Epiphany through the eyes of a servant girl

I have come here today to tell you a story. It’s a story that you think you know… but you don’t. You have only caught a glimpse of the truth. You have a version that has been changed and adapted and sanitized through time. But it’s not the real story…

I have come here today to tell you the story, because I was there. Sure, it was many years ago and I was just a child, but I was there nonetheless.

When I was just a little girl, I lived in a small city with my mom and dad. My father worked with metals and my mother worked in the palace.

Oh, Not for the king though… no, she worked for this crazy band of astronomers who the king had invited to live in the palace. The king wanted to make sure that he paid attention to what was happening in the world around him… so he brought in these seers and astrologers from all over the place to work for him and interpret the stars and other signs.

And my mother worked for them. Well, she cooked for them. They had very strange appetites, since they came from all sorts of different places and so it was a lot of work! Sometimes she had to prepare three different meals all in one night, just so they would each be happy!
Well, one afternoon, my mother came home flushed and hurried and anxious. My father had been hired away and was working far from home on a new temple that was being built. So it was just my mother and I. Only, she came home and started throwing clothes and our bedroll and whatever else she could find into a bag. She cursed the whole time. I didn’t know whether to laugh at her or to cry or to run away because I had no idea what was happening. But in a rush of flurry, she finished her packing and took my hand and off we went.

Evidently, these magoi… the astrologers… magi, is what you call them I think, well, anyways, these magoi had seen a new star rising. They had conferred with one another for many days and weeks until they finally decided the star was the rising of a new king far off to the West.

They marched into the throne room of the palace and demanded an audience with our King. They told him what they had seen and our King was so excited that he wanted them to personally go and seek out this new King and to bring him gifts.

The magoi were up for the adventure and began making plans for their trip. First, and most important, they spent a full week figuring out what the best gifts to take were. Then they hired camels and bought provisions for a very long trip. They hired people to ride with them to protect them from whatever dangers they might find on the road. And, they demanded that all of their servants come along.

These magoi had gotten quite used to their life in the palace. And the King probably wouldn’t have let them make this grand excursion without sending a full entourage anyways… they were going to greet a King after all!

And so, whether she liked it or not, my mother had to go too. And since she couldn’t just leave me home alone and since we had idea when my father would be returning…. I got to go too.

Since I was just a child, there was a lot of excitement about heading out on this journey. I had no idea where we were going – only that it was far from our home. The first day was a blast… by the third day, I was tired of the smell of the camels. By the end of the first week, I was cranky and wanted to go home.

My mother knew this would be a long trip, but there was nothing she could do to ease my homesickness. Until one afternoon she came up with a game for me to play. She knew that the magoi had packed with them precious gifts and so she gave me the task of finding out what each of the gifts were.

The first gift was easy. There was this rather quiet servant name Tajit who always rode in the middle of a caravan on his camel. He was always looking around nervously, as if someone was about to jump out of the bushes and rob them all. And I suppose he had good reason to be nervous because he was carrying one of the gifts. You know how I could tell? He jingled!

Tajit must not have packed his gift very well, because every time his camel took a step there was a small quiet clanking in his packs. I knew something was in there, so I made a point of following him closely, watching every time he opened his packs to check for something.

One afternoon, I walked right up to him and introduced myself. And you know what? It turns out he was pretty nice! Tajit had a little daughter back home who was just my age and so each and every question I had, he was happy to answer. It took me a few days, but I finally worked up the courage to ask what the gift was he was carrying. He motioned me over to his camel, and opened up one of the packs on the side and let me peek in. There inside were brilliant and shiny gold nuggets! Tajit took one out and let me hold it. It glimmered in the sunlight. I was surprised at how heavy they were and immediately felt sorry for the poor camel who had to carry them.

Even as a little girl, I understood the importance of what was in my hand. My father worked with metals after all! He had taken me once to the palace and showed me where his father had helped to form gold into the heads of rams and oxen on the palace walls. This was a precious gift for a mighty king and someday this very gold might be formed and shaped by someone like my own father in a beautiful palace.

Tajit leaned over and whispered… “some of the magi think that we are going to visit a mighty and powerful king… this gold is a gift for one who will rule the nations!”

Gift one down…. Two more to go.

I told my friend Tajit about my quest to discover all three of the gifts, so he gave me my next clue. There was a large woman who always sang songs at our evening campfire who was carrying the second gift.

I made it a point to sit next to this woman – Sari – that night. I had made such quick friends with Tajit, I thought this would be easy. But it turned out, Sari didn’t like little children. She ignored me for a whole week.

But after a whole week of sitting next to her and listening to her sing at night – I started to learn some of the songs she was singing. And I began to sing along. I remember the first time I sang with her she turned and stared at me with a cold and mean glare – but I kept right on singing… and she hrumphfed and went back to making her music. After another week had passed – we could be found at the campfire together every night singing and making harmony.

