Luke 1:26-38, December 20, 2020, Sermon

“When God Comes Calling” 

Pastor Randy Butler

How does God interact with human beings? In what ways do our lives and God’s divine life intersect? There are as many answers to such questions as there are examples from the Bible. God calls upon Noah to build an ark, asks Abraham to leave his home, presses Moses into service against his will, God and Moses arguing all the way. God leads the people of Israel by fire and cloud, God anoints David, sets afire the minds and hearts of the prophets to speak God’s will to people and power, and yet speaks in the silence to Elijah. God shows up in dreams to others. God encounters Saul on the road to Damascus, knocks him off his feet. And God sometimes just comes calling.

That’s what happens with a young woman from Nazareth in Galilee named Mary. Her life is good, she is engaged to be married to Joseph. Everybody is looking forward to the big wedding day. And then God comes calling, completely shaking up her plans and dreams for her future with Joseph. So sometimes when God calls the result is totally disruptive. We would like to think that when God enters our lives that we would feel love and peace, and sometimes we do but often it is just the opposite. We are totally caught off guard and our comfortable lives are disrupted, interrupted by God. Father William McNamara says “God is not necessarily nice. God is not a buddy, or an uncle or a mascot. God is an earthquake.” Well, that’s what Mary discovers. She is being hit with an earthquake, what is really an unwanted pregnancy.

So what we learn about the way God interacts with us is that God takes initiative with us, makes contact, initiates contact. God sends an angel to Mary, and what she hears is confusing, not really comforting. “Greetings favored one!” says the angel, “The Lord is with you.” And Mary’s first response is confusion. The text says she is perplexed, and indicates that she is fearful. That is often the response we have when God comes calling – fear. And that is true for Mary. She is afraid, and perplexed.

Now at this point I might just say, and maybe you too, might just say, “OK, I’m outta here. This is too strange. And too demanding.” But Mary doesn’t do that. She hangs in there with this strange visitor. Sometimes in the big life changing events of our lives we just look for the door, the nearest escape. But Mary ponders the meaning of these things. She ponders what sort of divine greeting and interruption this is.

What does happen when our lives are interrupted? How do we respond when we lose a loved one – a spouse, a child, or a parent? How do we handle the earthquake of divorce or the loss of a job? These are among the major disruptive events of our lives. We may want to run, but Mary encourages us to stay and ponder, and learn and grow from these major events. When our family was disrupted by mental illness in a family member I wanted to run. But I am learning very slowly to ponder, and pray and learn how God is in this, how the love and grace of God comes in the disruption.

Mary doesn’t reject the angel Gabriel, or tell him to leave. But when the angel tells the whole story and her role in it, she does have a few questions. And that is fair enough. When God comes calling questions are allowed, even doubts are OK. “How can this be,” she wonders, “Since I am a virgin.” Some of us are raised to believe that we should never question God, or have doubts. Any reading of the Psalms of the Old Testament will put that notion to rest. “How long O Lord, will you forget me forever?” - Psalm 13. “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” - Psalm 22. “Rouse yourself, Why do you sleep O Lord, Awake do not cast us off forever!” – Psalm 44. And that’s just a few examples. Doubts and questions drive us deeper into engagement with God. In the book of Genesis, the patriarch Jacob doesn’t settle for polite churchy conversation but wrestles with God on the bank of the Jabbok River, Jacob and God getting muddy and bloody. That’s how God and Jacob interact. And Jacob emerges with blessing and promise.

So Mary’s question is reasonable enough, and the angel offers a very compassionate and helpful answer. He does three things. First he offers some explanation. He says, “This will happen by the Holy Spirit, who will embrace and overshadow you, and the child coming from this union will be holy. He will be the son of God.” So there is discussion about this. Mary is not expected to just accept this without some explanation. I will say it again, when God comes calling questions are allowed. Second, the angel refers Mary to Elizabeth. It’s like the angel is saying, “I know this is a lot to take in. Go talk to Elizabeth. Something similar is going on with her. She too is pregnant by unusual circumstances. She is now in her sixth month and you need to talk with her.”

I really like this. There are people in our lives who are a little further down the road in the “when God comes calling” journey. They have experience to share, wisdom to pass on. They can share what they did when this happened to them. God does not leave us alone in the big events of life. God provides friends in the faith, fellow travelers, spiritual directors, counselors. Some of us have favorite aunts or uncles. I have been grateful for my sister who connects with my youngest daughter in a really helpful way. So Mary has Elizabeth and Elizabeth has Mary too. They have each other.

