Merry Christmas! Peace and blessings to you in this season of celebration.
As we approach the New Year, Matthew's Gospel takes us right back to how harsh this world can be at times. But God works even in the darkness. The life of Jesus comes as a challenge to the worldly powers. Here is the manuscript from the sermon preached on December 29, 2013 - the first Sunday after Christmas.
Matthew 2:13-23
13Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." 14Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, 15and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, "Out of Egypt I have called my son."
16When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. 17Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:
18"A voice was heard in Ramah,
wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled, because they are no more."
19When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child's life are dead. 21Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. 22But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. 23There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, "He will be called a Nazorean."
“Jesus changes things…forever”
The rage of Herod and the death of children are not the way to celebrate Christmas. Here we are just days from the wonder of the manger and the joy of the birth of Jesus - the celebratory hymns, the reflective candlelight, the peace of Christmas Eve. Today’s story from Matthew comes as a rude awakening. It arrives too soon.
Without our permission we are rushed back to reality where death and madness creep along in the shadows of life. Even small-town Fredericksburg cannot remain untouched by violence. The boarded-up windows of the shot-out Valero station on Adams street stands as sharp reminder that we are not immune to how harsh the world can be at times. We return to our newspapers and to the evening news on TV where the first segment is normally filled with bad news. Back to the grind. The soft light of Christmas seems to have faded away into another life.
Matthew does not waste any time in his Gospel returning to the brutal reality of his day. While we do not know how much time actually passes between the birth of Jesus and the visit of the Magi - Matthew estimates that it was a couple of years - the narrative time moves quickly. The magi come looking for the new born king. Herod, troubled by this news, tries to find the child by means of deceit. The gifts are given. Dreams and warnings come to Joseph and the magi. Both parties slip quietly out of town. Herod explodes in a fit of rage.
What follows is a brutal story. Matthew tells us that Herod gives an order to slaughter any male child in Bethlehem and the surrounding region who were two years old and younger. While terrible, this act is not out of character for Herod. He is known for other such despicable acts as killing three of his sons. Caesar Augustus himself is rumored to have said, “"It is safer to be a pig in a parent's household than to be a son in Herod's court.” Not very high praise. But Herod did not seem to care about this bit of bad press. Herod was interested in maintaining his control. And he did so at all costs.
Herod was a puppet king for Rome. He was given permission by the empire to rule the people of Judea. He took the title king for himself when he came into power. Though Herod practiced Judaism, he was not considered a Jew by most Jews of his day, and was an outsider to the people he ruled. Herod ruled with an iron fist and did all he could to protect his self-claimed kingship. And this is why he reacts so violently to the birth of Jesus.
When Herod catches wind of the birth of Jesus, hailed the king of the Jews, he is greatly troubled. Anyone who would dared to call themselves king was a threat to Herod’s power. It mattered not to Herod that the king was only a child, the threat was real and Herod’s power was in jeopardy. So Herod does what those in power do, he attempted to eliminate the threat. That’s how power works. Once you gain power, there is a relentless need to maintain that power. And it comes at all costs.
While this violent story may be a turn-off in this season of Christmas, it is critical for us to listen to and acknowledge. Herod is just an example of how the powers of this world react to a challenge of their power, of which Jesus is the ultimate. Here I speak of what the New Testaments writers called the “powers and principalities.” While I cannot give a full treatment of the subject here, a brief summary would help.
We can think of the powers in terms of an image or an institution. A king is an image of power. Kingship is bigger than one man. Herod was a king, but the image of king survives his reign. Once he claimed the title of King, Herod had to play by the rules of king - he had to look and act like a king - or suffer the consequences. The presidency is an image. The office of the president is bigger than one person. The office is bigger than George W. Bush, it’s bigger than Barack Obama. Once elected, one must play by the rules of the president. Our elected officials are a great example of the exhausting cycle of protecting power - they work for a few days and spend the rest of their terms campaigning for the next election. That’s why we have campaign that last three years. This is how worldly power works. And it’s fallen and broken because it does not recognize its vocation to serve God and God’s creation. This is why the life of Jesus is so important.
Matthew shows us that Jesus changes things. His life changes everything.
What unfolds in Matthew’s story of Jesus is how the life and ministry of Jesus is a challenge those in power. If the story were about the death of Jesus, solely about his death, then Matthew could have ended the story here. If the death of Jesus was all that was needed, then Herod could have saved Matthew a great deal of time and paper. He could have saved the followers of Jesus a great deal of pain and anxiety. But this story is not about the death of Jesus, it’s about how he lived - how he still lives in us. The life of Jesus, the love of God incarnate, is a challenge to the powers of this world. And his life belongs to us who follow in his footsteps.
The life of Jesus was about engaging the broken power structures of his day. His acts of healing reached beyond the corrupt temple complex and those who were in charge. Jesus dared to heal on the sabbath, eat with those labeled as unclean, and forgive sins. He was labeled as a glutton, drunkard, and a friend of tax collectors and sinners by those in power. He showed the world what following God’s call to community life really looked. A life of wholeness for all people. His life shocked those he encountered and offended those who were comfortable with the ways things were - the status quo. His life lead to the cross, to the only way that earthly power knows how to deal with a threat. The life of Jesus, ultimately leads to his death. But even in death, God’s power cannot be defeated. Jesus is raised as a statement to those in power that their unchallenged reign has ended. God’s new life for the world through Christ works in us and through us to usher in God’s kingdom of mercy and forgiveness. This is the life we are called to as followers of Jesus.
