Sermon: "If You Love Me..."

This also happens to be my 100th post. Happy postiversary to me!

"If You Love Me..."
by Rivkah
John 14:15-21

“If You Love Me…”

During my many summers at camp, both as camper and counselor, we often played a game called, “Honey, if you love me, please, please smile.” The object was to get someone to smile, but you could only do it by saying those words. No jokes, no tickling or other touching, just things like making faces or saying the words with a silly accent.

As a shy thirteen year-old, I would melt into the wall at the mere mention of those words. I’d find any excuse to get away. For me, hearing those words brings back a flood of negative emotions, mostly “Oh my God, I might have to talk to a boy, a cute boy, while everyone else is staring at me.” That’s the stuff of nightmares right there folks. I’ve been forced to play it a few times in my life, but I’m not sure I ever got anyone to smile. Of course, I was so petrified, I’m not sure anyone got me to smile either. I still hate that game to this day.

Of course, those words aren’t merely a game. “If you love me…” It’s almost always said in a coercive manner. “If you really loved me, you’d… fill in the blank.” Every father warns his little girl about that line. Teenagers turn it back on their parents to get what they want. Partners hurl it back and forth like stinging darts. The unspoken but under-lying meaning of the statement being, since you’re not doing whatever it was in that blank, you apparently don’t love me, and if you don’t love me, I’ll be angry and I won’t love you. In essence, it’s a lightly veiled threat. The person making the threat is usually trying to gain the upper hand, get something for him- or herself.

So what was Jesus after, throwing out that kind of statement?! Well, let’s go back for a minute. In the passage we read from John, the disciples are scared. They are scared because Jesus has told them that he will soon leave them, that soon he will no longer be among them to lead them, inspire them, guide them, teach them. And the disciples are wondering just what they are going to do without him. They have given up three years of their lives to follow Jesus; they love Jesus, and they know that EVERYTHING is going to change when he is gone.

Jesus is trying to allay their fears, so he says to the disciples, “Just because I am not here in person doesn’t mean that I won’t be with you. You think EVERYTHING is going to change, but I say, NOTHING is going to change. Your goals for life and discipleship should be absolutely the same. Just because you can’t reach out and touch me doesn’t mean that you can’t love me. Even when I am not with you, continue to love me! Love me, show your love for me by following my commandments. Love me by preaching what I have preached. Love me by living as I have lived. You will never be orphans. You are children of God! You will never be alone, the Holy Spirit will always be with you. Keep doing what God wants you to do.”

“If you love me, follow my commandments.” It’s not coercive; it’s simple. Rather than trying to gain something for himself with this statement, he is giving them a gift. The gift of his presence in the Holy Spirit. Keep Jesus’ commandments and the disciples will know his love by loving others.

It might help to remind you what Jesus’ commandments are. He first revealed them when the Pharisees were trying one of their many theological traps on him. They wanted him to reveal which of the ten commandments was the greatest. Of course they intended to trick him so they could make a fool of him and get rid of him in disgrace. But Jesus counters with something totally unexpected. “The greatest commandment is this,” he says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.” But he goes on, saying, “And the second is like it, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The Pharisees are stunned, rather than quoting one of the familiar laws, he has boiled down the entire Torah, the whole of Jewish law, into two rules.

A few months ago I got an e-mail with a very simple joke of the bumper-sticker variety included. “If you love Jesus, tithe. Anyone can honk.” It’s a good joke because it is absolutely true. And it is the crux of what Jesus is saying here: “If you love me, obey. Anyone can honk. If you love me, if you get what I’m talking about, do something special. Believe. Obey.”

I don't use that "O" word lightly. It is a word heavy with all kinds of baggage. But it is, with God, a Good word. We are free to obey. We get the choice. We obey not because we are coerced, not because we are forced, but because we are loved and forgiven and therefore we obey in gratitude. It’s a different kind of freedom than we are used to thinking about. We usually think about freedom in terms of being free from this or that. Free from oppression, free from prison, free from slavery, free from fear. This a certainly a good kind of freedom, but it is not what God has given us. We are given freedom for. For telling the good news, for showing God’s love to others, for being faithful, obedient disciples. And that’s why we obey, because we have been given that freedom.

Obey is one of those unpopular concepts because it has been used to belittle and limit others. I think though, that Jesus is talking about obey in the sense of a sonnet. A sonnet with its fourteen lines of iambic pentameter and rhyme scheme has rules. Within these rules is the greatest freedom imaginable to create image and emotion that can only be created when you commit to the rules. That’s the kind of obey Jesus is talking about here.

Believe it or not, this is Jesus way of saying goodbye to his disciples. This is his farewell speech. It’s a little wordy for what it is. But he’s trying to make sure they’ve gotten the important points of his ministry before he has to leave. Namely, that they won’t be alone once he’s no longer visible to their earthly eyes. They will be united with him in heaven through the Spirit, the one he calls their Advocate. The Spirit will stay with them forever, uniting them to Father and Son for all time.

Keeping Jesus’ commandments will be something of a sign for those who want Jesus to be revealed to them when he comes again. He says to them, “you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.” Those who keep his commandments will see Jesus revealed.

In John’s time, secret societies were everywhere. In fact, some groups of Christians had to keep themselves in secret in order to remain safe. So if the language here sounds like something from an exclusive club, it’s a product of its time. Remember, John is talking to an audience who has been excluded from the Jewish temple for their beliefs. He is reminding them that they have their own place to be included, in the heavenly kingdom where Jesus will reign with the Father. In order to be a part of the kingdom, John wants them to understand that they have to believe and obey the commandments that Jesus put in place. “Those who keep my commandment are those who love me.”

Love is the order of the day here. Jesus says that only those who love him will be loved by his Father. Those who are loved by the Father will see Jesus revealed and he will live in them through the Spirit. But the secret handshake, the outward sign of this love is to keep Jesus’ commandments. That’s what this love is all about.

Jesus is about to leave and in order for more people to know him and know about him, someone has to continue his works, continue showing his love for others and for God. That’s why he tells them to keep his commandments, so that others may know him and live in him and perpetuate the cycle until Christ has been revealed to all and in all.

If we did not love Christ, we could not obey his commandments. We would be unable to do so. I think that is where the exclusivity comes from. It’s not a shutting out of others, as Christ invites all to his table. But if we do not come to the table with love, we cannot find what we need for fulfillment. So not everyone comes, or they may not come with love. That is why I think Jesus is telling them that keeping his commandments for love are so necessary to be believers.

It is so important that he is even sending the one he calls the Advocate, whom we call the Holy Spirit. He says, “This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.” John tells his readers that Jesus realizes that not everyone accepts the way they believe; they are not ready for the spirit of truth. But they already have this Spirit within them. The truth has already been revealed to them and so they are asked to carry out Jesus’ commandments so that others might see the truth revealed in them.

Jesus might not be there to lead them in the flesh, but the Spirit will show them the way if they only remember to follow his commandments to love God and love others. We too, have the Spirit with us and within us. We only have to follow the commandments to love God and love others and Christ will be revealed through us and to us.

