Joseph – Salvaged Faith

The Spirit of Kindness

Posted on June 18, 2017Leave a comment

One afternoon when I was serving the church in Marengo, a young woman walked into the church and asked to use the telephone.

Not a problem, I said.

We talked for a bit and I learned she had just been released from the county jail, was 80 miles from home, and no one was coming to get her. She finally got a hold of a friend or a neighbor… someone she thought might help and was chewed out over the phone. She hung up in frustration.

And so I asked if I could give her a ride. She was seven months pregnant and needed to get home. We got in my car and headed out. And on the way out the door, she asked if she could have one of the bibles on my shelf.

As we drove, we talked about our lives and stopped for food. We talked a little bit about church – but only enough to learn that she had never found one that had felt like home. She had dreams that she wanted to fulfill… but also was raising kids by herself and had put her goals on hold. But she was going home. And for the moment – that was all that was important.

An outsider might look on that situation and see a random act of kindness. Going out of your way to do something nice for a complete stranger. But what I did on Monday morning was far from a random act… and this young woman was far from being a stranger.

Each week this summer, we are exploring how the Holy Spirit moves in our lives and provides what we need for any situation. Today’s gift of the Spirit is kindness – and so we are going to wrestle with where it comes from and what it looks like, in part through the story of Joseph.

When Joseph finds himself sold into slavery in Egypt, he is purchased by Potiphar, a very important man and an official of the Pharaoh. It is like he was sent to work for one of our government’s cabinet officials.

In Paul’s letter to Titus, he writes about Christians who find themselves living under the authority of government officials. He tells Titus, “remind them to submit to rulers and authorities. They should be obedient and ready to do every good thing. They shouldn’t speak disrespectfully to anyone, but they should be peaceful, kind, and show complete courtesy toward everyone.” (Titus 3:1-2) Paul reminds Titus that it is God’s kindness and love that has saved us so that we can do these things.

The word that Paul uses here for kindness, chrestotes, describes a sort of temperament that is respectful and helpful without expecting anything in return. Rick Renner describes this attitude “being adaptable to the needs of others.”

Adaptable might be the best way to describe Joseph.

When sold into slavery, he tried to figure out what he could do to best please his master Potiphar. He served him with respect. Respect – even to the point of denying the advances of his master’s wife.

When that got him in trouble… Joseph adapted. His new home was the jail. His new task was to be the best prisoner he could be. And his willingness to be obedient and courteous put him in good favor with the jailor. Joseph was promoted in the prison system and was put in charge of the other prisoners.

And although he was there unjustly… and although he had no reason to treat the other prisoners with respect, he did. He cared for those other prisoners and did what he could to help them.

Which means that when the royal cupbearer and baker are thrown into jail… Joseph is the same person that he was the day before… he treats them with the same respect he would have treated anyone else in that prison. And his kindness eventually gets him out of that jail and in front of Pharaoh.

In Paul’s letter to Titus, we see that kindness is being ready for every good work. In that sense, it is not random at all, but an intentionally willingness to let God use you in every moment.

Here in Iowa, we are really good at being nice, but kindness is not just being nice or saying nice things… The Holy Spirit empowers us to live out a spirit of kindness so that we are ready to act on behalf of another person.

Kindness is always looking for the next person that you can bless.

Kindness is seeing others not as competition or as obstacles to your success – but as recipients of your grace.

The people who enter your life are not strangers… but they are children of God. The Hebrew word for kindness, Khesed describes how we should behave when we have a commitment to another person. And because we have a relationship with God, we have an obligation to love and care for every person we meet. It doesn’t matter if they are beneath you or the very kings and rulers and presidents of your nations. Every single one of their lives matter and the spirit of kindness urges us to look out for their best interests.

Last week, a number of us from Immanuel attended our Iowa Annual Conference. Our theme for this year is about being difference makers. Throughout our work and our worship, we heard stories of how people of the United Methodist Church are making a difference all across our state and received encouragement to come back to our churches to make a difference in our own communities.

Friends of Immanuel, you already have been difference makers. We go out in mission to make a difference at places like CFUM and under the bridges with the homeless here in Des Moines. We put together kits that make a difference in the lives of people all across this world. In your personal lives, you are part of service organizations that are making a difference for people far and wide. And before our service is over today, we will commission the Bell Tour, who have turned their musical offerings into service and who share God’s love with people who are lonely through the gift of a teddy bear or doll or stuffed animal.