And third, the angel offers a final assurance: “I know this is a big deal, but remember Mary, nothing will be impossible with God.” We need to hear that sometimes. After all the questions and the doubts and conversations we just need to hear that God has got this. Whatever is happening in our world, whatever disease plagues us, whatever political upheaval we endure, it may not seem like it, but nothing is impossible with God.”

We are not left hanging when God comes calling. We are offered explanation, directed toward others who we can talk with, and we are assured that God can do this.

And finally then there comes acceptance. Agreement, acquiescence, surrender to God who comes calling. The agreement and conformity of our will with the divine will. And of course this is one of Mary’s finest moments. And it can be our finest moment as well, the moment of true freedom – when we stop resisting God’s will as it comes in the form of disruption or pain and suffering and sorrow, and we move toward acceptance. When we who are so willful finally become willing to accept God’s mysterious ways. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Now we are not so sure we like words like surrender and acquiescence. But it is a critical moment in the life of faith, to surrender to the higher power of God. And perhaps it helps to know that this surrender to God is not resignation. Acceptance is not a giving up, or giving in. It is a giving to God and God’s purposes, an offering of ourselves to God for something greater. In our Old Testament text, God told David to cease his own building project for the sake of God’s bigger building project: “Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me, your throne shall be established forever.” And God called upon Mary for a big task and disruptive task, and when she finally accepted she surrendered to the grand purposes of God for the redemption of the world – she would bear the Son of God, in the line of David, who would reign forever – of his kingdom there would indeed be no end.

God intervenes, comes calling in our lives for some greater purpose. Greater than we could ever imagine, if we will accept it. C.S. Lewis has a wonderful little parable in his book Mere Christianity. He says, “Imagine yourself a house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.

But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but he is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself.”

The disruption of God’s call upon our lives is sometimes painful, like our spiritual house being knocked about and we wonder what on earth is God up to? God is indeed up to something - something wonderful for the world and for you and me.

John 1:6-8, 19-28, December 13, 2020, Sermon

“Who Is He? Who Are We?” 

Pastor Randy Butler 

When I was a high school freshman I tried out for the basketball team. I practiced, worked out, and when the week came to try out, the coach had us shooting baskets to see if we could hit the broadside of a barn, playing short games to see our moves, and running wind sprints up and down the court to see what kind of shape we were in. All the time he was whittling away at the group who had tried out. I made it through the first day, but I started having a bad feeling by the second and third days, and sure enough on the last day of tryouts my name wasn’t on the list posted outside the gym, of those who had made the team. I realized pretty soon in my high school career that I wasn’t going to be a star athlete.

In my junior year I took a class in public speaking. It was an elective, and I had to fill a spot on my schedule so public speaking it was. I was by nature in those days sort of shy and reserved but when I stood up in front of the class to speak I felt pretty comfortable. I was mostly relaxed and I discovered that if I’d thought about what I was going to say and wrote it down, I was pretty good at delivering the message from up front. I could do it. Like many people in those high school years, I was beginning to discover what were my strengths and weaknesses, my abilities and my “non-abilities.” I was beginning to discover who I was and who I was not.

John Calvin, one of our important Presbyterian ancestors in the faith once wrote that, “Our wisdom, in so far as it ought to be deemed true and solid Wisdom, consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.” John the Baptist was considering this sort of wisdom as he grappled with his role, who and what he was; who and what he was not, in the unfolding of a new revelation of God in first century Palestine. The gospel of John, perhaps reflecting some misunderstandings, even tension or rivalries in the first century church wants to make very clear what the Baptist’s role was. He says that the life that had come into being through the Word of God in Jesus was the light of all people, and that no darkness could extinguish that light. John then, was sent by God to testify to the light. The gospel says that he himself was not the light but repeating, that he came to testify to the light.

OK, clear enough. But something in me wants to come to John’s aid here. I want to say, “But John, you have the light of God within you,” as do we all. Jesus says, “You/we are the light of the world.” “Let your light shine before others,” he says. In fact, a little further on in the gospel Jesus says about John, “He was a burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light.” The letter to the Ephesians says, “In the Lord, you are light.” For good reason we focus the light on Jesus. But in doing that we sometimes forget that we too are bearers of his light. We are lit up and more powerful than we sometimes think. So we strive for a balance as we consider who we are as humans beings created in the image of God, with God’s very breath in us. We remember indeed that we who are the light of the world are also the salt of the earth. But don’t forget that by the presence of God’s Spirit within us there is enough light to make us shine like the sun.