We may not be a secret society, but we are set apart. Just as we read last week, we are a chosen race, a holy nation, a royal priesthood of believers. God has chosen us to reveal Christ in our love for him. Not just anybody can do that, only the ones who obey the commandments to love. We obey because we know we are loved even when we don’t obey. That is how we show that we are set apart. As the old hymn says, “They will know we are Christians by our love.” When we love with the Spirit that Christ has given us, we reveal his presence with us and in us. And we will not be alone, for Christ has promised that he will be in us, and we will be in him. Glory be to God! Amen.

Sermon, Lent 5: Can These Bones Live?

Can These Bones Live?

by Rivkah

Ezekiel 37:1-14; Romans 8:6-11; John 11:1-45

I don’t know about any of you, but I got a terrible case of spring fever this week. Temperatures soaring into the 70’s, daffodils everywhere, knowing that by the end of this month, I will have a garden to plant in. It made it very hard to sit inside and work on this sermon, I tell you. I wanted to be out soaking up the sunshine, getting my hands in the dirt. I spent quite a lot of time pouring over seed catalogs this week, wondering what I would like to grow this season.

There is nothing more satisfying in spring than to see the tiny heads of seedlings poking their verdant heads out of the black dirt, reaching for the warm sun and knowing that come summer they will delight with the radiant color of flowers or the delicious bite of vegetables. But I admit, I am not a patient or even terribly skilled gardener. What I grow survives mostly by the grace of God. I do try to pick things that aren’t terribly fussy or fragile, but that’s about it. But each year as I pick out new plants to try, I envision with hope a bright and lush garden filled with color and flavor.

These images of spring and bringing forth life out of the seemingly dead ground swirled in my head as I read this week’s scriptures. I hear the dry twigs and grass rattling and rustling and I can hear the dry bones rattling too. The imagery in the Ezekiel text is wonderful. Rattling bones, the sinews and flesh returning to their frames. A little gory maybe, but beautiful in its own way.

When God is preparing to bring life to the bones, he tells the prophet that not only will the bones live, but they will also know that Yahweh is Lord. Those statements inherently belong together. Living and knowing Yahweh are practically synonymous. That is how we live, by knowing who Yahweh is.[i] And it follows that if those bones do indeed know who Yahweh is that they will praise him as well. And how could they not? Knowing Yahweh is to know what wondrous things Yahweh has done, like bringing life to dead, dry bones. Praise God, indeed!

Ezekiel is wandering among those bones, commanding them to get up. “Oh, bones! Hear the word of the Lord!” he tells them. He explains that they will have their sinews and flesh returned, that God will give them breath, spirit, life, but most important, that they will know that Yahweh is Lord. And to know that Yahweh is Lord is to praise him, praise him with the very breath that Yahweh gave to them.

Ezekiel is offering hope to the exiled Israelites with this story of resurrected bones. The prophet makes sure there is no misunderstanding by telling them straight out that the bones represent the people of Israel and that their resurrection represents their homecoming. They will be returned to their former lives, no longer dead in captivity, away from their homeland and their God. God will restore their breath, their spirit and because of this, they will use that very breath and spirit to praise Yahweh and rejoice in his name.

How foolish this must have looked. The Lord's prophet, standing in the middle of a pile of dead bones, is telling them not to give up hope. If I was Ezekiel, I would have gently suggested that the Lord first bring these bones back to life, and then I'll do a little preaching. "See," I'd say, "See what God can do?" But that is not the way of God, who calls us to believe without seeing. That is because the Lord's words always make room for hope. And it is the hope that brings us back to life. Hope rises up from our bones, and chooses to believe in spite of how it is.

Walter Brueggemann has written that hope proclaims that the way things appear is precarious. So we dare not absolutize the present. Don't take it too seriously. Don't bank on today because it will not last. Thus, hope is revolutionary. [ii]

Jesus is commanding the dead to live again too. His aim too, is that by raising the dead, the living might praise God’s name. But before he gets to that point, he has to make his way back to Bethany where his good friend Lazarus has been buried. His disciples are pretty sure that’s not a good idea.

I don’t know if Jesus had spring fever, but his disciples undoubtedly thought he had some kind of illness, wanting to go back to the place where he had just almost been stoned to death. Not only that, but he’s claiming he can raise a man dead already for a few days. Many of them went, I’m sure, out of sheer curiosity, that outweighing their fear of the stoning.

Did you catch the part in the reading where Thomas, always the doubter and cynic, says, “Let’s go too, so we can die with him?” You’ve got to hear it with the extra side of sarcasm that this is delivered with. They’re going back to Judea where some of the local Jews just tried to stone him, and Thomas is pretty sure that they’ll succeed this time if they go back. But Jesus wants to go to Mary and Martha’s so that he can raise his friend and their brother, Lazarus, from the dead and “so that they may believe,” he tells them.

No one really understands what is at stake here. The disciples don’t think it is safe to go back, and Jesus has to spell out that Lazarus is dead after they completely miss his sleeping metaphor. When they do arrive, Martha is baffled and doesn’t grasp the immediacy of what is about to happen. The mourners are miffed that he didn’t prevent the death of Lazarus in the first place. And good old practical Martha again, at the tomb, is a little wary of opening the grave, because of the smell of a body dead for four days.

I’ve always wondered if Jesus wasn’t testing the waters a little here with the raising of Lazarus, seeing how people would react to the idea of reanimating a dead body. Would they believe that such a thing was possible, even after seeing it with their own eyes? Some yes, some no, it would seem. No one understands. No one expects that life can come out of death. No one grasps that Jesus himself is the life-giving power of God.

There is so much protesting before the resurrection of Lazarus that you might think that these people didn’t want Jesus to bring Lazarus back to life. And I daresay that most of them probably did not. That would completely upset the natural way of things. Smelly, decomposing corpses are not supposed to stand up and walk around again. I imagine that the very idea of that sort of upset of reality invoked extreme discomfort and fear.

The lectionary doesn’t actually have us read what happens next, but I’m going to tell you that not all of those Jews believed in Jesus because of what happened. Some of them went off to tell the religious authorities about what he’d done. They were very frightened of this man who had the power even to bring life from death. The authorities respond the only way they know, with violence. Not only do they begin the plotting of Jesus’ own death, but the religious leaders are even plotting to get rid of Lazarus.

There is not much rejoicing at the raising of Lazarus. Even Mary and Martha are a little stunned at this unnatural turn of events. Martha has said that she indeed believes that there will be a resurrection in the end times, but this is absolutely not what she expected. It turns out to be a menace to those who think they control the future. It turns out that this story of the giving of life then leads to a story of death. We know what is coming in the next couple of weeks; we know that this resurrection is just a prelude to the one that is to come.

Now the disciples and the others have seen the power of God to raise the dead. This will give them a glimmer of hope when Jesus himself is in the tomb. Jesus’ resurrection is the ultimate display of this power. Death and sin are defeated once and for all. And that enormity is what so frightened the religious leaders. In the face of God’s power, they saw how powerless they themselves truly were. They who believed themselves to be the ultimate authority in the religious world were brought to their knees by the power of God as displayed through Jesus and his raising of Lazarus from the dead.