We are no strangers to the reality that Matthew points us to this morning, the violence in our world. the “new normal” of gun violence in schools is a constant reminder that the most vulnerable in our midst are still our children. Those of power in this world still argue endlessly about the proper way to govern, but when we peal back the thin veil of critical words we find Herod’s slaughter all over again. It seems that those who lead would rather kill each other with words than address the hunger, poverty, violence, and death that threaten to overwhelm us all. In a sense, not all that much has changed when it comes to power in this world. Nothing has changed except Jesus still changes everything with his love. The example of his life is still a beacon of hope to all who sojourn through this world.
The life of Jesus shows us true power. Power that loves, sacrifices, heals, and reaches beyond itself for the good of another. This way of life continually calls us into the promised future of God’s kingdom. Through Christ we are given the ultimate display of how power was and is always meant to work on the behalf of the other, and not for selfish gain.
As we approach a new year there are many possibilities that entice us from the horizon. Our call as children of God and followers of Christ point to a clear way to engage the world. Let us humbly go forward in love. Let us leave the fear of Herod where it belongs, on a broken thrown. Let us move out into the world with the power of God. The power of peace, mercy, and love.
Be assured, people of God, that God goes with us into the future. As we begin a new year let move out into our community with the confidence that God is already at work here among us. Let us be a witness to the powers of what God’s kingdom can look like in this world.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Right Where God Chooses to Be
Merry Christmas! May God continue to bless you during this season of celebration.
Here is the manuscript from the sermon I preached on Christmas Eve. The Gospel is Luke 2:1-14.
Luke 2:1-14
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
Merry Christmas! The day of so much wonder and joy has finally arrived. We have waged through another busy season of black fridays and cyber mondays and endless commercials involving Santa Claus selling all makes and models of cars imaginable. We have made it to the eve of wonder when we finally have a chance to sing our favorite Christmas songs, light candles to “Silent Night,” and gather around the manger to hear the old familiar tale of the nativity once more.
We know this story. The story of the first Christmas - the story of the birth of Jesus, the Messiah, the savior of the world. We tell it every year. We remember it on our front lawns with plastic figurines and lights. We act it out in the back parking lot of Bethany with people and live animals through our annual Christmas journey. For those of us who look forward to it, because its a reminder of our childhoods, we get to hear Linus tell Charlie Brown and the whole world the meaning of Christmas, using the very words we got to hear again tonight. We know this story. We have been telling it for two thousand years. We’re pretty good at it by now.
We know the characters. Worn out Mary and Joseph, tired from their journey. Baby Jesus, hopefully resting peacefully, in the manger. The army of angels who come out of heaven in flash-mob style to surprise a rag tag bunch of shepherds who are out in the fields at work. They’re all there, Hallmark card perfect. The snapshot of the season.
But wait. A character is missing - or perhaps he was never invited to the party. Luke would definitely miss him if we left him out of the picture. He is the first character Luke mentions in his story of the birth of Jesus. Old Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor who dominates the first part of the story this evening. The man who calls the world to attention with an ordered census. For Luke, he is a key player in the story of Jesus’ birth. In the first movement of the story, Caesar’s call to register is mentioned four times. The birth of Jesus is pushed into the last line. This is an important part of the story because it sets the whole narrative in motion. Perhaps Caesar is worth a closer look this evening as we hear the familiar Christmas story one more time.
Caesar Augustus - son of God - savior of the world - divine high priest - that’s how Luke knew him. That was who was in charge when Jesus came screaming into this world. Caesar Augustus was the one who united a divided Rome and established a reign that was suppose to last forever. Augustus was the center of the Roman world, and his image and name were every where. Rome was the ultimate propaganda machine. As you traveled around the empire you knew exactly who was in charge. The Romans even reset the calendar for Augustus. We know the first month of their new year by the name August today. I dare say that if Rome could have reached into the heavens to reorder the stars to proclaim the divinity of Caesar Augustus - they would have.
There is an archway in Ephesus, Turkey, an ancient billboard if you will.
This billboard reads “Emperor Caesar - Divine Augustus - High Priest.” Bold words. Audacious words. Elsewhere in Roman literature Augustus is celebrated as the son of god - he was called the savior of the world. His life is told as the gospel - the good news, or good tidings - to the Roman world. Caesar Augustus was the man in charge when Jesus was born. And he ruled with an iron fist.
The time of Augustus was celebrated as a time of peace, the infamous “pax romana” - the Roman peace. But it was a peace through violence. Peace through military victory. A peace that held everything in check with the threat of death. A peace that was no peace at all to most of the Roman world. It was this peace that ordered Joseph and Mary from their home to Bethlehem to take part in a census that was meant to number people for tax and military purposes. This was a census to control the world. To remind the world that Caesar was in charge. To maintain the status quo. It was into this mess, the chaos of fallen power, that God chose to be present in our world.
