Second Sunday after the Epiphany

John 2:1-11

We’re in the season of Epiphany when we celebrate the many ways that Jesus, his teaching and his living, are light to the world.  We’ve left our Advent lanterns on the altar to remind us that the light of God shows us the way in our journey through life.  People who knew Jesus in the first century believed that God’s light was clearly visible in him, and they told stories about how and why they came to believe he was The Way – creating a new community of people who lived under God’s rule in spite of also living under Roman Empire.

Today’s story comes from the Gospel of John.  John’s gospel was the last one written of the four which are in our scriptures.  That gave him the advantage of perspective over time.  It meant that the meaning of Jesus has been considered by many different groups of his followers by the time John wrote about it.  It also removes him somewhat from the immediacy of Jesus’ life.  Our life stories improve over time, and John’s Jesus stories were refined to make his point about Jesus’ importance.  John’s gospel is organized around fewer, longer stories from Jesus’ life, each one being a “sign” that Jesus is the Messiah, the founder of God’s new reign among the people.  The story of the wedding at Cana is the first “sign.”  Its purpose is to show that Jesus was able to work miracles because he had great power given by God. 

John wants us to believe in the power of Jesus, so he shows him doing powerful things.  He turns water into wine – a skill many people have longed for over the centuries.  In many stories John shows that Jesus has authority and power over the natural world, able to heal, cast out demons and manipulate reality (water into wine) because he wants people to know that Jesus has more power and authority than the Empire.  The Empire is in charge of people’s external world, but behind the scenes, Jesus and God are really in charge. John is writing in a time before much scientific discovery when people thought most of what happened in the natural world happened at the whims of the gods.  When we hear miracle stories, we are scientifically skeptical in ways they were not.   These stories aren’t about HOW Jesus was able to do these things.  They were about his power to change life.

So we need to hear these stories mystically, not scientifically.  How can we identify with the power Jesus wields in this story?   How does “real life” Jesus give us hope as we read this particular story about his life?

This Jesus lives in relationship.  He’s gone to the multi-day wedding celebration of a friend.  He brought his friends – his new disciples – with him.  His family is there.  He gets irritated with his mother for asking him to fix the wine problem, and for assuming he’ll do it, even when he said he would not.  And then he does.  This feels like real family.  How much do we love all our relatives, and how irritating can they be at times?  Remember that John’s audience was people who followed Jesus in the first century who formed family groups.  They ate together, talked about life together, looked out for each other.  They took turns bringing the wine for dinner.  This story reminds us that there’s strength in community.  Jesus connected people and he still connects people today.  We gather because we share a commitment to his teaching and his way of living.  There’s power in the people together.

This Jesus knew how to have a good time.  He came to the party.  He made great wine to keep the party going.  This story probably isn’t about drinking gallons of wine, but it is about finding joy in being together.  It’s about celebrating milestones – weddings, births, new houses, finding lost coins and lost sons.  Jesus people in the first century lived hard lives, but that didn’t keep them from having a good time together.  Jesus is in favor of joy, wherever you can find it.  Just being together is a good place to find joy.

This Jesus worked with what he had.  There wasn’t wine, but there were six big jars standing empty.  He told the people standing around to fill them up.  That was a big job, drawing that much water from the village well.  It took time and they had to work together.  When they were done with all that work, whatever was in those jars, water or wine, would have tasted cool and cold and sweet.  A friend of mine in Seattle used to say whenever we had coffee, “Toothpicks and water is a feast among friends.”  You take what you’ve got and you enjoy it.  These days we’re inclined to think any new idea needs to become a program, find grant funding, meet goals and objectives.  I like it when Jesus’ people just do things with what they’ve got because something needs to be done.  Family of God is good at that.  It’s one of my favorite things about us.

This Jesus believed that God was at the heart of everything good that was happening.  If friends gathered for a wedding, God was with them.  If they found more wine, God helped them.  If someone needed healing or feeding or loving, God was in that healing and feeding and loving.  The people who followed Jesus also believed that God was in the thick of whatever they were able to do for one another.  That’s a good way to see the world.  Yes, there’s much that’s broken, but God is stirring the pot to bring healing through the community.  When we care for each other, God is in the caring.  When we help strangers, God is in the helping.  When we extend welcome or encouragement or compassion, God is in that.

John wants us to know that Jesus matters as much, even more, than Empire. People experienced the difference Jesus made by coming together in community and caring for each other in the way he showed them to care. It changed their lives and it changed their world. It still is. We are the Family of God and Jesus is in the heart of our life together. With him, we are bringing the love of God to heal the world.

Baptism of our Lord

Luke 3:7-17, 21-22

In every moment in time there are people who are satisfied with the way the world is working and those who aren’t.  That’s true in our time.  It was true in our parents’ and grandparents’ time.  It was true in the first century when John was preaching at the Jordan, outside of Jerusalem. Today’s Bible story is about what some people did to express their longing for a better way for the world to work.

John was a preacher.  In the day before streaming services and social media, preachers were good entertainment.  When I worked for the Presbyterians, I’d hear stories about Harvey Ambrose, their pastor in the 1920’s, who was a member of the Klan and preached controversial sermons.  Folks from all the churches in town would go to his Sunday evening services to hear what he was up to.  He was entertainment.  John also preached controversial sermons, although not in alignment with the Klan.  He was preaching in opposition to Roman occupiers and those who were getting rich from supporting the occupation.  The Empire made life difficult for the peasants who did the work that made others wealthy.  Some people wanted to stage a revolution and get rid of Rome.  John advocated a different kind of revolution – one of kindness and watching out for each other, which made life better in spite of occupation.

John stood in contrast to the religious leaders of the day, who advocated going along to get along.  He called out people who used position or power to make their own lives easier at the expense of others.  He asked people to change.  Share your extra cloak, feed those without enough food, don’t use your work to extort bribes from people who can’t afford to pay.  John was preaching about a religious movement that manifested in social behavior – taking care of one another in community and living by the values religion once stood for: compassion, honesty, peace.  He drew crowds not just because he was interesting to see and hear but because his message gave people hope that life could be better.

John used a common custom of the day as an initiation rite into his new way of living.  Baptism/washing.  The Jewish people had many religious rites which involved washing – washing hands, washing your whole body, washing to convert to Judaism.  The society also had many customs that revolved around washing – public baths, bathing together to celebrate new beginnings (a new business, a new child).  Their land was dry and dusty and people walked everywhere they went.  Hospitality involved washing guests’ feet to welcome them.  The Westar Institute scholars have suggested that John’s baptism in the Jordan River was a direct affront to the beautiful Roman baths of the cities.  In this slow, dirty river, people claimed their heritage (it was their river) and spurned what the Empire had built.  They came out from Jerusalem, a seat of power, to meet John in the countryside and sign on to his peasants’ movement, rejecting the power and violence of Empire and pledging to live in a new way that lifted up those Rome was pushing down. 

People wanted to know if John was the Messiah, the One God would send to overthrow Rome.  No, he said, that’s not me.  It will take someone greater than I am to accomplish that.  Then the story tells us that Jesus came to be baptized.  He was coming because he was drawn to John’s preaching and his emerging movement.  He shared John’s vision for a better way for people to live.  He too believed that God was doing something quite different than the empty rituals and power grabs of the religious leaders.  He’s baptized as a sign that he’s turning his life over to this new way of being.  He’s signing on to what John is doing, and not long after, John is arrested and Jesus becomes the leader of the movement.  He becomes the preacher everyone comes to see.

Our heritage is in this baptism John started in the first century and also in millions of baptisms performed by the church in two millennia since.  We come to this story in both ways.  This story falls every year on the first Sunday after Epiphany, which puts it at the beginning of a new year.  New Year’s is our time for resolutions, for evaluating what’s worked in the past and what hasn’t, and setting intentions for new directions.  It helps us resonate with the folks drawn to John because they wanted a better way to live.   We’re reminded that baptism represents a turning point, a commitment to new directions.  It focuses our attention on values we receive from God, that can be put into practice in our daily living.  With those who came to the Jordan, we commit ourselves to being the community of God’s people and living in a way that lifts up those the world pushes down.  Thinking in terms of the Epiphany theme of light, we become the light of God in the world and commit to shining that light so that those who need it most can see it.

The second strand of this story highlights God’s word to Jesus as he comes up out of the water.  He receives the Spirit of God and is told, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”  He not only accepts a new way of living from his own initiative, he’s empowered by God to live out that new life.  He gets energy and inspiration and help to put this new life into practice.  All that begins with being loved.

Over the years baptism became the sign of God’s love and the initiation into God’s community, the Church. The theology of centuries shifted it from being a commitment to live in a new way to being forgiven and accepted by God.  Sometimes that shift looks like forgiveness no matter what you do which guarantees a heavenly future.  Most of us come from traditions that baptize infants, so we have no memory of baptism and we certainly didn’t choose it as a sign of how we would live.  It’s far removed from what John and his followers were up to; and it’s not.  Here is the connection:  God says, “You are my beloved.”  Those are words not just spoken by a Hollywood voice to Jesus, but to each and everyone.  You are God’s beloved!

The Presbyterian baptismal service in its current rendition includes these words near the end:  See what love God has for us that we should be called children of God, for that is who we are!  That is the reality I want every one of you to hear and remember.  You are the beloved child of God.  God is pouring love into you and all over you and over everything you do.  The true challenge to the power of Empire is the power of love – and that love-power is God.  You are forgiven, not because you are baptized, but because you are loved.  You are connected to God, not because you get everything in life right, but because God is love.  This world can change, not because of revolution, but because at its very core it is made of love, God love. 

Love is the essence of life.  Love is who we are.  Because there are a lot of things that happen that aren’t loving, it can be hard to remember this core truth.  Anger and frustration and politics and fires and lots of distractions make it hard, but it is always possible to love.  You are able to love this world and its people because at your very core lives a God who is love.  This story, and the stories of our own baptisms, invite us to claim that reality of our being – love. 

And then it connects us in community, gives us the teachings of Jesus, which we’re going to read every week.  Gives us the love and forgiveness we extend to each other.  Gives us God-power and God-hope when it’s hard.  Each day is a new beginning in which we can commit to doing the most loving things we can.  To sharing what we can.  To standing beside each other in support of God’s values and God’s way of living.  To bringing the reign of God into reality in our moment.  You are invited to be the light and the love of God in this time and this place.  Let’s do it, let’s be it, together.

Epiphany

Matthew 2:1-12

Today we celebrate Epiphany with the beloved story of the sages who travel from the east to find a newborn king.  They are astrologers and the stars told them of the royal birth.  Of course they went to Jerusalem first because you find a king in the capital. But the folks there were unaware and didn’t welcome the news.  Herod clearly wasn’t as tuned in to the prophecy about God planning regime change as others, like Mary was in last week’s scripture.  He had to ask where this birth might have taken place.  Even as he sends the visitors on to Bethlehem, he’s plotting to eliminate his competition.

This is a great story!  We add it to the long list of great stories of the Bible with questionable historical accuracy.  But accuracy isn’t the point of this story.  It’s put into Matthew’s Gospel near the end of the first century, written to Jewish people after Jerusalem had been restored.  So the proper question about this story isn’t, “Did it really happen?” but “Why is Matthew telling us this?” Matthew is using this story to make important points about Jesus.  What are they?

The answer to that question leads us to the Epiphany themes.  These are themes of light and global significance. 

Jesus is light.  A bright star shines at his birth, big enough to be seen across the world.  We use the metaphor of light to talk about insight and truth, enlightenment and transformation.  The people who followed Jesus literally “saw the light.”  We’ve talked often about how the first century was a dark time for those who lived it.  Jesus brought light to that darkness.

The light is for the whole world.  These scholars traveled over many months to search for something special that the starts foretold.  They came to Judea, but this birth wasn’t meant for just the people of Israel.  Matthew wants us to know that Jesus impacted the whole world.  By the time he wrote his gospel, Jews were living in every corner of the Empire, some by choice and some because they had been sent into exile by violence or sold as slaves.  When he writes to the Jewish people about the birth of the Messiah, he’s writing to people who live every known place.  He’s telling them that God is doing something earth-changing in all places, not just in the homeland.  This birth is for everyone.

