They Stood Up

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Text: Numbers 27:1-11

Friends, can we all admit that this is a very big book and that 99.9% of us don’t know its stories from cover to cover?

We understand the overall arc of scripture… from creation, through the time in Egypt, the exodus and claiming of the promised land. 

We know the big picture story of how the tribes of Israel became a nation with a king and then fell apart and were carted off into exile. 

And we know about how they returned and how Jesus came to continue the story of God’s redemption and form us into God’s people, sending the Holy Spirit as God’s message exploded across the world. 

But every story?  Every name?

We fail to dig deep into the nitty gritty of the text and skim over some of the most interesting… but maybe also most disturbing… parts of our past. 

What we miss when we do so are the bold and untold stories of ordinary folks who have great lessons to teach us. 

We can’t all preach like Peter or pray like Paul or lead like Solomon… but God can use our voices and our actions to make a difference in this world. 

Over the next five weeks as we wrap up summer, we will be diving into the details of scripture as these little known people come alive for us. 

We start today with the daughters of Zelophehad: Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah.

Their names are so unfamiliar to our tongues today that I find myself stumbling over pronunciation. 

And yet, as Wil Gafney notes in her book, Womanist Midrash: a Reintroduction to the women of the Torah and the Throne, “their story is so important that they are mentioned in five different places… Only the prophets Miriam and Moses are mentioned in more books in the Hebrew Bible.” (page 156)

“They Stood” | Lauren Wright Pittman | A Sanctified Art | sanctifiedart.org

The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah is a story about land and inheritance and patriarchy. 

We are introduced to them in the middle of a census that is being taken amongst the Israelites to determine who is available to go to war with Midian as they seek to enter the promised land. 

They come from the line of Jospeh, through his son Manasseh, and their father Zelophehad had no sons.   (Numbers 26: 29-34)

As Gafney notes, Numbers chapter 26 connects the military census with the distribution of land to come.  We are told that the first generation of those who left Egypt will not make it out of the wilderness… only their children and grandchildren will.

But how will this new land that they will take be divided?

The census lists the names of those second-generation families… well, the second-generation families headed by men, who were eligible to go to war.

Gaffney writes: “only males were entitled to inherit the inhabited Canaanite land that God had promised the Israelites under this schema… only patriarchal households counted…” (p. 158)

It was an exclusionary practice that was uncommon among other surrounding cultures, but also meant that men who died during the war and left women as the head of their households would be left out of the allocation. 

As soon as this detailed census and explanation was read to the people, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah step forward.

This is described as taking place right outside of the meeting tent – where the ark of the covenant was contained. 

In front of Moses, Eleazar the priest, all of the chiefs… the entire community… they challenge the distribution and demand to be given land as well. 

They had no rights.

They had no power.

They had no authority.

But they stand up and make their voices heard.

These five women are of the second generation. 

Their father, Zelophehad, was among those who left Egypt, but he has died along their journey.

No mention is made of their mother, but Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah have no brothers.

AND, as the narrative will tell us later, they are unmarried. 

As they heard the census and the names of all of their cousins and other second generation families that would inherit the promised land, they recognized that the lineage of their father was being excluded. 

As Lauren Wright Pittman writes, “The text says the women came forward; they stood, they spoke, they questioned, and they even demanded.  Any one of these actions alone is difficult for the unseen and the unheard.  All they wanted was the receive the inheritance of their father and to keep his name from fading.  I’m sure the pain of their father’s death was potent, but they needed to be recognized, valued, and seen as human beings in order to survive.” (Faces of our Faith Study Journal)

They demanded that their family be given a share, just as their father’s brothers would be given. 

Now, this is in direct contradiction to the instructions that God had just handed down to Moses in chapter 26.

They were not just challenging their leaders, but the very word of God. 

The entire community had just experienced a devastating plague that was blamed on the men of Israel disobeying God by marrying Moabite and Midianite women, which often led to idolatry and the worship of the gods of these other cultures. 

When an Israelite brought a Midianite wife into the camp, the son of the priest Eleazar, Phineas, killed them both and the plague stopped. 

But, you know, killing the daughter of a leader of neighboring people has consequences and the war with Midian was a direct result of the initial disobedience and then later death.

So… maybe this wasn’t exactly the time to challenge what God has said…

To his credit, Moses does not immediately dismiss their complaint out of hand.

It would have been completely understandable for him to say, “This is the word of the Lord.”

Or, “I’m sorry, but this is the law.”

Instead, he listened.

And instead of rendering judgment himself, Moses took their case to God. 

The Lord replies, “Zelophehad’s daughters are right in what they are saying.  By all means, give them property as an inheritance among their father’s brothers.”

And then, God goes on to change the law so that if a man dies without a son, his daughter would receive the inheritance. 

When we look deeper into the text and the language here, what we find is surprising.

Wil Gaffney notes that God doesn’t just say they were right.  He declares that they are righteous in “a powerful affirmation, without peer in the canon for women or men.” (159)

And if you look at the Hebrew, the words God speaks do not imply a passive response by which these women would now have land.   

It demands corrective action on the part of those who would have denied them their inheritance. 

As Pittman writes in her artist statement of her piece, “They Stood,”:

God heard the voices of these women. “They are right,” God said.  The old law was no longer suitable, so God made a way for change.  Though the laws were probably carved into stone, God shows us in this text that the law is living, breathing, adaptable, and changing.  This text invites us to come forward, to stand, to speak, to question, and to demand change when we experience injustice.

A couple of things to note here.

First, when we believe we are experiencing an injustice or are troubled by a law or a command that we find within scripture, the example of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah tells us that it is a good thing to speak up.

Even if our voice trembles.

Even if we are unsure if anyone will listen.

Even if we have no authority or power. 

Second, this scripture is one of many places where God makes a way for change.

From the Lord’s declaration after the flood that there would never again be a complete destruction of the earth in Genesis…

to the new vision of the clean and the unclean that comes to Peter in Acts…

and this text…

we find examples of how the cries of people and changing circumstances in the world lead God to act and respond in new ways. 

