Your Faith Journey - Finding God Through Words, Song and Praise

The turning of the calendar year has a way of instilling an expectation of new beginnings, a promise of hope that life and present circumstances will get better.  And, quite frankly, as we think of the suffering the world has experienced this past year, the horror of this pandemic, the hundreds of thousands of people who have died and will die before the pandemic is over, the millions of job losses, the businesses that have been impacted, the racial injustice and political unrest, many of us begin this year with a deep longing and yearning for renewed hope, a hope that 2021 will be better than 2020.  Yes, the turning of the year has a way of offering us a sense of rekindled hope and the beginning of a new chapter in life.

Our readings today also provide us with words of hope, new life, and new beginnings.  Jeremiah proclaims a message of hope to people scattered and displaced in exile.  Jeremiah says God will save the people, God will gather the people together and bring them back to their homeland.  God will recreate God’s people and turn their mourning into joy.  For each one of us, we presently feel as though we have been scattered because of this pandemic.  We feel a certain kind of displacement and we deeply long to gather again.  While we now have a renewed sense of hope with the development of a vaccine, Jeremiah’s words also provide us with hope of new beginnings.  You see, God is the one who will ultimately gather us, bring us together again as a community of faith, recreate us as God’s very own and make us new.  In fact, that has been something God has been doing from the beginning of time.  We hear more about that in today’s gospel reading where we receive a word that is all about newness and new beginnnings as we hear John’s telling of the Jesus story.  We find the author of this gospel introducing a daring, audacious, bold message that tells of a whole new beginning for humankind, a whole new beginning for the world.

The writer of John’s gospel begins presenting the Jesus story in a very lofty, grand manner.  And, in doing so, he is so gutsy in his telling of this new beginning through the person of Jesus that his first words to us are “In the beginning….”  If we have any understanding of Biblical literature, we will recognize that these three words are also the beginning words in the book of Genesis.  You will remember that in that first book of the Hebrew Bible we read, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”  John’s use of these three words is very intentional.  John wants his readers to know that in Jesus, we live into the beginning of a whole new creation.  The writer of John’s gospel is intentionally connecting us to the book of Genesis because, in the person of Jesus, he sees a new beginning of history, of humanity and of God’s involvement in all of creation.  In John’s telling of the Jesus story, he wants us to understand that, through the incarnate Word, Jesus the Christ, the Word made flesh, we will find a very living, breathing promise of new life. John’s story about Jesus is designed from beginning to end not just to tell us, but to evoke for us, the living, breathing promise of a new beginning to all of human history in and through the incarnate Word, Jesus the Christ. That’s why he patterns his opening after Genesis. By connecting the Jesus story to Genesis, John is stipulating nothing less than this:  God poured God’s own self into human form.  Jesus is the eternal Word, the eternal Word that was God’s proactive agent in the creation of all things – even life itself.  And, this eternal Word continues to create and make all things new!

For all of us, as much as we want and deeply desire to see God, we cannot literally do so.  Our inability to literally see God seems much more apparent in times of great need, in times when the darkness of life seems to overwhelm life itself, in times like this present pandemic experience.  That darkness might come to us personally through illness, death, job loss, depression, loneliness, or tragedy.  At times like these, we are keenly aware that we are simply unable to literally see God.  As our country experiences so much illness, suffering, racial injustice, and the many forms of hatred espoused upon others, we collectively experience darkness and are keenly aware of our limitations when it comes to seeing God.  So, because of our limitations, God becomes human in the person of Jesus.  God becomes human that we may see God.  In the person of Jesus, God becomes accessible to us.  In Jesus, the eternal God becomes finite and vulnerable, all for our sake so that we may see the very heart of God.  No longer is God a disembodied voice from some distant place.  The incarnation enables us to see that not only is Jesus like God, God is like Jesus, and has always been!  God loves us so deeply that God is lovingly and graciously present to us even in the darkest places and times of life.  And, all of the darkness that ever existed, that is present now, or that will exist in the future is unable to overcome the light of the eternal Word, the Word that creates and recreates the world, the Word made flesh, the very life force that continually animates the entire created order – even you and me. 

Oh yes, John wants us to fully understand that, in the person of Jesus, God is doing something very, very new.  God is not finished creating. God continues to create because God is the Creator, and there is always new beginning, as John begins his Jesus story by saying, “In the beginning.” The need for new creation is lodged in God’s truth that new creation is essential to the world, essential to God’s character, and essential to how God wants to be in the world. “In the beginning” is God as Creator, then and now, in the past, in the present and in the future. “In the beginning” is the memory of God making all things new. “In the beginning” is the promise of God’s steadfast love, there, then, here, and now. “In the beginning” is the promise that God will never let us go, no matter what happens, no matter what the future brings. This is the meaning of those three words: God says new things. God is new things. God becoming human is “in the beginning” in its fullest form. It is light once again. It is the goodness of humanity once again. It is God recreating God’s very self because that is who God is and that is what we are and will continue to be as believers – reborn children of God. “The Word became flesh and lived among us.” This flesh. Skin and bones. God pitched a tent among us in flesh and bones. God becoming flesh means God gets flesh! God understands what it feels like and what it means to be human. And because of that, God will never give up on what God has created. Nothing is beyond God’s reach. God realized that we human beings, God’s beautiful creations, we need to experience re-creation on a regular basis. Otherwise, life is too much about death. We need this promise – the promise of God’s commitment to recreating God’s very self, our selves, and the world. It’s the creation story all over again: God created the heavens and the earth, God created humankind in God’s own image, and God created you!

Friends, the coming of the Word made flesh has enabled those who follow Jesus, each one of us, to embody God’s creative Word.  Jesus is not alone in this Word made flesh business.  The creative, living Word is still at work in and through us.  Because of God’s decision to come to us in a form we recognize, in Jesus the Christ, we are empowered to reach out to those around us. By the grace of God and, through baptism, through bread and wine, and through the work of the Spirit, God is at work putting skin on God’s Word through us.  And, we are called to continually bear God’s creative and redeeming Word in this world and carry God’s Word of life to others through all that we do and the way in which we live.  In the person of Jesus, God has invaded this broken world and God is working through God’s people, shining the light of God’s presence even in the darkest places of the world, even right here and right now. 

So, on this first Sunday of the new year, the message we are given is all about newness, all about hope, all about recreation and all about being made new. God is at work and about the business of making us new and making all things new.

This is a recording of the service from 12-27-20. It is a rebroadcast of last year's Sunday after Christmas. It is a compilation of readings and carols.

Tonight’s gospel reading begins with three very important words: In those days!  “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.”  As we think about this treasured story, I am going to say something that just may shatter some of your preconceived notions.  I must tell you, there is no historical evidence that this decree, as told by Luke, ever took place.  And, unless there is something we do not know, the writer of Luke’s gospel also seems to be incorrect about Quirinius or Herod the Great or both because traditional dating of the birth of Jesus would locate it during the reigns of neither Herod the Great nor Quirinius.  So, what is going on here?  Well, Luke is not interested in giving an historical account of Jesus’ birth because he is interested in proclaiming a much deeper truth!