The new king has been born and his rule is established.  Herod tries to end this challenge by ending the child’s life, but he’s thwarted – by the scholars who don’t give him the information he wants, by Mary and Joseph who hide the child in Egypt and then in Nazareth, by people who refuse to cooperate with the schemes of the powerful.  Jesus lives! He grows up to become a great rabbi/prophet and to teach the people about God in new and amazing ways.

We are going to celebrate Epiphany for the next 2 months, and we’ll be talking a lot about these themes.  About light and globalization.  The teachings of Jesus challenge the powerful and scatter the darkness of Empire.  They are for the world.  Many countries have Christians aligned with national parties that focus on patriotism for a single nation.  Epiphany reminds us that Jesus is for the world, crossing boundaries, reaching everyone.

I was thinking about this story this Advent when Diana Butler Bass posted a new song on her website about this story.  It expanded the way I thought about these scholars and I wanted to share it with you.  So Chris is going to sing it for us.  (For those reading this sermon, here are the words…)

Chorus:  Spirit take us home, take us home by another way,
Take us long way ‘round the tyrants and their schemes.
Give us strength to walk, show us dreams of a better day,
And we’ll pave the way with justice going home by another way.

The mountains and the hills laid low, the rough places made plain,
The tyrants thrown down from their thrones ‘til only love remains.  (Chorus)
No offerings for billionaires to make them richer still
Bring all your frankincense and myrrh that the hungry may be filled.  (Chorus)

So when the Proud Boys and the Klan ask where the Christ child lies
Just tell ‘em that you’ll let them know next time you’re passing by (Chorus)

So, when things get tough and feet are tired we’ll know it’ll be okay
‘cause we’ll pave the way with justice going home by another way.

Until I heard this song, I never thought of the sages being part of a resistance movement.  They declined to fill Herod in on the child, finding another way home.  And perhaps that saved his life, giving him a chance to grow up, giving us a chance to know about his teaching.  Theirs was a silent resistance that protected the light of the world.

We’ve learned much about the first century Jesus followers recently.  They lived under a cruel Empire with no open resistance possible.  But they formed communities that followed Jesus’ teachings about love and caring for one another.  In the face of Empire, they chose to live another way.  It was their resistance.  It became a hidden kingdom, hiding in plain sight, saying “no” to the evil of their day.  

Folks in our time are wondering about rulers and power in many countries, including ours.  We wonder what’s next for us.  There are rumors that immigrants and human rights and income equality may not be as important as we would like them to be.  We don’t know.  It strikes me that we may have opportunity to follow the lead of these scholars who simply took a different route home.  They weren’t confrontational; they just didn’t play by the rules of the powerful.  They found a different way.

This week we have been confronted as a church by some of the harsh realities of our time as we were asked to help one of “our” social workers help a young man without documentation.  She’s helping him file an asylum claim.  He can’t work legally.  He was assaulted at the mission and is afraid to stay in an open shelter.  He can’t sleep outside.  She found him a coat.  We bought him a phone so he can be in contact with helpers.  Homeless Helpers paid for a hotel room, and then we’ve paid for more nights.  The truth is, there’s no good solution.  We can’t support him for months until he can work.  If he’s deported, he’ll die.  If he doesn’t have shelter here, he’ll die.  He’s just one of many who need more help than we can give or our city can give.  So we just keep at it a day at a time.  We don’t know what resisting quietly in place means for us tomorrow.

But the resistance isn’t the whole story.  The story of Epiphany is of light.  The scholars came to see the infant Jesus.  The stars prompted them to find something new that was happening.  Like so many who met this one, their lives were changed.  They went home not just by a different route, but as new people.  When we come face-to-face with Jesus through his story and through his community, we too become new people.

Some friends of mine who live in Florida sent me a Christmas card that came this week.  They summed up what I was feeling better than I can, so I share their words with you…

This is the season we celebrate Glad Tidings as Jesus came with the good news that God loves you and there is nothing you can do about it!  Jesus had Good News that God cares about the marginalized who were oppressed by religious folks who called them unclean, for those oppressed by the landlord/serf economy, and the oppression of the imperial politics of his time.  Jesus started a good news movement for the transformation of God’s people to become the Beautiful Incarnational Community.  As we begin a new year, let us have courage to be instruments of God’s peace when violence hovers, and to show grace and love to those marginalized, excluded, and endangered.

Let us have the courage to find a different way.

First Sunday after Christmas

Luke 1:45-55

This sermon starts with bits of information, I think of them as strands that we’ll weave together before we’re done, like making macrame from individual strings. 

The first is prophecy.  Nell and Neil have been helping us remember important prophets for Israel during Advent.  Today’s scripture reminds us that Mary, mother of Jesus, knew those prophecies.  They weren’t just nice words that warmed the Christmas season for her.  They were the serious promise that although her world was broken in devastating ways, God still had plans for good for God’s people.  She knew those prophecies deep in her heart and she believed they predicted a time when God was going to remake her reality and lift up those who were struggling.  They shaped who she was and how she thought about life.

The second strand is the Virgin Birth part of the story.  That part isn’t about biology, it’s about politics.  First century folk believed in multiple gods who controlled all the aspects of daily life.  In addition to ruling earth from heaven, these gods often took human form and interacted with people.  Some of those interactions resulted in divine-human offspring, who had superpowers.  When a new Roman emperor was chosen, soon after a story would circulate about how he was the son of a human mother and a god who gave him the right to rule the empire.  The story of Jesus’ birth isn’t told in the earliest gospels.  It appears in Matthew and Luke which were written after Rome conquered Jerusalem.  At that moment there was no hope of Israel throwing off Roman rule and establishing a kingdom, but those who believed in Jesus’ way say his kingdom as a way of living in opposition to Rome from within the empire.  Their communities were resistance movements that weren’t military but were still committed to a better way of life for everyone – the fulfillment of the prophecy in a hidden kingdom Jesus ruled.  So, Jesus also has a story of virginal birth, equating him in importance and power with the emperor.  He too had a divine mandate to rule.

The third strand picks up the biology of that story.  Mary bearing God’s child is a sweet story that folks repeat especially at Christmas.  For some the biology of it is offputting.  Jesus can’t be a baby boy without an X and a Y chromosome and the only way we know to have both is physical, not spiritual.  In the first century everyone who had a virgin birth story also had a human father.  People didn’t understand the science and the stories were about importance, not about physical methodology.  For emperors, both their human and divine fathers were true.  Those who told these stories didn’t see them as contradictory and they didn’t have the either/or choice we have today – believe it or not choice.  Scholars who understand the importance of the story of Jesus being divine also help us understand the reality of Mary’s life.  She is a young girl in Nazareth, a city 4 miles from the new Roman town of Sephoris where hundreds of Roman soldiers are garrisoned on a mission to control the villages of Gallilee.  Given the status of women in that time, it’s quite possible that Mary is pregnant and unmarried because of rape, by a soldier or a villager.  What’s unusual about the story isn’t that Mary is pregnant and in danger because she’s not married.  That would have been common.  What’s unusual is that both Mary and Joseph see the hand of God bringing a positive outcome of this terrible circumstance. 

So let’s bring these three strands together…Mary, in a desperate situation yet with Joseph sticking with her rather than abandoning her to poverty and embarrassment; prophecy promising a better life for those oppressed; a common belief that God was intimately involved in the lives of all people…This amazing young woman claims that her child, conceived under difficult circumstances no matter what part of the story you choose, is going to be the fulfillment of the prophecy and bring hope to her world.  She’s quite clear that this infant will bring down the powerful and lift up those who live in poverty and despair.  She takes what is a hopeless, life-threatening situation and claims for the child a life-giving future which becomes the hope of all people.  Every mother holds wonderful dreams for an unborn child, but this story claims cosmic significance for this mother and this child.

And then here’s the best part…not that Jesus is crowned like the emperor, claiming that power his mother sees for him, but he’s born.  A baby.  Powerless.  And like all babies, miraculous.  Then he’s raised by a mother who tells him about the prophecy, who tells him that despite the danger of his conception he’s been blessed with the power of God to do great things.  I think we can’t begin to know how much her vision and her hope shaped the man he became and the work that he accomplished.  And the starting point for him was his birth, a moment he shared with his mother that changed them both.  Someone I read this Advent pointed out that birth is the way we all begin and that it’s a traumatic experience, involving a significant amount of pain and stretching and loss of control that leads to a wonderful new beginning.  When God chooses to be part of this world, God chooses birth, becoming human, entering the very beginning of life, with us from the very start. 

At Christmas we celebrate that Jesus is born, knowing that the rest of the story tells us that this birth made a big difference in the world.  We celebrate Christmas at the time of year when in our hemisphere the earth and the year are turning toward something new – the birth of whatever comes next.  I think it gives us a chance to reflect on birth in our own lives.  Birth so often comes from something hard – Mary claiming the goodness of her child in horrible circumstances, delivering him in a stable, bringing him into a world that would eventually murder him, and yet believing that his life would matter, that it would change everything.

I invite you to consider with me those moments of birth in your own lives.  Maybe physical birth, but more those moments when you encountered something difficult and stretched and made it through to life in some new way.  I remember a time after the flood of 1997 when I was pastoring a church without a building and not really a plan.  The synod decided that the best thing for me would be to learn about a new movement in the church.  That involved going to a workshop in Los Angeles, where I had never been.  They had no money to help, but they thought I should go so we found a way.  There I learned about what was then called the church transformation movement, growing church out of the people’s experience of the holy rather than the history of the institution.  I hated it.  It was a stretch toward something I couldn’t imagine, and it was life changing.  Or I remember the day they started the IV that would allow chemicals to kill my bone marrow and make space for new stem cells.  It was a point of no return, and it led to life.

What are the birth moments you mark in your life?  They might be medical -a heart attack, a stroke, cancer – disasters clearing the way for a new way of being alive.  They might be mental – depression, addiction, some dark time that brings you to light in a different way.  Birth moments can involve family – an addition or subtraction, an unexpected birth or death, a coming out that shifts the way we understand one another and calls us to stretch our love wider.  Sometimes birth involves a new job or losing a job or training for a new job.  It can involve moving across the country or around the world.  It can be learning something new that shifts our understanding of how life works and community functions.

Birth moments are hard and sometimes it takes a while for them to get to the joyful part.  The message of Christmas is that God is in the birthing of life, no matter when it happens.  Mary’s message to us is that even the most difficult circumstances are filled with the presence of God and that hope is possible.  We just hold on long enough to see what can grow from a new beginning.

So as we come to the end of 2024 and the beginning of a new year, I invite you to watch for what is being born in you, what is being born among us.  Watch for signs of God’s presence, a light in the darkness, a hope in the brokenness.  What comes next may not be easy, but we don’t do it alone.  We have each other.  We have the strong presence of God.  We have the promise that there is always light.  In whatever struggle lies before us, whatever challenges we face, there is also hope and joy.  Something new is born through us and God is bringing life through it all.

Love- The Fourth Sunday in Advent

Today is the Fourth Sunday of Advent.  The last Sunday of Advent.  Christmas is coming in just a few days.  For some people these days of Advent, days of December, days of preparation for Christmas, have gone by very fast.  For some, they may have seemed to really drag, really take a long time.  We have become a people that is very impatient.  We want things to happen quickly.  We complain if our computers or televisions take too long to come on, or change programs, or do anything.  We usually want fast foods, not slow cooked ones.  I have a sweatshirt that Nell gave me years ago that says “Instant gratification takes too long.”  We don’t want to wait.

If we are left to ourselves, we seem to try to turn God into an object, something we can deal with, something we can use to our benefit whether that thing is a feeling or an idea or an image.  Prophets scorn all that stuff.  They train us to respond to God’s presence and voice.  The prophets, in general, have a message of keeping people alive to God and alert to listing to the voice of God. 

Prophets use words to make changes in the world.  They deal with realities like love and compassion, justice and faithfulness, sin and evil, and mostly God.  All these are things that are difficult to define, other than by describing them.  Think about that.  Try to define love without giving an example or a description.  Much of the world’s action takes place within realities that we can only describe, but are unable to explain with a concrete definition.

Here we are, on December 22, the 4th Sunday of Advent, the last Sunday of Advent.  This is one of those waits where even if it seems too long, we just have to wait it out.  During this Advent Season we have had several scripture lessons that were Old Testament prophets predicting and pointing to the birth of the Messiah, the one we call Jesus.

