On Authoritarianism, and Have We Reached Our 'Bonhoeffer Moment?'

Friends, I want to share a particularly poignant resource, and also add my thoughts on the question that has been circulating among clergy and people of faith: Where is Bonhoeffer in all of this, and/or, have we arrived at the Bonhoeffer moment?

This was an excellent discussion on authoritarianism this morning on NPR's "On Point." I highly recommend it. It's about an hour, and I believe a transcript will be available within the next day or so.

https://www.wbur.org/onpoint/2020/10/29/america-authoritarian-threat-government-democracy

I do feel, after hearing this, and looking at the other readily available signs (Trump's own words in his speeches; policies of his staff; reports from NPR, NY Times, and similarly reputable news sources on the activities of the militias, supporters, police, ICE, etc.), that we are plausibly headed into some form of a civil war following this election--even if there were a landslide for Biden. The question I raise for voters is: do you want Trump to have the full force command of the military, police, intelligence services, ICE, and militias behind him--where we will have to rely on people in these forces to conscientiously object or abandon their posts; or do we want Trump to no longer have access to that firepower, except for the militias and the loyalists he has in the military and police? 

I do not put it past Trump to try to harm Biden if he wins; based on the statements he has made about Biden 'being shot three weeks into his term and Kamala taking over.' While Trump has since walked back his statement to say that 'being shot' means Biden wouldn't have the stamina--a recurrent theme; it could also be seen as a dog whistle or invitation to the same kinds of folks who were plotting to kidnap Governor Whitmer in Michigan.

I do not put it past Trump to enact as many human rights violations as he can against as many marginalized groups as he can, including the deportation blitz recently referenced in the news from a White House leak, immediately following the election--perhaps regardless of whether he wins. I also expect Trump will pardon each of his associates who have been convicted of crimes in the process of aiding his rise to power or corruption since taking office. I do believe it is plausible that Trump is using the pandemic as a means of passively eliminating the groups he believes are 'undesirables:' the poor, immigrants, racial-ethnic minorities, people with disabilities and chronic health conditions, the elderly, those living in institutionalized settings. As it became clear that the virus was largely sparing those who could afford to self-isolate by not having to work and being able to have all needs delivered; and that those who had access to high-quality healthcare are more likely to survive; Trump's response to the pandemic shifted. Life-saving aid to benefit the most vulnerable has been stopped, such as unemployment supplements that raised many impoverished workers to a living wage, food assistance supplements, and direct stimulus aid to every household. Activities known to spread the pandemic are being promoted: unmasked large social gatherings such as rallies and church, in particular. While the people boldly participating in these activities. I do even believe that the impeachment at the beginning of this year was a type of 'trial run' for holding on to power this fall: in the end, even though there seemed to be little disagreement on the facts of the case itself, Congress declined to convict. I believe that there was at least some realization among Congress that there were enough white nationalist sympathizers among the police and military, along with growing white militia activity, that any attempt to force Trump from office involuntarily would lead to significant armed resistance. Far better, perhaps, to pass the buck until the election in the fall. And now here we are, with the threat of violence on the horizon once again, as evidenced in Trump's own speeches.

One of the statements that did give me bleak encouragement was that if Trump did hold on to power and do his worst, that perhaps Canada would re-open the border so people could escape; please, friends--update your passports and other essential papers. Not only may some of us need to be prepared to move from our homes to safer neighborhoods, communities, states, or countries; we may indeed need to help others get to safety with our vehicles, fundraising, and networks.

So many folks have asked already, "Are we at the Bonhoeffer moment?" or "Where is Bonhoeffer in all of this?" We remember that Bonhoeffer was not a famous, powerful church leader in life; but a simple pastor and professor whose work was relatively unknown until after his death. We also remember that Bonhoeffer was arrested and executed for his part in a plot to assassinate Hitler. So, while we have so many good everyday pastors and professors, faithful and true, who have resisted the lies of Nationalism and the Christian Nationalist movement; who are speaking up from their pulpits and writing to their audiences about the need to realize what is happening and who is suffering; no friends--that Bonhoeffer moment is not yet here.

The Bonhoeffer moment arrived when there were no more options available to German people of good conscience; when Hitler could no longer be stopped from within; and most importantly--when the seemingly random and rare occurrences of daily oppression moved into the Final Solution: systematic, mass deportation, concentration, and extermination of the groups of people deemed enemies of the State: Jews; foreigners, racial-ethnic minorities; Roma (Gypsies); LGBTQIA+ people; people with disabilities; people who were too sick to labor in the camps; dissidents, and anyone who resisted. This was after the removal of dissidents from the universities and government; after the silencing of the major media to the crimes of the State; after all borders and routes to escape incarceration and death were closed; and after all of the everyday German citizenry were too worn down themselves by the war, the decade of economic collapse that preceded it, and the all-consuming everyday struggles brought by both, to realize or process fully what was going on--or to separate the benefits they believed the State was bringing them from the horrors enacted against the Others. We are quite plausibly on the road to that end, if unabated; but no, we are not yet at the point where it would be morally reasonable for us as clergy to participate in an effort to assassinate our Head of State.