And that is because the spirit of kindness is flowing through this place. We believe that God has called us, in Christ, to live lives of love and service and prayer. We believe that God is sending us outside these walls to bring healing and hope to broken people and places. We are ready for every good work.

One of the ways we have tried to live out that service this year has been through our 5th Sunday Service projects. In January, we put together care packages for some of our local police departments, in gratitude for their service and as a way of reaching out in love after the loss of some of our local police officers. We wanted to bring healing in the midst of their grief and we continue to pray for them.

At the end of April, we put together May baskets for our neighbors and our homebound folks. Those small offerings of love were a good work, a blessing, that we hoped might bring healing to those who were lonely.

We have another fifth Sunday coming up at the end of July but as we have been reflecting on what it means to go out and serve others, what it means to be ready for every good work and to act on behalf of others, and what it means to be open to where the Holy Spirit is sending us, we have a challenge for you.

On July 30th, our next Fifth Sunday Service project, we want to share 100 acts of kindness in this world. Instead of all picking the same project, you now have six weeks to get together with friends, and neighbors, and pew mates, and to figure out together what good work God is prompting YOU to do in the world.

Maybe you want to wash your neighbor’s windows and you can pull together 3-4 people to help you.

Maybe you are feeling called to visit some of our homebound folks. Round up a friend, or even better, a couple of children from the church and go and spread some joy.

Perhaps you know of a local agency that needs help with a project. Find out what is needed and take your book study group with you.

You could pull weeds, or write cards, or play bingo, or clean gutters.

All that we ask is that 1) you do it with at least one other person and 2) you make a difference in the world.

All together, we are hoping to bring about 100 acts of kindness on July 30th. If you can’t be here that day, plan your project for the week or two ahead and send us a picture of what you have done so that we can lift it up and celebrate all the ways Immanuel is making a difference in the world.

We can only do this big, amazing, and wonderful thing if YOU let God use you… if you let the Spirit of God fill you with kindness so that you can be ready for every good work.

Throughout the tale of Joseph, we discover that he is continually in the presence of God. He knew that every person he encountered was someone that God had put in his life. And so he treated Pharaoh the same way he treated his fellow prisoners.

In the gospel of Luke, Jesus tells us that even sinners love those who love them, and are good to those who are good to them. We are called to do even more… to love our enemies and do good to them. We are supposed to love all people the way God, our Father, loves us. And if God is kind and generous and gracious even when we are at our worst… well, that’s how we should treat all people (Luke 6:27-36).

As the Message translation puts it in Luke 6:36: “Our Father is kind; you be kind.”

And the loving-kindness of God saved us not because of anything worth that we had done… but according to his mercy. We were once ungrateful and wicked… and some days we still are.

Our job, as recipients of this grace and this mercy is not to go out and point to the sin in the lives of others… but to love them as we have been loved.

When that young woman walked into my church in Marengo, I knew that the Holy Spirit was prompting me to be kind.

I couldn’t begin to meet all of her needs, but I could get her home. I could buy her lunch. I could let her know that I didn’t care if she had spent a few nights in jail or a thousand years or if she was Mother Theresa – but she was loved by God and by me and she deserved to have someone help her. I could do that. Or rather…. God could do that through me.

And God can do amazing things through YOU. Live so that you might be open and adaptable to God’s promptings.

See every person you meet as a child of God, your brother or sister.

And remember that with the Spirit’s help… God’s kindness will be your kindness. Amen.

Hopes and Fears

Posted on November 29, 2015Leave a comment

Awaiting the Already.

As church, we are exploring this book, written by a pastor who served here in Iowa. And he invites us to look at the Christmas story through new lenses.

Over four weeks, we pull apart each gospel: Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John, and explore what they have to tell us about how our story begins.

Last week, we covered Mark in worship… with that strange fellow, John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus… calling for mountains and valleys to be leveled out as we make a straight path for God and us to connect once again.

This week, we find ourselves in one of the more traditional Advent and Christmas stories. Matthew’s version that focuses on Joseph, Herod, and the magi.

Except, this isn’t a story full of good cheer, either.

This week’s gospel story and our reading from the prophets remind us that the world is a tough, scary, dangerous place… but the good news is, God is with us. Emmanuel, God with us, has come and is coming into the midst of the struggles of our day.

***

In our Advent candle reading this morning, we hear a story from the prophets about how God is with us, even in the worst moments of our lives.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are being persecuted for their faith, sent to burn in a firey furnace, and yet our God, Immanuel, God with us, is with them.

