December 25, 2016 Luke 2:1-14 (15-20)

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.  All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph 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. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 

While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And 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.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, 

“Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 

 “Glory to God in the highest heaven, 

          and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

***

On Christmas Eve, in years past, I had worn heathered red, celebratory like snow on holly. Other years, formal black, long sleeved, t-length and turtleneck, as if the birth of Christ translated into a black-tie affair. There was too, my grandmother’s wool Pendleton shift, which made my mom look up and smile, as if three generations were present, as if our New York and Texas lineage came full circle, to Eastern Oregon and it’s Woolen Mills, in the censes of a seventy-year-old dress returned to its homeland. Yet, last Christmas, getting ready alone at the parsonage, I put on purple silk, the color of waiting, it was still Advent in my heart. 

Dutifully, as if getting ready for a date, I did my hair and makeup, with the sinking feeling I would be stood up. Still, I imagined they would be there. That I would walk into the warm, sepia-ed sanctuary, and there my family would sit: My dad, ever-professorial, in his corduroy slacks and elbow-patched-suit-coat, his thin-framed glasses at the crook of his nose. My mom in black pants, a rich-red sweater and heirloom earnings - the oft plain-little-librarian - giddy for the occasion - the pride of her daughter preaching Christmas Eve. And finally, my sister beside them, beautiful and shy, always wearing something exquisite, original, yet understated, be it tactile fabric, a well placed sparkle, or a cascading braid flowing down decadent hair, a balance of being perfectly executed without drawing attention, but for the glimpse of a hesitant smile giving her away. All three of them, ever recognizable, ever predictable, as family is. I prayed maybe they would be there, as they had always been. For wasn’t that the way every Christmas story ever ended, the wreathed front door opens, and with suitcase in hand and snow on jacket, the belated beloved enters and shaking off boots - calls out - and there is warmth, there is family, there is rejoicing on Christmas Eve.

I drove the quiet streets to church, my eyes brimming tears mirrored by brooding low grey snow clouds - both full and waiting for release. 

Once in the Pastor’s Study, I pulled off my black suede party heels and opening the closet, exchanged them, sliding on well worn working flats. I hooked the zipper of my long black robe, and, like a pall, covered my purple dress with the garment of my calling. Finally, reaching for a stole, to round my neck, I marked the liturgical change from Advent’s waiting-purple, to Christmas’ celebratory-white. This vestment, clergy’s only adorning, and with it’s singular ceremony, I placed the white stole over my head, a ritual anointing - ‘You child, will bring Christmas to the people, even if it is still Advent in your heart.’ I sighed too deep for words, yet as reverently as an intercessory prayer.

The sanctuary was full, and bright, and warm, with people’s relatives and neighbors crowded together, adults in black and gold, flannel and velvet, little girls in green Christmas dresses with stain sashes and little boys in red button-downs all tucked in - as familiar as a uniform, as predictable as family. I quickly scanned for what I already knew. They were not there. They were not going to be there. This was my first Christmas alone, and still, sigh, I was called to bear a message of good news and great joy. 

My closest friends knew. There in the pew had come Mary Stevenson and her three teenagers, standing in for my family. Likewise, it was they to whom my eyes traveled during the first congregational hymn, O Little Town of Bethlehem. In that brief moment, when the song of the congregation upheld the liturgy, I let go enough to meet Mary’s daughter’s gaze. From halfway back in the pews, she knew me well enough to see through the veil of my station, to my emotion’s reflection in the lyrics,“The hopes and fears of all the years, are met in thee tonight.” And with that nakedness, a single tear crested. Looking away, from her, and the chorus, I fragilely wiped its wet flake away. I could not forever hold back my grey clouds; and outside snow began to dust. Upon leaving, Mary’s son, who had been less than excited for worship, told his mom, “I didn’t know why we were going, now I know why we went.” It wasn’t for the message, nor for the carols, or the candlelight, but, “we went for Katy,” he said. 

I held out through the shaking of hands and watched the sanctuary quickly empty out into the now snowy, snowy night. Where headlights in the white speckled darkness led families home, to be with one another, and I too would later go to be with a friend’s family, to read to her kids in my biggest accent, “The Texas Night Before Christmas,” and they would greet me the next morning, Alex, in his squeaky voice, “Merry Christmas, Katy!” It, and wrapping paper swords, would warm my heart for distracted moments, but that Christmas was still an Advent to get through, snow through which to trudge. I had wanted something to come, in the snow, in the singing, in the candles, in the children, but instead, I lived out in the fields and watched my flock by night.

I was their shepherd, and this was my wilderness, of sanctuary fold, chancel hill and pulpit lookout. I was their shepherd, called to count them, each one, to find their familiar and foreign faces amid the pews, and call them by name. I was their shepherd leading them to green pastures and still waters on whose moonlight was reflected in countless silent nights, holy nights, where all was calm, all was bright. I was their shepherd, preparing a living offering and an alter, on which to lay down our praise in Gloria, Gloria, in excelsis deos. I was their shepherd and what a grand calling, to be out in the field, caring for such wonders as these, who yearly fill the pews in woolen splendor, all of us grazing under the stars of royal beauty bright. It was a grand calling, to be amongst such as these, good and tender sheep. But, though surrounded by their softest blankets there was still a chill in being so invisibly alone. Such it was, when all the world went to be registered, I and my fellow shepherds, remained uncounted.

I turned off the narthex lights, locked the heavy wooden doors, and through the darkness climbed the stairs to the Pastor’s Study, to doff my black robe, and shed my adorning white stole like a flower upon the grave, as I too now knew what so many I counseled had already, what was to be alone, on Christmas. Though no one else was inside the building, I reached behind me and closed the study door, and in that final solitude, when the fever of Christmas was over, and the busy world was hushed, and my work was done, - sigh- I breathed my last. My body hunched as if shoveling snow, my tears too wet to lift, and outside my study window winter’s white quickened to a blur. 

Then, suddenly, something loud crashed against the glass. -SCREAM- My shepherd’s instinct rifled out its reactions, "What was that, who’s out there, are the side doors locked, I am alone,” and not without sarcasm, “of course I am alone.” Accustomed to drama in the darkness, I froze in the sound’s startled silence, a Shepherd listening acutely for anything that would move. 

PAUSE 

What I heard, was laughing, which, after a moment, I realized was familiar, as was the ball of snow sliding down my window. I scoffed, sarcasm turned in, smile turned up. A snowball.