We, too, are powerless. Powerless to solve the problems of sin and death, to overcome them on our own. God and only God has power over them. God can bring flesh and bone together. God can bring Lazarus out of the tomb, God can erase the power of sin.

The apostle Paul told the believers in Rome that the one "who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you" (Rom. 8:11). The church has always found its life not in what it sees today but in the Spirit of the God who raises dead hopes. The day we lose our ability to envision a better tomorrow is the day we deny that we really believe in the resurrection.

So we will take our stand beside Ezekiel and proclaim our hope to the dry bones. "Thus, says the Lord, I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live!" You who gave up hope, who gave up dreaming--who have settled for a comfortably routine life of work, bills, and dirty laundry. You who think your best years are behind you. You who think the Lord God has forgotten all about your little life.

To you, we say, "Arise!" Arise from the heap of discarded dreams. Arise to discover that the Holy Spirit is breathing life back into you. Arise to live with magnificent hope! Because the world is dying for you to believe God is not done. Amen![iii]

---

[i] Brueggemann, Cousar, Gaventa, Newsome. Texts for Preaching: Year A. Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1995.

[ii] Craig Barnes "Resurrected hopes - Living by the Word - Ezekiel - Brief Article - Excerpt". Christian Century. Feb 27, 2002. FindArticles.com. 08 Mar. 2008. http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_5_119/ai_84054088

[iii] ibid.

Sermon: Recalculating

Texts: Isaiah 9:1-4; 1 Cor. 1:10-18; Matt. 4:12-23

When I was getting ready to move up here from Atlanta, one of the things I got for myself was a GPS unit. I found a good deal on a nice Garmin and thought it might come in handy for not only getting to know the area, but getting me around to other churches in the presbytery for meetings and such. I call it my magic box, since it seems as if by magic that it knows where I am and how to get me where I’m going.

I knew I was getting brave the day I decided to go a way home that was not what my box suggested. It doesn’t matter really, as it will figure out quickly where I am and design a new route from there. Whenever I take a turn that it has not laid out for me, a voice, a nice alto female, comes over the speaker and tells me, “recalculating.” It may be my imagination, but sometimes she sounds a bit testy that I’m not following her directions and she has to figure out a new way home.

When I first was learning the roads, since none around here are straight, I sort of had to go on faith that my magic box knew where I was going, since I generally had no idea. There were, in fact, a couple of times that it was wrong. See, you can type in street addresses, but it also has a database of gazillions of retail locations. You can tell it you want to find a fast food place and then narrow it down by type of food and further by specific chain. So I only have to push a couple of buttons to find the nearest Chic-fil-A or Starbucks. And it has lots of other types of stores in its memory, though like most people, it apparently isn’t a faultless one.

I had used the location by name finder, typing in ‘Borders’ and it told me where I could find the nearest one. I followed the directions laid out for me by my magic box, peering around intently when it told me “approaching destination” only to find there was not a Borders in sight. It seemed to think that the Borders-owned Waldenbooks inside the mall was an appropriate substitute, which was not at all what I had had in mind. So even with satellite-guided electronics there are still sometimes I just have to go on faith that it’s going to take me where I need to be.

That’s pretty much what the fishermen who went with Jesus had to do too. They had to go on faith that he was the Messiah, they only had John’s word at that point, and that he would indeed take them where they needed to go to be fishers of people. Remember, they hadn’t seen any miracles or heard him preach yet. All they’ve heard is Jesus calling out, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

Pretty strong words for a guy who is still pretty much unknown at this point. Jesus is just beginning his ministry now. He has not, that we are told, performed any miracles yet or even angered any Pharisees. At this point his words sound like most of the other prophets that the Israelites had heard over the centuries. Even rather like his cousin John the Baptist. Unlike John though, Jesus isn’t telling the people about their awful sins and the need for confession and forgiveness. “Repent,” though it has some of those connotations, is a pretty interesting word. When most modern Christians hear it, they do think of asking for forgiveness for their sins. Repent, say you’re sorry. But that’s not really what it means, at least not entirely. The Hebrew root of the word means to turn round, to go a different way. It’s not just a change of heart, it’s a change of life. “Repentance here means more of a change of direction, the gaining of a new set of values, the readiness for life under the reign of God.”[i] Jesus’ isn’t issuing just a blanket call for repentance. It’s a call to repent because the kingdom of God has come near. “It is so radical and powerful, its presence calls men and women from their safety and routine to a life of unheard-of newness.”[ii]

Jesus is really telling these fishermen, “Recalculate, figure out a new way to go. And the way to go is to follow me.” It entails a good deal of trust and allegiance to just drop everything and take a new direction. We have to be willing to let Jesus take the lead, and to follow him, trusting that he knows the way to the kingdom.

It’s difficult for some of us to take directions from others. We like to strike out on our own. It’s often easy to recognize those people. They’re the ones who drive around in circles, or have pieces left over from an IKEA project. They’re people who have a difficult time trusting in someone other than themselves, I think. Not that they can’t, just that it’s hard for them. We might call them self-reliant or independent. And those aren’t bad traits, but they do get a bit in the way when Jesus is asking us to drop our nets and follow him. We want to ask “But why, Jesus, why should I follow you?” But Matthew tells us that the disciples did it “immediately,” with no hesitation, with no backwards glance. And we might ask why, why did they drop everything to follow?

Our family used to go on “get lost rides” when I was a kid. It was our way of adding some adventure, a get away, on an otherwise ordinary day. We’d all pile into the car and head out into the country, sometimes wooded, sometimes fields, depending on where we were living at the time. My sister and I would get to pick the direction we took when we came to an intersection. We’d go places I’d never seen before, my sister and I (and probably Mom, too) thoroughly lost, but always trusting that Dad knew the way home no matter where we were. And you know, he always did.

The disciples remind me of that. They themselves not really knowing where they would be going with Jesus, but somehow trusting that he knew the way to go, so they just left everything and followed. All Jesus says is “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And like that, (snap), they dropped the nets they were casting and followed him. We aren’t told anything beyond that. Matthew doesn’t elaborate. The difficult thing about this story for me is the fishermen's unflinching, immediate decision to follow this man. Where’s the rational "let’s think this over," or "I’ll get back to you?" We have no indication that they had counted the cost. We’re not even sure that they stopped long enough to say goodbye to family and friends. They just up and leave everything connected to their life. Immediately and with no looking back. To get back to the question of why they did it, the answer is simple. Almost too simple. Because it was Jesus. It was Jesus who told them to follow.

Yesterday at the presbytery meeting, we heard a woman preach on this same Scripture passage. While her sermon went a different direction than mine, I did come away with this thought. When the disciples put down their nets to follow Jesus, the nets they put down, cast aside, were not just fishing nets. They were also safety nets. They represented what was safe and familiar to these men. They were a source of income and stability, a link to their family and their homes. No, they were not just nets to catch fish. But once they were put down the disciples had empty hands. Now they could use those hands to catch people, to heal them, to feed them, to hold them. We have to come with our safety nets put down, cast aside, so that we have empty hands to offer to Christ so he can fill them again with the tools we need to help others.