Rather, the moment that is here, now, is for all of us, and everyone around us, to vote. We are to vote; to encourage calm and reason to prevail in these next weeks around the election and ballot counting; to preach and teach the fundamental human worth and dignity of all people; and to attend to the needs of our communities--shepherding our people who despair, who are lonely, who are hungry, who are cold. We are also to be watchful for signs and declarations that our nation intends to engage in mass concentration, incarceration, deportation, and execution of marginalized groups of people, which could plausibly happen within the next six months.

These times may seem bleak. The most recent reports tell us that these present hardships and disruptions of the pandemic are likely with us for another two years, into 2022. Our society will be coming to terms with the psychological stress and trauma and the biological and economic impact as well) from this experience for a solid 3-5 years after the pandemic begins to wane. It may remain with us in a less lethal form for the foreseeable future thereafter. This will consume an enormous amount of our energies. Neither will our political troubles be over within the next few months, regardless of the outcome of the election; even if we are able to attain a peaceable outcome to the election, we still have the long, difficult work ahead of us of undoing systems of historic injustice. This, too, will consume a good deal of our energies, as it ought.

And yet, friends, despite these present challenges, I do not give up hope; I believe that while each person may not be held accountable in court or custody, that somehow yet justice may prevail; that somehow yet children in cages will be freed and reunited with their families; that somehow yet we could begin taking common sense measures to contain the pandemic; and that somehow yet, we will walk back from the brink of fascism in this country. At least while we have so many people who do deeply desire the common good, for all people, we have hope.

The Letter and the Spirit

Matthew 5:21-37; Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Psalm 119:1-8; 1 Corinthians 3:1-9

(look these up on biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org.)

Last week, the Gospel raised some uncomfortable questions.  You might remember Jesus’ saying (Matt. 5:17-18) “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets.  I have come not to abolish, but to fulfill.  Truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter nor one stroke of a letter will pass from the law until all is accomplished.”  When I read the Gospel for this morning, I really wanted to handle these passages together, because they do sound just a little bit ominous and perhaps even provoke a certain sense of fear—especially these verses about tearing out eyes and cutting off hands and going to hell and so forth.

So what on earth does Jesus mean?  Last week it all sounded so inspiring: Be salt.  Be light.  This week the teachings seem so hard.  So where I would like to start addressing this question is with...Love.

Love is the message of the Gospel and the measure of the law.

What I believe Jesus is trying to say in these texts is that there are plenty of opportunities to merely follow the letter of the law, without putting our heart into it.  Other times, we follow both the letter and the spirit of the law.  Probably more often than not, we even know when we are doing this.  We might call it ‘going through the motions.’  We might wonder what we can get away with, rather than wondering how we might, say, go the extra mile.  Or we might also head to the other extreme, which is becoming legalistic, too committed to the letter of the law to recognize the spirit.

Why do we do this?  Sometimes I think it’s because we’re overwhelmed by all those "opportunities," the long list of choices we have to make every day.  Or perhaps we’re angry or tired, or convinced we know better, or whatever. Sometimes I think it’s because we’re afraid of being hurt if we truly put our heart into something or make ourselves vulnerable to one another. 

And yet, what a relief often comes when we know we have truly put our heart into something, especially the example Jesus gives of going to be reconciled to a person you know you’ve hurt, before making your offering in worship.  This being Valentine’s weekend, it reminds me of an adage that’s kept harmony in our own home:  “You can be ‘right,’ or you can be married.”  And then there’s Jesus' example of adversaries going into court:  you could litigate to the very bitter end, spending all your energy and money in the process—or you could find a way to settle before it gets there…and be able to get on with the rest of your lives.  Anyone who’s been through painful litigation, even a divorce, can probably resonate with that.

And yet, to reconcile or to settle is not to act as if you’ve never caused harm, or been harmed, as the case may be, or as if whatever happened didn’t matter.  Jesus isn’t talking about cheap grace.  Rather, love holds each other accountable to our actions within the life of the community.

Accountability for our actions is also what makes forgiveness possible.  Forgiveness isn’t forgetting, because mere forgetting fails to acknowledge the existence of the law in the first place, or that there was ever a need to be forgiven when we have failed one another.  I would even say that forgetting is harder than forgiving, because somewhere on down the line, something will happen that will bring back that memory, and it will probably still hurt, maybe even with a hurt as fresh and raw as the day it happened.  We probably all have enough of our own examples already.  Forgiving is both acknowledging the truth of events, and loving either one another or even ourselves, enough to let go of that hurt’s grip on the rest of our lives.  In doing so, we choose to truly live.

Now, that’s not easy.  We probably couldn’t fathom doing such a thing as forgiving others, or asking someone else to forgive us, without the help of God, who first forgave us and freed us to forgive one another and to be forgiven.  And even more practically speaking, we need our community around us, to hold us accountable, and to help us through the process of forgiveness, when we have failed to fulfill our obligations to one another.

