Prodigal God

Rejoice with Me!
Luke 15:11-32
October 21, 2010

Rev. Selena A. Wright

Do you know why Jesus told this parable?

It all started a little earlier in the text, at the beginning of Chapter 15 we read that Jesus was out preaching and the tax collectors and the sinners were gathering close to listen. These were, the bad guys, or so said the religious leaders of the day. Jesus’ followers were not the well respected folks of the community, just the opposite. The outcasts, the marginalized, these were the people who stayed close to Jesus and Jesus kept near to them. So in verse 2 we read that the Pharisees were grumbling and saying, “this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

This was not a compliment. This was a judgment. What kind of example was this man named Jesus who welcomed sinners? Who even eats with them?

And in response to the statement of the Pharisees, offered as an accusation, Jesus tells them three different parables.

First he speaks of a shepherd who has 100 sheep. One of them wanders away and he leaves the 99 to go search for the one who is lost. When he finds it he calls his friends and family together and says, Rejoice with Me for I have found the sheep that was lost.

The second is about a woman who loses one of 10 coins and goes about looking everywhere for it. When she finds it she calls together her family and friends and says, Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that was lost.

And then we arrive at the prodigal son. The story of a father whose son ran away from and upon his return his father ran out to him and said, we must celebrate, and asked his friends and family to rejoice with him for his son was lost and has been found. But the man’s other son, the eldest, was angry and resentful of his brother’s welcome – he was lost too, and his father seeks him out, leaves the party to invite him in and asks, will you rejoice with me?

Where have you found yourself in this story?

I have tried to describe this parable in the past weeks so that we can find ourselves not just in one place, but in two places. We are all the younger son because we all at some point in our lives have run away from God, we have all tried to live or do or believe or hope on our own with no help from anyone, and especially not God. We want to believe that we will be just find on our own and so we leave, we leave God. Until it finally hits us and we realize that we can’t do it on our own and we return home, not even hoping for forgiveness and yet we are welcomed with open arms. Did you find yourself here? Broken, desperate, repentant, humbled – and yet loved, embraced, forgiven?

Or was it the elder brother you really identified with. The one who has lived a good life, made the right choices, done what was expected of him – but not because he wanted to but because he felt he had to. The elder son who was so desperate to receive his father’s approval, that he tried to earn the love that was freely given. And in the end, it made him jealous, bitter and resentful of those who had not worked as hard as he. He, who was unable to rejoice at the return of his brother because it wasn’t fair, because he deserved the party more than his brother. Did you identify with this man who remains a mystery – left outside with an invitation to come in – still unsure what he will do – to rejoice at his brother’s return…that is the question.
Where do you see yourself? Once you find yourself there, ask yourself…what is the point of this parable? Why did Jesus tell it?

Was it a parable for us to find our place, to see ourselves in the younger brother or elder brother or both? Is this a parable about us?

Or is it about more?

I want you to look at what is at the center of the painting. Nothing is very centered but more than anything else, it is not the younger brother, the prodigal as we often call him, and it is certainly not the elder brother who has been pushed to the side and in our painting, removed completely – it is the father. Rembrandt focused the light on him more than anyone else – on his face, his hunched shoulders and on his hands. It’s appropriate, isn’t it, for isn’t this parable not about the sons but about the father.

This is a parable about the prodigal – but not just the prodigal son, this is about the prodigal God.

Yep, you heard me right…the prodigal God.

I don’t think I have ever used the word prodigal in my life unless I was referring to this sc ripture and the son in particular and that has caused a problem. We don’t use the word and so we have forgotten the meaning. I don’t know about you but when I hear the word prodigal I think of recklessness, abandonment, arrogant, ignorant – all words we might ascribe to the son who left home, wasted his inheritance on debauchery and then stumbled home. But that is not the accurate definition of prodigal. Prodigal means reckless extravagance, which is different than recklessness. It also means lavishly abundant.

So it is easy to see that the son was recklessly extravagant in throwing all of his inheritance away on what scripture calls debauchery, you could also say stupid fun. But is it not also true that the father is recklessly extravagant in his forgiveness, is he not lavishly abundant in his love?
This story, this picture could just as easily be about the prodigal God as the prodigal son.
Lets look at it through his eyes. His son tells him I want my inheritance, now, I don’t want to wait till you die. And what does he do?

He lets him go? He gives him what he wants even though it is reckless and extravagant not to mention inappropriate for the son to have asked in the first place. He doesn’t hold his son close, even though the father has the foresight to know the pain that will come to his son, even though he knows he might be lost forever – his love is so lavishly abundant that it lets go…he gives his son the freedom to walk away. For any parent who has dropped a child off at college, you might know a bit of the anxiety and pain of letting go – you want to keep your kids close and safe but you love them enough to let them fall, and make mistakes and maybe worse. Your love frees them to go their own way, no matter how much it hurts you, you are truly reckless in your love.
And when that other child, the one who is close but distant says something hurtful, you calmly and steadily say again and again…I love you, and they say no you don’t, you love my brother more and you say again, I love you. And everytime that love is rejected or misunderstood or not taken seriously your heart breaks but you keep loving and welcoming and inviting.

We spend so much time on these brothers…thinking of the courage and humility it took the younger brother to return to his home…thinking of the change of heart and compassion that it would take the older brother to enter into the party and welcome his brother home…but do we think of the father?

How he was hurt to watch his son go? How he was hurt to watch his son stay – not out of joy but like a slave? How he celebrated at the return of one son and in that moment realized how much he had lost another?

How it feels to love so recklessly?

It sounds awful! It sounds like only a job for God.

And yet, here is this man before us, not a God just a parent.

Henri Nouwen says that whether you are the prodigal son or the elder brother – a return home, a return to the father, is first claiming yourself as the son or as the child of the compassionate father…but nto to end there. To truly come home is to commit to be the son no longer but to become the father.

We are to become the father. The prodigal son with all his recklessness now must turn that into reckless love. The elder brother with all his abundant work and dedication must transform that into abundant humility and compassion. They must grow into their father.

It is hard for us to hear that because this is not a text about us, really, right? It is about God, how much God loves us, how God will always welcome us home. Yes, that is true, but it is also a text about who we are called to be and how we are called to live into the prodigal love we receive from God.

