Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on December 24, 2015
Scripture text: Luke 2:1-20
Every year around this time, we are told that our cherished holiday is under attack. That Christmas isn’t what it used to be anymore. We are greeted in stores with “Happy Holidays.” Our children perform “Holiday shows” and put up “Holiday Trees.” Nativity scenes are banished from public spaces because of something in the Constitution. Christmas is under assault! There’s a war on and we must fight.
Well, as I look out over all of you here gathered tonight, sitting in these pews, singing hymns, praying prayers, and worshiping our Lord, I have to simply scratch my head at the idea that Christmas is somehow under attack. After all, isn’t THIS what Christmas is truly about? Celebrating the birth of the savior of the world? Keeping Christ in Christmas by keeping Mass in Christmas. Worshiping our Lord. That’s what this holiday is really about.
But it’s obvious there are those who wish to make this holiday (and it is a holiday, a holy day) into something more. They want it to be some manner of cultural marker. Proof of our true Christian-ness or true American-ness or something. If you say Merry Christmas and put up a Christmas tree and spend far more money than you probably have in the stores for gifts, then you’re one of the “in-crowd.” You’re not one of them. Those people. Those Christmas-hating atheists or Jews or Muslims or whatever. You’re not one of those pagans who like to remind us this festival has its origins in the solstice celebrations of old and that Christians appropriated them to make Christmas.
We’re not one of those wicked people out there who hate Christmas. We’re not them. We’re those who truly honor this day. That’s what certain people want us to say and think about ourselves. They want to make Christmas into a dividing line, separating us from all those who don’t measure up on some arbitrary scale of Christmas devotion..
If we’re listening to them, if we’re making this day into a line that divides us from our fellow human beings, then we truly have utterly missed the point of why Jesus came in the first place.
Why did he come?
The song of the angels gives us that clue. As the shepherds look up in awe upon the heavenly host, rank upon rank of angels singing praise to God, we hear the purpose the Jesus’ birth: on earth (let there be) peace among those whom God favors.
Peace, not division. Harmony, not divisiveness. Calm, not violence. Love, not hatred. That is what Jesus came to bring.
“Ah, but Pastor, such gifts are only to those whom God favors,” you might say. And you’d be right. That’s the precise reading of the text, translated accurately from the original language. But who is it that God favors?
The Christmas Warriors would probably puff themselves up at this point and say “Well, us, of course. We’re the real Christmas people. We’re the real Christians. We’re the real Americans. We’re the real whatever.”
Hate to disappoint you, but that’s not what the Bible says.
Jesus’ coming is predicted all throughout the Old Testament. To Abraham, God says “From you will come a blessing that will be for all people of the Earth.” To the prophet Micah, God says “all the nations and all the peoples will come to me and he will beat their swords into plowshares and they will learn war no more.” These ideas are echoed even in the New Testament. What does Jesus himself say about why he came? To Nicodemus in that verse most of us, if not all, have memorized “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only son...”
The Christmas story itself even highlights these truths. The angels appear to the poor shepherds, barely more than slaves, up in the hills. The star calls to the magi, ambassadors of far-away kings, rich and foreign. The stage is set for the salvation of the whole world.
The WHOLE world. All people. All families. All nations. THAT is who God favors. THAT is who is to receive his peace and blessing. Rich, poor, American, foreign, black, white, gay, straight, men, women, young. old, all of humanity. Christmas isn’t ours to possess. It isn’t ours to bludgeon others over their heads for their insufficient devotion to it, because Jesus gives himself to everyone and for everyone.
He proves this time and again in his life. When a Roman comes to him in desperate need for a sick servant, Jesus heals. When Jesus encounters a hated tax collector, he invites him to become a disciple. When Jesus meets a woman caught in adultery, he forgives her. Time and again, Jesus proves that his mission is for all people. He’s a uniter. He brings the world together in peace.
This is what Christmas is really about. It’s the whole “peace on Earth” bit. But how can we have peace on Earth when we are so ready to condemn and divide from one another? I get that there is evil in this world; we see it on the news every night. But it will not be overcome by our embracing its ways, but by us doing what Jesus has called us to do as his disciples. Do as he did. Love your neighbor. Forgive your enemies. Bring peace into the world around you.
This day is for all people, just as Jesus came to save all people. God’s favor is upon the world, all of it, even the parts we don’t like. That’s what this is all about. God was not going to settle for a sliver of the world. He was going for all of it. And so should we.
God bless. Merry Christmas. Amen.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Sermon for the Funeral of Freddie Kemfort
Preached at Bethlehem United Methodist Church, Dallastown, PA on December 18, 2015
Scripture text: John 14:1-6
“This sucks.”
On Sunday afternoon, I was having lunch at Taco Bell in Shrewsbury, on my way to a meeting, when I got the phone call. Freddie’s in a bad way; you need to get to the hospital. So I finished my food and rushed back up. I walked into his room with him and Lindsey and his nurse. Freddie was trying to get comfortable in his bed and he just couldn’t. He was moving and fussing, and you could tell he was hurting. And he looks up at the nurse and said aloud “This sucks.”
I know that kind of language isn’t terribly proper for a church setting, but sometimes proper language just doesn’t cut it. Our emotions are raw right now. We’re angry. This isn’t fair. People aren’t supposed to get sick. Healthy and strong men like Freddie aren’t supposed to die in their 30s. We’re confused. This isn’t supposed to happen to good people and Freddie’s as good as they come. We’re afraid. He was only 36. If it can happen to him...what about me? What about the others that I love? We’re sad. He leaves behind two lovely children and beautiful wife, a whole host of friends and family. It’s not fair.
So let’s just be honest; This does suck. This whole thing is wrong.
And then there’s the whole timing of it all. It’s Christmas. We’re only a week away. We’re not supposed to be sad at this time of year. We’re supposed to be merry! Well, we’re not merry. Not by a long shot.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Everything about this just ain’t right. It truly does, in Freddie’s own words, “suck.”
But, while we are in this honest moment and expressing our sincere and intense anger and sorrow and confusion, let us also remember another truth. We are far from alone in looking upon this with those emotions. We are not alone in assessing this as wrong, that it’s unfair, that it should not be.
I believe with every fiber of my being that not only is God here present with us in this moment, but he feels as we do. He’s angry about this. He’s upset. He’s hurting. He’s feeling it too. He’s been feeling it, ever since the world began, because every time life goes wrong like this, he feels it.
All of us are God’s precious creation. You, me, Freddie, everyone here. “Fearfully and wonderfully made” the Psalmist once wrote of us. We are God’s joy, the reason a smile crosses his face. In much the same way that Freddie looked upon Lindsey or Zoey or MaKenzie, God looks at us, all of us. He loves us beyond words. He did not create us to suffer. He created a good and just world in which we could thrive. But something went wrong, and because something went wrong, this is what happens.
People dying far too young. The nightmare of disease. A wife left widowed and children without a father. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But God isn’t going to leave it like this. He’s put in motion a plan to fix what has gone wrong.
The Bible tells us that his plan began with a man in ancient times called Abraham. God said to him “I’m making you a promise. I’m going to make your family something great and from them, I’m going to bring a blessing that will be for everybody. All the families of this world will be blessed.”
And God fulfilled that promise in the birth of a child, born to Abraham’s line. That birth we will celebrate one week from today, the birth of Jesus Christ.
That baby didn’t stay a baby, of course, but he grew up and taught us about God and God’s purposes for the world. One of those lessons is the passage of Scripture I just read from the Gospel of John. Jesus teaches “Look, I’m going to prepare a place for you. I’m going to ready a place away from all this pain and torment. And then I’m going to take you there. I’m going to put right what went wrong in the world. I’m the way that’s going to happen. I’m the solution to all the world’s problems.”
It’s not long after this teaching that Jesus puts his money where his mouth is. He goes from here to Jerusalem, where he’s arrested, put on trial, and nailed to a cross. He dies so that the world may live. So you and I and Freddie may have life abundant, life eternal. And as if to demonstrate just how true that is, he rose again on the third day. Easter had come.
We all know the world’s got problems, and the biggest one is right before us today. Death. But God is doing something about this. God has done something about this. Jesus came and told us he was going to fix this. And he did. He went to cross and rose again on the third day. “It is finished!” he cries out from the cross. God keeps his promises, and in that moment, the promise was fulfilled.
It may not seem that way right now, but the world is moving in the right direction. It’s hard for us to wait for that day when Jesus finally says “All is ready.” We’re not there yet and we know it. But we can be confident that that day is coming.
And on that day, as the Bible tells us, the dead will rise and they will have life again. And we will all be together: us, God, and those we’ve lost. On that day, the promise God made through Jesus will be fulfilled. “Where I am, there you will be also.”
Until then, here we are. We will cry. We will scream at the sky in rage. We will hold one another and offer words of comfort. And life will continue. We will be there for one another, but we will also keep hope. Hope that the day God promises is coming soon. The day when the world will be set right and all this pain will go away and we will see those we love again.
Freddie will be there on that day. He will be waiting for us, waiting to welcome us into the world that is meant to be. And he’ll hug and kiss Lindsey and his girls with a smile on his face. And he’ll tell all of us “This...this does NOT suck. This is what we’ve waited for. This is what God promised us. It’s here at last.” Amen.