Luke gives us this information, not as history, but as a theological work to tell the story of One who has come into this world to change and quite literally shatter the status quo.  Luke’s gospel, more than any of the other gospels, addresses the social, cultural, and political environment. So, Luke gives us this information as a way of setting the political and social context for the coming appearance of this One we call Jesus and the astonishing, awesome arrival of a brand-new world. Luke begins with “In those days…” as he depicts a time of census taking and taxes, a time of authoritative orders and pronouncements, a time shaped by business as usual in a world organized by accepted oppressive power structures, a world where those in power work to maintain the tired and hopeless status quo. The setting of Luke’s version of the Jesus story begins in the context of manifest political power, a context that, quite frankly, describes almost any time in history.  Luke names the status quo way political, economic, and social forces shape our lives and our minds and our hearts to the point where we think that is the only reality. You see, that is the story of the world, that is the human story, the story of our human predicament.  That is the story of “in those days.”

Yes, this gospel begins by naming the story of the status quo, tired and hopeless, business as usual human predicament of “in those days.,” so that we can begin to grasp the earth-shattering news that is announced about “This day…!”  You see, a new time, a whole new age, has entered the world on “this day…” in the most unexpected way – in the form of a small, vulnerable baby.  And, this new time is characterized not by the drudgery of business as usual or the threat of imperial power, but by the inbreaking of the heavenly realm, the wonder of the songs of angels, and the “good news of great joy for all people!”  For “this day” has a political dimension; this new time is a direct challenge to the imperial world of “in those days.”  There is a new Savior, a title formerly reserved only for the emperor.  And, this new Savior comes in the form of a vulnerable baby, as God is birthing a whole new creation.  This new day brings the extraordinary wonder of God becoming flesh – Immanuel, God with us.  Can you now begin to grasp the magnitude of this earth-shattering news? 

Friends, on this night, the news we receive is astounding, and we dare not forget the scandal and magnitude of this news, news of both the cradle and the cross.  We dare not be lulled by our culture’s attempts to sentimentalize Christmas. We all do it and to be honest, it even happens in the church. Think for a moment about how our own hymnody conspires to tame this festival day into something more palatable and more feel good. Consider the opening of the beloved carol O Little Town of Bethlehem. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.” Lovely words from Phillips Brooks.  But, if we think about the tumultuous history of the Middle East, imagining Bethlehem as peaceful more expresses a longing than a historical reality. And what about Away In A Manger telling us, “The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes?” No crying? Any nurse or doctor would call that a zero on the Apgar score and would start resuscitation attempts immediately. Seriously, while we need these images to help us ponder the wonder and mystery of this night, they also soften and sentimentalize the scandal and earth-shattering nature of Christmas.  Between sentimentality, emotional burdens, the pain so many are presently feeling, and unrealistic cultural expectations, perhaps we need this child of God to shake up what we have made of Christmas. 

Friends, the reality is we come together this night to pay honor to our God who subversively came to change everything!  And, how does God create this earth-shattering disruption?  By bringing unconditional, transformational love to the world. This subversive God snuck into the back door of history on a mission to truly disrupt and change the world by turning our lives inside out and upside down with a love that truly changes us, a love that can transform everything and everyone. Coming as one of us – vulnerable, poor, and powerless – he came to upend the world as we have constructed it by bringing love into the world, a love the world would otherwise have never known.

He came to shatter our selfishness and narcissism, so that we might be able to love God and others. He came to shatter our fear of death, so that we might be able to live more fully and freely in this life. He came to shatter and change the political systems that choose who is in and who is out, so that we might embrace a wider vision the human family and discover that God’s family includes all people. He came to shatter our tendency of tribalism, something we presently see pushed to the extreme as it pits one group against another. He came to change our economy of values to build a different one based on valuing the eternal and life that truly matters. He came to shatter the old regimes of “in those days,” and bring in a whole new regime. Yes, he came to shatter every structure we try to build which puts us first at the expense of everyone else.  He came to change us, and he calls us to follow him.

This is no small thing. For 2000 plus years, people have gathered to mark the birth of Christ as God’s subversive way of dwelling among us.  Tonight, as we gather in the darkness of this pandemic, even if our gathering is online, we gather to celebrate this subversive God and mark a vision of the kingdom of God unfolding right here in our midst.  And we do this because to you is born this day a Savior, who is the Messiah, Christ the Lord.  May the wonder and mystery of this holy child disrupt and change your life, and bring you renewed hope not only on this day, but on every day as we move forward into yet another year.  And, may the grace and love of this child be planted in your heart so that you may more deeply come to know how immeasurably you are loved by the God of all creation!

I would like to share with you the words of a new Advent hymn by David Bjorlin, a hymn that so beautifully describes what I am feeling in the deepest part of my being at this present time.  These are the verses:

Come now, O God, when our love is forsaken.

Come, when our bedrock of faith has been shaken.

Come, when our deepest of hopes are mistaken.

Come, Emmanuel.  Come, Emmanuel.

Come, when we squander the freedom you gave us.

Come, break the systems of sin that enslave us.

Come, though we wonder if you can still save us.

Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.

Come, put an end to our self-serving madness.

Come, while the world is enshrouded in sadness.

Come, turn the tears of our mourning to gladness.

Come, Emmanuel.  Come, Emmanuel.

Advent is a time to acknowledge and be honest about our longing for God to break into what was and what is.  It is a time to articulate our longing for God to break into our forsaken love, our shaken faith, our mistaken hopes, the skewed ways we have squandered and abused the freedom we have been given, the systems of sin that enslave us, our self-serving madness, the world’s sadness, and our grieving tears.  This longing we express with the words, “Come, though we wonder if you can still save us,” makes clear to me that we, on our own as human beings, are not capable of creating our own salvation.  And, quite honestly, we do not even have the capacity to imagine the ways of God.  The salvation we so long for is always something that must come from beyond us, beyond our own human understanding. The ways of God need to disrupt our present situation and break into our lives for us to become changed. And, we cannot anticipate how God will act, how God will break into human history – how God will surprisingly break into our history in truly unexpected ways.

So, as we live this season, I envision Advent as a time that could be compared to something like a hinge – it is a liminal, transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension. Advent invites us to be aware and to discern, to notice where a holy disruption breaks into what is and brings transformation. It is about being aware of the places where God is breaking into this world, where God is at work in our world, and where God is at work in our lives.

This year the tension of that liminal, transitional space has been especially strong. In the face of this pandemic, as we see thousands of people dying, as we see the growing economic blight, and the political self-serving madness and strife, quite frankly the peace foretold by ancient prophets seems illusory at best. The justice that makes valleys low and rough places a plain seems far off in face of oppressive, racist systems that scapegoat immigrants and devalue lives of color. And, when we consider our personal challenges and pains, and those of our family and friends, it can be confusing and very overwhelming. That is why, today’s gospel reading is such good news!  