John then has enough light shining about him that the religious authorities want to come check him out. The truth squad, as Dale Bruner puts, shows up anytime there is someone making religious claims that threaten their own position. Here John is baptizing people in the Jordan not far from Jerusalem. Where does he get this authority? Who does he think he is? The truth squad intends to find out. “Who are you?” they ask plainly. And John says “Well I am not the Messiah. I can tell you that much.” John who was not the light but was sent to testify to the light, knows pretty well who he is not. He is not the Messiah, not Elijah, not a prophet.

It is always helpful to recognize who or what we are not, as well as who or what we are. Dale Bruner says, “Knowing who we are not, ironically, helps us know who we are.” And John knows he is not the Messiah. We say, “Well that is easy enough for me, I know I am not a Messiah. Sounds pretty straightforward.” Except we still tend to act like we are messiahs or saviors of one kind or another in our daily life. Some of us think we can save our community, some think that we can save our business or our church. Lots of us think we can save our families, that we can save a loved one who is sick or addicted or simply going down the wrong path. We think it is up to us to set the person straight, to save her or him. Until we finally realize that we cannot do it on our own; that we need to put off our Superman cape, that we are not saviors and messiahs.

Often it takes failure or suffering or pain to get there. Like the first few of Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous tell us, “until we admit that we are powerless and our lives have become unmanageable; that we come to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity and we turn our will and our lives over to the care of God.” If you struggle with this kind of messiah complex then maybe this text is for you. This is your verse. John 1:20 – “I am not the Messiah.” Some of us need to commit that verse to memory.

So John knows who he is not. But who then is he? Pressed by the religious authorities he says, “OK I will tell you who I am: I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.” He is not the Messiah but he is a voice preparing the way for the Messiah, making the way straight for the Messiah. Making the way straight means to clear away the clutter and curves so that God has a clear shot at our hearts. That means that we are straight with God, honest with God about our lives – our failures, our successes, who we are and who we are not, allowing God to have a clear and straight way into our lives. It also means that as we are voices in the wilderness of our own communities and culture, that we tell it straight, tell the story of Jesus with honesty and humility.

I am more convinced than ever that people need God, are searching for God, much of the time without even knowing it. I believe that St. Augustine’s words from the fifth century apply more than ever. “You have made us for yourself and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” The restlessness of our time is evident. So I try to point to Jesus to answer the questions. Here is what I try to say when someone asks about knowing God through Jesus: “I don’t have all the answers to what you are asking. But over the centuries many good and thoughtful and kind and generous people have believed and followed Jesus. I think they are on to something. God is indeed a great mystery. And the world’s religions certainly have a great deal to teach us. I have found Jesus in the New Testament to be a good guide in these things. You really can’t go wrong with him. I can’t unlock the mysteries of the universe, but I can point to the one who I believe has the key.

There is a famous painting of John the Baptist by German Renaissance painter Matthias Grunewald. It shows John in a ragged robe, holding the scriptures, a lamb at his feet. Words in the background read, “He must increase and I must decrease,” John’s very words from the gospel of John. But the most moving thing about the painting is John’s right arm raised, cocked like this, his hand and one very thin long finger pointing looking somewhere off the canvas to Jesus.

Like John the Baptist our role is not to save the world but to point to the one who can and does. Understanding who we are and who Jesus is we prepare the way for God to enter our lives and the lives of our loved ones, friends, coworkers and our world. Amen.

Mark 1:1-8, December 6, 2020, Sermon

“Preparing For Christmas” 

Pastor Randy Butler

While I was at home last week, on the day after Thanksgiving we put up the Christmas tree. My part is get the tree out, an artificial tree, and then to put on the tree lights, make sure they work and place them so that they cover the tree consistently. Then Anne and our daughters can put on the ornaments. I don’t know that we are going to get around to putting lights on the house this year. But that is okay, we are getting ready for Christmas. And already it feels good to have the tree up. It warmed our hearts in this difficult year to see the tree lit up like that in the corner of the family room.