Still disoriented, but aware enough to be embarrassed, I walked to the window. Peering out, the snow seemed to cease and through cloven skies I saw an angel of the Lord. My best friend Lizzy stood before me, bundled up, with knit hat and warm jacket framing pink cheeks, cheeks whose smile said, “Do not be afraid, for I am bringing you good news of great joy.”

She and her family, out for a winter’s walk, had seen my lamp still burning far off in the felid, “Why is Katy there so late on Christmas Eve?” Why have not the shepherds come into town? And so over pastures of powder they came to the place I was. Those common heavenly hosts, came to the darkened church, to the silence after the carols were over, and to the solitude of being alone in the wilderness of my work, and to that place, they brought Christmas. 

And isn’t this how every Christmas story ever ends, how the first Christmas story ended, and maybe, how your Christmas story ends. That after we have lost all hope and gone to bed, counted our sheep and locked the sanctuary doors, then in quiet of the night, when loneliness is at its greatest, and we have settled in under the covers of our heartbreaks, the empty spaces left by loved ones now gone, the memories of the places we'd rather be called home, or those we’d wish had come called family or friends, or the field where the work calls us on Christmas Eve, to these places, where we are, to these shepherds who we are, to all people, Christmas has come. May we be startled, by the sound, of an opening door, Glorias of angels in the sky, and the crash of a snowball against the window.

Stepping back, I looked at the snowball, and in it’s opaque clump and melting silage, I recognized the transformation of my own tears - that water, which I released in sorrow had been returned in joy. It was as if Lizzy packed the flakes of my sobbing, all tight in a frozen ball, and with the glories of the skies, reminded me that this is a night for all people, for you my sheep, but also for me too. 

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to all people.”

December 4, 2016 Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 

This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, 

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 

‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” 

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist,

 and his food was locusts and wild honey. 

Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, 

and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 

But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, 

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 

Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume 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. 

“I baptize you with water for repentance, 

but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; 

I am not worthy to carry his sandals. 

He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 

His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; 

but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 

***

I like to imagine this scripture, and as crazy as it is, with John the Baptist, out in the wilderness, dressed in camel’s hair, eating locusts and wild honey, baptizing some and reprimanding others, “you brood of vipers,” its not the wildness that interests me most, but the intimacy of the touch of baptism between two opposing sides.

It is hard for me to imagine John and the Pharisees and Sadducees coming together like that. John first yelling at the them, “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” It’s a legitimate question. Is this powerful ruling class of people there merely to take stake of the land and the Jordan River running through it and observe its erratic occupant John hiding their bets on his understand of God verse their own. Or have they come to experience his message for themselves and be transformed? The text doesn’t say, but we can tell that the sides were drawn long before this stand off. The Pharisees and Sadducees and John the Baptist each come with a history that precedes them. The Pharisees and Sadducees are known for abusing power in law and in the church for generations and John the Baptist, is known for disrupting that power from the prophesy of his birth, which recalled, 

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 

‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” 

Each side is known John and the Pharisees and Sadducees, and it is with this historic understanding that they come to the river Jordan. 

I imagine it like the protests at Standing Rock. In these too a history known. The Native Americans whose Thanksgiving holiday is marked with the memory of a people who turned against them. Native Americans whose generosity at that first meal, was meet with greed which later became Manifest Destiny. Native Americans who once knew a country without boarders and called it their home, with sacred sites and hunting grounds and water unbound, and the circle of life in balance, now come to the borders of their small Standing Rock Reservation, where they have been exiled in their own country, as treaty after treaty was broken because a signature meant their word. 

Specifically, “the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe is a successor to the Great Sioux Nation, a party to the two Treaties of Fort Laramie in 1851 and 1868 which promised the land to the tribe forever. The reservation established in the 1851 Treaty of Fort Laramie included extensive lands that would be crossed by the proposed pipeline. The Tribe has a strong historical and cultural connection to such land. Despite the promises made in the two Fort Laramie treaties, in 1877 and again in 1889, Congress betrayed the treaty parties by passing statutes that took major portions of this land away from the Sioux. In the modern area, the Tribe suffered yet another loss of lands, this time in connection with the same Oahe dam and Reservoir created without the tribe’s consent. 

Since July, “the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe (“Tribe”) has brought forth it’s official complaint to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in connection with federal actions relating to the Dakota Access Pipeline (“DAPL”), a 1,168-mile-long crude oil pipeline running from North Dakota to Illinois. One violating 1889’s Clean Water Act (“CWA”) and Rivers and Harbors Act (“RHA”) as DAPL crosses hundreds if not thousands of federally regulated rivers, streams, and wetlands along its route. One such authorization allows DAPL to construct the pipeline underneath Lake Oahe, approximately half a mile upstream of the Tribe’s reservation. Others authorize the DAPL to discharge into waters of the United States at multiple locations in the Tribe’s ancestral lands.

Likewise, the Tribe seeks to uphold the National Historic Preservation Act (“NHPA”) which requires that, prior to issuance of a federal permit or license, federal agencies shall take into consideration the effects of that “undertaking” on historic properties and ensure that the tribe is notified and is given time to object and for the issue to be resolved.” By law, “Until this process is complete, the action in question cannot go forward.”

All action was supposed to come to a halt, but instead we have two armies battling in North Dakota. It began as bulldozers and peaceful prayerful protesters and has escalated to rubber bullets, fire hoses pushing protesters back in freezing temps, with dogs unleashed on the Native Americans by military and mercenary police. But if that doesn’t seem unjust, if the Native Americans isn’t the side with which you side, what strikes me most is that the little white and more wealthy town of Bismark, beside the reservation, which was on the pipeline’s original course, also protested about the pipeline and the route was changed because of a potential threat to Bismarck’s water supply. 

If the we lay the scripture over the newspaper, our Pharisees and Sadducees come from Bismark, and places like it, they are not it’s common people, but it’s authorities, it’s ones in control of the law and the land, and they have come out to the wilderness, to the water, to the river, to the reservation, to the boarder, to those in exile, to see what the fuss is over, what might usurp their power by putting peace before progress. They are standing at the line. And John yells, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” 

But if you notice, while condemning them, John also welcomes them. He includes them by saying they are fleeing, rather than standing their ground. It is as if the Standing Rock Souix have said the pilgrims once again, “I see you are fleeing, what has brought you here.” It’s a different trajectory, a Christian one of welcome, of inviting in, of sharing a cornucopia of resources.  And the authorities have a choice, they can join or stand against. 

