Christmas Eve December 24th 2012 Luke 2 1-20

GOSPEL LUKE 2:1-20)

1In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.

HYMN: O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM #44

6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

HYMN: AWAY IN A MANGER 24/25

8In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

14  “Glory to God in the highest heaven,

          and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

HYMN:                           Hark the Herald Angels Sing #31

15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

In the comfort of Christmas, in the comfort of care, we find Christ.

I would have thought we would get more than one sentence about the birth of our Lord. I would have thought there would be beautiful description of Mary, of Joseph, of Jesus. When we hear stories of children children being born, we get the weight, the height, the exact time, we get the day right, and the season for sure. We get stories of how long it took, and where the water broke, and if there was much crying, or sleeping. We hear who was there, and who was waiting in the other room. We hear the stories and they are more than one line. With Jesus we get one line. “She gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger.” That is our one line.

I would have thought the shepherds would have been given a greater sign. I would have thought, they might have at least gotten a star like the wise men. I would have thought, there would be something like fireworks over the manger, maybe a strobe light to follow, maybe an amazing song, or even a decadent smell. Something to follow, something to lead them to the nativity. I would have thought they would have been given a greater sign. The angels are the ones who give it, no less, and the direction are one line.  They are told simply, “You will find a babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes, wrapped in bands of cloth, lying in a manger.” That’s it. That is their one direction.

I would have thought there would have been more to see, and more to say, when the shepherds found Jesus. I would have thought they would have described Jesus’ face. Was he born with hair? Did he open his eyes? What color were they? Did he look at them? Did they get to hold him? Did he squirm or sleep? What was Jesus like? We don’t get much, They found the child lying in the manger.

Thats all we get of Jesus. Perhaps, its all we need. If so, what is it about being wrapped in bands of cloth, being swaddled, and lying in a manger? What does it tell us about our Lord? Newborn babies are swaddled, wrapped tightly as in a womb. They are not used to this unbound world. They long for the comfort and security they have left. Can you imagine Jesus, this heavenly child, coming into this earthly world. Can you imagine what he left behind? Can you imagine the fear of the world he has come into? Can you imagine how much he needed to be swaddled?

It is amazing that is the piece we hear. By Mary’s swaddling Jesus she connects the time before Jesus was born, to the time after. By Mary’s swaddling she connects the heavenly world to this world, making a transition for Jesus. In Mary wrapping Jesus in bands of cloth, she provides comfort and security to Jesus, like he knew before. Perhaps this small piece, this single sentence is all we need. Perhaps all we need to know of Jesus is that he was swaddled. Perhaps thats all we need to learn. That when someone is wrapped tight, when someone is given comfort, when someone is made to feel secure, the separation between heaven and earth, is made smaller. That in our acts of love, in holding one another with care, we connect heaven and earth. 

Perhaps sitting in this room together this night, warming this space, tightly packed side by side, we are wrapping one another in bands of cloth. Perhaps, this night we swaddle one another with love and care, with comfort and security. Perhaps by our presence together this night we are closing in the space between heaven and earth. Perhaps this is enough.

December 23rd, 2012 LUKE 1:39-55

LUKE 1:39-55

³⁹In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, ⁴⁰where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 

⁴¹When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the child leaped in her womb.

And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit ⁴²and exclaimed with a loud cry,

"Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. ⁴³And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? ⁴⁴For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. ⁴⁵And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord."

⁴⁶And Mary said,

"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.

⁵⁴He has helped his servant Israel,

in remembrance of his mercy,

⁵⁵according to the promise he made to our ancestors,

to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

***

Perhaps this is not the Sunday to tell you I don’t believe in the virgin birth, but perhaps, this is exactly the Sunday to tell you because when given this scripture, a non virgin Mary, lifts up Mary, lifts up God, and lifts us up in a tangible yet unbelievable and immensely sacred way. It also lifts up the story of Mary in way that is congruent with who Jesus would come to be.