Today we heard from the prophet Micah.  The book of Micah is relatively short.  It is just 7 chapters long.  Micah was from the south of Judah.  He wrote sometime between 750 and 686 BC.  He has a deep sensitivity to the social ills of his day.  The beginning of the book is mainly oracles of doom, and the end of the book is mainly oracles of hope.  Micah sees that the Kingdom of David may look to end, but it will reach even greater heights though the coming Messianic deliverer.

In our lesson today, Micah begins by pointing to Bethlehem Ephrathah.  We have heard of the town of Bethlehem.  Ephrathah is an older name, a former name of the town of Bethlehem.  The town is about 6 miles southeast of Jerusalem in what, at that time, was a rich agricultural area.  The name Ephrathah means “Fruitful”.  In the Old Testament this is known as a Canaanite settlement that was there before the Jews settled in the land.  It is mentioned in Genesis 35:19 as the burial site of Rachel, Jacob’s favorite wife. 

The town became known as Bethlehem, which means “House of Bread”.  Bread was one of the staple foods of the people.  Much wheat and other grains were grown to supply the flour for that bread.  A place that was fruitful and a place known as a house of bread are both referring to an abundance of the staples of life.  Eventually Bethlehem was known as the hometown of King David.  Apparently, the designation in our text of Bethlehem Ephrathah, with both the old and new names of the town, is simply to distinguish it from some other town called Bethlehem, somewhere in Israel.

We know of the town of Bethlehem as the birthplace of Jesus.  In the Christmas story we hear that Caesar Agustus decreed that a census should take place.  Simply a counting of the people so that he could collect as much tax from as many people as possible.  Joseph was from the family of David, and so was to go to Bethlehem, the city of David, to register and pay his taxes.  And Mary goes with him.  And the town and the inns are full of people, because of the census.

So, we have the hope from Micah.  “You Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are the least significant of Judah’s forces.”  The people of Micah’s day, just like us, tend to expect important people to come from some important place, not from an insignificant area.  Here, coming from Bethlehem, which had little to nothing important happen there from the time of David’s birth in Bethlehem, until the birth of Jesus.  Not an important place, but still to be the place of the birth of the coming Messiah, one who is to be ruler of Israel.

Then Micah gives an example, one that we immediately read as pointing to Mary, “when she who is in labor gives birth.”  It is difficult to think of a baby, and especially of an infant yet to come, difficult to think of them as coming on behalf of God.  Even so, that is what Micah tells will be the case of this baby that is coming.  I have met people who firmly believe that they were called by God from birth, or even before.  Such is the case of this baby that is coming.  This is a sign of hope, and a call to get ready. 

We need to get ready.  If you know you are getting guests, you may have all sorts of things that you feel you need to do to get ready.  You may be waiting impatiently for them to show up.  We do that when we are expecting a birth.  When will it happen?  When my oldest daughter, Maren, was born, I wasn’t ready.  I had picked up a used crib to use.  The crib came to me in pieces and with no instructions on how to put it together and with me having never seen it when it was together.  Maren was born 6 weeks early.  I came home from the hospital the day she was born, took all the pieces of the crib and spread them out on the living room floor, because that was the biggest open space, and worked on it and finally  got it put together.  Then I took it to the room that was to be the nursery.  It was too wide to get through the door!  I had to take it apart to get it through the door, and then put it together again!  A hope of a birth and a call to get ready.

Micah goes on to tell us of the strength and power and majesty of this one to come.  Such strength and power and majesty that can hardly happen, unless there is help from above.  And in this case, as Micah says, it will all be in the name of God.

The power and strength of this one to come will not be like the power that we see in current political leaders, here or anywhere else in the world.  It is different because this one to come is not gaining strength and power from war and not gaining majesty and glory for themselves from that strength and power.  This one to come gains power and strength and glory because “He will become one of peace.”  That would truly change, or at least should change, our world.  He will become one of peace. 

As Advent comes to a close and Christmas draws near, let us draw our hope from this one who came in peace.  Let us use that peace to be a light to all in our world who need that light and that peace.  Amen.

Joy - The Third Sunday in Advent

Those of you who were present in worship the first Sunday of advent may be a bit nervous today. It was hope Sunday and I began with a description of life behind bars in the federal prison in Angola and it was a bit of a downer. You may fear what I may do to joy, our theme for today.

But how could I dare to mess up joy! I mean joy is the goal of Christmas lights and sleigh bells in the snow. Joy is sharing and remembering. It is warm socks by the fire and hot chocolate with candy cane sticks.

Joy is connection and renewal, forgiveness and forgetting why forgiveness is needed.

Joy is recovery, of health, body and soul.

Joy is giggles and the sticky faces of children. And God bless us everyone!

Joy is snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes.

It can start at our toes and leap to our hearts and it shouts from the rooftops. Singing Joy to the world. All the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me.

Joy is quiet and still and deep and begs only to be whispered.

Joy makes it all worthwhile.

Joy to the world, the lord has come.

Make your own list. Sing your own song.

Hear the words of Isaiah. Read.

I should tell you some about Isaiah. There are at least four different writers in the name of the prophet Isaiah and the books covers a long time in the history of the people of Israel. And at this time, when one of the lsaiahs is writing, things are looking a little rocky. The leader, King A, has to make a decision about which horse he will back, rather said, which army he will instruct his army fight with, this one or that one and frankly everyone is tired of fighting and joy can only be measured in thimbles.

Puts me in mind of where Syria might be today, with the future unknown, except no one believes all the fighting is over, for real. The joy of finding those who were held prisoners, is fast dampened by the grief of finding who is not there. Who is missing. Those who didn't make it to the end.

But this particular Isaiah, puts joy back on the table as a possibility. He says, God knows what you are going through.

God offers you comfort and joy. Water when you are thirsty.

Help.

And Isaiah says, God will save you, so you have nothing to fear. And then there are the three important words, at that time.

At that time, you will celebrate the greatness of God. So, this we understand.

At that time, when the day comes, in that day.

Pick a translation, but it all means the same: not now.

That picture of connection with God is for some time, but not now.

We are possibility people.

We live with the mess and search for evidence of God's work at hand. And we seek the joy we have been promised.

We believe the promise, but we ask for help today. And tomorrow. And in the new year.

The baby was born in a stable, died on a cross, ascended into heaven, and we pray each Sunday for the kingdom of God to come on earth, and at that time, we will shout aloud and sing for joy because of God's wonderful deeds.

Possibility people are faithful people.

We know we are not alone.

We are part of the possibility community that stretches around the globe. We don't have to make God's possibility a reality in isolation.

God is our help.

Possibility people practice faithfulness in the not yet time. We search for justice, we long for peace, we live in hope.

And we follow in the footsteps of millions of people over the centuries who have done the same.

In that day.

I don't want to mess up joy.

It is the fuel for our spirits that makes living in the not yet time liveable.

So, I invite you to make your own list of what gives you joy and find your own song and lift your own voices.

Benediction means the good word and so I give you the good word. Joy to the world. Joy to you and me. Amen.

Peace - the Second Sunday in Advent

As we continue our journey through Advent and towards Christmas, we have a scripture lesson this morning from the book of Baruch.  Most of us know very little about the book of Baruch.  I have never preached from it before.  Baruch is a short book, only 5 chapters long, in what we refer to as to Apocrypha.  The Apocrypha is a group of books that are placed between Old Testament times and New Testament times.  The Roman Catholic Church has recognized these books as scripture, and therefore they are included in some Bibles.  Protestant churches have acknowledged that these books are of historical value, and do contain valuable messages, but have not elevated them to the level of scripture.

Baruch is given credit for the authorship of the book.  He is a companion of the prophet Jeremiah, and often serves as the recorder or secretary or personal assistant to Jeremiah. The first part of the book is pretty much historical narrative of the time during which Israel was in exile in Babylon and contains a confession of sins.  The second part, which contains our text, is composed of two long poems dealing with comfort and restoration.

Picture the scene to which Baruch writes.  You have been living in Israel, a country that you view as being a chosen land given to you as a chosen people, given to you by God.  You imagine that it is implied that therefore God will protect you from whatever evil surrounds you.  You picture that there are no threats to you from the nations around you.  Why? Because God, who chose you and gave you this land, will protect you.

Then the Babylonians conquer your land and take you into exile.  Essentially you become refugees living in a foreign land; not knowing if or when you will be able to return home.  And you begin to question your faith.  How did the Babylonians conquer you? Why didn’t God protect you from the Babylonians? Does that mean that God forgot about you?  Or was there some great sin and the fall of your country, and your exile are punishments from God?  God was with you in Israel.  Is God even here in this foreign land of Babylon?

Some of your people, including you yourself, have been carried off into exile in Babylon.  That was a typical method of operation for the Babylonians.  When they conquered another country, they would take into exile the leaders, both religious and political, the wealthy, the business people, and anyone thought to have some form of power.  They would leave the country devastated by war and without any leadership.  

Yet, some of your people are still in Israel, not carried off into exile.  Some are not refugees.  But all those with wealth or power or education or authority were now in exile.  You are promised that you will be able to return.  But it is taking so long.  We hear refugee stories today of the pain of refugees being separated from part of their families for a few years.  Here the Jewish people were in exile for 70 years.  It is taking so long to be able to go back home that they wonder if it will ever happen.  Even if you are now in safety and have food and clothing and shelter, it still is so incredibly depressing that you are not home.  You are still a refugee in a strange land.

In the midst of that depression, Baruch gives a message of hope.  A lot of times when people are depressed, they look like it, dress like it, act like it.  Baruch tells the people to take off the stuff that keeps them held down in their despair. And instead, dress in the dignity of God’s glory forever.  Dressing in dignity, showing dignity, is virtually impossible when acting like one is downtrodden.  It is not always possible to lift ourselves out of oppression as Baruch puts things.  But he does give us some wonderful images.

I remember, as a small child, at my Grandma and Grandpa Justesen’s.  On a cold and snowy day, we would go out and play in the snow.  While we were out playing in the snow, Grandma would bake.  When we got too cold and/or too wet we would come into the house.  Grandma would have us sit right by the oven, which was hot from whatever cake or cookies she had made while we were outside.  She would wrap each of us up in a quilt (we each got our own quilt because she figured my sister and I would fight over the quilt if we shared the same one) and give us each a mug of steaming hot chocolate, and some of what she had just baked.  Wrapped in a quilt, the warmth felt wonderful.  It was amazing.  Baruch wants us to wrap the justice of God around us like a robe.  Imagine that.  A warmth, a comfort, a security, wrapped up in the justice of God.  Not just a justice that just touches you, but one that wraps around you and you can hold tight to yourself.

Grandma made a quilt for me when I went to college.  All the pieces were denim or corduroy or wool.  They were pieces from work shirts and pants of Grandpa’s.  The quilt weighed a ton, but sure was warm.  She embroidered my name on it, at the top, right in the middle.  It was one of a kind.  And my name was there for all to see, for all to see that it was mine.  It seems like everyone who came into our dorm room would ask about the quilt and the name embroidered on it.  And I would tell them about the special quilt, the one with my name on it.

Do you like your name?  Some people do.  Some people don’t.  Some people so dislike their name that they change it or refuse to use it.  Some people have excellent reasons not to want to use their given name, like memories that are tied to the name. Or family connections with the name, connections that may be better forgotten.

In some traditions a name is given to a person after a life-changing experience.  It may be a name given to someone at their baptism.  It may be a name given after a vision quest of a native American tradition.  It may be like a Roman Catholic tradition of giving a name to a woman when she takes vows as a nun.  Here we have Baruch telling us that God will name us with a name by which we will be called forever.   How special, how wonderful, that the creator of the universe took the time to give you, each of you, your own special name.

Baruch talks about a name that brings peace.  A name that makes you and those around you feel peaceful and comfortable.  And Baruch claims that such a peace only comes from the justice of God.  And the gathering of those followers of God, rejoicing that God has remembered them.

We can buy into that idea, a justice from God that wraps us in the peace of God.  Sounds wonderful.  Many of the things that we do as a congregation and as individuals, are done to show God’s justice and peace to those in need in our community. 