++

The last few weeks here have been a bit of a blur and today, this final day, and final worship service, and final hour of service to you as your pastor, has come around really rather quickly.  I realized as this day was drawing near that there was no possible way to make all the visits, or phone calls, or even to write all the notes that I would have liked to do.  It would not be possible to follow through on every request, or even every hope for projects I wanted to complete before going.  And I was deeply distressed about not being able to ‘do it all.’

Then, in preparation for today, I read through the liturgy that we’ll be using at the end of the worship service, which brings a prayerful end to our ministry together, and I found it very comforting. 

I realized then what a gift it is in this liturgy that we will use today, to simply ask forgiveness for all the things I could not do.  It is a gift to be forgiven, even in the midst of celebrating and remembering all the things that have been done, the visits and calls made and projects completed and hopes realized and all the good things of these past two years as well. 

And, I realized, that I would have to rely on the Christian community that is present in this place, to care for everyone and help those in need, after today when I am no longer able to do so.  I also realized that I would have to put my trust in God, and in whoever comes to take my place, that the work of ministry and pastoral care will continue.

Paul put it so well when he wrote that one of us might plant and another water, but it is God who gives the growth.  We are each called to our times and means of serving, and we each have gifts through which we may share God’s love, which is the common purpose for everything we do.  I realize today that we may, some of us, not see each other again in this lifetime, but will only be reunited in heaven.  We have been God’s servants, working together; you are God’s servants and God’s building.  I give thanks for you, and for the time we have shared together.  I love you, and I leave you with peace.

Amen.

Hymns:  Thy Word Is A Lamp Unto My Feet, Seek Ye First, We Are One In The Spirit, Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace

Prayers This Week For:

+People of Syria

+All who struggle with the winter weather

+All who are in entrenched conflicts or struggling with relationships

Reconciled in Christ, Called to Be Disciples

Third Sunday After the Epiphany

Isaiah 9:1-4, Psalm 27:1, 4-9; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23

(look these up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

credit: www.providencecpc.org

These past three weeks we've been following the Gospel story of the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, and the interactions he's had with his long-lost cousin, John the Baptist--who has had quite the public ministry himself, heralding the arrival of the Messiah he did not immediately recognize, and sent his followers to see if he was really 'the One,' then Jesus came out to John to be baptized in the Jordan, and the heavens parted to anoint Jesus for this public ministry.  Next, John began proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, and sent his own followers to become some of Jesus' first disciples.  And now, John has been arrested, his own public ministry coming to an end, and Jesus begins to proclaim: 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near.'  

The Gospel goes on to say that Jesus went about Galilee teaching the good news of the kingdom of God, and calling more people to become his disciples.

Now, to be honest, even as a pastor, the words, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near," do not immediately strike me as good news.  Actually, it sounds like maybe slightly scary news.  Maybe you even grew up feeling the same way.  Part of this, I think, is in the word 'repent.'  Repent means to turn away from one thing, and turn towards something else.  

Since the kingdom of heaven is good news, to repent means to turn away from the bad news!  But what bad news could that be?  Given the time and place in which Jesus was speaking, I could imagine several things: believing it's a dog-eat-dog world, that there's not enough to go around, that the future is hopeless, that your past mistakes condemn you to a life of shame; and even just the basic human divisions among religious and ethnic groups and nationalities in the Mediterranean crescent.  Also, there was the military occupation of the Roman empire, the reality of slavery, having your country overthrown and ending up in exile, ongoing wars, and so forth.

The good news, by contrast, is love: God is a loving, involved, forgiving God, and we can live in a world where we treat one another with love!

Now, the very idea that you might love someone outside your own ethnic or religious group, let alone a total stranger, not from your own tribe or town--or even an enemy with some threat of violence towards you, such as a Roman soldier--the very idea is enormously revolutionary!

And it makes all the sense in the world, these past few weeks as we've studied the relationship between John the Baptist and Jesus, and John's followers who are now becoming Jesus' disciples--it makes sense that the followers of John would be suspicious of another traveling teacher coming to town.  After all, in the Greco-Roman world, it wasn't only John the Baptist and Jesus, but hundreds of wandering philosophers spouting advice and making proclamations, usually in exchange for money.  This economic enterprise was so pervasive in the society that even after the death and resurrection of Jesus, even within the Christian community, Paul is still trying to address the problem.  In Corinth, there are divisions among those who have been baptized by different early church leaders.  However, the baptism is in Christ, and the community is in Christ--and this ties back into the story of the original reconciliation of followers between John and Jesus.

That was a long time ago, and yet I think this can be tough for us even today.  This past week has been the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, which is not always the best-publicized Christian festival, but no less necessary.  How often do we say, "I belong to the Presbyterian church, the Lutheran church, the UCC, the Baptists, the Catholics, etc?"  Yet, we belong to the Christian church.  We are one body in Christ.  

