Choosing God

Sermon-1st Sunday in Lent February 21, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
As you know, we have been involved with Adopt-a-Child-Size program for 20 years. Our best guess is that we have provided complete winter outfits for anywhere from 1300-1500 children in that time. Every year Teresa Moore has had to worry and work about whether we will have enough money and resources to clothe the 600+ kids that she is given each year. A few years ago a large corporation came to Teresa and told her that they were willing to take this program on-give complete funding, pay for everything-at that time about $90,000 a year. It was an incredibly generous and wonderful offer. It took her breath away. There were just a few catches. All the religious language and touches had to be eliminated from the program. That was reasonable. This was a large multinational business and they couldn’t be seen as promoting a faith based group. It was a terrible decision for Teresa to make. $90,000 is a lot of money. Not having to struggle and beg every year to get people to turn in their money, not having to worry and lose sleep over enough clothes. It was an incredible offer, and I have nothing but good things to say about this company. But Teresa was concerned that taking Christ out of this program, might take away the power of the program. She was afraid that the project would lose it’s soul. This was an agonizing decision. This company wanted to do two minor things, little things, that would only change the program in 2 small ways: there could be no blessing of the clothes, and the company wanted to get pictures of the kids receiving the clothes. Two small things. These were so reasonable, so understandable-the company wanted the pr, Teresa and the kids needed the clothes.
Every year, on the first Sunday in Lent, we hear the story of Jesus going out into the wilderness after his baptism, to be confronted by demons. It is a powerful story. Jesus is in the wilderness 40 days, fasting, praying, being tested. Next year we’ll hear the story from Matthew, the year after that a very short version from Mark. The story in Luke and Matthew has the adversary, Satan, challenging Jesus, testing him-asking Jesus to show his power. But just for once, take Satan out of the story. For once, have Jesus debating not with an evil force-but with himself. Just this one time, think about the story as if Jesus is having an internal dialogue, a debate with himself-instead of Satan. It feels much more real, much more like us, that way.
Jesus has come up out of the waters of baptism and God said, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." Jesus had to be feeling powerful, and he goes out into the desert to understand what all this means. His first challenge, his first debate is this-what if I could feed everyone in the world? What if I could take stones and turn them into bread. What if no one would ever have to be hungry, ever again. Most of us have never been truly hungry, but this is relatively new in the history of the world. What if Jesus looked down at his hands and thought, “with God’s power, I could take away the worst pain human beings have ever faced-no more hunger, no more starvation.” What would you do? Jesus realized that with this power he could do it. And Jesus would prove to the world, that he is God’s son by this one great miracle. What an opportunity, what a prospect!
And as he sat there, thinking about the both power that he had and the chance to witness to himself-a second thing came to mind: why stop with hunger? Why not become king and ruler of every nation, every country, every tribe and peoples on earth? Why not be in charge of everyone? That would be better than bread, better than ending hunger-he could be in control of the whole world! . Do you think you could do a better job at running the world than most of the people who have the job? Of course we do. And here is Jesus, realizing that with his power, he could rule the world. What an opportunity, what a prospect.
And as he sat there thinking of this, perhaps the thought would come into Jesus’ mind, that he could do even more than that, he could do the unthinkable-he could end death. You’ve suffered pain and loss in your lives, you’ve grieved-maybe you’re in mourning even now. What if you could stop death forever-would you do it? The ultimate power, the final control. No more death, no more grief, no more loss. What is the question that we struggle with all of our lives, “why do people, especially people we love, die?” And here is Jesus, thinking to himself-I can do this. God will give me the power to end hunger, rule the nations, stop death. If you were offered this, would you do it? If you had the power, the authority, would you?
Of course we would. We hate suffering, we hate pain and hunger and injustice. We hate loss and sorrow and death. We hate them so much that if we were given the opportunity to do away with them, no matter what the cost-we would jump at the chance and never look back. Wouldn’t we? I would. It would be too tempting, too attractive, too appealing, not to.
So why didn’t Jesus do it? He has all this power, all this authority, all this ability-he is given the opening to do what we all would want. Why doesn’t he take it? God is giving him the power to do all this good-we would take it-why doesn’t he? How does he sit out there in the wilderness and say no?
Lent begins with Jesus facing these 3 great challenges-to use power for good-to save others. You know how Lent ends? Look at the last verse in today’s gospel: “When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.” Lent ends with Jesus facing an even greater challenge than these three-the chance, the power, the authority, to save himself.