The crazy thing about this story, about the missing character Caesar Augustus, is that his mighty, oppressive census becomes an avenue for the power of God. Right into our midst, right into the mess of the world, God chooses to be present. God turns Caesar’s census into an opportunity to introduce divine love into the world. In Luke’s story, woven into the fabric of the narrative, is the good news that God is the one who is actually in charge. God is in control - not Caesar. It’s a subversive claim by Luke. Right under the nose of Caesar Augustus - who is called son of god, high priest, savior, the one who brings peace and good news - comes baby Jesus. If these titles sound familiar it’s because we heard all of them in Luke’s story of the birth of Jesus. Jesus is the true son of God, high priest, and savior. Jesus is in charge - not Caesar. He is the one who brings true peace and his life is good news all people - the whole world.
That’s the radical message of the Christmas story - that Christ comes to us, not in a blaze of glory, but in the humility of a baby, born to a peasant girl in ancient Palestine. Jesus came into the world, not on a throne of power, removed from the joy and pain of everyday life, but on the margins of life, right where our lives unfold. Jesus came into the world as a bold statement that God was not ok with the way things were. He came into the world not as a quick fix, but as a game changer. He loved the world so deeply. He reached out to those in need, hung out with all the wrong people. Healing the sick. Speaking good news to the poor. Turning over the tables of a broken system of power - telling everyone up to their neck in sin that God was not out for vengeance and death but for a relationship grounded in love and forgiveness.
This is our story. The story of God’s love for the world. At its heart, the Christmas story is about God, who made the world, called it good, saw it broken, and walked right into the thick of our mess. Caesar Augustus is surely dead, we can see his great reign fading in the crumbling marble of long gone cities, but the fallen power of empire and death still runs rampant in this world. Hate and death still plague us, sometimes at a distance, sometimes within arms reach, but it’s here all the same. Last week I watched a 2013 year-in-review video on one of the morning shows. I normally don't watch such things, but I got pulled in. After five minutes I was worn out by all of the highs and lows of 2013 and was left thinking that the world needs more messages that point to God’s love. We are people capable of incredible love, and incredible destruction. And that’s right where God chooses to be. The birth of Christ does not wait until it’s safe. Jesus is born for us here and now, right in the midst of our joy and pain. He is born again for us tonight in bread and wine, gifts of God’s kingdom. A foretaste of God’s abundance. Nourishment for God’s children as we head back out to share the good news.
We know this story, this Christmas story. It’s a story so old and familiar, yet so new and surprising. It is our story. It’s a story of hope. A story of love. A reminder that God is indeed with us on our journeys through this world.
Here is the manuscript from the sermon I preached on Christmas Eve. The Gospel is Luke 2:1-14.
Luke 2:1-14
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
Merry Christmas! The day of so much wonder and joy has finally arrived. We have waged through another busy season of black fridays and cyber mondays and endless commercials involving Santa Claus selling all makes and models of cars imaginable. We have made it to the eve of wonder when we finally have a chance to sing our favorite Christmas songs, light candles to “Silent Night,” and gather around the manger to hear the old familiar tale of the nativity once more.
We know this story. The story of the first Christmas - the story of the birth of Jesus, the Messiah, the savior of the world. We tell it every year. We remember it on our front lawns with plastic figurines and lights. We act it out in the back parking lot of Bethany with people and live animals through our annual Christmas journey. For those of us who look forward to it, because its a reminder of our childhoods, we get to hear Linus tell Charlie Brown and the whole world the meaning of Christmas, using the very words we got to hear again tonight. We know this story. We have been telling it for two thousand years. We’re pretty good at it by now.
We know the characters. Worn out Mary and Joseph, tired from their journey. Baby Jesus, hopefully resting peacefully, in the manger. The army of angels who come out of heaven in flash-mob style to surprise a rag tag bunch of shepherds who are out in the fields at work. They’re all there, Hallmark card perfect. The snapshot of the season.
But wait. A character is missing - or perhaps he was never invited to the party. Luke would definitely miss him if we left him out of the picture. He is the first character Luke mentions in his story of the birth of Jesus. Old Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor who dominates the first part of the story this evening. The man who calls the world to attention with an ordered census. For Luke, he is a key player in the story of Jesus’ birth. In the first movement of the story, Caesar’s call to register is mentioned four times. The birth of Jesus is pushed into the last line. This is an important part of the story because it sets the whole narrative in motion. Perhaps Caesar is worth a closer look this evening as we hear the familiar Christmas story one more time.
Caesar Augustus - son of God - savior of the world - divine high priest - that’s how Luke knew him. That was who was in charge when Jesus came screaming into this world. Caesar Augustus was the one who united a divided Rome and established a reign that was suppose to last forever. Augustus was the center of the Roman world, and his image and name were every where. Rome was the ultimate propaganda machine. As you traveled around the empire you knew exactly who was in charge. The Romans even reset the calendar for Augustus. We know the first month of their new year by the name August today. I dare say that if Rome could have reached into the heavens to reorder the stars to proclaim the divinity of Caesar Augustus - they would have.
There is an archway in Ephesus, Turkey, an ancient billboard if you will.