It would be nice if there were a couple magic words for us to say and that then, automatically we would see and live in that justice of God.  It would be nice to just have God wave that divine hand of God and have justice and peace fill our world, fill our land, fill our very hearts.

But, unfortunately, it never seems to work that way.  It seems that peace is something that we need to work for.  It seems that justice is something that we need to work for.  It can be hard work.

If you and I are not getting along, no matter what the cause, or no matter whose fault it is, to work for a peaceful solution and some justice and peace for each other is ideal, and difficult to achieve.  When someone angers us, it is pretty easy to first think of how to retaliate, how to get revenge.  Yet, when we react like that, we usually end up with revenge for our revenge and the cycle continues.  We see that so often in world politics and wars.  With Baruch, with Jesus, we are told and shown that the proper response to anyone, in any situation, is a response showing the love, the peace, the justice of God.

It is not always easy to do.  People have been trying and failing at that for all of history.  If we fail at it today, we just try again.  Someday it will help.  Someday, the hope and peace and justice that Baruch talks about will be ours.  Maybe only for a short time.  So, we keep trying live our lives showing that peace and justice, just maybe we will see it more and more often.  We draw hope from that justice, from that peace.  Amen.

Hope - the First Sunday in Advent

It is a fearful place. No one wants to go there. No one wants to be there.

Angola prison in west Feliciana parish, Louisiana is a fearful place.

It has been called the bloodiest prison in the federal prison system in this count ry.

Think about the bars, the razor wire fences, the heat and humidity of South Louisiana.

If you can, imagine all that could happen to earn that distinction, the bloodiest prison in the country, then you understand it is a fearful place.

And yet.

I could have chosen any number of examples of fearful places, desolate places, God forsaken places. Just watch the news. Listen for the cries of people in war zones, or places where the weather itself has turned on the people withdroughts, floods, mudslides. Places where how you worship makes you someone's enemy, the color of your skin, whoyou love, separates you from the blessed majority.

But there is something about a prison. The loss of freedom. The shame of being there. The isolation from what you knew before. The danger of being in a place where you can't get away from others who would rather be somewhere else.

It is not where we want to be or where we want anyone we love or care about to be. But I'd like to introduce you to the Warden at Angola. His name is Kaine.

And he is a Christian of the southern Baptist persuasion and he takes his job very seriously. His truth, born out of his faith, is that the job of everyone at Angola prison is to keep hope alive. As days grow into years, as people live and die locked away, the most important job he has is to keep hope real and present in the daily living of men who have a good reason to think hope is for dopes and people on the outside. But not us.

Through his efforts and those who followed him as warden, things have gotten better at Angola.

It is also called the plantation prison, because the farm land around the prison has always been cultivated to provide foodfor the prison and work for the prisoners.

It is also known for its rodeos, which provide, again income for the prison and excitement and purpose for the prisoners.

It also believes in returning its prisoners to society with skills and education in a great number of careers; religious programs you can participate in; and this past week on Thursday and Friday the prison was closed so that everyone could practice gratitude. Sounds like hope lives in Angola.

Jeremiah would agree with Warden.

A prophet called by God, Jeremiah's time was before the fall of Jerusalem and Judea. He looked around and saw what was happening and warned the people that things were going to get a lot worse. He said there will be cities filled with the bodies of dead men, and there will be no animals, no crops in the fields, no nothing, because by the sword, famine, and plague you will be handed over to Babylon by my hand, God says, through the prophet Jeremiah. I am angry with you. God says. Chapter after chapter Jeremiah works to impress upon the people ofJerusalem and Judea that God has had it with them.

And you know why?

Because they had forgotten how to be righteous. How to be in good relationship with God, with each other, with creation. They had dismissed the call to be just in their dealings with people. They had neglected to give God credit for what God had given to them.

Before you decide Jeremiah was coming down too hard of the chosen people of God, that it sounds like bringing this up makes the Jewish people look bad, tell me if you can't hear Jeremiah' s words in our world today. Tell me we haven't fallen into the independent self-righteousness of our time. Tell me you didn't squirm just a bit when I suggested being unrighteous can tick off God. Righteous is a slang word nowadays. It is okay to be a righteous dude, but how many times in a month, a year, do you identify righteous as a compliment about another. Or a goal foryourself?

I don't. I don't recall telling others they are righteous.

I can say God is righteous, but I don't really think about naming others.

Makes we wonder, should we be checking our horizons for the armies of Babylon coming, with God's blessings, for us?

That's about as southern Baptist a sermon as you are likely to hear in these pews.

Rather you will hear, I work for justice. I can say that is important to me. We give, we feed, we welcome, we are doing ok. God must be pleased.

But you know, if I were a prophet of God, if I got picked for that part, I think what would distress me the most is the culture of fear that separates us from each other, from creation, and from God. Listen and hear who we should weafraid of, what should strike fear in our won hearts. It’s everywhere. That what we need is for all the others in our world to be kept away from us, because they are going to hurt us. Every other in the world needs a trip to Angola. Or someplace where they can't get to us, because for sure what they intend is to take what is ours, hurt what we love,forget who we are, fill our streets with the bodies of dead men.

Fear is the destroyer of hope. I hope that we will be okay, but I fear we may not.

And fear is epidemic now. Vaccines, the department of education, Mexico, Canada, Russia, depression, recession,job loss, Muslims, transgender children, not enough, not enough, not enough. And the result is that hope is on the chopping block.

And to all this, Jeremiah says, after 30 chapters of telling people, showing people, how angry God is with them, Jeremiah says, but God has made a promise.

A gracious promise.

In those days, I will make a righteous branch sprout from David's line. He will do what is just and right in the land.

In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety.

This is the name by which it will be called: the Lord our Righteousness. Through him we live in righteousness.

And that Lord our righteousness says to his disciples,

Things are going to get bad, but when it seems like the heavens and the earth are about to end as we know them, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near. Be careful that your hearts not be weighed down with anxieties of life. That fear not win.

People of faith have said for centuries, the battle is between good and evil.

And good has already won, because Jesus walked out of the tomb and invited us to come along.

But in our time, the fight is between fear and hope. And advent wants to shout hope will be victorious because before there was tomb, God made a promise, I will send you David's heir, to show you how to be righteous, how to liveconnected to me, to each other, to creation.

Jesus came for hope.

HE said 120 times in the gospels, do not be afraid. Jesus knew hope and fear cancel out each other and the struggle within us is ongoing. But hear the call of Jesus when he says.

Stand up. Lift up your heads. Be careful with your heart. Be not afraid.

At least not all the time. Let us carry hope for each other and fortheother. Be not afraid.

Last Sunday after Pentecost

James 5:13-20

We have come to the end of our walk through the book of James, and this Sunday we've come to the end of the church year. Next Sunday begins Advent, a time for looking ahead and thinking about what we're hoping for, what will be new.

Today, we focus on James tying up loose ends. First, he suggests that people should pray- if they are suffering, if they are sick, if they've done something wrong and it's making them sick. The whole community should pray for each other. He suggests that they pray like Elijah who could make it rain or not by praying. This is a clear sign that James is a first century man and not a twenty-first century man. Today we can explain what causes it to rain or not scientifically, and while there are lots of farmers and fire-fighters who frequently pray for rain, there aren't many who think prayer is the cause of the weather- or of illness or of war or of many other conditions we deal with in life.

We know a lot about science these days and we can explain a lot of things. When someone is ill, we have many more tools at our disposal to help them get well. We're grateful for the advances that have made our lives longer and easier for everyone. We don't know much about prayer, because prayer doesn't work by any scientific method. There have been studies that show that prayer has a positive impact on healing. There have been studies that show that meditation can lower crime rates in big cities. We each have stories about when good things happen that we attribute to prayer. But we don't know much about how it works or why.

I'm going to suggest that we don't need to know. Not knowing how a TV works doesn't keep me from turning one on and watching shows. Not knowing how plants grow doesn't keep me from planting a garden. Not knowing how prayer works doesn't keep us from praying and getting good benefit from our prayers.

Let's put a pin in that for a minute and look at the second thing James tells us in closing- keep each other in the truth. I suspect that James would label “truth" those things he's told people in his letter. Truth is the way James understands what God is up to in the world and how people participate in this God-work. I hear that as "stick with the community" and hang in there together. Don't make trouble for each other.

These two bits of advice here at the end of the letter, say to me, "Take care of one another." Build up the community for the benefit of everyone. That’s pretty good advice. How do we put it into practice in our time? How did people put it into practice in James' time?

First, they gathered. They came together. We gather on Sunday (and welcome people who listen in online) because it helps to be connected to each other. If you have to stay home and listen to church on the radio, it's good that's an option, but it's better to be together. To see friends. To wave or shake hands and talk with one another.

When they gathered, they ate. They feasted in fact. Today we are going to feast. If you're listening online and live nearby, come on over after worship. There’s plenty for everyone. Their feasts too k time. They told stories about their week. They told jokes and laughed. They lived in hard times, but that didn't keep them from enjoying life together. We live in what may become hard times. We need to help each other keep our sense of humor and hope, and we do that by being together.

They prayed for each other. We pray every Sunday in gratitude for things that are going well and for help for people and situations that are in trouble. Is prayer magic? Does God intervene in the world in unpredictable ways? I don't think so. But I do believe that all of life is interconnected and that the positive energy we create as we pray is effective in bringing good. I also believe that when we pray for someone or something, we're more likely to do helpful things to make a difference. Prayer opens us up to finding ways to change the world. Prayer reminds us that a friend needs a phone call or a hotdish. Prayer connects us to each other in important ways.

James' friends were followers of Jesus and so are we. What does that mean? I think it means we try to see the world like Jesus saw it. Jesus had a God-sized vision of the world where everyone was loved, and everyone loved folks back. We see the world through a love that values each person and wants the best for everyone. We talked about making a commitment to one another that we would approach this time with the eyes of love, and that's an important way we follow Jesus.

With that vision, Jesus taught people to take care of each other. For him, that meant sharing clothing, shelter and food. It meant accepting those the village cast aside. It meant welcoming the stranger. In my mind, Jesus asked us to form strong, loving communities to take care of one another. We can do that when it's easy, and over the ages folks have done that when it's hard. No matter what, we're in this life together and we can cheer each other on.

At our Justice conversation this week we read an article about Bernice Johnson Reagon, a founder of the singing group Sweet Honey in the Rock. She spoke of how Gospel songs like "We Shall Overcome" started out as "I Shall Overcome." Over time they became collective, not individual, because when you're working for justice and peace, a Jesus-shaped vision, you can't do it alone. A movement has to be "we" because sometimes " I" need a break. Everybody needs to take a rest and pass the work to someone else for a while. But the movement continues, and we move forward together.

Living in community is hard. There are always moments of irritation or disagreement or wrestling over the best menu. But Jesus taught us that it's essential. Faith isn't about me getting saved, it's about us creating the reign of God right here, right now, so everyone can see it. It's a group effort. Everyone is essential and we can all take care of each other.

So, in the days ahead, speak up about what you need. Tell us when you are sad or angry. Tell us what you're worried about, who you're worried about. Don't be shy when you have a good idea. We're creating the presence of God in this time and place, and God is going to add a whole lot of energy and power and hope to that process. To quote a friend,

"We're in this together."

Twenty-Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

James 5:1-12

We are just one week away from the last sermon (for a while) on the letter labeled James.  Today we have a laundry-list of four topics James want to remind us about.  Let’s take them in order.

First James berates the rich.  They have so many possessions they can’t even take care of them all while thousands of people face despair and starvation.  Jesus did the same, often chastising those with means who took advantage of the poor.

