First Sunday of Advent Yr A Dec 1 2019

Audio  First Sunday of Advent Yr A Dec 1 2019

Isaiah 2:1-5, Romans 13:11-14, Matthew 24:36-44, Psalm 122

Prophecy

We enter into the season of Advent, the season of waiting and preparing. Advent, the season that demands that we be in three whens at once, the when that has been, the when that is now, and the when that is not yet. It is not an easy place to rest.

A hard part of Advent is that we don’t really know what to do with it. Our culture has been at Christmas since Halloween. Completely skipping over the now and not yet hard stuff of Advent, the beginning the middle and the end of this sacred story. Before we arrive at incarnation, God in the flesh, the birth of the baby in a barn, we’ve got some work to do.

Matthew’s gospel gets us started this Advent, this story that traces the days of Noah before the flood, eating and drinking, and knowing nothing of the flood. And then continues with two in the field and one taken, two in the kitchen and one taken. Stay awake, Matthew warns us, stay awake. Not because you are so afraid you cannot sleep, but because God is doing something amazing.

Today we are working on prophecy. Prophecy is a word that has multiple meanings. We have heard it used to talk about telling the future, predicting events. We have heard it used to describe a particular type of preaching, prophetic preaching. Prophecy is a big part of the belief we have of what will be, we may call that end times, we may call that revelation or apocalypse. But for us, here and now, prophecy is a call to change. It is a call to change course, do something differently. To take seriously following Jesus in the here and now, not at some later time. This prophecy calls us to stay awake!

The events that are described in scripture, and specifically in Matthew’s gospel, are signs of God’s awesome power, and they are a terror only to the faithless. Remember, the arc of God’s love bends toward mercy and compassion, there is no reason to be afraid. Sometimes this passage from Matthew has been used to make us afraid. It is one that has been wielded as a weapon to keep us in line as we hope that we are the one to be taken, or raptured, and not left behind.

Prophecy is not to terrify us; prophecy is to call us to change. Sometimes, that change needs be drastic, prophecy may call us from death to life. But not out of fear, but out of love, the love that God shows us in the incarnation, in appearing in the flesh, then, now, and yet to come.

Prophecy, the call to change is all around us. We see it in our climate, we see how important it is that we care for this creation that God gives us, or we will continue to experience the extremes of weather. We see it in our culture, we see how important it is that we treat each other with mercy, compassion, justice, or we will continue to walk down the road of fake news and name calling, disintegration. We see it in our neighborhoods and our families, we see how important it is that we love our neighbor, the ones that don’t look or think or love like us.

Our scripture calls us into this relationship with God through Jesus, that turns us around, that rights us, that heals us. And our scripture shows us that wholeness and healing may not happen in this physical life, but indeed will happen when our hearts and souls are joined with God and the communion of saints in the eternal now.

Prophecy is not only in our scripture. Prophecy, the call to change, is part of our storytelling. The prophetic story shows us a world that may be if humanity doesn’t pay attention or stay awake to what is happening around us. Stories, the world building of novels, can help us see what profound change may be needed in our world today.

Madeleine L’engle’s story, A Wrinkle in Time, begins with a family in sorrow, at the disappearance of the father. The oldest daughter, Meg, her youngest brother, Charles Wallace, and her friend, Calvin, encounter three beings, Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which. These beings call the children into a journey that will save their father and bring new light and hope to the world as well. This is a story that acts as prophecy, a story that shows us what the world might look like if we humans don’t do something different right now. This is a story that calls us to change.

I want to pick the story up at a very dark place, the children have traveled to a very dark world, a world shrouded by a dark cloud. On this dark world they discover an IT, that holds all of the inhabitants in power and fear and has captured not only the father the children are looking for, but the child, Charles Wallace as well. Our hero, Meg, encounters IT, and must free both her father and her brother. Meg discovers the means by which she can free her father and her brother. She must love herself, and she must love others. She must live into her own uniqueness. Meg is indeed the square peg in a world with only round holes. On this dark planet is the lie that they are all happy because they are all alike. On this dark planet is the lie that there is only one way to think and to be, and as long as everyone falls in line, everyone will be happy. It is clear in this prophetic story a world away, that power rules, not love. And power over people results in darkness and death, whereas empowering people through love, and active love, not a romantic feeling, results in freedom.

Darkness and death are dire. Love, the love that is born into our time as a small baby, the love that was put to death on a cross, the love that was raised from the dead, the love that changes us, transforms us, frees us, is what the prophets point us to. This is the love that calls us into life, this is the love that frees us to love fiercely.

Sometimes, I think this prophetic little story is happening today. It seems like there is a darkness covering us. A darkness capable of fragmenting us into pieces of hate. But the light shines in the darkness, the light of love, the light of hope, the light of peace, the light of joy.

The prophets show us the way. You are loved, God’s love in this world matters. Carry that love, that light, into all of the places you find yourself. In this Advent, this coming of God, this incarnation, stay awake, be ready, you are God’s beloved, you belong to God already.