The father in this story risked everything in love. He gave not only his money away to his son, but he gave his heart away as he watched one son leave in rebellion and one son stay out of fear or obligation. Nouwen says that to become the father we have to take part in the discipline of giving – giving of self. Giving ourselves away is not easy, it does not come naturally – what comes naturally are all the experiences of the children – rebellion, self-interest, greed, anger, resentment – but when we realize how God really loves us, forgives us, welcomes us and how much God will risk for us – we know that the ability to give – to give ourselves away – is there. That is what Jesus lived, as a human, and that is what we are called to do. Nouwen says that “giving all becomes gaining all” which we hear from Jesus when we says “anyone who loses his life for my sake…will save it!”

And this parable after all is about salvation, about gaining everything. The father let go, he gave his children the freedom to accept or reject his love but when they returned – (that is wishful thinking – we hope the elder son returned) but if he did and when his younger son returned, he is filled – filled with joy. So full in fact that he wants to share it with others…lets have a party, he says, just like the shepherd, upon finding his lost sheep says to his friends and family, “rejoice with me!” and the woman who found her coin says to those in her life, “rejoice with me!”

This is what God calls for us to do, to rejoice. This is what it means to be the father. To live in joy. And just like giving yourself away it is not easy and often it is not even natural. We want to dwell on the negative, we feel neglected and overlooked, we can count all of our ailments – physical, spiritual, social…and while we shouldn’t sugar coat the challenges of life – like the father we are called to live in joy. It doesn’t matter if your natural inclination is like that of the younger son – to run away or the older son, to do what you are told, when we return home – it is a choice not to continue as we are but to be better, to grow into the father. The father who lives his love in joy. He holds no resentment, he does not protect himself from pain – he has so given himself away in love all he has left is joy. Can you imagine – being so bold as to give away all your pain, all your jealousy, all your resentments, all your old hurts –and to hold on only to joy? What would that change in you? How would that change what comes from you? Do you think the brothers are capable – of living in the joy of their father?

It won’t be easy, joy, too, is a discipline. Nouwen says this discipline is choosing light even though you are surrounded by darkness, choosing life in the face of death, choosing truth in a culture of lies.

When the father sees his son coming up the road, he does not stand and wait. He does not remember the last words his son said to him, how harsh they were, or how they made him feel. Instead he chooses joy – and he runs – he runs to his son and embraces him – and then lifts up his joy and asks others to share in it.

Maybe you are the younger son

Maybe you are the elder son

But know, when you choose to go home – you go home to become the father.

That we must celebrate. Rejoice – rejoice with me! Amen.

Prodigal Brother

Amazing Grace
Luke 15:11-32

October 17, 2010

Rev. Selena A. Wright

I got a letter this week from someone who was quite unhappy with a few things that happened here in worship last Sunday, and I want to share it with you:

Dear First Christian Church:
I don’t even know where to begin. I saw the picture you had up in the sanctuary last week and it was like a slap in the face and then I heard the sermon and another slap. You ignored me completely. I am used to being left out of things – my own father sometimes seems to forget my name, but I expected more of you. You read about me in the scripture, sure, but I wasn’t referenced ONCE during the sermon and that picture, that beautiful Rembrandt painting that stood right beside the pulpit – did you know that is not the complete painting. At least Rembrandt didn’t forget me – actually some have argued that he did and I was added in later, but most reject this. I have requested that the complete picture be displayed this week to show that I was a part of this story, an important part and I am sick and tired of everyone forgetting about me. I am the good son but somehow my brother gets ALL of the attention. Actually it was kind of Rembrandt to include me in this scene because truth be told, I wasn’t there. Again, I was left out. And not because I was out carousing or doing any of the things my brother has done – no I was doing my job, I was working when he decided he was good enough to grace us with his presence. I wasn’t there when father welcomed him back, I wasn’t even told there was going to be a party. Instead I came home from work, a long hard day – mind you – to find out from a servant not only that my brother had come home but that father had slaughtered the fatted calf to celebrate! In that moment my blood was boiling. How dare he, how dare my brother come back here after basically telling father he wished he were dead and then leaving us all and throwing this families money away.

And how dare my father, not only welcome him home but throw him a party as if he has done anything right! He has never done what was right for this family. Even before he left, he hardly worked, he damaged our reputation every chance he got and never respected father the way he should.

I was so mad, and then father comes out and invites me in. Sure he said everything that is his is mine, well of course it is, I have earned it! And then he asked me to join the party but it wasn’t like he even considered cancelling it after I pointed out how much it hurt me that I have never been given a party. Maybe I should just treat father horribly, wander away, lose all my money and then I would get the royal treatment! It’s not right! Its not fair! I have done everything father has ever asked of me, I never left home, look at the picture – I look like my father, I dress like him, and yet…

Well even though I have been here all along…I feel so far away, so distant. No one has been a better son than me, no one is more responsible, giving, dutiful – and yet even in this picture you can see how far away I am from my father, from his embrace…

I am sorry to dump all of this on you but I had just had enough. I am sick of being overlooked. I am tired of being the one who gives and gives and works and works to be overlooked completely. I should be the one my father celebrates, I should be the one in his arms, not my rebel of a brother. I matter, my story matters and I thought you should here it, here it from me. Now I have to decide if I should go into this stupid party or just stay away. Can you relate to me at all?

Have you ever been left out? Have you ever felt the world is unjust? Do people always celebrate all that you do and give and are – I’ll bet you know what I mean. Church folks often do. You all spend so much time talking about my brother but isn’t he a little more like those folks that only show up on Christmas and Easter…what about the rest of you that are here everyday – giving to your church, leading your church, supporting your church. You understand, don’t you, how it hurts to be neglected. You know, that being in the church, singing the songs, often isn’t enough that you do everything you are supposed to do, you pray, you read the Bible, you visit the sick, you come to worship, you tithe, you volunteer and yet sometimes, often even, you feel far away from other people in the church and far away from God. Doesn’t that make you mad!? Don’t you sometimes, just want some recognition, to see that all of your work isn’t in vain?

I don’t know, I can hear the party going on right now, what should I do? Part of me, a big part of me wants to walk away just like my brother did. To leave it all – then they would know how much I did, how much they depended on me. But another part of me wants to go in, to do the right thing like I always do. I need to show father that I too am worthy of his love. To remind him of all that I do and will continue to do so that he will love me like he loves my brother. I want that love so much…

I’ll do anything for it. I’ve done everything for it. Maybe someday, I’ll have it.

Regards,

Elder brother

...

