Year B, Epiphany, Matthew 2.1-12, Psalm 72.10-14, Beggars

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.  Amen

May all kings bow down before him, and all the nations do him service.

For the king delivers the poor who cry out in distress, the oppressed, and those who have no helper.

He has compassion on the lowly and poor, and preserves the lives of the needy.

From oppression and violence he redeems their lives, and precious is their blood in his sight.

In the Gospel of John it is written:

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.  .  .

Epiphany is the day we remember the Wisemen coming from afar to pay homage to the Christ child, born in Bethlehem.

It’s remarkable in its contrasts.

Foreigners sought out the one born to be King of the Jews so that they might pay him homage.

While Herod, the King of the Jews, also sought him, that he might kill him.

“He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.”

One of the reasons that the story of the Wisemen was so important to the early church was that it anticipated what happened to Jesus and who was to follow him.

At the manger were the shepherds, the poor, and the Wisemen, foreigners.

Following Jesus’ resurrection the Gospel spread, but not among his own people.

The Church in Jerusalem, by all historical counts, quickly faded from the scene.

It was Paul’s mission to the Gentiles that resulted in the growth of the Church.

Jesus, born King of the Jews, the Messiah, and yet of all the people, the Jews did not accept him.  That is a simple historical fact.

Our Psalm points to another factor, that the poor and oppressed have a favored status in God’s sight, and for that reason, it is often those outcast by society that have embraced the message of Jesus more than others.

This message of Jesus, as Good News to the poor, is reflected in Mary’s song, the Magnificat:

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things,and sent the rich away empty.

The rich and the powerful have often had trouble with Jesus.  And if they don’t, it’s probably that they are not listening.

And now, fast forward to today.

Pope Francis is an interesting leader.

One of the most intriguing dimensions of his leadership is that he is the first Pope from Latin America and his perspective shows it.

He charged right into the fray of the Presidential elections last year with his admonition to build bridges, not walls.  His words were far more popular, I imagine, in Mexico that in the USA.

Pope Francis is adored by the world’s poor and oppressed.  Not so much by the rich and powerful.

Some would say that Pope Francis has been too political, and that his politics are too closely aligned with Latin American perspectives, which of course is his background.

There is another possibility.

It could be that he is in tune with a dimension of Jesus’ message that simply is not as popular with the rich and powerful, nations such as our own.

This is the thing though, it’s not just that Pope Francis is a renegade Christian from a third world country, whose message should be tamed by the Christians in the more established part of the Church.

Pope Francis represents a global trend in that the center of Christianity is no longer in Europe and North America, where it historically has been, but rather south of the Equator.

There are over twice as many Christians in Africa as there are in the United States.

The same can be said of Latin America.

Meanwhile in Europe and North America the Church is in a major decline. 

Jesus said something that should make us uncomfortable.

"Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."

When I consider these words of Jesus, and think about how it is in Africa and Latin America that Christianity is flourishing, I wonder if he’s speaking directly to us as a nation.

Can we be both rich and Christian?

Or will our wealth as a nation lead us away from Christianity?

And if so, why?

One reason maybe that we have simply become so distracted by our own lives. 

Our prosperity has allowed us to fill our lives with so many things, so much activity, that there is less and less time for Jesus.

I’ve noticed this in a very specific way over the course of my ministry.

Confirmation classes.

When do you schedule confirmation classes?

There was a time when Wednesday nights were set apart by the school districts across the nation as “church night”, and that’s when we’d have confirmation classes.

That has largely fallen by the wayside.

Now, today, it is a challenge to find an opening in the schedule for youth activities.

Even Sunday mornings are filled with soccer games, or swimming meets, and other such activities.

In my first parish I was humored by one of our parents who asked me in all seriousness why we didn’t have our kids in the swim team.  Now the swim team involved traveling all over the state to meets, every weekend throughout the summer.  It didn’t even occur to them that I, as a pastor, couldn’t do that.

Have we in our society, simply become too busy for Jesus?

Life has become a distraction from things spiritual.

Of that I am quite convinced.

Even devout Christians have a difficult time making regular worship a priority.

In contrast to this, I remember a story told by Dr. David Preus regarding the Church in Africa.  People would journey, most often by foot, from miles around to attend church on Sundays.  And having made that journey, their expectation was that they would spend the whole day worshipping.

He even related the story of one man, born without legs, who walked on his hands to church. 

I think about that.  In contrast to that, there is the “wisdom” that has been shared with us regarding our evangelism efforts.

In evaluating our congregation, one of the conclusions as to why we are not growing is that all of the growth in our area is in Liberty Lake, and people will simply not cross over the freeway and the river to go to church. 

