Luke – Page 3 – Salvaged Faith

Deeper Water

Posted on March 8, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 18:18-20, Luke 5:1-10

I’ll often come across a quote or a few paragraphs in a devotional that I’ll save for later, thinking – Ahh! This will make a good sermon illustration!

Today, as we think a little bit about diving into deeper water in our prayer lives, I remembered a story told by the seventeenth century French mystic Jeanne Guyon in her book, “Experiencing the Depths of Christ.”

But before I get to her writing, a little about Madame Guyon herself.

She grew up very religious, spending much of her childhood in a convent until she was forced into an arranged marriage at the age of 15.

By the age of 28, Madame Guyon was a wealthy widow with three surviving children.

But the piety of her youth was what drove her and she continued to have mystical experiences of God. She felt called to share these teachings and eventually left her children into their grandmother’s care and left behind most of her personal possessions to do so.

At one point, Guyon was imprisoned for her teachings on prayer, which focused on constant prayer and inward stillness which brings us into the presence of God. Her writings were considered heresy at the time because they prioritized stillness over vocal prayer and pious action.

So imagine this woman, who has not had an easy life. But through it all, she believed God was with her in the midst of her trials and suffering. Madam Guyon wanted others to experience the depths of a relationship with God that she herself had found.

She tells the story of a traveler who has embarked on a long journey… a quest of sorts. But when the man comes to the first inn along the way, he stops there and remains there forever.

Why?

“He has been told that many travelers have come this way and have stayed at this very inn; even the master of the house once dwelt here… Oh soul! All that is wished for you is that you press toward the end… Only remember this: Do not stop at the first stage.” (Guyon, Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ)

Do not stop at the first stage.

I wonder how many of us have stopped at the first stage of our prayer lives.

We recite the Lord’s prayer.

We have a few prayers we turn to before meals.

We might even have a daily devotional we pick up a few times a week that includes a prayer at the end of every reading.

But for many of us, we pray in much the same ways we did as children.

We learned some of the basics of prayer and then stopped at that stage along the way.

We forgot about our destination, what we were striving for in the first place: a life spent in the presence of God and a faith connected with the power of God.

While we spend a lot of time thinking about the prayer that Jesus taught us, we forget what else Jesus taught us about prayer.

Ask and it will be given to you.

Seek and you will find.

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

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

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

And from our gospel reading today:

What your bind or loosen on earth will be bound or loosened in heaven.

When just two of us get together and pray about something, God goes into action in response. (Matthew 18:18-19)

If we pray… stuff will happen!

Not little stuff… BIG. GIGANTIC. POWERFUL. MOUNTAIN SIZED stuff!

That’s what scripture tells us.

That’s what Jesus keeps reminding us.

Prayer is powerful.

So why is it such an after thought?

Even in the church, this institution dedicated to the teachings of Jesus, prayer seems to be icing on the cake, rather than the main course.

Think about our typical response to things.

When we see a problem or we have a goal, we create a team!

We have meetings and we plan and organize and we get approval.

And then we work.

We work our tails off trying to make something happen.

And at the end of the day we find ourselves so busy and exhausted and barely one step farther along the way.

Maybe, MAYBE, we had a devotion and a prayer at some step along that journey.

But not always. And not often. And not primarily.

Martha Grace Reese reminds us that churches are not declining or struggling because we are lazy.

We work really hard.

Maybe the problem is that we aren’t praying as much as we work.

In Luke’s gospel, Simon and James and John found themselves in this very situation.

They were hard workers.

They had been up all night and put in the hours.

And yet, they had nothing to show for it.

Until they listened to Jesus’ invitation to go a little deeper.

To row out a little farther.

To push beyond what they had always done.

Was it simply that there were more fish out deeper in the water?

Surely, that can’t be it… for they knew these waters like the back of their hand.

Was it that they just put in more hours of work?

A whole nights worth of effort didn’t accomplish what miraculously came in through one toss.

No, what changed is that they had spent some time with Jesus.

And they listened to what Jesus asked of them.

In “Unbinding the Heart,” Reese shares the story of the Benton Street Christian Church and their evangelism team.

As they got started in their work, Reese asked them to not make any decisions for three months to but simply spend their time in prayer.

This was incredibly difficult for this church full of do-ers and they got frustrated that the only thing they could report was that they were praying… but they did it.

They got together and prayed.

They prayed between meetings.

They prayed every day.

They got teased a little… but then they started getting prayer requests.

And by the time their three months of prayer was done, they had vision and energy and direction and one month later had fifty people involved in the ministry.

As one of the volunteers later said, “It was incredibly difficult for these four ‘can-do’ women to wait in prayer… a year and a half later, all four of us would say our prayer lives have been permanently impacted by this experiment… the entire church is still being impacted by this willingness to risk praying first.” (p30)

Isn’t that a funny phrase…. To risk praying first?

What risk is there in praying first?

What risk is there in stopping to ask God to be present and to guide our work?

I’ll tell you what the risk is…

Something might happen.

Something might change.

And it just might be us.

Richard Foster once wrote, “prayer is the central avenue God uses to change us. If we are unwilling to change, we will abandon prayer as a noticeable characteristic of our lives.”

Or to put it another way, if we are content with the status quo, we are probably not people who turn to prayer a lot in our lives.

The opposite is also true.

If we believe God is active in the world…

If we see that something needs to change…

If we want to transform our very way of being in the world…

Then prayer has to be part of the process.

It is key to the journey.

It isn’t just one stop along the way…. It is the very road beneath our feet.

Two weeks ago, our church leadership team thought together about the work we have before us this year and the role and responsibilities each of us will play along the way.

One of the things that we focused on was our vision statement.

Can we read that aloud together?

Through personal engagement in and partnership with our community, we will live a life of love, service, and prayer, so that all who hunger might be fed by God’s grace.

We’ve been working hard on making this happen.

We try to create opportunities for people to personally engage and reach out to our partners like CFUM and Women at the Well and Simpson Youth Academy.