John continues, “Do not presume 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.”” John knows, that the history of power is on their side and for generations the authorities, the Pharisees and Sadducees have deemed God is on their side because of it. But John reminds them from whom power comes, it comes from God, which is not won or earned, it is grace. Grace God has given to all, and Grace John extends to them. 

And something must have happened, because, we hear John say, “I baptize you with water for repentance.” I don’t know how Pharisees and Sadducees got to that place in John’s arm’s in the Jordan. I don’t if all at once they all got in, and the entered the stream, or if one by one they defected and joined the other side, walking toward John and his followers. But somehow, theses opposing sides, of oppressor and oppressed, are now upside down, the oppressed holding the oppressor, John holding the Pharisees and Sadducees, the Native Americans holding the authorities, and dipping them in the water, baptizing them proclaiming repentance. That in that water freezing fire hoses have turned into living streams of life. This water which was in contention is now the connection. 

John says, “one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; 

I am not worthy to carry his sandals. 

He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor

 and will gather his wheat into the granary; 

but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

And I think if water and John the Baptist can do this, what might Jesus and the Holy Spirit do with fire. Might it look like a land without borders, where sacred and historic sites are revered, and we find ourselves a country not of the pilgrim’s progress, but of the First People’s welcome, a welcome grander than John the Baptist, a welcome so humbling that we are not worthy to carry it’s moccasins.  

November 27, 2016 Matthew 24:36-44

“But about that day and hour no one knows, 

neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 

For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 

For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, 

marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 

and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, 

so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. 

Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. 

Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. 

Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 

But understand this: 

if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, 

he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 

Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

****

What if Christ’s return is more like Christmas morning? Not of judgement but of Grace, prepare likewise.

You know the image, it is one people travel hundreds of miles to see. Children on Christmas morning. The Norman Rockwell of footed pjs, tip-toeing down the stairs, and wide eyes at a tree, which overnight became full, as if by magic. You know the image; you know its magic. And I wonder if perhaps, you could imagine this scripture of judgement the same. It says,

“But about that day and hour no one knows, 

neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”

Imagine angels in heaven, like a Santa Tracker on the news, which follows the setting night, and attempts to predict where in that darkness, not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse, or shepherds in the fields watching their flock by night, and to that place, that darkness, they will testify that the light has come. Yet, not even Norad, with its scientific measures can exactly predict, in each little house, at what moment Christmas will come, because about that day and hour no one knows. The scripture says,

“For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, 

marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 

and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, 

so too will be the coming of the Son of Man.”

As culture subscribes, we too have already begun our eating and drinking, and merry making, ignoring predictions of the flood which is to sweep us away. We are easily distracted by ads, and lights, and to-do lists a mile long, and it is to those places too will come the Son of Man. But what if instead of the fear of a naughty and nice list Emmanuel, we hung our stockings by the chimney with care, in hopes that a Saint soon will be there; in hopes that what we have come to prepare, is the ark of long ago, is the a manger of yesterday, is an Inn filled with care for today. What if the flood to which we shall prepare is a flood Christmas morning.

You know the image:

“The children were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,  Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window, I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.”

Or as scripture says

“Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. 

Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. 

Keep awake therefore, Kerchief and cap, 

for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.”

As lovely and as loathsome are as these two Night Before Christmas scenes, what if they actually resemble one another? What if what is about to break in when two are out the field, and two are grinding meal together, is as, “peaceful as the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow?” What if the star over the manger, “gave a lustre of midday to objects below?” What if, the scripture’s, “One will be taken and one will be left,” is not a destination for who gets coal in their stockings, and whose boots by the fire are filled with good things? What if instead, “one will be taken and one will be left,” wasn’t admonishment at all but instead an invitation.

I remember as a kid, the unspoken rule that, you don’t go down the stairs alone to Christmas morning. If you have sibling, you cross the hallway, and open their darkened door, and you creep to their bed and whisper, “It is Christmas. We slept through the magic. Let us go see this thing which has taken place,” You don’t go to the tree alone. You want to share in the wonder if it has come, you want not to be alone in the grief if it didn’t. Likewise, Jospeh went with Mary, the shepherd girls, said to one another, “Let us go and see this thing which has taken place,” and the wisemen went as three. So too, we will not be alone when it comes, we can extend an invitation. 

This scripture is a reminder to share in the joy, not through conversion, or impending judgement but by sharing in grace, in gift. You who know to prepare, welcome the other along, travel into Bethlehem together, open your house to a pregnant stranger and her partner, sidestep King Herod’s plan with the wisdom you posses. The scripture reminds us,

“But understand this: 

if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, 

he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 

Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

Do you remember staying up as late as you could on Christmas Eve as a kid. So too, may your excitement prepare you for this thief in the night. Who shall come, unexpectedly, and you will say, “to my wondering eyes did appear,” but Christmas morning in the form of a child. Come likewise, prepare your hearts to come down the stairs and find the gift of him, the Emmanuel, there. 

November 20, 2016 Luke 1:68-79

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for God has looked favorably on God’s people and redeemed them.
God has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of God’s servant David,
as God spoke through the mouth of God’s holy prophets from of old,
that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
Thus God has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered God’s holy covenant,
the oath that God swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us that we,
being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve God without fear,
in holiness and righteousness before God all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare God’s ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to God’s people by the forgiveness of their sins.
By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

****
What would you have to say, if you couldn’t speak for nine months? What would be the first thing you would say? and who would you tell?

I have always loved those last-minute-on-earth kinds of questions; they get to the heart of who we are. My friend Lisa once asked, “If the world was to end in five minutes and you could call one person, who would it be, and what would you say, and why are you not doing it now?” “If the world was to end in five minutes and you could call one person, who would it be, and what would you say, and why are you not doing it now?”

As lofty as the question is, in it's who and what, the question’s practical counterpart of why aren’t you doing it now, is equally important. That, why you aren’t doing it, calling that person now, that what’s stopping you, is just as big of a question as the who you would call and what you would say.

I would call my sister, and tell her I love her. I don’t do it enough and I want to. I don’t do enough because I get busy and I assume she knows. But assuming she knows isn’t at all like her hearing it.

This scripture is one of those phone calls, but it came after nine months of silence. The story began after years of Zachariah and Elizabeth praying for a child, and finally becoming pregnant with John who would later become John the Baptist. An angel Gabriel came to tell Zachariah the news, and he did not believe Gabriel, and therefore was mute for nine months. During this time, Mary who was pregnant with Jesus came to visit Elizabeth who was Mary’s Aunt. After John’s birth, Zachariah and Elizabeth are taking the infant to the temple for the birth ritual, and Zachariah is finally able to speak again and this scripture are his first words.