Their story echoes the reminder of DeVega in the second chapter of the book, “no matter what you are going through, God is in it.” (p.42)

[11:00 candle reading here]

***

God was with Shardrach, Mesach, and Abednego in the furnace.

God was with Joseph when he got the news that his fiancée was pregnant and the baby wasn’t his.

God was with the Magi, guiding them along the way.

God was and is and will be with us no matter what it is we are facing in the world today.

And the world today is not as merry and bright as the Christmas decorations in the store fronts would have us believe.

As DeVega writes: “wars, brokenness, violence, oppression, heartache, grief, and betrayal do not magically disappear [this time of year]. There is too much darkness in this world simply to gloss over it and pretend it is not there, all for the sake of secularized merriment and plastic good cheer.” (p. 32)

And friends, there has been far too much darkness in these past few weeks.

The Paris terrorist attacks.

Suicide bombings in Beiruit.

Lives lost in Baghdad during a funeral.

Marketplace shootings in Nigeria.

Continued conflict between Palestine and Israel.

A shooting rampage that ends with two police officers and a civilian killed in Colorado Springs.

And these are just the disasters on the world stage that garner media attention.

They do not speak to the personal tragedies we have experienced in the loss of loved ones, new diagnoses, or broken relationships.

There is so much darkness, so many reasons to fear and cower and hide.

We are not the first to have experienced pain and loss, threats to our lives and reigns of terror.

As DeVega writes: “there is nothing about our allegiance to God that makes us immune to heartache and disappointment.” (p.33) I would add that our faith sometimes puts us directly in the path of danger when we step out and take risks out of love or compassion or others seek to destroy our faith.

In our gospel reading, Joseph was faced with such a trial. When he found out Mary was pregnant, he could quietly break off the engagement and excuse himself from any shame or blame… OR he could himself be subject to ridicule by staying with her.

Shadrach, Mesach, and Abednego could have renounced their faith when it was challenged and they were threatened with death… OR they could continue to proclaim boldly the name of the Lord and be thrown into the furnace.

And then, the holy family: Mary, Joseph, and Jesus found themselves directly in the line of fire when Herod realized there was a threat to his reign and sought to kill all who might stand in his way. They were forced to leave everything they knew and flee in the middle of the night and seek refuge in a strange land.

We are called to be people of hope.

Yet, where is the hope in these stories?

Where is our hope today?

Hope is not naïve.

Hope is more than wishful thinking.

Hope is paying attention to Immanuel, God with us, and remembering that we are not alone.

Hope is recommitting ourselves every moment to be God’s people… even in the midst of darkness, disappointment, tragedy, and fiery trials.

Hope means that when fear rears its ugly head, we hold fast to the promise that God is with us.

And in these times of trial, Immanuel, God-with-us, whispers in our ear: Do Not Be Afraid.

So Joseph stays with Mary.

Shadrach, Mesach, and Abednego go willingly into the furnace.

Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus pack up all of their belongings and without fear leave everything they knew to risk a dangerous journey to Egypt.

Yes, sometimes hope means seeking refuge somewhere else, because we have faith that God is with us even far from home and that someday God will bring us back to where we belong.

I have to be honest… that part of the story is the one that gives my heart the biggest pause.

I find it so hard to see the hope in a story where innocent children are being massacred.

It is so hard to see the hope when hundreds of people lose their lives to terror.

And I guess that is the “already but not yet” part of this story.

Because hope is the reminder that in this difficult passage about the slaughter of the infants in Bethlehem, God set in motion a plan to protect the one who would save us all.

We are still waiting for the world to be saved.

We are still waiting for the taking of innocent lives to end.

We are still grieving and mourning and weeping with the mothers of Ramah and the mothers of Paris and Bagdad and Beirut and Yolo and Colorado Springs.

The only reason we have to hope is because we know the end of the story lies in the hands of our God.

God doesn’t promise to snap fingers and fix the problem.

God doesn’t promise it will immediately get better.

God doesn’t offer platitudes.

Our God tells us to stop being afraid.

It is a challenge for our faith.

As DeVega writes, God recognizes “that fear is an understandable response.”

And, friends, I have seen a lot of responses of fear in these past few weeks.

Fear that causes people lash out at those who look different from them.

Fear that causes us to shut our borders to refugees, turning our backs on those who need the most help.

Fear that labels and divides us from our neighbors.

