Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Quiet, You Two, It’s Both

Readings:
Isaiah 42:1-9
Acts 10:34-43
Matthew 3:13-17


Audio sermon link: https://fileresource.sitepro.com/filemanager/74/filecollections/422/FF14E288-6C9D-B6CE-B557-8B3B56A62C29.mp3

The season of Epiphany continues, the season in which we celebrate light, revelation, manifestation, the light of God come into the world. We see because of God’s illuminating our way.

Epiphany truly is a moment of realization, the light bulb going on over one’s head, the true AHA moment.

Yet that truth is often hard to understand. It’s a baby, but it’s God; He’s human, yet He’s divine. How do we make sense of this?

Was Jesus divine, but came to us in a recognizable disguise? It may be too degrading to think of a truly divine being in only human terms. Or was he human, but a truly special, holy human.

I’m sorry for the analogy, but it reminds me of the old Saturday Night Live commercial in which Chevy Chase saves the day when two housewives are arguing, “It’s a floor wax. No it’s a dessert topping!” and Chevy interrupts with “Quiet, you two. It’s both!”

Perhaps a more palatable metaphor is an ongoing philosophical discussion in the realm of physics, that of the nature of light. Perhaps this is a more telling metaphor for Epiphany, a season of light. Physicists have constructed theories of light and light travel that are based on both the particle and wave natures of light. In certain undeniable experiments, light behaves exactly as if it were made up of discrete particles much like billiard balls. In other experiments, light forms patterns remarkably similar to those observed in fluid waves. Scientists have been unsatisfied wholly with either theory as neither, alone, can explain all the observed phenomena nor can either alone explain the nature of light in its entirety.

Very much, as Pastor Mohn points out, like the scripture stories of Jesus, neither of these hypotheses is enough, on its own, to, as she put it, account for all the truisms (I loved that expression!). Much like the hypotheses about the physical nature of light, just because an explanation is easy does not mean it’s right; just because it fits neatly in a little box does not mean it offers us the whole truth.


Cut to airport story: your flight’s delayed and they make an announcement over the PA. People rush to the attendant’s desk to inquire about the details and then there’s that one person who skirts the line and perches themselves at the side of the desk, expecting a personal audience with der Fuhrer. Our response? Often it’s “Who do you think you are? You’re no different than us! Who does this person think they are?”

In Jesus’ baptism today, the message is clear: He does not think he’s above it all. He will bear the weight of the tension between the human and the divine … all the way to the cross. He neither requests nor expects any special detour around security, any first class upgrades, no skirting lines with Him. Where the rest of us are quietly awaiting news of when the delayed flight will arrive or next depart, here He is, among us, in the crowd. Jesus is found with the weary traveler, where ever people are tired and hungry, where there is sin and brokenness. God’s heart is with those who struggle and we are called to be in this place with them as well.

For sure, if we do, we will experience discomfort. But this is where God is to be found.

The security we seek is an illusion. Brokenness is innate to humanity. We can not escape it; avoiding it is a folly.

God is carrying us into dark places … and filling them with light, meaning, hope. His place is never exclusive – Members Only. It is always and entirely inclusive.

His is a Big, Big House … with lots and lots of room;
with a big, big table, with lots and lots of food.


With Epiphany comes the realization that God means business … and, most of all, that business is the business of everyone!

Another Way

Readings:
Isaiah 60:1-6
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12


Audio sermon link: http://fileresource.sitepro.com/filemanager/74/filecollections/422/55C2966E-8F65-C873-1A07-FDF5C25E6D6F.mp3


Pastor Johnson weaves the "wacky story of three wise men and a baby king". This baby is not a king anyway anyone has ever understood a king. The background is one of intrigue.

So it pays to consider how we respond to intrigue.

Herod live s life in the folly of thinking he is in total control, a delusion of control that brings him to try to kill the king. He is driven by self-centeredness and a lack of respect. James Taylor sings a Christmas carol I enjoy listening to each year. In it, he writes of Herod:

"Avoid a royal welcome,

Avoid a big to-do;
A king that will slaughter the innocents
Will not cut a deal for you”


The truth in the story lies in the response of the three wise men. They are drawn to the radiance in the manger; they kneel and pay homage. Their key lies in developing the eyes of the heart, ones spoken by Antoine de Saint Exupery’s Little Prince:



Kings are supposed to give the powerful even more power. The word on the streets is that THIS King is a king of justice and mercy. He will lift up the lonely and powerless and turn over the status quo. And this king comes as an infant. An infant who will become priest and prophet.

The gifts the visitors bring portend the future of this baby’s life; gold for the king, frankincense for a priest, myrrh for a prophet who will be martyred on a cross.

And what do the wise men say upon arriving. Sorry, wrong house?

No, quite the contrary. They are struck by the radiance of the child and hit their knees. I have heard Pastor Johnson tell the story about how Hannah, his daughter, was born on Epiphany. I never tire of a father telling of the radiance he sees in the eyes of his child. I remember Pastor Johnson visiting our family when my youngest child, Lorin, was born. How he held him in his arms and smiled. I will never forget that sight. That from the throne of a bassinet, in a baby’s face is all the hope … for a new family. In that bright, shiny moment is a feeling of hopefulness for the future.

Our message today from the scripture: be careful who you make king in your life. Almost always, prophets are crusty; they mix with lepers and tax collectors. We would be served well to develop the eyes of the wise men. To see the radiance in the crib, to view in this light a different nature – one that tells you you are standing in a special moment. And it would do well to remember that these special moments are often wrapped in ordinary places – your kitchen, your driveway, your classroom.