Scripture text: John 14:1-6
“This sucks.”
On Sunday afternoon, I was having lunch at Taco Bell in Shrewsbury, on my way to a meeting, when I got the phone call. Freddie’s in a bad way; you need to get to the hospital. So I finished my food and rushed back up. I walked into his room with him and Lindsey and his nurse. Freddie was trying to get comfortable in his bed and he just couldn’t. He was moving and fussing, and you could tell he was hurting. And he looks up at the nurse and said aloud “This sucks.”
I know that kind of language isn’t terribly proper for a church setting, but sometimes proper language just doesn’t cut it. Our emotions are raw right now. We’re angry. This isn’t fair. People aren’t supposed to get sick. Healthy and strong men like Freddie aren’t supposed to die in their 30s. We’re confused. This isn’t supposed to happen to good people and Freddie’s as good as they come. We’re afraid. He was only 36. If it can happen to him...what about me? What about the others that I love? We’re sad. He leaves behind two lovely children and beautiful wife, a whole host of friends and family. It’s not fair.
So let’s just be honest; This does suck. This whole thing is wrong.
And then there’s the whole timing of it all. It’s Christmas. We’re only a week away. We’re not supposed to be sad at this time of year. We’re supposed to be merry! Well, we’re not merry. Not by a long shot.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Everything about this just ain’t right. It truly does, in Freddie’s own words, “suck.”
But, while we are in this honest moment and expressing our sincere and intense anger and sorrow and confusion, let us also remember another truth. We are far from alone in looking upon this with those emotions. We are not alone in assessing this as wrong, that it’s unfair, that it should not be.
I believe with every fiber of my being that not only is God here present with us in this moment, but he feels as we do. He’s angry about this. He’s upset. He’s hurting. He’s feeling it too. He’s been feeling it, ever since the world began, because every time life goes wrong like this, he feels it.
All of us are God’s precious creation. You, me, Freddie, everyone here. “Fearfully and wonderfully made” the Psalmist once wrote of us. We are God’s joy, the reason a smile crosses his face. In much the same way that Freddie looked upon Lindsey or Zoey or MaKenzie, God looks at us, all of us. He loves us beyond words. He did not create us to suffer. He created a good and just world in which we could thrive. But something went wrong, and because something went wrong, this is what happens.
People dying far too young. The nightmare of disease. A wife left widowed and children without a father. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But God isn’t going to leave it like this. He’s put in motion a plan to fix what has gone wrong.
The Bible tells us that his plan began with a man in ancient times called Abraham. God said to him “I’m making you a promise. I’m going to make your family something great and from them, I’m going to bring a blessing that will be for everybody. All the families of this world will be blessed.”
And God fulfilled that promise in the birth of a child, born to Abraham’s line. That birth we will celebrate one week from today, the birth of Jesus Christ.
That baby didn’t stay a baby, of course, but he grew up and taught us about God and God’s purposes for the world. One of those lessons is the passage of Scripture I just read from the Gospel of John. Jesus teaches “Look, I’m going to prepare a place for you. I’m going to ready a place away from all this pain and torment. And then I’m going to take you there. I’m going to put right what went wrong in the world. I’m the way that’s going to happen. I’m the solution to all the world’s problems.”
It’s not long after this teaching that Jesus puts his money where his mouth is. He goes from here to Jerusalem, where he’s arrested, put on trial, and nailed to a cross. He dies so that the world may live. So you and I and Freddie may have life abundant, life eternal. And as if to demonstrate just how true that is, he rose again on the third day. Easter had come.
We all know the world’s got problems, and the biggest one is right before us today. Death. But God is doing something about this. God has done something about this. Jesus came and told us he was going to fix this. And he did. He went to cross and rose again on the third day. “It is finished!” he cries out from the cross. God keeps his promises, and in that moment, the promise was fulfilled.
It may not seem that way right now, but the world is moving in the right direction. It’s hard for us to wait for that day when Jesus finally says “All is ready.” We’re not there yet and we know it. But we can be confident that that day is coming.
And on that day, as the Bible tells us, the dead will rise and they will have life again. And we will all be together: us, God, and those we’ve lost. On that day, the promise God made through Jesus will be fulfilled. “Where I am, there you will be also.”
Until then, here we are. We will cry. We will scream at the sky in rage. We will hold one another and offer words of comfort. And life will continue. We will be there for one another, but we will also keep hope. Hope that the day God promises is coming soon. The day when the world will be set right and all this pain will go away and we will see those we love again.
Freddie will be there on that day. He will be waiting for us, waiting to welcome us into the world that is meant to be. And he’ll hug and kiss Lindsey and his girls with a smile on his face. And he’ll tell all of us “This...this does NOT suck. This is what we’ve waited for. This is what God promised us. It’s here at last.” Amen.
Devotional for the week of December 20, 2015 (Week of Christmas)
Scripture reading: Micah 4:1-5 (Appointed for December 22)
Most of us have probably heard the old Chinese "curse:" May you live in interesting times.
Well, I think it is a fair statement that we are living in those interesting times right now.
I have had the fortune (misfortune perhaps) to have lived through the final years of the Cold War, a time when nuclear annihilation seemed like a very real possibility. I remember Samantha Smith asking the Russians if they were going to blow us up. I remember President Reagan joking about outlawing Russia and that bombing would commence in 5 minutes. I remember preachers talking about the end of the world being just around the corner; that because Chernobyl translates to "wormwood" in English that the accident in the Ukraine was proof that the Apocalypse was nigh. I remember the fear.
Now maybe it's the difference between a child's perceptions and an adult's, but the fear and anxiety now FAR overshadows anything I remember from the 1980s. On one level, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Statistically, you are far more likely to be mauled by a bear, eaten by a shark, or struck by lightning than you are to be killed by the hands of a terrorist. Maybe even all three at once.
That sounds like a nasty D&D monster: The Lightning Bear Shark. Which is fitting since the odds of dying to an imaginary monster is still probably more likely than dying in a terrorist attack. Not that it matters. Perception is almost always more important than reality when it comes to these sorts of things.
But even reality isn't very fun right now. Yes, terrorism is real, but remote. What is more immediate for many of us are other threats, other things that frighten. There's crime, there's economic insecurity, there's disease, there's the death of loved ones, there's the changing demographics of our society. People feel like life is leaving them behind. That leaves us unsettled...nervous...scared.
It may not be a lot of consolation, but this truly is nothing new. The world we live in is an unsettling place. In many ways, we're always out of sorts. What changes is the form that it takes. It's a broken world, broken by sin, death, and discord. Even if we didn't have the teachings of our faith to tell us that, we would know it in our guts and in our hearts. Life just ain't right. We're ALWAYS living in interesting times.
God is, of course, fully aware of this. He knows the world is broken. It wasn't his intention for things to be this way; Genesis makes very clear the world was made "good." But he was there when it went wrong and he's been here ever since, slowly and inexorably putting things back to right.
Time and again, God reveals this intention for our world. He is going to put things back the way they were supposed to be. Our passage from Micah today is one such example. It is a reiteration of the Old Covenant, the purpose of God for the world. The nations will come to God to learn his ways, to put aside their differences, "to learn war no more." Swords to plowshares and peace on Earth and all that.
In this time of year, we see another powerful example of God's intentions for our world in the birth of his Son. It it no coincidence that even in the famous Christmas story, we hear again this purpose of God: Peace on Earth, good will towards humankind.
Those words and the plan and purpose behind them resonate in our day as much if not more so than they ever have. No matter how "interesting" life becomes, God is at work. God is present. God, through Christ, is bringing peace on Earth.
So we'll live through terrorism, cold wars, lousy job markets, and an ever changing and sometimes seemingly darkening world. God remains true to his promise and his purpose. There will come a day when all will be set right. There will come a day when all the nations and all the people will stream to him to learn peace once more. The Old Testament testifies to this. The New Testament testifies to this. Christ brings this through his birth, life, death, and resurrection.
It is coming. Fear not. For this great news for all people...
Merry Christmas.
Most of us have probably heard the old Chinese "curse:" May you live in interesting times.
Well, I think it is a fair statement that we are living in those interesting times right now.
I have had the fortune (misfortune perhaps) to have lived through the final years of the Cold War, a time when nuclear annihilation seemed like a very real possibility. I remember Samantha Smith asking the Russians if they were going to blow us up. I remember President Reagan joking about outlawing Russia and that bombing would commence in 5 minutes. I remember preachers talking about the end of the world being just around the corner; that because Chernobyl translates to "wormwood" in English that the accident in the Ukraine was proof that the Apocalypse was nigh. I remember the fear.
Now maybe it's the difference between a child's perceptions and an adult's, but the fear and anxiety now FAR overshadows anything I remember from the 1980s. On one level, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Statistically, you are far more likely to be mauled by a bear, eaten by a shark, or struck by lightning than you are to be killed by the hands of a terrorist. Maybe even all three at once.
That sounds like a nasty D&D monster: The Lightning Bear Shark. Which is fitting since the odds of dying to an imaginary monster is still probably more likely than dying in a terrorist attack. Not that it matters. Perception is almost always more important than reality when it comes to these sorts of things.