I could sing with Sari – but I wasn’t quite sure she would let me talk to her yet. I started out by telling her different things that I had seen on the journey that day – a lone eagle flying high above us, a beautiful purple flower… and gradually, Sari started to tell me about her life.

Sari was a priestess in the local temple. She offered sacrifices to the gods and prayed on behalf of the people. She was on this journey because of the gift that she carried.

Without having to ask, one day Sari brought with her to the campfire a small package and opened it before me. Inside was a hard substance, that I had never seen before. It was shaped into a long narrow cylinder. Sari took a coal from the fire and touched it to this rod and after a few moments, it started to smolder. Rich, amazing smells began to arise with the smoke and they were carried up to the heavens.

I looked at Sari speechless with wide eyes and she told me what it was for. When we pray, she said, “we light this incense and our prayers rise up to heaven.” Then she told me that in the place we are going, this incense is used outside of the tents and temple where their God resides. She said that this frankincense was the gift for a priestly ruler – one who would have a close connection to the God of his people.

The next week, I found the third gift… but it wasn’t on purpose. A man had died in our caravan and as we were trying to what to do, Melchid, another servant, demanded that we use some of the gifts we had brought to give the man a proper burial.

He pulled out a jar of myrrh and as we laid the servant to rest – there on the side of the road, some of the costly myrrh was gently placed between the layers of linen wrappings.

Sari helped to lead prayer and the servant’s body was placed in a hollow on the side of the mountain and covered with stones.

I wondered what kind of a gift this must be – why would such a thing be given to a king? I listened among the people that night as we ate and heard tell that some of the magoi thought that we were going to worship a healer – someone who would save his people from great tragedy. But others had a strange feeling about this star and this new king… they sensed some kind of sorrow in the future of this ruler.

Having completed my quest, the journey became much duller. Day after day we traveled. The road was very, very, very long.

Finally, we arrived outside of the city of Jerusalem and came to the palace of King Herod. A few of the magoi were chosen as ambassadors and made the climb up the steps of the palace… and the rest of us anxiously waited outside.

And we waited, and waited, and waited. I wondered if I would get to see this new king myself! How exciting would that be?!

After what seemed like an eternity, the magoi came back outside with news. There was no new king here in Jerusalem. Our magoi consulted with the Jewish scribes and they came back with word that we should try to look for the king in Bethlehem. Silly Magoi – they never really knew where they were going all along.

We arrived just outside of Bethlehem at dark. How in a town full of people would we find a king? And why was he here and not in Jerusalem. There were whispers that the king was a newly born child who would one day rule this country. The mystery of it all was very exciting and I could hardly wait with anticipation.

Suddenly everyone was looking up and in the skies I could finally see what we had been following all along. There shining faintly above us was a star. I could see it with my own eyes.

It appeared to rest above one of the houses.

We quiety trodded through the streets with our caravan. Boy were we a sight. I could see little faces peering out of windows at the camels and our wonderfully dressed Magoi.

Stopped in front of a house… it was small, tiny really. A few of the Magoi thought they should go in and see what was going on.

They came back out and were speechless… a few others rushed in and then a few more and they all came back out and had a pow-wow there in the street. I snuck up to the front of the caravan where I could hear better.

This king that they had discovered was only a baby – not more than two years old. But there was something about him – something that amazed them. They finally decided to take in a portion of each of the gifts. They wanted to see what kind of a ruler this child would be, so they decided to let him choose. If he chose the gold – he would be a mighty ruler… king of all nations. If he chose the frankincense – he would be a priestly ruler… a servant of God. If he chose the mhyrr – he would be a healer who restored his nation.

They were nervous and went in quietly. They came out stunned and empty handed.

The child had chosen all three gifts. He was a king… but he was a priest… and he would save his people.

The journey home was long – but the entire way I pondered what would happen to this child… how would he accomplish all of these things? What would his future be?

For many years I thought about that boy child in Bethlehem. The Romans continued to rule in Judea and there was no word of a new king arising… but then again – word didn’t travel very fast in those days.

Then one day, I heard word of a young man named, Jesus, who some said was the Son of God. He spoke and people listened. They came out in droves to hear him and some were healed with his touch. But he made others anxious and they had him killed by the Romans. That should have been the end of the story… but there were whispers and rumors that he lived again… that he still lives… and that he truly is a king… and a priest… and came to save his people.

Amen and Amen.

Quiet Christmas Morning

This has been a really difficult Advent and Christmas season for me.  It is the time of light and hope and joy and peace, but I’m not quite there yet.

I want to be there.  I long for the coming of true light and true hope-filled promises and true joy and true peace.  I guess I did much better in the Advent time of waiting and preparation than I am on this Christmas morning.   It’s quiet here, except for the wind rushing through the trees.  And it seems a little lonely and sad.  But for some reason, that suits how my spirit is.  I am immensely grateful that I’m not surrounded at this moment by the chaos of presents being opened and sqeals of joy.  That doesn’t exactly fit with my picture of the first Christmas anyways.