Yet those very words, “Do Not Be Afraid,” are “a call to resistance, and a refusal to let the trauma of external circumstances consume [us] with fear and disillusionment.” (p. 34)

I’ve been pretty passionate and outspoken in the last couple of weeks about our response as a nation to Syrian refugees.

And that is because I firmly believe that hope is refusing to live in fear.

And what troubles me the most about the way we as a state and as a country have responded is that we are purely acting out of an emotional reaction of fear.

We have one of the most stringent processes for accepting refugees in the world… a process that was strengthened after our own country was attacked on 9/11.

It is simply a false choice to have to choose between safety and security and doing the compassionate thing.

As DeVega writes in his book, “the imminent arrival of Jesus” is not an excuse to turn our backs “from the miseries of this world, but to confront them squarely in the face. In fact, Matthew would not only discourage us from finding Jesus apart from our world, or apart from our time; he would invite us to find the presence of Jesus right in the midst of this world, right now.” (p. 37)

And the most vulnerable, the least of these in our day and age are those who have fled from a reign of terror in their own land and are now seeking compassion and welcome in far away places.

Hope is recommitting ourselves every moment to be God’s people… even in the midst of darkness, disappointment, tragedy, and fiery trials.

DeVega believes that the core of Matthew’s entire gospel is this: “If you are waiting for Jesus to come back some day, then stop waiting. You can find him right here on earth, right now, at this very moment. All you have to do is look in the eyes of the marginalized and the oppressed.” (p.38) Today, all we have to do is look in the eyes of a refugee from South Sudan or Syria or Bhutan.

Hope is refusing to be afraid.

Hope is answering the call and recommitting ourselves to being God’s people even when we are afraid.

Hope is reaching out to the least of these in the world… because it is in them, that we find our savior and our salvation.

Amen.

Near the Beginning… (NaBloPoMo)

Posted on November 8, 2015Leave a comment

This morning, let’s go back… to nearly the beginning of the story… and do some genealogy.

Pastor Todd and I are going to start us off this morning with Matthew chapter 1, verses 1-6… from the Voice translation:

1 This is the family history, the genealogy, of Jesus the Anointed, the coming King. You will see in this history that Jesus is descended from King David, and that He is also descended from Abraham.

It begins with Abraham, whom God called into a special, chosen, covenanted relationship, and who was the founding father of the nation of Israel.

²Abraham was the father of Isaac; Isaac was the father of Jacob; Jacob was the father of Judah and of Judah’s 11 brothers; ³Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah (and Perez and Zerah’s mother was Tamar);

Tamar was Judah’s widowed daughter-in-law; she dressed up like a prostitute and seduced her father-in-law, all so she could keep this very family line alive.

Perez was the father of Hezron; Hezron was the father of Ram; ⁴Ram was the father of Amminadab; Amminadab was the father of Nahshon; Nahshon was the father of Salmon; ⁵Salmon was the father of Boaz (and Boaz’s mother was Rahab);

Rahab was a Canaanite prostitute who heroically hid Israelite spies from hostile authorities who wanted to kill them.

Boaz was the father of Obed (his mother was Ruth, a Moabite woman who converted to the Hebrew faith); Obed was the father of Jesse; ⁶and Jesse was the father of David, who was the king of the nation of Israel. David was the father of Solomon (his mother was Bathsheba, and she was married to a man named Uriah);

As Matthew prepares to tell us the story of Christ’s birth, he feels compelled to share with us this family tree.

An unexpected family tree.

It includes widows and adulteresses and prostitutes… and those are just the women!

So let us listen today, for how God moves through unexpected people and in unexpected ways to bring to us a redeemer…

****

Our scripture for this morning comes from the book of Ruth. It is the story of Naomi and her husband Elimelech had two sons and they lived in Bethlehem.

But a famine took over the land so they became refugees. They fled from hunger and made their way to Moab, which was enemy territory.

We might see their faces in the images of refugees from Syria and Iraq and northern Africa today… Camping in muddy fields, clothes wet from the journey, their only possessions what they could carry, completely unsure if they will be welcomed wherever they arrive.

When they finally get to a place of relative safety, Elimelech dies, leaving Naomi and her two boys, Mahlon and Kilion.

Years pass and they grow up and they each marry Moabite women… Ruth and Orpah.

But then one son after the other die.

Naomi has lost her homeland, her husband, and her two sons. There is no one left to carry on her family line or to bring her protection.