But even reality isn't very fun right now. Yes, terrorism is real, but remote. What is more immediate for many of us are other threats, other things that frighten. There's crime, there's economic insecurity, there's disease, there's the death of loved ones, there's the changing demographics of our society. People feel like life is leaving them behind. That leaves us unsettled...nervous...scared.
It may not be a lot of consolation, but this truly is nothing new. The world we live in is an unsettling place. In many ways, we're always out of sorts. What changes is the form that it takes. It's a broken world, broken by sin, death, and discord. Even if we didn't have the teachings of our faith to tell us that, we would know it in our guts and in our hearts. Life just ain't right. We're ALWAYS living in interesting times.
God is, of course, fully aware of this. He knows the world is broken. It wasn't his intention for things to be this way; Genesis makes very clear the world was made "good." But he was there when it went wrong and he's been here ever since, slowly and inexorably putting things back to right.
Time and again, God reveals this intention for our world. He is going to put things back the way they were supposed to be. Our passage from Micah today is one such example. It is a reiteration of the Old Covenant, the purpose of God for the world. The nations will come to God to learn his ways, to put aside their differences, "to learn war no more." Swords to plowshares and peace on Earth and all that.
In this time of year, we see another powerful example of God's intentions for our world in the birth of his Son. It it no coincidence that even in the famous Christmas story, we hear again this purpose of God: Peace on Earth, good will towards humankind.
Those words and the plan and purpose behind them resonate in our day as much if not more so than they ever have. No matter how "interesting" life becomes, God is at work. God is present. God, through Christ, is bringing peace on Earth.
So we'll live through terrorism, cold wars, lousy job markets, and an ever changing and sometimes seemingly darkening world. God remains true to his promise and his purpose. There will come a day when all will be set right. There will come a day when all the nations and all the people will stream to him to learn peace once more. The Old Testament testifies to this. The New Testament testifies to this. Christ brings this through his birth, life, death, and resurrection.
It is coming. Fear not. For this great news for all people...
Merry Christmas.
Sermon for Fourth Advent
Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on Sunday, December 20, 2015
Preaching text: Luke 1:46-55
I’m tired.
Preaching text: Luke 1:46-55
I’m tired.
I’m not tired in the sense of “I didn’t sleep last night and I really need my coffee this morning” kind of way. I’m worn out. Fed up. I’m tired of the world being the way it is. Enough is enough.
I’m tired of turning on my internet to hear the latest idiocy from our political class. These people say the most offensive and hurtful things. In a polite society, they’d be told to go pound sand for espousing such bigotry and hate, but we don’t live in a polite society. Not anymore and maybe not ever. No, we worship bullies. We want to be them. We foolishly think that’s real strength. I’m sorry, but when you go to the movies and root for the bad guy, it’s supposed to be a joke. You don’t mistake the villain for the hero. You know which side is which. Too bad real life isn’t working that way.
I’m tired of turning on my internet to hear the latest idiocy from our political class. These people say the most offensive and hurtful things. In a polite society, they’d be told to go pound sand for espousing such bigotry and hate, but we don’t live in a polite society. Not anymore and maybe not ever. No, we worship bullies. We want to be them. We foolishly think that’s real strength. I’m sorry, but when you go to the movies and root for the bad guy, it’s supposed to be a joke. You don’t mistake the villain for the hero. You know which side is which. Too bad real life isn’t working that way.
And I’m sick of all the heartache. Our little congregation has had four funerals in the past year and not a single one of them was easy to accept. Three of four were sudden and unexpected deaths from cancer, with each of the deceased being folks who just six months before their passing seemed perfectly fine and healthy. Each one leaves behind a whole slew of people who loved them whose hearts are breaking. We loved these people: Millie, Don, Suzy, and now Freddie. And now they’re gone. And we who are left behind are still picking up the pieces.
I’m fed up with being broke. I’m sick of being sick (even if my symptoms have improved dramatically since May). I’m tired of my car breaking down every two weeks it seems. I’m tired of being steamrolled in Hearthstone. Even the stupid stuff that doesn’t matter like my games seem to go against me.
There is one consolation in all this. I know I’m not alone.
I’m fed up with being broke. I’m sick of being sick (even if my symptoms have improved dramatically since May). I’m tired of my car breaking down every two weeks it seems. I’m tired of being steamrolled in Hearthstone. Even the stupid stuff that doesn’t matter like my games seem to go against me.
There is one consolation in all this. I know I’m not alone.
It wouldn’t surprise me if my little rant just now could be “copy-pasted” into anyone of your lives. I’d imagine there’s a fair number of people here today who are sick and tired of life coming up short. Who are fed up with hurting. Who are fed up with struggling through. Who look out on the world and see far too much ugliness.
There is one consolation in all this. We are not alone.
Pundits everywhere at utterly baffled by the success of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders on the right and left respectively of our political spectrum. These outsiders are taking the upcoming election by storm. This isn’t hard to figure out. I get it. People are ticked off. People are tired. They’re sick of life running them over. They want something different, radically so. Whether that sentiment is prudent or wise is another matter entirely, but I sure understand what’s behind all this. They want change. They want things fixed. They want life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
But there is one consolation in all this. We are not alone in feeling this way.
These emotions are nothing new. Nor is the fact that the world is screwed up. It’s been screwed up since the dawn of the human race. For all our lauded intelligence and sophistication, we make a mess of things. And people get hurt. People get tired. People get fed up with it.
Our Gospel lesson today is proof of that. We are in what I call jokingly the “Broadway Musical” portion of the Gospel of Luke, the first two chapters where it is not unusual for characters to spontaneously burst into song as though they’re on stage somewhere. This lesson is no exception. Mary goes to visit Elizabeth, the future mother of John the Baptist. After the two exchange greetings, Mary begins to sing. A wonderful piece we know now as the Magnificat.
When I preached on this text a few years ago, I called this song the first punk rock song. Punk, of course, was the musical movement that extended a big obscene gesture at the way of the world (and it was, quite often, obscene). It was angry. Fed up. Frustrated at life. But look at the lyrics of the Magnificat. This is not a happy song. It is angry. It is fed up. It is frustrated at life. Mary wants change. Mary wants things fixed. Mary wants life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
Mary looked to God to deliver on his promise of a redeemer. It is not entirely ironic that God’s answer to that prayer was in her womb.
There is one consolation in all this. We are not alone.
Pundits everywhere at utterly baffled by the success of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders on the right and left respectively of our political spectrum. These outsiders are taking the upcoming election by storm. This isn’t hard to figure out. I get it. People are ticked off. People are tired. They’re sick of life running them over. They want something different, radically so. Whether that sentiment is prudent or wise is another matter entirely, but I sure understand what’s behind all this. They want change. They want things fixed. They want life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
But there is one consolation in all this. We are not alone in feeling this way.
These emotions are nothing new. Nor is the fact that the world is screwed up. It’s been screwed up since the dawn of the human race. For all our lauded intelligence and sophistication, we make a mess of things. And people get hurt. People get tired. People get fed up with it.
Our Gospel lesson today is proof of that. We are in what I call jokingly the “Broadway Musical” portion of the Gospel of Luke, the first two chapters where it is not unusual for characters to spontaneously burst into song as though they’re on stage somewhere. This lesson is no exception. Mary goes to visit Elizabeth, the future mother of John the Baptist. After the two exchange greetings, Mary begins to sing. A wonderful piece we know now as the Magnificat.
When I preached on this text a few years ago, I called this song the first punk rock song. Punk, of course, was the musical movement that extended a big obscene gesture at the way of the world (and it was, quite often, obscene). It was angry. Fed up. Frustrated at life. But look at the lyrics of the Magnificat. This is not a happy song. It is angry. It is fed up. It is frustrated at life. Mary wants change. Mary wants things fixed. Mary wants life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
Mary looked to God to deliver on his promise of a redeemer. It is not entirely ironic that God’s answer to that prayer was in her womb.
It is perhaps one of the greatest tragedies of history that Christianity has become a bastion of tradition and the established order. But that’s not what it was meant to be. Jesus did not come to leave things as they were, to change nothing about the world, to leave it just the same, to not clean up the mess we made. He came to put everything right. He came to change things. He came to fix things. He came to make life work the way it’s supposed to again.
Jesus came because people were fed up. Jesus came because people were hurting. Jesus came because people were dying. Remember how I said that our one consolation is that we not alone in being fed up about things? SO IS GOD.
He’d fed up too. So he sent his son into this world to put things right. Jesus lived, died, and rose again to do exactly that. To bring an end to pain and suffering. To put death under heel. This is whole Christian story. It is not a story of comfortable status quo. It is a radical transformation of the world from what it is to what it was always meant to be.
So as we look to the coming of our Lord, let’s be frustrated. Let’s be tired. Because God is too. He wants the world set right. Christ is his answer. Christ who lived, died, and rose again for you and for the whole world. To bring an end to this mess. And slowly but surely things are being set right. Slowly but surely, the world is righting itself. God has seen to it. Hold on to that hope. It is coming. Amen.
Jesus came because people were fed up. Jesus came because people were hurting. Jesus came because people were dying. Remember how I said that our one consolation is that we not alone in being fed up about things? SO IS GOD.