Africans walk ten miles or so to go to church.  We’re concerned about driving across the freeway.

But there is another reason, more important, which explains why the Gospel is so important to the poor and the oppressed, and not so much to the rich and powerful.

I believe Martin Luther said it best in his last words spoken before he died.

“We are beggars, it is true.”

Beggars are not popular in our country.

I have to admit my own prejudice against them.

I don’t stop to give a hand out to those who are almost always present at the freeway off ramps in downtown Spokane.

They're drug addicts.  Drunks.  And all sorts of other derogatory thoughts come across my mind.

I felt a bit different when I encountered beggars in Russia. 

But even then, I’d been told that they were pimped out, meaning that because of their disability they had been put their to collect donations which were then turned over to their “protector”, their pimp, who profited from their misfortune.

So I didn’t give.

WE are beggars, this is true.

This is the essence of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, according to Martin Luther.

We have nothing.  We are totally dependent on the grace of God shown us in Christ Jesus. 

It’s a handout to the unworthy.

And this is probably why, it is so hard for the wealthy to fully embrace the Gospel.  We are too self reliant.  We can take care of ourselves.

How many Americans are capable of truly believing that “We are beggars, this is true”?

And yet, before God, we have nothing.

We stand, side by side, with the poorest of the poor in the world, dependent on the riches of God’s grace, not our own.

It may be easier, for the poor and oppressed to accept the grace of God for they recognize they need it. 

It is hard for us to accept a gift because we don’t often have the experience of really needing it.

I know for myself that the hardest thing I have ever had to do is admit that I needed help, that I couldn’t do it myself.

It’s hard to accept Jesus as your savior if you do not recognize your own need for saving. 

Maybe this is why Africa has embraced Christianity.

After all, isn’t that a continent that has been continually dependent on aid and assistance from others?  I mean, think of all the famines and strife that continent has experienced.

They have learned to accept a gift in the process.

And perhaps, more than anything else, that’s what we can learn from them.

“We are beggars, this is true.”

May all kings bow down before him, and all the nations do him service.

For the king delivers the poor who cry out in distress, the oppressed, and those who have no helper.

He has compassion on the lowly and poor, and preserves the lives of the needy.

From oppression and violence he redeems their lives, and precious is their blood in his sight.

Amen

Christmas 1, 2017, Galatians 4:4-7, Luke 2:22-40 Adoption, a Goodbye and Hello

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.  Amen

One of my bishops and his wife served as foster parents for children to be adopted, specifically for infants.  They worked with Lutheran Community Services which at that time did a lot of work with adoptions.

Their role was to care for the child during the period of transition between birth and placement in the adoptive parent’s home.

As they reflected on this ministry of theirs, there were two extremely moving moments.

The first would occur in the hospital.

A mother, the birth mom, one who so deeply loved her child that she chose to carry it till birth as opposed to having an abortion, would for the sake of the child, give that child up and hand her baby over to Mark and Carol.

Often these birth mothers were young, barely old enough to have a child, and hardly old enough to care for the child.

Each one had their own reasons for offering their child for adoption.

But one thing was true of all of them, and that was a love for the child so deep that for the child’s sake they would make that gift.

After a time of visiting there would come the moment when it was time.

Mark related one such experience when at the entry to the hospital, the young mother handed the baby over to them, got in her parent’s car, and as they drove away, with tears in her eyes, she simply waved goodbye.

Mark and Carol would then take the baby home with them, care for the child as though it were their own, until the time came to deliver it to the adoptive parents.

This would occur a few days or weeks later, and for them brought some mixed emotions as well.

Now they had to give up the child.

But they had the great joy of witnessing this gift to the adoptive mom and dad.

Often the adoptive parents had been yearning and praying for a child for years and now was the moment that those prayers were answered.

When you’ve had the privilege of giving birth to a child, it’s hard to imagine a joy greater than that of welcoming your child into the world.

And yet, I believe, that for the adoptive parents the joy may be even more profound than for the birthparents, for  the adoptive parents are often in a position of wondering, even grieving, their own inability to have a child—and then, as a  pure gift, they receive a child.

Adoption.

A giving and receiving.

Letting go, and embracing.

A birthparent’s sacrifice.

An adoptive parents’ great joy.

There’s one other experience we should take note of regarding adoption.  Because adoption so often takes place following birth we often don’t think about it, but we should.

That is the experience of the child.

There is a bonding between a child and their parents, a bonding that begins in the womb, is nurtured at the breast, and only gets greater with each passing day. 