In this culture and time, when one son died and left the family childless, a brother or relative would provide security by marrying the daughter-in-law and preserving property and lineage. This kinsman redeemer would save the family by doing whatever it took to protect them.

But Naomi was far from home, no relatives to speak of, her situation was desperate and hopeless.

She plans to return to Bethlehem, to live as a widow… she is content to beg for the rest of her sad and bitter life.

And she tries to send her daughters-in-law away… to give them the opportunity for a fresh start, a new life.

But Ruth sticks with her.

Ruth refuses to leave Naomi’s side.

And Ruth makes the journey back to Bethlehem with her… not knowing what the future would hold, but determined to play a part in making sure both of them would be taken care of.

Think about a time when you felt like Naomi… when everything around you was falling apart.

Turn and share with your neighbor this morning:

What got… or is getting you through it?

Who do you turn to for help?

Naomi had reached rock bottom in her life.

Everything was gone, everything was lost.

As she and Ruth make the journey back to Bethlehem, she begs people to call her Mara – The Bitter One.

She is grieving, lonely, and depressed.

But Ruth is there to act.

Ruth takes the initiative to provide for them by gleaning grain from the fields.

And while she is out working, a man named Boaz sees her, treats her kindly, and seeds of hope are planted.

That is where our scripture picks up today.

Naomi realizes that Boaz was a relative, someone who could marry Ruth and redeem their family property and provide an heir.

She lays out a plan for Ruth to present herself to Boaz as a potential wife.

He is intrigued and after going through all the proper channels, Boaz is please to marry this Moabite woman to protect her family. They give birth to a child, Obed, and Naomi is redeemed.

None of us would be sitting here today if it were not for Ruth.

A fellow pastor, Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly, writes:

“Ruth is called a woman of hayil – a Hebrew word usually reserved for men – meaning strength, power, warrior-like capabilities. Though by our modern standards Ruth seems be subservient, in actuality, given the text and the time, she was an amazingly powerful woman. She refuses to take no for an answer (from Naomi or Boaz), she secures the livelihood of her family, she boldly takes on a new life in the face of seeming destruction, and she births the grandfather of David…”

Without Ruth, there would be no King David… no 23^rd Psalm… no continuing lineage that will take us all the way to Joseph and Mary and Jesus in Bethlehem.

She is a foreigner in a strange land.

She lost her own husband and then gave up everything she knew to support Naomi and work to provide for her.

Ruth did whatever she needed to do without question or complaint.

In my bible, the heading for the final section of our reading for today says “Boaz redeems Ruth.”

And technically, according to the rituals and traditions of the time, by buying the family property and marrying her, he has fulfilled the role of the kinsman redeemer and has protected their family.

But even the women of the town see clearly that Ruth is the true redeemer.

“Blessed be God! He didn’t leave you without family to carry on your life…” The Message translation reads… “This daughter-in-law who has brought Obed into the world and loves you so much, why she’s worth more to you than seven sons!”

As we head into the Advent and Christmas season, we discover that this love of Ruth for Naomi is echoed in the story of Jesus.

It is sticking by someone even when we didn’t have to… like Joseph with his pregnant fiancée Mary.

It is taking a risk and traveling to a strange land… like Mary and Joseph did when they fled from the wrath of Herod.

It is giving hospitality to strangers and looking to see what gifts they might bring.

It is waiting patiently for God to move in our lives, as we continue to take steps forward in the direction we think we should be going.

Love is not passive. It is hard and risky and a scary thing.

Love takes work.

And today we give thanks to God for Ruth, who near the beginning of our Savior’s story, near the beginning of OUR story, chose to love and in doing so, played a part in redeeming us all.

Amen and amen.

Making Room

Posted on July 14, 2012Leave a comment

Funeral Meditation based on Luke 2:1-7

As Christmas approaches, we are reminded that a very pregnant young woman and her patient fiancé were once left out in the cold. They made their way to the town ofBethlehemhoping and praying that someone would have a place for them to stay… but there was no room.

As Luke tells us:

Joseph went to be enrolled together with Mary, who was promised to him in marriage and who was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for Mary to have her baby. She gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him snugly, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guestroom.

There was no place for them in the guestroom.

Notice… it doesn’t say that they were full. It doesn’t say that there wasn’t room. It says that there was no place for them.

Your mother and grandmother was someone who always had a place in her heart for others. She took great care to make sure that everything was just right for people and that they knew how loved they were.