We focus on physical hunger through our food pantry and meal programs.

We reach out to meet that hunger for connection and relationship.

But do you know what we haven’t done.

We haven’t invited all of you to pray about this vision.

We haven’t stopped to ask God to help us accomplish this work.

As much as we talk about love, service, and prayer… as much as we even practice intercessory prayer for one another’s joys and concerns… we have not prayed as a community for our work together as a church.

It’s almost as if we took all of the power of God to bring fruit and change and life to our congregation and we locked it up in a box.

Today… let’s set the power of prayer free.

Let’s let the good news of Christ loose on the world.

Let’s turn this work over to Jesus.

Just as Christ urged Peter, James and John out into deeper waters, this next week, each day you’ll get an email inviting you to pray for Immanuel.

Not just for our people.

But for the vision God has given us.

For the work before us.

Let’s not stop at the first stage.

Let’s not be content resting before our journey is complete.

But together, let us keep pressing onward, deeper, out into that place where the presence and power of God can truly change us and this world.

May it be so. Amen.

Sing! Play! Summer! – Amazing Grace

Posted on July 7, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Luke 15

I have a fantastic sense of direction.
If you drop me in a new place with a map, I can easily get my bearings and find my way.
When I think about it, I can’t remember a time that I have ever been lost… at least not while I was navigating!
I do lose things, however.
I misplace things all the time.
My attention slips for just a few minutes and I set something down and the next thing I know, it’s gone.
In fact, on graduation day at Simpson College, my family was helping me move out of the house. We packed everything up and loaded the boxes into my mom’s SUV and the plan was for me to follow behind with my brothers in my car.
My parents took off and all of us young folks helped my roommates finish packing and loading their cars.
We finished and went to head home ourselves, when I realized… I couldn’t find my keys.
They were nowhere to be found.
In a panic, we called my parents and they found them packed in the top of one of the boxes in their vehicle.
So I dropped my brothers off at the movie theater, while my boyfriend drove me halfway back to Cedar Rapids to meet my dad and the keys.
Believe it or not… that’s not the only time I’ve lost my keys while moving.
And, of course… I lost one of my monkeys this morning =) [reference to the children’s sermon]

Today, Luke’s gospel tells us the parables of the lost… the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son… the child who takes his inheritance and runs off, squanders it all and returns home.
A parable a short story that tells us a moral lesson… like the story of George Washington and the cherry tree. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not – the point is what we learn from it.
Luke groups these lost parables together, because he thinks it is key to who Jesus believes we are and how we are to live.
You see, at the beginning of this chapter, Jesus sat down for supper with some unsavory characters.
He was eating with tax collectors and sinners. Ooooo….
What? Does that not trouble you?
The idea that Jesus would sit down with a tax collector?
That’s probably because tax collectors today – while not our favorite people, are also not the unsavory villians of Jesus time.
But who might be?
What kind of people would we find it scandalous for Jesus to be having dinner with today?
What about drag queens?
Or Muslims?
White supremacists?
Or prostitutes?
Would any of those groups of folks make your feathers ruffle just a little bit?
Would you stop in your tracks and stare?
The Pharisees sure did.
They walked by the house where Jesus was having this grand old feast with a bunch of sinners and they started to whisper.
They started to grumble.
They started to complain… that fellow welcomes sinners!
And not only that – he eats with them!!!

And so loud enough so that they could hear – Jesus begins to tell these stories about the lost. About the shepherd that leaves behind the entire flock to seek out the one lost sheep.
The story about the woman who burns as much oil as a single coin was worth just to find a coin that was lost.

And when they found those lost things – Jesus said – there was great rejoicing…
In the same way God seeks the lost people of this world…
and God rejoices when they are found.
I may not know what it is like to be lost and not know my way home, but I do know what it is like to have lost something.
I know the desperation of seeking out that thing that I need – the thing that I love.
I know how important it is.
And so in some small way, I understand what it means for God to seek out those who are lost.
What is harder to understand is that I am someone who has been and who probably still is… lost.
We don’t like to acknowledge that we are sinners… that there are parts of our lives we still hold back from God.
We are fantastic at being being oblivious little sheep, wandering away from the flock and not realizing it.
Maybe it is a habit of telling lies, or the anger you harbor in your heart…
Maybe you like spending more time watching football than showing up to praise God…
Maybe you use and abuse the gifts of God’s creation…
Maybe pride has led you to believe you don’t need God’s help…
But whether we want to admit it or not, we are all sinners who have fallen short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:23)
It is an ugly fact about each and every single one of us.
We can pretend it’s not so – but, maybe, at the very least, we can take comfort in the fact that we are all sinners.
We are in this together.
We have all fallen short of the glory of God.
And God seeks each one of us out anyways…

Today’s hymn of the day was the second most favorite song of the people of Immanuel… Amazing Grace.
It was written in 1779 by John Newton and his story reminds us of that simple truth that we are all lost… we have all fallen short… but that doesn’t mean God has given up on us.
Newton was born in 1725 and was taken to sea by his father who was a sea-captain. He rebelled, he drank too much, he got into trouble, and before he knew it, he was forced to join the British navy. He tried to desert, but was caught and had his rank stripped away.
Eventually he found himself serving on a slave ship, and caused a big stink among the crew, so they left him in West Africa – basically giving him to an African princess who treated him as a slave.
His father began to wonder where he was and sent out a rescue mission.
On the ship back home, a storm tossed the boat to and fro and they seemed to be sinking…
In that dark place, from rock bottom, with nothing left to lose, Newton began to pray and the ship drifted to safety.
He marks this day, March 21, 1748, as the beginning of his Christian faith.
As Diane Severance notes, “Only God’s amazing grace could and would take a rude, profane, slave-trading sailor and transform him into a child of God.” (https://www.christianity.com/church/church-history/timeline/1701-1800/john-newton-discovered-amazing-grace-11630253.html)

Here is the thing, though.
Even after this moment, Newton wasn’t perfect.
He continued in his work as a slave-trader until the age of 39 when he eventually answered a call to ministry in 1764.
As part of his ministry, he began to write hymns, including Amazing Grace in 1779… a testimony of his own journey from wretchedness to salvation, from being lost to being found.
But it was not until 1788, thirty-four years after leaving the profession that Newton would renounce the slave trade and his role within it.
In 1788, he published a pamphlet, “Thoughts Upon the Slave Trade.” He became an advocate for the abolition of slavery and lived to see it end in Great Britian in 1807.