For an older child that is adopted, there can be an incredible grief associated with this process.

And even for an infant, there will come a day when they realize that their birth parents gave them up, and that knowledge will bring with it a quagmire of emotions.

Yet in contrast to that is the awareness that their adoptive parents had opened their hearts to them in a most profound way.

What is the point of all this, and why is adoption one of the images that is used to describe our experience of faith?

Good question.

I have to tell you that when I speak to people about the meaning of baptism, the image of adoption has not been one of my favorite images.

My problem is that I find myself debating who the true birth parent is, and who the adoptive parent is.  When used with respect to baptism, the understanding is that God adopts us as his child.

And yet part of me wants to insist, that because God is our creator, God is our true birthparent as well.

In this way, I’d say that our earthly parents are actually foster parents, entrusted with the care of a child that is not their own.

Well, that’s one bias of mine.

But when the Bible speaks of our adoption as children of God, it bears witness to another reality.

There is a profound change in our identity, our relationships, and our life.

There is a letting go, and a latching on.

There is a grief experienced regarding the old, and a joy experienced regarding the new.

It’s an image of death and resurrection.

We have two natures.

We are both children of this world, and through our baptism into Christ, children of God.

When Paul speaks about our status as children of the world, he uses the image of a slave.

Our lives are defined by our actions, we are what we do, and in that each of us is by nature sinful, we are sinners.  Slaves under the law.  Defined by our own disobedience. 

I participated in a parenting workshop once, put on by Lutheran Community Services, in which the presenters made the point that the primary work of an adolescent child was differentiation. 

What they meant by that was that a child would, by nature, differentiate themselves from their parent, often through their disobedience, and doing things their own way.

And perhaps that is true of our relationship with God, as well.  We sin in part, to differentiate ourselves from God and establish our own identity. 

But then something happens as we live out our baptisms in daily life.

We are no longer defined by our disobedience, but by our relationship with God as our Father and Jesus as our Brother.

We are children, adopted by God through our baptism into Christ Jesus, and defined no longer by our own actions, but by the love of God, and Christ’s own sacrifice.

But this new reality doesn’t just happen.

It comes with a fight.

Our old self must die in order for our new self to be born.

We have a lot invested in our old self, so we generally do not jump at the opportunity for the new life that is ours in Christ Jesus.

Even if we acknowledge that our old self is defined by our sins, we struggle to let go of it, because, quite frankly, we chose those sins.  Sinful yes, but hey, they are my sins and my identity.

In my own life, two things stand out.  I built a personal identity around two things that are both destructive to me, and I would say sinful because of that, but they became part of who I am.

For many years, a significant part of my identity was that I was a Scotch drinker, and a smoker.

I have been set free from one of those, I am still struggling with the other.  Part of the reason breaking free of such addictions is so difficult is that we have to give up part of our own identity. 

There are other aspects of our identity as sinners that are more difficult than physical addictions.  The reason they are so difficult is that we don’t understand or appreciate them as sinful, nor do we realize how powerless we are at overcoming them. 

If one is an alcoholic, or a smoker, you probably realize, at least I did, that this is not a good thing.

But there are other things that masquerade as being good, which in fact are part of our sinful nature.

Freedom, for example. 

What do we value more in this country than freedom?

We have a national identity built around being the leaders of the free world, as opposed to other nations whom we see and understand to be living in bondage.

Freedom.  A good thing, we would say.  One of the things we value more than anything else.

Are we called to be free to live according to our own will?

Or are we called to be obedient to the will of God?

In order to embrace one of those identities we must give up the other.  To claim Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior is to no longer be free, but rather to be bound to the one who loves us.

Another part of our old self is the notion that we are what we have.  We are a materialistic society.  Our homes, our cars, our furniture, our clothes, and, yes, certainly our vast array of toys, define and shape our very identity.

This is never clearer than when fire or flood destroys everything we have accumulated.

Are material possessions a blessing of God or a curse under which we live?  Do our possessions set us free or bind us? 

There are many more examples we might cite.

But the point is this:  That in order to enjoy the new life that is ours in Christ Jesus, there will be a grieving over the old life that we must let go of. 

Everything comes at a cost, there are no free lunches.

To be a child of God means that we no longer children of this world. 

The old self dies that the new self might arise.

What does being a child of God entail?

Jesus says: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.”

To love the Lord our God with ALL our heart, soul, and mind, means that we must give up our love for much of what has previously defined us.

Now is when I’m supposed to say: “This new life in Christ will be great.”  That’s true.

But the truth is, it will also be hard.

Amen

Pondering

A flurry of thoughts
filled the silent stillness of night,
too many to sleep
and a child nestled at her breast.