Wilma was born in 1925 here in Marengo to John and Carrie Ehrman, she graduated from the Marengo High School. She worked in the office of Byron Goldthwaite and also as a Deputy Clergy for the county… but you know best that her true love and her true vocation was to be a homemaker. She greatly enjoyed cooking for her family and you enjoyed eating her fried chicken and other wonderful meals. She made many of her own clothes with her skills as a seamstress… and some for you too, although Jean, you would have preferred to wear the store bought clothes =) She kept an exceptionally clean house and cared about the details. And she did it all for you.

She made a place for each of you in her lives and made sure that you were taken care of and that you were loved. She made a place for you.

Luke reminds us as we approach Christmas that the Lord of Lords crept into this world on a quiet evening and that there was no place for him. There was no place for his unmarried mother. There was no place for the man who would be his earthly father. There was no place.

I hear in that statement that there was no welcome for them.

Who wants to take in a pregnant girl in the middle of the night?

Who wants to deal with these strangers who didn’t have enough sense to plan ahead?

Who wants to give up their spot?

In some Mexican and Latin American communities, the tradition of Las Posadas reminds folks of the absence of hospitality Mary and Joseph recieved. In the days before Christmas, processions go from house to house and request lodging. The host for each evening turns the people away… until the final night, Christmas Eve, when Mary and Joseph are finally allowed to enter and the people gather around the nativity to pray.

So many times in our actions, we too, can tell other people: There is no place for you here.

But I imagine your mother and your grandmother would have loved being the host for the last night of LasPosadas… That she would have opened up her home and said – yes, there is a place for you. I will make room.

The God that your mother and grandmother believed in, crept into this world to make sure that we all had a place. He came as a child to make us children of God. He came and was rejected so that we might never be rejected again. He died so that we might live.

Before he died, Christ reminded his disciples and reminded us:

Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too.

There is a place for you. That is what Christ tells us. That is what Christ shows us. That is what Christ gives us.

Wilma knew that her job was to make a place for you in this world. May you let her life and her memory live on by carrying in your hearts the desire to serve others… to love others… more than yourself.

Amen. And Amen.

Love… gotta have it!

Posted on December 19, 2010Leave a comment

The Sunday that I traveled up to Cherokee, my nine-year-old cousin Taylor was baptized.

One afternoon, she came home very upset from school.

You see, one of her best friends at school had asked her that day if she had been baptized.

Taylor wasn’t sure, and her little friend responded: If you aren’t baptized, you can’t be a child of God.

When I first heard the story, I remember feeling a flash of horror come over me. Did she really say that? What a terrible and awful thing to say to someone!

And then I started to wonder why exactly that statement was so off-putting to me: If you aren’t baptized, you can’t be a child of God.

Looking deeper, I realized that my understanding of baptism… the Methodist church’s understanding of baptism is very different from the view expressed by that little girl.

You see, in our United Methodist tradition, baptism isn’t a pre-requisite for receiving the love of God… it is a sign, it is a reminder, that we are already loved.

Baptism is acknowledgment of the fact that God’s grace is already active in our lives… it goes before us – before we even know it is there.

Pop quiz time: Who remembers what kind of grace that is? The grace that goes before us?

Prevenient grace – gold star!

As much as that statement about baptism made me quake a little bit – there is also a measure of truth to the statement. In baptism, we do put on Christ, we are clothed in his righteousness, we are adopted in the family so to speak. In our baptism, but also in our confirmation of that faith when we stand before the church and profess what we believe, we are say to God – I accept that you have called me and claimed me. I will live as a child of God with your help.

But what is important to remember is that it all starts with God. And God acts in our lives because we are loved.

Often times, it is hard to see God acting in the world. Sometimes the world is cloudy and dim and life seems bleak. In fact, in our Advent scriptures this morning, we hear words of promise spoken to people who were scared and broken. In the midst of troubled days, God spoke through the prophet Isaiah and offered a sign – a young woman is with child and will bear a son… and his name will be Immanuel.

God with us. Emmanuel.

God acted when He spoke His Word and all creation came into being. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He led Abraham to the promised land. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He saved a baby from the Nile river and led His people out of Egypt. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He anointed a young boy named David as King over the people. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He spoke through the prophets and gave them warnings and signs and promises. God with us, Emmanuel.