Before you stop listening, before you write this sermon off, I will give you the scriptural basis for this interpretation. In the Greek, one of the Bible’s original languages the word we now translate virgin, also meant young. That is the the interpretation I prefer, young.

I prefer Mary not be perfect. I prefer her not to have spoken to the angel Gabriel with complete devotion and servitude. I prefer Mary to have been humanly scared, and humanly unsure. I prefer Mary to have been a sinner, rather than a saint.

With this view, I imagine Mary deeply ashamed, going with haste to Elizabeth. I wonder what she thought about on that journey. I wonder what she felt. I wonder if she grieved the life she thought she’d have. Was Joseph planning to quietly dismiss her, or would he make a scene, so that everyone knew. I wonder if she was saying goodbye to her wedding day, her dress, the banquet meal surrounded by family and friends. I wonder if she wished in the least for a shotgun wedding, that Joseph would still take her as his bride. I wonder if when she really looked at it, if she thought her life was over. I wonder about her regrets. I wonder in such a patriarchal society, how much choice she had. I wonder if she saw the injustice of her lack of choices, or if she was her own worst critic. Did she suppose the angel was but a dream, or her mind going delusional. I wonder what she thought about, and what she felt on the way.

I imagine it was with a deep sense of shame that Mary sought Elizabeth. Mary was 13 and pregnant out of wedlock. I wonder if she ran away to Elizabeth, not knowing what to do, wondering if Elizabeth would hide her, and keep her secret. My own fifteen year old birthmother told no one I was inside her until her 9th month, when her mother finally asked. My birthmother went to the library and read books on pregnancy, but besides the words on the page which named her reality, no one else knew. Not my birthfather, not her very own mother, no friend, she was completely alone. I imagine Mary feeling the same weight of this secret. I imagine her not telling her parents. I am thankful that Mary had a place to go. I wonder what was it about Elizabeth that made her a safe person to confide in.

I pray it was not the case that Mary’s parents shipped her off to the hill country, the rural town where her cousin Elizabeth lived, where no one would know. Elizabeth could have twins, instead of just John. There are too many stories of this happening, of pregnant unwed women being shipped off. An older friend of mine was shipped off to another state, to a house run by nuns. Her family neither visited, nor wrote, nor talked about it openly afterward. It was my friend’s shame to carry in silence. There are too many stories of a woman’s shame being increased like this, and I do not doubt the practice was alive and well in Biblical times. I wonder if Mary feared Elizabeth’s reaction. Elizabeth was an old woman, a preacher’s wife, pregnant in wedlock after trying for so so long. Not only was Mary carrying the shame of pregnancy out of wedlock, but she had easily become pregnant when Elizabeth had waited so long. Would Elizabeth be both judgmental and jealous?

My pastor friend, Marci became a birthmother in college. The people whose judgment she feared more than anyone were church people. Elizabeth is church people, she is married to the preacher, or in those days, the priest.  Mary must enter the preacher, Zechariah’s house. Perhaps Mary’s parents thought it would be like the convent of nuns caring for unwed mothers. But I hope that those convents, were like Marci’s church in college, were like Elizabeth’s greeting.

At the mere sound of Mary’s greeting, Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. The child in Elizabeth’s womb leapt. And Elizabeth called shame filled Mary blessed, called her unwed, 13 year old pregnancy blessed, called Mary’s burden bringing visit a blessing, calls Mary’s unbelievable story about angels a blessing of faith. In that moment, Elizabeth has taken away Mary’s shame and called her blessed. In that moment society as they knew it, and as we know it, was turned upside down. A thirteen year old, unwed, pregnant girl becomes the mother of our Lord. And isn’t that how Jesus would have it be? The same Jesus who would be born in a manger, who would be the son of a carpenter, who would grow up in Nazareth, who would not throw the first stone, who would eat with sinners and tax collectors, who would heal the sick and the lame, who would ride into town on a donkey, and would die beside thieves. Isn’t an unwed, pregnant, thirteen-year-old girl who Jesus would pick? Isn’t it?