Jesus says,” no, I will not do this”. I will not choose power, even to do what is right, for the wrong reasons. He had to make the same choice that Teresa Moore made a dozen years ago. It’s easy to say that it’s from the devil and therefore it’s bad. The hard choices are when they come from inside of us-when everything inside of us is screaming, “DO THIS! IT’S FOR THE BEST! IT”S THE RIGHT THING!” That’s where the rubber meets the road-not when we can see the pitchfork and pointed tail and can say, “well, that’s evil.” It’s when we can do the right thing for “sort of” wrong reasons. Jesus was tired, he was hungry, he was weak, and fragile and vulnerable. But he knew that power-even to do good, is a great temptation. Sometimes, he realized, when we are weakest and most fragile, and most vulnerable, we are most likely to give in to that voice that keeps saying, “but it is for the best”, even when we know in our heart that it isn’t.
Jesus chose God, even though it meant that he would not feed the world’s hunger for bread. Jesus chose God, even when he knew that nations would do terrible despicable awful things. Jesus chose God even knowing that that meant he was allowing suffering and pain and death. Teresa chose God, even though she knew that the project would take more blood sweat and tears.
Sometimes we just have to face the demons inside of us telling us to grab the power, advising us to take the shortcut, directing us to do what’s best for the most-even when we sacrifice our faith. We have to face these demons, especially when we are most fragile, most frail, and choose God. Jesus was in the wilderness. Much of the time, so are we. Henry David Thoreau, once wrote, “Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling.”And the great 20th century poet T. S. Eliot, said this, The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.The greatest demons aren’t outside of us-but within, always coaxing, always seducing-to choose what we want, instead of God. Today we hear the story of how much it costs to choose God. Amen.

But, we are more than dust…

Sermon-Ash Wednesday February 17, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
“Remember that you are dust”. In a few minutes I will bid you to come forward and to receive ashes on your forehead as a physical reminder that you are mortal. “And to dust you shall return.” It’s the church’s way of saying that we began as a piece of earth, and someday our bodies will return to earth. The word human comes from the same word humus-a word for dark brown rich soil. “Remember that you are dust” I will say-don’t forget where you came from-don’t forget where you are going.
Last week Deb and I went to see the movie Avatar. It was a wonderful movie-overpowering. It showed human beings going to another planet. A friend of mind said that the distant planet had to be what Eden was like-lush and rich, fertile alive, and sprit filled. Only the humans in the movie, for the most part, were greedy, angry, and violent (the aliens were the real heroes). It was easy to remember that we are only dust after seeing that movie.
But later that night after we came home, we turned on the Olympics-the opening ceremony. It was wonderful. Back in 1980 I was way too cool for the Olympics. But I was serving at a church with Ruthie Blair. Ruthie was the sexton (janitor) at the church-and she was ALSO head of Christian education. She mopped floors and emptied trash, and she also, nurtured generations of children and taught them how precious they were in God’s sight. She was in her 50s, but she had the heart of a child. One day she organized a parish outing to Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus. She managed to get everyone on the trip excited about the guy who would be shot out of the cannon. I am not making this up. We got geeked about the cannon guy! And then she got us excited about the acrobats and the high wire performers, the trapeze artists, the clowns-all the people in the circus. She got us evaluating which performers really inspired us-which ones were ho hum-and which ones made us gasp. She was able to do that!
And later that year she got everyone in the parish excited about watching the Olympics. And I thought, Ruthie Blair cleans floors and designs curriculums. And she can get people electrified about athletes and stories of performers-just by her own pure enthusiasm and enjoyment. Ever since then, I have been excited about the Olympics.
So when we watched Friday night and it was all so wonderful and alive and exciting, I thought, Remember I am but dust-but I am not ONLY dust. I am also joy. And the more I watched the opening ceremony I thought about Ruthie Blair (who I hadn’t thought about in YEARS), and I sent a prayer up to God thanking Him for her. And I thought, “I am ALSO memory.” And thinking about Ruthie made me think of other folks who taught me to appreciate and savor these small extraordinary moments that change me and sometimes convict me and lift me and feed me. So I took just a brief moment (while I was watching tv) and told God how precious these people were to me-what they had done, how they inspired me. And I thought to myself, I’m just dust-but I am also thanksgiving.
And the Opening ceremony kept going on and on. They showed the torch being carried all over Canada-28,000 miles. And I thought, “I am but dust” but I am also on a journey-just like that torch.
They showed each country walking in carrying their national flag. And for each person representing each country they gave the briefest bio of the flagcarrier-we heard very very briefly who that person was, why they had the honor of carrying their national symbol. And for many of the countries they only had that one participant-and they would say that that person had no chance to win a medal-but still they came. And I thought, “I am but dust, but I can also be noble.”
Today remember that you are but dust, a fleeting breath, that once was earth-and will some day be earth again. And remember that you are also joy-pure, unable to stop smiling, you-just-had-a-baby joy.
Remember that you are but dust-but we are also memory, with a rich past of people and events that have shaped us and molded us and made us who we are.
Remember that you are dust-but remember that you are also thanksgiving-with this ability to wonder at the great and even the painful people and things that have happened to you in your life.