So that was hard to hear. He took us to task a bit and asked some hard questions, questions that shouldn’t be ignored. Can we identify with him? Do we know what he feels like? He seems to think that some folks who are committed to the church, maybe more than anyone, should be able to understand his pain. Because the fact of the matter is a great many of us haven’t ever left. We are the ones that have stayed close to home, we have remained faithful in our service to God. We have done what we were told, given what we were asked to give, showed up when we were needed and even more than that. We have gone over and above and all we ask for is an intimate relationship with God. To be blessed and chosen, to be recognized and appreciated. Just like the elder brother said, of course father loves me, I have earned it! I deserve it! And so we say, we have earned salvation, we deserve it! We have spent our lives showing ourselves and our families and our God that we are worthy of God’s love here on earth and through all eternity.
And yet this story flies in the face of that statement. The prodigal son and a few others like those that work in a vineyard all day who get paid the same as those who work only the last hour…tell us that this is not the way of God. But it is not easy to hear.

I’ll admit it, I struggle here, and I imagine many of you have figured this out. You hear in my sermons, quite often, words like call and go and do and care and share…because I believe in many ways our actions demonstrate to God and the world the conviction and faith of our hearts. I don’t think we are whole in your faith if we think and act on behalf of no one but ourselves. And yet, what the elder brother revealed to us, when he confessed the distance he feels from his father, is that while actions may be the natural response to God’s love – they are not always a response, sometimes they are plea, an attempt, a wish or a game.

We can lie just as easily with our actions as we can with our words. We can tell the world, we can tell God, we can even tell ourselves that we do all that we do because God calls us to do it, but deep down maybe we are not serving God at all. Maybe we are trying to serve ourselves. Feeding the homeless, saying prayers, going to church, welcoming strangers – we do it, not because we want to, but because we fear what would happen if we didn’t. We don’t trust ourselves nor do we trust God enough to love us if we run away from home or if we stay and are not perfect.

But the result doesn’t leave us where we want to be. It leaves us, like the elder brother at a distance, or standing outside of the party – feeling left out, alone, angry, bitter and resentful.
Very, very resentful. We resent our brothers and our sisters – for not doing the right thing, for making messes that we have to clean up. We resent everyone who is included, everyone who hasn’t worked as hard as we have, and maybe most of all and worst of all we resent God – for not being fair, for rewarding the wrong people and ignoring the right ones.

But God comes to us and says, no I have not ignored you, I love you. Will you come to the party, will you let me love you?

It sounds like a silly question doesn’t it. God’s love is what we want, God’s love and favor is what we work for day in and day out. And yet when we try to earn it or win it – we deny it. We are unable to accept God’s unconditional love, because we put the conditions on it. We limit God and God’s love by convincing ourselves or acting so that we are guaranteed love and heaven. And God asks again, will you let me love you? And we try to prove to God that we will but in doing so again and again we say no.

There is a song by David Wilcox that until I was writing this sermon I thought was about a really healthy relationship, a good marriage…but as I prayed and worked through this text and the emotions and insecurities and struggles of the elder brother, all of a sudden this song was about us and God. It is called hard part…it is a plea from God to us…you’ve got a whole heart, give me the hard part, I can love that too…

I want you to listen to the words, read them, find the vulnerability and the risk and then the joy in letting God love us truly unconditionally – hard parts and all…

I see the look that's in your eyes
That says 'I must keep most of me inside
'Cause you'd never love me if I didn't hide
the secrets of my heart”

Well I'm not here for the surface stuff
I just get bored with all that fluff
So show me the edges even if it's rough
And let the real love start

You think your shame and deep disgrace
Are more than I can bear
But you can go to your darkest place
I will meet you there

And I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

You look at me with some surprise
And I see the doubt that's in your eyes
Like something deep inside you cries
With a hunger to be known
Like a tiger born in a city zoo
There's been no place for what's inside of you
You try to live like the others do
And it leaves you so alone

I know you think that the heat of your pain
Is more than I can stand
Burn it all in one big flame
And I will hold it in my hand

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

Now your eyes well up with tears
As desire mixes with you fears
After so many wounded years
Can you long for what you've missed
You want a cool breeze to dance with your flame
A long lost lover who knows your true name
A secret garden beyond this shame
And it all comes down to this

You think your drowning hope will die
In a sea without a shore
But I can drink that ocean dry
And still come back for more

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too


I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

Whoever we are, whatever we are afraid to show God, this text – the story of the run away son and his disciplined good older brother reveal to us not just that God is forgiving but that we are powerless against God’s love.

As Thomas Fortenberry said, “There is nothing we can do to make God love us less. And there is nothing we can do to make God love us more.”

That, my friends is amazing.

That, is grace.

The Prodigal Son

Running Away from Home
Luke 15:11-32
October 10, 2010

Rev. Selena A. Wright

Did you ever run away from home as a child?

One of the great stories I have heard since I entered into the Wright family is of the big escape that Pat and his sister Adrien made when they were children. They were upset with their parents – no one remembers why – and so they decided home was no longer the place for them. They could do just as well out in the world – without parents to give them rules and to limit their fun.

And these were organized children. When I ran away from home as a child I just took off down the block, as if I were going on a walk, but Pat and Adrien were prepared. They made 3 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, one for each and one to share if necessary, and a box of Kudos bars – a popular candy & granola bar mix as well as a water bottle. Then Pat very strategically tied a wagon to the back of his bicycle so that he could ride his bike while his sister rode in the wagon. He even lined the wagon with his cookie monster sleeping bag so Adrien would have a comfortable ride.

On their way out the door they announced to their parents that they were running away and both remember their surprise that their parents didn’t stop them. And off they went, down the hill in front of the house into the cul-de-sac. When they reached the bottom of the cul-de-sac Pat felt like they had gone a fair distance – after all they had passed 4 houses, so it was probably time for a break. He stopped his bike but unfortunately he hadn’t had the forethought to think about what would happen with the wagon when he tried to stop the bike and a crash ensued. They found a good place to set up on someone’s lawn right at the end of their street. They had their lunch but Adrien’s injuries sustained during the crash were too much for them to handle alone. There was a conversation about how much trouble they would be in if they decided to go home, but both were confident that their parents would care for the scrapes before any punishment ensued – so the best choice was to go home. They packed their lunch back in the wagon and Pat and Adrien walked back home – Pat walking the bike this time with the wagon behind.