   Isn’t it this, not Mary perfection, but her human lowliness, that makes Mary the perfect bearer of God. Isn’t this, Mary’s sinfulness, that makes Mary a saint. I believe it is this, and I believe that it extends not just to Mary, but to us, to the humanness, and the lowliness in each of us, that in those places God will dwell, and be born in us. This is the good news. This is to what Mary responds,

"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.

⁵⁴He has helped his servant Israel,

in remembrance of his mercy,

⁵⁵according to the promise he made to our ancestors,

to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

This is the good news, this is the promise. That Jesus is coming, not for the perfect, but for the imperfect, not for the saints, but for the sinners, not for the powerful but for the powerless, not for the rich but for the poor, not for the proud but for the lowly, for the thirteen year old unwed mother. Isn’t it this? Isn’t this the good news? 

December 16th, 2012 LUKE 3:7-18

LUKE 3:7-18

John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him,

"You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you,  God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."

And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying,

"I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

***

            I’m with ya this Sunday. I’d rather sing Christmas songs than this Advent waiting. I’d rather preach about the birth of child, and forget about the death of so many children. I’d rather hear the angels sing, “Gloria, Excelsis Deo,” than hear John, calling us, “You brood of vipers.” Today, I’m not a fan of the waiting.  I’m ready for Christmas, and not just the one that comes in a week and a day, not the one that comes every year. I’m ready for Christ to come. I’m ready for him to come in his final glory. Maybe the doomsday sayers are on to something. They at least are preparing. Unfortunately they are preparing for the worst, and we need to be preparing for the best. Isn’t this what John is telling us to do?

            The crowds ask, “What then should we do?” John said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.”  Now, I don’t want to tell you how many coats I have. I come up with excuses, well that one is from my great Aunt, and I got that one for free, and there are dress coats for dressy things, and active coats for active things, and rain coats for rainy things. And yes, well, I guess that grey one I don’t wear much because in a sense it is a duplicate of the black one, but it has helped when friends from the South come to visit and think tank tops will suffice at the top of Anthony Lakes in April. Yet, I know there are enough people without coats, for each of my coats to be someone’s only coat. That is just coats, and I think John is speaking a metaphor for more than coats. He mentions food too, and luckily, as a single person who dislikes cooking, my fridge is pretty barren. But all joking aside, John, seems pretty serious, ‘brood of vipers,’ doesn’t seem friendly to me. It seems like a challenge.

            The tax collectors ask John, “Teacher, what should we do?” John said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” The tax collectors in John’s time would charge people more, so they could keep a greater amount for themselves. It was primarily the poor who paid taxes. Those who had the least were filling the pockets of those who had more. Now, I’m not going to get into a discussion about the 99% or the 47%, but I am going to ask if there are places in our lives where we take more than our fair share. Do we do this with money, with land, with water, with travel, with time? I grew up in a place of drought, and a place with water restrictions. The city, San Antonio, grows to the North, the same place where the water for the aquifer, seeps into the ground. This recharge zone was both prime real estate for developers, and also for San Antonio’s drinking water, and also for a few endangered species that live only in the Aquifer. The Texas Blind Salamander is a cool little creature almost see through with fuzzy looking ears, and no eyes. The developers, because they were powerful and connected with City Council often won in the fight over that land. Malls and Six Flags, and golf courses covered up the recharge zone. The developers one. I won too, I’d take long showers, and play in the sprinkler for hours. It wasn’t my water. It’s God’s water, and I wasn’t sharing enough. John was getting after me. How might John be getting after you for taking more than your fair share?

            The soldiers asked John, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation and be satisfied with your wages.” The soldiers too took advantage of those less powerful. They would threaten people, and accuse them in order to get money or goods from them. John’s answer again is for justice and for mercy. This type of answer is mind boggling to them. Unlike us, they have not heard it over and over. But like us, they need to hear it again. Because, as much as we want to be singing Christmas songs, we have a lot more Advent preparing to do before Christ comes. Christmas will come and go, and each year, we are given a time to get ready. We are given a time to prepare. Will we be ready in a day and a week? Will we be ready when Christ comes again? Are you ready? How many coats do you have? How many meals could the stock in your pantry feed?