Today, as we look at our gospel reading, we can learn from Mary’s example.  In today’s reading, Luke tells us that redemption is possible and, in fact, has already happened.  Because of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the Universal Christ, the holy continues to break into our lives to bring us ever more closely to the completion of creation.

When we look at today’s gospel, Mary, just like us, seems to be confused and overwhelmed. As we look at Mary’s response to Gabriel’s message, we discover she really does not fully comprehend the meaning of this news and, in fact, she has a choice in how she will respond. Theologian, Barbara Brown Taylor, addresses with deep insight the question of Mary's "choice," her freedom to respond in this most unusual situation in which she finds herself. Taylor says that, yes, the angel announced the impending birth and did not ask Mary for her assent, but there is a choice for Mary, "whether to take hold of the unknown life the angel held out to her or whether to defend herself against it however she could.” As she receives this news from God, Mary asks, “How can this be?” And then, she becomes not simply a passive recipient of this news.  She responds by saying yes to this experience.  She actively becomes a willing partner in the holy disruption that befalls her.  And, because of her response, Mary’s womb gives birth to the Son of God and new life to the world.

Today’s gospel reading is all about the incarnation, it is about Emmanuel, God with us.  Friends, this story of Mary is truly OUR story.  It is about incarnate Love, incarnate Love that is with us, not just in a manger long ago but reborn in each one of us, reborn in the here and now.  It is about saying yes to God’s incarnate love as it breaks into the most unexpected places and in the most surprising ways in each of our lives, saying yes so God is again born into this world. The 13th century philosopher, theologian, and mystic Meister Eckhart (1260-1328) echoes this when he writes: 

We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly, but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to God’s very Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of Man is begotten in us.

Yes, Mary’s story is our story.  Incarnation is an ongoing and steady process, not just a historic event.  And, like Mary, we are given the gift of choice. Mary had the freedom to respond in this most unusual situation, and we are given this freedom as well. We can decide whether to take hold of the unknown life God holds out to us, even in these present, challenging circumstances, or whether to defend ourselves against it however we might.

Taylor says, “We have a similar choice between possibilities in our own lives.  We can respond by saying yes or no: yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me or no, I will not.... You can say no to your life, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again." And then, Taylor takes a bold turn that calls for courage on our part.  She says, “If we say yes to our lives, you can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body." ("Mothers of God," is in Gospel Medicine).

So, friends, I ask you, how are you bearing God in this world?  When we say yes, we become transformed, we are forever changed, and the world becomes transformed as we continue to give birth to the very life of Christ among us.  When we say yes, we become a part of this movement that is the birthing of the growing Universal Christ in this world.  And, the coming of Christ always brings forth a love, a peace and justice that transform the very world around us.  You see, the love, peace and justice which come from God to transform the world, then work through us as we collectively act and live it in this world.

So, as we come to the end of this season of Advent, naming our longing for God to break in to what is and bring forth salvation, as we live in that transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension, we do this knowing that Christ is breaking in and Christ will continue to break in to the deep brokenness of this world.  As we move through this week and again experience the coming of the Christ child, we know this birth means it is time for us to give birth to the Universal Christ.  And, then it is time for the work of Christmas to truly begin, the “work of Christmas” Howard Thurman writes about when he says:

When the song of the angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and princes are home, when the shepherds are back with their flocks, the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people, to make music in the heart.

Walter Brueggemann, one of my favorite theologians, when reflecting on this time in the church year, writes the following, “Advent does not begin in buoyancy or celebration or in a shopping spree.  The natural habitat of Advent is a community of hurt.  It is the voice of those who know profound grief, who articulate it and do not cover it over.”

Yes, that is our habitat as we experience Advent, especially this year, and I have been deeply feeling the hurt, the pain, and the grief.  Ours are voices of those who know profound grief.  We are in a very dark place at the present time and it is imperative that we articulate the pain and grief and not cover it over.  It is also imperative that we listen to those who speak truth as we experience this grief.  We are living in a culture in which “truth decay” (a term recently coined by President Obama) seems to permeate every facet of our life, and it is critical in this dark time that we listen to those who witness to the truth, not those who spew forth toxic conspiracy theories, lies and misinformation.  Right now, in the depth of our pain, it is vital that we listen to the scientists and medical professionals because they are the ones who point to the truth and point us to what we need to do to eventually reach the light at the end of this very dark tunnel.  They are the ones who testify to the truth, a truth to which we must listen because that truth to which they testify is ultimately life-giving during this dark time.

I say this because, when looking at today’s gospel reading, at the time when John appeared on the scene, the people were hurting and facing much suffering.  And, this character, John, enters the scene as one who comes bearing witness to the truth.  In today’s reading, we meet John, the first human mentioned in the Gospel of John.  This lone character, John, is the star of today’s show and he is a man sent from God.  It is important to note that he is not identified as John the Baptist as we find in Matthew’s gospel.  He is not identified as John the baptizer as in Mark.  And, he is not identified as John the son of Zechariah as in Luke.  He is simply identified as John.  He is John the Witness.  While he is described as doing some general baptizing here and there, a careful read of this gospel writer’s story of Jesus' baptism reveals that John does not even baptize Jesus. His primary role is not as one who baptizes but one who testifies to the light coming into the world.  In John’s gospel, this John character is a very human witness to a cosmic event. You see, God is about the business of ordering a new creation, a new presence of light in the world, but this effort necessitates a fellow human to point to the presence of this light.  Otherwise, human as we are, we might not see it.  So, that human is John.

Smack dab in the middle of the out of this world, beyond time and space beginnings of this fourth gospel, interrupting the unfolding of a truly cosmic birth story, John appears, testifying to the light.  Well, his testimony brings on all kinds of questions.  So down from the capital come the interrogators, and the result is a fierce press conference. “Who do you think you are?” “Do you think you’re the messiah?” “Are you representing yourself as Elijah?” “Why are you baptizing like this?” “What do you say about yourself?” The questions ricochet like rifle shots bouncing off walls. The aim of these questioners is to reveal some damaging information, some falsehood, to show that this threatening figure of John is just a cracked and broken cistern like the rest of humanity.  After all, just maybe he does think he is Elijah incarnate, or worse, fancies himself the actual messiah and comes seeking fame and glory. If so, you can be certain John’s message will be tried, twisted, and tested like the message of a politician on the campaign trail. He will likely be dubbed a damaged and flawed human being, full of worldly ambition and self-delusion.

But John’s answer is quite surprising. “It’s not about me,” he replies. “I’m pointing beyond myself to one who comes after me, to the Lamb of God. My whole life has now become a gesture to what God is doing to shake the foundations of the status quo and re-create the world.”  You see, because John has a holy vocation, not merely a human ambition, the fear of exposure before the glare of interrogation simply vanishes. He does not fear!  He seems to say, “Find all the flaws you want and smoke out all the vanities you can find. The meaning of my life is not in what you think about me, but how you respond to the one to whom my life points.”