No, on that first Christmas… that first time that we celebrated the birth of this holy child… the first time God was worshipped in human form… was (to translate a little)… was in a dirty barn.  At least that’s how the story goes in Luke.  And it was just Mary and Joseph and the sheep and goats and cattle and birds in the rafters.  It probably smelled like shit… not evergreen. 

In the middle of the night, some shepherds rushed in.  They came from the fields and were dusty – but hey they fit right in.  And they walked in with their lanterns and sat down and told their story.  I imagine Mary and Joseph were terrified at first and though they were about to be robbed…. and then were amazed… and comforted that they weren’t crazy… that God really did have a purpose for this special child. 

And then the shepherds left. And it was quiet again.  Just Mary and Joseph and the Christ Child…. and the sheep and goats and cattle.

We don’t hear about angels visiting the holy family that first night.  We don’t hear about any other guests.  The wisemen probably didn’t appear until a year or two later.  It was on this night that the star appeared and they first started their quest. 

No, it was quiet, and dark, and probably cold and still.  Worship was a story of glorious revelation and quiet adoration of an infant.  Maybe some bread was shared. And when morning came – when the hustle and bustle of the world began again and that village woke up… I bet no one had any idea what had taken place. 

Mary and Joseph started over in Bethlehem… found a place to stay… and after some time had passed and the child started crawling and then teetering around some crazy dudes from the east showed up…. but that’s a story for another day.

My prayers are with all of you who are busy and chaotic this morning.  My prayers are with all of you who are alone for the first time in many years.  My prayers are with you who are always alone on this morning.  May we each find peace and joy and hope and love and light in some quiet corner of this morning.  And may we remember that first Christmas.

Praying for Peace

I’ve been thinking a lot about peace lately.

I’ve been praying a lot FOR peace lately.

While this isn’t a family that is facing conflict – many of you know that there is conflict in my family. I am wrestling with the distractions that it brings and must admit that there are days it is all I think about. I wish that there could be some kind of reconciliation or forgiveness between family members, but at the same time I deal with my own hurts and betrayals and wonder if I can forgive. My desire for my grace and healing and yet my holding of grudges and pain are incompatible. They war within me. And all I can do right now is pray for peace.
And then there is another struggle between war and peace that is a reality for us all.

A couple of weeks ago, our president spoke before the nation and an audience at West Point to announce a surge in military personnel in Afghanistan. This on the heels of being named the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize Laureate.

The two are in so many ways incompatible. From his acceptance speech in Oslo, Obama himself stated:

Still, we are at war, and I am responsible for the deployment of thousands of young Americans to battle in a distant land. Some will kill. Some will be killed. And so I come here with an acute sense of the cost of armed conflict – filled with difficult questions about the relationship between war and peace, and our effort to replace one with the other.
Some in this congregation have relatives who are serving our country right now in other nations. Others of you have friends and neighbors that they have said goodbye to far too many times. Many of you have lived through wars and have the memories of sacrifice and bloodshed ingrained deep within your souls.

The reflections of Steve Goodier have been very helpful to me this week and he includes the letter of a man who was serving on a ship anchored in Tokyo Bay in September 1945. Navy chief radioman Walter G. Germann was writing to his son to tell him that the formal surrender of Japan would soon be signed. “When you get a little older you may think war to be a great adventure take it from me, its the most horrible thing ever done by (humans),” he wrote. “Ill be home this Christmas…”

That man knew – as so many of you do – that peace is hard to come by. And even though he would be coming home for Christmas to a world at peace – he wasn’t at all sure if the ends justified the means. He, like many who serve our nation, probably came home broken on the inside – at war with himself as he tried to justify his actions in battle and the horrors he had seen.

I think of the letter of that man, who saw the day of peace dimming brightly in his future, and then I think of the faces of all of the young men and women who were in the audience for President Obama’s speech at West Point – men and women for whom the future is cloudy.

There is not one among us who doesn’t long for peace. And we are unsure whether what we are doing as a nation will get us there. We pray it will. We hope that peace and stability will come quickly in Afghanistan and Pakistan. We want our sons and daughters and sisters and brothers and fathers and mothers and neighbors to come home. We watch another Christmas come and go without peace.

As Eleanor Roosevelt wrote at Christmas in 1942, “I could no more say to you a Merry Christmas without feeling a catch in my throat than I could fly to the moon!” We look around us at families with a loved one missing and we recognize that as long as there is war – there will not be peace.

This week, I read from Luke’s gospel the story of Mary going to greet her cousin. I was amazed with how Elizabeth recognized that the child in her cousin’s womb was the longing of all Israel. She was absolutely overjoyed…. and in her joy and in Mary’s song they recognized that the promise from Micah – the promise of the one of peace – was being fulfilled.

Our hearts in contrast… are jaded and worn and disappointed.