Pondering.

Wondering.

The miracle of  new life
wrapped in swaddling clothes.

My Yeshua.  My child.

A mother wonders.
A father dreams.

The City of David. 
A little village.
No palace.  A cave.
And shepherds round about.

An angel's Song.
Cattle lowing.
Stars above.
A child below.

Yeshua.  Jesus.  Savior.

Jerusalem.  City of God.
David's throne.
Herod's castle.

A wise man's warning.
A prophet's hope.
A fleeing refugee.
A prince in waiting.

Messiah.

Roman crosses beside the road
A constant reminder
of foreign power
and Caesar's reign.

Jesus.  Savior. Messiah. King.

But tonight a babe
in a manger bed.

Doubt and belief.
Faith.  Hope.
"Joseph, take me home."

Heaven's glow
and earth's dark shadows.

The baby stirs.
She holds him tight.

Tomorrow they would flee.
Wailing in their wake.
Bethlehem slaughter.
A holy sacrifice.

"Out of Egypt I have called my Son."

"Let it be according to your Word."
Grace and truth.
Favor for a lowly one.
Blessedness.

Sounds of the night.
Dawn's new light.
Madonna.  Child.
Holy breast.

This night she looked down on him,
overflowing with love.
One day she would look up to him,
overwhelmed with grief.

"A sword will pierce your own soul too."
What kind of greeting must that be?
"Simeon, be silent!"

Peace on Earth,
And heaven's glory.
Not seen.
Felt. 

Yeshua.  Jesus.  Savior.  Child.

"Would that the world love you as I do."
Gift of God.
Grace.
And Hope.

Christmas Eve, 2017 Come!

"Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

A baby, born in a stable, forced into Egypt as a refugee, a carpenter's son, a rabbi, and one condemned to die-- for us. This one, born a savior, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords is our God.

A young maiden, betrothed but not married, stood before an angel.

"Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.  And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end."

"How can this be, since I am a virgin?" Mary would respond.

The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.”

Mary heard, and she came to the manger.

Joseph knew one thing.  The child Mary had conceived was not his own.  There was a moment when Joseph was convinced that this was not right, that Mary had been unfaithful, and that it was time to take care of matters, and dismiss her as his betrothed.  Certain sins just cannot be hidden.  A child conceived out of wedlock is one of them.

And then he dreamt the dream.

And the angel said:

"Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins."

Joseph heard, and he came to the manger.

They kept watch over their flocks by night.

Shepherds.  The working poor.  Living with the animals they were charged to take care of.

And in the stillness of the dark night sky they saw an angel.

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

And then a great heavenly choir sang out:

"Glory to God in the highest heaven,

and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

The shepherds heard, and they came to the manger.

They saw a star, rising in the East, and came to believe that this signaled the birth of the one who would be King of the Jews.

They followed the star to Jerusalem and asked about this prince, where he had been born.

"In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

'And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for from you shall come a ruler

who is to shepherd my people Israel. '

The Wisemen heard, and they came to the manger.

And so we have the Holy Nativity.

A blessed Virgin.

A faithful Joseph.

Two who believed that “nothing will be impossible with God."

Lowly shepherds.  Daring to believe.

And wisemen, stargazers, astronomers, wealthy and privileged.  Foreigners.

All of them heard.

And were afraid.

But they came to the manger.

Kneeling there, they worshiped the newborn King.

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Lofty words for one wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

Of this one, it would be written:

That, “though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be exploited,

7 but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in human form,

8 he humbled himself

and became obedient to the point of death—

even death on a cross.”

That a baby is born -- nothing unusual about that.

That people gathered to celebrate the birth – nothing unusual about that.

That he would be destined to be king, well, even kings come from somewhere – nothing all that remarkable about that either.

But that this one, born King of the Jews, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

That this one would move from the manger and one day hang from a cross was different.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

Born in a stable, laid in a manger, and hung from a cross.

This is the one of which we’ve heard.

And for his sake we come to the manger, and look to the cross.

The miracle of this night is not of an angel’s song, or a Virgin’s womb.

A star in the heavens is no big deal for a God who created the heavens and the earth.

But that this God would come to us, and die for us, is miraculous.

We have heard, and so we come this night to kneel at the manger, remembering the child cradled in Mary’s arms, celebrating the life that was so conceived, and so delivered.

This night we are part of that miracle.

For the manger became a cross,

And the cross a table,

And on that table – this table,

Bread and wine,

His body and blood,

Given and shed for you.

Imagine standing with Mary and hearing the angel’s greeting.