I wish I could have been there to see this all unfold. I wish there was some recording of the conversations that took place from the decision to leave, the packing of necessities all the way through the very difficult decision to return home. Its not that unique of a story really – I am sure many of you could tell me stories either of when you ran away from home as a child or when your children decided that home was no longer the place for them. What is it about children that leads them to the conclusion that they would do better out in the world alone then they would in the safety and comfort of the home that they have known.

Maybe it is the fact that they don’t know any different than a life at home, that leads them to make this decision. They don’t have a big enough perspective to see all that they have at home and all that they won’t have away from it. Maybe it is as simple as the human assumption that the grass is always greener on the other side. They venture out into the world because there must be something better than what they have at home. Or maybe it is just about declaring your independence – and identity. Rejecting everything you have known to “make your own way” – to prove to your parents that you don’t need their rules or their food or their care – that you can get by just fine on your own.

But its not just children that do this, is it? We do it all the time, especially in relationships – relationships not only with our parents but with siblings, children, even spouses. I have spoken to couples considering divorce and while some have experienced true brokenness in their relationships others are falling prey to these same emotions – wondering if there is something better out there, seeking independence and freedom from a prescribed identity or desiring the self-satisfaction of making it on your own.

We all worry about these things – we worry that we are not in the best job, in the best relationship. We worry that we are missing out on something or someone. Our self-worth is caught up in being the best, having the best, and doing the best. And part of being the best is not owing anything to anyone. We want to be able to say, “look what I did, all on my own!” For some reason we don’t want to need anything but the shirt on our backs. Call it rugged individualism or being self-centered…it is the way of our world and far too often we buy into it.

***

The story of the prodigal son is well known both in the church and in the world – it is a story about many things but truly it is a story about running away from home. The younger of the two sons tells his father he wants his inheritance now – he wants to leave, to leave his home, to leave his family, to leave everything he has known and not look back. We hear nothing in the scripture about what led him to this decision, probably because it was forgotten like Pat and Adrien can’t remember why they ran away from home. And just as Pat’s parents let their children go – the father gave the son what he was asking for – and the son went on his way. He went to a foreign land where he “squandered his money on a life of debauchery”

The question we must ask ourselves – is why did he go? Was there an incident? Did something happen that sent him over the edge? Or not? Maybe it was simply boredom? Or rebellion that led him to walk away from his life, his family, to walk away from everything and everyone?
And what was he looking for? Was it freedom? Pride in saying he can live on his own – that he doesn’t need anyone? Or was he in search of his own identity, a deeper sense of self? Or was it something else?

Often we run away – in search for something better…we leave not knowing what we are looking for – be it a person or money or fame or fulfillment – we just feel an emptiness and we travel to a distant land to find that which we lack.

Ok, it might not be a distant land for all of us, but we have all run away. Maybe not from our parents, maybe not from the houses we live in – but we have all run away from God. Sometimes we run away from God because we are angry – and like Pat and his sister told their parents, we say to God – if you loved me you wouldn’t be like this, life wouldn’t be like this.

Or we leave because we are bored. It doesn’t seem as though God is offering us what we really want, we are not getting the best of the best – and we just know there is something better out there.

Or we leave because we don’t want to have to trust anyone, we don’t want to owe anyone anything – not the church, not God. We want to show ourselves and the world that we can make it on our own. And we run away from home.

From God…from love.

Henry Nouwen writes, “leaving home is a denial of the spiritual reality that I belong to God with every part of my being, that God holds me safe in an eternal embrace. Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home and must look far and wide to find one.”

Nouwen wrote a book about this parable, called the Return of the Prodigal Son where he examines not only the scripture but Rembrandt’s painting of it…this painting that has been hanging in our church for the past 13 years. The painting was given to the church by the elder’s who as I have heard it studied this text with then pastor Don Beal. I imagine those elders read this same book – the book I am basing not only this morning’s sermon on but the next two weeks as well. But that is ok, because hearing this story once, twice, again and again is still not enough. This parable, the parable of the Prodigal Son has been called a mini gospel in and of itself because within it is so much truth and the good news we expect to find in our gospels. But good news in the gospels does not stand alone. It is always the response to pain and suffering and we see in this painting and we know in our hearts the pain and suffering of running away from home, running away from God.

Look at this man. His clothes are dirty and torn, his shoe is tearing off his foot, and he has no hair…which in his culture is a sign of a complete loss of identity – heads were shaven for prisoners or those in concentration camps. As we hear from the text he is weak, hungry, for he was not even permitted to eat the food given to the pigs. He looks nothing like his father – no jewlry or cloak, no beard – and he hopes not for the life that he had before he left, but to be treated as one of his father’s hired men, just for a job and food, not for the home that he abandoned. But according to Rembrandt’s painting – he has one thing that remains…a sword. Certainly a sword he left home with – his last and only tie to his father, his family. Nouwen points out that he could have sold it for food but he clung to it, remembering that if nothing else he is someone’s son.

And now he kneels before his father, not asking to be forgiven, not asking to be welcomed into the family – just asking for survival. He can’t even dream of reclaiming what he left.
What if we were to ask this man…the one bruised and broken – physically and spiritually – why he left. Will he remember? Certainly the specifics are not important because they didn’t make it into the gospel, but I imagine he would say…
I left to find exactly what I had.

We have all run away from home, we have all run away from God’s love and Nouwen confesses for himself and for all of us when he says, “I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found.”

We have all run away from home, run away from God looking for exactly that which God promises us. Sometimes we leave God for the love of another person – which feels right for a time – as relational love is an expression of divine love – but it is not the same, not as full, as whole as God’s love.

We run away from God trying to love ourselves, to find ourselves but the farther we get from home the less we know who we are at all.

Sometimes even we in the church and sometimes even the church runs away from God – we trust in our rituals and our community and our leaders and our music so much that in the good times and in the bad we put the church before God. Yes, we can run away from home, even in the church.

But there will be that day – when our hunger will be too much, or when our knees are scraped and we will realize that all that we want, all that we need is exactly what we have run away from…

and God will call to us…Come home…come home…ye who are weary come home…earnestly tenderly Jesus is calling, calling O sinner come home.