This billboard reads “Emperor Caesar - Divine Augustus - High Priest.” Bold words. Audacious words. Elsewhere in Roman literature Augustus is celebrated as the son of god - he was called the savior of the world. His life is told as the gospel - the good news, or good tidings - to the Roman world. Caesar Augustus was the man in charge when Jesus was born. And he ruled with an iron fist.
The time of Augustus was celebrated as a time of peace, the infamous “pax romana” - the Roman peace. But it was a peace through violence. Peace through military victory. A peace that held everything in check with the threat of death. A peace that was no peace at all to most of the Roman world. It was this peace that ordered Joseph and Mary from their home to Bethlehem to take part in a census that was meant to number people for tax and military purposes. This was a census to control the world. To remind the world that Caesar was in charge. To maintain the status quo. It was into this mess, the chaos of fallen power, that God chose to be present in our world.
The crazy thing about this story, about the missing character Caesar Augustus, is that his mighty, oppressive census becomes an avenue for the power of God. Right into our midst, right into the mess of the world, God chooses to be present. God turns Caesar’s census into an opportunity to introduce divine love into the world. In Luke’s story, woven into the fabric of the narrative, is the good news that God is the one who is actually in charge. God is in control - not Caesar. It’s a subversive claim by Luke. Right under the nose of Caesar Augustus - who is called son of god, high priest, savior, the one who brings peace and good news - comes baby Jesus. If these titles sound familiar it’s because we heard all of them in Luke’s story of the birth of Jesus. Jesus is the true son of God, high priest, and savior. Jesus is in charge - not Caesar. He is the one who brings true peace and his life is good news all people - the whole world.
That’s the radical message of the Christmas story - that Christ comes to us, not in a blaze of glory, but in the humility of a baby, born to a peasant girl in ancient Palestine. Jesus came into the world, not on a throne of power, removed from the joy and pain of everyday life, but on the margins of life, right where our lives unfold. Jesus came into the world as a bold statement that God was not ok with the way things were. He came into the world not as a quick fix, but as a game changer. He loved the world so deeply. He reached out to those in need, hung out with all the wrong people. Healing the sick. Speaking good news to the poor. Turning over the tables of a broken system of power - telling everyone up to their neck in sin that God was not out for vengeance and death but for a relationship grounded in love and forgiveness.
This is our story. The story of God’s love for the world. At its heart, the Christmas story is about God, who made the world, called it good, saw it broken, and walked right into the thick of our mess. Caesar Augustus is surely dead, we can see his great reign fading in the crumbling marble of long gone cities, but the fallen power of empire and death still runs rampant in this world. Hate and death still plague us, sometimes at a distance, sometimes within arms reach, but it’s here all the same. Last week I watched a 2013 year-in-review video on one of the morning shows. I normally don't watch such things, but I got pulled in. After five minutes I was worn out by all of the highs and lows of 2013 and was left thinking that the world needs more messages that point to God’s love. We are people capable of incredible love, and incredible destruction. And that’s right where God chooses to be. The birth of Christ does not wait until it’s safe. Jesus is born for us here and now, right in the midst of our joy and pain. He is born again for us tonight in bread and wine, gifts of God’s kingdom. A foretaste of God’s abundance. Nourishment for God’s children as we head back out to share the good news.
We know this story, this Christmas story. It’s a story so old and familiar, yet so new and surprising. It is our story. It’s a story of hope. A story of love. A reminder that God is indeed with us on our journeys through this world.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
An Army of Hope
Sometimes while writing a sermon I have to take a break and put words to paper (or mac screen) in order to get some ideas off the table. Too many ideas can clog the gears of thought, leaving too many options that try to force their way into my weak attempt to articulate God’s words for us. Rarely do this words ever see the light of day. But there’s a first time for everything.
These are some words that I need to get out of my mind.
There is a great deal of darkness and hate swirling around in the last week. Now perhaps is just me and the cold germs that I currently harbor in my body, but every time I turn on the TV, read the newspaper, or float around the internet and twitter, all I come across is negativity.
There is a war going on and its got many fronts.
There’s the war on Christmas….
…the war of words surrounding Phil Robertson and A&E…
… the war on Obamacare…
…the war of words over gun legislation - brought to fresh light by yet another school shooting…
…the actual wars raging in Syria, Irag, afghanistan…
…the actual wars raging in our city streets - I am reminded of the constant shadow of death on the south side of Chicago…
…the list goes on…
I do not record this list in an effort to bring more gloom to the table.
Actually my purpose is quite the opposite.
I want to talk about hope.
Specifically the hope we have in Christ.
As we draw closer to the nativity, moving through this fourth week in Advent, I want to add my voice to the conversation raging in the world around us. I want to talk about hope.
Hope comes in many forms in the Christmas narrative - too many to name - to many that still may find their way into my Christmas Eve sermon. The one I want to focus on can be found in Luke’s version, in the fields with the shepherds, as their lives were interrupted and their world turned upside down.
The shepherds could have probably come upon with a pretty gloomy list of events and issues that brought darkness to their lives - much like the list above. They were outcasts of society…oppressed by empire…poor economically…unclean religiously. They are the last folk on earth who would ever think about receiving good news - that night, or any night. And yet to them the angles appeared.