We just had an election where grocery prices were a big issue.  It’s expensive to eat.  But most farmers aren’t getting rich.  In 2022 the USDA tells us farmers/growers received 14.9 cents of every dollar spent on food (and spend 7.9 cents on their own costs, which includes the wages of farm workers).  Processors, wholesalers, retailers, all take a chunk.  Food service gets the biggest bite – which means more food dollars go to eating out than to grocery stores in our country, an amount that would include food prepared at universities and in hospitals and nursing homes.  I looked this up because I thought it would tell us someone was getting rich from our need to eat, but it just told me that food is very complicated.  It doesn’t take Robert F. Kennedy Jr to tell us that lots of folks aren’t eating very well for all the money we spend.  Or we could point out that for all the funds put into rent, there’s a lot of folks unhoused.  For all the funds going to health care, there are too many going without.  We can believe in the benefits of a capitalistic system without signing on to the belief that rich folks should have unlimited ability to get richer.  Jesus, the prophets before him, James and the first century church all preached that people deserved to be fed, clothed, housed, and made well.  Everyone does better when everyone does better.  When Jesus said, “The poor you have with you always, he wasn’t endorsing poverty.  He was citing reality.  Then he fed people and taught his followers how to form communities where no one was left out.  Now that Elon Musk is in charge of the world, I’m pretty sure Jesus has some suggestions for how he spends his time and wealth.  I’m not thinking Elon is interested.  But we sure are.  We have our work cut out for us standing up for those who don’t have the power to stand up for themselves, and inviting them to join us.

Second, James encourages us to be patient.  He connects patience and endurance in the face of hardship.  We don’t have to go looking for hardship these days; there’s about to be plenty to go around.  Enough that we don’t need to make up extra by worrying about what hasn’t happened yet.  But like our ancestors, we need to be watchful.  We need to be ready when our neighbors are about to be harmed.  The ACLU is making plans.  The teachers’ unions and labor unions are making plans.  We can watch for what part of protecting the vulnerable comes to us, and then we can make plans.  Or we can support those who are in position to have the best effect.  Marsha from the Connections group said that in the week after the election, she added $5 to several of her monthly gifts to people who are watching out for others.  Not a bad plan.  James would approve.

James would also approve of our commitment to love which we made 2 weeks ago.  It’s still in effect.  There are lots of reasons to be angry and divisive, but we’re going to act with love.  Tough love.  Tomorrow I’m going to begin calling Senators’ offices to remind them how smart they are about what makes cabinet officers qualified.  We’ll have lots of reminding to do in the next weeks because we deserve qualified public servants, not folks looking for wealth and retribution.  We can do it with love, and the expectation that we’ll be heard. 

Finally, James tells us not to swear.  I have just spent the weekend with half of my grandchildren, one of whom is getting frequent flyer miles on words his grandmother has never once spoken and hopes to never speak.  That’s not the kind of swearing James is talking about.  James is talking about promises you make and don’t intend to keep.  Campaign promises, perhaps.  Empty promises, for sure.  This isn’t a time for promises without substance.  This is a time when we need to keep faith with one another.  We need to be able to trust each other.  When we say we’re paying attention to what’s happening, we need to really be paying attention.  When we say we’ll contribute, we need to do it.  When we say we’ll show up and stand up for one another, we need to follow through.  Those are promises we can make and keep if we help each other do it.  No one can do it all.  Everyone needs a break from time to time.  This is a tag team project and we all need to be on the team.

James doesn’t say, “remember to laugh,” but I’m saying it.  Remember to take a break.  Rachel Maddow says, “Close the refrigerator and hydrate.”  Mr. Rogers says, “Look for the helpers.”  We need to do all of those good things to keep ourselves strong.

Two thousand years ago the followers of Jesus faced hard times.  They stuck together and they made it through.  So far, our times don’t come close to the hardships they faced.  If we stick together, we will more than make it through.  We aren’t doing this just to be self-righteous or to look like the good guys.  We’re doing it to show what God’s way of life looks like when we live with love and joy.  Which means, God is in the thick of it and we aren’t alone.  We can do it and we will.  Together!

Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

James 4:13-17

 All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well…for there is a force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go.          

-Julian of Norwich

 Last week we were wondering what this week would bring. We committed to one another that no matter what, we would love people and support each other.  Then this week happened and here we are.  I’m reminding you that we are facing current events with love.

I’m hearing from lots of people this week.  A few are exuberant.  Most are feeling depressed or angry or anxious or uncertain.  Whatever part of those words fit you today, welcome.  Here we are.

People I know are asking each other how they feel and what they are going to do next.  I’m feeling a little pressure to say something wise and helpful.  So far I’ve discovered two things that aren’t helpful:  eating lots of ice cream and playing games on my phone in the middle of the night.  Neither made me feel better.  Truth is, I have no idea what comes next.  One author I read, Ann Lamott, I think, suggests that “I don’t know” is the best answer of all.  When life makes big shifts, we truly don’t know how we’ll react or what we should do.  For at least a little while, it’s a good idea to do nothing.  Go for a walk.  Drink lots of water.  Wait for clarity.  Life is going to go on whether we have answers or not, whether we understand what’s happening or not.

James comes through for us in that vein today:  You do not even know what tomorrow will bring.  So, he suggests, don’t get caught up in grandiose plans.  Just say, “God willing.”  Maybe we’ll get a big new job and move across the country.  God willing.  Maybe we won’t.  God willing.  I don’t think James is telling us that we need to wait for God to micromanage our lives, but rather that we don’t have to know what the future will bring to be alright.  Who said, “The only thing certain is death and taxes?”  Right now, taxes are pretty much up in the air.   And it’s clear that at least for now death isn’t on our agenda.  So that leaves this moment, and we can manage this moment.

Someone else I read suggested that middle class white folk should just get over all this election anxiety.  Black folk, indigenous folk, immigrants, poor folk have all been waking up every morning in a country that wasn’t very much on their side, and they’ve made it through.  They’ve even managed to live good lives and be happy.  Chances are we will too.  At least today and probably tomorrow, God willing.

Sometime in the early morning Wednesday someone posted on Facebook the quote from Julian of Norwich that we read today.  Julian was an anchoress in the church of St. Julian in Norwich, England, which was a major city in the 14th century.  As an anchoress she lived in a single room attached to the outer wall of the church.  Once she entered the room, she never left it until her death, although people could bring her food and clothing as needed and come to ask her to pray for them.  She had a window which looked at the altar at the front of the church so that she could see and hear daily mass and participate in the prayers.  Julian is known for a vision she had in 1373 of the crucifixion of Jesus which convinced her of his overwhelming love.  She wrote about that in a book, which is earliest known writing by a woman in English.  Her vision convinced her that God’s love was the strongest reality of our lives, and we can count on it without reservation.

We’ve read a lot about how hard life was in the first century, yet Jesus’ followers lived in communities of joy, caring for and supporting each other.  Julian lived through plague and wars and the hardships of life in the 14th century, but she writes of the great joy of God’s love.  People have gone through hard times in the history of our country, but they have lived with joy and taken care of each other.   All this week as I’ve talked with people who are worried about the future and who will suffer from new government policies, I’ve also been reminded that the love of God is strong for each an every one.  God isn’t going to fix our country or our politics or convert a lot of people to our way of thinking.  But not one thing can happen in the days ahead to take God’s love away from us. 

What does it mean for God to love us in this moment?  Some folks want us to think that God shows love by answering prayers and helping us get our way.  Maybe by winning an election.  Maybe by getting rich off new tax cuts or deportation programs.  That God sits somewhere called heaven and decides who gets good things and who doesn’t, who is happy and who isn’t.  That’s not what I mean by God’s love.  More and more I’m convinced that God is Life and God IS Love.  God is the life energy that’s in our veins and in the universe.  God moves through all that we are – our breath, our thoughts, our actions, our relationships.  God connects us with everything that is.  God moves in our living by drawing out love as we go through each day.  God isn’t going to intervene on anyone’s side to heal our country, but God is going to be mightily present wherever people are coming together and caring for one another.  We may feel a little bit abandoned right now, but God is just as present as ever and the power of love is as strong as ever we need it to be.

So what do we do next?

• We wait for clarity.  I don’t know what will be helpful or important.  But time will tell and we will see it.

• We watch for God-shaped opportunities to do good and show love.  We will see them.  Eight years ago when I was in Mayo Clinic for bone marrow transplant (with Pat’s good help and care), we kept a gratitude journal.  Every night before bed we wrote down all the good things that had happened that day.  I think those were hard days, but I don’t remember any of the hardship, I only remember the gratitude.  I suggest that you try it – keep a journal of every kindness you see in the days ahead.

• We stand ready to protect those we can protect from harm.  I don’t know what that will mean.  Maybe calling our representatives to protest harmful laws, or calling attention to bad policy or going with people to court.

• We believe in the power of God which is the power of love.

As Julian reminds us across the centuries:

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well…for there is a force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go.

All Saints Day

James 4:1-12

This is the last sermon before a very important election.  I must admit that it’s intimidating me, trying to find something helpful to say about this moment in time.  Every day I’m hearing the same messages over and over about how this is a pivotal moment in our nation’s history.  If we don’t get this one right, we might not get another chance.  The future of the world depends on us.  It feels really heavy.  All the commentators are talking about being unable to sleep at night.  I’m buying in to their anxiety and investing lots of energy into hoping millions of people see it my way.

Sometimes I listen to folks on the radio echoing all my fears about what comes next.  If we don’t win, we’re doomed.  The other guys will destroy life as we know it.  Then I realize that the person being interviewed thinks I’m “the other guy.”  They are just as afraid of me as I am of them.  Chances are that when they vote, they’re going to cancel me out.  Maybe we’re both right – we’re doomed either way.  Or maybe we’re not.

James doesn’t have any election advice for us today because James couldn’t in his wildest imagination envision a world where people get to vote about their government or any policies.  The amount of influence we have over our daily lives would never have seemed possible to people in the first century.  But when we read today’s passage, we see folks with the same kinds of fears we have.  They were having just as much trouble getting along as we are. 

James says part of it is because they each want what the other guy has.  I suspect that most of the people James was talking to were significantly poorer than we are.  Many of them would have wondered about having enough to eat or wear.  Some would have had enough, and maybe some to spare.  James implies that none of them should worry, but just ask for what’s needed.  Is that a suggestion that we’ll get anything we pray for if we do it right?  I think not.  I think it’s about trusting the community of God’s people to take care of one another.  Rather than competing for what each one can get, they can work together.  I hear lots of news about how people should vote on Tuesday for the candidates that are going to give them the most – the best handouts, the strongest economy, the biggest tax cuts.  The question is “what’s in it for me?”  I don’t hear many people asking “what’s best for us?”  James, I think, would want us to ask how we can be sure everyone has enough – safe housing, food to eat, a chance at a good education and meaningful work What’s better for everyone, not just my bank account?

Then James tells us that not being envious is a way of being humble.  Clean hands and pure hearts are more important.  “Humble yourselves before God and God will lift you up.”  There’s an old song about that running through my mind as I think about this verse.  I remember singing it in worship and being glad that God was going to lift us up.  How very American of us to focus on what we’re going to get as a reward for humility.  I suspect James would tell us humility is a reward in itself.Humility lets us listen to each other and hear the dreams behind the words.  Humility lets someone tell us what they think without formulating what’s wrong with their ideas.  Humility lets us feel the pain in our neighbors that precedes their politics.  Humility gives us the courage to talk back with respect, to share what’s important to us and why. Humility invites conversation.

James tells us that when we start out humble, we don’t find a need to judge our neighbor.  Instead we live by the law and leave judging to law.  James would have been referring to God’s law, which was explained in his time by many regulations about how to live together.  Jesus was asked once to summarize that law and he said this:  Love God; love your neighbor as yourself.  That’s it.  God is love and if you want to align your life with God, you love:  yourself, your neighbor, God, everything that is. 

Life gives us lots of choices about right and wrong, do this or that, but Jesus tells us we can make all those choices on one basis:  love.  What is the most loving thing to do?  Elections give us lots of choices.  Which policies will build us up?  Which ones won’t?  Which ones will help us love and respect our neighbor, give everyone dignity, encourage community?  Marianne Williamson often rus for President on the platform of love.  We need to treat everyone with love.  I think she’d be a terrible president, but she’s right about love. 

So are we to let everyone do whatever they want because we’re supposed to love them? That’s no way to run a community or a country.  But we can stop people from doing harm and still love them.  We can disagree with people’s politics and still love them.  We can make choices and judgments about policy without rejecting people who disagree with us.

I don’t know what’s going to happen this week.  I do know that the Christian response to whatever lies ahead is love.  Not sappy, like everybody love.  This love is going to be hard.  There are going to be winners and losers.  There are going to folks acting up and acting out.  It’s going to be hard to tell what’s true and what’s not.  It’s going to take a lot of working together to get through whatever lies ahead.