That's not to say that there aren't multiple valid ways of teaching and preaching and ministering to one another within the Christian community; not that there aren't multiple versions even of the Gospel stories--each varies from one another at least a little, and really, that's alright. Unity is not uniformity.  Unity is not the absence of difference.  Difference does not have to mean division, retreating into one's own little camps and eyeing anyone else with suspicion.

Yet, it's so easy to fall into this trap, that we have to keep reminding ourselves of the bigger picture, the gift of love, a love large enough to cast out fear.  Love is not naivete; love holds one another accountable, but does not exact revenge or even pettiness.  Love listens, even in times of disagreement.  Love realizes that the other people involved are also children of God.

One last thing.  I've been thinking today about these passages which talk about light:  The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?  Or, the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, a light greater than the depths of darkness they have seen in their lifetimes--even such despair that it seemed like the shadow of death, as the Gospel says.

This light is love.  Love transforms the darkness and dispels fear.  Love encourages building bridges, seeking understanding, healing hurts, and reconciling old divisions.  It is not always easy to see the light, and look at each other through the lens of love, but when we do, we are able to forgive.  We let go of our fear, and we might even find joy in love--just as God has first loved us.

Thanks be to God!

Epiphany Sunday Watchword: Resilience

Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12
(look these up at biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org)

Each Epiphany Sunday, our congregation distributes paper cutouts of stars with a 'watchword' for the coming year.  These words are often a character trait or virtue to reflect on throughout the year.  A few speakers volunteer each year to give a brief reflection on what their star has meant to them during the previous year.  This year, the sharing was even more poignant, as we continue to worship off-site while our building is under reconstruction due to flood damage from a burst pipe.

Friends, I might not have volunteered to speak about my word this year, except that given the circumstances our congregation has faced in recent weeks, it seemed so especially appropriate:

Resilience.

Last year when I drew this star, I left it in the shelf of the pulpit, and I have seen it there each week as I've stood to lead worship and preach, with its little reminder throughout thick and thin.  It was there right up until the flood when we had to pack everything away for cleanup and reconstruction to begin.

But before I got up to speak today, I thought I'd better look up the proper definition, and it is:  "the ability to bounce back after adversity or tragedy."

For some people this seems to come naturally, but for most of us, this is learned...through adversity or tragedy.

I also found an article online, "10 Ways To Become More Resilient", which had some pretty good advice about how to do so, and it was also quite fitting for our situation.  In that light, let me share a summary:

1.  Believe in yourself, not out of denial of the problem, but with loving acceptance of everything you are.
2.  Have a sense of purpose.  Find some way to bring something meaningful and positive out of this struggle.
3.  Maintain a strong network of friends to help you keep going even when you get discouraged.
4.  Embrace change.  Those who can be flexible and adapt are more likely to thrive.  Branch out in new directions, even in directions you never thought of before.
5.  Maintain a hopeful outlook. Realize that setbacks are only temporary.
6.  Nurture yourself:  don't forget to eat, sleep, exercise, and nourish your spirit (I might add, pray!)
7.  Develop problem-solving skills.
8.  Establish goals.  It will give you something to help you look, and move, forward.
9.  Don't avoid your problems, but take steps to address them proactively.
10.  Keep building healthy coping skills--you may need them again in the future.

It occurred to me that the wise men must have been very resilient, given the adversity they overcame, traveling across the desert, guided only by a star, running into a political entanglement they hadn't expected, and returning home by another road.  In fact, I've crossed that same desert between Bethlehem and Persia in my former life as a human rights worker, and I know how very difficult the journey is.  However, we had nice new climate-controlled Suburbans, and they had...camels.  In the heat of day, the cold of night, and believe it or not, the rain.  But they made the journey nevertheless, and returned home again.

I thought about my own life, and where I have encountered adversity.  A few years ago in our previous church, we discovered that they hadn't been fully forthcoming with us about their financial situation, and could not afford to pay us.  In fact, in the same week we received the much-hoped-for news that we would be parents again, we also received the news that we were about to be jobless and maybe even homeless.

I won't lie to you.  It was an enormous strain on our family and marriage. And it took an incredible amount of work to ensure our family's survival.  But six months later, in record time for a pastoral call search, we arrived here, to this church, and have sojourned with you a little while, and Sam and Maya were both born healthy and safe.

Now, I have no crystal ball hidden away in my office and I do not know the future any more than anyone here, except that I know from here, we begin again.  The future of this congregation is not lost on the whim of the wind, but is placed in our ability to make decisions and work together, to come back stronger than ever before.  During this time, we must reach out and get help we need from our friends and neighbors around us, to become as vibrant a ministry in this community as ever.

And in all that we do, no matter what we face, God is with us.  The Holy Spirit will guide us.  Now, let's get to work, for we have much to do!  Amen.