There is good news.
And here’s the cool part, at least for me. As we tell the story today, the shepherds are visited by a “host” of angels…a heavenly host. This is a very pastoral scene. Shepherds and sheep and a large group of singing angels. But I don't think this is what Luke had in mind. The word for “host” can also be translated as “army.” The shepherds are literally visited by an “army of angels.”
Now the shepherds knew about armies. So did Luke. They were familiar with Rome’s legions who spread the “pax romana” - the so called roman peace - with violence and brute force. They knew all to well the violence of an army - be it a physical force…an army of words that let them know just how outcast they were…an army of labels like unclean…an army of reminders that they did not belong.
But here Luke offers a different army - one that truly brings peace and good news for all the world and (no categories and labels here….no paperwork or hoops to jump through - All. The. World.) for all people. Here Luke presents an army of peace, sent by God to a world worn out by armies of hate - be they Roman or religious or otherwise.
The shepherds are greeted by an army of peace. This is good news. For them. And for us. But the story is not over.
The shepherds are then drafted into action. They are no longer bystanders of the story. They are drawn in by the word of peace and hope. They join the army. Excitement builds and they invade Bethlehem in peace and they get to look upon the prince of peace in wonder. And hope. And they go back out into the world to be voices of that hope. As they share the good news, the army of peace grows.
As the darkness of rhetoric, of hate, of hopelessness builds around us - as the nameless armies go through their maneuvers in our midst - I wonder if we can counter them with love. I wonder if we too can join the army of peace. The army of the angels and shepherds and the generations that have come before us who have boldly spoken words of peace and love - keeping the flame of hope alive in our world.
And it all starts with love.
Love…love…love…
I am reminded of one of my favorite Christmas songs. It’s not a traditional one by any means, but it is one that speaks of hope and love. It was penned by Dave Matthews and is simply titled “The Christmas Song.”
One of the chorus lines begs the question, “Why in all this hatred do you fill me what with love?”
It's a hard question. Why are we filled with love? And I am not here to answer it, but simply to remind. We are filled with love. This is what we need. To be reminded that we are filled with love, by God, through Jesus, to be an army of hope in this world.
My hope and prayer is that we can join the army of angels - and shepherds - in speaking words of peace, God’s peace, to our world that needs this good news so badly. That we can become an army of hope in our world.
These are some words that I need to get out of my mind.
There is a great deal of darkness and hate swirling around in the last week. Now perhaps is just me and the cold germs that I currently harbor in my body, but every time I turn on the TV, read the newspaper, or float around the internet and twitter, all I come across is negativity.
There is a war going on and its got many fronts.
There’s the war on Christmas….
…the war of words surrounding Phil Robertson and A&E…
… the war on Obamacare…
…the war of words over gun legislation - brought to fresh light by yet another school shooting…
…the actual wars raging in Syria, Irag, afghanistan…
…the actual wars raging in our city streets - I am reminded of the constant shadow of death on the south side of Chicago…
…the list goes on…
I do not record this list in an effort to bring more gloom to the table.
Actually my purpose is quite the opposite.
I want to talk about hope.
Specifically the hope we have in Christ.
As we draw closer to the nativity, moving through this fourth week in Advent, I want to add my voice to the conversation raging in the world around us. I want to talk about hope.
Hope comes in many forms in the Christmas narrative - too many to name - to many that still may find their way into my Christmas Eve sermon. The one I want to focus on can be found in Luke’s version, in the fields with the shepherds, as their lives were interrupted and their world turned upside down.
The shepherds could have probably come upon with a pretty gloomy list of events and issues that brought darkness to their lives - much like the list above. They were outcasts of society…oppressed by empire…poor economically…unclean religiously. They are the last folk on earth who would ever think about receiving good news - that night, or any night. And yet to them the angles appeared.
There is good news.
And here’s the cool part, at least for me. As we tell the story today, the shepherds are visited by a “host” of angels…a heavenly host. This is a very pastoral scene. Shepherds and sheep and a large group of singing angels. But I don't think this is what Luke had in mind. The word for “host” can also be translated as “army.” The shepherds are literally visited by an “army of angels.”
Now the shepherds knew about armies. So did Luke. They were familiar with Rome’s legions who spread the “pax romana” - the so called roman peace - with violence and brute force. They knew all to well the violence of an army - be it a physical force…an army of words that let them know just how outcast they were…an army of labels like unclean…an army of reminders that they did not belong.
But here Luke offers a different army - one that truly brings peace and good news for all the world and (no categories and labels here….no paperwork or hoops to jump through - All. The. World.) for all people. Here Luke presents an army of peace, sent by God to a world worn out by armies of hate - be they Roman or religious or otherwise.
The shepherds are greeted by an army of peace. This is good news. For them. And for us. But the story is not over.
The shepherds are then drafted into action. They are no longer bystanders of the story. They are drawn in by the word of peace and hope. They join the army. Excitement builds and they invade Bethlehem in peace and they get to look upon the prince of peace in wonder. And hope. And they go back out into the world to be voices of that hope. As they share the good news, the army of peace grows.