Remember that you are dust-but remember that we are also passion and fire and that we are all on a journey that carrying a torch, some days slogging through the tundra, some days surrounded by cheering crowds .
Remember that you are dust-but remember that you are also noble, and decent and full of God’s grace-not all the time, maybe not even most of the time, but every once in a while we get to carry the flag and we are chosen to be gallant.
Remember that you are dust. And you are more than dust. God has given us this moment, this opportunity, to know who we are. So write down on your 3X5 card one prayer that you can pray throughout Lent. Maybe for yourself, maybe for another. Maybe for the world. Write down JUST ONE PRAYER, only one, that you can pray for 40 days.
Because, besides everything else, Remember that you are a child of God. Take this brief moment and remember who you are, what God made you, and what you need to pray this Lent. Remember that you are dust-but remember that you are more than dust-remember this lent, this Ash Wednesday, this morning’s/evening’s service that you are God’s prayer.

Grace Is Everywhere

Sermon-Year C-5 Epiphany February 7, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Ok, you’ve heard this story so often you missed the weird parts. THE FISHERMEN WERE WASHING THEIR NETS. Odd? Ok, how about this, THEY FISHED ALL NIGHT. Weird?
Any fisherpeople here? Ever fished with a net? Simon and his friends were fishing with trammel nets. We know this because they were washing them AFTER they were used. Trammel nets were made of linen and had to be washed and mended every time they were used. Another thing about trammel nets is that they are set in three layers-and are easily seen by the fish-IN DAYLIGHT. This is why they fish at night. So Jesus, telling them to put the boats back out-IN DAYLIGHT-WAS CRAZY.
The fishermen humored him. But they thought, THE RABBI IS CRAZY. And so Simon says, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” You get it that Simon’s rolling his eyes when he says this, right?
And Jesus tells him to put down their nets in deep water. Listen, if Luke the gospel writer includes a detail in a story, it’s ALWAYS important. Jesus wants Simon to go deep, deeper than usual. He wants Simon to take a risk, to step out in faith. They catch so much fish-when they shouldn’t; where they shouldn’t- that Simon realizes that he’s in the presence of the divine. The gospel says, “he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’” In the contemporary Bible, The Message by Eugene Peterson ,the translation is a lot better "I'm a sinner and can't handle this holiness. Leave me to myself,".
Simon is not just a surprized, excited fisherman who has an great fish story to tell-he is now called, Simon Peter, a person who is called, a witness to power and holiness, a simple man who is overwhelmed by what he has seen-and terrified of what it all means. In other words, Simon Peter is supposed to represent, us.
Every week I talk to a lot of people, and frequently I am talking to people about jobs-what they’re doing now-what they hope to do in the future. I am amazed at how many people , in their 30s and 40s are all saying the same thing-“I want a job that matters, I want a job that makes life better for people, I want to do a job that I love-not a job, just for money.
I know I also throw in a lot of Mother Teresa stories, but this one was to good not to tell-it comes from Kate Huey a UCC pastor:
Once, years ago, I had the opportunity to hear Mother Teresa speak. Now there was a person who walked away from everything and spent her life serving the poor. It sounds downright romantic, in a way, and many of us have dreamed of leaving it all behind so we can go off to a foreign land and spend our lives doing good. But I'll never forget Mother Teresa's words that evening. She said that Americans are always saying they want to leave their lives here and go to India to work with her. And she says, "Stay here, right where you are, and love the people God has given you to love. Care for people right where you are."
When we hear the story of Simon Peter and James and John walking away from their boatload of fish-we are grabbed by their sacrifice-and we should be. Luke includes this story here to show us what radical obedience looks like. But it is too tempting to think that giving up everything and going to a far away place is what we are called to do. Some are, but most of us are called to follow-here.
This is a rather long story, but worth hearing. In fact, it’s so good I sent it out to all the downriver clergy this week-it’s from The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself
Reflections By Dan Clendenin
“Next year will mark the seventy-fifth anniversary of Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest (1936). If you've ever struggled with the call of God to follow Jesus the Lord, I highly recommend this little book. Bernanos tells the story of a young and earnest parish priest in rural France who feels like a total failure. From a human perspective, he's not mistaken.
The entire novel is a diary in which the priest records "the simple trivial secrets of a very ordinary kind of life." He describes with brutal honesty his doubts, loneliness, social isolation, and sense of futility. He clashes with clergy colleagues. He broods over the history of his own family dysfunction. He knows that he's physically clumsy and socially awkward. He's even repulsed by his own body due to chronic stomach pains caused by an impoverished diet that's aggravated by an inadequate salary.