The grace of God is where that radiant light has entered your life – a hug or a touch, a moment of forgiveness. When you see this light, you are in the presence of Christ, you are beneath the star peering into the manger, into the radiance of that bay’s face.

This light is portable. You can take it with you. And it can change a life. Let us be ever so thankful there are moments of great light.

And, as the lyrics to James Taylor’s Christmas carol remind me as I drive around town on a starry evening:

“They tell me this life is a miracle
And I figure that they’re right.
But Herod’s always out there
He’s got our card on file;
It’s a lead pipe cinch, if we give an inch,
That Herod’s gonna take a mile.
So maybe me and you could be wise guys too
And go home by another way”

That other way is the way lit with that portable light. And you can take it with you.

We can open our eyes to that moment of great light … take it with us, and go home by another way.

Come to the Feed Bunk

Readings:
Isaiah 7:10-16
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25

Pastor Mohn reminds us that even for those of us who are happy, there are moments when happiness is not sustainable, moments we feel we ought to be happier. We’re naturally anxious, apprehensive, lonely, exhausted, where it’s hard to know what to feel, what to be. In these times of curious anxiety, no matter where we find ourselves, we are all called to one, same place: the manger. Whether your road has been through a funeral, a memorial service, a brush with death, a re-birth or re-awakening, all are called to one place.

Pastor Mohn shared that when she joined her Dad for chores on the farm, she often perched on a fence and liked to “watch from a distance”, dressed in her coat and gloves that did not match. When the weather was cold, she had to “take it inside” to the silo shed or the feed bunk. The feed bunk ends up being a powerful metaphor for the manger. We end up there when other places just won’t do. Even, and especially, at the feed bunk, you’re aware of the animals feeding; you’re at the safest spot with the bay and the animals feeding, not removed, at a distance, on the fence, far away.

Even in homes with quaint fireplace cozies, if you scratch beyond the surface, there are rats. The feed bunk calls because it is the safest place to be, where you can bring your baggage … you’re even supposed to … and, even if your coat or your hat doesn’t match your gloves, all are welcome.

Somehow, as Pastor Mohn painted this glorious picture, I imagined the Who’s down in Whoville … on Christmas morning , after the Grinch “stole Christmas” … they gathered together under a star, circled around a glimmering light and held hands, all called to a single, centered place where … they sang … sang a song of thanksgiving for the true meaning of Christmas.


Christmas comes, as the Whos knew, “not from a store … for maybe Christmas, just maybe, is a little bit more”. Christmas comes in a broken world, in the holding of hands at the manger, where the promise is born. And when we’re all in there, we won’t be cramped. That circle expands to fill the world. Five loaves and two fish feed thousands with plenty left over. The blind will see, the hungry will be fed, hope will be restored, and, when there’s nothing left, He will give Himself … on a cross.

As Jesus the baby becomes Jesus the man, the whole world will become the manger. God will walk up and relieve us all of our baggage … and what’s left over will be enough for everyone.

No matter your road … it’s time. Come … put your boots on, head to the feed bunk and join hands.

Attentive Waiting

Readings:
Isaiah 11:1-10
Romans 15:4-13
Matthew 3:1-12

As we continue the Advent journey, Pastor Mohn reminds us that while Isaiah has a future vision of what will come to be, we may have a hard time believing it can happen. John takes an angrier tone, claiming that someday, somehow, something will happen, but we also are called to “act now”.

But, along with such action, the reality is there is also “a waiting” during which we’re not sure, at all, what will happen. While we may be waiting in our daily lives … for that promotion, for the yearly bonus; over paperwork that will feed into our lives … college applications, a loan, and so forth, ALL of creation is “waiting patiently” for God to finish what God started in Jesus Christ.

What does it take to “wait on God” … well, there’s 2 sides:

One part of us asks “What am I going to do until “then”? and answers in “the passive”. Many of us take a “wait & see” approach, like watching the ketchup flow from the bottle, ever so slowly. Pastor Mohn reminds us that this thinking drives John the Baptist nuts! “Repent – they’re coming”. Alternatively, many of us think the world is nuts out there, and we’ll be content to sit tight ‘til He comes and “makes it right”.

I remember one Christmas season when I was traveling with my wife through Penn Station in NYC where I saw a sign for a fenced off waiting area advertising this as the Express Waiting Area. It had the ironic tinge of “non-stop, uninterrupted, accelerated waiting”, but what most characterized it was how it cordoned off its inhabitants who looked out onto the hustle-bustle of the traveling hordes and simply watched passively, waiting for their trains to where ever. It was markedly secuded and passive.

An alternative approach admits that Holy waiting is ACTIVE. A la John the Baptist. “Get out there and prepare ye the way of the Lord!” This active waiting does not necessarily imply “time busy”, but rather “Spirit busy” – stay busy in the Spirit!
Do not confuse this with distraction wherein we tend to make self the center. That takes us to where we’re not paying attention to what we’re waiting for.

Holy waiting is active and attentive, not “busy”!

It is one of being aware that God’s schedule and priorities are not ours. Holy waiting requires us to be attentive, listening to others and their needs. Holy waiting is a calling to live out our lives – in a spirit of wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, knowledge and fear of God.

This Spirit gives us help to see the future … with new eyes … and pull it into the present; it gives us the strength to live attentively; it gives us a different awareness, a different approach to time and our use of it.

Just when you think you understand something, you need to view it from a different perspective!

And if we have the faith to partake of attentive waiting, that view of the hopeful future will be one where the lion lies down with the lamb & all will be led by a little child.