One of the most important commitments we can make to each other is to hold ourselves accountable for acting with love.  Speak words with love.  Respect all people with love.  Stand up for what’s right with love.  Vote with love.  Walk into the future with love. 

No gloating.  No despair.  We are in this together and the world needs us to love it and all our neighbors no matter what.

Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost

I was fascinated by what I was seeing. 

A video had been sent to us showing a psychic healer performing surgery on people, using just her hands, pulling suspect parts from the bodies of the sick who had come to her for healing.   I was the associate minister of a large culturally diverse congregation in downtown Oakland, CA, and our building was being used by members of a orean congregation to host this healer from the Philippines.  I was intrigued.  How does she do it?  I looked hard at the video and determined I would be present on the night of the healing to see how she did it.

It was a packed house.  I sat with friends in the radio booth above the sanctuary floor, where we could see it all. But I was disappointed to learn that because CA has rules about who can perform surgery, there would be no healing requiring surgery, psychic or otherwise, that night.  Instead, the procedure that followed for all kinds of ailments, was for the person who wished a healing to turn their backs to the congregation and drop their drawers.  Then you could hear a loud clap as the psychic healer would smack their exposed buttocks, followed by shouts of hallelujah!   For hours, the flow of people from the pews to the chancel never stopped.  I came away from this experience knowing two things:  I didn’t need to see another bare bum for awhile and no one was healed that night in our church building.

Healing is one of those bugaboos in ministry that many of us struggle with. There are people who use scripture to soften the consequences of illness or injury.  That is good, but you have to be careful which scriptures you rely on:  the bible says, I am healed by his stripes, I remember one patient proclaiming just hours before he died. The bible says so.  Or another popular one from today’s text:  your faith has made you well….quantifying and qualifying what is a gift from God and not your own creation.

Or the fatalist who believes the illness is God’s will.  Its all a part of the plan. 

Or the many folks who declare their condition is simply my cross to bear, everyone has a cross to bear.

Or others claim their diagnosis is a test of their faith.

I’ve been to Fatima in Portugal.  I’ve seen the faithful and felt the hope they carry with them.  I would never challenge the strength people in need of healing find in scriptures.  Maybe that is why healing stories are hard for me.  troublesome

So, I am thankful to Mark for helping us with this subject.

To remind you of what you already know:  Mark is short, he is in a hurry, he wrote in the first century, and his audience was Jews living in that time.  He wanted them to know that even if Jesus had not ousted the Romans and put Israel back in the hands of the chosen ones, he was still the Christ, the messiah, the savior they had been waiting for.  From the first chapter of Mark, when he quotes Isaiah about the man we call John the Baptist, then to the calming of the storm, and the feeding of the four thousand, and Jesus’ question to Peter, who do you say that I am? Mark is all about Jesus’ identity.  Healing people just stacks the evidence in Jesus’ favor, this is the one.  So we conclude the healings continued Mark’s mission and are signs that point to who Jesus truly is. 

The one the prophets had told was coming.  That’s it.Mark says healings happen to the glory of God and to validate what Mark believed, that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God, the One whose coming was foretold by the prophets. That helps a bit.  With the healing stories.  Understanding their purpose

So what do we say? The healing stories of the Bible are arrows that point to Jesus as the Christ. If we try to extract a roadmap to healing from these stories, we are concentrating on the arrow and not the one it points to.

The story you know of the lepers who were healed. They who had been cast out of community, family, denied the opportunity to work, to worship, were healed and their lives restored.  That says what about Jesus?  In the least it says Jesus is the one who recognizes our need for others and makes that possible.  Knows that healing can make it possible for one to go home.     The healing of the paraplegic man.  He was lowered through the roof and Jesus said, your sins are forgiven. What does that say about Jesus?  I have the authority to forgive sins, the great high priest.        

 And this story. 

 So what can we learn about the one identified as the Christ one from this story? What does it tell us about Jesus? Jesus hears the man calling to him and stops and asks him what do you want? Over the din of the streets and the crowd telling the blind man to be quiet, Jesus hears the one in need of healing.

So do we say, in all the noise of life, Jesus hears our pleas and has mercy. And who doesn’t need to be heard?  When we are hurting, doesn’t it mean something to us to know however simple our words, however broken our spirit, however painful our nights, to be able to speak and to be heard? 

Listening is healing.  You may not have a miraculous and the lame walk story, but I am willing to bet you have a healing because I was heard story.   I hope you do. At Lakeshore Avenue Baptist Church, a long time ago, I’ve come to think I was wrong.  Some healing did happen.  After the noise and commotion of all that theater in the church, people gathered in small groups outside on the lawn and talked quietly with each other.  The kids jumped on the steps, and the people who had come in wheelchairs, returned to their wheelchairs, and the shouts of hallelujah drifted away into the night.  And they were like neighbors, friends talking together, supporting each other, exchanging phone numbers, offering rides.  Laughing.  Listening.  What do you want?  Hearing the calls have mercy.   And responding with mercy.         

And as Jesus healed, so may we live in his likeness. Amen.

- Nell Lindorff

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost

James 3:13-18

Since the Renaissance, we’ve been exalting the individual and not the community.  That, coupled with modern social mobility, has only entrenched that emphasis.  Therefore, in modern times, we are all in a diaspora and all exiles in our own land.  Therefore, the need for community and the re-learning of the skills to build community around the world is essential.

 – Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi

It was my idea to preach my way through James this fall, but I’m beginning to regret that decision.  It’s not that I disagree with what James says, but when I read the scripture and sit down to write, I think, “Well, that’s the truth.  What else can I say?”  James is writing to groups of people who have heard about Jesus’ teachings and want to put them to practice in their lives.  Why do they want to do that?  Because they see other people doing it and those folks’ lives are better for it.  These people are choosing to follow Jesus because it’s the best way to live.  If we’re going to be Jesus-followers in our own time, then we need to pay attention to how to live this way.

There are vast differences between the first/second century and the twenty-first century. Early Jesus followers lived in the Roman Empire.  Some of that was good – safe roads, relatively stable government, most people worked, nice public baths to enjoy, great shows in the colosseums for entertainment.  Some of living under Empire was hard – most people were slaves or peasants living at a subsistence level, there were no rights for most folks, there was no getting ahead, violence was everywhere, death and disease were rampant.  Compared to the first century, we live in paradise.  We are solid middle-class citizens with health care and pensions, education for ourselves and our children, even better roads, modern conveniences.  We have it pretty good. 

Some parts of life are the same in every century.

There’s a divide between rich and poor.  In our lifetime that’s become more extreme in our country.  We think no one’s hungry, but that’s not true.  There are folks in our neighborhoods going without meals.  When I listened to the church’s phone messages this week there were six calls from people facing eviction and wondering if we could help.

Those in charge want to pit us against each other.  This election season there’s talk of immigrants destroying our cities and taking our jobs.  We know immigrants; that’s not true.  There’s talk of folks who practice other religions being a threat – Moslem, Jew, Christian Nationalist, atheists …Some extremists in any movement can be dangerous, but we know folks who claim these beliefs; some of them are our family. 

Most of us have been taught that our country is the best in the world.  Patriotism is a good thing, but as we travel and learn more about the world, we realize that there are good things in many places.  We can be proud of who we are without having to destroy others or fear others.

In just over two weeks we’re going to finish an election.  It looks closea.  Each side thinks it’s essential to win because the “others” will destroy our country.  Somebody is going to lose.  Then what?  How are we going to be a community on the other side of this great divide?

James tells us that we’re going to get along with everyone by treating everyone with dignity and honor.  Just because we’re told those of different viewpoints (or genders, or colors, or languages, or…) are dangerous, doesn't mean we have to believe it.  Believe the best of all our neighbors.

Rabbi Schacheter-Shalomi suggests we learn the skills of community.

• Listen to one another.

• Understand where each one is coming from.

• Pay attention to what people fear and what they hope for.

• Value what people offer to the group, particularly those who come at things differently from us.

• Trust that we can find common ground.

• Don’t give up on possibilities.

We’re told that American individualism is a barrier to community building.  But in the same years that we were claiming to be self-made and self-sufficient, we were also looking out for each other.  We were threshing grain together.  We were taking soup to sick neighbors.  We were buying stuff we didn’t really like or need from kids’ fundraisers. We know how to do this.  We have built community before and we can do it again.

Some things Family of God does through groups: Connections, Justice Conversation, Valley Senior Living

Some things we do out there where we each live: Connecting with neighbors, supporting lots of difference causes we believe in, speaking up for truth or kindness at work or card club

As a group or on our own, we’re still in this together.  We are becoming a community of people who follow Jesus’ teachings because they show us a better way to live.  They help us create a better world, take care of one another, stand up for those who can’t protect themselves.   

It’s a big job, this world-changing.  It happens one word or one kindness at a time.  To be like Jesus isn’t to set ourselves above everyone else and claim great wisdom, it’s to do the best we can to be a good neighbor to our real life neighbor in this moment, one day at a time.  We do it because Jesus asked us to.  He asked us to do it because it’s the best way to live.

Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost

James 3:1-12

Today James is warning us not to be eager to take a leadership role in the community. Leaders, he suggests, are held to higher standards of truth and accuracy and those standards are hard to meet. Then he goes on to remind us how important truthful speech and kind speech are for everyone. I suspect that like me you heard this advice as a child, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” Sometimes nice isn’t honest. Then “Silence is golden.”

I suspect every one of us can remember words we wish we hadn’t spoken, and words spoken to us that hurt like a whip. James is realistic about how often that happens, yet still insistent that we need to be careful what we say and how we say it. We might add, why we say it as well. Those who follow Jesus use words to encourage people, to strengthen our connections and community, and to support those marginalized by power. We care careful about how we phrase our opinions so as to show respect to others, even those we think are quite wrong about stuff. Words matter.

This passage is a good reminder to us to be careful in our own lives. We can refrain from gossip and call out those who want to engage us in hearing untruths about others. We can, in this new time, think twice before we share information on social media, being sure our sources are reliable and we aren’t amplifying false rumors. When we need to confront a wrong or injustice in our family, an organization we belong to, or in government, we can do so kindly. Some actions or policies demand a strong reaction, but kindness is stronger than belittling or cruelty.

A lot has been written and spoken about the way we talk to and about each other in our country right now. We aren’t living up to Jesus’ standards much of the time. We aren’t working to find ways to communicate lovingly across differences, or to reach compromises, or to be truthful. It’s easy to point fingers at “others” who get this wrong, and important to make sure we’re doing our best to engage in careful and thoughtful speech ourselves.

This week the ELCA Council of Bishops confronted the need for honesty in political and other national speech. What they wrote aligns with what James is asking of us and I want to share it with you.

In a perfect garden, created by God for the sake of humanity, evil entered in the form of deception and lies. Christians refer to this story, found in the biblical book of Genesis, as the fall of humanity. This foray into human sin began when Adam and Eve, the first humans created in the image of God, were deceived. Humans have contended with the powers of deception ever since.

Yet we are a people who know and proclaim the power of God at work in the world. We proclaim the power of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, the one who said, “I am the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6). We know that the power of truth is greater than the power of deceit.

We, the members of the Conference of Bishops of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, speak with one voice to condemn the hateful, deceptive, violent speech that has too readily

found a place in our national discourse. We lament the ways this language has led to hate- fueled action.

We refuse to accept the ongoing normalization of lies and deceit.

We recommit ourselves to speaking the truth and pointing to the one who is truth. We find courage in our collegiality and implore the members of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, as well as our partners and friends, to join us as we:

1. Pledge to be vigilant guardians of truth, refusing to perpetuate lies or half-truths that further corrode the fabric of our society.

2. Commit to rigorous fact-checking, honoring God’s command to “test everything; hold fast to what is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:21).

3. Reject the use of humor that normalizes falsehood, remembering that our speech should “always be gracious” (Colossians 4:6).

4. Boldly advocate for the marginalized and oppressed, emulating Christ’s love for the least among us.

5. Courageously interrupt hate speech, standing firm in the knowledge that all are created in God’s image.

6. Lean in with curiosity, engage with those who think differently and “put the best construction on our neighbor’s action” (Luther’s explanation of the Eighth Commandment).