The strange counterpoint of the Nobel Peace Prize and our current wars that tells us we cannot look for peace to come from any national leader.

There was no triumphant singing after Obama’s West Point speech… and while there may have been music in Oslo at the Nobel ceremonies, Obama’s own speech tempered any bit of joy and celebration. It has been a sobering reminder that they are not our saviors and that true peace only comes through Christ. No matter the obeisance paid to our president, he is not the one we are waiting for. He, nor any other leader within our world, is not our savior. He is not the Prince of Peace.

No, We are waiting for another.

The prophet Micah describes this one in this way:

And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God. And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace. (Micah 5:4-5)

Mary and Elizabeth and the child in Elizabeth’s womb cannot contain their joy as they encounter this promise of God – yet unborn. They have been longing and waiting and hoping for so long.

As Elizabeth greets and praises her cousin, she exclaims: Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.

Blessed is she who not only believed in a miraculous birth… but blessed is she who believes that this child is the fulfillment of what God has promised.

Blessed are we who hope and pray and wait and believe in what God has promised.

I know that it is hard to do. We live in a world of cynicism and violence, a world of confusion and hatred.

And yet, we come together as people of faith and we light the fourth candle on the advent wreath because we dare to believe that the Prince of Peace will reign.

We dare to hope that there will be day when nation will not rise up against nation.

We dare to wait for the day when the powerful are brought down from their thrones and the lowly are lifted up.

Steve Goodier, also tells the story of a monument in Hiroshimas Peace Park. This particular monument is in memory of a young girl who died from radiation-induced lukemia after the dropping of the bomb. After hearing a legend that a person who makes 1000 cranes will have their wish granted, she tried to fold 1000 paper cranes. As Steve tells it, “with each crane she wished that she would recover from her illness. She folded 644 cranes before she left this life.” The monument in memory of this young girl named Sadako reads: This is our cry, This is our prayer, Peace in the world.

Now as much as ever, our cry is for peace in the world.

That might be peace in Afghanistan, or peace between you and your neighbors. It might be peace among loved ones, or peace between you and your inner thoughts.
In this season of Advent, we stand in the face of war and suffering and distress and we look for the coming of peace. We stand like Elizabeth, pregnant with hope, that God’s promises are real.
The reality that we long for this and every Advent – The miracle that we wait for this and every Christmas – is that we might wake up one morning and run outside to discover that God is with us – Emmanuel – and that the Prince of Peace rules the earth.

the one we are waiting for

A couple of weeks ago, our president spoke before the nation and an audience at West Point to announce a surge in military personnel in Afghanistan.  This on the heels of being named the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize Laureate.  And only a week before Barack Obama accepted the prize in Oslo.

The two are in so many ways incompatible. From his speech, Obama himself stated:
Still, we are at war, and I am responsible for the deployment of thousands of young Americans to battle in a distant land. Some will kill. Some will be killed. And so I come here with an acute sense of the cost of armed conflict – filled with difficult questions about the relationship between war and peace, and our effort to replace one with the other.

Some in my congregation have relatives who are serving our country.  Others have friends that they have said goodbye to far too many times. Many in my congregation have lived through wars and have the memories of sacrifice and bloodshed ingrained deep within their souls.
There is not one among us who doesn’t long for peace. And we are unsure if what we are doing as a nation will get us there.  We pray it will.  We hope that peace and stability will come quickly. We want our sons and daughters and sisters and brothers and fathers and mothers and neighbors to come home.

But I think what the counterpoint of the Nobel Peace Prize and our current wars tells us is that we should not look for peace from a national leader. No matter the obesience paid to our president, he is not the one we are waiting for.  He, nor any other leader within our world today, is our savior.  He is not the Prince of Peace.

We are waiting for another.

The prophet Micah describes him in this way:

And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God. And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace. (Micah 5:4-5)

Mary and Elizabeth and the child in Elizabeth’s womb cannot contain their joy as they encounter this promise of God – yet unborn.  They have been longing and waiting and hoping for so long.

As Elizabeth greets and praises her cousin, she exclaims: Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.

Blessed is she who not only believed in a miraculous birth… but blessed is she who believes that this child is the fulfillment of what God has promised. Blessed are we who hope and pray and wait and believe in what God has promised.

In a world of cynicism and violence, a world of confusion and hatred, we still dare to believe that the Prince of Peace will reign. We dare to hope that nation will not rise up against nation.  We dare to wait for the day when the powerful are brought down from their thrones and the lowly are lifted up.

Steve Goodier tells the story of a monument in Hiroshimas Peace Park. It is in memory of a young girl who died from radiation-induced lukemia after the dropping of the bomb and who tried to fold 1000 paper cranes before her death.  The monument reads:  This is our cry, This is our prayer, Peace in the world.

Now as much as ever, our cry is for peace in the world.  And in this season of Advent, we stand in the face of war and suffering and we look for the coming of peace.  We accept nothing short of peace.  And we firmly believe that one is coming that will make our prayers a reality.