And then God acted in the life of a peasant girl from Nazareth. God with us, Emmanuel.
Paul saw these mighty acts of God as he looked back upon the faith he received and he proclaimed that it is through Christ – through the prophecies, through his ancestry, through his birth and life and resurrection – that God has come to be with us. Emmanuel.

He knew that it is only through Christ Jesus that hope, peace, joy and love are truly possible. In Christ we receive this generous gift of life, Paul writes, and we have the urgent task of passing it on to others who will receive it.

We have the obligation… the responsibility… right now… to take this hope, peace, joy and love that is taking root in our hearts… God with us… and to share it with everyone we meet.

And what is it that we proclaim?

God is with us… Emmanuel. And just as he did in the past, God goes before us making a new way.

I think a prime example of that during this Advent season is the vision given to Joseph.

Can you imagine what this man must have been feeling? He is engaged to Mary, looking forward to their marriage, and he comes to find out that she is pregnant.

God did it, she tells him.

Yeah…. Right… Of course he did… Our God goes around impregnating people.

But he loved this young woman.

According to the law, her punishment would have been stoning. But he didn’t even consider it. He didn’t want to make a scene, he didn’t want to humiliate her… and he certainly didn’t want to pretend that another man’s child was his.

He made up his mind to break off the engagement quietly. She wasn’t showing yet – people wouldn’t know that she had cheated on him.

And just when he had finally worked up the courage to do it and layed down to get some rest, an angel appeared to him in his dream.

St. Joseph with Christ Child. Michael D. O’Brien

Do not be afraid, the angel said.

Her child was conceived by God, the angel assured him.

God has done this to save his people… remember the prophets? Remember Isaiah? This is the one that you have been waiting for. This is Emmanuel. This is God, come to be with you.

Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife.

God acted once again. God intervened and spoke words of comfort and peace.

And Joseph woke up, and took Mary as his wife.

I can actually imagine him running out the door in the middle of the night and heading over to her father’s house. I can see him pounding on the door, begging to see her. I can see them rushing over to the nearest rabbi’s house and waking up the whole household in the process…. Can you marry us tonight?

Because you see, when we realize that God is with us. When we realize that Emmanuel has come to dwell in our lives… we are filled with urgency. Urgency to share that good news with others. Urgency to tell the story. Urgency to obey God’s commands. Urgency to spread hope and peace and joy and love to everyone we meet.

When my cousin Taylor came home from school, believing that she wasn’t a child of God, my uncle sprang into action. He called up the pastor and asked what could be done. And there is no better way to remind us of the way that God loves us – the way that God has already acted in our lives – than to touch these cool waters of baptism.

And so, with our whole family there, that weekend, we surrounded Taylor with our love, reminded her of God’s love for her, and she knew that she was a child of God. She knew that God was with her… Emmanuel.

The only question left for us is who needs to hear those words today? Who needs to know that they too are loved? Where is God already moving and waiting for you to act?

The Gift of Kindness

Posted on July 18, 2010Leave a comment

On Monday, a young woman walked into the church and asked to use the telephone. Not a problem, I said. And while she sat in the office dialing numbers and getting no response, I sat at my desk trying to pick out hymns for this Sunday.

Are you stranded? I asked. She had just been released from the county jail, she said, was far from home, and no one was coming to get her. She finally got a hold of a friend or a neighbor… someone she thought might help and was chewed out over the phone. She hung up in frustration.

And so I asked her if she needed a ride. She had no other options. She was seven months pregnant and needed to get home. We got in my car and headed out. And on the way out the door, she asked if she could have one of the bibles on the shelf.

As we drove, we talked about where we grew up. We talked about semi-trucks. We stopped for food, because she hadn’t eaten all day. We talked a little bit about church – but only enough to learn that she had never found one that had felt like home. She had dreams that she wanted to fulfill… but also was raising her kids by herself and didn’t know if it would ever happen.

But she got home. And for the moment – that was all that was important.

This morning, we get to think about kindness… about where it comes from and what it looks like… and we are going to do so through the story of Joseph in the land of Egypt.

Do you remember Joseph? He was one of the 12 sons of Jacob – the same Jacob we talked about last week. And he was the first born to Jacob’s most beloved wife Rachel. That fact alone gave him a special place in his father’s heart and the rest of his brothers hated him for it. They schemed against Joseph and captured him one day and sold him into slavery.

Now – if my brothers had just kidnapped me and sold me into slavery, I’m not sure that I would be a very happy or nice person. But as we heard the story of Joseph’s time in Egypt this morning – we find a young man who doesn’t let anything stop him from being a kind person.