He’d fed up too. So he sent his son into this world to put things right. Jesus lived, died, and rose again to do exactly that. To bring an end to pain and suffering. To put death under heel. This is whole Christian story. It is not a story of comfortable status quo. It is a radical transformation of the world from what it is to what it was always meant to be.
So as we look to the coming of our Lord, let’s be frustrated. Let’s be tired. Because God is too. He wants the world set right. Christ is his answer. Christ who lived, died, and rose again for you and for the whole world. To bring an end to this mess. And slowly but surely things are being set right. Slowly but surely, the world is righting itself. God has seen to it. Hold on to that hope. It is coming. Amen.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Weekly Devotional for December 13, 2015
Scripture readings: Psalm 80:1-7, Jeremiah 31:31-34 (Appointed for December 17)
"We preach best what we need to learn most."
I used that quote from the 2003 Luther movie on Sunday to describe my task that day. When I stood before the congregation at Canadochly that morning, I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and everything that goes with it: discouragement, weariness, and desperation. I spoke to seeing the light in the darkness, to finding hope and joy in the midst of life's travails, knowing that it was what I, if no one else, needed to hear.
If anything, in the days since, the darkness of my world has gotten more oppressive. The young man, Freddie Kemfort, that I spoke of in my sermon died that afternoon. I've spent most of this week preparing for his funeral and visiting with his wife and two young daughters (ages 3 and 1). My emotions alternate between rage at the unfairness of this mess to empathetic sorrow at what his family must be experiencing to the fear of "what if," knowing that my own beloved wife is only one month younger than Freddie.
So what then do I need to hear today? Is it what you need to hear as well?
It is not coincidental that among the texts appointed in the Daily Lectionary for this week is Jeremiah 31:31-34. This is, of course, one of the many Old Testament prophecies that we Christians interpret as predictive of the coming of Christ Jesus on Christmas. And given that it is the time of Advent before Christmas, such texts are fitting.
But I find its pairing with Psalm 80 to be curiously fitting in another way. Psalm 80 is a lament, a cry of anguish to God about some calamity or misfortune.
And then, as if in answer, come the words of God to Jeremiah.
As I have said in nearly every funeral sermon I have ever preached (and after nearly 15 years of ministry, that's quite a lot), that God does not sit idle while his people are in pain. God is on the move. He is acting to put right what has gone wrong with his world and our lives within it. The Old Covenant to Abraham was the first step of that. I remember well its words.
All too often in our society today, we pretend away our pain in the onslaught of faux Christmas cheer. But Christmas has no meaning without our pain. Our pain is the reason Christmas exists, because it is the reason Christ came. He came to put things right. He came to destroy sin and death and open the way to salvation and eternity for us. He came to fulfill the promises God had made in both the Old and New covenants and from the cross, he cried out "It is finished!"
We like to harp on the "true meaning" of Christmas. Well, this is it. God wins! God is setting the world to right. God has answered the prayers of his people, the deepest longing of a broken world. All made right in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. God wins!
And because of that, so do we.
"We preach best what we need to learn most."
I used that quote from the 2003 Luther movie on Sunday to describe my task that day. When I stood before the congregation at Canadochly that morning, I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and everything that goes with it: discouragement, weariness, and desperation. I spoke to seeing the light in the darkness, to finding hope and joy in the midst of life's travails, knowing that it was what I, if no one else, needed to hear.
If anything, in the days since, the darkness of my world has gotten more oppressive. The young man, Freddie Kemfort, that I spoke of in my sermon died that afternoon. I've spent most of this week preparing for his funeral and visiting with his wife and two young daughters (ages 3 and 1). My emotions alternate between rage at the unfairness of this mess to empathetic sorrow at what his family must be experiencing to the fear of "what if," knowing that my own beloved wife is only one month younger than Freddie.
So what then do I need to hear today? Is it what you need to hear as well?
It is not coincidental that among the texts appointed in the Daily Lectionary for this week is Jeremiah 31:31-34. This is, of course, one of the many Old Testament prophecies that we Christians interpret as predictive of the coming of Christ Jesus on Christmas. And given that it is the time of Advent before Christmas, such texts are fitting.
But I find its pairing with Psalm 80 to be curiously fitting in another way. Psalm 80 is a lament, a cry of anguish to God about some calamity or misfortune.
O Lord God of hosts,These are not the words of some happy camper. These are the words of someone in pain, someone fed up with the trials of life, someone tired of dealing with life's crap. Someone like Freddie's friends and family. Someone like the people at my congregations. Someone like me.
how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers?
You have fed them with the bread of tears,
and given them tears to drink in full measure.
You make us the scorn of our neighbours;
our enemies laugh among themselves.
And then, as if in answer, come the words of God to Jeremiah.
The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah.We know this new covenant. It was a man, God made flesh in the form of an infant born in a stable in Bethlehem 2000 or so years ago.
As I have said in nearly every funeral sermon I have ever preached (and after nearly 15 years of ministry, that's quite a lot), that God does not sit idle while his people are in pain. God is on the move. He is acting to put right what has gone wrong with his world and our lives within it. The Old Covenant to Abraham was the first step of that. I remember well its words.
'and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’ (Genesis 12:3b)That universal blessing came in the New Covenant that Jeremiah predicted. It came in Christ, who lived, died, and rose again for the sake of us all.
All too often in our society today, we pretend away our pain in the onslaught of faux Christmas cheer. But Christmas has no meaning without our pain. Our pain is the reason Christmas exists, because it is the reason Christ came. He came to put things right. He came to destroy sin and death and open the way to salvation and eternity for us. He came to fulfill the promises God had made in both the Old and New covenants and from the cross, he cried out "It is finished!"
We like to harp on the "true meaning" of Christmas. Well, this is it. God wins! God is setting the world to right. God has answered the prayers of his people, the deepest longing of a broken world. All made right in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. God wins!
And because of that, so do we.
Monday, December 14, 2015
Sermon for Gaudete 2015
Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on December 13, 2015
Scripture texts: Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18
I used to have a bumper sticker on my car back when I lived in Davis. It was of a Fredrich Nietzsche quote: “Those who dance are thought mad by those who hear not the music.” It seemed a fitting statement of much of my life, with people looking on with bafflement at my enthusiasm for Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or any of my other geek habits and hobbies. But it’s also a good statement about faith, with atheists and other secularists looking upon all of us with bafflement as we stand in worship of a God-made-man who died on a cross 2000 years ago and, according to our claims, did the impossible thing of rising from the dead.
I love that quote still. It’s a wondrous expression of what it means to believe; that we are a people of joy and hope. That we dance in the darkness because we know the light has come.
That dance is not always easy to sustain. I have spent the last week astonished and disheartened at the unbelievable outpouring of hatred and paranoia from pundits and friends alike, directed at anyone seen as insufficiently American (read Muslims, blacks, gays, immigrants, refugees, etc.) I sat briefly at the bedside of a man my wife’s age, barely skin and bones and dying of cancer.
It is very hard to dance in the midst of all that.
I’ve said that line before in a pulpit much like this one, on the day I preached my beloved grandfather’s funeral 10 years ago. That’s probably not coincidental. We may dance because the light has come, but the darkness seems ever present and at times feels overwhelming. This, for me, is one of those times.
And yet this is Gaudete. This is the Sunday of Joy in the midst of our Advent preparations. The Sunday of pink. St. Paul calls us to rejoice in the Lord always and it is hard when the world seems so dire to follow his directive.
And yet, to use another quote, this one from the 2003 Luther film when Martin Luther is being told he is to go off to study to become a preacher, his mentor tells him “We preach best what we need to learn most.” And perhaps that is my purpose today, to find the joy again in the midst of these dark days.
On Friday night, many in our community gathered together to give out toys so needy families could have a decent Christmas celebration for their children. Last year, we helped 80 families. This year, it was over 40 families and over 100 children. We made a difference in the lives of many.
Thursday after I visited Freddie in the hospital, I raced home. I’ll confess I skipped my office hours that afternoon, because I didn’t want to be alone after what I witnessed. I wanted to hug my wife and daughter. I wanted to be with people, with my family. To cry on their shoulders. To scream my rage at the sky with them. I wanted to know they were there and they were.
Last night, when we were together at our Christmas party, there was a similar spirit. I wanted to know you were there and there you were. It is said that one of the great benefits of the Christian community is how the voice of the many speaks for those who cannot. Last night, we made merry together for those who cannot. We were with one another. Each of us Christ to one another.
When we look to the specifics of John the Baptizer’s teaching in our Gospel lesson, I think this is what it’s about. All of this is about being there for one another and for the world. If you have, give.
And you have given. Many of those toys on Friday came from people in these pews. You and your children and grandchildren gave joy by giving toys that might have otherwise collected dust in an attic or filled up that landfill down the street a ways.
And last night, we gave joy to one another. We feasted and celebrated, even if not all of us were quite in the mood. But that’s okay, because joy has an infectious quality. It spreads.
You know, there’s something utterly defiant about what we do as a Church. When we give to people in need, whatever the need, it’s like we’re screaming out in rage “It is wrong that people live so. That children have no Christmas. That parents have no food or medicine or opportunity. It is wrong that hearts are breaking. This is wrong and we will do something, however small, about it.”
