leaving these things behind are not so much requirements for following Jesus as it is Jesus’ invitation to live the life he wants for us. Note that Jesus doesn’t ask Simon Peter to get his act together first and then come and follow. Rather, Jesus meets him where he is, tells him not to be afraid, and invites him to kingdom living. It gets tiring holding on to things that weigh us down, and Jesus calls us to leave those things behind in order to find new life in him. What might Jesus be inviting you to leave behind today? Know that his life Jesus offers is a life of meaning and purpose, to live for something other than ourselves. It’s leaving for good. Amen.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
"The Call of the Baptist" Sermon for The Baptism of Our Lord Sunday
The Call of the Baptist
Baptism of Our Lord
January 13, 2013
Luke 3.1-22
For those of us who have used the Revised Common Lectionary, today’s reading may seem jarring and out of place. We usually hear the stories about John the Baptist before Christmas during the season of Advent, preparing us for the coming of Jesus as the baby in the manger. Of course, that’s not the way it happened. Narratively speaking, we have the story of John’s remarkable conception and birth intertwined with Jesus’. So, John does come before Jesus in many ways: he born before Jesus, he appears on the scene preaching and baptizing before Jesus, and as foreshadowed in the reading, he will die before Jesus does.
The question is, “What does the story tell us or prepare us for regarding this Jesus character?” The story begins and ends with baptism, but interestingly, Jesus appears late in the story and says nothing. We are not only left with wondering what comes next, but also asking, “Why was Jesus baptized?” Furthermore, we wonder what this story about baptism has to do with our lives of faith. Before we grapple with these questions, it’s important to know that the baptism John performed was not the same as what we know of today. The Jews at the time of John and Jesus had several purification rites they regularly observed.
It is also helpful to acknowledge that what we know as baptism has many aspects to it. As I said to the children, baptism is at heart a gift of God’s grace, which we cannot earn. As David Lose says, “Our relationship with God is the one relationship in life we can’t screw up because we didn’t establish it; we can neglect it, deny it, ignore it, and even run away, but we cannot destroy it.” When I talk to the Confirmation students about baptism as gift, I relate to a baby receiving a pen as a gift with no strings attached. The baby doesn’t know what it’s for, and may put it in its mouth until it learns how to use it properly. The child could throw it in drawer and ignore it, but the gift still remains nonetheless. Second, baptism is a matter of identity; God reaches down and makes us his beloved children. This is good news at a time when many elements of identity have been diminished and replaced by what we own instead of who we are or what we do. No matter what happens to us, we are still loved by God.
This is all fine and good, yet our story doesn’t just leave us hanging with a good feeling; it pushes us ahead. There is “so what?” quality about today’s reading that is also present throughout the gospels. In all four versions of the Jesus story, Jesus’ baptism is the beginning of his public ministry. His baptism more than just a nice transition story from John to Jesus, it is Jesus’ launching pad to the work God called him to do. This says something about what baptism means to us as well. Although the traditional understanding of baptism as cleansing, forgiveness, and renewal doesn’t necessarily apply to Jesus as to us, the force of baptism for us is the same as it is for Jesus; it is a call on our lives.
Our family is a big fan of the JRR Tolkien books, so it was obligatory for us to see The Hobbit. Bilbo is a hobbit, a small being that lives in homes carved in hillsides and enjoys food and drink. Hobbits lead quiet, uneventful lives and are generally free from life’s stress, never travelling far from home. So, when Gandalf the magician shows up along with twelve dwarves to invite Bilbo on an adventure, Bilbo is aghast if not scandalized. He never could have imagined this call on his life. Neither Bilbo nor the dwarves can understand why Gandalf insists on bringing Bilbo, other than they need one more body to avoid an unlucky number of travelers, and truth be told, Gandalf doesn’t, too. Yet, as the story unfolds, all of us learn, Bilbo included, there is more to him than meets the eye.
That’s what our baptisms do: we are not just baptized from something, we are baptized for something. Now, we have to admit, this can be scary, because being Christ’s follower can be risky business, as we see from what happens to John the Baptist. And it’s scary because we never know what God is going to ask of us or where he’ll call us. Yet, it’s tremendously satisfying to know that each and every one of us is set aside by God, given gifts that are hard for us to imagine, and invited to join God in the mission to love and bless the world. The great thing is that even when we stumble, God is right there picking us up and sending us out again.