            The crowds surrounding John are like us. They want a Messiah. If there were Christmas songs, I have no doubt they would be singing them already. They think they are ready for the Messiah. They believe the Messiah to be John, and they believe they are ready enough to stand before him. Thank goodness they found John first and John prepares them to be ready for Jesus.

             John tells them one more powerful than he is coming. That John merely baptizes them with water, but that Jesus will baptize them with the Spirit and with Fire. It is a blessing. It is a blessing that one who will show us the way is coming, and has come so many Christmas’ ago. It is a blessing that we know what that baby asks us is justice and mercy. It is blessing that each time we do these things, Jesus comes, and is made real in flesh. It is a blessing that in our work feeding others, and caring for others, we are able to kneel at the feet of God. It is blessing to have the time to prepare.

            It is a blessing, but it is also a challenge. John warns them and I ask you, “Are you truly ready, because Christ will come with his winnowing fork in his hand to clear the threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his grainery, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire. Hung up in my closet, my coats are chaff, I’m not ready to have all but one burn. I’m not ready to only be allowed 3 minute showers for the rest of my life. I’d rather make the change myself, then watch Jesus take it away from me. I’d rather the learning that comes from seeking justice and mercy. I’d rather have the time to prepare. What about you? What do you need to give up before Christmas? Do you have enough time? Are you prepared? This Advent my friends, is the Good News. 

December 9, 2012 Luke 3:1-6

FIRST READING MALACHI 3:1-4

¹See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight — indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. ²But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?

For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap; ³he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness. ⁴Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in the days of old and as in former years.

LUKE 3:1-6

¹In 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,

²during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas,

the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

³He went into all the region around the Jordan,

proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,

⁴as 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.

⁵Every 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;

⁶and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"

***

Some have hills, some have valleys, in our town we have both. We have neither the highest hills, nor the lowest valleys. Some have smooth straight paths, and others rugged and rough winding passes. We have both, but for the most part, we can cross from one side to the other, depending on the weather. Here in the place half way between the equator and the North Pole, we sit, rather comfortably. It is not a bad place to be. Not bad at all. Yet, I wonder, what paths need to be bridged.

In the time Isaiah and the time of Luke, in the time of Cephias, and Herod, Tiberius and Pontius Pilate, in the time of John, and Zechariah, it wasn’t that easy to get from one side the other. There was wilderness in between, a place with no bridge across it, a place with no straight paths through it, a place divided by rugged mountains and desert valleys, perhaps it was like the Oregon Trail. Perhaps it was that kind of wilderness, that kind of divide. Yet, I think it was more than physical. Will used to say that the only way to get across playing the Oregon Trail computer game was to be a banker. I wonder if this was true in those days, the days of John, and the governor of Judea, in the days before Christ. I wonder if this inequality of wealth is what brought John from the wilderness to the edge of civilization by the river Jordan. I wonder if, when the Word of God came to John in the wilderness, it said something was wrong if the only way to survive was to be rich, to be the banker, or the tax collector, the debt keeper.

You see when John talks about repentance for the forgiveness of sins, he is also talking about the forgiveness of debts. Its why in these days, there are at least three English translations of that part of the Lord’s Prayer, ‘debts and debtors, sins and sinners, trespasses and those who trespass against us.’ In John’s day the religion, and the government, and the wealth was all controlled by the same people. There was no separation of church and state, of religion and power. There were those that had, and those that had not, and there was an impassable mountain between them.

Today, what mountains stand between us? What mountains stand between us and those who are indebted to us? From the valley, what might we hold against those who hold our debt. Can the mountain and valley between us, debts and debtors be made low? In our church, are we on a mountain overlooking a valley between us and those we serve? In what ways is our endowment a bridge, and in what ways is it is a mountain? Is it bridge when we are downstairs in the basement serving breakfast and packing bags? Does it remain a mountain if the wealthy and powerful are still ones deciding how our endowment should be spent and kept? Do we allow ourselves to be served, to be guided by the poor? Or are we the Emperors and the bankers? How do we make the mountains low and fill in the valleys?