John the Baptizer speaks across the ages, “If you see something wrong, do something about it. Because God is doing something about it. He’s sending his son!”
Because there is the greatest joy of all in this time and all times. The birth of our savior is not some mere historical novelty. The incarnation of Jesus is God’s checkmate against all that is wrong in this world. It’s his endgame. The final step that wins him and all of us the world that is meant to be. God does not stand by idly as the wrongness of our lives beats us down. He’s done something about it. He’s sent Jesus to live, die, and rise again for the sake of this world.
Jesus comes because there is hurt. Jesus comes because there is pain. Jesus comes because there is poverty and bigotry and violence. Jesus comes because there is death. And he comes to put these things right.
Oh, the pieces on God’s chessboard move on his timeline. It seems slow to us, but the game is already won. It’s like we’re in that moment when the defeated player hasn’t quite figured out he’s been outmaneuvered. God has won through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. IT IS FINISHED!
God wins! You know, I’ve used that line a lot in recent weeks. It is quite accurately the proper interpretation, as I’ve said, of the Apocalyptic texts of the Bible. But really, not just them, but all of it. That’s what this day is really about. What this season is really about. No matter how dark things seem in our lives and in our world, God wins.
God has won. Now there’s something to dance to. Amen.
Scripture texts: Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18
I used to have a bumper sticker on my car back when I lived in Davis. It was of a Fredrich Nietzsche quote: “Those who dance are thought mad by those who hear not the music.” It seemed a fitting statement of much of my life, with people looking on with bafflement at my enthusiasm for Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or any of my other geek habits and hobbies. But it’s also a good statement about faith, with atheists and other secularists looking upon all of us with bafflement as we stand in worship of a God-made-man who died on a cross 2000 years ago and, according to our claims, did the impossible thing of rising from the dead.
I love that quote still. It’s a wondrous expression of what it means to believe; that we are a people of joy and hope. That we dance in the darkness because we know the light has come.
That dance is not always easy to sustain. I have spent the last week astonished and disheartened at the unbelievable outpouring of hatred and paranoia from pundits and friends alike, directed at anyone seen as insufficiently American (read Muslims, blacks, gays, immigrants, refugees, etc.) I sat briefly at the bedside of a man my wife’s age, barely skin and bones and dying of cancer.
It is very hard to dance in the midst of all that.
I’ve said that line before in a pulpit much like this one, on the day I preached my beloved grandfather’s funeral 10 years ago. That’s probably not coincidental. We may dance because the light has come, but the darkness seems ever present and at times feels overwhelming. This, for me, is one of those times.
And yet this is Gaudete. This is the Sunday of Joy in the midst of our Advent preparations. The Sunday of pink. St. Paul calls us to rejoice in the Lord always and it is hard when the world seems so dire to follow his directive.
And yet, to use another quote, this one from the 2003 Luther film when Martin Luther is being told he is to go off to study to become a preacher, his mentor tells him “We preach best what we need to learn most.” And perhaps that is my purpose today, to find the joy again in the midst of these dark days.
On Friday night, many in our community gathered together to give out toys so needy families could have a decent Christmas celebration for their children. Last year, we helped 80 families. This year, it was over 40 families and over 100 children. We made a difference in the lives of many.
Thursday after I visited Freddie in the hospital, I raced home. I’ll confess I skipped my office hours that afternoon, because I didn’t want to be alone after what I witnessed. I wanted to hug my wife and daughter. I wanted to be with people, with my family. To cry on their shoulders. To scream my rage at the sky with them. I wanted to know they were there and they were.
Last night, when we were together at our Christmas party, there was a similar spirit. I wanted to know you were there and there you were. It is said that one of the great benefits of the Christian community is how the voice of the many speaks for those who cannot. Last night, we made merry together for those who cannot. We were with one another. Each of us Christ to one another.
When we look to the specifics of John the Baptizer’s teaching in our Gospel lesson, I think this is what it’s about. All of this is about being there for one another and for the world. If you have, give.
And you have given. Many of those toys on Friday came from people in these pews. You and your children and grandchildren gave joy by giving toys that might have otherwise collected dust in an attic or filled up that landfill down the street a ways.
And last night, we gave joy to one another. We feasted and celebrated, even if not all of us were quite in the mood. But that’s okay, because joy has an infectious quality. It spreads.
You know, there’s something utterly defiant about what we do as a Church. When we give to people in need, whatever the need, it’s like we’re screaming out in rage “It is wrong that people live so. That children have no Christmas. That parents have no food or medicine or opportunity. It is wrong that hearts are breaking. This is wrong and we will do something, however small, about it.”
John the Baptizer speaks across the ages, “If you see something wrong, do something about it. Because God is doing something about it. He’s sending his son!”
Because there is the greatest joy of all in this time and all times. The birth of our savior is not some mere historical novelty. The incarnation of Jesus is God’s checkmate against all that is wrong in this world. It’s his endgame. The final step that wins him and all of us the world that is meant to be. God does not stand by idly as the wrongness of our lives beats us down. He’s done something about it. He’s sent Jesus to live, die, and rise again for the sake of this world.
Jesus comes because there is hurt. Jesus comes because there is pain. Jesus comes because there is poverty and bigotry and violence. Jesus comes because there is death. And he comes to put these things right.
Oh, the pieces on God’s chessboard move on his timeline. It seems slow to us, but the game is already won. It’s like we’re in that moment when the defeated player hasn’t quite figured out he’s been outmaneuvered. God has won through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. IT IS FINISHED!
God wins! You know, I’ve used that line a lot in recent weeks. It is quite accurately the proper interpretation, as I’ve said, of the Apocalyptic texts of the Bible. But really, not just them, but all of it. That’s what this day is really about. What this season is really about. No matter how dark things seem in our lives and in our world, God wins.
God has won. Now there’s something to dance to. Amen.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Weekly Devotional for the week of December 6, 2015
Scripture text: 2 Peter 1:2-15
I make no secret that I am often quite political in my writing and proclamation. From where I sit, living as a Christian in a democratic society demands our active participation in the civic life of our society, turning it as best we can to best reflect the Christ we serve and his wishes for his people. We are here to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, speak for the voiceless, and welcome the stranger. We are called to love our neighbor and there are many ways in which we can steer the ship of state to do that by our votes and our voices. (This is, of course, in addition to our proclamation of the Gospel, a task for which the state is particularly unsuited. Luther would agree and I would point to his teachings on the Two Kingdoms as to why.)
That said, however, I am very cautious to make my comments to be about policies, not about people or parties. No single individual or political party best reflects the just world God brings with his kingdom, nor are they meant to. We will never see that perfect world by our own doing; all we can do is come a little closer and create a more just society to benefit as many as possible.
Bearing all this in mind, I am deeply concerned about where our society is moving in recent days. I can no longer be silent, nor can I ignore the fact that these trends are being driven by people with an agenda. A leading Presidential candidate is howling out more and more outrageous and hateful rhetoric about every minority under the sun. The President of a leading Christian university calls upon his student body to arm themselves in order to offer violent retribution against people of the Muslim faith (and yes, I know he clarified his remarks later to point out he was not referring to all Muslims, but the lynch mob spirit surrounding his original remarks make such “clarifications” moot. )
More disturbing by far than these individuals are those who are listening to them. Trump and Falwell tell the people of our country to hate; millions eat it up and many are acting on it. A Philadelphia mosque was vandalized with a decapitated pig. A Muslim taxi driver is shot by his passenger because of his religion. My Facebook wall has become a disheartening place to visit, as people I love and respect are likewise spewing out ugly and bigoted rhetoric against people of all stripes: black, Muslim, immigrant, LGBT, you name it.
It’s no secret that many, if not most, of these people are Christian.
Have we fallen so far into fear that we have forgotten who we are and whose we are? I see nothing that is Christ-like in this hateful language and in those who are listening to it and acting upon it. We are so quick to forget what really matters, to turn our back on Christ and on our faith in the face of an appealing evil. What Trump, Falwell, and others have said may sound good and it may have a certain sick logic to it, but make no mistake, they are speaking EVIL. They are not acting or living in accord with the Christ we serve, regardless of whatever claims they may make otherwise. “By their fruits, you will know them.” (Matt 7:20) The false prophets that Jesus warns us about just a few short verses before that? They are in our midst and on our TV screens and our Internet feeds. Some of them have famous names. Some of them are our friends. But they are leading people astray nonetheless.
It is times like these where the words of St. Peter truly have their impact. As Christians, we are to move closer to Christ, “making every effort to confirm our calling and election.” We do this by goodness, not evil. We do this by knowledge, not ignorance. We do this by self-control, not panic. We do this by perseverance, not surrender to our anger. We do this by trusting God, not our own strength or weaponry. We do this by mutual affection and love, not hatred. This is who we are to be and not this false Christianity of paranoia and hatred.