Nor does the priest enjoy much satisfaction in his ministry. When he shares the gospel he sometimes feels like he's merely play-acting and parroting clichés. He feels powerless in the face of suffering and ponders the absurdity of prayer. He describes his parishioners as bored, boring, and petty. They gossip about him as a "secret drinker" and a womanizer, both of which accusations are ludicrous. Still, the priest loves his flock; he visits every home every year, and he prays for them.
The cumulative effect of this candor and introspection is a sense of disillusionment. The priest is an astute observer of the weakness, frailty and fallenness of human nature, especially his own, and as a consequence he wrestles with his sense of vocation and call. He compares his restlessness to "a hornet in a bottle." Reflecting upon his "wretched weakness," he struggles with an ominous sense of total failure, that "my best is nothing." And so he questions his call: "Am I where our Lord would have me? Twenty times a day I ask this question."
By the end of Bernanos's novel, the priest has a keen sense of history and of his own obscure role to play. His elders advise him to persevere amidst his questions: "Keep saying your lessons. Go on with your work. Keep at the little daily things that need doing, til the rest comes. Concentrate. Think of a lad at his homework, trying so hard and his tongue sticking out. That's how our Lord would have us be when he gives us up to our own strength. Little things—they don't look like much, yet they bring peace. Like wild flowers which seem to have no scent, till you get a field full of 'em."
"Keep marching to the end," they encourage him, "and try to end up quietly at the roadside without shedding your equipment." When the priest dies of stomach cancer at a young age, we realize that Bernanos has painted a portrait of a genuine saint. On his deathbed at the end of the book the priest confesses, "Does it matter? Grace is everywhere."What a wonderful book.
We hear three call stories today-Isaiah who says “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips,
Paul who writes 8Last of all, as to one untimely born, (Jesus) he appeared also to me. 9For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle,
And Peter, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”
Each is unworthy, every one unprepared, all too average for the calling they receive. Like us. And yet, God speaks to each of us, asking us, inviting us to face our selves and follow.
Dr. Robert Linthicum, who I seem to quote every week writes: Partners in Urban Transformation, 2010
[Jesus told him], “Do not be afraid”. For, Simon, you are not in this alone. Jesus is at work in this situation. And Jesus will bring to pass through you what he has already designed your work to be. You must just do it – and the miracle will occur. So “do not be afraid”. Begin doing, and keep on doing what you have been called by Jesus to do – catching people for the kingdom. Live fully into this new call to you – live without timidity and fear. God will accomplish what God wants to do through you and this new ministry. And in that doing, you will find true fulfillment!
And Peter and James and John and Paul and Isaiah and Teresa and a simple country priest all leave the life that looks normal, their “catch” for a new life. Grace is everywhere. We hear these stories not because they are about great people who are called to extraordinary things. They are ordinary people who feel ordinary-and are called to extraordinary things. We are told these stories because they are invitations for us to become fishers of others. Amen.

Life Is Serious

Sermon-Year C-2 Epiphany January 17, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I was meeting with a bunch of clergy earlier this week, talking about today’s gospel reading. We were talking about Mary as a Jewish mother. One of the priests said that a woman in his congregation used this story to explain why she prayed to Mary instead of Jesus. “You see,” she told my friend, “Jesus did whatever Mary told him-even when he didn’t want to-which means if you get Mary on your side, you’re home.”
HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT JESUS WAS JEWISH? He went into his father's business. He lived at home until he was 30, his Mother thought he was God.

A long time ago someone came into my office, upset with my preaching. He said, “you make too many jokes in your sermons, life is serious.”
I agree, life is serious. The problem is that my jokes aren’t funny enough. Life is serious, and it’s important that we need to fill it as full as we can with whatever time we have.
Listen, I need to explain the key that unlocks this gospel. It’s not about a miracle of changing water into wine. As wonderful as that is, that doesn’t change my life. This story is a sign. It points beyond itself. It’s trying to tell us something about OUR relationship with Jesus. And how he fills us.
Remember, John doesn’t describe this as a miracle-he calls it “a sign”. That means it’s supposed to point beyond what happens to what it means. In this case, the first sign is a way of convincing his disciples that there is new life in Jesus. Dr. Robert Linthicum, in Partners in Urban Transformation writes:
There are three rather remarkable statements in this sentence that would mean little to a reader of today, but would immediately capture the attention of any Jew reading this manuscript two thousand years ago, immediately alerting them that there is far more to this story than an account about Jesus’ first miracle. First, it tells us there were “six stone water jars”. Second, it tells us that the purpose for these jars was to be used for the “Judeans rites of purification”. And third, it tells us that the jars were immense, “each holding twenty to thirty gallons”. Given the limited quantity of water needed to perform the “Judeans’ rites of purification” (that is, washing the feet and hands of those coming to the wedding feast), the number of jars and the quantity of water they held was all out of proportion to what would be needed even for a wedding feast with hundreds of guests. The author obviously means for the reader to note the absurd abnormality of this sentence. Why would John [the gospel writer] do this?