Our God is not distant from us, handing down decrees that are unchanging.

God is with us, listens to us, walks with us, hears our cries, experiences our pain, and knows our hope.

God desires abundant life and chooses to act in new ways to demonstrate love and mercy and to create and recreate possibilities within our midst.

God is in relationship with us… and a relationship is a two-way street. 

But the third lesson here is that it is not our job to declare something is right or wrong, unjust or fair.   

We also learn from the example of Moses, who took it to the Lord. 

So part of our responsibility, either as someone who is experiencing injustice or as someone who is in a position to act, is to notice the places that trouble our souls.

Our job is to listen and to explore and understand the problem.

And part of our responsibility is to pray and search the scriptures and to listen for God.

If the ways of God, the laws of God, the commands of God can change in response to human need and action, then we need to be prepared.

As the Lord cries out in Isaiah 43:19: “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” 

Our job is to look, to listen, to pay attention and be ready to see where and how God is acting in this world.

And then… to figure out how to get on board.

I mentioned that the five daughters of Zelophehad show up not once or twice, but five times in the scriptures of the Hebrew Bible.

And part of this reason for their continued presence in the life of the people was that this new command of God was not immediately followed. 

God commands a new law for Moses to implement among the people – that women without brothers shall inherit the land of their father. 

Yet when we get to chapter 36 in Numbers, the war with Midian is over and they are preparing to enter Canaan and as the allocated land is being discussed, the daughters come up again.

Only this time, they are not the active participants in their own story.

Their cousins stand up and speak out and are concerned about the distribution of land to these unmarried women, because when they marry, the land will no longer be a part of the tribe of Manasseh.

Moses… without consulting the Lord… modifies what God says in chapter 27 to declare that they are only allowed an inheritance if they marry within their father’s tribe. 

Mahlah, Tirzah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Noah act according to these new conditions and marry kin within the tribe of Manasseh. 

More time goes on.

The people cross the Jordan River and enter the land of Canaan.

Moses, who we are told disobeyed the Lord but not about what specifically, dies before he is able to enter the promised land and the leadership falls to Joshua.

Here is where the rubber meets the road, as the people now are in possession of the land and parcels are being handed out for each tribe.

When we get to Joshua chapter 17, the land for the tribe of Manasseh is being determined and the text tells us that “an allotment took place for the rest of the clans of Manasseh – for the people of Abiezer, Helek, Asriel, Shechem, Hepher, and Shemida. These were the sons of Manasseh the son of Jospeh, the male descendants by their clans.” (17:2)

Did you hear it? 

There is no mention of the daughters of Zelophehad.

And once again, Mahlan, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah stand up and speak out.

Once again, they approach Eleazar the priest, Joshua the leader, and the other clan chiefs.

Once again, they fight for their inheritance.

“The Lord commanded Moses to give us a legacy along with our male relatives,” they declare. 

Gaffney notes, “They do not say, ‘Moshe failed to obey God and died.’ There is no need.  The implication is clear.” (p. 163).

Joshua acts where Moses did not.

The tribe of Manasseh is granted ten parcels of land, one of which would belong to the daughters of Zelophehad.

And these daughters are later accounted for in the listing of the family lines in the book of Chronicles. 

But that was only possible because of their courage.

Their persistence.

Their willingness to stand up and speak out. 

In our lives today, we might not always have power or authority.

But we do have a voice.

And when we see something that is unjust or wrong, we too can stand up, stand together, and speak out.

We can let the community know about what is going on so that we can seek God’s direction and act. 

And if we do have power and authority, we can choose to listen, to pray, and to respond. 

May the bold and too often untold legacy of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah guide us for the future.  Amen.

Follow the Star: Repent

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Text: Mark 1:14-20, Jonah 3:1-5,10

Over the last year our routines, our work, our families, our vacations… so many parts of our lives were unexpectedly turned upside down and inside out.
Including our church.
One of my mentors often reminds me that church is often the place that we go to escape the change that happens in the world. It has often been one of the only stable places we can turn.
Churches are notorious for being stubborn and afraid to try new things…
After all, we’ve never done it that way before.

But this year, we had to.
We had to adapt.
We had to change with the circumstances.
We had to embrace a new way of being together and being the church.
We had to repent and believe the good news.

The Greek word we translate into “repent” is metanoia.
It is a reorientation.
Turning around.
Changing our thoughts and our actions.
And in scriptures, we are called to repentance, transformation, when we encounter a new understanding of reality… God’s reality.

Well, we’ve certainly had to do that this year.
In light of the reality of a deadly virus, we reoriented ourselves.
We embraced new practices like online worship and small groups and studies.
But we also noticed some things about our church that honestly, we should have changed a long time ago, but we were too stuck in old ways to do it.
One example of this is how our church, like a lot of churches, can get stuck in cliques and groups.
You notice it at coffee time when people tend to sit down with the same group of people every week.
It’s who we know, who we are comfortable with.
But sometimes that means that a new friend to our church is left out.
Now, if I had come down to Faith Hall between services, and mixed up all of the seating arrangements, ya’ll would have revolted on me.
But when worship moved online, we began to host our Zoom coffee time and our breakout rooms got randomly assigned.
No one gets left out and anyone who wants to stay gets to “sit at a table” with different folks each week.
In the process, we’ve made new friends, learned more about each other, and I think our church is stronger as a result.
That is repentance in action.
A new understanding of who we are and new practices that help us to be more faithful to who God is calling us to be.

As we seek to follow the star and align our lives more closely to God, let’s take a deeper look at how repentance plays a role.
Today, we have two different scriptures that help us to embrace what that means. One is an example of how we turn from actions that have separated us from God. The other is how we might turn towards God’s call in our lives.