Peter sees his role as one of “always reminding you of these things.” We need that reminder constantly. It is so easy to fall into the traps of smooth-talking charlatans who tell us lies that sound really good in times of turmoil and uncertainty. Jesus knew such people would be out there and that far too many would fall prey to them. Peter, remembering well his Lord’s warnings, repeats them anew for us. Do not forget who you are. Do not forget what God has done for you in Christ; that he has died and risen again for your salvation. Do not forget the calling of your baptism; that you are to proclaim Christ, his love, his promises in all that you say and do. This is what it means to be Christian. Not what the hate-mongers of our current political climate are selling.
Remember!
I make no secret that I am often quite political in my writing and proclamation. From where I sit, living as a Christian in a democratic society demands our active participation in the civic life of our society, turning it as best we can to best reflect the Christ we serve and his wishes for his people. We are here to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, speak for the voiceless, and welcome the stranger. We are called to love our neighbor and there are many ways in which we can steer the ship of state to do that by our votes and our voices. (This is, of course, in addition to our proclamation of the Gospel, a task for which the state is particularly unsuited. Luther would agree and I would point to his teachings on the Two Kingdoms as to why.)
That said, however, I am very cautious to make my comments to be about policies, not about people or parties. No single individual or political party best reflects the just world God brings with his kingdom, nor are they meant to. We will never see that perfect world by our own doing; all we can do is come a little closer and create a more just society to benefit as many as possible.
Bearing all this in mind, I am deeply concerned about where our society is moving in recent days. I can no longer be silent, nor can I ignore the fact that these trends are being driven by people with an agenda. A leading Presidential candidate is howling out more and more outrageous and hateful rhetoric about every minority under the sun. The President of a leading Christian university calls upon his student body to arm themselves in order to offer violent retribution against people of the Muslim faith (and yes, I know he clarified his remarks later to point out he was not referring to all Muslims, but the lynch mob spirit surrounding his original remarks make such “clarifications” moot. )
More disturbing by far than these individuals are those who are listening to them. Trump and Falwell tell the people of our country to hate; millions eat it up and many are acting on it. A Philadelphia mosque was vandalized with a decapitated pig. A Muslim taxi driver is shot by his passenger because of his religion. My Facebook wall has become a disheartening place to visit, as people I love and respect are likewise spewing out ugly and bigoted rhetoric against people of all stripes: black, Muslim, immigrant, LGBT, you name it.
It’s no secret that many, if not most, of these people are Christian.
Have we fallen so far into fear that we have forgotten who we are and whose we are? I see nothing that is Christ-like in this hateful language and in those who are listening to it and acting upon it. We are so quick to forget what really matters, to turn our back on Christ and on our faith in the face of an appealing evil. What Trump, Falwell, and others have said may sound good and it may have a certain sick logic to it, but make no mistake, they are speaking EVIL. They are not acting or living in accord with the Christ we serve, regardless of whatever claims they may make otherwise. “By their fruits, you will know them.” (Matt 7:20) The false prophets that Jesus warns us about just a few short verses before that? They are in our midst and on our TV screens and our Internet feeds. Some of them have famous names. Some of them are our friends. But they are leading people astray nonetheless.
It is times like these where the words of St. Peter truly have their impact. As Christians, we are to move closer to Christ, “making every effort to confirm our calling and election.” We do this by goodness, not evil. We do this by knowledge, not ignorance. We do this by self-control, not panic. We do this by perseverance, not surrender to our anger. We do this by trusting God, not our own strength or weaponry. We do this by mutual affection and love, not hatred. This is who we are to be and not this false Christianity of paranoia and hatred.
Peter sees his role as one of “always reminding you of these things.” We need that reminder constantly. It is so easy to fall into the traps of smooth-talking charlatans who tell us lies that sound really good in times of turmoil and uncertainty. Jesus knew such people would be out there and that far too many would fall prey to them. Peter, remembering well his Lord’s warnings, repeats them anew for us. Do not forget who you are. Do not forget what God has done for you in Christ; that he has died and risen again for your salvation. Do not forget the calling of your baptism; that you are to proclaim Christ, his love, his promises in all that you say and do. This is what it means to be Christian. Not what the hate-mongers of our current political climate are selling.
Remember!
Monday, December 7, 2015
Sermon for Second Advent
Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on December 6, 2015
Scripture text: Luke 3:1-6
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
I will confess that on the morning I was writing this sermon, I was also listening to the Godspell soundtrack. That musical’s enthusiastic rendering of John the Baptizer’s quotation of Isaiah 40 was a wondrous and welcome contrast to the goings-on in the world over this past week.
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
Escapism has its appeal in these times. Two mass shootings in a single week. Over a dozen innocent people dead. The war against ISIS escalating with Germany and the UK launching their own strikes in the Middle East. Ongoing tension between Russia and Turkey. All this just two or so weeks after the horrific attack in Paris. Violence upon violence.
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
We have a lot of work to do.
A few neo-atheist commentators have been quick to lay the blame for the state of the world at the feet of religion. It’s all our fault they claim, pointing their accusing fingers at the church and the mosque. Normally, I’d dismiss their opinions. It’s easy to mock their commentary when they blurt out “religion sucks” every other sentence.
But the truth is, they’re right, but not in the way they think. Things are the way they are not because religion has done its job, but because it hasn’t.
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
That’s what we haven’t been doing. We’ve let ourselves become distracted. We’ve let ourselves become self-absorbed. And we’ve forgotten what we are here for.
It may be blasphemous to some for me to say this, but abortion is not important. Gay marriage does not matter. “Merry Christmas” vs. “Happy Holidays” and other “War on Christmas” nonsense is just that: nonsense. It was NEVER the job of the Church to be the Morality Police of society. Our job has always been to tell the world out there that Christ loves them, that Christ died for them, that Christ rose again for them. Our job is to show people just how precious they are to the one who created all things. Our job is to show people that they matter, that they are valued, that their lives count for something.
That is what we are supposed to be about. And that is precisely what we’ve been failing to do. We see the dividends of it on the news every night.
I get the anger. I’ve said it before. I get it. Our society promises a bill of goods it never intends to deliver. Work hard and the world will be yours. And then people work hard to barely survive, let alone succeed. Always one setback away from disaster. How many people out there are a single missed paycheck away from foreclosure or bankruptcy? How many in here?
Is it any wonder then that people are lining up behind demagogues who make no effort to hide their bigotry and misogyny? Is it any wonder that people are taking guns into public places to murder anyone and everyone they can find in blind senseless rage? This world tears people apart and the one voice that could matter most, the one voice that could make a difference, the one voice that could tell these folks there is a better way, is all too often silent.
Or worse. Before God will love you, you have to do X, Y, and Z. Before God will save you, you have to do this or that thing. That sounds familiar. Work hard and the world will be yours. You know that old cliche about “Fool me once...” Yeah, that.
But that’s not how it works. God’s love doesn’t need to be earned. We don’t have to prove anything to the Almighty to earn his favor. He already loves each and every person beyond words. He fashioned each and every one of us from base elements of his creation, the very stuff of stars, “fearfully and wonderfully made” according to the Psalmist. Each one unique. Each one different. He gave us minds to think and hearts to feel. And he set us in this world and surrounded us with wonder and beauty unimaginable.
And as if that was not enough, he came himself into this world, incarnate of a virgin. He lived our life, as a human being. He taught us his ways, showed us his love in open invitation and in healing touch. And at the last he went to the cross and proclaimed to all “This is how much you matter. I, the creator of all things, will die for your sake.”
That story, that truth, is our legacy, our inheritance. It’s true for us. We are loved. We are precious. And it’s true for everyone out there. They are loved. They are precious. And it’s our job to show them that.
As I stand here, all across our country there are conversations happening about what to do about our society’s problems. Some are saying more laws, fewer guns. Some are saying fewer laws, more guns. Some are saying more prisons. Some are saying more surveillance. Some are saying more money for mental health. Those solutions, however well intended, will not fix this. Some of them might mitigate things a bit, others might make things worse. But none will solve the simple fact that people no longer feel like they matter. There’s a better way. God’s way.
At this time of year, you hear people go on and on about putting “Christ back in Christmas.” A noble goal, but there’s a better one. It’s high time we put Christ back in Christianity. It’s high time we remembered what we’re here for. We’re here to prepare the way of the Lord. We’re here to show the world how much they matter. God died for them and rose again on the third day. Our job is show them that truth. Amen.
Scripture text: Luke 3:1-6
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
I will confess that on the morning I was writing this sermon, I was also listening to the Godspell soundtrack. That musical’s enthusiastic rendering of John the Baptizer’s quotation of Isaiah 40 was a wondrous and welcome contrast to the goings-on in the world over this past week.
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
Escapism has its appeal in these times. Two mass shootings in a single week. Over a dozen innocent people dead. The war against ISIS escalating with Germany and the UK launching their own strikes in the Middle East. Ongoing tension between Russia and Turkey. All this just two or so weeks after the horrific attack in Paris. Violence upon violence.
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
We have a lot of work to do.
A few neo-atheist commentators have been quick to lay the blame for the state of the world at the feet of religion. It’s all our fault they claim, pointing their accusing fingers at the church and the mosque. Normally, I’d dismiss their opinions. It’s easy to mock their commentary when they blurt out “religion sucks” every other sentence.
But the truth is, they’re right, but not in the way they think. Things are the way they are not because religion has done its job, but because it hasn’t.
Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord...
That’s what we haven’t been doing. We’ve let ourselves become distracted. We’ve let ourselves become self-absorbed. And we’ve forgotten what we are here for.
It may be blasphemous to some for me to say this, but abortion is not important. Gay marriage does not matter. “Merry Christmas” vs. “Happy Holidays” and other “War on Christmas” nonsense is just that: nonsense. It was NEVER the job of the Church to be the Morality Police of society. Our job has always been to tell the world out there that Christ loves them, that Christ died for them, that Christ rose again for them. Our job is to show people just how precious they are to the one who created all things. Our job is to show people that they matter, that they are valued, that their lives count for something.
That is what we are supposed to be about. And that is precisely what we’ve been failing to do. We see the dividends of it on the news every night.
I get the anger. I’ve said it before. I get it. Our society promises a bill of goods it never intends to deliver. Work hard and the world will be yours. And then people work hard to barely survive, let alone succeed. Always one setback away from disaster. How many people out there are a single missed paycheck away from foreclosure or bankruptcy? How many in here?
Is it any wonder then that people are lining up behind demagogues who make no effort to hide their bigotry and misogyny? Is it any wonder that people are taking guns into public places to murder anyone and everyone they can find in blind senseless rage? This world tears people apart and the one voice that could matter most, the one voice that could make a difference, the one voice that could tell these folks there is a better way, is all too often silent.
Or worse. Before God will love you, you have to do X, Y, and Z. Before God will save you, you have to do this or that thing. That sounds familiar. Work hard and the world will be yours. You know that old cliche about “Fool me once...” Yeah, that.
But that’s not how it works. God’s love doesn’t need to be earned. We don’t have to prove anything to the Almighty to earn his favor. He already loves each and every person beyond words. He fashioned each and every one of us from base elements of his creation, the very stuff of stars, “fearfully and wonderfully made” according to the Psalmist. Each one unique. Each one different. He gave us minds to think and hearts to feel. And he set us in this world and surrounded us with wonder and beauty unimaginable.
And as if that was not enough, he came himself into this world, incarnate of a virgin. He lived our life, as a human being. He taught us his ways, showed us his love in open invitation and in healing touch. And at the last he went to the cross and proclaimed to all “This is how much you matter. I, the creator of all things, will die for your sake.”
That story, that truth, is our legacy, our inheritance. It’s true for us. We are loved. We are precious. And it’s true for everyone out there. They are loved. They are precious. And it’s our job to show them that.
As I stand here, all across our country there are conversations happening about what to do about our society’s problems. Some are saying more laws, fewer guns. Some are saying fewer laws, more guns. Some are saying more prisons. Some are saying more surveillance. Some are saying more money for mental health. Those solutions, however well intended, will not fix this. Some of them might mitigate things a bit, others might make things worse. But none will solve the simple fact that people no longer feel like they matter. There’s a better way. God’s way.
At this time of year, you hear people go on and on about putting “Christ back in Christmas.” A noble goal, but there’s a better one. It’s high time we put Christ back in Christianity. It’s high time we remembered what we’re here for. We’re here to prepare the way of the Lord. We’re here to show the world how much they matter. God died for them and rose again on the third day. Our job is show them that truth. Amen.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Sermon for First Advent
Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on November 29, 2015
Scripture: Luke 21:25-36
God wins!
We get our third week straight of Apocalyptic Scripture texts and there is a certain temptation for me on this vacation week to make those two words not just the beginning of my sermon, but the whole thing. I had a seminary professor who did that once. His whole sermon: one sentence long.
It’s not a bad idea. These words are true and they are an accurate reflection of the Scripture readings before us, but the dilemma I spoke about last week remains. It is easy to say it, easy to understand it, but believing it is often something else entirely.
This has been far from an uneventful week as I rested and recreated (mostly by pretending to be a Jedi Knight in a Star Wars computer game). Those of you who read my devotional blog heard about things back in Davis, WV. My friend Chris was badly burned after a hunting accident. My friend Betsy, whom you met when her husband preached my installation three years ago, announced that she has cancer. My friend Don passed away after a long and fruitful life.
Reflecting on Don’s impact on my life brought to remembrance that weekend 11 years ago when it felt like my whole life was falling apart. The death of a beloved pet, the announcement of major surgery, and slow suffering of my dying grandfather all at once. We somewhat jokingly refer to bad news coming in threes and these two examples from my life are certainly no exception. But I got to wondering. How many times has it seemed in my life that the world was ending?
And perhaps, for our purposes today, it would be good for all of us to ask that question. How many times has the world ended for you?
It’s easy to answer that question somewhat flippantly. I know I’ve joked about how I’ve survived Y2K and the Mayan Apocalypse of 2012 and more than one of the late Harold Camping’s predictions of the last day. More than one blood moon too. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about those times when everything went wrong. I’m talking about those times when we wondered how we would go on. I’m talking about those times when OUR world seemed to be coming to an end.
I lose count of the number. When my first love walked away. When my grandfather did die. When I lost my home in the financial crisis. When I, in this very room just six months ago, could barely stand up because of the pain. And what about you? That time when your spouse or sibling or parent or child died? That time when you lost your job and didn’t know what you were going to do next? That time when someone broke your heart? That time when you heard that dread diagnosis? Any or all of the above?
It may seem macabre to remember such times, but they do serve a purpose for us. As nightmarish as they were, we are still here. We got through it. And we didn’t do it alone. In the midst of all our worst moments in life, all the times when it seemed our world was ending, God was there.
There is a particular formula in the Old Testament when God introduces himself or makes some grand pronouncement. When Connie and I were studying Genesis and Exodus together in my Friday Bible Study, we noted how often it showed up. God would say something to the effect of “I am the God who brought you out of the land of Egypt...”
There’s a very pragmatic reason God does that. Past is prelude. If God was there for us in the past when life got hard, how much more so will he be with us in the midst of whatever we might face tomorrow.
God wins! When we read Apocalyptic texts like Daniel or Revelation or even our passage from Luke this morning, it’s easier to believe that when we remember all the times he’s won before. Jesus is not speaking in isolation here. When he talks about “redemption” and the “kingdom of God” drawing near, his words have impact because they are building upon generations of God’s work in this world. And one doesn’t even need to be a student of history to see that. All one has to do is look at their own lives.
Each one of us, in our own way, has been through hell. Whether it was the hell of disease, heartbreak, financial trouble, death, or whatever, it matters little. But in the midst of our hells, God was there. As we proclaim in our creed, Christ “descended into hell.” He came to be where we were and where we are, so we would not have to face life alone. And proof of that is before us. We’re still here. We made it through. As hard as it was, we made it.
God wins. He wins and he gives us that victory. As the season of Advent dawns upon us this week and we light the first candle as a symbol of “light in the darkness,” let us remember all the times when God stood by us in the midst of our darkest hour. This is the season of hope and hope is easy when we remember that God will not forsake us. Not then, not now, and now ever. Amen.
Scripture: Luke 21:25-36
God wins!
We get our third week straight of Apocalyptic Scripture texts and there is a certain temptation for me on this vacation week to make those two words not just the beginning of my sermon, but the whole thing. I had a seminary professor who did that once. His whole sermon: one sentence long.
It’s not a bad idea. These words are true and they are an accurate reflection of the Scripture readings before us, but the dilemma I spoke about last week remains. It is easy to say it, easy to understand it, but believing it is often something else entirely.
This has been far from an uneventful week as I rested and recreated (mostly by pretending to be a Jedi Knight in a Star Wars computer game). Those of you who read my devotional blog heard about things back in Davis, WV. My friend Chris was badly burned after a hunting accident. My friend Betsy, whom you met when her husband preached my installation three years ago, announced that she has cancer. My friend Don passed away after a long and fruitful life.
Reflecting on Don’s impact on my life brought to remembrance that weekend 11 years ago when it felt like my whole life was falling apart. The death of a beloved pet, the announcement of major surgery, and slow suffering of my dying grandfather all at once. We somewhat jokingly refer to bad news coming in threes and these two examples from my life are certainly no exception. But I got to wondering. How many times has it seemed in my life that the world was ending?
And perhaps, for our purposes today, it would be good for all of us to ask that question. How many times has the world ended for you?
It’s easy to answer that question somewhat flippantly. I know I’ve joked about how I’ve survived Y2K and the Mayan Apocalypse of 2012 and more than one of the late Harold Camping’s predictions of the last day. More than one blood moon too. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about those times when everything went wrong. I’m talking about those times when we wondered how we would go on. I’m talking about those times when OUR world seemed to be coming to an end.
I lose count of the number. When my first love walked away. When my grandfather did die. When I lost my home in the financial crisis. When I, in this very room just six months ago, could barely stand up because of the pain. And what about you? That time when your spouse or sibling or parent or child died? That time when you lost your job and didn’t know what you were going to do next? That time when someone broke your heart? That time when you heard that dread diagnosis? Any or all of the above?
It may seem macabre to remember such times, but they do serve a purpose for us. As nightmarish as they were, we are still here. We got through it. And we didn’t do it alone. In the midst of all our worst moments in life, all the times when it seemed our world was ending, God was there.