John identifies himself in, with, and by his relationship to the light, to the One who is coming, to the One known as Jesus, to the One who is shaking the status quo and recreating the world. And, whereas the One who is coming, this One who is recreating the world, defines himself as "I AM," John is clear to say, "I am not." He is not the Messiah, Elijah, or the Prophet. He is not the light that shines in the darkness. Yet, even in his resolute claims about who he is not, who he is and why he is here is defined by and inseparable from the presence of the Word made flesh in his midst. He knows nothing but to articulate his identity and live out that identity in connection to Jesus' identity.  John’s sole vocation in this fourth gospel is to bear witness to the Word made flesh, to bear witness to the light.  In fact, in this gospel, John is the lead witness on Jesus’ behalf. 

It is fascinating to note that the verb “witness” is used thirty-three times in the gospel of John but only twice in the entirety of the other three gospels. John’s role in this gospel is to recognize the true light when it appears and to testify to that light. John does not fear as he stakes his very life on his call to testify to the light so that others may recognize it and believe – that is, recognize, trust in, and commit themselves to the light.  John truly understands his role and who he is.  He is not the Messiah.  That job has already been filled.  He simply lives his life pointing to the Messiah.

Like the man whose name was John, the church, and that means each one of us, is sent into today's world as a witness.  And, when we look at today’s reading and John’s witness, we find we may characterize this witness as public, certain, and humble.  These qualities are most certainly in tension with the spirit of our age. Most people today regard religion as a private matter. Most people want to keep their personal beliefs quiet, staying safe and cocooned in their comfortable and all too often misinformed bubble, not getting their hands dirty because any other way of living is too risky.   Furthermore, certainty and truth are also shunned in these postmodern times.  Yes, “truth decay” permeates our culture and we are all victims of our own perspectives and the bubbles in which we live.  Truth has become so relative – who can ever know for sure whether anything is true or not? In fact, a focus on truth is something that seems harder and harder to find. Still, we who claim to follow Jesus are audacious enough to believe that the gospel is true, and that it must be lived out in our daily lives and proclaimed boldly – publicly and confidently, without fear.  The trick is to bear witness to this truth with humility. For John, and for each of us, that means directing people away from self and toward Jesus.

In this Advent season, our reading on this Sunday calls us to trust God’s living Word to us in the person of Jesus Christ, and to live out our faith by trusting in and pointing to the One who is greater than ourselves.  As we do that in this present time, we acknowledge our pain and the fact that we presently live in a world where, as Walter Brueggemann says, “the kingdom of death is surging – in the virus, in the failed economy that breeds starvation for many, in our ready embrace of brutality, [in the hatred and racism that plagues our culture], and in the surge of anti-neighborly, fearful greed.  This is the truth that is right in front of us.  It is not however, the whole truth.  It is not the truth entrusted to us. The truth entrusted to us is that there is a ‘coming one,’ [the One to whom we point] who in actual bodily ways rescues from the power of death.” Come, Lord Jesus, come!

We all have certain things in life that provide us with a sense of comfort when we feel stressed out or feel we need a bit of solace.  Food is one thing that probably provides a kind of comfort for all of us in one way or another. There are some comfort foods I simply love – like the brie and lobster grilled cheese sandwich on sourdough bread at River House in Williamston. I could relish eating that sandwich every single day. As I savor the flavors of the soft, warm brie and the tender pieces of delicious lobster meat, each luscious bite provides a feeling of wellbeing and comfort. Sitting downstairs in our family room with a fire burning in the fireplace on a cold snowy evening, while at the same time reading a book and having a glass of wine, is another experience that provides a stress relieving sense of comfort for me.

We are presently experiencing some very stress-filled, grief laden, anxiety producing days. And, as we look at Isaiah’s words to us on this day, they provide us with an experience of comfort that is truly gift as we hear, “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.”  When I initially read these words, I felt them in a deep, even guttural way, as they touched my very soul.  They are words I needed to hear. It was truly soothing to receive this word and experience a feeling of comfort that deeply touched my spirit, even to the point that I began to breath more deeply. Reading these words also made me very aware of the depth of my own discomfort and dis-ease and, quite likely, these words may also make you aware of the depth of your discomfort and dis-ease in this present time.

This first reading comes from second Isaiah when the prophet was speaking and writing to people who were living in exile in Babylon.  In 586 BCE, the Jerusalem Temple had been destroyed, the people had been taken captive, then led away to exile in Babylon.  Isaiah is speaking to people who have been living in exile. And, I have no doubt that part of their exile experience included living with abusive, harsh, weaponized, hurtful, and critical language. So, Isaiah’s tender words must have been like a healing balm for the people.  You see, words really do matter.  Words shape us and mold us, for better or worse!  Words can be hurtful, damaging, and injurious, or they can be healing, life-giving and comforting.

This whole passage is a kind of embrace. It begins with words of comfort and ends with the image of a “mighty God.”  However, the “mighty God” image is not that of a mighty warrior, not one of a returning hero, but rather the image of a caring, tender shepherd.  Isaiah speaks of a shepherd feeding and leading his flock, gathering lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and gently leading the mother sheep.

I ask you, as we are honest about the dis-comfort and dis-ease we have been experiencing, what better image is there than that of a God who embraces you, takes you up and holds you close in God’s very arms, whispers in your ear that you are loved, and says, “It’s going to be ok!”  This is an image of the very arms of God pulling her children close, pulling each one of you close! Yes, there is so much discomfort in our hearts these days, both individually and collectively.  There is discomfort because of the abusive, harsh, hateful, weaponized rhetoric that has been hitting us like bullets for the past few years; discomfort because of this pandemic; discomfort, distress and grief because so many people are dying; discomfort and hardship because millions of people are out of work; discomfort and anguish because millions will likely be losing their homes; and, discomfort and suffering because millions of people are food insecure and that number is growing on a daily basis.  So many voices, so many needs, so much pain, so much death, so much sickness – and sometimes you just need to be hugged!  You don’t need too many words, just a presence, a touch.  At a time when we are unable to be such a physical presence to one another because of this pandemic, these words today seem to provide that needed touch. They are a healing, life-giving hug from a loving God as God holds us and says, “Everything will be all right.”  For each one of you who might need an embrace because everything seems just so challenging right now, I encourage you to take a moment and picture yourself being taken into God’s loving arms and held close to God’s bosom as God offers you words of comfort saying, “It’s going to be ok!” This God in whom we trust truly does comfort the afflicted.

As we look again at our reading from Isaiah, we discover there is more, something else that is very important for us to understand.  In the middle of the passage between words of comfort and the tender image of being carried in the bosom of God, we are given things to do and things to be about. Yes, right in the middle of this passage we receive words that truly speak to my heart and my passions.  Right in the middle of this lovely reading come words that, to me, are thrilling when we hear:

A voice cries out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.  Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low: the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.  Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.