In many ways, Newton’s story reminds me of that lost son… the prodigal son… the one who is consumed by drunkenness and tries to make his own way and utterly fails.
Like the prodigal son, the love of the father rescues him and welcomes him home.
Amazing Grace speaks to this personal journey of salvation.

But I also think about the rest of his journey and how eventually Newton came to understand that every single person upon this planet is a precious child of God, worthy of love.
That God will not rest until every person is found….
The final verse of Amazing Grace is actually not attributed to Newton, but I think it represents that shift in his own life from the first person singular, to the first person plural.
From “I” to “we”

I am reminded of a story told by Rodger Nishioka who as a Presbyterian was working alongside some Russian Orthodox folks in an ecumenical project.
He made reference to the “Parable of the Lost Sheep” when someone interrupted him and asked him which parable he meant.
For a moment, I imagine Mr. Nishioka thought these Russian Orthodox folks didn’t know their bibles very well.
So, he summarized Luke’s parable about the shepherd looking for the one sheep that had gone missing from the flock of 100.
The Russian Orthodox priest looked at him and said, “Oh! You mean the Parable of the incomplete flock.”
In their tradition, God was concerned about the one sheep that went missing, because without that one sheep – the 100 would not be complete.
God wants to seek out and find all of God’s children and our family is only complete when all who are lost are found.
We are incomplete.
The family of God is incomplete when we leave out the tax collectors and sinners.
It is incomplete when we turn our backs on the drag queens and white supremacists.
We are not whole until our siblings who are Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist are welcomed.
We are lost if we cannot sit down with Jesus and the prostitutes.

As long as we diminish the worth of another person and hold them at a distance…
As long as we believe that others are unworthy, unfaithful, or uninterested…
As long as we act in hatred or anger towards our siblings…
As long as we are unwilling to sit down and share a meal God’s family is incomplete.

Like the woman with the lost coin…
Like the shepherd with the lost sheep…
Like the father whose son has gone missing…
God seeks out every single one of us until we are found.
Even me.
Even you.
Even them.
Thanks be to God.

This is Love: Love that Conquers Death

Posted on April 21, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Song of Songs: 8:6-7, Luke 24:1-10

In the sensual poetry of the Song of Songs, we hear the tale of a young couple madly in love with one another. Their love is made every more delicious by its scandalous nature, and explodes with emotion and passion. Every time I read through its passages, my mind wanders to the forbidden love of couples like Romeo and Juliet. So taken are they with one another, death itself could not drown out their love.
“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm,” the young woman speaks, “for love is as strong as death, passionate love unrelenting as the grave.”

In some ways, we find the overwhelming love and passion of these verses a little silly and sentimental.
But the truth is, we have known that love.
When we hold the hand of a dying parent or grandparent, we know the strength of the love that cannot be defeated by death.
When we say goodbye to a loved one, to a spouse or child taken too soon, we know the unrelenting passion for that beloved and precious life that will never leave our hearts.
Every birthday. Every anniversary. Every time we come across their favorite flower or song or team, that love pours back into our soul.
For me, it is the smell of lemon verbena. I am instantly transported back to my grandmother’s side and the smell of the lotion that was on the side table. Memories flood my heart with all of those moments of laughter and lessons… baking casseroles in the kitchen… hearing her encouragement for my endeavors.
And then I open my eyes and remember it has been nearly eighteen years since she passed.
We live with the reality of our loss. The love we have for another cannot snatch them from the arms of death. It cannot keep someone breathing or their heart pumping. It cannot bring them back to life.
Our love endures death.
The silence of the grave cannot take away the love we have for another person…
But neither can our love cannot defeat it.

On Good Friday, we carried Christ to the tomb. The stone at the entrance was secured and then we began to sit in lament.
Death is the final wilderness.
It is imagined as a place of suffering, darkness, silence, and nothing.
Our love endures, but the reality of death continues.

That enduring love brought three women to the tomb on Easter morning.
Their beloved teacher and friend… the one who had showed them what it truly means to live… had been taken by the powers of the world and had been executed.
They came to the tomb early that morning with love in their hearts.
Love that caused them to set aside any fears they might have about being arrested.
Love that was stronger than the desire to remain safe.
Love that couldn’t be extinguished by a criminal’s death on a cross.
Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James went to the tomb with love in their hearts expecting to encounter death.
They were going to look death square in the face and anoint the body of their Master.
They were going to tell death that it might have taken away their hope, but it could not destroy their love.

They discovered something they could not understand.
The tomb was empty.
His body was gone.
Angels suddenly appeared among them…
“why do you look for the living among the dead?”

On that Easter morning, so long ago, we discovered a love that was stronger than death.
God’s love for the world.
And that love poured out through the cross.
That love entered the reality of death.
It was a love so strong that the forces of death could not contain it.

Our journey through Holy Week rarely spends much time with the reality of Holy Saturday, but I want to take you back there this morning.
You see, the power of death is all around us.
And it can only truly and finally be defeated if it is confronted head on.
God’s love for this world is so great and so deep and so wide that nothing and nobody can escape it.
Not even the depths of hell.

In the Apostles’ Creed, we recite words handed down for centuries that convey the most important realities of our faith.
I actually want to invite you to pull out your hymnals and turn to page 881… or peek into the back corners of your memories… page 881… and recite with me once again those ancient words.