Procession to Praise

Procession to Praise
Luke 7:11-17 & Psalm 146

Preparing for this morning was a challenge. Poor Lisa, I changed the bulletins around 3 times because I just didn’t like what the lectionary text offer us this morning. Two that we read, and another from I Kings in which Elijah raises a young boy from the dead, very similar to the story read in Luke. For us, for a church who – beginning almost a year ago – has been actively grieving, it didn’t seem right to celebrate that Jesus restored life to the son of the woman in Nain to relieve her grieving because the same has not been offered to us, at least in this life. We have all suffered losses, some more significant than others, we have all been a part of a funeral procession but none of those have ever ended the same way it did in Luke’s scripture, never has an encounter with Jesus restored the one who was lost to those who grieve.

And so I tried to go another way, I prayed and scowered my Bible for a different, random scripture that could be the focus of our worship today, but God would not let me out of it. I turned to Psalm 146 and as I was studying it, it seemed every line brought me back in one way or another to the widow in Nain, to her son and to Jesus. Because no matter what our personal and emotional reactions are to that story it is a story of God’s grace, of Christ’s compassion, it is a story that began in darkness and ends in light. And while for most of us, the journey from darkness to light does not happen so quickly, certainly not in the midst of a funeral procession…it is the same journey we are all on.

The Psalms, my way out of talking about all of this, actually demonstrate it beautifully. Scholars have divided the 150 chapters of Psalm into 5 distinct books, beginning with book one and progressing to the conclusion with book 5. While each chapter and sometime the verses within each chapter transition from joy to lament and question to reconciliation – many argue that the book is not entirely random but was “purposefully shaped to tell a story.” Nancy deClaisse-Walford describes the full story of the Psalms as beginning with David’s reign in Book 1 where there are many individual cries or laments, continuing through divided monarch and destruction of the kingdoms in books 2 & 3 where you hear more communal laments, book 4 goes through the exile in Babylon and book 5 concludes the Psalm with the return from exile and rebuilding of the temple. As we follow this journey there is an emotional progression as well…a progression – much slower than the funeral procession in Nain’s – but a progression all the same from darkness to light. In book 1 psalms of lament dominate – well over half of the psalms are lamentations like Psalm 13:

How long O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I bear pain in my soul and have sorrow in my heard all day long?
how long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!

For it was a long wait…a long journey. The exile from beginning to end lasted 59 years…the book of Psalm spans not only the circumstances but the emotions from beginning to end…book 5 is the conclusion, a book of praise . Our passage this morning Chapter 146 is the beginning of the end of the book, that ends on a high note, the first of the final 5 chapters that all begin and end with the words: Praise the Lord!

That makes sense right, it is easy to praise the Lord at the end, once everything is resolved, once things are back to normal. But unlike the story in Luke, the book of Psalms gives us a clearer picture of the reality we know, things never go back to normal, the way it was before. As the people return to Jerusalem after almost 60 years in Babylon, there are new generations who never knew life in this place, it is not a return home to them, it is a move away from home. Relationships were made, there was struggle and pain and loss that does not end with the opportunity to rebuild. It takes something more, something deeper than going back - to move into that light - to rediscover or maybe discover for the first time what it is we all so desperately desire, happiness.

On a very simple level it seems that happiness is what Jesus offered the widow in Nain. When he saw her, he saw her grief, her torment, even her fear of what life would be for her now. For a woman with no husband and no male heir – she was not only alone but marginalized, sentenced to a life of poverty as she could not own anything herself. Jesus reacted, out of compassion, Luke tells us, and brings her son back to life. Luke doesn’t tell us of her reaction, but in that moment certainly she experienced happiness unlike any she had experienced before. Happiness.
This is something we all want. We seek it, pray for it – for ourselves and our children – it is the American dream right – the pursuit of happiness and yet more often then not Jesus does not walk into our funeral processions and raise the dead. So we have to ask: are our pursuits in vain? Is happiness attainable?

What we find in Psalm 146 is an insight, clues on happiness. But the Psalms are not written by a widow in Nain but from a people who have cried out in pain, from those who have lost lives and land and hopes and security.

Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord O my soul
I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God all my life long
Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God

Happy are those whose help, whose hope is in God…
The word translated happy is the Hebrew word ashre which comes from a verbal root that means “go, straight, advance, follow the track.” It is a bit different than the synonyms we would use for happy that would be more like joyous, worry-free, and glad. So maybe happy is a mistranslation or maybe this Psalm is trying to teach us something about what happiness really is. Maybe it is not a lifetime of sunshine and roses – because ultimately that doesn’t exist for anyone. The widow in Nain whose son was brought back to life also lost her husband, she too had experienced and had to endure the pain of loss. Maybe happiness is something different, maybe it has less to do with a state of being and more to do with an action. The Psalmist continues, letting us know a little bit more about the God that is to be praised…

Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD their God,
who made heaven and earth,
the sea, and all that is in them;
who keeps faith for ever;
who executes justice for the oppressed;
who gives food to the hungry.

The LORD sets the prisoners free;
the LORD opens the eyes of the blind.
The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down;
the LORD loves the righteous.
The LORD watches over the strangers;
he upholds the orphan and the widow,

Do you hear the action words…keeps faith, executes justice, gives food, sets prisoners free, opens eyes, lifts, loves, watches, upholds.

If we find our happiness in the help of such an active God, and happiness truly means to follow the track…then maybe happiness comes to us as we too are active…as we keep faith, as we execute justice for the oppressed, as we give food to the hungry, as we set prisoners free, open the eyes of the blind – who do not know God, do not know love, lift up those who are bowed down by addiction, by economic failure, by mental or physical illness, by regret – love and watch over strangers and uphold those that society has cast aside…

I have heard many people talk about the ways their lives have been transformed when they have come beside one who is suffering and showered them with love that the giver did not know that she or he had to give. Some might think that working with the sick or the poor helps to put things in perspective, saying “compared to them, my life isn’t that bad,” but I am not sure that does anyone any good. Instead, when we act as God acts, when we keep faith and give food and set free and open eyes and uplift and love we find meaning and hope in all the miracles that God can and does do. And sometimes those miracles take place through the work of our own hands. And when they do we are filled with something deeper than happiness, something lasting, something pure, something divine.

Now I don’t want you to think of these things as a check list…if I give food to someone who is hungry and I love my neighbor and watch out for a stranger then, then all of a sudden one morning I will wake up and be happy. But hear the psalmist…happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God. It is not either or but a both/and. We must lean into God, trust in God and ask God’s strength and courage and audacity to go, to follow the track of action to move closer to God’s light. The love of God is always with us but there are dark nights of every soul.