Imagine dreaming with Joseph, the angel’s dream.

Imagine watching with the shepherds the heavenly host.

Imagine following the star to Bethlehem.

How can we not envy those so privileged to welcome Jesus’ birth.

And yet all of that, remarkable as it was, happened to lead us from the manger, to the cross, and to this table.

For it is here that Christ comes, full of grace and truth.

It is here that he offers us forgiveness, life and salvation.

It is here, as we gather in his name, that the Word becomes flesh once again, full of grace and truth.

The angel said to Joseph:

"Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,"

which means, "God is with us."

God is with us—

                In the manger.

God is with us—

                On the cross.

And God is with us—

                At the table.

The same God, holy and mighty,

                Yet flesh and blood,

                Living with us and dying for us.

All this points us beyond the manger, beyond the cross, and beyond this table, to yet another incarnation:

"See, the home of God is among mortals.

He will dwell with them;

they will be his peoples,

and God himself will be with them;

4 he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

for the first things have passed away."

A new heaven and a new earth, but the same God, with us now and forever.

This is the miracle of Christmas.

Come to the manger.

Come to the cross.

Come to the table.

The Spirit and the bride say, "Come."

And let everyone who hears say, "Come."

And let everyone who is thirsty come.

Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.

Amen

The Cycle of Life

For as the earth brings forth its shoots,
and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up,

so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise
to spring up before all the nations.  (Isaiah 61:11)

The church is a living organism, not an organization.  A movement of the Spirit, not an institution. 

The difference is most evident in the natural cycle of life.  Organizations and institutions are deeply committed to self preservation.  Living organisms are constantly engaged in the cycle of death and rebirth, of seed time and harvest, of rising up from the ashes.

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  (John 12:24-25)

We'd rather be a tree.  At least with trees, the pruning feels less painful that tilling and planting.  And forest fires that destroy the old and make way for the new are few and far between.  We can even comfort ourselves with the knowledge that many trees have a life expectancy of hundreds, even thousands, of years.

Burning the fields.  Tilling the soil.  Destroying the refuse of last year's crop as a preparation for next year's seed time and harvest.  Planting the seed and waiting.  Watching the new shoots emerge from the soil, yet knowing that the harvest is still many months away.  We are an impatient people.  We want the harvest now.  

I knew a farmer who would watch the grain in his field ripen.  When it was getting close to harvest time, he'd leave and go fishing for a week or so.  It was his discipline not to rush the harvest.  

I've been thinking and writing about this quite a bit.  It's a struggle.  I entered ministry envisioning a perpetual harvest.  That the church would simply grow, and grow, and yield its fruit in all seasons.  It doesn't happen like that.  

One of the goals of our church at its inception was that we might become more of an inclusive church than our predecessor church bodies had been.  I loved the statement that inclusivity is achieved with the lead end of the pencil, not the eraser.  Now I'm not sure.  Something had to die.  The soil needed to be tilled.  Yesterday's crop is tomorrow's mulch. 

No where is this more clear to me than with respect to our decisions on sexuality, and specifically our commitment to welcome and include GLBTQ people into the life of the church and full participation in our ministry.  It has not been a net gain proposition to this date.  We thought we could simply move forward, recognizing our diversity, and allowing for all, both those who favor such a move and those who oppose it, to continue to live together, reconciled in our differences.  The truth was that in order to include some, others were lost.  A more inclusive church will emerge, only as the exclusive body dies.  Fact of life.

Is the same thing true with respect to including a broader spectrum of ethnic groups?  I think it may be.  Our unspoken identity as Scandinavian and German cultural centers probably needs to die in order for us to be a welcome place for Latinos, Blacks, Native Americans, and other groups.   

Some congregations will experience renewal only as the core group that has dominated the life of the congregation for a generation dies.  This is one of the hardest realities to face.  The lifelong commitment of these saints too often precludes the emergence of new leadership and direction until death creates the opportunity.  That's relatively easy to write in a blog.  Hard to say to someone whose held the reigns of a congregation for 50 or more years.

When we participated in the formation of a new congregation I was, and still am, amazed at the young leadership that came to the fore.  We were breaking new soil.  We don't have adequate resources to start many new congregations today.  And the old ones, just get older.  As I have visited numerous congregations it has felt like I was looking at a corn field, post harvest.  The corn still stood, no longer green, and the cobs long ago picked.  Springtime will come, and with it the plowing of the field and the planting of the seed.  But for now, stalks stand in the field.  And as I age I am aware that soon but very soon, I too will be a stalk that has already yielded its harvest, and now simply awaits the tilling.