I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth;
And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord:
Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
Born of the Virgin Mary,
Suffered under Pontius Pilate,
Was crucified, dead, and buried;*
The third day he rose from the dead;
He ascended into heaven,
And sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty;
From thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
The holy catholic church,
The communion of saints,
The forgiveness of sins,
The resurrection of the body,
And the life everlasting. Amen.

How many of you noticed that little asterisks in the printed version in the hymnal.
Look down at the bottom of the page at what words we so often leave out.
After Jesus suffering and death… after he was buried in the tomb… the traditional way we remember this story is that Jesus descended to hell.

In the First Epistle of Peter, we are told that the God who made everything, came to us in the life of Jesus Christ… and that in order for all of us to be brought back into the life and presence of God, God’s love descended even to the depths of hell… even to the spirits who were in prison… and shared with them the good news of life and love and light.

My friend and colleague, Mary Bellon, wrote these words for her Holy Saturday devotion for the Annual Conference

“I think it must have been so quiet
In heaven, when God came home
Dragging with him the souls
Who had been lost, carrying them
On his shoulder and over his back
One by one, up from all pure lost-ness
Into heaven and such still silence,
Nobody wailing or weeping but held now
In the abiding, in the coming home.
For three days, he carried the lost
And shut the door on hell… ”

You see, in the holy moments between the cross and the tomb this morning, Christ was busy.
Christ was busy breaking this world free from its chains.
Christ was busy opening up all of creation to the power of God’s restoring, redeeming, recreating love.
Jesus entered the wilderness of hell itself and rescued the disobedient, broken, lifeless, defeated people from the prison of death.
And when he got up on Easter morning…
When he rose up from the depths of hell…
When he stood in body and spirit, in all of his resurrected glory before the disciples…
Christ ushered in a new kingdom where every power that would destroy life, every force that would bind us up, every authority… was now put on notice.

As the Apostle Paul writes to the people of Corinth,

“Christ has been raised from the dead. He’s the first crop of the harvest of those who have died. Since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead came through one too… Each event will happen in the right order: Christ, the first crop of the harvest, then those who belong to Christ at his coming, and then the end, when Christ hands over the kingdom to God the Father, when he brings every form of rule, every authority and power to an end. It is necessary for him to rule until he puts all enemies under his feet. Death is the last enemy to be brought to an end.” (1 Cor 15: 20-26, CEB)

Whenever a new kingdom comes to rule, the old powers don’t just give in.
They go kicking and screaming to their end.
All around us, death is trying to claw its way back into power.
The forces of evil are fighting back.
We still experience loss, and pain, and grief.
But the Kingdom of Christ is already reigning among us.
And we have been given the promise, the assurance…
The resurrecting love of God will conquer all… even, finally, death itself.

What is the power of resurrection?
It isn’t merely rescue from the brink of death, like we saw with the cathedral of Notre Dame… as brave souls worked through the night to prevent utter destruction.
It isn’t simply reanimation, as we saw this past week when scientists brought a spark of life back to pig’s brains.
It isn’t only resuscitation, where those we thought were dead were pulled back from the brink through extraordinary measures.
Resurrection is not rebuilding…
It is not renovation.
It is not restoration.
It might be a little bit of all of those things, but it is also so much more.

Resurrection is what happens when those who were dead and hopeless and defeated and gone stand up in the love and grace of Jesus Christ.
When we thought the story was over.
When we thought victory was firmly in the hands of death.
Love burst forth from the grave and said, not today Satan.
And resurrection happens all around us when we take up the life and the mission and the ministry of Jesus Christ.
It happens when we die to our self and rise with Christ in baptism.
It happens when we commit to resist the forces of evil, injustice, and oppression in the world.
Resurrection is the addict who hit rock bottom who is now a minister of the gospel.
Resurrection is the church showing up to sing praises in the ashes of a burned building.
Resurrection is a challenging the powers that be who seek to stifle life.
Resurrection is entering the prison.
Resurrection is mucking out a flooded home.
Resurrection is sitting with the dying.
We practice resurrection, we participate in resurrection, we are agent’s of God’s amazing resurrecting love every time we go to those people and places that the world has declared dead, hopeless, defeated and gone and we proclaim with our hands and feet and lips and hearts… not today, Satan. Not today.
Love is not just as strong as death.
Today and tomorrow and at the end of days, the love of God in Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit has conquered death once and for all. Amen.

The Wilderness: Learning to Lean on the Lord

Posted on March 17, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Exodus 15:22-27, Luke 3:21-22, 4:1-2a, 4:14-15

This year, we are taking a journey through the wilderness during the season of Lent.

Most years, we spend one Sunday, if that, focused on the time that Jesus spent in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry.
However, the wilderness is not something to be glossed over.

So over these six weeks of Lent, we will take our time with these stories.
We will slow ourselves down and really chew on them.

Today, we focus on what the wilderness itself represents for Jesus and the Israelites.
It is the In-Between place, a liminal space, a transition between what was and what would be.

While it looks like we have a collection of random verses in our gospel text today, what we have are bookends of a transition into ministry.

Jesus was born and grew up in the home of Mary and Joseph. He was obedient to them and matured in wisdom and years, Luke tells us. But we don’t really know much else about his life as a child or a young person. Not until he suddenly shows up on the banks of the Jordan River to be baptized by John.

There, the heavens split open and the Holy Spirit descends and Jesus is named the Son of God.

But what next?
How do you go from a nobody to a viral sensation who teaches and preaches across the region as our third set of verses tell us?
How do you transition from a quiet life in Galilee to a world-transforming movement of love and grace and justice that challenges the religious and secular leadership of the world?

You pause for a minute.
You take a breath.
You figure out who you are and whose you are.

That same Spirit that descended upon him, led Jesus into the wilderness. Led him into a time of temptation and wrestling. A time to clarify his values, his power, his mission, his message.
Over the next several weeks, we will look individually at each and every one of those temptations and what they tell us about who Jesus is and how we are supposed to live.