After nine months, the first thing he utters is praise to God.

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,”

I wonder, if we were silent for nine months, would this be the first thing we say? I have no idea.

The second thing he says, is both praise and prophesy, prophesy about Jesus from Zachariah’s own words, and also prophesy referencing the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel. Zachariah says,

“for God has looked favorably on God’s people and redeemed them.
God has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of God’s servant David,
as God spoke through the mouth of God’s holy prophets from of old,
that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.”

The third thing Zachariah talks about is how God has kept God’s promise.

“Thus God has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered God’s holy covenant,
the oath that God swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve God without fear,
in holiness and righteousness before God all our days.”

After nine months, the response to God keeping God’s word is to serve God. And then Zachariah looks at John and says,

“And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare God’s ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to God’s people by the forgiveness of their sins.”

Zachariah’s son John the Baptist will prepare Jesus’s way, baptizing the people, and Jesus himself. Then Zachariah says,

“By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

In this last verse is a two fold promise, both that Jesus will be born and his light will shine in the darkness, and in the shadow of death, and secondly, that light will beam down like when the heaven’s opened when Jesus was baptized and down came a dove, a symbol of peace, and God said, this is my child with whom I am well pleased.

All this, had been waiting, pregnant in Zachariah’s mouth for nine months. I imagine the words slowly coming and changing and eventually refining into this run-on-sentence of praise and prophesy, and I wonder, if we too were silent for nine months, what words and feelings would gestate in our mouths, and what would we come out saying?

I don't know because I haven’t tried it. I am your pastor, and Zachariah was a priest, and even as religious leaders, I have never taken a couple weeks much less a month, or nine, just to be with God. It is too easy to ignore the calling to be silent before God. To be too busy, to take five minutes - to call my sister; or as congregants, as Christians, to be too busy, to call that one person, and if I had to guess, your words too would be some version of I love you.

But this I love you to Diana, my sister, is if I had five minutes. Imagine nine months, imagine a pregnancy of silence with God. This is what is coming. Advent is coming. It starts next Sunday, as we wait for the birth of Christ. And notice that word, “wait.” Wait, wait, Advent, isn’t a count down, it is a time taking. We are given the time to be quiet, to reflect, to sit, to be in the world, to form our words. We have been given time.

We have been given time, we don’t have to do the things we feel pressured to, the Greening of the Church with the parade, the Cookie Swap, the Youth or Women’s Support Group Christmas Parties, the hanging of the Advent Windows, Angel Tree, the Children’s Program, even the Christmas Eve Service. If any one of these feel like something you have to do, don't do them, instead, do that which makes you feel pregnant with God.

We have been given time, we don’t have to do the things we feel pressured to, the Christmas cards, the decorating the house, the cooking and the baking, the shopping, the traveling, if any one of these feel like something you have to do, don't do them, instead, do that which makes you feel pregnant with God.

We have been given time, we don’t have to do the things we feel pressured to, the pain of sitting around a table and pretending all is well when it is not, the looking happy and singing Christmas Carols when its our first Christmas without a loved one. I imagine before this year in scripture, Zachariah and Elizabeth would have found the holidays hard as parents who desperately want kids. I would have told them too, if any one of these feel like something they had to do, don't do them, instead, do that which makes you feel pregnant with God.

And they became so, and so are we welcomed to become pregnant with God. Zachariah turns to infant John the Baptist and says, And you child, will be the prophet of the most high, and likewise, Zachariah turns to us and asks us to also be prophets of the most high. So how will our lives show this prophesy? In business, in distraction, or in the way we take the time to nurture the God within us.

Advent starts in a week, and this is our week to prepare, to clear our schedule, to assess where our hours, our energy, money, and our talents, are going, and to ask ourselves, is it going to make us feel pregnant with God, or farther away. Will our Advent Season, look like calling that person we love, or continuing to do the things which are keeping us from making that call. We have been given the time, You Child have been given the time. Amen.

November 13, 2016 Luke 21: 5-19

When some were speaking about the temple, 

how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, 

Jesus said, 

“As for these things that you see, 

the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; 

all will be thrown down.” 

They asked him,

“Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 

And Jesus said, 

“Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ 

and, ‘The time is near!’ 

Do not go after them. 

“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; 

for these things must take place first, 

but the end will not follow immediately.” 

Then Jesus said to them, 

“Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 

there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; 

and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 

“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; 

they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, 

and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 

This will give you an opportunity to testify. 

So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 

for I will give you words and a wisdom

that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 

You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; 

and they will put some of you to death. 

You will be hated by all because of my name. 

But not a hair of your head will perish. 

By your endurance you will gain your souls.

***

I called my dad Wednesday morning. At thirty-three it’s hard to know what comes next after historic events like this week’s election. Having studied American History and Foreign Policy, I tend to trust that my dad will be able to look back and predict into the future. “Kate,” he said, “This hasn’t happened before.” “The closest was Andrew Jackson, in 1828, but the country wasn't a tenth as divided as in this election. People didn’t like Andrew Jackson,” “Well he was horrible to the Indians,” I quipped. My dad continued, “No, he wasn't a very good person, and people in the cities were angry about the election, but Jackson pulled more rural votes from a white male electorate, but it’s not like this. This is so much more contentious. I don't know what happens from here.” 

I thought I would call my dad, and he would pull out some random election from fifty years ago, and essentially tell me that we as a country would come together again and everything would be fine. But he couldn’t tell me that. This was something he’d not seen nor studied. Likewise, my ninety-three year old, Grandpa, said this summer, “Well Pal, it hasn’t been this bad since Calvin Coolidge and this is worse.” He made a joke, but I don't like that one of the oldest as well as one of the most well-versed people I know, both were in new territory. And I too have been seeing things for the first time. 