In the new testament greek – the word for kindness is chrestotes and it describes a sort of temperament that is respectful and helpful without expecting anything in return. Rick Renner describes this word in his book, Sparkling Gems from the Greek, as “being adaptable to the needs of others.”

Adaptable might be the best way to describe the young man Joseph. When sold into slavery, he tried to figure out what he could do to best please his master Potiphar. He served him with respect. Respect – even to the point of denying the advances of his master’s wife.

And although he was their unjustly… and although he had no reason to treat the other prisoners with respect, he did. He cared for those other prisoners and did what he could to help them. Which means that when the royal cupbearer and baker are thrown into jail… Joseph is the same person that he was the day before… he treats them with the same respect he would have treated anyone else in that prison. And his kindness eventually gets him out of that jail and in front of the king.

In the letter to Titus, we see that kindness, chrestotes, is obedience, it is avoiding a fight and not picking one either, it is showing courtesy…. But I think above all – it is being ready for every good work. Kindness is always looking for the next person that you can bless. Kindness is seeing others not as competition or as obstacles to your success – but as recipients of your grace. It doesn’t matter if those people are beneath you or the very kings and rulers and presidents of your nations. Kindness is not just being nice or saying nice things… kindness is being ready to act on behalf of another person… and OUR job is to look for ways to bless others.

So we have learned from the greek word for kindness… and we can learn even more about kindness by looking at the Hebrew word for kindness – khesed. Khesed teaches us that kindness is not random and spontaneous behavior… but kindness is the way we behave when we have a commitment to another person.

Just as we sometimes play word games – we too can see the meaning of this word khesed by playing around with it also. In the book of Job… God compares the ostrich to the stork…. You see, the ostrich abandons its young by leaving them in the sand where anything could step on them and any animal could eat them. The stork however is loyal to its young and protects them at any cost.

Now, that is all well and good, until we hear that the word for “stork” is khasidah… which sounds an awful lot like khesed – or kindness. In fact… in some bibles, this passage from Job actually uses the word “love” instead of “stork” as it compares the ostrich.

In the Hebrew understanding, kindness was not something shown to a complete stranger – but it was based in your relationship with that person.

Relationships come in many forms… We can have master/servant relationships …which is part of the reason Joseph was so kind of Potiphar and for so long warded off the advances of his wife.

We can have covenantal relationships like marriage, and commitments that arise because we are citizens of a town or a state or a nation. In fact – it was because they were all children of Israel that there was such a strong urging to care for the widows and orphans in the midst of the people…

One of the threads in this story of Joseph is the continual presence of God. And Joseph knew that every person he encountered was someone that God had put in his life. And so he treated Pharaoh the same way as he treated his fellow prisoners.

As Christians, I think our obligations to other people go farther than our families and our civic belongings. We have been made children of the Most High… and because of our relationship with God… we must love who God loves. We must show kindness to whom God shows kindness.

And… we must show kindness in the same way that God has shown kindness to us.

In the gospel of Luke we hear these words from Jesus: “even sinners love those who love them, and are good to those who are good to them… love your enemies, do good to them – then you will be children of the most high, because he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked”

It is the same message we get in Titus… the loving-kindness of God saved us not because of anything worth that we had done… but according to his mercy. We were once the ungrateful and the wicked… and some days we still are.

Our job, as recipients of this grace and this mercy is not to go out and point to the sin in the lives of others… but to love them as we have been loved.

When that young woman walked into the church on Monday, my heartstrings tugged a little. It was like God was saying… I know that you want to serve me – so here is your chance – Feed my sheep. Open your eyes and let go of all that stuff you think you are supposed to be doing on a Monday morning in the office. Go…. do… love.

This beautiful young woman had a thousand different needs, and I couldn’t begin to meet all of them. But I could get her home. I could stop and have lunch with her. I could let her know that I didn’t care if she had spent a few nights in jail or a thousand years or if she was Mother Theresa – but she was loved by God and by me and she deserved to have someone help her. I could do that. God could do that through me.

And God can do wonderful and amazing things through you, also. Live so that you might be open and adaptable to God’s promptings. See everyone around you as a child of God who you have a sincere obligation towards. And remember that if we live in this open way and pray for the Spirit to fill us… that God’s kindness will be your kindness. Amen and Amen.

Quiet Christmas Morning

Posted on December 25, 2009Leave a comment

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.