Let’s start with Jonah.
One of our more traditional ways of speaking about repentance is naming and confessing our sins.
I have to admit that every time I hear the word “repent” I picture someone standing on a street corner holding up a sign.
And, honestly, that’s kind of what Jonah did!
In the Message translation, God’s instructions come to Jonah: “Preach to them. They’re in a bad way and I can’t ignore it any longer.” (3:1-2)
So Jonah walked for three days through the city telling them the end was near…. “In forty days you will be destroyed.”

Notice, Jonah doesn’t tell them to repent.
But his words help the people of this city see reality in a new way.
They recognize their evil and their sin and they turn from it.
The entire community repents, turns around, reorients themselves to God’s preferred future.
They have no promises of mercy, no hope of restoration.
But confronted with reality, they realize they simply cannot go on a moment longer the way they had been living.
They turn from their ways in a moment of repentance.

Over the last year, there have been a number of moments when we have experienced this kind of clarity and need for repentance.
From the death of a black man on a street in Minneapolis, to raging wildfires perpetuated by climate change, to the brazen display of Christian nationalism in the insurrection a few weeks ago, we have been confronted with images that lead us to cry out… this is not who we want to be.
We may disagree about what concrete actions and policy changes need to happen, but our lives have been collectively reoriented, altered, as we have realized there are systemic and interpersonal realities we must turn from.
I think back to the story of the Ninevites who saw their impending doom.
They recognized just how far their lives and their actions were from what God intended for them and they did something about it.
Whenever we are confronted with reality, a new reality, a different reality, we have the opportunity to hold our lives up to the measure of God’s intentions for us.
If what we discover leads us to change our thoughts or actions, that is repentance.

But there is another piece of this story that is important.
God repents.
When God sees how the people have claimed a new reality, how they have truly turned from evil, the divine mind is changed.
God turns from calamity and destruction to mercy and grace.
God experiences metanoia, too.

In our gospel reading from Mark, we find Jesus himself as the street corner preacher, calling everyone he encounters to repent and believe in the good news.
He is not pointing out their faults or their lack of faith. He is not calling them to turn from something that was bad or evil, but calling them towards a new reality, a Kingdom reality.
His words reach Simon and Andrew, James and John, simple fishermen who drop their nets and leave their jobs and their families.
But as Thomas Long, a preacher and professor at Candler School of Theology claims, “Jesus disrupts [their reality] not to destroy but to renew.” He notes how their roles as brothers and sons become transformed into new relationships in God’s family and how even their work becomes a part of how they serve the Kingdom. “Their past has not been obliterated; it has been transformed by Jesus’ call to follow.”
In the light of Christ, they see themselves in a new light and the potential of who they could be.

I have watched over these last years how the people of Immanuel have heard this call and have turned towards God, using their gifts and strengths to serve the Kingdom.
The ways that you have come to understand that church is not simply a place where you find comfort and the familiar, but where you hear the call to become more of what God believes you can be.
I think about the young woman in our church who felt the tug to make blankets for our homeless neighbors.
Or about our knitters who made prayer squares… which we have also shared with essential workers at our local care centers.
I think about men and women in our church who have built sets for VBS that have helped our children to grow closer to Jesus.
And about those who give their time on Sunday mornings in the AV booth to make sure that we remain connected to God and one another.
Or those who manage our finances, or lead us in music, or make sure the food pantry is filled.
And I think about the countless stories you have shared with me about how you are finding new ways to live out your faith in your work place, in your homes.

Repentance is not simply turning from our past and our failures, but it is also about turning toward who God has created you to become and the Kingdom reality that God is bringing to bear upon this earth.
It is, as our first National Youth Poet Laureate said on Wednesday at the inauguration, the remembrance that we are “not broken, but unfinished.”
That there is more to do, more to experience, more ways to serve, that there is a fullness that awaits us if we simply could repent.
Turn around.
Turn towards God.
Change our hearts and our actions.
To allow ourselves to be transformed.
May it be so.

No Christmas without Consent and Commitment

One Christmas, when my niece was about six years old, I carefully wrapped up a gently loved American Girls doll and accessories that had belonged to a dear friend of mine.
When Cami unwrapped that gift, she literally burst into tears.
“I’ve wanted one of these for my whole life!” she cried out between sobs!

Have you ever waited your entire life for something?
Have you ever been so moved by the experience that it overwhelmed you? Overpowered you? Changed everything about you?
The gospel of Luke tells us about a particular man who had been waiting his whole life for the birth of God’s savior… a man named Simeon.

While the Advent journey takes us through an emotional rollercoaster of joy, fear, humility, and anticipation, there is no other emotion to guide the days after Christmas than pure celebration. Each of the readings assigned for this Sunday call us to take a deep breath of relief, to look around at the beauty of what God has done, and to simply enjoy it.
The gospel of Luke tells us about a particular man who had been waiting his whole life for the birth of God’s savior… a man named Simeon.
Simeon was a man filled with the Holy Spirit, and long ago a promise was made to him that he would not see death until the Messiah had come.
Most people were looking for a leader to rise above the people – a powerful and spiritual figure.
But when this infant child crossed his path, Simeon knew that the promise had been fulfilled.
In this painting by Ron DiCianni, you can sense that overwhelming, outpouring of relief and gratitude and praise as he holds this tiny, precious child.
You see, Simeon understood that this child would grow to become not just a light of revelation to his Jewish brothers and sisters, but would be the light of salvation to all the world.
This man had given his whole life to God and in this moment, he understood what it was all for.
But there was something more.
The Holy Spirit helped him to understand that this path to salvation would be a heart-breaking journey for Mary and Joseph.
“This boy is assigned to be the cause of the falling and rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that generates opposition… a sword will pierce your innermost being too.”