As the darkness of rhetoric, of hate, of hopelessness builds around us - as the nameless armies go through their maneuvers in our midst - I wonder if we can counter them with love. I wonder if we too can join the army of peace. The army of the angels and shepherds and the generations that have come before us who have boldly spoken words of peace and love - keeping the flame of hope alive in our world.
And it all starts with love.
Love…love…love…
I am reminded of one of my favorite Christmas songs. It’s not a traditional one by any means, but it is one that speaks of hope and love. It was penned by Dave Matthews and is simply titled “The Christmas Song.”
One of the chorus lines begs the question, “Why in all this hatred do you fill me what with love?”
It's a hard question. Why are we filled with love? And I am not here to answer it, but simply to remind. We are filled with love. This is what we need. To be reminded that we are filled with love, by God, through Jesus, to be an army of hope in this world.
My hope and prayer is that we can join the army of angels - and shepherds - in speaking words of peace, God’s peace, to our world that needs this good news so badly. That we can become an army of hope in our world.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Prepare; An Advent Prayer
Advent Blessings!
This week's sermon, based on Matthew 3:1-12, is the second in an Advent sermon series titled "Living As God's Hope-Filled People." The second week of this series explores how God prepares us to be kingdom people and how we, in turn, prepare the way of the Lord with our lives. May God be with you as we continue our journey to the manger.
Matthew 3:1-12
In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,
"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.'"
Now John wore clothing of camel's hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.
But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.
I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
This morning we continue our Advent journey. We continue to explore what it means to live as God’s hope-filled people. Last week we heard the call from Matthew, and Pastor Casey, to remain awake. We learned what it looks like to remain awake and in-tune to what God is doing in our world. To remain awake to the reality that we live in a broken world, but that God is very much a part of our world, and that God continues to do work among us. We are called to wake up and reimagine the world as God reimagines the world, through love and forgiveness.
Today we light another candle against the cold and growing darkness of the world. We take a journey out into the wilderness as we hear the words of John the Baptist to “Prepare the Way.” As we remain awake to God’s presence in our midst, we add add another petition to our prayer; prepare. Prepare us, O Lord, to receive your kingdom. Empower us, O Lord, to prepare your way in this world. This morning we encounter the story of how to prepare the way for God’s coming into our midst. This story spans generations. Our faith journey is filled with many witnesses that teach us how to prepare God’s way in this world.
John the baptist appears rather suddenly on the scene, in the wilderness of Judea. It’s as if he rises out of the harsh landscape with his scathing critiques and message of the kingdom of heaven drawing near. In no time at all he is surrounded by people. The historian Josephus tells us that up to 50,000 people came to hear John speak. John is a spectacle. He is cut from the same rock as the prophets of old. Those versed in the legends recognize the image of Elijah in John’s camel’s hair suit and leather belt. He is a commanding figure then and now. And he is not afraid to speak his mind.
John speaks words of change. He points back to the words of Isaiah. “Prepare the way of the LORD, make his paths straight.” Isaiah spoke in the dark time of exile in Babylon. He spoke words of hope to a people who lived in fear. Isaiah knew God’s time would come again. He gave the people something to hold on to during long years of being scattered from their homes. God was preparing a way out of exile, so the way of the LORD must be made straight. In the wilderness, God’s time is coming. It is this torch that John picks up through his preaching. John knows what’s to come.
He calls for people to repent. He proclaims that the kingdom of heaven is drawing near. He does not beat around the bush as they say. John is direct and focused. “Repent!” It’s not a question or a polite request, it’s a command. Repent! It’s urgent. The kingdom of God is drawing near. Repent! That’s how the way of the LORD is prepared. John offers the people an opportunity to confess. He brings them to the waters of cleansing and healing. John proclaims God’s time.
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The call from John in the wilderness reaches out to us today. And this word may come to us worn out and tired. The word repent has been co-opted by side walk preachers and T.V. pastors to instill the fear of God into people. Repent! Jesus is coming back and boy is he mad. Repent! Or experience the flames of hell. Repent! Before it’s too late. So we may come to this word tired this morning, because all this talk of hell and damnation wears us out. For us, there may be no hope, no love, no chance of God in this word. And yet we hear it from John. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
Repent. This word that now bears the baggage of being used as the only way to get to heaven, actually meant something quite different for John. For John, repent has nothing to with the afterlife. With his call to repent, John is pointing to a change that is breaking into the world. His call to repent is filled with hope. The world is broken, God knows it, and God does something about it. With his call to repent, John is pointing to Jesus. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” John stands in the wilderness of the world, preparing the way for the one who will change everything. John proclaims a word of hope in the wilderness of the world.
As we move through the generations we encounter another who is a voice of hope in the wilderness. One who prepares the way of the Lord. On Friday, we commemorated Saint Nicholas, Bishop of Myra. Nicholas was a 4th century bishop of the church in the country we now know as Turkey. One of the legends that accompanies Saint Nicholas is his gracious offering to a family in need. It seems that a man in 4th century Patara had fallen on hard times and, in the midst of great troubles, was at his wit’s end. He had lost all of his money and had no means of supporting his three daughters. He was on the verge of selling them into prostitution. He was lost in the wilderness of poverty. Stranded among the sand and thorns of saving his family and surviving. It seemed he had no way in the wilderness. Until Nicholas came along.