This is not just armchair theologizing. This is real life stuff, and it applies to us as a church, too. We still need two people to step up and answer the call for leadership on council, two “Bilbos,” if you will. And in two weeks we’ll be approving a ministry spending plan for this year. God is calling us into some crazy adventures. Of course, we always need people to step up other places too, but it’s not just about filling slots with warm bodies, and it’s not even about making sure the church survives. It’s about answering God’s call to serve.
Answering the call of the Baptist means listening to God’s voice in its various modulations as God asks us to engage in mission and ministry so that all will know God’s love. That call comes in our personal and professional lives as much as it comes here. Where is God inviting you to live out your baptism in your daily life? How is God calling you? Wherever it is, touch the ribbons of water as you leave here today to be reminded that you are God’s beloved child, gifted and blessed to be a blessing. Amen.
Monday, December 24, 2012
"At the Foot of the Manger" Christmas Eve Sermon
Moving
toward Christmas: At the Foot of the Manger
Christmas Eve
December 24,
2012
Luke 2.1-20
Merry
Christmas! Christmas is about a lot of things, isn’t it, many of which can
drive us crazy. We put up what we hope is the perfect trees and decorate them
with ornaments. We string lights on our rooftops and decorate our lawns. (I don’t
understand plastic manger scenes and giant inflatable figures, but if they are meaningful
to you, God bless you.) We try to buy just the right presents and wrap them
with just the right paper. We sing carols and bake goodies. Growing up, most of
our Christmas was done Christmas Eve. We’d get to open one present before
dinner and the rest afterward, hopefully dodging the socks and underwear. Of course,
attending church would be squeezed in there. For many years, until my dad’s
bachelor brother got married, Uncle Floyd would join us, “As long as you
promise not to get me anything,” which, of course we agreed to and then
promptly ignored.
Christmas was both
predictable yet surprising. My only sister would always get a doll of some sort
and it was devastating when we all realized one year that she was too old for them
anymore. We would all go to great lengths to disguise our presents, especially
for my incurably snoopy sister. One year, I disguised a record album by placing
a cardboard tent over it; it drove her nuts. And my parents would go to great
lengths to make sure they spent the same amount on all four of us, right down
to the last penny. One year, that meant that we all got identical clock radios.
At the heart
of these traditions and memories is the fact that Christmas is about
relationships. Christmas is about being together, about creating, sustaining
and nurturing our connections with each other. When I moved away and then when
Cindy and I got married, we made the journey back to our homes, until moving
too far away and then having children of our made going home impossible. Even
then, we found ways to be together, always within our local church. Of course, we
made new memories and traditions with our children. We know these relationships
are important, because it is so painful when we don’t have them or when they
aren’t what we want them to be.
The Christmas story
is all about being together, about the lengths God will go to be with us. If
the story of Jesus’ birth as told in Luke’s gospel were a movie, it would open
with a wide shot. The recounting of the historical situation with all of the
powerful people is panoramic and majestic. Virtually, the whole known world is
encompassed and you can feel the influence of the powerful people. However, as
the story progresses, the camera makes tighter and tighter shots, focusing on
this little country, then a small region, a provincial town, and then the
humblest of people and places. Finally, the camera focuses on a young married
couple and their baby boy, lying in a manger.
Yet, as we
read on, the camera begins to pull back to wider shot, very different from the
first. Here we have an angel appearing to not the rich and powerful, but to
despised shepherds. These startled outcasts, far from the positions of
influence, are confronted with a host. The host is not the infamous Roman
centurion army, but rather an angelic host with a different message. The birth
of humble Jesus is good news of great joy for all people, for he is
Savior, Messiah, and Lord. This news is so good that the shepherds just have to
share it and see it for themselves.
The effect of
the Lucan cinematography is stunning, but the point is even more stunning to us.
The good news is that Jesus is being born not where expected, but where people
need him the most. This is important for us to remember all year long, not just
at Christmastime. We need to be reminded that God not only came in the flesh
that Christmas time 2,000 years ago. God continues to be embodied in the world,
through you and me as we go out into this hurting, broken world that needs to
hear that God is with us, that God knows what it’s like to be one of us.