Remember I said over half of the Psalms from book one of Psalms is full of laments…this is true but that means that there are a good many praises that come in and among those laments as well. Even in the same chapter, chapter 13 that I read earlier that started out, “how long O Lord”…even though in hindsight we know the answer to David’s cry is too long…59 years…in that same chapter David says: I will sing to the Lord because he has dealt bountifully with me.
I will sing…in desperation and despair David will do, he will act, he will follow the track of God…he will sing.

Ultimately that is what Psalm 146, Luke 7, the entire book of Psalms, the church, and even life… is… a call to sing – to praise God – singing, giving, loving, upholding, opening eyes, setting free, lifting up and watching over. When we do, with a heart and a hope in God, we journey from darkness to light! There will be moments when like the grieving mother Christ gives us what we need to celebrate instantly and in that moment we must praise God but there will be other times that like David our hopes and dreams will be dashed and in that moment we must praise God. Praise God through our living and through our being and doing.

There are days when our pain is too great and we have no words to offer God in praise, on that day when we are desperate for happiness…put your hope in the Lord your God, follow the track of Jesus, and care for someone else. Turn your sadness, your pain into joy. Even if it is not your joy, but the joy of a hungry man receiving food or an oppressed woman receiving justice, or an outcast being welcomed – God’s light will shine brighter…

My mentor from the Bethany Fellowship group I am a part of has listened to me talk about our church, our grief, he has prayed with me and a few months ago he wrote me a note of encouragement and included Psalm 126

May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy
Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing shall come home with shouts of joy carrying their sheaves

In all pain, in all sadness God desires us to find joy, happiness in our creator. We all have the seeds to sow…in our journeys of struggle whether long or short, let us reap with shouts of joy.
This service follows that progression, we began with songs of sadness let us continue our worship, moving closer to light – to the joy, following the track, the path of God. Amen.

Waiting - Sermon Preached at Evergreen CC

*this is the sermon I preached at Evergreen Christian Church on May 16, 2010

Waiting
Acts 1:1-14
Evergreen Christian Church – May 16, 2010

It is so good to be here with you all this morning. Ron and I have met a couple of times and he asked me questions about Young Adult Ministry and about this new movement called Emergent Church and I think that is why I am here this morning to bring the word of God and talk a little about this population or generation that is missing – from this church and from many churches.
Being that next week is Pentecost, the day we celebrate the church’s birthday, it is important to recognize who will not be coming to that party. Our scripture for this morning is full of glory and confusion and movements and we’ll get to that but I want to start by looking at who is not there. In the passage directly after verse 14 Peter stands and recognizes the fact that there are no longer 12 disciples. Judas is gone – they are not a complete community. It was a bold move for Peter, bringing up the absence, the loss of his Christian community – this is not the first day or the first event Judas has been absent from and no one has mentioned it until now, it makes sense, Judas’ absence was the elephant in the room and yet no one wanted to name it, to bring attention to it because if they could just forget that there was always 12, that there was supposed to be 12 then it wouldn’t hurt to bad. This is the feeling of so many churches – someone is missing – and they have been missing for quite a while now. Churches have seen a generation of people leave after high school and fail to return to the church or never enter the church in the first place. We as church look around on a Sunday morning and feel the pain of the absence of young adults but we are afraid to say anything about it, to bring it up because maybe if we forget that our church has failed to meet the needs of those in their 20’s and 30’s we won’t be sad or feel guilty or be forced to realize that we are not whole. The disciples had been silent and the churches have been silent, but when Peter stands up and names the absence -- it is then that a new disciple – Mattias and soon countless new disciples enter into the fold. And so I celebrate with you that someone has stood up and named the absence of young adults and that you heard that person, whoever it was, and that you are intentionally preparing yourself to fill that void, to welcome new disciples into the fold of Evergreen Christian Church.

So that is the first step, right, recognizing that Young Adults are not here. It may sound obvious but I can’t tell you how many churches refuse to step into the reality that they are not complete, that someone is missing. They keep names on the membership roles of folks they haven’t seen in 10 years, they expect that once people have children they will come back…so they wait…and wait…and wait…and they don’t come back and no one visits and the church continues to shrink and to age.

I am talking in generalities and of course there are differences for every church and every context. And I am a visitor among you, I know a little about this church – I have worshipped here before, led a children’s program for you many years ago at your church retreat at La Foret but I do not know your whole story. What I do know, however, is that you are in a time of transition. Your Pastor retired, you are in the process of looking for a new pastor and with that comes uncertainty, evaluation, a lot of hope and equal amounts of fear as you look to the future. Basically, you are in the waiting place. You are waiting to see who the search committee will find, you are waiting for your new Pastor to arrive and then you are waiting to watch that new Pastor do new things, transform the church…just like you have been waiting for young adults to come or to come back or you have been waiting to watch the new things you have been doing (and I hear from Ron you are doing great new things like table meetings instead of committees and house church gatherings) you are waiting for these to take off, catch on or maybe you are waiting for them to fail. Either way you are in the waiting place.

The phrase, The Waiting Place, is not my own. It actually comes from a brilliant scholar, author and theologian…who many of you might know as Dr. Seuss. Oh the Places You Will Go is a very popular book especially this time of year – I imagine it is one of the top 10 gifts given to high school graduates, when I graduated from high school I ended up with two copies, my husband – three! But in the middle of this book, Dr. Seuss talks about the waiting place…let me share a little of this story with you but as I do, I want you to think about your church – and what you are waiting for and how you are waiting (and what is a Dr. Seuss book without pictures):

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And if you go in, should you turn left or right…or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple its not, I’m afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come or a plane to go or the mail to come or the rain to go or the phone to ring or the snow to snow or wating around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants, or a wig with curls or Another Chance…

According to Dr. Seuss the waiting place is useless. We hate waiting, and yet the average person spends somewhere between 3-5 years of his or her life -- waiting. That is a big chunk of our lives so we try to do anything and everything to avoid it. We have speedy check out lanes at the grocery store, when you are put on hold with a company they now will call you back so you don’t have to wait, even Disneyland now has fastpass so you don’t have to wait in line to go on the most popular rides. We hate waiting, and yet all the ways we try to get out of waiting are just the easy way out…but what if we thought about waiting less as useless and more as process.
This past week my niece was born. She was 11 days late. So we spent a lot of time waiting. Everyday I would call my sister-in-law and she would tell me – no change. The doctor had offered to end the waiting – to induce as soon as her due date came but they decided to the best of their ability to wait for McKenna to come on her own. And in those days of waiting, they tried to rest, they played a lot, they dreamed and worried of course, they prayed for the little one, they received words of encouragement everyday (sometimes more than once a day from some annoying family members – well me!) and they took a deep breath before their worlds were changed forever. What they found was meaning and value in the waiting place. But the baby still didn’t come. And the waiting began to pose a threat to not only my sister but the baby as well. So they intervened and she was induced and delivered...