It started with a bag of gold through an open window, perhaps, as legend holds, finding its way into an empty stocking, hanging by the chimney with care. The first daughter was set free from her grim fate of being sold into slavery. In turn, the other two daughters were also set free. Nicholas became a beckon of hope, a symbol of God’s redeeming love and new life for all through Jesus Christ. In the wilderness of poverty, Saint Nicholas prepared the way of the Lord by providing resources for a family in dire straits.
As we move further down the generations we encounter another who is a voice of hope in the wilderness. One who prepares the way of the Lord. On Thursday, the world mourned the death of Nelson Mandela. Mandela was a catalyst in helping to put an end to apartheid in South Africa. He was known the world over for being a voice for peace and beacon of hope in one of the most segregated and violent periods of time the world has known. He was a liberator and a champion for a people that had been kept in the wilderness for far too long.
Mandela spend over 10,000 days in prison for his early work against the apartheid government. He was labeled as traitor and put away for his acts of treason. In the darkness of prison, Mandela took the time to learn Afrikaans, the language of those in power, and in an early speech after his release, he delivered the speech in Afrikaans, attempting to reach out in peace, not violence. Mandela, while not perfect, helped to prepare the way for peace for a country so torn by violence and hatred. Through the wilderness of prison and segregation, Mandela was a beacon of hope, preparing the way of the Lord through the call for peace and harmony.
As we move even further down the generations, we arrive at ourselves. We are the ones who have received these stories. Today we hear the call to repent. And for us who follow Jesus, repentance is the act of preparing the way for God’s kingdom in the world. As we wander through the wilderness that creeps up during our lives, we are called to repent, to turn away from all that keeps us from following the way of Jesus.
The call to repent is more than a change of mind, it is a change of heart. To repent is to change the way we engage the world. No longer through the selfishness of sin, but through the grace of Gods love. The call to repent has a continual aspect to it. John’s call is to continue to repent. Or “keep on repenting.” Keep on turning away for all that holds you back from God. To repent is to hope in what God has promised. To repent is to act upon the trust that we have in God’s presence in our world. We turn away from the old ways of sin and selfishness, from all that keeps us from being fully alive. Repentance sets us free to live for God and for one another. In the wilderness of this world, God prepares a way through us as we reach out to others. This repentance comes through ordinary acts of love and mercy. Our Angel Trees prepare God’s way in the world as we share our resources with those in need. Our gifts are a beacon of hope against the dark wilderness of this world. The Christmas Journey prepares God’s way in the world by sharing the counter-cultural message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As we share the story of Jesus Christ, we spark a flame that burns bright in the wilderness of this world.
Prepare us, that is our prayer this morning. Prepare us, O Lord, to receive your kingdom. Empower us, O Lord, to prepare your way in this world. We are God’s hope-filled people. As we continue our Advent your, may you be filled with God’s Spirit, the warm flame that shines bright as a beacon of God’s love in this world.
This week's sermon, based on Matthew 3:1-12, is the second in an Advent sermon series titled "Living As God's Hope-Filled People." The second week of this series explores how God prepares us to be kingdom people and how we, in turn, prepare the way of the Lord with our lives. May God be with you as we continue our journey to the manger.
Matthew 3:1-12
In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,
"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.'"
Now John wore clothing of camel's hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.
But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.
I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
This morning we continue our Advent journey. We continue to explore what it means to live as God’s hope-filled people. Last week we heard the call from Matthew, and Pastor Casey, to remain awake. We learned what it looks like to remain awake and in-tune to what God is doing in our world. To remain awake to the reality that we live in a broken world, but that God is very much a part of our world, and that God continues to do work among us. We are called to wake up and reimagine the world as God reimagines the world, through love and forgiveness.
Today we light another candle against the cold and growing darkness of the world. We take a journey out into the wilderness as we hear the words of John the Baptist to “Prepare the Way.” As we remain awake to God’s presence in our midst, we add add another petition to our prayer; prepare. Prepare us, O Lord, to receive your kingdom. Empower us, O Lord, to prepare your way in this world. This morning we encounter the story of how to prepare the way for God’s coming into our midst. This story spans generations. Our faith journey is filled with many witnesses that teach us how to prepare God’s way in this world.
I. John the Baptist
John the baptist appears rather suddenly on the scene, in the wilderness of Judea. It’s as if he rises out of the harsh landscape with his scathing critiques and message of the kingdom of heaven drawing near. In no time at all he is surrounded by people. The historian Josephus tells us that up to 50,000 people came to hear John speak. John is a spectacle. He is cut from the same rock as the prophets of old. Those versed in the legends recognize the image of Elijah in John’s camel’s hair suit and leather belt. He is a commanding figure then and now. And he is not afraid to speak his mind.
John speaks words of change. He points back to the words of Isaiah. “Prepare the way of the LORD, make his paths straight.” Isaiah spoke in the dark time of exile in Babylon. He spoke words of hope to a people who lived in fear. Isaiah knew God’s time would come again. He gave the people something to hold on to during long years of being scattered from their homes. God was preparing a way out of exile, so the way of the LORD must be made straight. In the wilderness, God’s time is coming. It is this torch that John picks up through his preaching. John knows what’s to come.