The water jars are meant to be something far greater in this story than being containers of water. What this sentence is meant to do is to prepare the reader for Jesus’ first confrontation with the Law as practiced under the rule of the high priests and Pharisees – …. John had made clear in this sentence that the jars were not there at the wedding to provide either water for drinking or for bathing. They were there “for the Jewish rites of purification” – for the keeping of the stipulations of the Law that the Pharisees and priests used to control the actions of the people and to dominate society. The wedding wine had now run out. The Law, as used by the priests and Pharisees to dominate and control the people, was also “running out”. So it was that Jesus would now take the very structures of the Law (the six stone jars) and fill them, not with the water of the Law but with God’s new wine by which Jesus would transform this wedding banquet and make it a success!
Jesus simply tells the servants to bear the water-filled jars to the steward of the wedding feast. Acting obediently to Jesus’ command (and likely thinking that he was a complete fool), they poured a goblet of this water for the steward to taste. And behold, “the water had become wine” (vs. 9). And not any old wine, at that! The steward declares that this is the most excellent wine of the entire banquet, and commands that it be distributed to the wedding guests.
Now keep in mind that the wedding banquet is used in the Old Testament as a symbol of God’s transforming, [saving] work among God’s people, the wedding itself symbolizing God’s union with the people. The Law, as symbolized by stone jars filled only with water, had lost their capacity to bring joy and transformation to Israel. But now, in the hands of Jesus, the Law-laden jars are transformed into vessels of “grace and truth”, dispensing a gospel far superior to the Law used by the Judeans to dominate the people.
This story then ends with the words, “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him” (2:11). John makes it quite clear that this event at the wedding in Cana was not a miracle; it was a “sign”. It was an act that had deep meaning beyond the act itself, an act that was designed to make one think, discuss, and make a decision to follow the Jesus way of “grace and truth” rather than the Judeans’ way of an empty [jars of] Law. It was a “sign” of what God was about to do through Jesus, as presented in the remainder of the Gospel of John. And the author tells us, “And the disciples believed in him!” They saw beyond the act to the sign and, as best they knew how, they embraced that sign and the grace and truth that Jesus was now offering to them.
I thought this was wonderful. The key to this gospel is the empty purification jars, the old life and then Jesus filling them with wine. The jars at one level are supposed to be us-empty, waiting. And Jesus comes to the celebration and fills us up.
Many years ago there was a wonderful movie called, “Babette’s Feast”. Anyone remember it? “It is an intriguing story placed in a desolate and tiny village on the Jutland Peninsula in Denmark. The drama revolves around two ageing sisters, the daughters of the local Lutheran pastor, who carry on after his death the pastoral care of the elderly and weekly prayer and Bible study. It is a sad, lifeless life. They both let slip through their fingers opportunities for new life because they were trying to please their father.
Into their lives comes Babette, who had to leave her home in Paris for political reasons. She comes to live with them as their cook. Now being such did not demand much, since they ate the same meal every day-boiled dried fish and stale bread. For a Parisian woman, this was not haute cuisine. So Babette would spice up their drab meals in small ways and seek to make the food more palatable.
There are more stories in the movie. Two old friends tell each other what they really think about one another. A husband and wife become engaged in angry conversation. This all happens at the weekly table gatherings for prayer and Bible study. Babette from the kitchen hears this.
One day Babette becomes the winner of the lottery in France and receives 10,000 francs. The sisters feel sure she will now be leaving them. Her response is quite different. She tells them she will be offering a banquet-a feast in thanksgiving for her good fortune. The food comes from abroad. The table is laid with linen, china, crystal, and silver. It is a veritable and incredible meal, the likes of which most of the diners have never had before. The wines, the soup, the quail, the roasted suckling pig, the cheeses and fruits, the dessert gave to each person a new lease on life. The argument between the two old friends is resolved. The married couple is reunited in their love for one another. Babette's feast offers them something they have never had before. Everyone at the banquet discovers that life is more than their weekly routines, and small rites of purification. Life is meant to be a banquet. And each of those present finds new hope, new joy.
One meal seldom has the power to change our lives forever. But it can point beyond itself to what life is meant to be. Jesus uses empty jars at the wedding feast. Babette took the lifeless routine of everyday life and made it a feast. Life is very serious. Jesus’ first sign is that he wants to fill up our lives as full as he possibly can.
Amen.

Another Way Home

Sermon-Year C-2 Christmas January 3, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
If it had been three wise women instead of three wise men?
They would have asked for directions.* Arrived on Time* Helped Deliver the Baby* Cleaned the Stable* Brought Practical Gifts* And made a CasseroleAnd as they were leaving they would have said:
“Did you see the sandals Mary was wearing with that dress?" "That baby doesn't look anything like Joseph!" "That donkey has seen better days” "I heard that Joseph isn't even working right now!" "Want to bet on how long it will take until you get your casserole dish back?"