For young adults waiting is a part of life. Some are waiting for babies, some are waiting for their parents to stop asking them when they will have babies. Young adults wait to start a family and then they wait to get pregnant, wait for the baby to come or wait for the adoption process to proceed. Young Adults are waiting to finish school, waiting to stop waiting tables, waiting to get a job and once they have a good job they wait to get a better one. They are waiting to feel like an adult, waiting to be treated like an adult, waiting to be taken seriously in their families, in their work, in the church. Waiting to have the money to buy a house, or waiting for the next pay check to pay the rent. They are waiting to meet the right person, waiting to move -- again, waiting to make friends in new communities, waiting to have a sense of home away from home, waiting to travel, waiting to stay put and waiting to go.

They wait and wait and wait some more – and no matter what they do they cannot stop waiting, it is a natural part of all of life and particularly for the stage of life they find themselves…but it is not a lazy or inactive waiting…they are working and moving and changing and transforming and dreaming and hoping and listening and loving while they wait – and what many young adults yearn for in this time is a place, a community, rituals that help that bring out the meaning, the spirit that is very present within the waiting places.

Let me remind you of a familiar story of a group of young adults, young adults who were waiting. They had seen things and done things they didn’t know possible, they were excited and hopeful about what the world could be and how they could be a part of it and yet they were scared out of their minds. Afraid they were being as young and niave as theire parents told them they were. Petrified that they weren’t equipped – smart enough, gifted enough, kind enough, dedicated enough to do the work left for them to do. Their experience and their hearts and their guts told them they were on the right path but it wasn’t a fast pass…they had to wait…but they didn’t sit still – they recognized what they were missing, they made changes, they prayed – while they waited.

The disciples waited: These men and women who were young adults – whose leader had been only 33 years old. Like many groupings of young adults today this group had come from different places, different walks of life, many were in the family business for awhile, some had less than respectable pasts but then each of them heard the call to do something different so they followed this man, named Jesus, they followed him all the way to the cross and then in their loss and confusion they stumbled upon the empty tomb and now Jesus has left again…this time not in the violence of the crucifixion but in the glory of the ascension. Jesus rose to heaven with the promise that the spirit would come among them, not today, not even tomorrow but soon. At first the disciples just stand there, after Jesus has disappeared into the clouds they stand there looking back on what was. Just like the church when we stand still, when we gaze on yearbooks past and remember who we used to be, how the pews were filled, and energy abounded…in the same way the disciples stopped and stared. But then a man in white stood beside them and said, what are you looking at? Jesus is gone – what you knew is gone – but there is a promise of more to come. So get on with it.

We see in that moment the danger of waiting. The disciples did not know how to move. Jesus was gone and the spirit had not yet come so they stopped – they maintained, they kept breathing and blinking and doing the necessary things for survival but in that moment their waiting had no purpose, it threatened to destroy everything they had done and everything they could do. The same thing happens in the church, we wait for people to return, we wait for young adults to come and visit and then to join – and like the disciples we just stand still – we maintain and forget what we have seen and what we are called to do.

The disciples waited for 10 days…and in that time they stayed together – the 11 disciples and some women. The disciples were able to rest with one another, to be supported by one another, to share their stories of Christ, to be comforted and to be challenged, to pray, to be still, to be honest about their fears and skeptical about their hopes. Because even in that time of waiting there is a purpose and there is a call. For Young Adults it is about self discovery and relationships and transformations that begin with transitions – for the church it is a time of reflection, figuring out who you are, asking hard questions, listening to those not only in your community but those who are outside of your community. Waiting on the spirit is not a time to rest – but a time of activity, of evaluation, of honesty, of hope and community.

And so those young adults so many years ago – those young adults who didn’t fit in with the religious structures of the day…according to acts – contantly devoted themselves to prayer…
The young adult disciples, the young adults of evergreen and all of us, need a space to find a place of community, a place that embraces active waiting, a place that not only finds but helps us create meaning in the waiting…a place of prayer. Not just sit down, bow your head kind of prayer, but prayer that you live and you breathe. Contemplative prayer in its many forms is a growing young adult led movement in places like Taize, France and in the forms of Emergent Churches here and in Europe…young adults are asking for communities to gather to simply and profoundly wait together constantly devote themselves to prayer: sometimes this is in silence, sometimes it is building a house, sometimes holding hands and sometimes singing, sometimes laughing. They are seeking the space to live into the mystery and unknown of this world and of their lives -- a place to worth waiting in.

But this isn’t new, contemplative prayer and prayer practices like walking a labyrinth or meditative and repetitive song and words are some of the oldest Christian traditions. Young adults want to enter into the story of their tradition – to share in the community’s stories of Christ, they want to know and to share in the ways Christ has been experienced and then to sit together to pray and to ponder, AND to do and to give – entering into the story of God not when they are 45, not when they have finished raising their family, not when they have enough money to tithe 10% but now. No more waiting in vain – instead, waiting in the spirit. Let us work while we wait. Let us pray while we wait. Let us find the meaning and the call of God together as we wait to not only see and experience what God will do, but to be a part of all that God is doing with us and through us.

So Evergreen Christian Church – You, like so many, are waiting. The question is not necessarily what are you waiting for, but how will you wait?
How will you wait not on the spirit but in the spirit?
Let us learn from the young adults that started this movement, without money or homes or children…they gathered in community and shared their experiences of Christ…and they constantly devoted themselves to prayer. Amen.

Harmony

Harmony
February 7, 2010
I Corinthians 12:12-26

I am sick of it. I am sick of all the fighting, all the bickering, all the hostility and hate.

Sometimes I feel as though that is all that is left of the world. Division, discension, tension. It is ridiculous. I want to say it is childish but children are way smarter than this.