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” Notice though that he doesn’t tell these fishermen, “Follow me and you can be shepherds for my sheep,” or “Follow me and you can be a soldier in God’s army.” No, he meets them where they are, who they are. These fishermen will now fish-for-men. It is right here that we get a glimpse of the way Jesus works in the world. He doesn’t start a conversation with them about farming or shepherding, even though those will be metaphors he later uses. No, because he is speaking with fishermen, he speaks to them in their own terms, not what he knows best, but what they know best.

A professor of mine at Columbia Seminary played around with some of the other calls Jesus might have extended. She offers these.

Follow me, you miners, and I will make you mine for people!

Follow me, you bankers and tellers, and I will make you bank human life!

Follow me, you builders, and I will make you builders of God’s house!

Follow me, you shopkeepers, and I will make you keepers of God’s shop!

Follow me, you clowns and fools, and I will make you fools for God!

Follow me, you landscape workers, and I will make you landscapers of life!

Follow me, you cooks and chefs and butchers and bakers, and I will make you season and leaven and serve and preserve more than food!

Follow me, you instrumentalists, and I will make you instrumental to others!

Follow me, you friends, you parents, you children, you siblings, you neighbors, you strangers, you hosts and guests, and I will make you all these things—to every other human being!

It’s not as hard as you might think. Christ always starts where we already are.

Take a deep breath, put down your nets…and follow, simply because it is Christ who is asking us to do so.

[i] Brueggemann, Cousar, Gaventa, Newsome. Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV-Year A. Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, 1995.

[ii] ibid.

Sermon: "Eye Witnesses"

“Eye Witnesses”

We get another servant text this week. This is one of the primary texts that led me to believe last week that the Servant was meant to be the nation of Israel, for in this text it is explicitly said “Israel, you are my servant.” The rest of the language is also similar to the passage from Isaiah that we read last week.

This week we are hearing God tell the servant Israel that it is not enough that she is free from captivity and restored to her rightful land. No, God wants all the people, even their captors and the infidels to know God’s saving love. “I shall make you a light to the nations,” says God, “so that my salvation may reach the remotest parts of the earth.” God’s salvation is not just for Israel, but for the whole world, and it is for Israel, the chosen people, to spread the word of their God to all the nations. It is their job as servants of God, as witnesses of God’s power and glory, to tell others what they have seen and heard; to tell the world of the faithfulness of Yahweh. It is their birthright, what they were chosen as the descendant of Abraham to do, says Isaiah. “Yahweh has spoken, who formed me in the womb to be his servant…”

We are all formed in the womb as God’s servants, made to proclaim the glory of God to the nations. From the moment of our birth, we are called to be witnesses to God’s power at work in our world. As we discovered last week, we are also God’s chosen people. God gives us the power of the Holy Spirit to guide us and give us the strength and courage we need to undertake such a daunting endeavor.

Being a witness isn’t always easy. Often doubters scorn and scoff. How many of you heard on NPR the story of the supposed UFO sighting in Stephenville, TX this past week? I have to admit, I’m a bit of a skeptic about UFO’s, though I try to remind myself that UFO just mean “unidentified flying object,” and not ‘alien spaceship.’ Some folks seem to confuse the terms. I certainly believe that people saw something unidentified, just perhaps not alien. Apparently dozens of people saw the same thing in Stephenville though, which, at least to my mind, makes it somewhat more credible. But what I want to point out to you is the fact that none of them tried to keep quiet about what they saw. In all of the interviews, every person said that after their initial shock, they immediately called someone else, anyone else, to come and see what they were seeing. It was too incredible not to share, not to have someone else to talk with about this amazing event they were witnessing.

Even after the experts at the Smithsonian Institute’s astrophysics lab said it was most likely explained by a fairly common atmospheric mirage, some, or even most, people were still convinced of what they saw. Not all were jumping on the alien bandwagon, many just believed it was a secret military aircraft. But no matter what they were convinced it was, they all had to tell somebody. The little local paper was inundated with calls and emails about the event. Everybody had an opinion or a question. The paper contacted several of the eye-witnesses to get their side of the story, just an the interviewer from NPR did. These eye-witnesses were eager to share their story, to tell what they saw and to convince others of its truth.

John the Baptist was an eye-witness of another sort. John saw the Spirit descend upon Jesus, something of his own UFO, you might say. And he could not sit idly by and not tell anyone what he has seen and heard. He had to tell others what he saw and convince them of its truth. He was given this revelation as a gift from God, a gift that he was to share with others. “The revelation does not remain the private possession of John only to nurture his own faith and experience, but becomes the opportunity to address others. Furthermore, John’s witness echoes beyond his own control. Andrew, one of the disciples who abandons John, becomes yet another voice to speak to his brother, Simon.”[i]

And so it goes, he tells another, who tells another, who tells another, and so on. John’s witness cannot keep to itself and be a quiet faith. Ours is a telling faith. We have not been given this revelation to keep it quiet, hidden like a treasured secret. What good does that do us or the world? No, like Isaiah’s servant, we are to be a light to all the nations. As Jesus will later explain in a parable, what good is a light if we hide it under a basket? We ourselves will not be able to see, nor will those who enter our home.

When the disciples, first of John, soon to be of Jesus, ask him a question to get to know a little more about him, his answer is, “Come and see.” In other words, don’t take my word for it, come see for yourselves. Witness with your own eyes. And they do. They see, they really see. Andrew sees. He tells his brother Simon, “We have found the Messiah.” Simon sees, he really sees. He becomes Peter, the rock of the church. They become followers of Jesus, witnessing to all who will hear, sharing what they have seen and heard.

How can we sit idly by and not tell what we have seen and heard in Jesus Christ? Just as was John’ revelation, our own revelation is a gift, a gift that is to be passed on to others so that all may share in the delight. I found myself thinking that this gift of faith that we share is rather like sharing a wonderful book. In my family, when one of us picks up a good book, it is not long before it has been passed around, even mailed half-way across the country to be shared. We’ll email the recommendation to friends we know with similar tastes to pick it up in their library or local bookstore. We want to share our own enjoyment with them and later be able to talk about it, sharing the pleasure of a discussion, discovering new insights and points of view as we talk.

That is why we share the gospel too. So we can discuss it, enjoy it with others, find out their points of view, know the myriad of ways that Jesus shows his love to us and to others. It is a way to let others know that we have found something too good to keep to ourselves. Though it seems that is often what Christians do these days. Now we are often ashamed of our Christian identity and won’t tell others what we know to be true in God’s story. We keep Jesus safely inside our sanctuary doors. Some might say that is where he belongs, inside the church. But Jesus’ was a ministry that wandered about, place to place. Come and see! he says. Everywhere he went, people came to see and went away telling of the amazing things they’d witnessed.

If John hadn’t witnessed and then testified to what he saw, Andrew would not have had anything to tell his brother Simon Peter. If Peter had not heard Andrew’s words and wanted to see for himself, he would not have witnessed the miracles that he saw as a disciple of which he told stories to others. That is how we have the Gospels and the Letters that make up our Bible. They are the written witnesses of those who wanted to share what they had heard and seen of the love of God in Christ Jesus.