Prayers This Week:

--for all who lack shelter from the severe winter weather, especially the cold
--for all who are traveling, that they may be safe
--for all who may lose unemployment benefits
--for all in need of healing, in body, mind, and soul
--for all young people graduating this season and beginning a new chapter in their lives
--for our congregation, as we continue to sojourn away from our church home.

The Gift of Christmas

Isaiah 9:2-7, Psalm 96, Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20

On the Occasion of Christmas Eve, which we celebrated at our friends and neighbors, Peoples' United Methodist Church, after evacuating our worship space due to heavy flood damage.

Friends, this is the Christmas in our church that even the youngest children of our congregation will probably talk about with their grandchildren, years from now.

I want to venture a story with you tonight, that let's say, Mary and Joseph were looking forward to celebrating the birth of their first child in their own home, in familiar surroundings.  Sure, the news of Jesus' coming had been unexpected, but let's say that like all good parents, they did their best to prepare for the new baby.  Joseph was a carpenter and they were a newlywed couple, so we could safely assume the house was probably newly built and filled with well-crafted furnishings, made just for them and their new family.  I would even guess that Jesus had a fine little wooden crib waiting for him, up in their home in the Galilee.  And Mary had probably spent the past several months preparing all sorts of baby clothes and blankets and diapers, and anything else you might need for a first-century nursery.

Dining at home with family and friends, typical first-century home.
Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PikiWiki_Israel_18496_Nazareth_Village.jpg

Photos of re-enacted first-century household life: dining and making textiles.
Source: http://www.100words.ca/?m=201211&paged=2

In such familiar surroundings, I imagine that these expectant parents also thought their folks would come over to bring them casseroles, keep the house tidy and help change diapers those first few days.  Maybe they thought the first people to welcome their new baby and hold him would be Grandma and Grandpa, or maybe Aunt Elizabeth and newborn cousin John.  

Now imagine all that, nursery prepared and all--that right as you were getting ready to celebrate the birth of this child--something BIG happens, that is unavoidable, and you have to leave your home behind.

Where would they go?  And how would they celebrate the birth of that child?

I am going to guess that Mary and Joseph never imagined they would share the birth of their son with sheep and goats, cattle and donkeys, or having a bunch of shepherds fresh out of the fields, or strange travelers from a foreign country showing up, not even with casseroles, but instead with gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  (That is, air freshener and embalming spices, but at least the cash might come in handy?)

And I imagine that even though they had to travel to Bethlehem for this census, that they thought they'd at least be going home relatively soon, say, maybe a few weeks.  At any rate, there's just not that much stuff you can pack up and put on the back of a donkey along with mother and child.  So the news that Herod was coming for them and they would have to flee Egypt for a couple of YEARS, must have really been...well, beyond words.  So much for celebrating a birth as planned!

Well, I'm also going to venture that for those of us who are gathered here tonight, we can kind of relate.

We can relate, right?  A beautiful new church, halls all decked, tree all trimmed, banners up, choir tuned and ready, to celebrate the birth of Jesus--and then something BIG happens.

And yet, most important of all, despite all the disrupted plans and scrambling to make do, then and now--the most important thing to remember in the midst of our human worries, is this:  the gift, the greatest gift, has still been given to us.  God gave us his Son, Jesus Christ, to teach us how to love one another.  It was Jesus that brought together such an unexpected collection of people together in an unexpected place.  And the unusual circumstances and the enormous obstacles they faced together, and the reason for which they did so--only add to the richness of the story of this first Christmas that we tell over and over again, to our children and our children's children.

We might feel we're having a manger experience of our own tonight, but really, we are in the finest room in the inn--anywhere in town!  Here we are surrounded by warmth and comfort, and banners, and advent wreaths, and inside decked halls and there's a place for us, and for the kids, and for the choir, and all of us can celebrate this birth of the Christ child together.  And together, we can say the words of Isaiah, that:

A child has been born for us, a son given to us...and he is named Wonderful Counselor...Prince of Peace.

We have been given so rich a gift this Christmas.  We are surrounded by family and friends and neighbors.  We have been given such extravagant hospitality from our dear friends here at Peoples' Church.  We've been given willing and dedicated volunteers to help make everything better, even in the face of many challenges.  Certainly these last few weeks we've walked in darkness, but we have also seen a great light.

Sure, this Christmas isn't like what we'd planned, but it is still beautiful, and meaningful, perhaps even more meaningful, than if everything had gone according to plan.  And we're not alone; we're with each other, and we're also here among our friends.  And above all, God is with us--Emmanuel; bringing hope, joy, love, and peace to us and to all the world.  May we, like Mary, in the midst of all this excitement and chaos, may we treasure these things in our hearts, on this Christmas night, and always.  Amen.

A World Turned Upside Down

Third Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 35:1-10, Luke 1:46b-55; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

[look these up on biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org]

On the occasion of pipes in the sprinkler system freezing, bursting, and flooding our building.

Sometimes things don’t always go according to plan.

For example, you build a beautiful new church and don’t include a basement, knowing  full well the village water table issues, and not relishing those memories of flood cleanups in the old building…only to have pipes burst and walls of water coming down through the kitchen ceiling.