Friends, you see, we are comforted and spoken tenderly to so that we can be about the business of comforting others!  We are comforted so that we can be about the business of leveling the playing field and creating access for every beloved child of God who yearns to be safe, who yearns to make a living, who yearns to be educated, who yearns for a job, who yearns to provide food on the family table, who yearns and struggles with the dis-ease of economic blight, who yearns to just have enough but instead wakes up every day with the discomfort of poverty and dead ends and mountains too high to climb.

Inspiring, motivational speakers are always telling our young people, “Anything you want to become you can become, if you work hard enough.” Now, I am all for individual responsibility and hard work, and there are stories of remarkable triumphs out of the depth of despair and depravity – but, we have to be realistic and understand that, generally speaking, this kind of encouragement is patently false.  It is false because, for far too many people in our culture and our world, the decks are stacked against them, the valleys are far too deep, the mountains are far too high, the ghettos are far too rough, and the playing field is so unevenly tipped towards those who have money, influence, connections, power, the right gender and race. This is true and the exceptions only prove the rule.

So, today, we hear Isaiah’s voice come to us resounding through the ages saying, “YOU – the so-called beloved community – you prepare the way of the Lord!” And it is of profound importance that you understand the arrangement of these verses. For only after the highway is made straight, and the valleys are lifted up, and the mountains are made low, and the uneven ground is leveled and the rough places are made a plain… only after the way is prepared will the glory of the Lord be revealed, and then the people will see!  You see, when we have joined God in building the beloved community – the presence of the Lord will be self-evident to everyone!

Friends, as we wait for God’s coming, for the birth of the Christ child, we do not wait passively!  We wait while actively participating in God’s living, creative, redeeming Word. Too often we passively wait instead of actively participate in God’s call to work for change in people’s lives and in our culture. Advent is a time to face our discomfort, to turn around and turn back to God and, as we wait, participate in the coming of God’s living, creative Word to the world. Friends, God works through us to change peoples’ lives, to change culture, and to make all things new. As we actively bear God’s creative and redeeming Word, we go to the places where people languish, we do the work of leveling the playing fields, sharing the abundance, and occupying the rough places with words and acts of hope, of equity, of fairness, of love, and of justice.  And, as we prepare the way for the coming of our Lord, we point to not just the Christ child, but the universal risen Christ as we lift our voices, proclaiming good tidings of hope and comfort, saying, “Here is your God!”

Someone recently mentioned to me that it seems like our country has changed over the past years from one that wanted to be good to one that wants to feel good. I tend to agree. And, quite honestly, as we experience this horrific pandemic with thousands of people dying, the deep divisiveness among people, the acute pain and profound woundedness in our culture, I really do understand the desire to feel good, to long for a feel good sense of hope within ourselves. The truth is, we are a brokenhearted people, and the desire to feel hope is normal. I deeply feel that desire within myself.  In fact, I will confess that is why I will sit and watch a Hallmark movie because there is always a happy ending that evokes a feel-good sense of hope. Yet, that feel good sense of hope is very short lived. Frankly, our culture is very good at offering all kinds of things and stuff that provide a short-lived, feel good hope. But such hope does not last because it is a false hope.  Friends, far too often we try to stem our hurt by running away from our pain to selfishly focus on what makes us feel good. However, we cannot create the hope and peace we so desire by focusing on self. Real hope only comes by facing our pain and opening our hearts to God.  And, real hope is what comes with a broken, vulnerable, open heart that is willing to be mended. 

In today’s Old Testament reading, Isaiah is speaking to people who have returned to Jerusalem following political exile in Babylon.  They, too, desired hope and they did not sense God’s presence to them. We hear the prophet Isaiah waiting and calling out for God to break into the peoples’ lives.  Isaiah calls the people to repent, to turn back to God, and he laments and prays to God saying, “No eye has seen any God besides you who works for those who wait.” Isaiah pleads that God would tear open the heavens and break into the lives of the people to bring hope, peace, and a restored life. 

As we begin Advent, we begin a time of waiting. Like Isaiah, we wait and we, too, pray that God breaks into our lives, bringing the promise of hope, peace, and restored life. However, Advent waiting is not a form of passive waiting and watching.  It is a time to allow ourselves to turn back to God, to become vulnerable, to open up our lives, our hearts, and our souls with active anticipation as we trust God’s promises to us. It is a time to live with our hearts broken open so that compassion, caring and God’s reckless love can find a way to break into our hearts and the heart of the world.  

As we look at today’s gospel reading from Mark, we are given words that ultimately address the brokenness of our hearts.  Initially, the 13th chapter of the gospel of Mark is frightening and chilling to read.  And, while it has sometimes been interpreted as a prediction of the future to frighten future generations, we must look at the historical context and think about what was happening when it was written.  These words are NOT a prediction about the future. It is true, the people were waiting for Jesus to return. However, this writing from Mark follows a long tradition of apocalyptic literature and it is all about providing comforting words to people as they faced their present life and present experience.  Written around 70 CE, Mark is writing to a community of people who were facing horrific situations. Christians were being dragged before local authorities, sometimes by members of their own family. War was on the horizon and, in fact, already happening as they experienced the Jewish Revolt of 66-70 CE, a war that brought the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.  For these early Christians, it felt as if the world had ended, and in some very real ways, it had ended.

You see, when people are experiencing fear and going through great pain, you’ve got to acknowledge that pain, that grief, and not bury it or cover it up by simply saying, “Don’t panic, everything will be ok.” As the people wait for Jesus to return, Mark tells them to acknowledge the pain and challenge, but trust God’s promise, stay awake, be alert and be ready for God to break in. When discussing this passage in scripture, theologian, Sarah Dylan, writes that Jesus is addressing the disciples and each one of us by saying:

Yes, there is serious pain in the world, in your community. There are wars and rumors of wars. There's strife within families, and even within the family of faith, those called to be one in Christ……So, when you see these horrible things happening, don't think it's a sign that the kingdom of God Jesus promised is late in coming or has been derailed.  We don't know the day or hour, but we know that God is faithful, and Jesus' resurrection from the dead is a sign to us as it was to Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter and our own wounded communities: Jesus is coming, and God's kingdom, inaugurated with Jesus' ministry, is being revealed and finding fulfillment.

Friends, this word from Mark’s gospel is Good News for us. Yes, there is serious pain in our world. Yet, as we again wait for the coming of the Christ child, we know something that many don't seem to realize: the person we call Lord is none other than Jesus of Nazareth, who has already come. This Jesus taught and healed, he welcomed the outcast and broke bread with anyone willing to eat with him.  It is Jesus, whose way of life and manner of death underscored what his words taught. His life and words were all about love, love for God and all others. He truly lived this every day of his life and we are also called to live it every day of our lives.  When we know Jesus, the Jesus of the gospels, we know that God is love, and love drives out all fear, whatever our present circumstances.