In our own lives, is their desert valley separating us and those who have sinned against us? In our own lives, is their desert valley separating us and those we have sinned against? Are there people whom we don’t talk to because something was left unsaid, or perhaps too much was said? As the holidays approach, is their family who will not be sitting at our table because of our own doing, or because of their choosing? What wilderness lies between us? Are there people in our church, who have left because the valley seemed to big to cross? Are there people in our church who would rather not come to the table together because a wilderness lies between them? Are there people who are not invited to our communion table, to our dining room table, because of the color of their skin, or their sexual orientation, or religion, or politics? What are the wildernesses in our lives? Where are the desert valleys, which remain impassable? From what mountain do we watch? From what valley do we look upon those on the mountain with distain? Where are the wildernesses in our lives? What are the places that are impassable?

I tell you, these impassable places are the places between us and the coming of our Lord. We must prepare, we must make the mountains low and the valleys filled. We must make the crooked straight, and the rough ways smooth. It is this building and navigating that we will see the coming of our Lord. What wilderness lies between you and the coming of our Lord? What keeps you from seeing the salvation of God. As you prepare this Advent season, as you wrap gifts, and trim the tree, think about how you might begin to make a bridge, how you might continue to make a mountain low, and a valley filled in.

I say continue because this is not the first Advent season. Bridges have begun, below in our church basement they have begun. In our welcome, to those of all different walks of life in this church they have begun. In our personal lives, reaching out to lost loved ones, they have begun. In our work as teachers, and lawyers, moms and dads, business people and keepers of creation in ranch and forest, builders and retired workers, best friends, and new friends. You are a congregation at work building bridges. The women’s support group sent out bags and bags of cookies, to those who could not be here with us, to those who just might need a sweet caring gesture. A bunch of youth, and a their parents, a bunch of congregation members have helped me at the manse in recent weeks. I feel indebted. I do, but I also can see paths made through a wilderness of paint cans, and fallen leaves, and an empty home. A group of Presbyterians, and Baptists, and school filled jars of peanut butter for hungry kids. These are the paths which prepare us for the coming of our Lord. These are the mountains and hills and desert valleys which navigate us closer to the Christ. These are ways the crooked become straight. The voice of one has cried out in the wilderness and we have responded, we are responding, and we will continue to respond until all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

November 18th 2012 Guest Preacher Candy Arledge

As some of you know, I was raised in the Mormon Church.  As a child, it seemed fairly normal.  In Sunday school we learned about the usual stories from the Old Testament: creation, Adam and Eve, Noah’s ark, Jonah and the whale, Daniel in the Lion’s Den, Ruth and Naomi.  The usual stuff children learn in Sunday school.  

Somewhere along the age of 10 or 12 it slowly and subtly began to change, and I was introduced to the ‘doctrine’ of the Mormon Church; the 13 articles of faith and the Book of Mormon. 

And the dawn of confusion began.  By the time I was 15 or 16, I had seriously begun to discount the Doctrine of the Mormon Church.  And it seemed that I had a decisive ability to completely separate my “faith” from the religion of the Mormon Church.  And that is exactly what I did.  At 16 - I dug in my heels and told my parents that the Mormon religion did not ring true in my heart, but not to worry because my faith in God was solid as a rock. 

And in fact my faith in a creator, God the higher power, has been a huge part of my soul and being from the beginning.  My faith is unshakable, even in the darkest moments of my life, and grows stronger with every year that I live. 

But religion, that was a different story altogether.  When I cut the ties with the Mormon religion, I began to delve into philosophy and to search for a critical thinking support system that would allow me to declare my ‘faith’, but not have to adhere to the rules of any organized religion. 