Throughout Advent, we have heard the stories of the women who were part of the genealogy of Jesus… but there is one remaining.
The angel Gabriel appeared before a young woman named Mary.
She is proclaimed to be favored in God’s eyes, blessed among all women, for she will bear a child who will be called the Son of God.
I have always considered being found favored in God’s eyes to nothing but joy, but as this young woman sat there, wide awake, talking with a messenger from God, I wonder what was going through her mind.
Now that we have read through some of these ancestral stories over Advent, I find that God’s favor isn’t always filled with abundance.
As Helen Pearson ponders, “Maybe she imagined what Sarah, pregnant at ninety because God favored her, must have experienced. She might have recalled Abraham, favored by God yet commanded to sacrifice his only son… Perhaps she remembered Joseph, the favored one, sold into slavery by his brothers… Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba found favor with God, but they suffered betrayal deaths, scandals, and isolation… Finding favor? What might it mean?” (Mother Roots, p229)
All she can know in this moment is that saying yes to what God wants to do in her life, with her life, through her life, will not be a walk in the park.
As that famous… or maybe infamous Christmas song goes, “Mary, did you know?”
Maybe not every detail…
But she understood what it meant to follow God.
She knew that not only would her life be transformed.
As she sang out in praises to her cousin Elizabeth, in words that have remained with us all throughout the season of Advent,
“God will pull down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly. God will fill the hungry will good things and send the rich away empty.”
She knew the world would be transformed, turned upside down and inside out.
And that kind of work is messy, and hard, and painful, and oh so good and needed.
And so Mary gives her consent to everything that this miracle will entail: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
We witness her willingness to accept the joyful burden that God is bestowing upon her.
We hear her song of praise to the God who has come to her, a lowly servant. “Let it be with me according to your word.” And we forget how difficult it must have been to not only accept this joyful burden with those words, but to carry that joyful burden in her life.

Two thousand some years ago, a young woman, a girl really, said “yes” to God’s invitation – and the world was forever changed.
But then, if you think about it, that was how God had been working all along.
From the very beginning, the people of God were transformed and moved along and inspired by ordinary nobodies who hesitantly said “yes” to God.
Think of the widow, Tamar… the prostitute, Rahab… the immigrant, Ruth… the victim, Bathsheba…
Each of them, in their own way, said “let it be with me according to your word.”
They remembered God’s promises and lived the rest of their lives committed to obeying and fulfilling those promises.
And God accomplished amazing things through them.

Right now, we find ourselves celebrating the good thing that God has done in our midst.
But I find myself left with a question.
What are we doing to actively wait and look out, like Simeon had, for the new thing that God is about to do?
When the call of God rings out again, how will we respond?
You see, we are not all that different from these faithful, ordinary folks in these stories.
We are imperfect people with imperfect lives and yet we are asked to say yes to God.
Not a temporary commitment, like a new years resolution that we make today and forget about tomorrow…
We have been asked to give our lives to following Jesus Christ.
Can you turn your heart to God and say, “let it be with me according to your word.”?
Are you ready, are you prepared for something new to be born within your spirit?
Within this community?
Are we ready for Christ to enter our midst, our hearts?
Does that idea terrify you?
You know what. It terrifies me a little bit.
What is so scary is that saying yes means everything will change.
In fact, I think we all hope that we have said yes in the past, but because we have just kind of kept on the same path we’ve always been on, nothing has actually happened.
If we want to experience the kind of transformation God is brining into this world, we have to give ourselves to God completely.
It’s not just about saying yes. It is about continuing to say yes every single day.
Everything changed for Tamar. Everything changed for Rahab. Everything changed for Ruth. Everything changed for Bathsheba.
Everything changed for every single one of those disciples who put down their nets and their tax bags and decided to follow Christ.
But you know what… they didn’t have to do it alone.
And when someday, we find the courage to say yes to God, we will not be left on our own either.
Because while God freely chooses to use ordinary people to accomplish his will – God also gives us everything that we need.

Starting next week, with this new year, we are going to spend a few weeks working and praying and studying together and thinking about what it might mean to say yes.
What it might mean to truly follow Christ.
What it might mean to allow God to transform our lives.
I’m excited about the journey… I hope you will be too.

The Redemption of Scrooge: Keeping Christmas Well

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Text: Luke 2: 8-20

Over the four weeks of Advent, we have been exploring together in worship the story of Ebenezer Scrooge captured in A Christmas Carol.
Scrooge is a bitter, lonely man whose “soul is as frigid as the bleak midwinter air.” The only friend he had was dead, and Scrooge might as well be dead for all of the living he is doing.
But on Christmas Eve, the ghost of his friend and business partner, Marley, shows up with a dire warning – change your life or you will end up like me.
Over the night, three spirits visit Scrooge. The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas Yet to Come.
Ebenezer Scrooge is transported to his past and reminded of the loneliness of his childhood, but also those moments of joy that he has forgotten.
He is invited to look around him at the present lives of people like his nephew, Fred, and his employee Bob Cratchit and family. He sees the bleakness of their lives, but also the immense joy they find in the simple things.
And finally, he is taken to the future by a silent Spirit and given a glimpse of his own demise. More than that, he sees the possible outcomes of lives that had only just captured his attention – the loss of Tiny Tim Cratchit.
The visits over the night shake him to his core and Scrooge is transformed. He vows that he will live with the Spirit of Christmas in his heart.

Like Scrooge, we, too, have come to Christmas.
If you are anything like me, these past few weeks have been a blur of preparation, purchasing gifts, wrapping presents, baking treats, and traveling to be with friends and family.
The build up to this special time of year is chaos and when we finally get here, we collapse in a heap.
By the time the tree is out on the curb and the nativity is packed away, we start to wonder what it all was for. The kids head home, or we go back to work and school, and we might not even know Christmas arrived, aside from the new gadgets and the extra pounds.

Perhaps, we, like Scrooge, need to learn how to keep Christmas well.

After a night of ghostly visits, Scrooge vows to live his life differently.
He is changed and he wants to make changes in the world.
He wakes up on Christmas morning filled with the Christmas Spirit and he runs from the house, intent on sharing it with every person he meets.
He goes out and buys the biggest turkey he can find for the Cratchit family.
He shouts words of joy to strangers on the street.
He even, finally, accepts the invitation to come and dine at his nephew Fred’s house.