He calls for people to repent. He proclaims that the kingdom of heaven is drawing near. He does not beat around the bush as they say. John is direct and focused. “Repent!” It’s not a question or a polite request, it’s a command. Repent! It’s urgent. The kingdom of God is drawing near. Repent! That’s how the way of the LORD is prepared. John offers the people an opportunity to confess. He brings them to the waters of cleansing and healing. John proclaims God’s time.
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The call from John in the wilderness reaches out to us today. And this word may come to us worn out and tired. The word repent has been co-opted by side walk preachers and T.V. pastors to instill the fear of God into people. Repent! Jesus is coming back and boy is he mad. Repent! Or experience the flames of hell. Repent! Before it’s too late. So we may come to this word tired this morning, because all this talk of hell and damnation wears us out. For us, there may be no hope, no love, no chance of God in this word. And yet we hear it from John. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
Repent. This word that now bears the baggage of being used as the only way to get to heaven, actually meant something quite different for John. For John, repent has nothing to with the afterlife. With his call to repent, John is pointing to a change that is breaking into the world. His call to repent is filled with hope. The world is broken, God knows it, and God does something about it. With his call to repent, John is pointing to Jesus. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” John stands in the wilderness of the world, preparing the way for the one who will change everything. John proclaims a word of hope in the wilderness of the world.
II. Saint Nicholas, Bishop of Myra
As we move through the generations we encounter another who is a voice of hope in the wilderness. One who prepares the way of the Lord. On Friday, we commemorated Saint Nicholas, Bishop of Myra. Nicholas was a 4th century bishop of the church in the country we now know as Turkey. One of the legends that accompanies Saint Nicholas is his gracious offering to a family in need. It seems that a man in 4th century Patara had fallen on hard times and, in the midst of great troubles, was at his wit’s end. He had lost all of his money and had no means of supporting his three daughters. He was on the verge of selling them into prostitution. He was lost in the wilderness of poverty. Stranded among the sand and thorns of saving his family and surviving. It seemed he had no way in the wilderness. Until Nicholas came along.
It started with a bag of gold through an open window, perhaps, as legend holds, finding its way into an empty stocking, hanging by the chimney with care. The first daughter was set free from her grim fate of being sold into slavery. In turn, the other two daughters were also set free. Nicholas became a beckon of hope, a symbol of God’s redeeming love and new life for all through Jesus Christ. In the wilderness of poverty, Saint Nicholas prepared the way of the Lord by providing resources for a family in dire straits.
III. Nelson Mandela
As we move further down the generations we encounter another who is a voice of hope in the wilderness. One who prepares the way of the Lord. On Thursday, the world mourned the death of Nelson Mandela. Mandela was a catalyst in helping to put an end to apartheid in South Africa. He was known the world over for being a voice for peace and beacon of hope in one of the most segregated and violent periods of time the world has known. He was a liberator and a champion for a people that had been kept in the wilderness for far too long.
Mandela spend over 10,000 days in prison for his early work against the apartheid government. He was labeled as traitor and put away for his acts of treason. In the darkness of prison, Mandela took the time to learn Afrikaans, the language of those in power, and in an early speech after his release, he delivered the speech in Afrikaans, attempting to reach out in peace, not violence. Mandela, while not perfect, helped to prepare the way for peace for a country so torn by violence and hatred. Through the wilderness of prison and segregation, Mandela was a beacon of hope, preparing the way of the Lord through the call for peace and harmony.
IV. Us
As we move even further down the generations, we arrive at ourselves. We are the ones who have received these stories. Today we hear the call to repent. And for us who follow Jesus, repentance is the act of preparing the way for God’s kingdom in the world. As we wander through the wilderness that creeps up during our lives, we are called to repent, to turn away from all that keeps us from following the way of Jesus.
The call to repent is more than a change of mind, it is a change of heart. To repent is to change the way we engage the world. No longer through the selfishness of sin, but through the grace of Gods love. The call to repent has a continual aspect to it. John’s call is to continue to repent. Or “keep on repenting.” Keep on turning away for all that holds you back from God. To repent is to hope in what God has promised. To repent is to act upon the trust that we have in God’s presence in our world. We turn away from the old ways of sin and selfishness, from all that keeps us from being fully alive. Repentance sets us free to live for God and for one another. In the wilderness of this world, God prepares a way through us as we reach out to others. This repentance comes through ordinary acts of love and mercy. Our Angel Trees prepare God’s way in the world as we share our resources with those in need. Our gifts are a beacon of hope against the dark wilderness of this world. The Christmas Journey prepares God’s way in the world by sharing the counter-cultural message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As we share the story of Jesus Christ, we spark a flame that burns bright in the wilderness of this world.
Prepare us, that is our prayer this morning. Prepare us, O Lord, to receive your kingdom. Empower us, O Lord, to prepare your way in this world. We are God’s hope-filled people. As we continue our Advent your, may you be filled with God’s Spirit, the warm flame that shines bright as a beacon of God’s love in this world.
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