And so I devoured the works of Socrates, Plato, St. Augustine, and Thomas Aquinas.  And then I stumbled upon Soren Kierkegaard⁽¹⁾, a Danish philosopher and theologian who is considered to be the ‘father’ of existentialism. 

Existentialism is by definition, a philosophical school of thought that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of the individual experience in a hostile or indifferent universe, and stresses freedom of choice and responsibility for the consequences of one’s acts.  Wow! 

I thought I’d hit on a model of critical thinking I was looking for.  And I read everything Kierkegaard wrote.  And I discovered that his base of existentialism evolved into what is known as Christian Existentialism.  Kierkegaard maintained that the universe is paradoxical and the greatest paradox is the transcendent union of God and man in the person of Christ. 

That is the ultimate “leap of faith’ because it defies explanation or logic.  Additionally, he proposes that we all must make independent choices and that we all suffer from the anguish of indecision until we commit to a particular choice about a way to live. 

And so, I committed to a system of beliefs and faith and chose a way to live that incorporated these beliefs and faith and also (and this was vitally important) allowed me to disregard organized religion.  And I was really happy with this for many years. 

And then I wasn’t happy.  I began to realize that it did not address enough; that it was lacking and somewhat self-indulgent and self-centered.  And I began to rethink the need for and the role of organized religion in society.  It is the organized body of believers that sends missionaries out to the corners of our world. It is the organized body of believers that support group efforts to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and look after the sick, widowed, and orphaned⁽²⁾.  Collectively, an organized body of believers i.e. organized religion, can do so much more good in the world and can relieve so much more human suffering by working together and relying on their faith as the common and unshakeable bond. 

So I have come full circle.  I have sought out and committed to an organized religion, one that parallels my own unshakeable beliefs and faith. 

Should you ask me if I find my God in the church on Sunday, I would have to say yes and no.  I find my God in communion with nature, God’s creation.  I have my deepest conversations with God while I am on the back of my horse riding across the landscape he created.  And I find grace and forgiveness through Christ, who died on the cross for me and for you. 

What I find in this church is a deep bond with other people of similar faith.  And I find a path by which I can give back to my community and humanity in general.  And I find love and acceptance.   AND YES, I definitely find God in this church.

⁽¹⁾ Wikipedia cited

⁽²⁾ PeterChristensenblog.com cited

October 28th 2012 - JOB 42:1-6, 10-17 NRSV

October 28^th 2012 - JOB 42:1-6, 10-17 NRSV

¹Then Job answered the LORD: 

²"I know that you can do all things,

and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. 

³'Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?'

Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,

things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. 

⁴'Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you declare to me.' 

⁵I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; ⁶therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

¹⁰And the LORD restored the fortunes of Job

when he had prayed for his friends;

and the LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before. 

¹¹Then there came to him all his brothers and sisters

and all who had known him before,

and they ate bread with him in his house;

they showed him sympathy and comforted him

for all the evil that the LORD had brought upon him;

and each of them gave him a piece of money and a gold ring. ¹

²The LORD blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning;

and he had fourteen thousand sheep,

six thousand camels,

 a thousand yoke of oxen,

and a thousand donkeys. 

¹³He also had seven sons and three daughters. 

¹⁴He named the first Jemimah, the second Keziah, and the third Keren-happuch. 

¹⁵In all the land there were no women so beautiful as Job's daughters;

and their father gave them an inheritance along with their brothers.

¹⁶After this Job lived one hundred and forty years,

and saw his children,

and his children's children, four generations. 

¹⁷And Job died, old and full of days.

***

It has been a long journey through Job. First God seemed to be playing chess with the devil and Job was the pawn, no more blameless or righteous than a wooden rook. At first Job bit his tongue and would not swear against the Lord even after his family had died, his wealth was gone, and his health decaying. Job rightly refused to believe that his suffering was in response to his sins. After a time Job finally questioned God. Job asked why he suffered, where God was, and questioned God’s power and goodness. None of his questions were answered, but God answered Job’s suffering. God pointed out to Job all the things, which Job could not do. Job could not order the sea, or the seasons, nor did he create the heavens and the earth. Job’s understanding, while valid, was not the complete picture. God gave Job a glimpse of that bigger picture. The story says that God also blessed Job again with family, and wealth. Wealth so large it seems a fairy tale.