7. Amplify voices of truth.

Emboldened by the Holy Spirit, may we resist deception and lift up the truth that all members of humanity are created in the image of God.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with us all as we respond to the Spirit’s invitation into this intentional commitment against deception and for truth.

In Christ,
The Conference of Bishops of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

The bishops have outlined several ways in which we can be careful about our speech. We can be careful to speak the best about everyone, even when we are criticizing policies or actions which are hurtful to others. We can condemn a behavior without condemning a person. We can hold politicians and those who advocate for particular candidates to accuracy as they campaign. We can speak truth when someone shares information we know to be false or misleading. We can stand up for immigrants, people of color, those who experience poverty, those who are ill, those who are incarcerated or anyone who can be marginalized by refusing to accept or repeat stereotypes which dehumanize anyone. We can be honest AND kind.

Sometimes the advice that comes from Jesus or the biblical witness seems removed from daily life. This time it applies every day in this moment in history. We can be a force for change, just by being careful about what we say or what we allow others to say without challenge. This one we can put into practice right now. If we work together and support each other, we can do it.

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

James 2:14-26

We’re a few weeks into our reading of the book of James and I’ll bet you’ve got his main argument down:  it takes both faith and action to model your life on Jesus, which is how James understands what God wants of us.  He gives good examples that people of his time would have experienced daily.  You see someone hungry, you feed them.  You see someone without clothing, you give them something to wear.  When you see a need, you meet it.  Later he tells us that’s what Rahab did when the spies from Israel scoped out Jericho:  she helped them escape capture. Later when the walls fell, Rahab’s house built into the wall stood. I don’t think Family of God needs much encouragement to meet needs that we see in the community.  Although there will always be new opportunities, we are pretty good at seeing a need and meeting it, at least so far as we’re able.  We also identify what we do as a “faith response.”  But I suspect that part is harder for us to define.  So, let’s take a crack at it today.

One way to understand “faith” is believing things that are hard to believe.  The more unlikely that something is true, the more faith it takes to believe it.  Resurrection would fall into that category.  It might be the biggest one.  So would the walls of Jericho tumbling down after the Israelites marched around the city seven times blowing trumpets.  Or Ezekiel preaching to a field of dead bones that become living men again.  There are lots of Bible stories which on the surface seem unlikely to have happened.  Many are allegories or fables, or other tales told for the point and not the details.  Remember our friend Marcus Borg who taught us, “The Bible is full of many true stories, some of which happened.”  Faith as believing the impossible isn’t what James is talking about.

Another way of defining “faith” is believing that the doctrines of the church are true.  “Jesus died for our sins,” is a doctrine, as is “Jesus’ body rose from the dead.”  “Anyone who isn’t Christian is going to hell” is one of my least favorite doctrines.  From time to time the teachings of the church get adapted by new scientific knowledge or changes in culture.  I suspect that a majority of people who identify as “Christian” today couldn’t tell you many of what the doctrines are.  But James isn’t talking about being doctrinally pure because when he wrote, the doctrines hadn’t been defined yet.  We’re talking about early second century when all there was for Jesus’ followers to go by was Jesus. 

Which leads us to what I’m guessing James meant by faith:  trusting Jesus and the stories about his teachings to be helpful.  For the earliest followers Jesus was a reliable guide to the best way to live in what Jesus called “the reign of God.”  Martin Luther King Jr. called it the “Beloved Community.”  We often refer to it as “becoming whole.”   Jesus described it with encouragement to “love one another,” “love your neighbor as yourself,” “love your enemy,” “share with those who have less than they need,” “trust God to care for you.”  When we’re reminded of these teachings, we can understand why James links faith and action so closely.  None of these teachings is something you just think is true.  They are all actions.  It isn’t just knowing the story that matters, it’s putting the point of the story into practice in your daily life. 

Here's an important distinction that I hope I can explain…faith isn’t just believing the right things; it’s becoming a person shaped by Jesus and his love of God and humanity.  There’s a strong thread of what’s called Christianity which stresses what we believe. Think the right things and repeat the right things and you’re in.  You’re “saved.”  That kind of salvation is a ticket for a future reward.  Accept Jesus, say the words, go to heaven when you die.  James is saying that faith is about becoming a new person.  Understand the teachings of Jesus so you can live them, and you enter a new way of life right now.  You put what you know (faith) into action (works) and you ARE both of those things combined.  When we do that together, we’re being the reign of God in our own time and place.

Let’s take another whack at making sense of this.  There are a lot of Christians who separate what they believe about God from how they live.  Or they separate “religion” and “Life” into two separate compartments of daily living. You go to church, hear the ancient stories, sing old or new songs, drink coffee and eat donuts – that’s the religion part of your life.  Then you go into the rest of your week, go to work, take your kids to school, hang out with friends, go to the game or the movies – that’s the Life part of your life.  They can be separated.  How you behave or think at church might not be the same as how you act at a hockey game. 

James is saying that what you believe can’t be separated from how you live.  Even if you say holy things, if you don’t live by them, you don’t believe them.  How you live day by day can’t be separated from who you are, and your faith is how you define who you are.  Your life is the consequence of what you hold true.  Whatever you believe to be true is your faith.  It may sound like Christian doctrine, or it might not.  James is telling us that if we don’t live by it, we don’t believe it.  Because faith is who we are, not what we think.

Someone asked Nadia Bolz Weber how she could have faith when life is so hard, and resurrection seems so unlikely.  Here’s part of her answer:

Maybe faith isn’t about the intellect or even “feelings”.  Maybe it’s about a deep knowing.  And I suspect that if you can quiet down all those church-y messages you received, you might, in the moments between your breaths, in the moments between your doubts, be just barely still enough to know that God is.

I know people who can tell us exactly what that means.  God is.  But I can’t.  Most of the doctrines that have explained it to me over the years seem self-serving and doubtful to me.  But I believe it’s true.  James believes it’s true.  The word that comes to me this week is possibility.  God is the possibility that we can love one another.  It’s the possibility that we can live in chaotic times and not be afraid.  It’s the possibility that the hungry can be fed, the damaged can be healed, and the world can become a beloved community.  One story goes that when Moses wanted to know the name of God, he was told it was, “I am.”  Paul Tillich called that “the Ground of Being.”  Eckart Tolle once told Oprah, “I am God.”  It scared her to death, and I believe it’s true.  None of us replaces God, but God is the heart of all that we are.  God is our “being-ness”.  The Shema tells us to love God with heart and mind and strength – the word strength translated literally is “muchness.”  James is telling us that we can’t separate faith and action because faith is knowing God with all that we are.  When we know ourselves to be filled with the presence of God, what we do is love our neighbor and create community.  We live our faith because we ARE our faith.  When we know that to be true in our deepest places, the possibilities are endless.

Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

James 2:1-13

We’re reading the book of James this fall.  It’s a project to discover what the first followers of Jesus thought was important as they tried to form communities of faith.  It’s also a project to help us think about what’s important to us 2000 years later as we try to form communities of faith.

When your community is small, new and struggling, it makes sense that you want to attract important new folks.  James would agree that new folk were important, but he’s pretty clear about which ones matter most – all of them.  Don’t just pay attention to people with money and influence.  Everyone matters.

Paying attention to wealth has plagued the church throughout its history.  I remember a treasurer telling me I couldn’t offend a particular family because they had money.  (She was very irritated when I found out they had influence but weren’t actually donating anything toward the church budget.)  I suspect each one of us could name an organization we’ve been part of over the years where a person’s influence became outsized because of wealth or family name or length of tenure or something not related to actual wisdom.

Martin Luther King, Jr. once preached that 11 a.m. Sunday is the most segregated hour in America.  That’s true still.  We are racially segregated, and I believe we are economically segregated.  We’re probably divided in many other important ways.  The churches which should be the gathering place for people all across our community actually reflect self-selected groups of like folks – like-minded, like-educated, like-aged, like-whatever.  It makes sense that we group ourselves with people with whom we feel comfortable.  But the reign of God isn’t about being comfortable.  It’s about many things, including being inclusive.

James is asking us to stretch beyond our comfort zone.  I’m as guilty as most of not wanting to do that very badly. It’s relatively easy to hang out with folks whose lives are just like mine.  It’s harder to connect with people whose life experiences are quite different.  Thinking economically, we’ve become friends with people at LaGrave who live on much less income than most of us do.  I’m happy to give those people food.  It makes me feel good.  But many of them have asked me about our church and I haven’t yet provided a ride so they can join us.  I know they’d be welcome, but thinking about welcome and actually picking people up on Sunday morning aren’t the same thing.

The divide cuts in multiple directions.  I remember my grandmother telling me about how she was a great tennis player as a young adult.  Some of her friends offered her a free family membership to the country club if she would come teach them to play tennis better.  My grandfather wouldn’t let her do it.  He was a machinist who was uncomfortable with the thought of his family joining the country club.  He couldn’t believe he’d fit in with “those rich people.” 

Beyond the logistics of forming communities of multiple income levels, multiple education levels, multiple political parties, multi anything, is the underlying principle which makes James believe being inclusive and welcoming matters:  God loves us all.

We all belong together because God loves each and every one of us.  No one is better than any other; all are loved.  James quotes, “Love others as you love yourself.”

That starts with believing that we are loved.  It’s a temptation to compare myself with others and feel like I come up short.  James reminds us that God loves us all the same.  None of us has to be the best at everything to matter.  It’s OK to just be on the team.  Love is the great leveling field.  There are a great many big theological ideas in the world today.  Here’s the most important one:  you are loved. We can’t hear too many times or too many ways:  God loves you.

God’s love doesn’t depend on us getting the rules right (although James tells us that it’s helpful if we try to follow them).  It doesn’t depend on us loving God (although that’s a good basis for life).  It doesn’t depend on our success or failure at anything (although we can enjoy times life goes well for us).  God loves us because God IS love.

The best response to God’s love is to share it.  James isn’t asking us to love the peasant more than the ruler, but to love both.  We form community best when we value every single person.  Then we give each one what they need – a seat where they can hear best, a bland diet at the potluck, a ride home…  We treat people according to what is best for them, not according to what they can do for us.

We’re living in a time that’s becoming more and more divided.  Last Tuesday some of the statewide candidates for office held a town hall in Grand Forks.  It was advertised on Facebook and the comments caught me by surprised.  One I remember noted that the person would never go to hear a Democrat.  She didn’t, in fact, know any Democrats, but she did know that all of them were terrible people and electing them would destroy our state.  I thought about being offended.  Some of my best friends are Democrats.  Then I realized that we could switch the name of the political party and there would be just as many people saying the same thing.  When did we stop listening to each other?  When did compromise become a negative word?  When did we stop agreeing on common goals and working to help everyone?  How can we get back what we’ve lost?

Because God loves everyone, everyone deserves respect.  Everyone’s opinion matters.  Everyone has value.  Value doesn’t come from income or degrees or skin color or gender or any of the ways we judge each other.  Value comes from being alive and being loved.  James tells us over and over that behavior matters, but value falls equally on everyone.  A community gets to set norms and standards about how they will work together, but they don’t get to discard anyone as being without worth.  We can practice how we think about one another until we get this right.  I can disagree with you, but not devalue you.  I can ask you do behave differently, but not devalue you.  When I catch myself wanting to put someone down or disparage their ideas, I need to remember that this is a person God loves – as much as God loves me.  Here’s what that means (from the wedding yesterday and the letter to Corinth):  love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. 

We can build this community and our wider community on love.

Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

James 1:1-5, 12-18

 Over the summer we’ve spent a lot of time hearing from people who have commitments to shaping a better world.  We’ve heard from those who want the world to be safer, with fewer guns and more respect.  We’ve heard from people who want the world to be wider and more welcoming – of people from other countries or cultures or different understandings of self.  We’ve heard from letter writers and labor advocates and we’ve heard from one another.  All these stories are good.  And if truth be told, all this dreaming has made me a little bit tired.  I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that there is a lot to fix in this world and sometimes I need a bit of a break from fixing.  A little rest.

 So then, we come to fall and the question:  what do we do next?  The lectionary of suggested scripture passages suggests that we hang out in the book of James for a while, and while I hardly ever pay much attention to what a list tells me we should do, I’m thinking, “Why not?”  Let’s read the book of James and see what we can find there.