But the amazing thing about the Christmas spirit that fills his heart is that it doesn’t fade when the decorations come down.
No, he allows it to seep into his pores.
As Matt Rawle, author of The Redemption of Scrooge, writes: “Scrooge makes good on his promise, becoming like a second father to Tiny Tim, and a good friend, master, and man to the city he once scorned. It was said thereafter that he ‘knew how to keep Christmas well.’”

Scrooge’s story actually reminds me of the shepherds in the field to whom the angels appeared on that night so long ago.
They, too, were visited by beings that forever changed their lives.
They were invited to discover new truths about themselves and the world around them.
And Luke tells us that this one special night forever changed their lives.
Everywhere they went, and to every person they met, they spread the good news about what the angels had told them about this special child.
They were transformed from simple shepherds, lowly in status, to bearers of good news to the world.
Luke tells us that the shepherds let loose – glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen.
They learned to keep Christmas and keep it well.

What does it mean to keep Christmas well today?
Maybe our clues lie right here in the Advent wreath.
As we lead up to this night each one of these candles reminds us of the Spirit of Christmas that we are to carry with us all year long.

We keep Peace, by forgiving those who have wronged us and sharing comfort with those who are struggling.
We keep Hope, by trusting that God has our future in his hands and offering encouragement to those who are unsure.
We keep Love by sharing God’s presence with strangers and friends, showing up in their lives in real relationships.
And we keep Joy by letting go of our fears and shifting our attitudes towards one of gratitude and simple expectation.
It means that we embrace the awe of the shepherds who kept proclaiming the story, long after the star and the angels left the sky.
It means we keep accepting the invitation to be in relationship with God… not just on this evening, but every day of our lives.

The Redemption of Scrooge: Facing the Yet to Come

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Text: Romans 8:4b-17, Luke 4:18-19

There are a number of personality inventories out there, but one that has captured my imagination lately is the Enneagram. It describes people in one of nine categories, like the reformer, the achiever, the loyalist and the peacemaker (which is me).
Every morning, I get a little sentence or two in my email that has a thought of the day related to my type.
Today’s was an invitation to claim a new affirmation – “I now affirm that I am excited about my future.”

I now affirm that I am excited about my future.

I’m going to be completely honest and admit that I haven’t been very excited about my future lately. Partly because there is so much unknowing in my future. In our future.
There is the unknowing about what will happen with the denomination next February.
There is a whole lot of unknown in the political landscape of the world – nations experiencing unrest, treaties that are fragile, innocent lives caught in the middle.
There is the unknown that comes in our work… in our families… in our health.
Can we do enough to prevent severe climate change?
Will the infection spread in his leg?
How will the economy impact our workplaces?

Where there are unknowns, there are also fears. Fears as we begin to imagine what might happen.
These fears make it very hard to be excited, much less find the joy represented in the fourth candle on our Advent wreath.

What is ironic is that I don’t imagine Ebenezer Scrooge was the type of man who spent much time worrying about the future. His focus seemed to be on the present moment, his present moment, and making every penny count.
He was turned inward, unable to see the hopes and fears of the people around him, and seemed to not really even care about his own future story.
Until the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come arrives with the third chime of the bells.

Oh, what we wouldn’t give for that kind of glimpse into our future!
To know with certainty what the outcome of an election would be.
Or which course of treatment we should choose.
To be able to see the impact of the decisions being made today.

Scrooge is taken into his own future and allowed to see the end of his story. Standing in his own bedroom, the Spirit shows him his own body, “plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for…” (Stave 4).
He is taken to the home of the Cratchit’s and the realization hits him that the son of his employee, Tiny Tim, has died… the death of an innocent that surely would have been preventable with better access to medicine and care and food for strength.
And the man is shaken to his core.
The future that Scrooge discovers is a worst-case scenario.
It is our fears come to fruition.
A life lived without love that makes no impact on the world around it.

And he asks a question that resonates in my heart:
“Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of the things that May be, only?”

Are these the things that will be?
Or of things that may be only?
Is the future set in stone?
Or can it yet be changed?

And then he cries out, begs the silent Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come to listen:
“Hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been… Why show me this if I am past all hope?”

In catching a glimpse of his own past, present and future, Scrooge discovers that he doesn’t want to be the same person that he was.
The whole trajectory of his life has changed in this one night.
And the good news, the blessing, the joy of this moment is that he can change. He does change. And he can make change in the world.

The story of our Christian faith is a story of redemption and transformation.
It is the story of the possibility that we can change and that we can make changes in this world.

Often, it is by looking back on the mistakes of our past that we are spurred to repent and make changes in the future.

It is when we look around us at the injustices and inequities of the present moment that we discover ways we can change our way of being in the world.

Sometimes, it is in imagining the worst case scenarios of the future, naming our fears for what might happen, that we discover that there are changes we can make today in order to prevent them from becoming a reality.

I heard recently an interview with outgoing California Governor, Jerry Brown. No matter what you might think of his politics, I found this piece of advice he had for his successor to be profound:
“Imagine what could go wrong, and what could go wrong in the worst possible way. And after you imagine that, then take careful steps to avoid it… You gotta stand back and try to look over the horizon and say, “OK, what are the things that may not go right?” How do we correct that? How do we deal with it ahead of time?”

The very story of Christmas is God’s answer to that question.
What could go wrong?
What could go wrong in the worst possible way?
What can I do to correct it?

You see, God looked out at our future with all of the bad decisions and pain and grief and suffering that we experience, and God saw not a future that would be, but a future that might be.
A future that could be changed.
And so God came down and entered our lives.
God was born among us.
Immanuel.
And our Lord looked around at what had been, our past and history of struggle…
And looked around at what was, the present oppression and yearning of the people…
And Jesus recited the words of the prophets and declared a transformation, a new way of being in the world:
“He has sent me to preach good news to the poor…
To proclaim release to the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind…
To liberate the oppressed and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And then that earthly ministry was given to us. The Holy Spirit poured out upon us, empowering us, filling us, transforming us, so that we might head into the world and make change ourselves.