This ending of Job seems like the line, “and they lived happily ever after.” But I think that one of the most important parts of the story lies hidden in this happy ending. It is the part where we see how Job responds to the suffering he went though and the good gifts of God. The story tells us,

“¹³Job also had seven sons and three daughters. ¹⁴He named the first daughter Jemimah, the second Keziah, and the third Keren-happuch…. and their father gave them an inheritance along with their brothers”

Job knew what it is like to have everything taken away. I imagine he could relate to the women of his time, who could own no property, who were property themselves. In the story, Job’s daughters get listed after the sheep, camel, oxen and the donkeys. Their life, without God intervening, was unjust because of the society they lived in. In the beginning of Job, Job’s sons would invite Job’s daughters over for dinner. It reads as if the daughters could not do the same in return. I wonder if Job could relate to this powerlessness. I wonder if after having everything taken away Job understood and wanted to give. I wonder if Job wanted to right the wrongs. If Job wanted to seek justice. I think through his pain he caught a glimpse of the world of the devil, a world of suffering and injustice, and he wanted to rectify his part. I think God shows us things in our suffering that allow us to see God’s world more clearly.

I wonder too, if in response to seeing God’s gifts, Job wanted to praise God. I wonder, if in response to God’s gifts not only of wealth and family, but gifts of an existence beyond Job’s control, of a creation indescribable, Job wanted to praise God.  I think sometimes when we are at our lowest, the smallest gifts of wonder hit us in a way we otherwise miss. This morning I looked out at the maple tree behind the manse. Its bark was black with rain, and the dark branches were like the borders of stained glass against yellow gossamer leaves.  I was thankful and took a picture. I had looked at that dark bark every time it rained, but it took a hard day to make me appreciate it enough to take a picture. To praise God, by taking a moment to say thank you in art.

Job says, “Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ⁵I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you."

I think sometimes it takes a tough moment to see God. It is not as if God is more or less present, but perhaps we are less present in the good times. Perhaps Job, with all his wealth, at the story’s beginning was not really noticing all God was doing. God was ordering the seasons, and God was seeking justice. God was looking at Job’s wealth and Job’s slaves, and daughters and when the devil was at work in Job’s suffering, God was working to give Job new eyes. Eyes for God. Eyes for God’s purpose in the world. Eyes to be God’s servant, to praise God, and seek God’s justice for God’s people.

Fairy tale or parable, fact or fiction, I see tangible reality in Job’s response. Throughout this story I think we learn more about Job, and more about humanity, and more about humanity trying understand God, than we do about God. This is story us, to try to understand our existence. I think we are to learn from Job in this story. To learn from his way of being. From a man who will praise God in the midst of suffering, to a man who will question God about suffering, to a man who sees the wonder of God’s created world and finds healing, to a man who seeks to respond to God’s gifts with justice and kindness. Its about us, its about you, and its about me. It’s about our stories, and our faith, and our God.

October 26th, 2012 - Sermon for the Eastern Oregon Presbytery gathering LUKE 10:38-42 NRSV

October 26^th, 2012 - Sermon for the Eastern Oregon Presbytery gathering

LUKE 10:38-42 NRSV

Now as they went on their way,

 he entered a certain village,

 where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 

She had a sister named Mary,

 who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. 

But Martha was distracted by her many tasks;

 so she came to him and asked,

"Lord, do you not care that my sister

has left me to do all the work by myself?

 Tell her then to help me." 

But the Lord answered her,

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 

 there is need of only one thing.

Mary has chosen the better part,

 which will not be taken away from her."