Both before and after the election, it was easy to see how the media on both sides, bent the facts into opinion. I don't remember growing up that you could watch the news and tell for whom people were pulling. It made me nervous, and question if there were unbiased reports at all. And like a gross characterization of national political discourse the things that people posted on Facebook were egregious, not only for their insensitivity, to put it mildly, but also for the lack of any honest discourse, which can never, happen on Facebook. One is allowed to post their opinion, and to find camaraderie in that stance, but by the same token, it is not the way to change minds. What I believe is there is degree to which such stances, without conversation, have lead to the increasing polarity of our nation. We live in country like the signs of the scripture,

“Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 

there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; 

and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 

In the scripture’s context, the temple, the greatest building in the world and a symbol of power and might has been brought down because of Roman civil wars. Note that the gospel doesn’t say, because of one leader or another, but instead because of infighting. We too are living as citizens, nation against nation, kingdom against kingdom, the likes of which have never before happened in our history. I see two uprisings, one stirred up by president elect, Donald Trump, where citizens of rural and conservative America like embers caught flame again. And the other uprising, marked by protests in Portland, where more liberal voters were surprised at the complacency of their own constituency, and the change in wind’s direction. And then there are those, almost fifty percent, who were too disenfranchised, or disappointed or disgusted to vote at all. And so here we are, wondering who our neighbor is, a Trump supporter, Hillary, third party, or someone who didn't vote. Well, I will tell you, that what is more important than knowing whose side someone is on, is knowing that conflict itself can be measured by the percent of people you know who are for and against your own beliefs, the rise of conflict can be measured by own taking of sides. Therefore the opposite of escalating conflict is the ability to maintain conversation. It means that the more ardently we take sides, the less likely we are able to moderate. 

For myself, I will tell you, being a pastor in this time has stunk. It is a hard thing to be fervently opposed to something you consider unChristian, and not feel allowed to speak openly against it. It makes for a lonely and somewhat secretive-icky-feeling when I and other pastors have to weigh our words so carefully, have to remain silent when Jesus himself was if not anything else, a political prophet, during his life on earth. This stipulation means that when I break the silence, I feel a little more like Jesus the prophet, but when I abide to it, I recognize my call to Jesus of the parable, who gives us something to think about, something with which to wrestle. It is hard to decipher, which we are called to be at different times, a political prophet, or a teller of parables. But I think, being a pastor, and for that matter a Christian, makes us consider that to be a prophet is to be the teller of parables. That you don’t preach against people, you preach issues, you preach stories. It’s taught me that prophesy can come in things like protest, but what is the point when we have lost the ability to humanize our neighbor? Instead, if the point of protest is change, rather than simply camaraderie, I believe it is done more carefully through parables like the Good Samaritan, or the Woman who was about to be Stoned. 

This scripture too is a parable. It is a story where we can easily place ourselves, no matter for whom we voted, or didn’t, and in a nation never so far divided, it can seem the end of the world is upon us, “with dreadful portents, and great signs from heaven.” But as Christians, if we are able to imagine ourselves into this parable, we are also given an opportunity, an opportunity to testify in Jesus’ name.

But this testimony, I imagine looks a little different than the rhetoric to which we as a nation have succumbed.  It isn’t someone making a Facebook meme, with a politician’s face and some ill-chosen words, it isn’t a debate where interruption equates winning, it isn’t even gathering up like kindling, all the possible angles to enflame the other side. Instead it is to empty ourselves of all our defenses. 

Jesus says, 

“So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 

for I will give you words and a wisdom

that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.”

When we think about the type of dialogue which is hard to critique, withstand or contradict, it is the human dialogue. It is someone who comes just as they are, with the hope of having a conversation, not wanting to change your mind, but wanting to bridge, to let you know how they feel. They come humbly and personally and with love for the other paramountly. You know the difference in these types of conversations. This is how Jesus speaks, answering the question, “Who is my neighbor?” saying to the crowd, “You without sin, throw the first stone.” Through parables, the listeners are able to get beyond their sides, to find their common humanity, to find the divinity in coming together. 

Also on Wednesday, people of two opposing parties and myself unclaimed, happened to be in the church. I your pastor and another person were pretty raw, while a congregant was reasoned and calm. He walked in on us, “talking politics,” in the church, something that I don’t tend to do, but that being raw that morning, happened, more about issues than a person, but it happened. Not with debate, because I came with no defense, just my feelings, my wonders, my worries, and that other congregant, listened and with grace, stated he typically was on the other side, but he listened, heard and encouraged.  I remember thinking in the moment, here I am the pastor, who isn’t supposed to talk about politics, and this congregant is moderating, is caring, is being Jesus in this parable. It wasn't just the congregant, it is you as a church, it is who you are. I think, and have said before, that this is your greatest gift, your ability to think differently, to discuss hard and opposing issues and love one another in light of your differences. I think it is because you know each other’s humanity. You have courageously lifted personal prayers of the people which tell of the hearts of your lives, you have seen each other through deaths and births, hardship and success, failings and triumphs, and it is really hard when you love each other that much, and you know each other that well, to villainize someone who thinks differently than you, to come with all your defenses. You come instead with openness and love, and this in this time, gives me more hope than any political swing there could be. 

So I think our calling is to take who we are as church out into the world, and model to our nation, not to prepare our defense in advance, but to know that Jesus will give us words and wisdom that no one can contradict. Words and wisdom that see the humanity in one another.

For this we shall be blessed, The blessing reads,

 “But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.”

Perhaps, this endurance is what my dad, and my grandfather couldn’t recollect, what our nation’s history has not yet foretold. I told my dad at the end of our conversation, that this was the part where I think my calling that had more hope than his. I got to see a way above the polarity, into unity, and it was my job, and it is ours as Christians. We get to see another way and to receive the blessing of each soul thereunto.

October 30, 2016 Beatitudes Luke 6:17-31

 He came down with them and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. 18They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. 19And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them.

Then he looked up at his disciples and said: 

“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. 

“Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. 

“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. 

“Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. 

Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; 

for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets. 

“But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. 

“Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. 

“Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. 

“Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets. 

“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 

If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you. 

****

Its getting harder, these funerals. Each one means I know you a little better and love you more deeply, having counted more days with you and those who love you. I no longer have to ask as many questions to glean the essence of a congregant. Instead, I feel it, and you provide the details and memories of the years before I came. I have been here long enough to ask you for what you would like to be remembered, and I know who, with deep grieving, will have a quote that ties the service all together - because you were close as sisters. 

Knowing you this way makes your dying harder but I would want no other role than to tell your story and to lift it up to God. I like that being the pastor lets me do something. When providing care for loved ones after a death the best advice is just to listen, to ask questions, but really, to be present. But I get to do something. I get to channel my own grief into something beautiful, and then I get to cathartically express it, but it’s a balance, and the pendulum edges of sadness and duty are getting deeper, because it’s getting harder; I love you more. 