For today, we simply want to remember that he took this time, this beat, this moment between those two realities to get ready for the future.

And when he was ready, the Spirit sent him back into the world.

When he was ready.

Scripture tells us that Jesus was in that wilderness for forty days, but the reality is, Jesus was in the wilderness for as long as it took him to get ready.

That number, forty, shows up 159 times in scripture and it is not a coincidence.

Instead, the number itself is a representation, a symbol, a clue as to the significance of the moment. It speaks to the reality that this is a time of testing that is meant to form the person or the people into a more faithful future.

The earth was flooded in the days of Noah for forty days, Jonah warned Nineveh for 40 days of its impending destruction, and Ezekiel laid on his side for 40 days to symbolize Judah’s sins – all represent a transition from our sinful past to the possibility of a new future.

Moses and Elijah, like Jesus, fasted for forty days in the wilderness – and these times were important transitions as they waited upon the Lord to give them instructions for leadership.

And then there were the Israelites.
They had been slaves in the land of Egypt.
All they knew was oppression and toil.
They didn’t know what it meant to live without Pharaoh’s rule, much less what it meant to live as the people of God in a new land.

The wilderness was not just the path they had to travel to the land of milk and honey.
It was also a time of transformation and testing where they would be strengthened and learn how to lean upon the Lord.

Exodus tells us that as soon as the Israelites were truly liberated on the other side of the Reed Sea, they celebrated their victory and began to move forward into this new land.

Together, they traveled for three days. Three days is all it took for the Israelites to journey through the wilderness without water before they started to grumble and complain and fall apart.

And God does a miracle in that place. The Lord has Moses throw a stick into the bitter, undrinkable water they had discovered, and suddenly it is sweet and refreshing.

They are learning to lean on the Lord.
They are learning to trust in God’s power.
But they are really just beginning to learn.

I look at this map and you know what really strikes me…. Where Marah, this place of bitter water is situated.

It only took them THREE days to travel this whole distance.

And it took them forty years to make the rest of their journey.

Because days were not enough time.

Years were not enough time.

It was going to take a generation of testing and transition and wilderness wandering before the people of Israel could leave behind what was and truly be ready for what was coming next.

Forty days…. Forty years… it took however long it needed to take for the people to be ready.

Right now, the wilderness is calling out to us.

Matthew, Luke and Mark all tell us that Jesus is led by the Spirit out into this liminal space, but Mark uses even stronger language. The Spirit forced him to go. He was pushed out there.

Just because you are led doesn’t mean you have to go. You chose to obey.

But to be forced… it means I don’t want to do something, and I don’t have a choice.

Did Jesus want to be in the wilderness?

Did he want to spend forty days wrestling with Satan?

I get the sense that any rational person wouldn’t choose this situation.
Jesus didn’t want to be there, but he had to do it.
He had to spend this time apart.
He had to get ready for what was to come.
Jesus had to make sure his head and heart and body were aligned before his ministry started.
It was going to be a rough journey and he was going to be working with some knuckleheads of disciples… not to mention the cross that would loom before him.

This time apart was necessary, because after the wilderness, there was a job to do.

Friends, we also have a job to do.
We are called to be disciples of Jesus Christ.
We are called to be God’s church, the Body of Christ, and to live according to his example.
We are called to make other disciples and to transform the world.

Are we ready? Have we prepared ourselves?
Or are we like those Israelites who are only a few days into a journey and already we are making excuses and want to go back to the way things were and we need to be forced to stop and take it slowly and re-orient ourselves to God.

I think some of us have to be forced into the wilderness of Lent… and that includes myself.
I’m too busy to spend any extra time in prayer and fasting and study… I’ve got a job to do, right? That’s what we tell ourselves.
But when we force ourselves to stop…
When we hand a piece of our lives over to God for a while…
Well, then suddenly we find that all those priorities re-align.
We remember it’s not about me or my desires or my needs… but about God.
And about getting ourselves ready for what God needs us to do in the world.

To be God’s people.
To repent and live differently.
To lead in a new way.
To offer ourselves for others.

This time of testing and preparation and wilderness is not about suffering for the sake of suffering. It is not in itself pleasing to God for us to be tempted and tried.

Remember, after all, that Jesus was already beloved, dearly loved, just the way he was before being sent into the wilderness.

No… the wilderness, these forty days, are only pleasing to God because they get us ready to come back OUT of the wilderness.

I am reminded of that old gospel song, “Come Out the Wilderness.”

It reminds me that we are going to come out of this time of wilderness.

Sometimes this time will make us want to weep… or pray… or shout.

But most importantly, when we come out the wilderness, when we finish this journey, when we get to the other side of this “in-between” we will do so leaning on the Lord.

So during this season…
During these forty days…
During this time in the wilderness….
What do you need to do to get yourself ready…
What do you need to do to lean on the Lord?

General Conference Reflections #gc2019

Posted on March 3, 20191 Comment

I knew that whatever decisions we made or didn’t make during this past week in our General Conference that this Transfiguration text would be appropriate to frame our conversation.
You see, in the three synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke – the three that see together – the Transfiguration represents a turning point.
Where Jesus had been about ministry and is seen among the people teaching, healing, working miracles, and sending out disciples to share the good news… from this chapter on, in all three texts, his face is now set to Jerusalem.

This General Conference, no matter what we would decide or not decide, was always going to be a turning point. Like no other conference I have been to, the emotional and spiritual investment of people going into this gathering was intense.
It was either going to be a mountain top experience, or we were going to find ourselves in the valley of despair, and it all depended on what “side” you were on and what would end up having the votes to pass.

So, I want to frame my reflections this morning by thinking about that moment of Transfiguration on the mountaintop.