***

It’s been a four-sermon week, two funerals, a Sunday service, and this one for you. I did not know that was even possible. Chalk it up to the things they don’t teach you in seminary. I had tried to take some time off for self-care, but two, lets say, ‘untimely,’ deaths blew that out of the water. In addition, church members and I had begun to paint the manse. I thought I would take time to paint and think. Instead, furniture remains stacked up in the living room, and painted over wallpaper is has made a disaster of the kitchen. The stuff we moved into another room makes getting dressed an acrobatic task of jumping over plastic curtain panels their metal rods. I’ve been proud of myself for not falling over on it yet. The other morning I caught myself way past mid-fall. A mirror was next to me and I had never seen every muscle in my body work together at the same time. I didn’t even recognize myself. I don’t really recognize myself in general right now.

In seminary a friend said I was the one she knew who lived like a Mary. I was good at missing class or chapel to go explore Atlanta, or tend to a friend. I was the one who always knew the weather, because I had spent time on a run my spiritual practice. I was the one who noticed the owl in a tree, or the fuzzy caterpillar on the concrete sidewalk. Right now, I feel like it’s exam week. My college roommates would tease me when I’d get this stressed. I would be typing away at my computer and they would all of a sudden start loudly sighing, saying, “woe is me.” I would have no idea that for the last hour I had been sighing at my computer. It was their way of showing me my stress, and reminding me that it’s just a paper.

I think Martha had been sighing. She was busy in the kitchen and each task from chopping vegetables to cleaning pots, was done with an angry edge of vigor. Jesus, like other men of his time, had come unannounced and expecting to be served. On top of that her sister is just sitting there listening to him, instead of helping.

Recently, I’ve been saying to God, “Really?, Really? Now really?” I was trying to do the Mary thing, the self-care thing, the spiritual practice thing, but it seems as though my vocation is trying to make me into a Martha. "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” Even writing this sermon, I wonder, why does Presbytery give the sermon to its newest member. I barely even know anyone. I’m still just now learning how the Presbytery works in actuality. They said they wanted to get to know me, well you sure are, maybe more than you intended. "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” I have been complaining. I have been like Martha.

Yet, Jesus keeps responding, “There is only need of one thing.” Jesus keeps responding, Steve Kliewer said he’d write the liturgy. Jim Kauth drove here. Ginger Rembold is preaching for me next Sunday. Roger Harworth told me I can ask other pastors for help in emergencies. Congregation members send cards daily. A pastor’s group in town sends texts and e-mails frequently. Dale and Judy Wilkins stopped by with hugs, apples and Elk meat. Congregation members and townspeople have invited me to dinner almost every other day. The leaves are turning their bold and brilliant colors and the snow is falling painting the mountains. I mean really, congregation members are helping me pull off 6 times painted over wallpaper. And mostly, I have never felt so surrounded by prayer. It is unbelievable. Jesus has been in my house. He is sitting in my living room telling of the kingdom, and I have been complaining in the kitchen.

I wonder where we will be at this Presbytery meeting? Will we be in the kitchen, getting things done, getting lost in parliamentary procedure, getting caught up in how long a presentation is taking? Will we be worried and distracted by many things? Or will we be in the living room sitting at Jesus’ feet? Will we choose the better part?

Perhaps its not an either or. This sermon had to be preached, we Presbyterians have to meet, and Martha needed to make dinner, but maybe there is another way.

Maybe it’s about opening up the floor plan, about allowing people to see and squeeze into our tiny messy kitchen. Maybe it’s about opening up ourselves and opening up our ideas of how things should be done, maybe its about allowing ourselves to be served. Maybe we could invite Jesus and Mary into the kitchen, into the busy work, into the chores and tasks that drain us. Maybe Jesus can chop the vegetables, and Mary can clean the pots, and we can cook together while listening to Jesus. Maybe on this weekend, as we go about our agenda, as we discuss the mundane and the controversial, we can remember to invite Jesus in. Maybe we can open up ideas of how things should be done and allow Jesus to show us his way. Maybe we can allow ourselves to be served, as well as servants. Maybe our complaining can turn to praising, and our meeting can turn to worship, and our work become the better part, the only thing we need, that which will not be taken away us.