Ebenezer Scrooge had lived a life of selfishness. He saw only his counting book and the success of his business.
But in the middle of the night, that visit from three ghosts turned his world upside down.
It was the transformative power of the Holy Spirit, setting him free from the shackles of what had been and empowering him to live the life that might be.

As Paul tells us in his letter to the Romans, all of us who are born of the Spirit are set free.
We are set free from our past mistakes.
We are set free from our present selfishness.
We are set free from the fears of what might be.
And we are empowered and strengthened to claim a new vision of what might be for the future.

We don’t know what the outcomes of medical tests might be… but we can walk with one another through a journey towards wholeness and offer joy and hope.
We cannot see the end of conflict in this world… but we can speak up for peace and reach out to our own neighbors in love.
The final decisions our denomination might make in a couple of months are still to be determined, but we get to choose how we will continue to love and care and support one another, no matter what those decisions might be.

Wherever we go, whatever we do, in the midst of the mess and the beauty of life, we have been set free to embrace our hopes rather than our fears because we know that we are not alone in the struggle.
You see, the one who breathed life into creation is the same one who cried out from the manger in Bethlehem is the same one who walks with us through the trials and sorrows of today.
And while we cannot control every piece of the future, we do know that God is already there, ready to meet us.
For that reason, we face the future unafraid.
No matter what may come, God is with me… God is with you… and I’m excited about that kind of future.

Keep P.U.S.H.ing!

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My aunt Barb has been diagnosed and treating uterine and ovarian cancer for about two years now. She has been through a few rounds of surgery, chemo, and radiation. Some of it has been successful! Some of the cancer has returned. It has been an up and down journey, but she has had quite a few healthy months in the midst of it all.

Through everything, family and friends have been a huge support and together they have participated in Relay for Life the past two years.

As Team Triple B, their slogan is “Keep PUSHing”

For them, PUSHing means that you Pray Until Something Happens.

 

Pray Until Something Happens.

 

In these past six weeks, we have talked a lot about prayer. We started out by talking about prayer as group activity… something we do together. Pastor Todd talked about prayer as an intimate relationship with our parental God. Trevor invited us to think about prayer as something that is always hard and always necessary – a sweet devotion. Our guest preachers, Pastors Ted and Mara, have led us in a variety of disciplines and continued to stretch our thinking on how we practice prayer.

While I was away on leave, I spent every single morning in prayer. I wish I could say that I always spent every morning in prayer, but as Trevor so eloquently stated in his message, prayer is hard work.

Yet, on my renewal leave, my only real task was to pray. To pray for you. To pray for our ministries. To pray for God to guide me and us. And I read a lot about prayer as well.

One of the things that kept striking me is that we need to pray like we mean it.

We need to pray about those things in this world that we really want to change.

We need to pray until something happens!

 

In our gospel reading, Jesus was walking into Jerusalem and he passed by a fig tree. Even though it was out of season, he looked for fruit and didn’t find any. So he said, “No one will ever again eat your fruit!” The tree withered, dried up, and died within 24 hours.

Jesus prayed… and something happened!

Now, I’m going to be honest… this is a rather strange story that leaves us with all sorts of questions:

Why would Jesus punish the tree when it couldn’t help that it was the wrong season?

The scripture says he was really hungry… so maybe he was just really grouchy, like I often get when I haven’t eaten in a while…

Because, I mean, what kind of Jesus is this that arbitrarily causes things to die?

United Methodists don’t typically buy into the kind of prosperity gospel that says if you pray for what you want, you will get it.

We are fully aware that all kinds of faithful people pray for things like healing and miracles and help and the answers aren’t always what we want.

Maybe that is why even though it is a story mentioned in both Matthew and Mark, most of the cycles of scripture readings pastors use completely ignore this passage. We’d rather Jesus didn’t have this encounter with the fig tree.

 

Yet, the core of the message here… aside from the weird stuff with the fig tree… is repeated over and over again by Jesus.

Ask and it will be given to you.

Seek and you will find.

Knock and the door will be opened (Matthew 7:7-8 and Luke 11:9)

If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains… nothing will be impossible (Mt 17:20)

If we ask for anything in agreement with God’s will, God listens to us… we know that we have received what we asked from God. (1 John 14-15)

If we pray… stuff will happen! Not little stuff… BIG. GIGANTIC. POWERFUL. MOUNTAIN SIZED stuff!

That’s what scripture tells us.

That’s what Jesus keeps reminding us.

Prayer is powerful.

 

There is a important thing to remember in this power of prayer, however.

This power only works when our prayers are aligned with God’s will.

If I started praying for a bigger house today… I probably wouldn’t get it. Because that is not about God… its about me.

As 1 John puts it: If we ask for anything in agreement with God’s will, God listens to us… we know that we have received what we asked from God. (1 John 14-15)

Even in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed for what he wanted… but he ended that prayer: not my will, but yours be done.

What I love about my aunt’s prayer during this time  is that while she has all sorts of hopes and wants and desires for her treatment, their goal is for God’s will to be done.

They are going to Pray Until Something Happens.

That might be good news and healing. It might be deeper relationships.  It might not be the ending they want, but they are open to discovering God’s blessings and God’s answers along the way.

And through it all… they are going to pray.

 

I have found that we don’t hesitate to lift up prayers asking for healing. We are even pretty good at lifting up prayers of gratitude.

But there are things in this world that we are called to do and change and work towards… and we forget to pray about it!

We get so caught up in what we are doing that we forget to ask God to be a part of it. We keep thinking it is all about us.

And when we do so, we forget to tap into the mountain-moving power of prayer that is right there at our fingertips.

 

 

And that is what we need to do.

Last fall, we sat down and spent some time asking God what we were supposed to do here at Immanuel. And out of those conversations as leadership, we set some goals around places we have passion and we felt God was moving. Now… we need to pray about it.

We need to Pray Until Something Happens.