It takes a willingness to muster our courage and be willing to take the risk to tell others what we have seen in Jesus Christ. It feels safe to talk about it here, inside these walls, but it is a harsh world beyond them that often does not welcome talk of religion, at least not beyond the status quo. That is why Christians often talk of ministering by example. It somehow seems easier for most of us to demonstrate rather than to speak of Christ’s love. In many cases it can even be more effective to ‘practice what you preach’ as the saying goes.

John was quite bold in his witnessing. He’d shout out, “Look! There goes the Son of God!” Even if we cannot bring ourselves to be quite so bold as individuals, we can be so bold as a community of faith. We can shout, with community services we can shout, with our mission work we can shout, with our facility we can shout, with whatever means we have, we can shout, “Look! Here is the Son of God. Come and see!” And some will come and see, and they will go out and tell others what they have seen. And they will tell others, who will tell others…. to the glory of God. Amen.

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[i] Texts for Preaching, Year A. Brueggemann, Couser, Gaventa.

Sermon: "By Water and the Spirit"

''By Water and the Spirit"

All baptisms have at least one thing in common. The water. Some churches have immersion tanks, some use natural rivers or springs. Some have big, elaborate, flowing fountains, some have lovely carved pedestal fonts, and some use a beautiful bowl. It doesn’t really matter where the water comes from, or how much of it there is, and, though some would argue, I don’t think it matters how much of the person gets wet. It is, after all, a symbol. The water is not doing the actual baptizing. Neither, for that matter, is the preacher, really. It’s about the God and the Holy Spirit. The water itself has no power to save, that power belongs to God alone.

The first year I arrived at seminary, the theme for the opening colloquium was “Remember Your Baptism.” I have to admit that about the only thing I remember about the colloquium was getting water flung at us from palm branches and thinking, “Glad I didn’t wear my glasses today,” after watching several annoyed folks wipe the water spots off of their eyewear. But the heart of the matter was to remind us that we had been washed clean of our sins and God’s Holy Spirit had been poured out upon us. It’s a good thing to remember as often as possible. That is one reason why we keep the font up front in a place of prominence in the sanctuary, so that it can be seen and serve as a visible reminder of the sacrament that sets us apart as beloved and chosen by God.

As Reformed Protestants, we have only two sacraments, communion and baptism. That ought to clue you in to how important the church views these acts. Both involve a union with Christ through the Holy Spirit—One through sharing his body and blood, and one through sharing the waters of renewal. At a baptism, God’s Holy Spirit comes to be with the person who promises to live a life according to the will of God by following the example of Christ Jesus. And the first example we follow is that of his baptism itself.

When John the Baptist sees Jesus coming to him for baptism, John is rather shocked. “What are you doing here? I can’t baptize you! You’re the one who should be baptizing me!” But Jesus calms him, saying, “Let it be so now.” In other words, don’t make a fuss. This is what needs to be done to fulfill all righteousness. 'Fulfilling righteousness' in this context means doing the work that God has given one to do. John's work is to announce the presence of the Messiah and the coming reign of God. By baptizing Jesus, John's mission is fulfilled. And it was at this point that the Spirit of God descends in the form of a dove and the voice of God is heard proclaiming, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

We hear very similar words spoken about the one known only as ‘the Servant’ in the Isaiah text. “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.” God sends the Spirit to empower the Servant to be able to do God’s work in the world. Once the Servant has received the Spirit, he is able to go about bringing justice to the nations, says Isaiah. And he will not grow faint or be crushed until this goal is brought about, says the Lord. Through the Holy Spirit, the Servant has the strength and power to serve God’s purpose, which, in this case, is justice.

Of course, we Christians can easily place Jesus in the role of this Servant. Especially when we hear Matthew’s words right next to Isaiah’s. I imagine it is to no one’s surprise to find Matthew drawing on words from Isaiah again here. But another parallel we certainly can draw is the initiation of the Servant, whoever it might be, into the work of God upon receiving the power of the Spirit. And since I am sure you are expecting me to say it, and since I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, I will tell you that we, too, can find ourselves in the role of servant, receiving the Spirit to initiate us into the ministry God has planned for us. We can always be sure that God has a purpose, a holy purpose, for us to fulfill. We, too, can bring about justice in the world. It is what the servant has been set aside to do. My own research leads me to believe that in Isaiah’s words, the Servant is a metaphor for the whole nation of Israel, God’s chosen people. Hey, wait! That’s us too! We’re God’s chosen people. We’re the Servant. We’re given the Spirit so we can have the power to bring about change for God’s creation, to bring about justice to the peoples of the earth.

God wants to work with his chosen people to bring about change in our broken world. But rather than leave us to it on our own, God equips us with the Holy Spirit, in order to do what the world regards as impossible. God brings about change through his chosen Servant who is empowered by the Spirit to work for God’s change. The impossible things suddenly become within reach and the order God intends for the world is attainable. God sends the Spirit as a gift, as an intimate connection with God, that we might better know and fulfill God’s will.

In the gospels, Jesus’ baptism marks the beginning of his ministry. He receives the empowering Holy Spirit, that intimate connection, and we hear God proclaim Jesus as his beloved Son. Jesus receives the Spirit to be able to do the impossible, to thwart the powers of death and destruction by rising from the grave and taking upon himself the sins of the world. The Servant, in any guise, by any name, is the instrument for God’s Spirit to work in the world to bring about newness. It is change that can only be wrought with the power of God’s Spirit behind it.

Just as Jesus’ baptism was his inauguration into ministry, so it is ours. That is why the questions asked at baptism are similar to the ones asked at ordinations. They are both commissions into a life of service with and for Christ. When we are baptized, it is into the body of Christ, and as such we are commissioned to be obedient, faithful servants and to follow the path blazed by the unique Son of God. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking that baptism is simply for your personal salvation! Oh no! It is also an initiation into the church of Christ, an ordination into the priesthood of all believers-and one of the biggest reasons why we never do private baptisms in the Presbyterian Church. We are all members of the one Body of Christ and we make our promises in full view of the community and the community makes promises to us in return.

At Jesus’ own baptism, God is publically claiming Jesus as his beloved. It is exactly the same at our own baptisms. God is publicly claiming us as God’s own beloved children. We use water to symbolize not only the washing away of sins, but the pouring out of God’s love and Holy Spirit upon us. God sends the Spirit down upon Jesus, showing the world that God is promising to be with him throughout his life and ministry, just as God promises us at our baptisms to be with us throughout our own lives and ministries, no matter what form they may take. God, in full view of the world, shows his favor and shows Jesus’ chosen and holy status as Son of God. We are chosen by God to join the faithful followers of Christ. Baptism is God’s love and promise in full view of the world. The water is a visible reminder of the invisible Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives. Augustine called the sacraments, including baptism, “an outward sign of an inward and spiritual grace.”

Let us not forget, the water also reminds us of our cleansing from sin. As we are washed clean by the water, all our sins are forgiven and we become free from the power and corruption of sin by the baptism of the Holy Spirit into our lives. Jesus did not need to be cleansed of sin, but he washed in the water that would cleanse the same sinners he came to save, to be in solidarity with the very people he loved enough to give his life for. He did it “to fulfill all righteousness” says Matthew. In his full divinity, he did not need baptism; in his full humanity, he became one with those he came to save. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that we are united with Christ, united with each other in him, and to his life, his death, his resurrection, and yes, his baptism. And that is power, power greater than all the mighty waters of this earth, power enough to bring about justice and change to God’s creation. And we have this power, given to us at our baptism. Given to us in the intimate gift of God’s Holy Spirit so that we might be instruments of God’s love in the world and bring about God’s kingdom on earth. In the words of St. Francis, “Lord, make me an instrument…” And so we pray, Come, Spirit, Come! Amen.