I wonder how those of us who have served a lifetime in the church can prepare the soil for the new generation of leaders that is emerging.  Our work is incomplete.  I rather think that my generation of pastors may have served the role of tillers.  Perhaps even sowers.  But the harvest we had hoped for is still a long way off.  Faith is believing that having tilled and sown the crop it will bear fruit, that there will be a harvest, even if we ourselves will not be the ones to harvest it.

My sense of the last thirty  years in our church is that we have undertaken two major initiatives, one with respect to ecumenism, the other with respect to inclusivity.  With respect to ecumencal relationships I believe that the seeds have been sown, and are germinating, and breaking forth from the soil.  With respect to inclusivity I think we are still in the tilling phase, preparing the soil.  

Am I just depressed and not optimistic enough?  Recognizing the cycle of life that is essential to a living organism is not pessimistic.  It is actually optimistic.  Pessimism is looking at the harvested field and concluding that it is all over.  Optimism is gathering in the harvest and setting aside the first fruits to be planted again, next  year.  Pessimism grieves over the stubble.  Optimism sees renewal in the tilling.  I loved the look of a freshly tilled garden, even more so as the stakes marked out the rows of  planting.  There is anticipation and hope in that.

Can we capture that anticipation and hope at this time?

There will be challenges.  I am aware that in my own congregation the loss of even one member will necessitate the re-writing of the budget.  Whenever someone steps back we wonder if anyone is left to step up.  The 800 pound Gorilla in the room is whether this congregation, as a congregation, will weather the transition.  It may close, as many other congregations may close.  The land may need to lie fallow for a time.

And yet we believe.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,

and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,

giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.  (Isaiah 55:10-11)

In the end, we may be the seed that needs to fall into the earth and die.  But the Word will call forth new life and a new day.  

Year B, Advent 3, Luke 1.36-55, Mother of God

From this day all generations will call me blessed: *
the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.

You’ve probably not heard many sermons in the Lutheran Church on Mary, the mother of our Lord.

For many of us, to be Lutheran is to reject much of what is distinctively Roman Catholic, and with that, reject any notion of the blessedness of the virgin Mary.

In this we parted ways, not only with Roman Catholicism, but with Luther himself.

Hear a few things Luther said:

God did not derive his divinity from Mary; but it does not follow that it is therefore wrong to say that God was born of Mary, that God is Mary's Son, and that Mary is God's mother...She is the true mother of God and bearer of God...Mary suckled God, rocked God to sleep, prepared broth and soup for God, etc. For God and man are one person, one Christ, one Son, one Jesus. not two Christs. . .just as your son is not two sons...even though he has two natures, body and soul, the body from you, the soul from God alone. (On the Councils and the Church, 1539).

[She is the] highest woman and the noblest gem in Christianity after Christ. ..She is nobility, wisdom, and holiness personified. We can never honor her enough. Still honor and praise must be given to her in such a way as to injure neither Christ nor the Scriptures. (Sermon, Christmas, 1531).

No woman is like you. You are more than Eve or Sarah, blessed above all nobility, wisdom, and sanctity. (Sermon, Feast of the Visitation. 1537).

One should honor Mary as she herself wished and as she expressed it in the Magnificat. She praised God for his deeds. How then can we praise her? The true honor of Mary is the honor of God, the praise of God's grace.. .Mary is nothing for the sake of herself, but for the sake of Christ...Mary does not wish that we come to her, but through her to God. (Explanation of the Magnificat, 1521).

It is the consolation and the superabundant goodness of God, that man is able to exult in such a treasure. Mary is his true Mother, Christ is his brother. God is his father. (Sermon. Christmas, 1522) 

Mary is the Mother of Jesus and the Mother of all of us even though it was Christ alone who reposed on her knees...If he is ours, we ought to be in his situation; there where he is, we ought also to be and all that he has ought to be ours, and his mother is also our mother. (Sermon, Christmas, 1529).

(The quotes are assembled from Luther’s works by Dave Armstrong, and published by CatholicCulture.org)

Some might say that Luther’s devotion to the Virgin Mary is one aspect of his faith that remained very Catholic, even following the Reformation.

Perhaps even view this as a weakness in his personal theology.

And yet, we should also beware that our resistance to calling her blessed has more to do with our anti-Roman Catholic tendencies, than it does with any scriptural or theological position.

Over and against any and all of our objections to any veneration of Mary is one simple fact:

That through this young maiden, God became human, entering into our world through her womb, and receiving from her his earthly nature. 

Theotokos is what she is referred to in Eastern Orthodoxy, literally, “God bearer”.