On the drive from home to Pat’s service, I was already teary, but shutting the car door, I moved from personal space to pastoral space with a calling to fulfill. Jim Kauth, as a preacher and a congregant, described the pendulum well, saying there was one moment where the corner of my mouth turned downward, a face he knew was the beginning of breaking, but with a breath and focus I pushed through with renewed fervor. He said he was proud of me, but more than anything I felt so known, and to feel known is to feel loved. That’s where we are in this little church, and it’s only been five years. 

So I am thankful I get do something when you pass away. I imagine you relate to the feeling of needing to do when you make and deliver more food than a person can eat, or check in randomly with someone because it’s a Tuesday and they might just be feeling down, or you write more cards than can be counted.

You too know the feeling of needing to do after death but there is way this scripture is traditionally read that implies that everything is already done. “That blessed are the poor because theirs is the kingdom of God,… and woe to the rich for they have already received their consolation,” but I don’t think this scripture is about a pie in the sky mentality - that all will be righted in heaven and therefore what is wrong on earth need not be addressed. Instead, I think this scripture is about doing now and I think heaven is about life on earth as much as it is about life after death. 

What precedes the Beatitudes is a multitude of people coming to hear Jesus and be healed, to be cured of diseases, of troubles, and of unclean spirits. “All in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed, all of them.”  In this passage the people are doing, they have travel far, they are listening and they are reaching out to Jesus and Jesus healed them. If Jesus believed heaven is for those who wait, why would he have healed on earth?

When he says “Blessed are you who are hungry now for you will be filled,” Jesus is telling the disciples and the crowd that the kingdom of God is when the hungry are fed. When he says, “Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.” Jesus is telling them that equality will come not when they are dead but now when the hungry are fed. 

Jesus believes heaven is present in those who do. When he says, “Blessed are you when people hate you,” and, “Woe to you when all speak well of you,” He is reminding us that until we all are loved our words carry little praise for those we do already. When he says, “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh,” he knows that we will smile and shake our heads with the love of knowing Louise Trapp and remembering her saying, even in her last weeks, “I feel like dancing.” He knows these two emotions are coupled. Likewise, when Jesus says, “Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep,” He is reminding us that after awhile, these funerals will get harder, but their sadness means we will have loved another more with each day. Jesus tells us that Blessed is something that happens on earth when people do.

He ends the Beatitudes with the Golden Rule, “Do to others as you would have them do to you,” and I think this is what this scripture has to do with death. When a beloved dies we ask ourselves why, and part of why’s answer comes in the way they lived, the things they did for others. So, we ask, “What about their life will we carry with us into ours? What did they do for us that we want to carry for others.” It gives death meaning to say, “Do to others as I have done to you.” I loved Pat’s honesty, and Louise’s optimism and Nola Whitley’s Alzheimer's subsiding when she would sing Jesus Loves Me as she did to her Sunday School classes with her kindergarten teacher background. When I see the ceramic Roosters on my porch from Kim Berry’s funeral I smile remembering her well-meaning love you to pieces sass. I am sure, likewise when you remember other loved ones you take the things they did and hold them in your heart. Molly posted a photo of a sunrise the other day reminding her of the vivacity a teacher friend who passed away. Molly was celebrating in life and sharing it in the same way her friend had taught her. It is as if her friend was saying, “Do to others as I have done to you.” and Molly was responding, how we live today honors the dead of yesterday.

This scripture is reminding us not to wait, but to do. To live as the saints before us have taught. To live in a way that creates balance between the poor and the rich, the hungry and the full, the outcast and the admired, and those who weep and those who laugh. That even if the weeping is getting harder, it’s because we knew and loved someone more and in that doing, death gives life its meaning. 

October 23, 2016 Guest Preacher, Jason McClaughry

Build your house on the rock

To my children:

While you are fast asleep, I lay awake. This is often the case on nights when I am overcome by a complex web of thoughts. In the stillness and darkness of midnight I read, listen, think….worry. I think about you, your mother, family and friends. I think about tomorrow. How will you navigate this beautiful, but often chaotic world we live in? What will you build your life upon? Who will you build it with?

I am encouraged by my Faith. You will not go it alone. Everybody joins a team in this life. You are born into your first one. As life goes on, you will join other teams, some through friendship, some through romance, and some through neighborhoods, schools, churches. There’s a role that you must play on the team, and it will affect you as you affect it. All your teams will have decidedly different fates. Some of your teams will win, some will lose. Some or your teams will achieve their expectations, some will not. Some of your teams will be remembered for their greatness, some will not. But none of your teams will be considered a failure if the contributors make a total effort to do the best that of which they are capable and remain true to principles. Ultimately, the dividend of your team will be the complete peace of mind gained in knowing you did everything within your power, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually to bring forth your full potential.

You and your team will need a solid foundation, founded on Faith and constructed upon the Rock, Jesus Christ. Even with a firm foundation, at times it will be tempting to yield to the pressures of life and become the person others would have you to be. So clearly define your common set of principles and remain true to them. Let me share with you four of my most closely held principles, selected with meticulous care and consideration following a variety of experiences in my life. Let me share with you about the principles of Love, Unity, Honor, and Courage.

Love

To be good teammates in life, you will need to learn to truly love one another. What do I mean when I say love?  The word has multiple meanings, and it may be a bit confusing. A familiar usage of love would include things like a strong affection for another or a warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion to someone. But I am thinking about love in the sense of “Christian love”; an unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another. Jesus tells us in the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10 to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Both the Old and New Testament tell us to not love with words and emotions, but with actions. We need to share with those in need, whether that need is for food, water, lodging, clothing, healing, or friendship. The love demonstrated in the parable of the Good Samaritan shows that “Christian love” is not emotional love, but a response to someone who is in need. And no one loves us more than God, for John 3:16 tells us that “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”. Since God made the ultimate of sacrifices and Jesus laid down his only life for us, we must be willing to lay down our lives for our brothers. Christ's total love and sacrifices for us motivates our evangelism and compels us to become ambassadors for Christ, spreading this good news to all that will hear.

I have seen many examples of Christian love in my life. My first coaches, in the form of my parents, showed me love in the highest form, consistently placing the needs of others above their own. They have, by example, portrayed a deep devotion to one another and their community for a lifetime. I have witnessed them helping an unknown somebody so they could get where they were going or in exceptional times welcoming a stranger in need, into our house, in the middle of the night. As a volunteer fireman, my father selflessly devoted more than 50 years of his life to his community, rising at all hours to respond to those in need. Most importantly my early coaches have been friends and examples to all whom they have encountered.