Ah, cleanup.

There’s also the kinds of plans every church has at Christmas, plans for holiday gatherings and receptions and the meal we were going to host this afternoon; plans for the Cantata next week--I think we were planning on having a prettier sanctuary with a bit more drywall--or at least, just plain dry walls--plans to have the general public and more visitors here in the building and really enjoy our new church home.

Ah, more cleanup!

We scrambled to reschedule some things this weekend, and I really have no doubt that the show will go on next weekend, Cantata and Christmas services alike, even though we’ll be a bit battered and rough-looking.  We are having a sort-of manger-like Christmas here, amongst our piles of things drying out and rescued from the waters and props from Christmas pageants past sitting over here and there.  We’re grateful things weren’t any worse than they are, and grateful for insurance, and so forth, and in the midst of all this, has that old saying occurred to you that when people plan, God laughs?

When People Plan, God Probably Does Laugh...

Ah.  Things had a way of not going according to people’s plans in the Bible, either.

Case in point:  Mary.  She was a young woman engaged to Joseph, and what do you normally think about when you’re engaged and planning a wedding?  Probably the dress, hair, makeup, shoes, menu: chicken or fish? ...music for the reception, the gifts…but for Mary, an angel messenger interrupts those plans and tells her that something radically different  is in store--something that means there probably won’t be a dress, hair, makeup, shoes, reception, whatever hopes and dreams and plans she had for her wedding day.  Jesus’ arrival into this world would turn everything upside down.  [Incidentally, that’s why I love the John Bell hymn, No Wind At the Window,  which is the first time I’ve seen something to say, “sorry about that wedding you were planning, Mary.”]

In the face of such shocking news, Mary could have been humiliated by the scandal;  could have agreed to be put away quietly, to live in exile.  She could let this unexpected arrival really ruin her life.  After all, isn’t that the fear and the social script we still maintain for every unexpected pregnancy to an unwed young mother?  

However, Mary does something different.  She rises to the occasion, and her response is one that both praises God and claims a vision for the future where the whole world order is turned upside down:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, 47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

Remember that well, when we sing the hymn following the message, this idea that the world is about to turn. [Canticle of the Turning]

Not In Soft Robes

Something interesting happens between the story of Mary’s Magnificat and the Gospel text for today.  Look this up with me in your Bibles.  In Luke, the story says Mary went to visit her aunt Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist at the time, and the baby John leapt in recognition when Mary, pregnant with Jesus, came near.  Even in the womb, there was the recognition, and John announced, or heralded, the arrival of the messiah.  Fast-forward thirty-odd years, and John is at it again, out in the wilderness, gathering followers, heralding the arrival of the messiah, whom he may or may not have seen in awhile.  Perhaps they were distant cousins.  Anyway, John has landed himself in prison, which doesn’t sound like what he’d been hoping for, and when he hears of Jesus teaching and healing, he sends word to see if this is indeed the one they have hoped for.  

We talked a few weeks ago about how the Jewish people were hoping for a king or deliverer with sufficient military power to defeat their enemies; today we hear about how the very appearance of John or Jesus may defy all expectation.  After all, neither are dressed in soft robes and lying around in palaces. And yet, that’s not really the definition of a king, of the one who will deliver the people.  Rather, Jesus points to what really matters:

“the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them” (11:5).  

The world again is turned upside down.

Be Patient; Strengthen Your Hearts

Friends, I recognize that this is the last week in the world we want to hear this Isaiah passage about springs of living water bursting forth, making the deserts bloom, of deserts becoming pools and swamps, and so on.  Good for those deserts, maybe, but we’ve had enough, thanks.

But I want to lift up the next verse in the Isaiah passage that also gets repeated in the letter of James today, because I think it’s exactly what we need to hear this week: Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God.

And God is here.  God is here in the midst of this mess, and really, in the midst of every mess, every disaster, every “what do we do next?” kind of moment.

James says,  8You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. 9Beloved, do not grumble against one another, so that you may not be judged.

And figuring a way out of those moments usually takes time, and a great deal of patience.   (A dose of good humor never hurts in situations like these either.)

Even babies take nine months to be born; even prophets and messiahs take about thirty years before starting their world-changing ministry; to plant and to harvest as the scriptures note today also takes due time.

Flood cleanups happen relatively quickly by comparison.

I do believe that when people plan, God laughs, but I don’t think it’s too often a harsh, mocking, humiliating laughter.  I tend to think of it as more of a loving, good-natured chuckle.

Even at Christmas, things can get turned upside down.  Dinner gets burnt, holiday gatherings get snowed out, or flooded out, and all the like.  We can let it get the best of us, or we can rise to the occasion.  At Christmas, we can find our outlook transformed by hope, peace, love, and joy.  After all, this time of year we remember more than ever, that the blind may see, the deaf hear the lame walk and the dead rise again.  God’s grace is in the turning, a grace that sends us for a loop, and by which we might see everything in a new light.  Thanks be to God!