Mary was a  young maiden, probably only 12 or 13 years old, old enough to be betrothed according to Jewish custom, but not yet married in the full sense of that term, which would normally happen after she matured, went through puberty, and became a woman.

An angel visited her.

She heard the words that she would bear a child who would be called “Son of God” that is, the Messiah.

And she wondered, how could this be.

In the end, in a perfectly faithful response, she said: “let it be with me according to your word."

When she visited Elizabeth, her relative that was expecting her child in her old age, Mary broke into song:

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.”

Grace.

The favor of God shown to her, and to us, in our lowliness.

Mary would cradle the Christ Child in her arms, as shepherds and wise men visited.

She would hear of the angel’s song:

"Glory to God in the highest heaven,

and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

And she would hear Simeon’s Song, when they brought Jesus to be circumsized:

29 "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,

according to your word;

30 for my eyes have seen your salvation,

31 which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,

32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles

and for glory to your people Israel."

No sooner than all this had taken place, Mary would grasp Jesus in her arms and flee with Joseph into Egypt, a refugee seeking safety for the child in a foreign land, made necessary by Herod’s desire to kill the babe.

As Jesus grew in years, they would visit Jerusalem.

Horrified, they realized as they returned home that Jesus was nowhere to be found. 

Except in his Father’s house, where he was found conversing with the teachers.

"Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?"

It was Mary who called on Jesus to perform his first miracle, at the wedding at Cana.

And it was Mary who sought out Jesus during his ministry, concerned about his health and wellbeing.

And then it was Mary who stood at the foot of the cross, filled with grief, as she watched her son suffer and die.

Simeon had said:

 "This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too."

Had those words prepared her for the agony of watching Jesus suffer and die?

In all this, Mary reflected the Father’s love, in that she too offered her Son up for the salvation of the world.

And for this, all generations will called her blessed.

Rather than despising the Virgin Mary, we should rather seek to model our faith after hers.

"Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."

Let it be.

Let it be that God might look upon us in our lowliness with his grace and favor.

Let it be that through us the Christ might become flesh and dwell among us, full of grace and truth.

Let it be that we might cling tight to the Christ to protect him from the world,

And let it be that we might let him go into the world.

Let it be that we might take our stand at the foot of the cross.

And let it be that we might bear his love to all the world.

I’ve often thought that one of the reasons Roman Catholics are so devoted to Mary, is that sometimes only a mother will do.

You see, there is a part of us that longs to return to the bosom from which we were first embraced, to feel again the love that gave us life, and to know that we are not, nor ever shall be, orphaned.

If Christ is truly our brother, then Mary is our Mother.

As Luther said:

Mary is the Mother of Jesus and the Mother of all of us even though it was Christ alone who reposed on her knees...If he is ours, we ought to be in his situation; there where he is, we ought also to be and all that he has ought to be ours, and his mother is also our mother. (Sermon, Christmas, 1529).

The love that Mary had for Jesus, is also a love she has for us.

But Mary’s love is always experienced as a reflection of the Father’s love and in the context of her love for the Christ Child.

To come to Mary, is to come to the one who kneels at the side of the manger.

To come to Mary, is to come to the one who points us to the one who lies in the manger.

To come to Mary, mother of God, is to come to Jesus, apart from which she is not.

Mary will not save you.

She merely points us to the one, who will.

She points us to the one, whose will is that we might be saved.

Faith.

It is to stand with Mary,

At the foot of the cross,

And simply say:  “Let it be with me according to your Word.”

Amen

Year B, Advent 2, Isaiah 40.1-11, What time is it?

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen

“Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her

that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,

that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins. . .”

“He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,

and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep.”

These are the words that the prophet Isaiah was called to speak to the people of Israel. 

Beautiful words.  So beautiful that one could write a song, or two, from them.  As Handel did in the Messiah, or Johann Olearius did in the hymn we’ll sing later.

Words of comfort,

Words of hope,

Words of peace,

Are most powerful for us at those times when we are not comfortable, when our hope is dried up, and when peace seems so far away.

So it was for the people of Israel.

“They had received from the Lord’s hand double for all their sins.”

Through the first 39 chapters of Isaiah the prophet spoke words of warning to the people of Israel, words of warning about the judgment that was to come.

In Chapter 10 Isaiah warned:

1 Ah, you who make iniquitous decrees,

who write oppressive statutes,

2 to turn aside the needy from justice

and to rob the poor of my people of their right,

that widows may be your spoil,

and that you may make the orphans your prey!

3 What will you do on the day of punishment,

in the calamity that will come from far away?