First of all – not everyone was invited or privileged to be able to be there.
Just as Jesus only took three disciples up on that mountain with him, the General Conference itself is a relatively small body for a global church.
864 delegates from all across the world were seated together on a concrete floor in a football arena. The reason we were gathered was to vote on plans related to how our church will include or exclude LGBTQ+ persons, but there were only a handful of people who identify as queer who were elected to serve on delegations and have a voice.
While some of you chose to livestream the deliberations, and others traveled down from Iowa to observe, as a delegate on the floor, we felt far removed from everyone else.
In addition, not everyone who wanted to speak got to speak. We all had devices that looked like blackberries and we had to insert a special card to be able to vote. It was also how we registered to speak. With such a large group of people, who actually gets chosen out of all of the people who want to say something is very limited.
Separating us from the observers was a 15’ ledge, and a series of three gates or doors that you had to have a special badge to pass through.
In some ways, it allowed for observers and protestors to have a voice and to shout and sing without disrupting our proceedings. But we also felt very isolated from everyone else.
A few times, there were responses that erupted on the floor itself among the delegates and it was powerful to be able to join in and to feel a sense of solidarity with the people who were standing or singing in the stands or far away at home.

Second – there were some sightings of glory and hope in the midst of that gathering.
General Conference is like a global family reunion. Everywhere I turned, from the hotel lobby to the pizza place to the floor itself, I ran into people I knew. There was Stanislaus and Pastor Celestin who serve with me on Global Ministries. I reconnected with people from my time with Imagine No Malaria and the year I served on the Episcopacy Committee for the Jurisdiction. My Committee on Reference team decided to take a field trip together and visit the arch.
All around were reminders that we share in work and a mission and a calling that is bigger than our disagreement about how to read six verses of scripture. We share a common faith in Jesus Christ, we have been baptized with one baptism. We have broken bread together in both communion and around shared meals. We have prayed for each other and laughed and have literally helped to save lives of millions of people in the name of Jesus Christ.

But this experience, like the Transfiguration, is a turning point.
When Jesus appeared in all of his glory along with Moses and Elijah, what they talked about, Luke tells us, is the preparations for what is coming next. They were preparing for his departure, for his exit, for his death.
Everything from here on out is going to be different.
And what I find so fascinating in the gospel accounts is that Peter wants to capture this moment. He wants to literally enshrine it. He wants to stay right there in that place forever.
But Peter doesn’t understand that we can’t stay right here. This is not the fullness of Jesus’ ministry. This is not the culmination. This is not the finale. This is really only the beginning of everything that is yet to come.
And the scripture tells us that this cloud and fog overwhelmed them and they were speechless and didn’t really know what to say or not to say to anyone about what they had seen.

Friends. What was clear going into this conference is that when we got to the other side and we voted, the United Methodist Church would never be the same. The decisions that we would make would have ripples across our connection.
Some were preparing for exit and departure. In fact, of the top six plans and petitions that got the highest priorities of votes, four of them were related to how we leave or how we protect the pensions of those who leave.
Some should have been preparing for exit and departure.
I supported the One Church Plan and a version of it called the Simple Plan, because I believe we are a big family. We are the body of Christ and none of us can say to another – I have no need of you. I have witnessed the faithful ministry of my queer siblings and I cannot deny the way the Holy Spirit has called them to serve our church. We are better because they are a part of us.
I also know that faithful people disagree about how to interpret those six verses of scripture that some believe condemn homosexuality.
And, I believe that the witness of scripture itself that we have delved into over these last two months as a church is that there is room for disagreement in our interpretations and room for contextual ministry.
There is a core of belief and doctrine that we hold in common and it is contained in our articles of religion for the United Methodist Church, and within those core doctrines, there is room left for discretion and contextuality on matters of marriage and religious ceremonies.
What we have essentially done is we have taken our understandings that relate to the contextual practice of ministry and we have enshrined them as doctrine and have declared that there is only one way of being a faithful United Methodist.
I believe that we should provide space for those who faithfully disagree on what John Wesley would call “unessentials” to be able to use their discretion and follow their conscience. And I think it goes against every fiber of what it means to be United Methodist to single out this place of disagreement on the marriage and ordination of LGBTQ persons and to say that if you cannot agree and abide by the rules we have created on this topic that you should exit the denomination.

The vote of our General Conference disagrees with me.

This handout contains a summary of the decisions that we made.

– Implementation delated for conferences outside the U.S.
– Pensions protected for exiting clergy and churches
– Partially constitutional Traditional Plan – to be determined if the Judicial Council will allow parts to take effect or because parts are unconstitutional the whole thing will be unconstitutional.
o At its core, much of this plan was determined to be unconstitutional for a very simple and very Wesleyan reason. We do believe in accountability – but we believe that it comes through being held accountable in love by your peers, the people who know you and the people who walk with you. Much of what this plan would have done was to create separate spheres of accountability. As it is, what it did was add mandatory minimum penalties and changed the process for how we hold one another accountable on that peer level.
– Exit Plan for churches, that was unconstitutional because it didn’t also require the Annual Conference to vote.

There is a cloud hanging over us. There is a fog that surrounds us. And I’m not sure what the church will look like when it emerges from this fog.
The simple reality that we face today is that the world was watching.
The headlines in some places have been brutal to our denomination and I feel like they will impact our witness for years to come.
Many of our families and members that are LGBTQI feel like they have just been rejected by the church.
But there are also centrists and progressives across the denomination that feel the same way. That feel like because we support ministry with those persons that we have also been asked to leave the church.

And I want to be absolutely clear. I, personally, have been and always will, love and care for and support our LGBT family. And to be completely honest, I don’t know what that means for me. The plans that we have passed invite to me to leave the denomination.
But I also see countless folks across the connection who are not going to simply turn in their credentials.
The reality is that there was no back-up or exit plan for those who were centrists or progressives. We had nothing in place for when we came out of the fog of General Conference. There is no where else to go.

What I anticipate is that these next two years are going to be kind of messy.
The denomination is fractured, and conversations are already starting from both sides of the aisle, if you will, about what comes next.
I anticipate that while we did everything in our power to not divide the denomination this past week, in essence we exposed the rift and our next general conference in 2020 will strategically and carefully formalize that divide.