Hope or Despair? Birth Pangs of the Kingdom

As I started exploring and reading our texts for this week, I was instantly transported back to my best friend’s kitchen – 1997. I was a sophomore in high school and my family had recently started going to church. I knew the basics of the Christian faith, but was becoming aware of how muc more there was to the bible.

The late 1990’s was a time of religious fervor – at least as far as I remember them. Mega churches were just starting to be noticed, the Left Behind Series of books were on everyone’s reading lists, and in my high school bible studies and prayer meetings were popping up all over the place. Oh – and the year 2000 was on the horizon and no one quite knew what to expect.

For the most part, I was a typical high schooler and oblivious to what was going on in the rest of the world. Living in rural Iowa, that scope of vision was even smaller. So as a new Christian, sitting in my best friend’s kitchen, my entire world was rocked when my friends and One of their moms started talking about end times prophecy.

I can’t remember why we started talking about it, but before I knew it they had pulled out these time lines and charts and bibles and were explaining to me what order things were going to happen for Christ to come back again. They talked with such certainty, such confidence, and I remember feeling nothing but lost.

In fact, my stomach turned as visions of the world being destroyed passed before my eyes. I remember feeling clammy when I thought about billions of people dying in the tribulation. I was terrified by descriptions of the seven seals being opened.

Perhaps most of all, as I sat on that kitchen stool, I remember how unprepared I felt. My friends knew all of this information – but more importantly, they believed and were confident in the face of impending doom! I, on the other hand, was uncomfortable, had questions I was afraid to ask, and if they were right, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t going to be among the faithful. That assurance they felt that told them they would escape the troubles… yeah, I didn’t have that.

I mostly avoided talking about it with my friends, but I nearly gave up on Christianity after a series of those conversations. I started reading the Left Behind books and I was so upset by them I stopped a few books in. The picture of God that was presented by them and by all of this prophecy just didn’t match up with the God I had met in my United Methodist youth group. There we talked about love and grace and forgiveness and becoming a new creation… and all I could see in what my friends were so sure of was judgment and destruction.

In some ways – we get that same kind of feeling from our gospel text this morning. We are told to be alert at all times so that we have the strength to escape from all of these things that are about to take place. We are told that people will faint from fear of what is to come because the heavens will be shaken. I hear a lot of doom and gloom in these few passages that come to us from the gospel of Luke.

But I hear these words very differently today than I did ten years ago. After we got past the Y2K scare and I started reading the Bible more, I realized that the sure and certain scenarios presented on those time lines in my friend’s kitchen weren’t the only possibility presented to us in the Bible.

As we have talked about in Sunday School recently – I started to see that Revelation isn’t a schedule for the apocalypse but a book of hope in secret code for a community being persecuted. I have now read just as many verses in Paul’s letters that talk about not knowing what is going to happen in the future, as I have the ones that seem to have the inside scoop. And – perhaps more importantly – I have started seeing the scriptures as a whole, and not in isolated verses.

When we look at the entire scope of the scriptures – we see the story of a God who created us out of love and has been continually yearning for relationship with us. We see the story of a God whose response to our endless denial was to come and be born in our midst. We see the story of a God who lived among us to show us the path of the righteous, and who died so that we could follow him. We see the story of a God who is not interested in scrapping this world and starting over, but who re-creates and redeems and transforms even the heavens and the earth.

Read in light of that story – these verses in Luke sound very different. People will faint and tremble not because terrible things are looming – but because they THINK terrible things are looming… they don’t understand what is happening… they don’t understand the signs.

About a year ago – my husband and I had some of our own signs to decipher. We go over to his sister’s house every Friday night to have dinner with their family. It is a wonderful time to eat good food and play games and hang out with our niece and nephew. A couple of weeks went by and I started to notice that my sister-in-law had stopped having her usual glass of wine with dinner. Then I noticed that she was eating less and less at our meals and was tired and seemed to be losing weight. And I started to get slightly worried, because I didn’t understand what was happening. Was she sick? Was there something that we should be concerned about?

And then the announcement came – Bevin was pregnant! She had stopped eating and was losing weight because she had such terrible morning sickness. She was tired because there was new life growing inside of her!

I had completely misread the signs.

If we go back a little bit further in Luke, chapter 21 this morning, Jesus is trying to tell his disciples not to be afraid by what might come next – by what appears to be happening around them.

They ask him for a simple answer – when are these things going to happen? How will we know? And in response he tells them not to listen to those people who say that the time is near. He tells them not to be afraid by the signs of the times. Or as the Message translation puts these verses: “When you hear of wars and uprisings, keep your head and don’t panic. This is routine history and no sign of the end … nation will fight against nation… over and over. Huge earthquakes will occur in various places. There will be famines. You’ll think at times that the very sky is falling.”