 Truth be told, I’ve always liked James, and I like it even more after I found out that Martin Luther wanted it removed from the Bible, “an epistle of straw” he called it.  Let’s start with why that might be.  James talks a lot about what people need to do to connect with God in Jesus’ way.  We’re going to read several suggestions for our behavior in the weeks ahead.  Luther may have read those suggestions as requirements for salvation.  And he didn’t like that.

 Those of you who came to the film showing of “God and Country” on Thursday night heard me say that all theology (or thinking about God) is culturally conditioned.  What we believe about God always makes sense in our particular time and place.  One of Luther’s pet peeves was the common practice of his day of using salvation as a fundraiser.  The Church in Luther’s time needed money.  It was building expensive buildings.  It had been fighting expensive wars or crusades. There were disputes over whether the Church owned massive land holdings or if they belonged to others.  Some of its leaders had developed expensive lifestyles.  It needed someone to pay the bills.  In our day when churches need money, they sometimes hold a bazaar and sell stuff.  In Luther’s day, the church sold salvation.  They called it “indulgences.” For a price you could buy a piece of paper that guaranteed you were going to heaven.  You could buy one for yourself or for a family member who had died or for your children.  You could buy them for folks who seemed like heavenly material or for those who seemed quite unlikely to qualify.  Make a donation and secure your spot in eternity. 

 Martin Luther hated indulgences.  He insisted that the Bible says salvation is a gift, given freely by God because God is love and wants us to have eternal life.  We’ve come to call this gift grace, the outpouring of God’s love for everyone.  It’s a wonderful concept.  When Luther read in James that faith requires certain behaviors, “Faith without works is dead” we’re going to read, he cried, “NO!”  Faith is a gift of grace.  Salvation is the free gift of God!  I think he was right, but I don’t think he understood the context of James.

 When we were hanging out for a while in the first century with a variety of Jesus groups, their primary question wasn’t, “Are we saved?” or “What do I have to do to have eternal life?”  It wasn’t the question Luther and the church’s indulgences were asking or answering.  Their question was, “How do I make it day to day in the Roman Empire?”  People were asking Jesus about how to live with Roman violence and crushing poverty and the separation of families and communities under slavery.  Jesus’ followers in the first century were remembering Jesus’ advice and forming communities to put it into practice.  Their focus wasn’t “How do I guarantee eternal life?” it was, “How can I be a follower of Jesus when so many forces want to make that hard?”  And when we read James in that context, it makes sense.  He tells us how to live in Christian community in the face of hard times.

 So we make a beginning today.  James is writing to people who lived in hard times.  Who doesn’t?  Although the specifics of hardship and their degree vary a lot from generation to generation, everyone struggles at times.  He starts out writing to his friends who are struggling, “Be glad for these difficult times because they help us get in touch with our faith!”  Sometimes those words are comforting and sometimes they just make me angry!  James is very clear about one thing folks often miss in this context:  Hard times don’t come from God.  God doesn’t send hardship to punish us, or to makes us stronger.  God is good, and if something isn’t good in your life, it’s not from God!

 I remember when I buried a young man in his 20’s killed in a head-on collision on a foggy night.  People were comforting his widow, barely out of high school with her whole life turned upside down, by saying his death was God’s will.  I wanted to deck them!  Accidents happen, illnesses happen, wars happen…and none of them is God’s punishment for us.  God doesn’t send us hardship, God stands with us in hardship.  Life is sometimes breathtakingly painful, because that’s the way the world is.  But we never face the pain alone.

 Pema Chodrin, a Buddhist nun, writes about how to cope with the disasters that come into our lives.  It doesn’t matter what form disaster takes – the end of relationship, a natural disaster, a business closing, and illness – and it doesn’t matter if it’s big or small.  When a disaster is ours, it’s overwhelming and it hurts.  Chodrin tells us the way to healing isn’t turning away, it’s going through.  The way to returning joy is through the pain.  But not on our own – with those who surround us with help.  James says the same thing God is pouring light into your life whenever there is darkness. 

 I want us to read James this fall not as a formula for earning eternal life – do this to be saved.  I want to read it as a guidebook for taking care of one another when the road is rough.  It’s not a question of whether or not God loves us or God is good or there is Light in darkness.  It’s not a question of being saved.  It’s a promise that there is a way through because God loves us and God is good and there is Light in every darkness.  That’s what Jesus was talking about.  God IS love!

 So here’s step 1:  We’re in this together.  We can make a good and godly life together.  We can face whatever storms we face together.  Before we talk about anything we’re going to do for each other, before we decide how we’re going to fix the world around us, let’s begin with what James says first of all, “God is pouring Light into this world, all over us, all around us.”  When you see it, name it.  When you can’ t see it, take the hand of someone who does.  Let’s become the light of the world together.

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Matthew 25:31-40

Restorative Justice recognizes that crime hurts everyone – those who have been harmed, those who have done harm, and the community.  It creates an obligation to make things right.  The foundation of restorative justice is genuine accountability based on 3 R’s: respect, responsibility and reimlationships.

-Minnesota Department of Correction

We were looking forward to having Jennifer Compeau with us today, but a death in her family meant she needs to reschedule.  Jennifer has her own story to tell of addiction and incarceration and of recovery and new beginnings.  She’s been awarded a grant from Minnesota ACLU to collect the stories of people in NW Minnesota who have been incarcerated because of addiction and to propose programs which help people into recovery, jobs, family and all those  things we all hope for. 

Before I knew that Jennifer wasn’t going to be able to be with us, I went looking for information about restorative Justice to include as a reading for today.  I was pleased that the first place that popped up when I did a google search was the Minnesota Department of Corrections.  I find it hopeful that a state department tasked with jailing people, also works with programs that avoid jailing people, but finding better ways to be, as they say, respectful, responsible and in relationship.

Most of us have some connection with the correctional system – a friend or family member, a friend of a friend, Michael the valve-turner with whom we corresponded when he was in jail in Bismarck.  We know how simply putting someone in jail does nothing to correct the problems which led to crime in the first place.  Jail isn’t a great place to get treatment for addiction, to finish an education which was hard in the first place, to learn interpersonal skills about how to get along with family or co-workers, to overcome poverty.  Restorative justice programs hold people accountable when they harm others AND provide the resources needed to prevent future crimes, giving people a chance to create a better life for themselves and others.

Restorative justice says “people matter.”  All the people involved in crime or other difficult situations matter, and they can all be involved in finding a way to make amends and change directions.

Our scripture lesson today says the same thing, “People matter.”  People who are ill, people burdened with poverty, people without adequate nutrition, people in jail.  That was the list of People-Problems in the first century.  We could add to it today – people with mental illness, those with addictions, those victims of domestic violence or sexual violence, those with physical or mental disabilities, those without friends, those without job skills, those without transportation or housing, those displaced from their countries and now refugees…  There’s no shortage of people with needs in our world.  And if truth be told, there’s also not a shortage of people willing to help. 

This past week some of us were glued to the Democrats’ political convention, where we heard over and over stories of people helping their neighbors.   It was fun to hear so often, not that there weren’t problems in this world, but that there were solutions, and those solutions often looked like ordinary people doing something to help out. 

We’ve spent this summer hearing about some of the many needs in our community.  This series started out in my head looking like prophets calling us to action, and we’ve had some of that.  It looked like helpers in the community reporting on ways to make a difference, and we’ve had some of that.  It looked like all of us talking about our own good ideas for making life better for folks, and we’ve had some of that.  The cumulative effect has been a little heavier than I’d hoped, but we are smarter than we began.

I’m pretty committed to Christian community being about helping folks.  Family of God is perhaps the church I know most committed to making a difference in the world.  But not even Family of God is going to solve all the problems of the world!  This is a good time for us to remember that none of us is called to do it all, and each of us is called to do something.  How do we know what part of the need is our job?  It’s the part that moves our heart and gives us joy.

When we do light signs, those of you who like to talk out loud share the things you’ve done that week.  There’s a pretty big variety – driving, cooking, sewing, repairing, weeding.  Some of you take part in policy and program meetings.  Some of you roll back your neighbor’s trash bin.  All of those things and more are light signs.  When something is our job, it shows up.  We trip over it.  We say, “Oh, I can do THAT!” and we do.  It comes easy to us.  We’re glad to do it. 

When something isn’t our job, it seems distant from us.  It’s about people we haven’t met or places we haven’t been.  We can’t imagine how we would help.  How would we make peace in Gaza?  How would we design a job-training program for inmates in Stillwater prison?  It’s beyond us.  But it’s not beyond everybody.  It’s somebody else’s job.

It matters that we do what we can where we can.  It also matters that we think about what else needs to be done. We’re smarter now than we were in June about what other people are doing in our community.  We’re at the time in our political cycle that we dream about policies we’d like to see candidates support.  Our energy around these needs matters because it makes space for possibility.  It creates hope and room for dreaming, and someday the right person will trip over that need and it will happen.

One of the most important things we did during light signs this summer is say “no” to sponsoring a refugee on our own.  Hopefully another church in town is going to step up to that plate this week.  But it wasn’t our job.  It didn’t give us energy or joy.  Because we’re no doing it, someone else will, and we’re ready for the right thing that comes our way, someday.  You all know how much I like to feed people.  You get in on the action, probably more than you wish you did.  But I can’t feed people in Gaza or Ukraine or Sudan.  The United Nations does that.  World Central Kitchen does that.  I give an insignificant amount of money to those folks, along with millions of others, and they do the work.  Because they know how and they find joy in doing it. It’s not our job to fix the world.  It is our job to do the part we care about most.  And then we hear Jesus say to us, “Well done.  Thank you.”

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Today Rosemary Hoverson and Kathleen Ness told us about their work with "Results" writing informed letters to the editor about policies to address poverty.  Their guide is attached.  We thank them for their work and for making it easier for us to also write effective letters.

HOW TO WRITE A LETTER TO THE EDITOR/LEGISLATOR/CONGRESSPERSON

 The letter has three parts:

• A HOOK TO GRAB THE READER’S ATTENTION

• A STATEMENT OF CONCERN WITH AN EXPLANATION OF WHY THE READER SHOULD BELIEVE IT IS URGENT

• A CALL TO ACTION

1. START AT THE END: WHAT IS IT YOU ARE ASKING FOR? (i.e., I ask that you support increased funding for . . .

2. THE MIDDLE: EXPLAIN YOUR CONCERN. Why should they join you in supporting this cause: What objective data can you provide to prove a compelling need? What story can you tell to illustrate the need? Facts make you credible; stories make you memorable.

3. THE BEGINNING: WHAT HOOK CAN YOU USE TO GRAB THEIR ATTENTION? (If you are writing a letter to the editor, your hook can be a reference to an article they published recently.)

REVISE. Letting the letter sit overnight so you can read it with fresh eyes the next day really helps in editing.

REALIZE your letter is not an end in itself. It is a means to establish or further a relationship. The tone of your letter not only tells the reader what your opinion is of the topic at hand, but also conveys your feeling toward them. You are always setting the stage for the next communication.

ONCE YOUR LETTER TO THE EDITOR IS PUBLISHED, send the link to your legislator/congressperson, asking that they take action. Communicate strategically. Find out who is key to furthering your cause and send your letter to them or their aide responsible for your topic of interest. If you receive a response, reply, if only to say thank you for replying. 

“RESULTS is a movement of passionate, committed everyday people. Together they use their voices to influence political decisions that will bring an end to poverty. Backed by the in-depth research and legislative expertise of staff, RESULTS advocates realize the incredible power they possess to use their voices to change the world.”  From RESULTS website, results.org

“Raise Your Voices, Children!” is the name of the song. Lyrics by Kathleen Ness, music by Ron Franz.

Here are a couple of readings taken from  our UU hymnal:

• Now is the accepted time, not tomorrow, not some more convenient season.
  It is today that our best work can be done and not some future day or future year.
  It is today that we fit ourselves for the greater usefulness of tomorrow.
  Today is the seed time, now are the hours of work, and tomorrow comes the harvest and the playtime.

By  W. E. B Du Bois

•  Save us from weak resignation to violence,
  Teach us that restraint is the highest expression of power, that thoughtfulness and tenderness are the mark of the strong;
  Help us to love our enemies, not by countenancing their sins, but remembering our own.

Christian Prayer