We are all preparing for Christmas, getting our hearts ready for the birth of Christ in our world, in our homes and our hearts. And that is exactly what John the Baptist is doing in our text this morning. His job is to prepare us for the coming of Christ. The Gospel of Mark says, quoting from the prophets, “See I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”

Now after a year like this one I want to stop right here and simply marvel with you at this divine voice speaking not just in the past, but to us and our situation, in the midst of this wilderness of a year. And it has indeed been a kind of wilderness experience, a desert experience, stuck in our homes, limited by who we can see, where we can go; worried about contracting COVID, or spreading it among our loved ones and friends. It has been a sparse, arid wilderness kind of a year, and it continues. But Mark is introducing us to the good news about Jesus Christ – that’s what he calls it, and that good news starts with a voice crying in the wilderness of first century Judea, just like that voice spoke in precious centuries in the time of Isaiah, and the same voice of hope crying in our wilderness today.

God is not silent, God is still speaking. “God is still speaking,” that’s the motto of the United Church of Christ in recent years. It’s a great reminder – that God is not finished speaking, that God continues to speak in our time with fresh meaning and relevance, addressing not just the past, but our issues, our lives, our world, right here in 2020 on the verge of 2021 in the middle of a pandemic. “The mouth of the Lord has spoken,” says Isaiah. To the exiles of Israel in Babylon Isaiah says, “Here is your God, here God comes.” And to us - God is still alive, active and speaking to us. So don’t give up friends. There is a cry of hope in our wilderness: get ready for the Lord.

So we read that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness speaking, making proclamations to get us ready for Christ. And first Mark says that he was proclaiming a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins. Repentance is simply the act of changing our minds, altering our understanding of things. I say simply that but it isn’t really simple at all. We don’t really like to change our minds. But one of the first things that happens for us to prepare for Christ is that we change – our minds and our actions, and that we acknowledge our failures, our regrets, our mistakes, our sins. This clears the way and gets us ready. That is what Isaiah and John are doing. “…make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The uneven ground shall become level and the rough places a plain.” God is bringing the heavy earth moving equipment to clear the way and level the ground for the coming of Christ. And that is something like what needs to happen in our hearts and lives. Repentance and forgiveness remove the stones of sin, the mountains of sadness and grief, the obstacles of anger and resentment that block the way and prevent Christ from reaching our lives and hearts.

Here is another way of thinking about it. Do you know the winter sport of Curling? I find it kind of fascinating, you often see it during the Winter Olympics. In Curling one person slowly launches a large polished granite stone down the ice towards a target, about thirty feet away. Teammates walk along side of the stone with modified brooms sweeping the way clear of any obstruction or unnecessary ice. And sometimes they sweep really quickly as a way to reduce friction so the stone reaches the target. The preparation of Christmas, the preparation that John is talking about has to do with sweeping the way clear and reducing the friction between our lives and God’s life, paving the way for God to strike the target of our hearts with love and grace.

Repentance for forgiveness is the way the journey begins and we practice repentance and forgiveness along the journey as well. Because it is a journey, a way, a path. Three times in our text we are reminded of this: “…my messenger who will prepare your way.” The voice crying out, prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. The Christ life is a path, a way. We are on the way, we are not stuck. Consider this for a minute. When the Israelites were in Egypt they were stuck in bondage. But when they set out into the wilderness they were moving. They were indeed in the wilderness. It was not easy. They complained a lot and it was long trip. But they were moving. They weren’t captive anymore. They had not yet reached their destination but they were moving that direction. They were on the go, God was moving in them and with them.

Many centuries later when the people of Judah found themselves in Babylonian exile they were stuck again. Exile is a kind of static situation. But when Isaiah invited them into the wilderness journey they began to move. They had to travel across wilderness but they were moving, they hadn’t arrived yet at their destination in Jerusalem but they were heading that direction. They were walking through the valley of the shadow of death, this wilderness, but they were walking. Someone once said the best thing to do in the valley of shadow of death is keep walking.

And that is what we do. This pandemic will pass, this interim time in our church will pass, this difficult time in our nation will pass. We will simply stay on the path, stay the course and just keep going on the journey of faith. It is a kind of wilderness but we will make it through to the other side. Life with Christ is always a path, a way and a journey, always in motion, always changing because we are walking through the wilderness. We have left captivity and we have not yet reached our destination, but we are on the way. Progress, not perfection, say those in twelve-step programs. We are on the way, a work in progress.