Prayers this week:

For those in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, under a foot of snow --beautiful but dangerously cold for those who have no heat; and the deep floodwaters in Gaza that cause harm to so many

For all who struggle in the cold and snow

For all who have empty hands and empty stomachs

For all who seek a welcoming home for the holidays

That We May Have Hope

Second Sunday in Advent

Isaiah 11:1-10, Psalm 72:1-7; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

(Look these up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

[These are some of my favorite Bible passages, especially the Isaiah, so I have a few other things in writing [in brackets] that time did not permit me to share on Sunday.  However, I share them here to peruse at your leisure].

Many of you know that on Tuesdays a bunch of us pastors get together to study the Scriptures for the week and get started thinking about the sermon.  And most weeks it’s helpful, but this week it somehow got dragged down into one of those discussions where you try to figure out how to fix the world--and an hour later you haven’t fixed anything and you’re just kind of tired, and maybe a tad cynical:  One says, raise the minimum wage, another says that’ll just make everything more expensive and folks’ll end up back in the same place. And on, and on.

I don’t want to sit there and dwell in cynicism too long, so let’s get some basic assumptions out of the way before we begin: We know there’s brokenness in the world, and we wish it were not so.  We wish there were some easy fix, but we also kind of know there’s not.  We know that whatever can change the world for the better, will take an enormous amount of energy and effort.  We know we can’t check out of the situation entirely either.  And we know we don’t want to think about all of that and just end up tired, we’d like to have something to hope for!

Isaiah 11:6 '...the calf and the lion...and a little child shall lead them.'
Found at doveandcross.org

Today in our Scriptures we’ve got some amazing and perhaps a bit confusing imagery of a hoped-for world: A world where nature is re-ordered such that predator animals and their prey can live together peaceably and no one fears harm; a world where a king does not just look out for his rich and powerful political allies, but creates justice for the poor, who can give him nothing in return; and how even from a seemingly-dead stump, new life can spring forth.  

Wouldn’t it be wonderful!  How can we get there?  How can we have such a world where these things that we deeply in our hearts hope for, could come true?

Ah, that’s what folks have wrestled with throughout all time!

So, now, enter this strange character, John the Baptist, kind of a wild and crazy-seeming guy, a prophet proclaiming the kingdom of heaven is near, and the people of Jerusalem and all Judea are going out to him to be baptized, and they’re confessing their sins.

And many Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious establishment leaders of the day, are coming out to join them.  And that’s where John gets angry.  Why is that?

It might be worth noting that this idea of using water for spiritual cleansing is nothing new even in John the baptists’ time.  Jewish people for centuries had been using mikvehs, sort of like a big baptistry or if you don’t know what that is, a jacuzzi, with stairs that you descend on one side until you’re pretty well submerged, then you come back up the other side, ritually clean.  You do this after doing anything makes you ritually 'unclean'--such as preparing a loved one’s body for burial, or after childbirth, or a list of other things that I’m going to send you to Wikipedia for, since the list is a little 'earthy:'  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikveh

And here's a link to images of both ancient and modern Mikvehs, via Google image search. (Note that a person may not be wearing clothes in a Mikveh, so view at your own discretion).

Going Through The Motions

That makes you ritually pure to enter the Temple, the house of God, and worship.  It’s a powerful symbolic ritual, designed to prepare people to increase their relationship with God by leaving behind distractions of daily life.  But the real importance is not really the physical ritual, it’s the internal preparing of your heart for worship and relationship with God.  In other words, it’s not magic.  Going through the motions might make you look acceptable to your peers, but it doesn’t really do much for you if your heart isn’t in it.

That said, why is John so angry at the Pharisees and Sadducees?  It’s because they’re going through the motions, and they’re also relying on the privilege of their bloodline for their security in this world.  Rather than being accountable for their own actions and how their own corruption is harming other, especially vulnerable people, they are seemingly smug, and they hold everyone else accountable to the motions, without consideration for their human struggles, whether physical or spiritual.

Don’t Be Too Quick To Judge

We shouldn’t be too quick to judge, though.  Sometimes I think, If the Sadducees and Pharisees are there trying to get baptized, then really, maybe they’re not feeling all that smug and secure. And let’s be honest: we, too, could become smug, to say that we’re Christians, that Jesus reconciled the world 2,000 years ago, and that’s that.  Well, yes, we believe that our eternal salvation is in the death and resurrection of Christ, but if we do not let that affect how we live out our daily lives in relationship to God and one another, we really lose out on so much in this life.

The Gift of Baptism

In our faith tradition, we baptize infants because we believe that God does the work of salvation, that we do not and cannot earn our salvation, any more than an infant could.  God has done that work for us, that is God’s gift to us.  That is our gift whether we keep it up on a shelf, or whether we take it out every day and use it.  The gift is still ours either way, but in our daily lives right now, we are made richer by using it.  