The writer of Mark’s gospel is not pointing us to a future apocalyptic event, but rather a very present one in which Christ’s death and resurrection change absolutely everything we know.  For once and for all, in Christ’s death and resurrection, Jesus suffers all that the world and empire and death have to throw at him…and is raised to new life and nothing will ever be the same again!  And, that includes our present lives and even our present painful situations. 

So, get ready!  Jesus is here and Jesus is coming!  Do not be afraid!  Stay awake and be alert!  God comes to us now and is still entering into our lives in ways that align with God’s coming in the vulnerability of a baby in a manger and a man dying on a cross.  God comes to us now as we embrace all those we and the world consider “other.”  God comes to us now as we collect food for the hungry. God comes to us now as we work to offer a hope and future to the guys who are living in our Parish House.  God comes to us now as we collect food and goodies for the hospital staff who are caring for Covid-19 patients. God comes to us now as Caring Committee participants check on other members of the congregation. God comes to us now as doctors and nurses lovingly care for our loved ones who are sick. God comes to us now as we walk with relatives of those who are sick or dying. God comes to us now as we see friends and relatives become healed after having this virus. God comes to us now, even as we are only able to gather online for worship. God comes to us now, as we are, in our vulnerability, in our messed-up family lives, in our deep brokenness, in the pain of this pandemic, in our imperfections, telling us we are deeply loved as we are. God is already present, but God’s reign is not yet fully here. And, this is what gives us true hope, a hope that is not just a feel good hope, but real hope, a hope that endures even the pain of life.

In the person of Jesus, God is pulling back the curtain of false hopes and the many things in which we unwisely place our trust, to reveal a very present reality, the reality of God’s commitment to enter into and redeem our lives and world just as they are.  And, this is what gives us real hope, a hope that endures and a hope that lasts, even in the depth of this pandemic. Yes, life is messy, there is much pain, and there is so much that is not right in this world.  But, newness and hope are on the way, a hope we can trust. So, as we go through Advent, stay awake, and be aware of the many ways Christ appears in the present!  God is always breaking in through time and space to be present in our lives and the lives of others. Christ is arriving now, in this present moment, meeting us in our pain just as we are, right before our very eyes. And, God breaks in bringing true hope, a hope that lasts and endures.

Today, we come to the end of the church year calendar and the end of our year-long focus on Matthew’s version of the Jesus story.  And, as we read today’s gospel passage, we get high drama, harsh judgment, words of punishment, and words of damnation in eternal fire!  So, as one who stands before you to proclaim the gospel, it is hard to read these words and then say, “The Good News of the Lord!”  That just seems to go against the grain, especially for those of us who believe so fully and completely in a gracious God of love.  It is hard to picture a gracious, loving God in this passage.  Yet, if we dig a bit deeper, I think we discover today’s gospel reading is not so much about punishment in eternal fire, and it’s not the goats or the sheep that matter in this story; it is all about how we come face to face with God every day, a very loving and gracious God!

I know most of us go to the doctor at least once a year and, when we make that yearly visit, we experience a wellness check.  This year, at my wellness check, I was told that my cholesterol and blood pressure were both too high.  So, my doctor told me what I needed to do to address the problem.  And, following his advice, I began a daily exercise plan, I watch my diet more closely, and now take some medication to help address the issues.  I say this because I believe that in today’s gospel reading, Jesus uses the language of the prophets to present a kind of wellness check for all of us, for each of us individually and for the nations as well.  Remember, just a few weeks ago, Jesus told us that the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind, and to love your neighbor as yourself.  Well, today, as Jesus is facing his death, he who is often called the great physician, presents us with a kind of wellness check.  In the story Jesus shares today, we discover the great physician, the Christ, is present in every person we meet, especially the most vulnerable. And, the great physician is really asking us and the nations to do a wellness check by looking at ourselves and asking, “How are we doing regarding what God desires from us and what Jesus has taught us?  How we are living into the greatest commandment of which he spoke?”

Now, to better understand this parable and Christ’s presence to us in everyone we meet, one theologian also suggests we consider another contemporary metaphor – the reality TV show called Undercover Boss.  I am sure many of you have seen that show in which the boss, the CEO, goes undercover to see how things are going with the workers.  Now, while this metaphor is not perfect, there are some connections we can make to the gospel message for this Christ the King Sunday.  “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.  All the nations will be gathered before him.” When he does this, he reveals that he, the Great Physician CEO, has been undercover among the people for some time, observing them at work, and it is time for the big reveal!

So, as we look at ourselves and our nation and do a wellness check, I wonder how Jesus, the Great Physician CEO, would judge his corporation right now.  And yes, I use the word corporation, a word that comes from the same Latin root as corpus meaning body, as in the body of Christ.  How is the corporation, the body, doing in this present world?  How well do we as the community of Christ understand the corporation’s vision statement?  “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God; blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”  How well do we live and function by the company’s creed?  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind… and love your neighbor as yourself.”  How clear are we about the guidelines for promotion?  “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”  Are we fulfilling the CEO’s mission?  “Go, therefore, and make disciples.”  Just maybe, we need to think about these things and do an intense wellness check on how we are doing.

And, what about the CEO’s priorities – priorities that always focus on welcoming the outsiders, the least of these, the most vulnerable among us; priorities that always, always reflect a politics of compassion and abundance?  “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” How is our wellness check going regarding these priorities?  How is our nation’s wellness check going regarding these priorities?

I must confess that for most of my life I read this parable in Matthew as a word of judgment saying, “If you blow it, you will be demoted to the realm of the goats and therefore burn in hell!”  Now, while personal responsibility and consequences are part of this passage, the real question presented to us is one that asks about the mission of Christ’s body – the corpus or body of Christ, the church, the faith community – and whether that mission is being accomplished.  How well are each of us living into that mission?  How is that wellness check going?

Again, the undercover boss metaphor is not perfect.  However, when looking at this parable, the point is that Jesus introduces something new.  Jesus’ words reflect the words of the prophets, but he adds something new by saying that when we meet the one in need, we meet divinity, we meet Christ.  When we welcome others, care for the sick, clothe and feed those in need, something more than a cup of water or a piece of bread changes hands: “As you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.” We find that when we give the cup, share the bread, and share what we have with those in need, we encounter the very presence of God in that person in need. We see God, we see the face of the risen Christ!

So, what about that wellness check?  How are we doing?  If we cannot share freely and fully or if we do not make ourselves available to do so, this indicates that our relationship with God and the world is not as healthy and whole as Jesus’ triumph on the cross makes possible.  Loving those for whom Jesus gave his life, particularly those who are undervalued and vulnerable is a primary expression of our love of God and of our experience of God’s love for us. 