Sermon: "Home By Another Way"

“Home by Another Way”

We go a little backwards in our gospel readings today. Last week we heard the story of Herod and his fear of this new king born in his territory and his subsequent killing of all the young male children in his kingdom to try to prevent said new king from growing up and taking over the throne that Herod wanted for his own children. We usually hear it referred to as “The Slaughtering of the Innocents.” But this week we go backwards to the story of the wise men arriving to worship that child-king at his home in Bethlehem. This was when Herod first heard of this threat to his royal lineage; it all started with those wise men.

Those wise men, who were most likely scholars of magic or some sort of astrologers, those wise men show up in Judea, asking about a child born there who was to grow up and be a king. They were really just looking for more specific directions; stars can be kind of vague, I suppose. They may have assumed that everyone had heard of his birth, that the star was just as obvious to everyone else as it was to them. So where is this kid? We know he’s here in Judea somewhere. They seemed to know they were looking for a child, so they didn’t waste much time with Herod, since he obviously wasn’t the king they were after. They’d just stopped in as a courtesy.

Herod is thrown for a loop when these magi show up. What are they talking about? A new king? This is the first he’d heard about it and he wants to know what’s up. After checking with his own court wise men as well as the Jewish scribes and Pharisees, Herod finds that there is indeed some minor reference to a new ruler for Israel coming out of Bethlehem, but it’s from a pretty old bit of prophecy in Micah that no one had really thought would ever come to pass, nothing to get really excited about. Herod figured on saving his own servants (and the royal coffers) a reconnaissance mission by having these foreigners go up to Bethlehem and scope things out for him, just in case. He pretends that he’s interested in wishing this new king well and asks the magi to go with his blessing. Just like welcoming a new neighbor, he insists. He wants to give a tribute to the new guy and wish him a long and prosperous reign. Yeah, right.

But since there was probably something of a language barrier between the magi and Herod, they don’t seem to suspect right away that he’s a phony. So, they get on their way. They have brought their own gifts for this king. They don’t really know much about him, except that their astrological calculations show that he’s somebody pretty important. As I mentioned before, they do seem to know they are looking for a child, at least according to Matthew. He also tells us they were pretty excited when they found him, “overwhelmed with joy,” to quote the Gospel. They had been traveling for a long time. Matthew doesn’t say exactly how far they have come, but it took a long time to get anywhere in those days, so we have to assume that it was quite a journey. Most scholars assume that “the East” Matthew refers to was the kingdom of Persia, which is now Iran and the surrounding area, a pretty good trek in those days.

I suspect their arrival caused quite a stir. Even Mary who knew the divine status of her son, probably hadn’t been a hostess to foreign dignitaries before. She probably had to rush around to find enough chairs, and call on neighbors and family to borrow enough food and drink to offer them hospitality. I can only imagine the people peering in the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of these visitors and wondering why in the world they were visiting at the carpenter’s home. There would definitely have been a stir if anyone had caught sight of the gifts they offered to the child.

As is so much of Matthew’s writing, the arrival of the magi is shown to be a fulfillment of Scripture. That was one of Matthew’s main agendas, making sure to point out that the happenings surrounding Jesus were fulfillments of the earlier Jewish prophecies. I spoke about it a few weeks ago, noting that this is Matthew’s way of giving legitimacy to his own writings as well as to the legacy of Jesus himself.

These magi, at least according to Matthew, are aware that this child is hailed as king of the Jews, and they have come to worship him, though they themselves are not Jews. They have followed a star; no map, no compass, no GPS. And since they weren’t Jewish, they didn’t have the prophetic scriptures to look at either. But they still know that this kid is important enough that they travel a long distance in order to find him and offer up gold and expensive resins in his honor. So they must have divined that he was pretty important. Enough that they came with their treasures themselves and did not just send the gifts by Fed-Ex camel. Maybe they were just too curious about that star to not follow it themselves. Either way, they could tell it was leading them to something, or someone, really important.

But I’ll tell you what, it’s not the following of the star, it’s not the meeting with Herod, and it’s not even so much the worshipping of the Christ Child that got me really pondering this text. I have been haunted by the fact that they went home by another way.

Those wise men started out as agents of Herod's destructive agenda, though most likely unwittingly, by seeking out the child to report back to Herod where he was and who he was. Up until the last moment, it was their intent to retrace their steps and return to Herod’s palace and make a full report, just as he had asked, supposing that he wanted to honor the new king, just as they did.

But the night before they are to leave, they get a warning. Not another star or a prophecy, but a dream. A dream that warned them that Herod was up to no good. So all at once they are turned around by this dream, not on the path back to Herod with the information, but a path that protects this child. It was as though once they had offered their gifts and worshipped this new king, once they had come face to face with what was Right and True, they could no longer continue along the old route.

They found that the star had led them to more than just a king, but a Messiah. And not just a Messiah for the Jews, but for all people. I find in interesting that the first people who come to worship the Christ child are foreigners (remember, there are no shepherds in Matthew’s telling), so these magi are the first in this account, not Jews who have been looking for the fulfillment of these prophecies for generations, not even a next door neighbor or someone from the same city. Didn’t they notice the star? Weren’t they curious about it? No, it was these wise men, who’d traveled quite some distance to find him, who were the first. And they worshipped him as a king, not as a prophet, not as a nice guy, but a king, a ruler, a leader of people with divine right, though they may not have realized just quite how divine. Jesus was as much their Messiah as he was the Jews.

When the wise men were warned by a dream not to report back to Herod, they knew why they had to sneak out of the country on a different road than the one they came in on. There was something so obviously special about this child, that they knew they must protect him from discovery and harm. So they went home by another way. They deviated from their planned route, maybe even taking a longer and harder road, just to keep Herod away from this little boy who would become the Savior of his people.

Isn't that what our own encounter with Christ does for us? He guides us off our familiar, planned paths. We can no longer follow on the way we intended. Our trajectory is forever changed.

Epiphany, indeed.

The definition that Merriam-Webster’s offers up for epiphany is “an illuminating discovery or a revealing moment.” That’s the one we usually think of for epiphany, an “ah-ha moment” if you will. But they also post this definition: “an intuitive grasp of reality through something (such as an event) usually simple and striking.”

And how true for those magi. They come face to face with a tiny baby, something so simple and striking, and the path they are on changes dramatically. The way they looked at their mission became radically different when they met the Christ child. They were no longer to report his location, they must now protect it. They became not just travelers, not just worshippers, but guardians. An intuitive grasp of reality as seen in the eyes of a child, stark and simple.

Listening to God, whether in a dream or in our prayers, or however it is that God comes to us, well, that can always shift our trajectory and cause us the need to consider a new route. It happened to the wise men, it happened to the disciples, it happens to us.