There is a particular formula in the Old Testament when God introduces himself or makes some grand pronouncement. When Connie and I were studying Genesis and Exodus together in my Friday Bible Study, we noted how often it showed up. God would say something to the effect of “I am the God who brought you out of the land of Egypt...”
There’s a very pragmatic reason God does that. Past is prelude. If God was there for us in the past when life got hard, how much more so will he be with us in the midst of whatever we might face tomorrow.
God wins! When we read Apocalyptic texts like Daniel or Revelation or even our passage from Luke this morning, it’s easier to believe that when we remember all the times he’s won before. Jesus is not speaking in isolation here. When he talks about “redemption” and the “kingdom of God” drawing near, his words have impact because they are building upon generations of God’s work in this world. And one doesn’t even need to be a student of history to see that. All one has to do is look at their own lives.
Each one of us, in our own way, has been through hell. Whether it was the hell of disease, heartbreak, financial trouble, death, or whatever, it matters little. But in the midst of our hells, God was there. As we proclaim in our creed, Christ “descended into hell.” He came to be where we were and where we are, so we would not have to face life alone. And proof of that is before us. We’re still here. We made it through. As hard as it was, we made it.
God wins. He wins and he gives us that victory. As the season of Advent dawns upon us this week and we light the first candle as a symbol of “light in the darkness,” let us remember all the times when God stood by us in the midst of our darkest hour. This is the season of hope and hope is easy when we remember that God will not forsake us. Not then, not now, and now ever. Amen.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Weekly Devotional for November 30, 2015
Scripture text: Luke 11:29-32 (Appointed for Wednesday, December 2)
Ah, Jonah.
I am often guilty of saying this or that text of Scripture is one of my favorites, so much so that it becomes easier to count the ones I do not consider favorites than the ones that are. But if I were to rank my favorite texts in much the same way the music industry does pop songs, the book of Jonah would easily rank in the top 5.
There’s a reason for that. Jonah is a lot more than the old fish story we heard as kids. Jonah is a complex man, painfully human and a product of the times in which he lived. He’s rather unique in that among all of the prophets, apostles, liberators, and disciples we read about in both the Old and New Testaments, in that he’s probably the only one who does NOT want God’s will to be done.
It’s the whole reason he flees across the sea to begin with. He’s not afraid of death nor is he lazy. He simply does not want God to forgive the people of the Assyrian Empire. He knows that if the Assyrians of Nineveh repent, God will forgive and God will spare them. He doesn’t want that; He wants the Assyrians to burn, so he runs away, hoping he can run out God’s clock and force the hand of the Almighty.
Of course, God is not so easily tricked, Jonah does end up in Nineveh after his episode with the fish, the people do repent, and God does forgive. It works out the way God intended all along.
In today’s passage, Jesus references this story to highlight the willingness of the foreign Ninevites to submit to God’s will, contrasting these people of history with the stubbornness of the religious authorities of his own people in his own time. It’s not a pretty picture.
So what does this have to do with us today?
We Christians like to think of ourselves as responsive to God’s will. But often times we are Jonah and we are the Pharisees and scribes of Jesus’ day, using our piety to mask our disgust at God’s willingness to embrace those we reject. I hear the howls of angry people, often Christians, against those of other races, religions, political backgrounds, etc. I hear words of hate and condemnation for those who are different. Worse still, I see these things on an increase in these difficult days.
And then I see atheists and non-believers stepping up to feed the hungry, care for the sick, and welcome the stranger and I wonder if Jesus were here with us today if he wouldn’t speak these same words to this “wicked generation.” The sign of Jonah condemns us as well.
It doesn’t need to be that way. As God says to Jonah at the conclusion of his book, “Should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people?” If God cares for the foreigner and all those who are different from ourselves by race, religion, political affiliation or whatever, shouldn’t we? If we are followers of Christ and Christ came to save sinners of every tribe and race (Rev 7:9), should we not follow his example? Showing love rather than hate? Cooling our anger and our fears to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed even to those we might have previously rejected?
Being a Christian is not meant to be easy. In fact, I’d argue that if your faith leaves you nice and comfortable in your prejudices and preconceptions about people, you’re doing it wrong. The faith of Christ is an active thing; it drives us out into the world to confront and to comfort those who are different than us with a word of hope that we ourselves have received. We are not called to stew in our own malice and perceptions of pious self-superiority; we are called to proclaim the good news to a world that desperately needs it.
So get busy.
---
Post Script...
I submitted this blog post yesterday just hours before news broke of the horrific shooting in California. I cannot help but think that these nightmarish events that occur with terrifying frequency in our society today are proof of the desperate need for the Church to be the Church.
I have seen a number of commentators point out that the core of the problem behind this violence is first and foremost our culture. I could not agree more; we simply do not take care of one another the way other nations and societies do. We gripe and complain that providing even the most basic necessities for life to those less fortunate is a drain. No wonder the desperate see violence as their only outlet. If they didn't have guns, they'd use knives, swords, or some other weapon, but violence would still be their response because we won't listen to them any other way.
Additionally, we stand around and complain when no one does anything about the problems of crime, violence, and poverty. My response is "What are you waiting for?"
It's long past time that we stop leaving all this to "somebody else." It's long past time we stopped ignoring our brothers and sisters (at best) or denigrating them (at worst).
I stand by what I said above. This isn't going to be comfortable or easy. But if you want to stop the killing and stop the hating, step up and start doing something. It won't happen any other way.
Ah, Jonah.
I am often guilty of saying this or that text of Scripture is one of my favorites, so much so that it becomes easier to count the ones I do not consider favorites than the ones that are. But if I were to rank my favorite texts in much the same way the music industry does pop songs, the book of Jonah would easily rank in the top 5.
There’s a reason for that. Jonah is a lot more than the old fish story we heard as kids. Jonah is a complex man, painfully human and a product of the times in which he lived. He’s rather unique in that among all of the prophets, apostles, liberators, and disciples we read about in both the Old and New Testaments, in that he’s probably the only one who does NOT want God’s will to be done.
It’s the whole reason he flees across the sea to begin with. He’s not afraid of death nor is he lazy. He simply does not want God to forgive the people of the Assyrian Empire. He knows that if the Assyrians of Nineveh repent, God will forgive and God will spare them. He doesn’t want that; He wants the Assyrians to burn, so he runs away, hoping he can run out God’s clock and force the hand of the Almighty.
Of course, God is not so easily tricked, Jonah does end up in Nineveh after his episode with the fish, the people do repent, and God does forgive. It works out the way God intended all along.
In today’s passage, Jesus references this story to highlight the willingness of the foreign Ninevites to submit to God’s will, contrasting these people of history with the stubbornness of the religious authorities of his own people in his own time. It’s not a pretty picture.
So what does this have to do with us today?
We Christians like to think of ourselves as responsive to God’s will. But often times we are Jonah and we are the Pharisees and scribes of Jesus’ day, using our piety to mask our disgust at God’s willingness to embrace those we reject. I hear the howls of angry people, often Christians, against those of other races, religions, political backgrounds, etc. I hear words of hate and condemnation for those who are different. Worse still, I see these things on an increase in these difficult days.
And then I see atheists and non-believers stepping up to feed the hungry, care for the sick, and welcome the stranger and I wonder if Jesus were here with us today if he wouldn’t speak these same words to this “wicked generation.” The sign of Jonah condemns us as well.
It doesn’t need to be that way. As God says to Jonah at the conclusion of his book, “Should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people?” If God cares for the foreigner and all those who are different from ourselves by race, religion, political affiliation or whatever, shouldn’t we? If we are followers of Christ and Christ came to save sinners of every tribe and race (Rev 7:9), should we not follow his example? Showing love rather than hate? Cooling our anger and our fears to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed even to those we might have previously rejected?
Being a Christian is not meant to be easy. In fact, I’d argue that if your faith leaves you nice and comfortable in your prejudices and preconceptions about people, you’re doing it wrong. The faith of Christ is an active thing; it drives us out into the world to confront and to comfort those who are different than us with a word of hope that we ourselves have received. We are not called to stew in our own malice and perceptions of pious self-superiority; we are called to proclaim the good news to a world that desperately needs it.
So get busy.
---
Post Script...
I submitted this blog post yesterday just hours before news broke of the horrific shooting in California. I cannot help but think that these nightmarish events that occur with terrifying frequency in our society today are proof of the desperate need for the Church to be the Church.
I have seen a number of commentators point out that the core of the problem behind this violence is first and foremost our culture. I could not agree more; we simply do not take care of one another the way other nations and societies do. We gripe and complain that providing even the most basic necessities for life to those less fortunate is a drain. No wonder the desperate see violence as their only outlet. If they didn't have guns, they'd use knives, swords, or some other weapon, but violence would still be their response because we won't listen to them any other way.
Additionally, we stand around and complain when no one does anything about the problems of crime, violence, and poverty. My response is "What are you waiting for?"
It's long past time that we stop leaving all this to "somebody else." It's long past time we stopped ignoring our brothers and sisters (at best) or denigrating them (at worst).
I stand by what I said above. This isn't going to be comfortable or easy. But if you want to stop the killing and stop the hating, step up and start doing something. It won't happen any other way.
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