As members of Christ’s body, we are called to respond to the needy, the hurting, and to welcome the stranger and the outsider, not only in the same way that Jesus did, but also as Jesus welcomes us.  When we see this present world in pain, when so many people in our very own communities are sick and suffering from this horrible virus, we are called not to focus on our presumed individual rights, but on the common good and do what is necessary for the health, care and safety of our neighbor!  We are called to wear masks!  So, just how is that wellness check going in our present culture?  And, when our present leaders do nothing but perpetually lie, promulgate conspiracy theories, seek vengeance and act cruelly, and then those lies, the vengeance and the cruelty spread like a malignant cancer, how is that wellness check going for our nation? When eight million people in our country have slipped into poverty this year, when one in five children in our country are food insecure, when thousands are dying, when millions are losing their unemployment, and millions are about to be evicted from their homes, how is that wellness check going for our nation?  Remember Jesus’ words today when he says, “Whatsoever you do to the least of these, you do it unto me.”

Friends, when we actively live God’s radical hospitality, love, and care for our neighbor and all others, we are responding to the risen Christ.  We respond to the Great Physician, the One who himself became totally vulnerable, entering the deepest need and pain of the world – even to the point of hanging on a cross, for the sake of all creation and all people.  And, guess what!  Such radical hospitality, care, and love reconstruct the social order!  When we follow the One whose glory was revealed in the cross, we are transformed and we, ourselves, live into the healing love of the Great Physician.  And, the God who became needy and vulnerable for the sake of the world uses us, to carry God’s healing, transforming love wherever we go, for the sake of a broken and hurting world.

I think I’ve shared before that during my first semester of seminary I had an introductory assignment where I openly stated that when I read the Bible my first assumption is that it will oppress me.  I’m thankful (and you probably are now too) that I’ve experienced much growth throughout the past three years and have come to reverse my expectation of scripture.  Today when I read the Bible my first assumption is that it will set me free!  I’ve come to recognize a narrative throughout scripture of God who is for people, especially those people who don’t seem like they’re winning.  I witness God who falls in love with humankind so completely that God never gives up on us, keeps choosing us, loving us, time and time again. 

Because of this change in perspective I’m particularly challenged by encountering these readings today and they are forcing me to exercise the new muscles I’ve been building at Luther Seminary.  These readings are challenging me as I find myself wrestling with contradiction today, wondering which of my assumptions of the Bible is true as I struggle to hold on to my new understanding of the narrative of a loving God.  Overwhelmingly the lesson in Matthew’s gospel today has been preached as a renewal of Christian action and participation through responsible and obligatory use of the gifts we’ve been given by God.  I’m not on board.  Amidst this wrestling I admit that I’m weary of the meritocracy that is perpetuated by capitalistic societies like the Roman Empire and the United States of America.  I’m weary of the Pharaohs that insist that we “make more bricks” in servitude to the empire.  I’m weary of theologians who preach that we double down, work harder and give more in the name of God.  At the beginning of this chapter in Matthew, Jesus says “The kindom of heaven will be like this.” and then shares this parable.  I cannot accept that the kindom of God is like a ruthless and wealthy CEO with a golden parachute who requires his employees to play his game of monopoly.  In his game he takes all of their winnings and downsizes the company so that the remaining employees are “rewarded” with more work and participation in the joy of perpetuating his game of exploitation. No.  Not God.

It’s important to recognize before I go any further that the “talent” spoken about in the gospel is not what we write about on our yearly stewardship forms about time, talent and treasure.  A “talent” was cold hard cash, actually an enormous amount of cash, you could say it was a life savings, worth more than fifteen years of wages!  The US Census bureau reports that the median household income in 2019 was around $68,000, so a modern-day talent would be over a million dollars.  Using today’s income data, the master in this story gives one slave $5 million dollars, another $2 million dollars, and another $1 million and went away… for a very long time.  Two of the slaves play the game, somehow managing to double these multiplied life savings and return $10 million dollars and $4 million dollars to the master.  I wonder how they did this?  There were no stock market investments or lottery pay-outs two thousand years ago where one had even the slim possibility of such an incredible return on investment.  I wonder, considering this astounding wealth-building, if the exploited had already become the exploiters when the master returned. 

Anyway, the third guy, I’ll call him the million dollar servant, he didn’t increase the master’s wealth.  He buried it, and gave it right back when the master returned.  When he was questioned by the master on his apparent irresponsible handling of this money he says, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed”... and the master became enraged.  “You knew, did you?!”  You knew that I was exploiting everyone I came across, you were onto my game?  Well if you knew how ruthless I am then you should have been at least wise enough to gain me some interest.  In effect, the million dollar servant was told to make more bricks, told he isn’t good enough, told he should have worked harder. Ending his fit of rage, the master orders the million dollar servant to be “thrown into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth”. 

This harsh message from Matthew is juxtaposed against Paul’s letter to Thessalonica, a capital city of a Roman province that was immersed in commercial prosperity and sure to be enmeshed in the ways of the Roman Empire.  Paul writes to a new Christian community, one that is facing opposition from both the Roman Empire and the local Jewish community. 

Paul encourages them: “Let us put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation.  For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.” 

This is the first written book of the new testament, the first words encouraging the first Christian community, and they do not instruct us to be more productive or to try harder.  They denounce a harsh and wrathful God.  They assure us of the free gift of God’s love and salvation, whether we’re awake or asleep, through Christ.  These words proclaim God’s love for these people who were not winning under the oppression of the Roman Empire and instruct them that no matter what... awake or asleep… God’s gift is theirs. 

Reconsidering today’s gospel reading as I put on the breastplate of faith and love with a helmet of hope I begin to wonder: What was the million dollar servant doing for all of those years that his time was not justified through income?  I wonder: what if we lived like salvation really is not fused with status, power and work?  What if God is not the master in this story?  What if this master is of the empire, and not of God, as he insists that the million dollar servant did not work hard enough and threatens him into collusion with his evil ways?  What if the “wicked and lazy slave” is actually the hero of the story, actually the faithful servant of God, who resists the evil ways of the empire and buries his million dollars.  What if this faithful servant of God purposefully refuses to participate in systems of power with only one winner?  What if the empire becomes enraged by his resistance, realizes he knew all along about the unjust game and decides to shut him up.  The empire decides to not only shut him up but to also make him into a lesson for all others.  What if the empire makes a big show of this lesson and marches him through the city all the way to Golgotha, where he is crucified by the empire for the threat of his disobedience with weeping and gnashing of teeth? 

What if the empire cannot silence the resistance of the million dollar servant because he is the Christ and Christ lives on within us...in you and me and all of us together?  What if we have the courage to become like this wicked and lazy slave, as we refuse to participate in the game of the empire and instead build the kindom of God?  Because in the kindom of God there’s no such thing as you’re not enough.  The kindom of God subverts the empire’s messages that you aren’t white enough, black enough, young enough, old enough, man enough, smart enough, fast enough, rich enough, legal enough… with you are enough, God’s beloved.  God calls you.  What if this lesson backfires on the empire and the people of Christ rise up, united in all of their diverse beauty, unafraid, wearing a fierce breastplate of faith and love with a helmet of hope? 