But those are just the outside symptoms. They are similar to the things I was seeing in my sister-in-law: weight loss and not eating and I thought something was wrong because I misinterpreted the signs.

Jesus goes on to talk about a particular time when it will seem as if all is lost, or as the Message bible puts it – “everything will come to a head.” And at that moment – when things appear to be their worst, when all appears hopeless – that is when the Son of Man – that is when Jesus will be seen.

I think all of this would be a whole lot easier to understand if Luke didn’t leave out and important detail. I think he left it out because Mark and Luke have almost identical passages. If you look at Luke chapter 21 and Mark chapter 13 – there are many similarities except for one… after Jesus reminds them that there will continue to be wars and natural disasters he says: This is but the beginning of the birth pangs. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

I was with a group of pastors a few weeks ago in Indianapolis and we were reading this exact same passage in Mark. One woman spoke up and said – I’ve had five children… I know exactly what Jesus is talking about!!! It always seems to be the worst, it always seems like you just won’t survive, right before your child is born. That’s when the pain is the worst and that’s because you are growing and stretching and waiting for this new life to emerge. That’s a really different way to understand this passage.

Paul talks about the groaning of creation, he talks about the birth pangs and waiting for redemption and if we think about God’s Kingdom being born in our midst, its going to take a little bit of change and transformation. Things will be shaken up a bit just like when birth happens in our lives.

We could look around us at the melting of the icecaps and tsunamis and tornadoes and the strange weather we have had this past year and we could be worried about the end. We could look at the violence in our own community – much less in the world – in this past year and think that we are on a downhill slide into immorality and destruction. We could look at the wars we are engaged in – especially in the middle east – as signs that all is lost… as the impending day of judgment and doom.

Or we can listen to the scriptures. In our passage today, it says Stand up and raise our heads because what is coming is not destruction – but redemption. What is being born in our midst is the new creation.

Today is the first Sunday of the Christian year.

Today is the start of a season of hope in the midst of despair, the season of light when everything appears to be dark.

If last week we prayed for Christ the King to come on earth – then today is the day that we start looking for the Kingdom.

Today is the day we look around and see the signs of the kingdom everywhere. We see it in the hunger that young people have to understand and learn more about who God is. We see it in the hunger we experience as we gather to worship and pray. We see it in that spark of hope that is in our hearts – even though we could look at the world and think radically different things.

I think in many ways this church understands that because two years ago you were faced with a tough decision. You looked around and church attendance was declining and you had to decide if you were going to go to part time or stay with a full time pastor. Some churches in that situation would have said, well – we are pretty much hopeless.

But you said that something new is being born in our midst – and we are going to wait and see what happens. That’s why we light this candle today. We light this candle remembering that hope is just around the corner that the promises of God are almost in our reach. That all of the groaning and birth pangs around us are merely getting us ready for what is to come. There is no fear to be had. There is no trembling on this day. Because God is coming near to us. God is coming and so let us stand up and raise up our heads and await the glory of our King. Amen and Amen.

Where is the Kingdom?

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be they name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…
Thy kingdom come on earth…
That little tiny phrase is one of the most subversive and radical things that we can say as Christian people. And we say it every week. Too often, we rush over the words, practically tripping over them to get to the end, because we know the Lord’s Prayer so well.

We know the Lord’s Prayer – we know how to say it – we know the comfort that it brings to our lives – and yet do we really know WHAT we are saying?

Thy kingdom come on earth.

Early Christians were accused of terrible things by those who didn’t understand their worshipping practices – but something they were correctly accused of was sedition and treason. They openly confessed in the face of an empire that they belonged to the Kingdom of God, that their citizenship was in heaven. And some were willing to die rather than to worship or honor an earthly king.

They got these radical ideas from the gospels. As Daniel Clendenin reminds us:

“The birth of Jesus signaled that God would “bring down rulers from their thrones” (Luke 1:52). In Mark’s gospel the very first words that Jesus spoke announced that “the kingdom of God is at hand” (1:15). John’s gospel takes us to the death of Jesus, and the political theme is the same. Jesus was dragged to the Roman governor’s palace for three reasons, all political: “We found this fellow subverting the nation, opposing payment of taxes to Caesar, and saying that He Himself is Christ, a King” (Luke 23:1–2).”

Thy kingdom come on earth.

In our gospel text this morning, that is where we find Jesus – standing in Pilate’s headquarters, and being asked a plain and simple question: Are you the King of the Jews?

When Jesus gets tricky, responding with questions instead of answers, Pilate finally comes out and says it…. I have no idea why you are here – What have you done?

When you think about the big picture, It’s almost a laughable question… asking the King of Kings and Lord of Lords why a little provincial governor should be worried about him? Asking the one who is and who was and who is to come if he is a threat to the empire.

Jesus responds the best way he can. My kingdom is not from this world. If it was, then those who followed me would be fighting tooth and nail to protect me and keep me from being handed over to you. But my kingdom is not from here.

