This week we are looking at Mary's famous song, the Magnificat. As incredible as Mary's response to the angel's news is, we often overlook that at first she is not that excited about this. Initially, she submits to the news, but it takes some time before she celebrates it. Something has to shift before it becomes real and soul-stirring. She has to talk to somebody else. She has to go see her cousin Elizabeth first. Then this news becomes a song of joy that organically erupts from within her. Why is that? What is it about gathering together that makes the reality of Christmas come alive for us, much like it did for Mary? Let's talk about how we get that kind of joy as we dive into the "The Songs of Advent: the Magnificat" (Luke 1:46-56).

Christmas is coming! That news may conjure mixed emotions for many of us as adults, but for the original hearers it was overwhelmingly wonderful news. When joy erupts in our lives that strongly, it often spills out of us in other ways. (There's a reason stores and radio stations start playing certain songs.) Repeatedly in the Gospel of Luke, the response was spontaneous songs of joy - from Zechariah, Mary, the angels and even Simeon. For the next four weeks, as we prepare to celebrate the Incarnation, we're going to reflect on the joy that led them to erupt in hymns of joy and deliverance. We begin this week with the Benedictus: "The Songs of Advent: Zechariah" (Luke 1:67-80).

There is a sickness that makes it very difficult to give thanks - a sense of always needing more, or never believing you have enough. It prevents us from celebrating what we've already been given. This week in our series on the Parables, Jesus gives us a story about a man who is putting his confidence in his possessions, followed directly by a lot of teaching about worry. Those two things are deeply interrelated. Putting our confidence in our 'stuff' is a very fragile security that will inevitably invite worry; and it is virtually impossible to be thankful when your are constantly worried. Let's talk about how "What You Treasure" can become the sickness that prevents thankfulness or a gift that cultivates a life of gratitude (Luke 12:13-34)

This week we come to the famous parable of the Publican and the Pharisee. Jesus tells a story with a good guy and a bad guy. We hear both of their prayers, but Jesus stuns his hearers when it is actually the bad guy who receives God's approval. For those of us overly familiar with this parable, we tend to gloss over the very thing that made this so stunning for Jesus' original hearers - namely, how genuinely good the Pharisee is, especially by our modern standards. Yet if we don't wrestle with that, we miss the very joy Jesus intends here. How can our goodness be a barrier to our joy? Let's talk about why Jesus so often seems to have a bigger beef with the good guys than the bad guys: "The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly" (Luke 18:9-14).

We have repeatedly said that Jesus' parables are meant to be beautifully annoying, yet this week we come to one that is specifically about annoyance. A widow who is not getting justice decides to keep pestering a judge until she gets it. Why would Jesus tell us this story? In a rare exception, we are told in advance explicitly what this parable is about: to encourage us to pray and not lose heart. But this doesn't seem like a very encouraging story. She just keeps knocking and knocking on his door. It sounds exhausting. How could this story be helpful to us, much less be good news for disheartened people? As always, there's a joy here that Jesus wants us to go away ruminating upon - how we've misunderstood the incredible gift of prayer. Let's talk about a "Hard-Knock Life" (Luke 18:1-8)

This Sunday we come to the parable of the Great Banquet, which is perfect for a communion Sunday. Certainly it should be noted that Jesus is showing us that he loves to throw a great party, but he tells a story of a great party where many are simply "too busy" to come, despite having RSVP'd. So the host invites the beggars to come instead. Unlike the 'important' people, the beggars gladly drop everything to come. This sort of social is what many would purposefully avoid, yet this is what Jesus says the kingdom of God is like? What is he revealing about us, especially about our mistaken notions of what bring lasting joy, or - more directly - about what should be worth rearranging our calendar? Join us as we talk about "The Feast for the Least" (Luke 14:15-24)

"That's not fair!" Every kid knows this phrase instinctively. Someone else got more candy. Someone else is getting to play. Or worse yet: I studied hard to get an A on the test, but the teacher gifted everyone an A?! If kids were adults, they'd probably start dropping buzzwords like: 'Inequity! Injustice! Travesty! Who is the tyrant who would perpetuate such an outrage?' Enter the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. Jesus tells a story where a landowner hires folks at varying times during a day, but - at the end of the day - everyone gets the same pay. You can envision the lawsuits. Yet Jesus sees no injustice and instead says "I paid you what we agreed; do you resent my generosity?" Why does this aggravate us so much? If God is a God of justice (and he is), what is he revealing about our hearts and his? What lens gives him joy where we see only bitterness? Let's talk about "No Fair!" (Matthew 19:30-20:16).

This week we are looking at the famous parable of the lost sheep. Jesus tells this story of a shepherd leaving a large herd seemingly unattended to go after one wayward sheep. Modern ears hear that story and begin to wonder about professional negligence, but his original audience would have heard clear echoes of Ezekiel 34 - a passage aimed directly at spiritual leaders. Additionally, the context is telling. Jesus gives three parables in a row about searching for lost things (eg, a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son), but all come in response to grumbling leaders. What is it about muttering and grumbling that elicits such a strong corrective from Jesus? Why does he regard such discontentedness as so deadly for our spiritual lives? What kind of joy does he offer that could heal our discontent? Let's talk about the joy of heaven hidden in the math of "99-to-1" (Luke 15:1-7).

This week we come to a parable where Jesus teaches about mustard and biscuits. Aside from being a really dated movie reference, I love how raw and unpretentious this image is. As usual, his parables are about the kingdom of God, and they are designed to surprise. In this case, where you'd expect grandiose images of his kingship, he instead points at a shrub and a cook in the kitchen. What kind of king has a shrub for his state tree? And how does making bread demonstrate the economics of his kingdom? Jesus is not just challenging their ideas about what a king looks like or even how his kingdom grows; he's challenging what they think 'growth' and 'advancement' mean for their own lives. Let's talk about how his kingdom advances like "Mustard & Biscuits" (Matthew 13:31-33).

We've said that Jesus designed his parables to tease us into active thought. That often means looking for the surprise in the story. This week it is right on the surface. Jesus gives the example of a dishonest manager who is wasting his owner's possessions, but the owner finds out. And once the manager realizes he is about to be fired, he uses the remaining time to cut deals with clients. It's the sort of thing we might label as exploitation or at least deception. It seems very unethical. But here comes the surprise: Jesus uses it as a positive example to challenge his followers. Certainly Jesus is not encouraging dishonesty, so what is he commending? What might it look like for 'sons of light' to be so calculating with God's resources? Let's talk about "The Taming of the Shrewd"

Luke 16:1-12