Unity

Fundamental to your team success will be unity. Without unity, you will simply be a loosely connected set of participants, likely bound to quickly go your separate ways. However, a team conducted with the choreography of unity and performing in concert with others is a wonderful thing. Team unit has an inherent way or magnifying and multiplying the performance of the individual. In this way, the group of players becomes more than a team – they can and will become a force. John Wooden, legendary basketball coach for the UCLA Bruins, when asked late in life about what he saw as the key to team unity, remarked elegantly – “Love for one another; consideration for everyone”.

The Bible places an extraordinary emphasis on the value of “unity”, but how will you achieve it? The secret to unity originates with how you view yourselves within the team and how you view your teammates. Ephesians 4: 2-3 tells us to be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.  A team filled with such people cannot help but have peace, unity, and harmony. The truly humble person sees his own faults in light of the perfections of Christ; he does not seek to see the faults of others.  A team full of such people enjoying their “common salvation” will be unified in carrying on the mission of 

Christ.

Your church team is full of individuals who have a variable set of backgrounds, uniqueness, and personalities. Even as part of the Christian body, they do not all think alike or even perform identical ministries. Such profound individualism could be counter to team unity. However one of the things I appreciate about your Church team, of which there are an abundance of things, is their ability to unite behind a number of causes. They do this together, in spite of individuality and the numerous things that could serve as divides. Most crucially this group has a common binder. The team’s common unity comes from a Faith in Jesus Christ and a belief that he spread the Gospel during his time on earth, died on the cross, and on the third day was resurrected. So the team is unified in this Faith, working to spread the Gospel of Jesus, and often gathering to celebrate this common purpose triumphantly around the Communion table. The team is a beautiful example of centering on common purpose of unity, in spite of outside influences that place a higher value on apparent differences.

Honor

When outsiders talk about your team, will they say you conduct yourselves with honor?  Do you deserve their courtesy, respect, and reverence? Honor, in the form of praise and adoration, is often conferred upon those of wisdom and intelligence, those with wealth, political clout, power, and celebrity status.  Such honor is fleeting, so don’t buy into the hype; fortunes are won and lost, reputations will be damaged and destroyed. True honor is living a life, infused with Spiritual humility, and based more upon esteem for our fellow man rather than ourselves. Romans 12:10 tells you to be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. When you learn the greatness of God you will learn the futility of trying to make yourself great.

Our Founding Fathers clearly understood and followed this Biblical understanding of honor. In 1776, the signers of our  Declaration of Independence, in citing abusive policies and foreign rule, recited the details of those conditions and offered a remedy for them. Interestingly in the final section of the final sentence, the founders stated “we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”  The word honor was singled out as sacred. To the founders, their lives and fortunes were not sacred; in the face of overwhelming power, they apparently realized that the only thing likely to endure an armed rebellion, if it came to that, would be their ideals, beliefs and faith. When they added sacred to the wording, they were letting go and committing their lives to God and each other completely, knowing that He would ultimately be their judge. This was not something they did lightly.

Courage

It could be argued that the most basic challenge to your practice of Faith is to overcome fear and remain faithful, to remain true to your convictions and commitments, even when doing so leads to frustration or pain or embarrassment – even when it leads to persecution. What will it take for you and your team to remain faithful and adhere to your principles of love, unity, and honor? It will take an abundance of courage underlain by a sense of boldness and confidence.  Faith will provide you with the discipline, confidence, and courage, to move forward in spite of your fears and obstacles that will fall in your way. Your faith will reaffirms to you that God is ultimately in control of your lives.

God is clear about fear and courage. Psalm 23 reinforces the concept where David writes Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.  We will at times struggle through excessive trials; more than a man can handle alone. Fear not, have courage. God’s power will see you through. In 2 Corinthians 12:8 Jesus tells you that My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. God doesn’t simply command courage with no reason behind it. Instead He says “fear not”. God Himself, His nature, and His perfect plans allow you to set aside fear and move forward with courage and conviction. The key in Christian life is not trying to be strong in yourself, but rather letting God’s power and strength fill and empower you through the inevitable difficulties of life and our Gospel Ministry.

There are different types of courage, ranging from physical strength and endurance to mental stamina and innovation. No story, no person more perfectly exemplifies the virtue of courage to encourage men than that of Jesus Christ. Within his brief lifespan Jesus stood up and defeated Satan when tempted in the Wilderness; he continued to evangelize in spite of murderous plots against him; he stood up to the false teachings of the Jewish elites and corrupt economic powers; he stood up against mobs that were against him; he overcame anguish and accepted the Father’s will, knowing full well the physical hardship he would soon face; he stood up to the Romans; he endured torture and persecution courageously even though he had many chances to recant and yield the beliefs of his Gospel. Ultimately he accepted death on the cross, making an infinite sacrifice of his life for the sins of all mankind. In the face of this horrible end, Jesus courageously told his followers in John 15:13 “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends”.

Conclusion

When I was young man, my mother gave me a book of poems to let me know that the world was a better place because I was part of the team. The following poem is one of my favorites from the book. I hope it will be one of yours as well, providing guidance and inspiration as you join all the different teams in your life. The poem is entitled:

How can you measure the value of a man.

The measure of a man is not found in the things he owns,

or what he has saved for retirement

or even his accomplishments

The true measure of a man is found in his faith and his heart.

Its found in the friends who stand by him.

the strength he displays under pressure,

the sensitivity he unashamedly expresses,

and his willingness to reveal vulnerability,

even at the risk of being hurt.

And its found in the truth of his words,

The genuineness of his life,

His unselfish actions,

And the values he lives by.

In the Bible you will find the bedrock principles upon which to build a lifelong foundation of Faith. If you catch a vision of the work that God is doing in the world, and the role he has given you to play in it, you will be given a purpose big enough to be worthy of your commitment to love, unity, honor, and courage. You can have faith that our God has acted, our God is acting, and our God will act in times to come.