Christ the King Nov 24 2019

Audio  Christ the King Nov 24 2019

Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 46, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

Christ the King Sunday, the ultimate paradox. Christ the King, whose throne is the cross. What we see is not what we get. This particular paradox is difficult for me. Kingship as we have learned throughout history has been much more about tyranny than about justice and mercy and charity.

You may have gathered that my favorite reading material is science fiction and fantasy, with some historical fiction thrown in. There are two books in which I have learned most about the kingship of the cross. In The Horse and His Boy, book 5 in the Chronicles of Narnia series, by C.S. Lewis, King Lune says to his son Prince Cor, “For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there's hunger in the land to laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”

And the other book is a trilogy of stories called collectively The Song of Albion, by Stephen R Lawhead. This is an epic story about a young man who enters into an alternate world, a world of kings and queens, of quests and wars, an alternate world that is quite related to our own world, what happens in one affects the other. Our main character enters this alternate world through one of the thin places of Celtic mythology. Upon entering, he begins to live a new life with new hopes and dreams. Eventually it becomes clear that he is to be the king of this land. He becomes a king who understands his kingship as constituted by the people, he is only king as much as they are his people. He leads his army into the battles, he gives up his coat, his food, for those of his land that need it. Eventually he comes to the time when he must ultimately sacrifice his life for his people, it brings him great sadness, but he does so out of mercy and compassion.

Is there a king that is recorded in the history books like these kings? Most often, history books are about the winners, not the kings who gave their lives for their people. Those kings would be regarded as weak, noneffective, and are quickly forgotten.

Christ the King, whose throne is the cross. Jesus, the shepherd through whom we know God. Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in Jesus all things in heaven and on earth were created. In Jesus all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Jesus God was pleased to reconcile all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the cross.

One of the criminals who was hanged there with Jesus said to him “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” And it is as if Jesus thought to himself, “I am King of the Jews, but I can’t save myself because I am saving you.” Here is the paradox. This is kingship as presented by God through Jesus. It runs absolutely counter to Messiah as it had been conceived in those times, Messiah as those who waited were prepared for.

Jesus, born in a barn, proclaimed as a King, as Mary’s song proclaims, he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts, 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.

We use Kingly language, like sovereign Lord; we use Kingly images, like Christ who sits on a throne, and yet we also tell the story of the baby born in a stable, to parents who had nothing, who grew to be a man who was thrown out of the temple and whose throne is a cross.

Jesus announced the kingdom of God was drawing near. But Jesus upended and undermined the whole concept of kingship. The world’s kingdoms are about power and prestige; Jesus is about mercy and compassion. The rulers of this world may be about coercion and violence; Jesus’ life was characterized by peace and reconciliation.

I think this paradox of Jesus as King, and Jesus as the one who eats with tax collectors and women, whose closest friends were of bunch of smelly fishermen, is the most difficult image for me to reconcile. I am much more comfortable with the Jesus who wears Birkenstocks and jeans and a tee shirt, than Jesus who wears a crown and a robe. Kings spent all of their time building up riches of gold, silver, and jewels, but Jesus owned nothing at all. Kings surround themselves with servants; Jesus chose to be a servant. But, today, we are asked to hold both images in tension, Christ the king, whose throne is a cross, and in so doing we see a fuller picture.

Worldly kingship implies power; power over others, authority over people. But Jesus did not exercise this sort of power and authority. Jesus’ power and authority are shared, not possessed. Jesus’ power is not over people, but with and through people. Kingdom is the inbreaking of a new order, an order that doesn’t just drive out the old order, but that reorders all relationships. The criminal hanging on the cross next to Jesus recognized this power and authority, the power and authority to love absolutely, the power and authority to forgive. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

Jesus, the one who comes to show us the way to God, Jesus, the one who is King of all creation, is at the very same time the one who lived life just like you and me, who loved his friends and family, who suffered and died, just like you and me. For what good is a God who sits back and watches, what good is a God who rules from afar, what good is a God that holds power over people. Jesus is the one who loves, the criminal who hangs next to him, the mother who cries below him, the friends who betray him.

Kingship for Jesus is giving himself totally and absolutely for the love of his people. It is this love that you and I must respond to. It is this love that is transforming love. It is this love that reconciles and redeems. It is this love that causes us to love ourselves, it is this love that causes us to love one another, it is this love that gives us hope. Jesus’ love changes us.

We are changed through the realization that each one of us is loved completely and absolutely, just like that person on the cross next to Jesus, not for what we’ve done or not done, but for who we are. What kind of change happens in us for us to declare, Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom? It is the kind of change that causes each one of us to know that none of us is in this life alone, and none of us gets out of this life alive. It’s the kind of change that causes us to know that perfection is not the way, but love and forgiveness are. It is the kind of change that causes us to serve, like Jesus serves, the person next to us. Whether that person is next to us in our pew here in church, or that person is next to us in line at the grocery store, or that person is the one with whom you disagree most vehemently.