 

One of those goals was that we wanted to increase our visibility in the community… We want get to know our neighbors better… And our goal, our hope, is that those new relationships will mean there are 10% more people here in worship at the end of this year.

But you know what… we haven’t really prayed about it. We haven’t asked God to help us with this work. We’ve been trying to do it on our own.

 

Another goal we set last year was create space for people to serve here at Immanuel. We want to make sure that everyone is connected to some kind of ministry beyond Sunday morning. And one of the pieces of this goal is to encourage new people to embrace God’s gifts in their life and we wanted to find a place for 10 new people to serve on our ministry teams.

But we haven’t been praying about it. We haven’t asked God to help us.

 

And as the Iowa Annual Conference, we have this amazing new goal. As United Methodists, we want to make a significant impact on poverty in our communities and we think we can do something really big by addressing the opportunity gap in education. And so, we are being asked to get involved with an effort to distribute half a million books and to give a million hours of time over the next year. And it is a big and awesome and mountain sized goal and we are just getting started…

So you know what… we had better start praying for it.

 

In fact, we need to start praying for all of these things.

We are going to need God on our side if these things are going to happen.

If the world is going to change… if the kingdom is going to come… if God’s will is to be done, we need to ask for God to be involved.

We need to start praying until something happens.

 

As we leave worship today, you’ll find that there are some tables at the back with three different stations.

Each station relates to one of those goals I lifted up in the message this morning.

And at each station is a prayer card I want to invite you to take with you.

I want us to commit to praying for mountains to move.

I want us to commit to praying every day that God’s will be done in our midst.

 

You don’t have to pray for every single one of them… but pick at least one.

Commit yourself to prayer by name.

If we have at least 50 people here in the church praying for every one of these goals do you think God will hear us. Do you think God will sense we are not only people who care about these things, but we are ready for change. We believe. We have faith that God can make a difference here.

 

Ghandi once wrote:

If when we plunge our hand into a bowl of water,

Or stir up the fire with the bellows

Or tabulate interminable columns of figures on our book-keeping table,

Or, burnt by the sun, we are plunged in the mud of the rice-field,

Or standing by the smelter’s furnace

We do not fulfill the same religious life as if in prayer in a monastery,

The world will never be saved.

 

We may not share the same faith as Ghandi, but we all believe in the power of prayer. And Ghandi’s words remind us that prayer is not just for the super-religious, and prayer is not only for renewal leave… prayer is something we are supposed to be doing every second of every day of our lives.

 

We should be praying when we work.

We should be praying as we play.

We can be praying as we brush our teeth and drive to work.

We can pray at the dinner table.

We need to be praying everywhere, all the time, about everything.

 

And what I want you to do is take one of these prayer cards this morning and pray your heart out.

Put it on your bathroom mirror and pray it every morning.

Stick it in your car and pray before you get to work.

Take more than one if you want to, and put them wherever they might be a reminder to you.

Bring your prayers to breakfast and take turns each saying your prayer together.

 

Pray… even if your faith is as small as a mustard seed.

Pray that mountains might move.

Pray that kids might learn to read.

Pray that we might meet and grow with new people.

Pray that every person might find a place to connect and serve.

Pray.

Pray Until Something Happens.

Ever creeping, creeping charlie

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Creeping Charlie was already flourishing in our backyard when we moved in last summer.  We had been working on hand pulling some of it and forgot to apply a herbicide on it last fall when it would have been a good time to do so.

So this spring, when we worked to till the southern portion of the lawn to make a garden, I knew I really needed to get down on my hands and knees and work on pulling out the Creeping Charlie before the machine ripped it all to bits and I ended up spreading the annoying groundcover.

For the most part, that helped.  One good afternoon of pulling cleared out that space and made it a mostly acceptable spot to till and garden.

But these last few days, as I have had time to spend in the garden weeding, it is all over the place.

Not the big swaths of it like before, but little tiny clusters here and there.

Trying to come back.

Trying to grow and spread.

Trying…

In our spiritual lives and in our ministries, there are things we want to get rid of or stop doing as well.  Bad habits. Old priorities. Outdated methods.

Just like the Creeping Charlie was once touted as a excellent groundcover with its pretty blue flowers, these things might have had their time and place.  Or they might have always been unwelcome in our lives and in our churches.

Either way, when you try to change something and go in a different direction, there are bits and pieces of the past that keep coming back.

A change in worship styles that keeps being invaded with requests to sing the old hymns.

Deciding to offer only healthy snacks after worship until someone brings donuts, again.

Setting aside time for devotions that keeps getting eaten away at by the kids waking up earlier.

Trying to quit complaining (gossiping, smoking, you name it) but continuing to hang out with people who do.

 

This summer, I’m learning persistence and patience in the garden.  Keep at it. Expect growth of those things you tried to set aside. Take a deep breath and just keep pulling it back out. Calmly. Consistently.

 

God Changes Minds

I change my mind all the time.

I like variety. I learn. I grow. I experience new things. I’m in a different mood.

And my understanding and beliefs change as a result.

All. The. Time.

Most recently, we have been doing some work on our backyard.

Early this spring, we removed a few trees. And the morning the workers came to take the trees down, I thought I wanted the pile in one place.

Today, I want it somewhere else.

I changed my mind.

My initial decision was one that had to be made in the moment.

And at the time, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted.

I also thought I understood how much wood there would be.

Now, I’m the first to admit, I was completely and utterly mistaken.

 

woodpileWhat we were left with when the tree company left was an enormous wood pile.

I didn’t have all the information.

I didn’t understand the scope and breadth and depth of what this pile would be. Or how it would block the view of my barberries and take up the entire first level of our retaining wall.

I hadn’t thought about the best way to store said wood in order to help it cure.

I couldn’t see in that moment the bigger picture.

And now, I’m going to build some muscles moving all of those logs… because now, with more information and some experience, my mind was changed.

 

In our reading from Acts today, Peter changed his mind, too.

Or rather God changed Peter’s mind.