Thy kingdom come on earth.

We know how the Roman and Jewish leaders responded to that statement. Jesus was mocked and beaten and crucified.

Had he been just a revolutionary… had his kingdom originated in the stable at Bethlehem… had his goals merely been overthrowing the Roman occupation of Israel… that would have been the end.

But his kingdom is not from here.

His kingdom is not something that can be mapped out on a piece of paper. Its borders cannot be easily drawn. And contrary to much of our contemporary sentiment, it is not a place that we go to after we die.

No, we pray every week: Thy kingdom come on earth.

The Kingdom of God may not be from here… but it certainly is for here.

For the last two thousand years, Christians have tried to bring the Kingdom of God to bear in their lives. There are times when we have been wildly successful – and there are times when we have failed miserably. There are times when in the name of Christ our King we have brought hope and joy and peace to the lives of our brothers and sisters. And there have been times when we have subverted Christ as King for our own purposes to seek power and money and land at the cost of our brothers and sisters.

If we are going to be daring enough to pray for the kingdom to come on earth – we had better understand what we are praying for.

In the Kingdom of God – the first shall be last and the last shall be first.

In the Kingdom of God – you love God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength.

In the Kingdom of God – you love your neighbor as your self.

In the Kingdom of God – you forgive one another 70×70 times.

In the Kingdom of God – our ruler is the one who gets down on his hands and knees to wash our feet like a servant.

In the Kingdom of God – the widow and the orphan and the stranger are honored guests at the table.

I pray week after week for that kingdom of God to come…

But there are a lot of days when I listen to the news or read a story in the paper and I lament how far away from the Kingdom we really are. I want to be in that place where love and grace and mercy rule – rather than money and influence. I want to make my home in a land where nations stop rising up against nations and don’t learn war anymore. I want to go there – to where the Kingdom of God has taken root.

But where is that place? Where can we find it?

Even living on this side of the resurrection we see only glimpses.

One particular glimpse came when I heard a friend tell about having communion with Christians from Mexico. He was on a trip to the borderlands between our two countries and Christians from the United States and Mexico met on the border to worship with one another.

They sang songs of praise to God in their different languages. They prayed to the One who rules all nations. And they did so without ever being able to see one anothers face.

You see, there was a wall between these two groups of people. A wall so high they couldn’t see across. A wall that human hands had built. But they gathered in that place to worship a God whose Kingdom has no borders. Their songs and voices carried over the walls. When time came to share communion, they lobbed huge chunks of bread over that wall so that they could share of one common loaf.

Thy kingdom come on earth.

Those believers at the border didn’t wait for the Kingdom of God to be a fully present reality – they just let it take root in their hearts. They invited Christ in as King and then lived their lives accordingly. .

After all, that is the kingdom described in our reading from Revelation… The One who loves us and frees us from our sins by his blood made US to be a kingdom.

In, “Listening to your Life,” (page 304), Fred Beuchner writes:

“…the Kingdom of God in the sense of holiness, goodness, beauty is as close as breathing and is crying out to be born within ourselves and within the world; we would know that the kingdom of God is what all of us hunger for above all other things even when we don’t know its name or realize that it’s what we’re starving to death for. The Kingdom of God is where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it at those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know. We catch sight of it when at some moment of crisis a strength seems to come to us that is greater than our own strength. The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it.”

We are homesick for it and yet it is as close as our next breath.

Thy Kingdom come on earth.

Thy Kingdom, Oh Jesus, come on earth and be born in my heart… transform my heart.

Thy Kingdom, Oh Lord, come on earth as we are all awakened to your call.

Thy Kingdom, Oh Holy Lord, come on this earth and pull us beyond the borders we have artificially made.

Thy Kingdom, Oh Lord and King, come on this earth and root all of our actions in the care of your creation.

Thy Kingdom, Radiant King, come on earth and help us to show that love and compassion are stronger weapons than all of the guns in the world.

Thy Kingdom, Blessed Ruler, come on earth and let us find the boldness to feed and clothe and heal our brothers and sisters without waiting for the government to help.

Thy Kingdom, Glorious King, come on earth and make us uncomfortable. Don’t let us be content with peace in our hearts until your peace truly reigns over the nations.

Thy Kingdom, Ancient of Days, come on earth and turn our allegiance from brand names and politicians and flags and nations to the one who is and who was and who is to come.

Thy Kingdom, Crucified God, come on earth and help us to imagine and embody life on earth, here and now, as though you are king and the rulers of this world were not. Help us to imagine our lives if you truly ruled the nations and not Barak Obama, or Wall Street, or Kim Jong-il, or Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, or Queen Elizabeth.