We’re celebrating Epiphany 3 days early. The official day of Epiphany is January 6th Christmas season is how long? 12 days, ending January 5th. And that means that January 6th is the first day of Epiphany. In the Eastern church Epiphany was much more important than Christmas, and they didn’t focus on the visit of the magi. For Eastern Orthodox Christians most of their attention was on the Baptism of Jesus. We will celebrate that next week. But in the early days, this season, Epiphany, in the Eastern church was the important celebration-not Christmas.
Even today, Pastor Katerina K Whitley writes: “In this season of Epiphany we enter the realm of light. In fact the Greek church, in the language of the people, has called this season, Ta Phota: “the lights.” In the Eastern church, this season of light is celebrated as fully as the season of Christmas. ….The presence of water in Epiphany is as meaningful as that of light, perhaps reminding us that this was the preferred time for baptism in the early church. On Epiphany Day in every port city in Greece, the Orthodox bishop throws a cross into the waters of the sea and brave young men jump into the cold January Aegean to retrieve it.
We are in the darkest time of the year and yet in the eastern church they call it, “the lights”, Ta Phota. Epiphany season continues this year for 6 weeks.
T.S. Eliot, wrote a poem called, The Journey of the Magi. It is short and written from the perspective of one of wise men.
I have put a copy of this wonderful poem in each of the Chalking the door bags.
This is a short story, the story of the wise ones traveling from the east to find a newborn baby who would be king. 12 verses. But it is packed with a lot of drama. Foreigners on a long journey, an evil kill who is plotting to kill a baby, pilgrims following a star, arriving with expensive gifts, and then the same travelers leaving without telling the king-keeping the holy secret. A great story told in a few short verses. But here is the part that always grabs me, the last phrase, “they went home by another way.” I love that phrase “they went home by another way.” After all those miles, after all those days of travel, after meeting with the evil King Herod, after all that fear, and all those sacrifices-they finally arrive. When these travelers finally arrive at their goal-there’s no celebration, no fireworks. Suddenly their whole journey is changed, and they start new lives. Does it not seem odd? You would think after all this there would be a wonderful scene, great drama. These were men who listened to dreams and followed stars. These were men who met with kings and traveled long miles because they had heard prophecies. Any of you do this? Of course not. They weren’t like us! But we were similar in one way, after they found Jesus, they went home by a different way. The old road home no longer worked for them. They were changed people, different. They couldn’t walk the same path or be the same people. They had to go home a different way. This season of Epiphany begins every year with this same story-the wise men following a star. And it ends every year with the same story-Jesus on the mountaintop with his 3 closest friends-the Transfiguration. The people who set up the lectionary want us to be grabbed by this. The story of Epiphany begins with a star and ends with a dazzling light on a mountaintop-and each time the focus is on those who are witnesses-what happens to them. What happens to us. After the epiphany. The 3 disciples come down from the mountaintop and are told to keep what they’ve seen to themselves. The magi, quietly, secretly, go home by a different way. Why?
Anne Lamont tells in Traveling Mercies about her moment of Epiphany following a health scare. She writes, “The afternoon the doctor called to tell me that my mole was benign, [my son] asked me if I had been brave during the stitching. I said I was very brave. We were sitting outside looking at things. And it was as if the lighting director had turned the lights up full force, because all these small things were showing up more brightly—a yellow house finch, the tiny pink buds of the scraggly wild rose, a patch of ivy on our dirty-blonde hill” (pp. 182–183).
After you’ve had your epiphany, the colors look different, the world is different. After we’ve seen the light, we are different. After an epiphany, a manifestation, a revelation, the road home is always different, we are changed.
The magi were never the same after meeting the Christ child. They couldn’t travel the same roads, they could go home, but now it would be by a different way. And that is true for us, also. Once we meet Christ, once we have our epiphany, we are on a different path. Have you seen your life change as you live your faith? Do you take a different road because of your beliefs? Have you had your revelation? One dictionary defined an epiphany as “a sudden intuitive leap of understanding, especially through an ordinary but striking occurrence.” It’s the day you graduate and suddenly realize that you a no longer a student. It’s the day your child is born and someone calls you mom or dad.
In 2008 we walked the Camino in Spain, an old pilgrimage road for 200 miles, 14 days. The whole way we, and everyone else, carried a simple seashell on our backpacks. It meant that we were pilgrims on the way. Whenever you saw someone else with a seashell, you knew right away that they, too, were a pilgrim. They, too, were on the way. And every walker greeted every other pilgrim with the same words, “Buen Camino” Good way, good walk, God be with you. On the day that we finally reached Santiago do Compostela the end of the road, we took off our packs, and our shells and left them in our hotel rooms. And no one said to us “Buen Camino” any more. We were no longer pilgrims. We had arrived. And at that moment I thought, “we’re walking a different road now. We’ve finished this journey.”