When we come face to face with Jesus, our paths will be changed. We cannot continue the way we were going. Once we have committed to worshipping the Christ, we will have to go home by another way. It is an intuitive grasp of reality. The reality of love incarnate, the reality of death on a cross, and the reality of a resurrection that says that death is not the final word. That is what we intuitively grasp when we follow the new path laid out for us by Christ. A path that makes straight the desert highway, where every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill made low and the uneven ground shall become level and the rough places a plain. Then, says Isaiah, then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed.

Epiphany, indeed. Amen.

Thanks to Cheesehead whose words from the lectionary discussion board appear in a couple of place here. They are really what this sermon was build around. Inspiration, indeed.

"Are you the One?"

Scriptures: Isaiah 35:1-10; Matt. 11:2-11
by Rivkah

Poor John the Baptist has landed himself in prison. No more desert wandering for a while for him. Of course, that’s what he gets for pointing out Herod’s indiscretions with his sister-in-law. Yet, locked away as he is, he is still able to prepare the people for Jesus’ ministry. He, like Jesus, has disciples to go out for him. So, while he is cooped up in prison, they go on an errand to find out a little bit more about Jesus and what he is doing.

"Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for someone else?” It seems like John more than anyone else, ought to already know the answer to that question. It reminds me of the words of Ebenezer Scrooge from Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” “Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?” Even though he can see quite clearly that it is a spirit and he knew to expect it, he still has to ask. I almost expect to hear the spirit spit back, "Well, yeah, who else would I be?”But Scrooge, even knowing the spirit would be there, asks because it is always hard to believe when a spirit shows up.

The same is true for John. He knows that the Messiah will show up. He even knows who it is. After all, he baptized Jesus only recently. But it is a little hard to grasp when he finally shows up. “Are you the one who is to come?” The question is more along the lines of: “Is it really you? I see you, but I hardly believe my own eyes!” What John sees is Jesus performing miracles and teaching in the temple. Perhaps he only asks so his disciples to go find Jesus so they can go find out what Jesus’ own answer is. Or perhaps he was getting a little antsy that Jesus wasn’t doing what a Messiah ought to be doing. Certainly not healing the sick, and teaching about helping the poor and oppressed.

From all indications, this is not what the first century Jews expected from their Messiah. They wanted justice and punishment for the criminals (read the Romans) and probably some theatrical raining of fire and brimstone, a burning bush or two, and maybe even a fiery sword to smite their enemies. So it’s no wonder that John is asking, "Are you the one, or are we supposed to wait for somebody else?” Maybe even somebody better, with a little more flash.

And admittedly, he was probably not surprised by Jesus’ answer, but maybe a little disappointed. In fact, most of the Jews were disappointed. Where was the mighty ruler of armies? Where was the warrior to overthrow their oppressors? From the perspective of those Jews, Jesus had more of an air of prophet than Messiah. Even Elisha had cleansed a leper and raised a boy from the dead. Of course John asks, “are you the one?” Even if he knew the answer, it never hurts to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. And of course, in typical Jesus fashion, he never just says, ”yes,” or “no.” He actually just tells John’s disciples to go and report what they have seen and heard. That makes for significant room for interpretation, especially since what they have seen and heard looked a lot like what the prophets of old were doing. But it also looked a lot like what the prophets of old said the Messiah would be doing. Isaiah says that the blind will see, the deaf will hear, the lame shall leap, and the mute will sing for joy. All of these, and more, are the signs of the Messiah. But Jesus leaves the interpretation of the signs up to John and his disciples. It makes sense that way; people will believe what they want to believe. Either way, the Messiah has come to make the final judgment. Only it isn’t the way that the Jews originally thought it would be. To John, a fierce denouncer of the sins of the people, a Messiah would be the type to lay waste to those who commit wrong, especially those who commit wrong against Israel. John was a fiery sword, “woe to you,” kind of guy.

I have to admit, I hope that’s not what we get for Jesus’ return. Flaming chariots and raining brimstone aren’t my thing. Maybe it’s the fire hazard, but I’d rather we see the healing and teaching, personally. Though probably not if my people had spent hundreds of years under oppressive rule and were waiting for a liberator. Not if my city were under a corrupt authority, cheating me and my friends out of a hard earned wage that was way below what was paid to the Roman citizens. No, if that were the case, I’d feel just like John and the rest. I’d want someone to come and sweep it all clean.

“Are you the one?” It’s a very legitimate question when what you are expecting gets turned on its head. I don’t know what to expect anymore. What will we get when Jesus returns? Will we get the Gospel Jesus, healing and teaching peace? Will we get the Messiah that the Jews expected the first time around, brandishing a flaming sword and stamping out corruption and oppression with death and destruction? There are a plethora of theories out there about Jesus' return. Some think he has already returned and spoken to their leaders. I, personally, have stopped trying to imagine what it will be like. Once I conceded that God’s capabilities were beyond my comprehension, I decided that it was pointless to try and imagine what God could do.

I’m sure that’s how the first Christmas felt, too. A virgin having a baby, putting him in a manger, angels singing to shepherds, wise men traveling from far away with only a star to follow. It’s beyond what anyone could have imagined, especially for the coming of the Messiah. It’s no wonder John asks, “Are you the one?” And who wouldn’t be confused? Jesus doesn’t even use language that would seem appropriate to a Messiah. No warrior language, no might and power here. Just language drawn from the lives of shepherds and fishermen. It’s no wonder so many people missed it. It’s no wonder that even John is questioning him. Wouldn’t we miss it too? Or perhaps, dis-miss it, even? Often when people speak about peace and justice they are easily ignored as idealists. Do they live in the real world? Can’t they see that it will never happen? It would take the world turning upside down before we could have peace and justice as the rule rather than the exception.

But that is what our job as Christians would have us do. We are to work to turn the world upside down until Christ can come again and finish the job he started. Jesus began the work of turning things on their heads. Of course it is upside down to hear the muted tongue speak or see the lame leap like deer. Of all the things we don't expect, we can expect the Messiah to turn things on their heads. And Jesus is so good at that. Even from the start, from being born of a virgin and laid in a manger with shepherds to welcome him into the world to speaking in parables that upset much of the Jewish Scripture and preaching to crowds of thousands while feeding them with only a few fish and some bread.

I can only imagine the number of people who asked Jesus, “Who are you?” even after seeing the miracles he’d performed and hearing the parables he preached. And then after considering for a moment those same miracles and parables asking, “Are you the one who is to come?” John had to have had some doubts, I think to ask that question of Jesus. Even if he was sending the disciples to get an answer for their own sakes, he must have wondered on occasion if he’d gotten the right guy at the River Jordan. He could have just sent the disciples, saying, “Go and see what the Messiah is up to.” But instead he asks, “Are you the one who is to come?” He needed to make sure for himself as well as his followers. Maybe he just needed to know if he was wasting his time. “Should we wait for another?” If Jesus was the real McCoy, John needed to know. It was John’s job to know since he was supposed to be preparing the way for the Messiah. John needed to make sure he was preparing the way for the right guy, even if this guy didn’t act much like a Messiah ought to.