As Daniel Clendenin rightly says – “every aspect of our personal and communal life would experience a radical reversal. The political, economic and social subversions would be almost endless – peace-making instead of war mongering, liberation not exploitation, sacrifice rather than subjugation, mercy not vengeance, care for the vulnerable instead of privileges for the powerful, generosity instead of greed, humility rather than hubris, embrace rather than exclusion, etc. The ancient Hebrews had a marvelous word for this, shalom, or human well-being.,”

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Hebrews Part 4: Jesus the Priest?

I. Introduction
A. Talking about who Jesus is – Christology and Atonement
B. [SLIDE] Already the book of Hebrews has told us some things about who Jesus is. He was with God before the foundations of the earth. He is the Son of God. And for a time, he was made a little lower than the angels – took human form and lived among us. He took on our life and because of what he has done for us, we are now children of God.
C. [SLIDE] We recalled how easily we forget what God has done for us. Like the Hebrew people in the desert, we wander and grumble and always want something else than the rest, the grace, that has been prepared for us. But Christ cuts through all of our excuses and denials and speaks to our heart, shows us the right path, if only we are willing to listen.
D. The answer begins with chapter 4 verse 14. Jesus is the great, high priest and we are invited to approach the throne of grace with boldness to find mercy and grace in time of need.
E. [SLIDE] Last week we did some background work and looked at different ways that we understand what Jesus did on the cross – go over them quickly
F. [SLIDE] This week, we are going to go even deeper. We are going to move on to some of the harder stuff – the meat, instead of the milk.

II. [SLIDE] What does Hebrews in particular have to say?

The author is writing to a bunch of Jewish Christians – they are people who have grown up their entire lives sitting in the synagogue listening to teachers read out of the Torah. They have made countless visits to Jerusalem to the temple to worship and sacrifice. But now, these people are also Christian. And they are having a hard time putting together the two parts of their lives – their old temple worship and their new faith in Jesus. And so he uses the ways God has spoken to us in the past to show how Jesus is the way that God is speaking in our future.

A key way that he does this is represented by this image right here. Does anyone know what this is? The ark of the covenant! This would have been located in the midst of the temple as the Jews came to Jerusalem to worship and to offer sacrifices. So when we hear in 4:14 – approach the throne of grace with boldness to find mercy… this is literally the mercy seat, where the grace of God is received.

Other important point – copies and shadows of the heavenly things.

III. Three main roles of Jesus as Prophet, Priest & King [SLIDE] –

A. [SLIDE] Jesus as Prophet (vs 1:1-4)
1). You think you had prophets in Israel… well Jesus is a true prophet.
2). Restores our knowledge of God’s will for our lives
3). Messenger of God’s true will – Announcement, message of deliverance
4). AND – Jesus is THE WORD
5). SLIDE] Gives authentic picture of God’s work of creation and redemption

B. [SLIDE] Jesus as Priest
1). What is the role of the priest in Israel? Think back to the three atonements… satisfaction, return of the righteous order
2). Mediation between God and humans
3). Why is Jesus a better priest? Priests die – Jesus doesn’t = all time; High Priest only one allowed into the holiest of holies sinned & had to cleanse himself – Jesus doesn’t. High Priest offered blood of goats and bulls and ashes – but Jesus offers his own blood – without blemish to purify our hearts.
4). Importance of Melchizadek
5). Jesus once for all.

C. Jesus as King
1). David as King, but also Melchizadek as King (of righteousness and peace)
2). Reign of God – restoration of our humanity and place in the community
3). New covenant…

IV. Conclusion

In light of all of these things, the writer of Hebrews reminds us: 19 Therefore, my friends,* since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, 20by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), 21and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. 23Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. 24And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, 25not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

This idea of encouragement is especially important, because there is also an idea in Hebrews that once we have been cleansed from our sin – once that sacrifice is made, that’s it. We get one chance. If we continue in our sin – then we are subject to the judgment. Next week we will talk about how that challenge – to live without sin, to live in the faith is carried out.

what we owe God…

I’ve been thinking a lot about atonement theories as we journey through the book of Hebrews in worship.
Anselm’s understanding of atonement says that we owe an infinite debt to God because we have marred God’s honor.  Christ comes and pays that infiinite debt for us.  All fine and dandy. Thank you Jesus.
But in response, we often talk in the church about how much we owe Jesus for what he did for us.  We owe our entire lives in gratitude.

Does that just replace one kind of infinite debt with another?

I’m seeing that in Hebrews, there very much is more of an understanding of restoration of righteousness involved in the atonement.  The Hebraic understanding of atoning sacrifice is meant to restore God’s righteousness, set things right again.  And because we screw up so many times, we have multiple needs to seek atonement.  It’s not an infinite debt kind of thing, but a continual need for small re-alignments.  What makes Jesus so great, the High Priest, is that he can offer one sacrifice, himself, for all of us, for all time, for all of the multiple small and big sins and transgressions of our lives. The righteous order of the universe is cosmically shifted and balanced.

That’s mostly how I understand it… but then there is the passage in chapter 6 that talks about how when we backslide, we crucify Christ yet again… so maybe I’m off on that insight.