[This brings up a tricky situation that many families wrestle with:  when grandparents want a child baptized sort of ‘just in case,’ even if parents don’t want the child baptized or plan to teach them the faith.  If you are a grandparent worrying over grandkids that aren’t baptized or don’t get to church, don’t fight with the parents over it.  And of course, you would never threaten a fiery hell or whatever else folks sometimes threaten others with, because that doesn’t help anyone.  Instead, you teach them the love of God and inspire that relationship two ways:  you show them God’s love with your own compassionate and gentle presence, and you teach them what it means to love others.]

In a world where we are living out our Baptisms, we aren’t afraid to love our enemies, to show compassion, or to forgive those who have hurt us. We hold each other to a different kind of accountability, one that says, ‘we’re all in this together, we care about the same things, we want a more peaceful world for our children here on earth,’ not a legalistic or revenge-based accountability that is so common in our world, yet so ultimately empty and unfulfilling.  

[After all, how many times have we heard where a person said about a lawsuit, it wasn’t really about the money and it didn’t make them feel any better, they just really wanted more than anything to hear that the person who hurt them was sorry for doing so.?

Sometimes in life, we cut off or try to avoid people who have done us harm because we think it’ll hurt less.  Granted, sometimes in life-threatening situations, such as a history of abuse or domestic violence, we do have to do that.  But in the more routine difficulties of relationships, the distance doesn’t really heal.]

[I’ve told you before as a pastor I’m often surprised by how many people worry whether they are actually saved or if they are going to hell.  And yet I take those concerns seriously.  If we ourselves haven’t faced that kind of anxiety before, we can at least sympathize with the people in the Gospel story, who are going to John the Baptist to be baptized for the repentance of sins.  They want  to be washed clean of whatever’s been bothering them that they’re not proud of.  But again, it’s not a magic trick.  It’s not a thing to check off your list.

Ideally, we’re reminded of the bigger picture, that world and kingdom of God we are hoping for, when we gather to worship, and then we are sent forth to figure out how to live that kingdom hope and those kingdom values in our daily lives--in how we treat our coworkers or fellow drivers or the store clerk or waitress or the person on the street asking for change.]

A Transformation Of Hearts

The Gospel for today happened to be the text for Friday’s Bible Study group, and one question came up, how do you really know that you have repented and are forgiven?  And I would answer, you know in your heart.  If that’s confusing, because I think that can be, even for me sometimes, then ask yourself--about a situation where you’re upset with someone, for example.  If you have something that you are sorry for, some harsh words, well, are you really sorry?  You know when you’re holding back in your heart.  When there’s someone out there that drives you nuts that you see everyday, (maybe even at church!), have you learned to feel compassion for them and whatever they may be going through?  

Are you just being nice to someone’s face, or do you truly deeply care about them?

There’s a quote in the book, Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card, which really stuck with me this week: “I find that by the time I truly understand my enemy... then I also love them…”  Those of you who know the book know that the quote ends with gaining advantage over and destroying the enemy, which isn’t all that loving.  But for our purposes today, let’s just take that first part:  

Can you go up to a person who drives you nuts and say directly to them, “hey, I know we’ve had our differences and probably still will, but I just want to let you know I care about you and I want to keep trying to work things out?”  When we are living out our Baptism, we don’t have to destroy our enemies.  It is enough just to love them.

(You can read the full quote here via Goodreads.com).

Anxiety and Hope in an Uncertain Future

While we’re talking about total transformations of the heart, let’s be real.  I’m a pastor, and I can be totally loving and forgiving and compassionate and understanding of each and every human being I meet for oh, at max, about six or seven days in a row. (And sometimes, if we’re really going to be honest, maybe some days, only a few hours, or a few minutes.  Some Sundays, I’m not even home from church before I’ve grumbled about three other drivers along the way). But, six or seven days, let’s say, and then I need to be reminded that the Kingdom of God is built not by resting on our laurels or by going through the motions, but by the active, daily practice of love.  Love in forgiveness, love in compassion.  We will all need to keep working at this, every day, for the rest of our lives.  Our eternal salvation does not depend on this, because that work has already been done.  But our world today, very much needs these daily doses of love.  By love, true community is built.  By love, all obstacles and challenges can be faced together.  By love, our world is transformed.

While I’m not likely to take the Isaiah passage literally and allow my young children to go play with nests full of snakes anytime soon, I do still fervently hope for a day when no one will hurt or destroy within the realm of God.

In an uncertain future, we can take hope.  And really, no matter how good or bad the present times are, the future is always uncertain.  We can allow that to paralyze us with fear, or we can allow that to turn us into cynics, or we can live into hope.  As Paul has written: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prayers this Week:

For all who struggle in body, mind, or spirit, with the winter weather

For all who are hungry or homeless at Christmas, and at any time of year

For all who are grieving or hurting at this time of year

For all who are unable to gather with family and friends for the holidays

For the hope and justice and inspiration brought to all people by the life and leadership of Nelson Mandela