This is the message of good news I hear today.  This is the work I invite you to participate in, wherever your feet meet the ground, rise up.  The empire is disguised as a desirable partnership, a joint venture where you are promised to enter into the joy of your master.  It is a lie.  We, the people of the resurrection, the people of Christ, must resist!  We step forward from today as we cling to our breastplate of faith and love, knowing we are protected and encouraged by our helmet of hope, and we walk together toward love, mercy and justice as heirs in Christ.  Amen.

This past week has been a hard one for all of us.  Throughout the week, I have been grieving the brokenness in our world, and I continue to grieve the deep brokenness in our country, our community, and our very lives. As I grieve, I remember Dr. King’s words when he said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”  Friends, I so deeply long for God’s justice and righteousness to become a reality in this world, and I have been finding it hard to wait. Longing, working, and waiting for God’s justice for all people is becoming excruciatingly painful and I ask, “What shall we do as we wait?”

As we listen to the prophet Amos this morning, it seems he lives in a world that is broken. The people of Israel are calling out for the Day of the Lord, a day of victory for them against whatever enemies they can conjure up. However, when we look at the historical record and cultural context of that time, there was no war, no famine, no invasion, and a competent king was on the throne. Religious rituals were being carefully observed, but they were rituals without meaningful action in the world, empty rituals without changed hearts that produce justice in the world. Anyway, Amos is a prophet and, as prophets do, he sees under the surface, under the present context and current state of the world, to see the true reality. Nothing is broken in Amos’ world, and yet everything is broken!  God does NOT want the people’s empty platitudes and empty rituals.  God DOES want to see justice and righteousness lived out by the people! Amos reminds us that living out God’s restorative justice and righteousness for ALL people are essential elements of a faithful life. This is what God desires.

The people to whom Paul was writing were also waiting, waiting for Jesus’ return.  So, Paul writes words of encouragement and hope.  His mystical vision of being caught up in the clouds when Jesus comes again is NOT intended as a prophecy about factual details in some distant future; it is NOT meant to be taken literally!  It IS intended as pastoral encouragement. Paul is painting this vivid picture of the restoration of the faith community, together with Jesus, as a source of hope, so that the church can live out their faith. The point of this passage is NOT about what is coming, it IS all about how the hope of what is coming changes how we live during the waiting! Notice that today’s reading starts with the call to “hope” and ends with the call to “encourage one another.”  This is because what we hope for is supposed to change how we live now… specifically how we live in community, which is the concern of the Thessalonian church.  We can treat each other now with the love and mutual care that we know will characterize our future in Christ. This is because we have the encouragement of what Jesus has promised us, and so we don’t have to wait to start living by Kingdom rules….

That is also the basic message we receive today in our gospel reading from Matthew. In the story Jesus tells, the groom does not show up on time.  Several hours pass and many in the wedding party fall asleep.  Then, at midnight, they are awakened as someone loudly shouts out, “He’s coming.”  Well, the ten bridesmaids wake up to get moving and ready.  They trim their lamps and head out to meet the groom.  However, five of the bridesmaids have used up their oil, having none left.  And, as they attempt to borrow from the other wiser bridesmaids, their request is rejected.  They frantically begin searching for oil and miss out on the bridal procession.  Then, when they finally get to the groom’s home, they are locked out and turned away. Jesus ends this story by saying, “Keep awake!  You do not know the day nor the hour.”

The writer of Matthew’s gospel is asking this question, “What shall we do while we wait for Jesus to return?”  The early Christian community to which Matthew is writing had to constantly adjust to the reality that Jesus did not soon return as expected.  By the time Matthew wrote this gospel, the discipleship community may have been waiting over fifty years for Jesus’ return. Most of the eyewitnesses of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection were likely dead. The church was facing persecution. The Temple had been destroyed.  Where was Jesus?  This story tells the people they are to wait expectantly and, in the meantime, live faithfully, live courageously, live with hope, and stay awake and aware.  The point of this whole parable is its call to live expectantly, hopefully, and aware. 

Now, as we hear this parable, our context is very different, yet living and waiting faithfully, courageously, and hopefully is still our mission.  Our call is to stay awake and be aware of God’s presence as God comes to us. As Christians, our hope rests completely on our trust that the God who created the world continues to love this world and continues the process of creation until the project is complete.  Our hope rests in the promise that God will continue to redeem and save the world by coming into it with love and grace, in the person of Jesus Christ.

As I say this, I am very aware of the despair, chaos, and grief we have been experiencing.  We have seen natural disasters like hurricanes and wildfires, we have also seen the horrors of racism as it permeates every system and structure, we have seen heart wrenching injustice imposed on people who simply seek asylum from oppressive regimes, we continue to experience growing and immeasurable suffering from this pandemic, we are seeing callous cruelty toward neighbor and utter disregard for the common good. There are times in human history when the forces of oppression, injustice, violence, hatred, greed, and cruelty make justice, compassion and love seem so very fragile. Our present experience is such a time.  And, in the face of such horror, our hearts scream out the unanswerable questions, “Why, God, why?” and “Where is God?”  But, like those early Christians, in these chaotic times we are called to wait, to live in hope and to stay awake and aware.  You see, living in the hope that we are given in Christ does not mean we are immune to the harsh realities of history.  It does mean that we live confidently and expectantly, trusting that the Lord of history continues to break into our lives with compassion, justice, redemption and, yes, hope.  And, it means staying awake and aware so we can see how God is very present to us in each moment.

To become aware of God’s presence in our lives, we must accept what is often difficult. In fact, there are times when human culture seems to function in a mass hypnotic trance and we do not always see under the present circumstances to envision what is truly real, the reality of God’s grace and presence to us.  We human beings do not naturally see this; we must be taught how to see.  And, this happens as we live together in Christian community, as we participate in the work of the faith community by seeking justice and peace for all people, as we courageously gather even though that gathering is online, as we weekly receive God’s living Word, and as we are fed by the very life of God.  As we wait, even in times of chaos, heartache and pain, these are the things that enable us to stay awake and aware as God is always present to us and as God’s kingdom is always coming, breaking into history and breaking into our lives. 

The good news in the midst of all of life’s challenges and our present pain is this:  the bridegroom will come, the bridegroom is always coming, and the love of God will continue to appear in our lives in surprising and unexpected ways!  You see, Jesus Christ comes when Christian people live in hope and never give up.  Jesus Christ comes when faithful disciples express love and compassion and work for justice, even in the face of violence and fear. Jesus Christ comes when we see God’s presence in people who are different from us, in ALL OTHERS, when we see ALL others as people created in God’s image who are dearly beloved children of God.  Jesus Christ comes when those who suffer know they are ultimately safe in God’s love. Jesus Christ comes, and the kingdom breaks into earth and into our lives when faithful people live in hope, not fear, and give themselves to the work of God’s kingdom and God’s reign. 

So, keep your lamps trimmed and burning!  Wait with hope and stay awake!  The bridegroom is on the way and, in fact, is already among us.