So if even John the Baptist, the one who was supposed to be preparing the way for the coming of the Messiah wasn’t sure who he was looking for, how are we supposed to know who to look for? Would we even listen to someone like John if he came to tell us that the Messiah was coming again? Probably not. Most likely we’d shake our heads at the poor crazy or lock him away out of sight and mind. We come with our own notions of what we think the Messiah ought to be doing to save the world. We even have our own thoughts about who should and shouldn’t be saved, as well as how and when. And it's precisely those notions that the Messiah will turn on their heads. Is it any wonder that John had to come first to get people ready for Jesus’ message?It would take anyone some time to let the idea of the Messiah sink in. Of course, we’ve had two thousand some years now to get ready for his return. Yet, I’m still not sure we’re prepared for that momentous event. We might be looking to our left and the Messiah will appear on our right. Even when they were told what to look for, the people of Israel still doubted. They had in their minds what they thought the Messiah ought to be and do. They had forgotten what the prophets had told them. They had ignored the signs that were given to fulfill the words of the prophets. Even John the Baptist was not immune to it all.

We cannot and should not be complacent thinking that we will just know the Messiah when we see him. Even the Jews who were told by Isaiah and several other prophets what to look for did not recognize him in their midst. Only when we see the world being turned upside down, can we start asking, “Are you the one?” And, like John, we will probably have to decide for ourselves if we want to believe that actions speak louder than words. Even if the Messiah returned right now, even if he fulfilled the prophecies to a T, I think we would still be justified in asking, “Are you the one who is to come?” Do my eyes deceive me, or are you really the Messiah?

John, even with his doubts, I think wanted to believe that Jesus was “the one who is to come.” Haven’t you ever asked a question that you were pretty sure you knew the answer to, just to be absolutely certain you were right? That may have been what John was doing. Just like Scrooge’s spirits, he can see that Jesus is indeed the one “whose coming was foretold,” but it is still hard to believe when the miraculous occurs. For us, it is even harder. Do we even know what signs to look for? Do we look to the same prophecies that Isaiah gives us or will they be different this time around? Do we look for another John the Baptist to herald the second coming? What are we to look for? What has been foretold to us? Well, it’s hard to say, honestly. That’s why I think it is always ok to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” At least if we are asking, we are not forgetting that God’s promise of the return of the Messiah will, indeed, be fulfilled. At least if we are asking, we are seeking the Messiah’s return. Asking means we believe that it will happen, that God will indeed be with us again. O come, O come Emmanuel! Amen.

Any Day Now

"Any Day Now"
Romans 13:11-14, Matthew 24:36-44

Ah, Advent… This time of year there’s a lot of preparations to be made. We prepare for Christmas in a frenzy of gift buying and wrapping, cookie baking, party hosting, tree buying, light stringing, house decorating, and the list goes on.
And you have had other preparations to make as well. You’ve been preparing for a new pastor, and preparing to welcome her and her family into your fold. Together we’ll prepare for an ordination and installation to be held here later this month. I can’t imagine anyone being asleep. There’s a lot to get done!
I imagine there was a time when you were feeling like Matthew when it came to the matter of getting a pastor. “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” You’ve waited a long time! I also imagine it may be something of a relief to many of you, especially the PNC.

However, unlike waiting for the arrival of a new pastor we don’t get a start date or a first Sunday for Christ’s return. Both Paul and Matthew are telling us that there is no way we can know when to expect Christ to return to earth. They tell us to be ready, but not when it will happen. Both of our authors were awaiting Jesus to come back at any time. It is very likely that most of Jesus’ earliest followers expected his return very soon—certainly within their own lifetime. Paul and Matthew’s advice to their readers reflected this attitude. There is a sense of urgency to their words, expressing a need to be aware of the passing of each day until Christ’s return. Paul is letting us know that salvation is getting closer and closer, Matthew says that it will creep up on us, like a thief in the night. It’s not something we can pencil in on our day-planners. Not even the angels nor the Son of Man himself know, says Matthew.

During Advent, it’s hard to keep track of anything, much less the passing of each day. We’re so busy trying to find the right gifts, throw the right parties, and bake all those cookies that the time slips away from us and Christmas is over before we know it. We get so caught up waiting for the baby to be born, that we miss his coming again. It’s not something that we keep in the forefront of our minds this time of year. Our preoccupation with keeping the holidays “merry and bright” also keeps us from the focus of the season. Or rather, we get so caught up with the thought of Christmas itself that we forget about preparing for it. Oh, sure, we prepare everything else from our homes, inside and out, to our cars with the light up wreaths on the front grills. We even prepare our churches, changing the colors of the paraments, setting up the Advent wreath with its candles, some even devote their lawns to a living nativity, donkeys and all.
But we forget to prepare ourselves. We’re ready for the glitz and glam of the holiday parties, we easily prepare for a night out by buying new clothes, fixing hair and make-up, donning jewels and spiffy ties. It’s so much easier to get the outside ready than the inside. But what if Jesus came while we were all out at a holiday party? Or what if we were so busy shopping that we missed the heralding angels?

You’ll notice that the stole I am wearing and the vestments here in the sanctuary are purple and they will remain so throughout Advent. You might recall the other season that uses purple is Lent. Lent is a time in our church calendar that we use for repentance and reflection. We are preparing ourselves for Easter. The reason that Advent and Lent share colors, is that the church believes that Advent and Lent share that need for reflection and preparation. Some traditions have a much more solemn time during Advent, preparing for Christ’s birth much the same way we prepare for Easter. Yet it is much nicer to think about preparing for a celebration of a birth than a mourning of a death.

But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? There is a celebration for Easter, and it’s the main event we’re preparing for anyway. We get a little caught up in the death part because we’re so stoic for 6 weeks and only celebratory on Easter day itself. That was how Advent and Christmas originally worked. Like Lent and Easter, people were meditative and repentant leading up to the holy day and then celebrated only after the dawning of that day. They would then celebrate for the twelve days following Christmas up until Epiphany. That’s how the world’s longest Christmas tune came about.
Am I saying that we need to give up the festive holiday air that surrounds Advent? No, but I am saying that it might not hurt to share a little of the contemplative and repentant spirit of Lent at this time of year. That is one way that we can take the words of our Scripture today to heart. It is just one way we can strive to be ready for that unexpected hour.
It’s easy to recognize the common thread in Paul and Matthew’s words--it’s time. We never seem to have enough of it, we keep wasting it, and it’s getting shorter and shorter, at least according to Paul. It’s Paul who is really challenging us to reflect on how we use our time. He warns us to keep an eye on the clock, wake up from our sleep. “The night is far gone,” he says, “the day is near.” And because it is near, he says, we need to get our acts together- leave off the reveling and drunkenness,and debauchery and licentiousness, and quarreling and jealousy, and… well, you get the idea.

Paul makes the analogy of living as in the day. I can see why that makes sense. Anyone who has been to a big city understands that daytime is a much safer time than the night. Honest business is conducted during the day, when the buildings are full of employees. We can see by the light of the sun, there are no scary shadows where the unknown can hide. Night is when drug dealers and prostitutes walk the streets, promoting licentiousness and debauchery. Night is when the revelers from the clubs drive hom