What does that mean for you?
It means, as a church, that you have some time to pray and talk and wrestle with one another about what you might choose to do in the future.
In fact, I know that some are experiencing a lot of pain and grief and there are some of you who have already expressed that you want to just throw in the towel.
But acting out of grief is never a good idea.
So instead, I want to invite you to journey through Lent with me. I want to invite you to breathe and pause and rest in the presence of God and this church. I want us all to hold one another and to focus our attention on the one who has called us, who loves us, and who is with us – whether on the mountain top or in the valley. And the one, who from either of those places, calls us to follow.
So friends, care for one another in love.
Reach out to people that you disagree with and share a cup of coffee.
Find every opportunity you can to witness to love.
And breathe.
We are still in the midst of the fog and the clouds and for a moment we need to take the time to listen. Listen to God, listen to Jesus, listen to one another.

May it be so.
Amen.

Bible 101: Quantum Mechanics, Elephants, and JEPD

Posted on January 20, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Selections (interwoven) from Mark 1, Matthew 3, Luke 3, John 1 on John the Baptist and the Baptism of Jesus

In Western Christianity, we want to know the right answer.

We have been conditioned, educated, by our schools, our philosophy, our churches, to look at facts and to believe there is only one truth.

2+2=4

Washington D.C. is the capital of the United States.

This is a glass of water… well, I supposed you are taking my word for that one… but at least we would agree it is a glass.

And, this book, the Bible, is the word of God for the people of God… thanks be to God.

We open up its pages and read a single verse or passage of scripture and because this book is true, we think – “God said it, I believe it, that settles it.”

But embracing only one right answer, only one perspective is not the way other cultures around the world or throughout history have approached the truth.

Consider the Indian parable about the blind men and the elephant.

Six blind men thought they were very clever. One day, an elephant came into their town. Now these blind men did not know what an elephant looked like, but they could smell it and they could hear it. “What is this animal like?” they said. Each man reached out to touch and feel with their own hands. Without realizing it, they each grasped a different part of the elephant.

The first man touched the elephant’s body. It felt hard, big, and wide. “An elephant is like a wall!” he said.

The second man touched one of the elephant’s tusks. It felt smooth and hard and sharp. ‘An elephant is like a spear’ he said.

The third man touched the elephant’s trunk. It felt long and thin and wiggly. ‘An elephant is like a snake’ he said.

The fourth man touched on of the legs. It felt thick and rough and hard and round. ‘An elephant is like a tree’ he said.

The fifth man touched one of the elephant’s ears. It felt thin and it moved. ‘An elephant is like a fan’ he said.

The sixth man touched the elephant’s tail. It felt long and thin and strong. ‘An elephant is like a rope’ he said.

The men began to argue. But a little girl heard them and said, “Each of you is right, but you are all wrong.”

In the parable, it is only when each person’s experience and perspective is combined with that of the others that the truth is discovered. They were each right… and they were each wrong.

Or, as the Apostle Paul later put it in his letter to the Corinthians “now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” (1 Cor 13)

What I find fascinating is that we have traveled a long way from the way Paul saw the world to the way that we have been taught to see the world through a modern, Western lens.

Western thought has led us to believe that there is only one objective reality and therefore only one answer to be found for the questions we seek… but modern science is beginning to shatter those understandings and in fact take us back to ancient was of understanding reality. So… we are going to take a quick dive into the field of quantum mechanics. Now, I LOVE science. I was a physics minor in college and what I discovered with nearly every class I took on cosmology or space-time relativity is that the deeper I got into the science, the more faith questions I had. The more I discovered just how awesome and complex and mysterious the world is. The deeper I went in my understanding of God.

We all know that our body is made of cells. Those cells are in turn made of atoms. And atoms are made up of even smaller particles – neutrons, protons, and electrons. And there are also subatomic particles like photons, quarks, and neutrinos.

What we have discovered is that these quantum particles refuse to be put in a box. Sometimes they act like particles… other times they act like waves.

In fact, there is an experiment that was designed to try to figure out once and for all what these subatomic particles are. They took a photon gun and shot individual photons at a slit to determine how it interacted with the material behind it.

I’m going to use an illustration of this that I heard from Science Mike on the Liturgists podcast.… Imagine if you had a large 8’ by 8’ metal plate with a gigantic slit down the middle and shot a golf ball at it, you would expect to see an indentation the shape of a golf ball on the other side. If you shot a hundred golf balls at this plate, some might bounce off, but others would hit that slit and you would end up with an impression the same shape as the slit on your surface. That’s the way any particle behaves when it is shot at a sensor with one slit.

Now it is hard to imagine how a wave might make a different impact, but imagine this… IF however, you filled the room with water and dropped a bowling ball in the space, it would create ripples, waves, and that same slit could be used to measure the pressure of the incoming waves. You won’t see indentations… you’d see the impact of the energy from the wave instead. Same metal plate, same slit, but the measurement you get looks very different because what you are tracking is a wave.

Waves and particles act differently and create different impressions. So you can use the exact same device and determine what is being shot at the plate.

Now… imagine there were two slits.

Do the same experiments again and you would discover with the golf balls, our scaled up particles, that you would have two identical impressions left in each of the two slits from the impacts.

But… with the waves, what you would instead see is an overlap as the waves interact and interfere with one another.

So what has happened when we have done the same tests with photons, with these quantum particles, is that in a single slit experiment, it acts like a particle. It leaves an impression. But when you add a second slit, they act like waves and you see interference. When you add more sensors… they begin to act like particles again.

In fact, physicists today are running these sorts of weird quantum experiments and are now starting to wonder if what we think is reality doesn’t really exist in the way we think it does until we start to measure it. It’s like that old saying, if a tree falls in a forest and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a sound? Well? Does it? And the more measurements we do, the more solid and real and identifiable any particular quantum particle becomes.