We are changed through the realization that when we fall short of the kind of love Jesus demonstrates for us, and we will fall short, that is part of being human, we are forgiven. Forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing. Forgiveness not just once, but time and time again. Not even just until we get it right, because it’s not about getting it right. It’s about responding to Jesus love with love, and when we don’t, we ask for forgiveness. It’s about responding with love to the encounters along our paths, and when we don’t, we ask for forgiveness.

We begin our Advent journey next week. We begin our preparations for the coming of Christ into our hearts, and into our lives, for all time and all places. We begin our waiting in hope at this place of the cross, and this place of paradox, at this place where kingdom comes, and where love and forgiveness prevail. We begin at the place of remembering, Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. We begin at the place of forgiveness, today you will be with me in Paradise. We begin at the place of grace, for you are absolutely and abundantly loved. Thanks be to God.

23 Pentecost Proper 28 Yr C Nov 17 2019

Audio  23 Pentecost Proper 28 Yr C Nov 17 2019

Malachi 4:1-2a, Psalm 98, 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13, Luke 21:5-19

When I watch people interviewed on the news after a horrible disaster, like the fires in California, they wonder how they’ll survive, they wonder what they’ll do, they wonder why this happened. Life for them has ended as they have known it, and in the midst of such grief it is so very hard to see your way out. Sometimes though, they realize that they are thankful no one died, and it is only stuff that was burnt or blown away. All of us have experienced something like this grief to a degree, some much more than others.

Luke is describing something like this deep, abiding grief in this gospel today. People are talking about the beauty of the temple, and Jesus reminds them of the fate of their temple in Jerusalem. It cannot and will not stand against the oppression of the Roman empire. So Jesus reminds them what happens when a people are willing to trust in God’s new vision for their community.

They may be harassed, bullied, and tormented. Or they may be torn down, torn apart, left for dead. The world in which they live may come tumbling down before the new creation rises out of the rubble. This story that we read in Luke today is a story that is also true in our world today. And it is true in our storytelling. You all know how much I love a good dystopian novel. That is a novel in which the story takes place after some destructive event, and the characters live in a world of violence, or hopelessness. But in the story the characters may begin to build a world with new values, new relationships, new hope. I love to read these stories because I think they tell our human story, yes, at our worst, and yet, they point the reader to something new, something hopeful. These are stories that often show new life, new creation, new vision, arising out of death and destruction. And that is exactly what we have in Luke’s gospel.

And, they tell us something about what might happen if we don’t change our ways, either as individuals or as a community or a nation. A prophetic story, like the one we have before us from Luke’s gospel calls us to change our ways, change our trajectory. I think these stories, the one in scripture, and the one in the novel have a lot to say to each other and to us. Like two characters in a story.

So, there’s a series of novels and the first one is called Divergent. I believe there were movies made, but I don’t usually watch movies made out of novels I love. The setting is in Chicago, after the United States has pretty much self-destructed. Society is structured in factions, or groups of people who live in community and share a particular characteristic. This seemed a good solution to the problems they faced, problems like racism or classism. The factions don’t mix, they all contribute to the whole to make the society work, but the people don’t mix, they don’t become friends, they stay with their own kind. When a child reaches 16, they may make a lifetime choice to change faction, and this choice is made and received often with shunning from the family. It should be clear which faction one is suited for. However, our main character does not fit into one particular category, and eventually she finds others who do not fit, and together they work toward a new vision. Our main character, Tris, and the band of misfits that found each other, had to face their fears, and then to find the strength and talent and community to move toward that new vision. But that new vision cost them a lot.

That society had clear lines and divisions between people, hierarchies of power and prestige. Not so different from the culture that Jesus lived in, and may be not so different from what we have before us today. Jesus was calling his followers and all who he encountered to change, to turn around, to turn toward God and be a part of the new vision that God creates out of the rubble of our lives, the rubble of our very thick walls. This is how prophecy works. This is how stories work, and we need to pay attention.

Jesus calls us to cross the divisions, build the bridges, do not be afraid. Jesus calls us to not live divided as factions, but to live interdependent as a body. Jesus calls us to live the new vision that God is creating for us today. It won’t prevent the temple from falling, and it won’t necessarily prevent the social structure from collapsing, but Jesus never promises it will be easy.

The Good news is that we will not perish, we will gain our souls. You see, the worst thing is not dying, the worst thing is not living. Living as the image of God. The image of God is each and every one of us, the image of God is our beauty and worth, the image of God is our uniqueness and our gift. The image of God is our diversity and our alikeness.

The new vision is not our buildings, that will fall down, or our rules, that will change, or even this most beautiful liturgy, that will pass away. The new vision is each of us created in God’s image, the new vision is a life following Jesus.

Today, we baptize Riley Ann. Her parents bring her to us, her parents come to us, trusting that we embody this community, this new creation, this image of God. In baptism we walk with Jesus and with one another across the divide, through death to new life, across factions to interdependence. In baptism we receive God’s grace, and we have all we need to be God’s agents in the world, to love one another as God has first loved us. In baptism we are equipped to be heralds of the new vision, the new kingdom, in which all creation is welcome, all are God’s beloveds.

Amen.