To whom will you flee for help,

and where will you leave your wealth,

4 so as not to crouch among the prisoners

or fall among the slain?

What followed these words of warning was a time of judgment.

Israel was defeated by her enemies,

The nation was destroyed,

And the people were taken into captivity and exile in Babylon.

It seemed that all of the promises that God had made to his people had failed them. 

Promises of a great nation, a Holy Land, and of being God’s Chosen People.

Promises that had been made to Abraham, to Moses, and to David.

And now all was lost.

Had God abandoned his people?

The answer is no, he had not abandoned them, he had judged them and punished them for their sins.

Ironically, it was their prosperity that had become their undoing.

8 Woe to those who join house to house,

who add field to field,

until there is no more room,

and you are made to dwell alone

in the midst of the land.

9 The Lord of hosts has sworn in my hearing:

                "Surely many houses shall be desolate,

large and beautiful houses, without inhabitant.

10 For ten acres of vineyard shall yield but one bath,

and a homer of seed shall yield but an ephah."

The rich were getting richer, and the poor, poorer.

This disparity displeased the Lord and the judgment was a return to slavery.

God’s vision for the Kingdom of Israel was that all of his people would share in its prosperity.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the concept of the Year of Jubilee, which was to be celebrated every fifty years.  During the year of Jubilee, or the Year of the Lord’s favor, all debts were to be cancelled, all prisoners set free, and the land was to be returned to the original owners.

Jesus quotes Isaiah in this regard when he begins his ministry with the words:

18 "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

Judgment and punishment for Israel.

Words of hope and comfort in their distress.

And finally, a promise of Good News for the poor as the nation is rebuilt.

We live in interesting times.

As Isaiah did of old, there are many prophets today that warn us about the rich getting richer and the poor poorer.

For many, what has made America a great nation was the emergence of a middle class, people who have shared in the great American dream, who, though they are not rich, have plenty.

Today, we are being warned that the middle class is slipping away.  That as the rich get richer, the rest of us are falling behind.

Wages have not kept pace with inflation.  The cost of living, especially for things as essential as health care, has risen astronomically.

One example of this is that the cost of my health insurance now exceeds what I received in salary the first years I was in ministry. 

I am also struck by the fact that the wages I receive as a woodworker are but a fraction of what I received thirty years ago, when adjusted for inflation.

Are we at a time in our nation’s history similar to those days in Israel’s history when the prophets spoke the words of warning?

I don’t know.

I simply don’t know.

What I do know is that sometimes when we feel most secure, we are in fact most vulnerable.

A day of judgment came to Israel.

Everything that they cherished was lost.

That loss was a judgment of God upon them.

Then and only then, did the words of comfort come to them.

It was like a child, being comforted in their parent’s lap, after having received a spanking.

They misbehaved.  They were punished. And now, they are being reassured that they are still loved.

Judgement.

Comfort.

And Hope.

We confess.

We are forgiven.

And we are reborn.

This is the spiritual cycle of life.

There is a time for confession, a time to hear the comforting words of forgiveness, and a time to live anew in the grace of God.

Part of wisdom is to know what time it is.

I’ve been thinking and praying a lot about this question.

What time is it in the church’s life?

What time is it in our congregation’s life?

Is the decline of the church in America, and of our own congregation, a sign that this is a time of judgment in the life of the church?

Is this a time of comfort where, following a period of judgment, we hear tender words of comfort that reassure us of the never failing love of  God, and that though we have been judged, we are also forgiven?

Or is this the beginning of a new day?  Of the restoration of the church?  A time of hope and anticipation?

One way to put these questions is to ask “have we suffered enough to come to repentance, be forgiven, and be reborn?”

Or are we still secure in our own sins?

One oft quoted adage is that the Gospel is a comfort to the afflicted and an affliction to the comfortable.

I would suggest that one of the ways that you can recognize a false prophet is that false prophets tend to comfort the comfortable and afflict the afflicted.  They say that the rich and powerful are blessed by God, but the poor and outcast are under God’s curse.

Is that what is happening today?  That the comfortable are becoming more comfortable while the afflicted are even more afflicted?

Is this a time of judgment?

A time of comfort?

Or a day filled with hope?

In a few hundred years we may know the answers to those questions.

Today, though, all I can offer you is a promise.

That God is present in the times of judgment.

That God speaks tenderly to us when the time comes that we need such comfort.

And that God remains with us until the day that we are reborn and renewed.

“He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,

and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep.”

These were the words of hope and reassurance Isaiah spoke to Israel as they labored in exile, bereft of hope.

These also are words that speak to us today, regardless what time it is.

God is with us.

Amen.