Today we celebrate Epiphany, the feast of the first strangers finding the Christ child. Foreigners who walked a long way to simply see a newborn babe. And after they saw him, they were never the same. I bet it felt weird for them on the way home. It felt weird for us in Spain. When you’ve been on a long journey and suddenly you arrive, you wonder what life will be like now. What we believe, what we teach, is that we go home by a different way. We are always different after we’ve seen our light. We are altered after our epiphany. Even if we take the same way, we are changed. That is not just the story of these wise men. This is the story of the first people who saw Jesus-and were different. They didn’t just follow a star, they no longer carried their shells, no one said “buen camino” to them any more. They were changed now after their sudden intuitive leap of understanding. They had to take a different road home after meeting Jesus. And so do we.

What Counts In Your Life

Sermon-Year C-Advent 3 December 13, 2009
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I was in Meijer’s this week. Actually I wind up in Meijer’s just about every day for something or other, and I like to go to those self-scanners. So I go through and the machine keeps asking me if I am using my own bag. Then it says that I will need assistance. So the lady comes over and says that this is really a special case and she will need to call someone with a special key. I had four items. So she called. And we waited. The special person never came. I finally asked if I could just use a different machine. On and on. Nothing was allowed, I couldn’t move-the special person wouldn’t come. Finally, I said, “well, forget it, I don’t have time to…” And then I heard my own words from the last two weeks, and I said, “that’s ok, I’ll stay here-I’m working on my waiting skills.” And the special guy with the special code eventually came, very harried and rushed, and I told him that it was ok, there was no hurry.
I was one place, and realized that I could be someplace else. It’s called Advent. It’s the season when we realize that we can be someone different, we can prepare, we can grow, we can change, we can make room in our hearts for someone new. It’s not easy-but for me, it starts with waking up-hearing the words.
Two weeks ago I asked you to spend some time this season waiting, watching, being quiet, slowing down. Last week I asked you to look for surprises. Did you see any surprises this week? Did anything happen that shocked you? astonished you? Woke you up? Once I started waiting for surprises, I was taken aback how often it happened.
Advent is about waiting. Advent is about preparing to be surprised. And Advent is about the journey. The journey from who we are-to who we will be. Meister Eckhart, the great medieval theologian, once wrote: “He who would be who he ought to be must stop being what he is.”
Several years ago, it dawned on me that Jesus was always on the move. He never seemed to be in one place very long. He didn’t travel to exotic places, but he always seemed to be going to new towns, seeing new people. The more I thought about it, the more I saw the gospels as a journey. It starts with Mary and Joseph traveling by donkey even before the birth, and the gospels end with Jesus again riding on a donkey-this time into Jerusalem. In between he’s always on the move. And then, after pondering this for a while, the next realization for me was that Jesus’ moving was more than just physical. He was also on a spiritual journey. And when that finally sank in, I started thinking about myself. Am I moving, too? Am I going from who I am, to who I am called or meant to be? This may seem simple and obvious to you, but it was a real revelation to me.
Three times in this morning’s gospel people plead with John, “what should we do?” The crowd, the tax collectors, the soldiers. “What should we do?” They want to be different, they want to be better. But they are unsure, unclear about which direction to go. They need the wake up call.
There is a special new version of the Bible called, The Message, a paraphrased version by Eugene Peterson. This is how he translates verses 8 and 9 from this morning’s gospel "It's your life that must change, not your skin….What counts is your life.' What counts is your life.
What should we do? I think I have to care enough about my life to go on a journey. I think I have to care enough about who I am to wake up and be surprised. I think I have to want my life to count. There is a great AA saying, "Fake it 'till you make it." It means, act like the person you want to become, until you become that person.
So if the first week of Advent was about preparing, and the second week was about being open, then this week is about caring enough about our lives to want them to matter. What counts is your life.
“What should we do?” the people keep asking John. Act like your life matters, he tells them. Act like your faith matters. I was one place, and realized that I could be someplace else. It’s called Advent. It is a journey. I can wait and watch and be still. I can be open to surprises, and see things anew. I can become a different person. I have to wake up and want my life to count. There is a great quote from that famous book of theology, "The Princess Bride", that goes like this:
Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgement that there is something more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. In traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be the key is to allow yourself to make the journey.
Jesus was always on the move. Not just geographically, but spiritually. He was always growing, always becoming. So are we. Sometimes we have to fake it til we make it. Sometimes we have to just keep moving. But I think the first step is to hear the words, and believe that what counts is our life. It can happen when you’re standing in line at a store. We can wake up anywhere. The key is to allow ourselves to make the journey.