October 16, 2016 Luke 2:21, & 25-38

After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child;
and he was called Jesus,
the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon;
this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel,
and the Holy Spirit rested on him.
It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.
Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple;
and when the parents brought in the child Jesus,
to do for him what was customary under the law,
Simeon took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,

“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”

And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about Jesus.
Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary,
“This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel,
and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher.
She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four.
She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day.
At that moment she came,
and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all
who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

****
This scripture began as seventeen verses and as I weekly do in sermon preparation, I wrote down each word by hand. By the time I got to Anna my hand was already sore and I wondered how necessary she was. Simeon steals the show taking the babe in his arms, praising God and blessing the parents. Without closer look, Anna can seem like an after thought, but I always feel bad about omitting women from a scripture passage, especially those who are named. There aren’t many of them, and Anna is called a prophet, the title right in front of her name. Its probably something we ought to hear more and so I kept her, and this Sunday, God called me to preach her, to preach Anna, to preach about women, about the ways they are often ignored, sidelined, and suffer abuse, to preach Anna, and her counter example of prophesy, of inclusion, faithfulness and strength. God also called me to call preach Simeon, what it looks like to be a man, righteous and devout, to preach Simeon, who holds a child in his arms, who praises God, and who gives a blessing. It seems in our national discourse we have forgotten the type of language and character that is redemptive, as Christians we have forgotten our focus on being a people of God.

And you would think that a Pastor’s Group would be one place where we remembered but even there I have witnessed locker room conversations. When I first began attending the Thursday morning gathering, Pastor Garth of the Agape Church and Pastor Lenny of the Nazarene welcomed me. They mentored me during my tumultuous first year of ministry; they shared stories of their own, let me cry and weekly sent me off with prayer. They were men like Simeon, men who could hold my vulnerability like Simeon held the child in his arms. Yet they treated me as an equal, often reassuring my calling to the pastorate in a town where I was the only full time female minister. As time passed, I grew busy and less in need of the weekly support, but would return to the Thursday gatherings to remain in contact with the Lenny and Garth and other pastors.

The group grew, three-fold at least though I was still the only female. Walking toward the meeting room in the back of the church, I would be so conscious of the sound of my feet walking down the hall. I didn’t want to click heels, I didn’t want my femininity to be the thing which preceded me. I didn’t want to be noticed before I could see what being noticed looked like. I was so quiet they never heard me coming, and they would sometimes remark as such. It made sense with so many of them they could no longer hear because what was once a place of prayer turned more like a political debate. Raised voices and interrupting filled the space, as did proof-texting-rhetorical-questions like, “What does Judges 8.43 say?” leaving the answerer to inadvertently support the speaker’s case by recalling the verse, or feel inadequate for not having memorized it. I would watch the sparing, sometimes for the entirety of an hour, and leave renewed in the assurance our gender and theological differences rather than revitalized for ministry with the community. I don’t know how long I lasted on this particular morning. Maybe Lenny noticed me and asked what I thought, but more than likely, I burned out,
“Do you guys know how you are speaking to each other - raised voices, debating, interrupting, a battle of wits without much compassion of your hearts.”
“This is how men who are close friend’s talk to each other,” some defended. Others mansplained that it was like sports and, “locker room conversation,” they said.
Clearly, I wasn’t welcomed in that men’s locker room - of bullying pastors rolling up wet towels. My feet had to remain quiet to be there and I was done. I have never been back, but as left that day, it was the first time I felt proud, a women like Anna, a prophet, who spoke to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem? Not the status quo, where the political arena is the temple of our nation and it’s locker rooms their chancel.

And I wish it was just locker room talk, if talk was all it ever was it would be less, but instead there are women for whom these things have happened, be they Monica Lewinsky or victims of Trump, or myself. I say victims of Trump because what is more disturbing than what is said in that video is what happened at its end. Having already objectified, and some might say threatened, the woman who has come to interview them, the two men get out of the van, and they each ask for a hug from the woman for the other man. She is there to interview them. She is there to do her job but they have made her job to put her body against theirs, with cameras rolling and the joke on her.

The other week I was out going to listen to music, and I saw a good friend of mine. He is engaged to another good friend of mine, and like many boyfriends and husbands of friends he gets a little big brotherly about who I date and how I’m treated. I always feel like he’s on my team. He also is kind of a giant Teddy Bear in football player size. So when I gave giant hug he picked me up and spun me around and I laughed. It was big brotherly, in the same way I have watched him dance with his nieces or that Simeon might have lifted up Jesus in his arms. But then my friend asked for me to give his friend a hug. Immediately, I became conscious of my body, what I was wearing, and how uncomfortable I felt. It felt like being set up, like there had been some discussion about me prior that I wasn’t in on. Did the friend think I was cute, or had they talked about my body as I had walked toward them? Maybe it was unintentional, but either way, it felt like I was a commodity, “I don’t know him that well.” I said apologetically and there was an awkward silence until I quickly excused myself inside the restaurant. I thought of when Maddy Irvine was a very little girl, and when she was saying hello or goodbye, her mom Melissa would say could give a hug, a high-five, or a handshake. My favorite were the jumping, dancing hugs where both people jumped or danced and then gave each other a big hug, but like my friend who picked me up, those were special occasions reserved for both knowing someone well and both feeling joyful. After church, Maddy was more likely to give a high five, and I wish I had been taught that option when I was little. I still remember Mr. Gannon’s whiskers itching and tickling my skin when as a kid my parents had me give him and his wife a hug and kiss before we left. It wasn’t sketchy, or at least it didn’t mean to be, but I wish I had ingrained in me another option, an option of choice. Maddy will grow up knowing she can be Anna, she can be a prophet, or whatever she wants, and Alex her brother will have seen the same. It wont mean that on exiting the church, he will give a handshake and she a hug. They will know that people like Siemon are just as likely to hold baby as Annas are to be prophets, and how will that change the redemption of our Jerusalem, this discourse of our nation?

Maybe, they won’t have people tell them they are too pretty to be a pastor, insinuating not only that pastors can’t be pretty, but that there are occupations for pretty girls and this is not one of them. Maybe, they won’t do a funeral and have some weird man come up to them and thank them for dressing like a woman, in a long professional skirt, as if how they dressed was the mark of their calling rather than the service they just did which declared the Lord’s presence in all of life, like Anna, the prophet, did when the Christ child was born. Maybe they will be more like former children of the church, Kate and Danny who fought fires together. Kate recalls,

“I asked him and one of our co-workers what they were doing and if they needed help and the co-worker said ‘man-stuff’ and I said, “What?’ And he said “We’re doing man-stuff,” and Danny stopped and stared at him and said, “Really?” and lit into him about how that wasn’t cool at all.”
Danny could have joined with his co-worker and ignored Kate but I think Danny is like Simeon. Danny is a man who who is righteous and devout, and who knows that God can work through Kate just as well as him. Bring treated equally meant even more Kate coming from someone in her church family.

This is why, I think it’s important to keep the Annas and Simeons in the text, so we can hear the redeeming prophesy of women, and the righteousness of men. So we can hear them from this ancient scripture, and likewise from our youth today.