Like me, Peter couldn’t see the big picture.

 

He was living his life as a faithful Jewish man and thought he knew exactly what God was about and what God wants from the people. He presumed to understood the rules of faith.

But his knowledge was limited.

He didn’t see the scope and the breadth and the depth of God’s love for all people.

In the prelude to our scripture reading from Acts this morning, Peter has been sent on a missionary journey to the home of Cornelius… a gentile.

A Gentile is anyone who is not Jewish, someone who was not a part of the family of Israel, someone who was an outsider as far as the faith was concerned.

While the scripture describes Cornelius as a God-worshipper, Gentiles had limits on their participation in the Jewish temple.

Second Temple Model, JerusalemThe temple had many different courts, and the requirements to move further and further into the temple, towards the holy of holies, left many out. The big open area you see in the photo is called the Court of the Gentiles. That was the only part of the temple Gentiles could enter.

They were excluded from the rest because they were unclean.  They were different.  They were not welcome.

But many faithful god-fearing folks like Cornelius continued to show up. They continued worshipping God from those outer courts. In spite of the exclusion, they wanted a relationship with God.

 

And God wanted a relationship with them. So God prepares Peter’s heart for a transformation in thinking. Before God sends Peter to Caesarea and the home of Cornelius, he gives him a vision of the clean and unclean joining together.  Peter receives a vision of a new sort of body of Christ.

Then he is summoned to the home of Cornelius, and although he was not allowed by Jewish custom to enter, he did. He went in and ate with the family and he shared with them the good news of Jesus Christ. And as he preached to Cornelius and his family, the Holy Spirit descends upon them and they receive the gift of faith.

 

Peter’s world has just been turned upside down.  Those he thought were outside of God’s love and power have just had it poured upon them.  And exclaims: “These people have received the Holy Spirit just as we have. Surely no one can stop them from being baptized with water, can they?”

No one could deny their gifts. Water was brought and Cornelius and his whole family were baptized on the spot… they were part of the family of God.

 

When my husband and I decided to take down some trees at our house, we thought we understood the parameters of the proposal. They take down the trees. We keep the mulch and the wood. End of story.

But what exactly are we going to do with all of that wood?

How are we going to store it?

What do we do with the plants that were once in a shady area that now need to be moved?

And what happens to the family of bunnies that has now made their home in the wood pile in its current location?

As soon as a new, unexpected element enters the equation, it is natural that there is some anxiety, some wheel spinning, and chaos.

 

And that is precisely what happened in the aftermath of Peter and Cornelius.

You can take down a tree or two. You can baptize a Gentile family.

But there are going to be repercussions.

Things just won’t be the same.

 

Peter is summoned back to Jerusalem. He is called back to the apostles who heard about what happened and who aren’t so sure they like what has happened.

They start with criticism. They launch into accusations. They read off the rules. I can imagine their frustration growing as they start to wrestle with the implications of what has just happened.

 

The leaders of the early church, like Peter, believed that faith meant one thing, and God was trying to show them it meant something else. But we cling to our traditions, to our rules, to what we know and understand.

I think the number one way God changes our hearts and minds is by helping us experience the world in a different way.

That’s what happened with Peter. God moved him to the right time and place and put Cornelius in his life to give him an undeniable experience of grace and power and Holy Spirit led transformation.

 

But the number two way God changes hearts and minds is by calling those who have had these life-altering experiences to tell their story.

 

The apostles were furious and demanded an explanation.

And Peter gave them one.

 

He told them about his vision.

He told them about how God led him to the house of Cornelius.

He connected what he had experienced of Jesus Christ and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit with what he witnessed first-hand in Caesarea.

In chapter 11, verse 16-17 he testifies: “I remembered the Lord’s words: ‘John will baptize with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ If God gave them the same give he gave us who believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, then who am I? Could I stand in God’s way?”.

 

Seventy five years ago, I probably would not have been welcomed in this pulpit.  As a woman, ordination was out of the question.  A combination of tradition and a patriarchal society and a way of reading the scriptures precluded the church from welcoming women as preachers and pastors.

But here I stand… robed, ordained, my calling from the Holy Spirit confirmed by the church.

At various points throughout our history, faithful folk stood up and exclaimed about women:  These people have received the Holy Spirit… just like we did – How can we stop them from being baptized?  How can we deny them a place at the table?  How can we stop them from being ordained when God has so clearly spoken in their lives?

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism was against women preaching in principle… until he witnessed the Holy Spirit working through the lives of women like Sarah Crosby, Grace Murry, and Hannah Ball.  He relented and licensed them for preaching in the circuits across England.

God changed his mind.

God changed the mind of our church.

God helped us to see a different vision of what the church and our community could be, just as God had done for Peter.

As a young woman, I have always lived in a church that ordained women.  I have always been a part of a church that valued the contributions women made in ministry, in leadership, and in the world.  It has been a given.

But I often wonder where God is going to change our minds next.

 

“I really am learning that God doesn’t show partiality to one group of people over another,” Peter says.

 

When I was in Washington, D.C. last week for a leadership fellows training, the church we spent our days at had welcome signs plastered throughout the building.

 

“We love single people, divorced people, widowed and married people,” it says.

“We love people who have not been to church in ages and those who never miss a Sunday.”

“We love people who are in recovery and those who are still addicted.”

 

The list went on and on, but it reminded me that God shows no partiality to one group of people or another.

God wants to be in relationship with all of us.

With the whole of creation.

With you and me.

With black and white and brown.

With young and old, and gay and straight,

with those struggling with mental health and those who love them.

With life-long Americans and with people who have just arrived in our country.

 

When you start to make a list, all of a sudden the people we are supposed to love and share the good news with starts to overwhelm us.

Like the woodpile in my yard, it truly seems incredible and awesome.

The question that’s before us is: what are we going to do about it?

How will this knowledge change our practice?

And if we are going to let God change our hearts and minds and church, where do we need to start moving around the woodpile to make room for everyone to thrive and find a place here?