John the Baptist proclaims a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins, and he proclaims someone beyond himself: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I’m not even fit to tie his shoes. I am baptizing you with water but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. So though we are on a journey we have a very clear goal and direction. We are not left wandering in the wilderness. John is pointing to Jesus as the focus and goal of our journey. We are traveling toward Jesus. He is the focus of Mark’s good news. A fifth century Christian wrote, “To see Thee is the end and the beginning, Thou carriest us, and Thou dost go before, Thou art the journey, and the journey’s end.”

As we move through Advent we are traveling towards Jesus. The shepherds in the Christmas story are traveling toward Jesus in Bethlehem. The magi are traveling toward Jesus in Bethlehem. He is their goal, our goal, our focus. We gather around him at our center when we worship, when we hold meetings, when we do anything as the church. Where two or three of us is gathered there he is in our midst. He is indeed the journey and the journey’s end. Let’s keep walking together.

Mark 13:24-37, November 29th, 2020, Sermon

“In the Depth of the Darkness a Candle Glows” 

Mark Ferns 

Prayer: May the mediation of my heart and the words of my voice be acceptable to You O Lord this day.

We gather this morning to observe the First Sunday in Advent by lighting a candle. The first candle is sometimes called the Candle of Hope. It is also called the ‘Prophecy Candle”.

The Candle of Hope is an appropriate name for that first light of the Advent season. It is not by accident that we begin the Advent season in the winter months as the hours of darkness grow. This winter is the season that tries our souls. Today we come to gather together in what seems to be an ever deepening dreary gloom. Sunlight diminishes while the darkness lengthens. Our political system is wracked by uncertainties. A fearful illness has taken control of our society, wreaking economic chaos and challenging our medical community, threatening to divide us even further, leading us to huddle in isolated, small groups.

In the darkness this morning a single candle is lit. The same candle has been lit in congregations around the world, joining a multitude of believers together. Here in this sanctuary today turn your eyes to the light of the candle of Hope. Let us look with clear eyes, see the candle as something New. Clear away the clouded mists of anxiety and see this candle as if for the very first time, the very first light that burns in defiance of the darkness.

In the Mark passage, Jesus makes a prophecy, tells of what is to come. “But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”

Clearly we must acknowledge that the fears and darkness are real. The world is an uncertain place. As a nation we have been stripped of our fantasies. Much to our dismay we find ourselves not in control of anything. The belief that we select our leaders has been shattered. Freedom from illnesses is but a mirage. Unending economic prosperity revealed as simply an illusion. We despair and are fearful of what is to come. We are forced to acknowledge that, as limited humans we by ourselves cannot create an earthly heaven.

What can we do then? Hear the next part of the Mark passage. “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. ”

Here Jesus speaks to us as a prophet, telling of things yet to come. This candle of Hope is also the prophecy candle. The Son of Man will return. Look not to the past but to the future.

For me, looking to the future and letting go of the past is much easier said than done. I have grown way too accustomed to a sense of entitlement. I am shocked by the reality of the growing darkness. I seek to find scapegoats. Point fingers and cry “It’s your fault! We don’t deserve this!” I deserve better.

Then I am again forced to acknowledge that I am not in charge. The words are: Thy Will not my will. I must look again to the Light of the candle of Hope. Imagine living in this world of today without that Light. In the dimness of 2020’s darkness I see the Light as if for the very first time. In the face of a growing darkness here today we dare to light the candle of Hope.

That candle of Hope is also the candle of prophecy. Today’s passage in Mark ends with Jesus’s words: “Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

So what do we do as we are waiting? Huddle in a corner and drown ourselves in self-pity? By all means, No! We are to share the light of the candle of Hope. Pull it out from under the basket and take the light out into the world. Reach out to those in fear and share the Good News. Let all know that through Jesus hope has come into the world.

Let the act of lighting the candle bring forth a light within our hearts. We can then carry the light of hope within us as we go back into the darkening world. How is the light manifested within us? Most simply it shows through in the two greatest commandments. “Love thy God with all your heart and with all your soul and all your mind and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

I must confess that for me, in this season of darkness that is a lot easier said than done. The words of Isaiah really speak to me: “There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.” That is where I find myself today, fearful of the dark, in danger of feeling abandoned.

It is then that I turn and look to the light of prophecy. Time to accept the promise that Jesus freely give us. The Hope of the World is with me. He will come again. The world will be healed.

Today is the time to be reassured. Know that in lighting this candle, this day the Kingdom of God is come near. Remember Jesus’ word at the end of the gospel of Matthew. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded. I am with you always, until the end of the age.”