Being Surprized

Sermon-Year C-Advent 2 December 6, 2009
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
When’s the last time you were surprised at Christmas? Remember when Christmas was all about being surprised, not knowing what was coming?
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius-the Caesar of all the Roman Empire, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John-who was standing out in the wilderness. Five world leaders, the 2 highest religious leaders. And the word of God came to….John. A man who was nothing. A man who had no nice clothes, no home, a man who lived on insects and honey. A man who lived in the wilderness. And this is who the Word of God came to? Do you think Luke the gospel writer is trying to make a point?
Why would God choose someone so, unimportant, so unlikely, so improbable to use as a messenger? Think about it for a moment. Could God have chosen a more implausible person to get the world ready for a savior? Well, I suppose he could have-God could have chosen some young teen aged woman from an unassuming, no name family but even God would never do that, right. The Advent story is supposed to convince us how crazy God is, how he never uses what we would use, to change the world. The Advent story is supposed to surprise us.
How would you announce that a savior was coming? How would you try to stop the world-or even slow it down? How would you grab people’s attention? How would you let people know that the world was changing? My guess is that you wouldn’t send one person, WITHOUT wifi, out into the wilderness who would start yelling that people needed to change their lives. My guess is that you wouldn’t send one person, a young woman, who would simply promise to be faithful no matter how hard it became. I think we would have done a much better job than God at getting the word out. You wouldn’t trust this life saving, life changing message to people who were so, small and unimportant. We would be a lot more careful than God, a lot smarter, a lot wiser, we would plan things MUCH better.
When’s the last time you were surprised at Christmas?
Over and over in Advent we hear stories of the unexpected, the unprepared, the unready. Everyone in the Advent story is always incredulous, disbelieving, skeptical-have you ever noticed? John the Baptist’s parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth, John’s parents were too old. Zechariah was even struck mute until he wrote these famous words-“His name is John” (not Zechariah). And so we have the song sung by Zechariah. Elizabeth was too old, they gave the baby a non-family name (unheard of, impossible!). Everything around the story of John the Baptist was a shock. Nothing happened according to plan.
Every year at Christmas I preach on getting our hearts ready for the birth of a savior. But as I listened to today’s gospel I started wondering, is that wise? Maybe we’re supposed to be caught off guard, perhaps we shouldn’t even try to be prepared. No one seems to be in the gospel story, right? I think back to when Christmas was most fun, most exciting for me-and for most people--it’s when I was about 6-I didn’t know what was coming next-when everything was a bombshell.
When’s the last time you were surprised at Christmas?
It becomes and harder to get surprised the older I get. I work a lot at being prepared, being ready. Don’t you? We do all these things to be organized. Usually when we get startled (at least at my age) it’s not a good thing. It means something caught us unawares, we were metaphorically, napping. I’m meeting with 4 couples right now who are preparing for marriage next year. If you want to see someone who works around the clock to be prepared (usually for several months), look at a bride. Or a bride’s mother. I don’t think we want to be surprized. That’s why Advent may be important for us. Advent is the time when strange characters stand out in the wilderness and yell at us, “PREPARE TO BE SURPRIZED!” It’s when angels come to people and say, “YOU CAN”T BE READY FOR THIS”. Advent is the time when we look up at stars and hear odd voices, and get visits from unusual people, all saying the same thing, “you won’t believe what’s coming next!” I started counting all the things yesterday that were surprizes. The Legos team won the Spirit award at the state competition. Blane was in shock. The coldest day of the year so far, and there were Tianna and Sara Eziuka standing out in front of WalMart ringing the bell for the Salvation Army. As I turned to leave them, and I was thinking about this sermon and the surprizes that I had yesterday, there were fireworks going off over Belleville lake (after the Christmas parade). When I started looking for revelations they were all around me.
I think Advent is the season when we’re supposed to be surprized. I think this is the season when we’re supposed to walk around noticing all the things that catch us unawares. Every Biblical story in Advent is about how God shocked normal folks with amazing things. And the more I thought about this, the more I thought-maybe this is how I should get ready-to look for surprizes.
Last week I asked you to Choose quiet, to watch, to wait, to slow down. This week I ask you to allow yourself to be surprized,-to be caught off guard, to notice how many times in a day that something happens that you don’t expect. The more I watched last week, the more I waited, the more I slowed down and became quieter-the more surprises I saw and felt. I think this is what we do in Advent, what people did in the first Advent-they allowed themselves to be surprised. It isn’t an easy thing for adults. We almost have to be ready for it. We have to prepare ourselves to be surprised-and that’s an oxymoron. But I think this is what Advent teaches me-when I slow down, watch, listen, quiet, wait, that’s when the surprises come.
When’s the last time you were surprised at Christmas?
Luke 3:1-6
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"