We’ve been
making a journey toward Christmas this Advent Season, and as we arrive at the
foot of the manger, we realize that our journey is really only beginning. The
fact is, we don’t meet Jesus as much as Jesus meets, having made a much longer
trip to reach us, taking on human flesh and coming down to be with us. Wherever
you are tonight, however your celebrate Christmas, know that God is meeting you
where you are and is being born in your heart anew. Cherish the traditions you
have, but even more so cherish those with whom you share them. Merry Christmas,
everyone! Amen.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
"Moving toward Christmas: Encouraged by the Promise" Sermon Advent 4
Moving
toward Christmas: Encouraged by the Promise
Advent 4 (Narrative Lectionary 3)
December 23,
2012
Luke 1.26-49
If it is true
that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans, then Mary must have
had God in stitches rolling on the floor. No doubt she was planning to marry
Joseph and have children. Nowhere in her universe, though, could she imagine a
visit from an angel who would tell her that she was going to have a child
through the action of the Holy Spirit, much less the Son of God, Savior, and Messiah. Yet, here an angel of the Lord
comes with an offer that she both can and cannot refuse, and all of creation
holds its collective breath waiting for her answer: will she or won’t she say,
“Yes?”
We’ve used the
metaphor of a journey this Advent, as we are moving toward Christmas. On the First
Sunday of Advent and the story of Daniel in the lions’ den, we’ve realized that
we have come from places not of our own choosing, utterly dependent upon God’s
grace. Through the prophet Joel on the Second Sunday of Advent, we also
admitted our involvement in the brokenness of the world and our need for a
savior. Then, last week, we heard from Isaiah how we’ve been sustained in our
journey by the vision God gives us of life through his Son. Today, as we get
near the end of our journey, we are encouraged in our own journeys of faith by
the promises that God makes to us through the most unlikely of people, his
servant Mary.
However, as we
know all too well, the journeys we take don’t always go as we had planned. In
today’s reading we find that “the way to the manger” is surprising and
unexpected. The direction that God takes Mary is not one that she would choose
for herself, and even when she said “Yes” to God’s invitation, though she
doesn’t know how, life will never be the same for her again. What’s interesting
in the story is that Mary does not have a problem to be solved like so many women
in the Bible. She is not barren or without a husband. Presumably, life is good.
Sometimes, though, God is not the answer to our problems; rather, God is the
cause of our “problems.”
The challenge
that Mary’s story poses for us today is, “Are we going to be open to what God
is doing in our lives?” Admittedly, this is hard to do when life is coming at
you fast and furious and even out of control. Like Mary, we may be tempted to
say, “God, could you just favor someone else for a change?” Yet, just as God
was present at creation, not only bringing order out chaos, but working in, with,
and under the chaos, so we have to trust that God is working in, with, and
through our chaos. We don’t do this because of who Mary is or what she does,
but because of who God is and what God does through her.
We tend to
think of obedience to God as doing what God tells us to do, to knuckle under to
God. But I think that obedience is more about paying attention to what God is
doing, to be ready to say yes, even if we don’t fully know what this means for
us and our lives. Part of that openness means listening to how God is working
through others as well. Mary’s story is tied to Elizabeth’s story, a kinswoman
who confirms that God is doing something incredible in, with, and through her life.
I’ve mentioned before how God worked in my life, through disorder and chaos, to
bring me to seminary and the ordained ministry, over the course of eight years,
in fact. But God worked through many people as well, helping me to hear God’s call
on my life.
One thing I
can attest to is that it is precisely those times in my life when things did
not go as I had planned, when the journey changed, that God was the most
present and the most real to me. As you make this final leg of the journey to
Christmas and beyond, look in the chaotic and unexpected moments for where God
is present, and listen for God’s voice in others. One small plug: some of you
are being approached about serving on church council in the coming years. This is
not about filling slots with warm bodies; this is about the leadership this congregation
needs for this next year and beyond. For you and others, please give it
prayerful consideration and say, as Mary did, “Here am I, the servant of the
Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Amen.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
"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.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
"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.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
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?
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