It’s the story of the blind men and the elephant all over again. The more data, the more observers, the more perspectives, the closer to reality you come.

This is actually a way of thinking about the universe and existence and truth that has been shared by Eastern cultures and philosophies for millenia…. We learn more about reality by sharing perspectives. Each person, each sensor, each perspective gives you a point of information, but it is the intersection of multiple points that gives us insight.

Or as Science Mike puts it in the Liturgists podcast, “literally, additional observers make the universe exist in Quantum mechanics.”

The cultures and peoples that were inspired by God to write this sacred text were comfortable embracing many perspectives. To be honest, the authors of scripture were not really concerned with the details what really happened. They were not seeking one singular answer to the questions they were asking but were trying to explain how God showed up in their lives and their experiences.

And, the Bible did not arrive on the planet as one pre-packaged and published manuscript. All of these stories and writings and teachings were arranged and put together by later editors and chroniclers. They recognized the limitations of human knowledge and understood that truth comes out of the wrestling that happens as we seek to find meaning in a multiplicity of perspectives.

One example of this is the composition of the first five books of scripture: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. The Torah… or the Teachings of Moses.

As biblical scholars have wrestled with how to make sense of some of the contradictions and repetitive stories within these books, there became a theory that rather than these five books being one composite teaching, all written by one person, Moses, it is likely a combination of different traditions, from different perspectives, all woven together at a later time. While we love the idea that Moses sat down with a quill and a scroll and wrote all of these words himself, what we know is that many of these stories were passed down through oral traditions. And just like different members of the family might tell a story differently… same story, same truth, but slightly different perspectives, our scriptural stories were passed down the same way.

At some point, those stories were all woven together. And while we might prefer a neat and tidy compilation where each tradition and perspective is clearly identifiable, that wasn’t important to people in the past. It was how they were woven together that made the scripture come alive.

And so there is this theory that tries to pick back apart those different strands. This is the JEPD theory… Where each letter identifies the source and the background.

The Jawist (Yahwist) story begins in Genesis 2 – and it includes much of Genesis and parts of Exodus and Numbers. God is personal and reaches out in the lives of people.

The Elohist describes God not as Yahweh, but as El or Elohim. This is like Aunt Sally’s version of the same events, but she uses a different name for God.

The Priestly tradition likely comes from around 500 years before the birth of Christ and the stories that it tells often relate to worship and order and the temple. Genesis 1 is understood to be from this tradition… as are the parts of the story from Noah and the ark that talk about not two of every animal, but seven pairs of each of the clean animals… Because you need additional animals to sacrifice!

And the Deuteronomist is responsible for the final book of the Torah. The name literally means, second law, and it was a rediscovering or a retelling of the law for a later generation of people. The stories are often told, as a result, with the knowledge of hindsight.

So… how was the earth created? It depends on if you are looking at the Priestly writer in Genesis 1… or the Jawist in Genesis 2… and what about John chapter 1 “In the beginning was the word and the word was God and the word was with God and all things came into being through him?” … but in the Jewish understanding of scripture, that wasn’t the question they were asking. They didn’t want to know one concrete answer and objective truth… they simply wanted to know who they were and how God wanted them to live… and it is all of those stories, woven together, both a cosmic, orderly God and a deeply personal and intimate God that gets us closer to the truth of the mysterious nature of it all.

But maybe the most easily identifiable example of this, are our four gospels.

Four stories.

Four perspectives.

Each sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with the world.

And yet, they tell that story in completely different ways.

The facts are different. The timeline is off. The people who are important vary.

Believe it or not, aside from the events of what we know today as Holy Week – Jesus’ trial and crucifixion, and resurrection – there are only two stories that all four gospels share in common:

The baptism of Jesus and the feeding of the five thousand.

And as we heard this morning with the four voices reading this shared narrative, each gospel writer has their own take on the events of the day.

Matthew is writing to a Jewish audience and does his best to connect everything that happens with what has come before. “It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”

Luke’s gospel is meant for people who are outside of the Jewish context and so his connection points are more personal as he invites Gentiles to change their lives in light of Jesus’ actions.

Mark is a short, fast-paced telling of the life of Jesus, probably designed to make it really easy to memorize and share.

And John? Well, John is totally different from the other three. In fact, Matthew, Mark and Luke are often called the “synoptic gospels” because they see through a common lens. But John cares less about the details of the narrative. John focuses on the divine, on miracles, on the difference Jesus makes for the world, rather than in any individual life.

One way to think of these four gospels is to imagine them as four different cable news networks. Each has a different audience. Each has a different bias. And each approaches the way they communicate the truth with those things in mind.

And there came a day when religious leaders sat down and tried to figure out which of the stories about Jesus were the ones that really captured the truth. And they had a choice to make. Do we include just one version? Do we include two? No, they included all four of these gospels… those who were inspired to put them together in this particular way into our Bible knew that it was only by holding all four of these perspectives together, in tension, looking not at the parts, but at the whole, that we would even begin to be able to grasp what is True (with a capital T).

We can’t point to a single verse and capture “the answer” to the questions we ask anymore than in the parable any one of those six blind men’s experience would have captured the fullness of what an elephant is.

Like soundbites and talking points today, on their own they will never contain the fullness of the story or the complexity of the truth. But when we read it all together, when we seek to balance out our own biases, then like the blind men in the parable, or the scientists measuring from different perspectives, we can start to recognize the bigger truths.

That is why we need to read scripture.

That is why we have to read ALLof scripture.

That is why we need to take the time to balance our perspectives and not search for quick and easy answers.

God does not fit into a box.

And the truth of God is more complicated and awesome than any verse or chapter or book.

And that is an amazing, beautiful, and holy thing.

The Redemption of Scrooge: Keeping Christmas Well

Posted on December 24, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Luke 2: 8-20

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Redemption of Scrooge: Facing the Yet to Come

Posted on December 23, 2018Leave a comment

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

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

I now affirm that I am excited about my future.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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