Last week I watched the state of the union address and while the President was speaking every 8 seconds or so half of the audience would stand up and clap while the other half grumbled and booed. And then the president would say something else and the other half of the audience would stand up and the president’s own party had their own time of grumbling. And that was nothing compared to the media madness that began the moment President Obama spoke those last words, God bless America, instantly Republicans had this to say and Democrats were arguing with the Republicans and on and on and on. And I am sick of it.

Are you? I am sick of us thinking the right way to do things is to fight about everything, to be disrespectful, to work against each other and not with one another. Now I am not so naïve as to believe that there are not real problems in our country or that everyone is ultimately just saying the same thing. No there are real differences of opinions that cannot be minimized and that is good right we shouldn’t all agree, that is how we hold each other accountable…but the way that we do it, its not ok.

And it isn’t just politics. We are a divided people. We divide over football…who is cheering for the Colts this afternoon? Ok, who is cheering for the Saints? Since we are pretty indifferent to both teams there might not be too much tension but imagine if the Bronco’s and Raiders or Broncos and Chiefs were playing each other in a huge game like this…it would not be pretty. And its not all in good fun. I’ve been to Bronco/Raider games there is real anger – people are truly divided and hostile about it.

And those of us who know better, we really don’t. Religious division is probably the most dangerous this world knows. And not only between different religions, the fighting between Christians has killed too many and scarred even more in Ireland and even here, in our own country we divide…not just Catholics and Protestants but Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Pentecostals, Baptists – American Baptists, and Southern Baptists, United Church of Christ, Church of Christ…Disciples of Christ.

As I was teaching our new members class I was telling them about the history of our church. The founders of our movement, Barton W. Stone and Thomas and Alexander Campbell were sick of it too. Over 175 years ago they too were in a world where division was the norm, politically, economically, socially and religiously. These men, Stone especially was mad, fed up with the way the church defied the biblical mandate of unity heard from the Psalms, the gospels, and in many letters from the Apostle Paul. Stone saw the division created by creeds – a statement that everyone must agree to word for word to uphold fellowship in the church and be welcomed to the Lord’s Table. The Campbell’s were more upset by the divisions of denominationalism and within denominations that prohibited believing Christians from sharing communion together. These men, and their movements were both looking for unity. They chose names that sought to unite instead of divide: Christians for Stone and Disciples for the Campbells. It was only when they chose to fully live into their beliefs and to unify, followed by nearly a century of discussion on the name, that we became the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). What is important for us to hear is that our church was created on the ground, the basis, the foundation of unity. Unity is at the very heart of who we are as Christians, as Disciples, as members of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). But I think this history, this core to who we are as church has been forgotten. In too many ways we have become exactly what we were created against – we as a church appear to be one more line – one more division in the body of Christ. And on some level it is true because we are not perfect: The union between Stone’s Christians and Campbell’s Disciples in some ways has led to more of the same. Our church split in the late 1800’s over the use of an organ and you can go to down the road to the Church of Christ – who shares the same history that we do and hear no instrumental music and some other big differences like no women speaking during worship or serving as Pastor, Elder or Deacon. We are not perfect, no one is, but what is important to realize is that for us, for our church, division is not an easy way out of conflict…division is sin.

Division is sin, not because our church founders didn’t like it or like me were sick of all the fighting, they believed, I believed and our church was built on the understanding that through scripture we are called to be united, we are called to be one.

In the first verse of Psalm 133 we hear:
How very good and pleasant it is
when kindred live together in unity!
In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that we studied last summer we hear:

therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

There is a whole sermon there, maybe more than one – but hear those words: humility, gentleness, patience, bearing with, effort…it takes all of this to maintain unity and peace.

Paul goes a little deeper in his letter to the Colossians. He tells us what that effort is…how it is we uphold unity in the bond of peace, in chapter 3 he writes:

13Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. 14Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. 15And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful.

Forgive and be forgiven
Be thankful
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts
Clothe yourselves with love which binds everything together in perfect harmony.
…perfect harmony…
There is something there we must not miss. Perfect harmony.

When we talk about unity, some people think the way to unity is to get everyone to think or speak or act or look exactly the same. Unity as sameness as homogenous. And there are even scritpures that seem to support this. Often 1 Corinthians 1:10 is used to support such an argument where Paul writes:

10 Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you should be in agreement and that there should be no divisions among you, but that you should be united in the same mind and the same purpose.

But these words must be held in context. There are divisions in the church at Corinth which Paul goes on to talk about. Paul tells us some are saying I belong to Paul, I belong to Apollos (another diety known at the time) and some say I belong to Christ. They are not arguing over theological semantics but over the core of their faith, do we follow Christ, put Christ first, or someone or something else. This is the fundamental principle of a community of faith. No creed but Christ we say in the Disciples.

Furthermore we must hear this verse in the context of all of I Corinthians of which today’s scripture comes as well.

The body and its many parts…as we read in verse 12:

12 For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.

All the members must work, more than that were created to work together as one, one body and cannot be separated. Just as Paul says:

If the foot were to say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body’, that would not make it any less a part of the body. 16And if the ear were to say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body’, that would not make it any less a part of the body.

There can be dissent, I do not belong to the body but there is still a oneness about it, inherent within the body and inherent within the body of Christ. And yet nothing works if all the members do not live into their unity. If the eye refuses to observe the gifts of the ear, if the foot refuses to move with the leg…the body cannot move, cannot function, cannot thrive.

Remember again those words from Colossians…perfect harmony. The body must move and work in harmony, not in melody, not in sameness but in harmony. Harmony, as any musician will tell you, is not so simple as everyone singing the same notes – it is complex, it requires diversity but the most amazing thing is that the more diversity there is, the more voices that sing different notes the more beautiful the sound.

I was surprised to find that unity is a synonymn for harmony because it seems like a new idea. Too often we hear the words of I Corinthians one and we think that we all must be the same to have unity, we all have to have the same ideas, we all have to agree in order for there to be peace, to unify – and yet that is not true, it is has never been true. The unity that the scriptures call us to, the unity that Barton Stone and Thomas and Alexander Campbell wanted, needed, demanded of their church is a harmonious unity – unity in diversity.

Unity that allows for disagreement. This is essential to who we are – Campbell and Stone did not agree on everything when they founded a church together, actually they disagreed on quite a bit. They were very different one highly educated immigrant family the other Kentucky born and educated. The two did not always share kind words, nor did they find consensus on theological principles but they both believed that the body of Christ was created to be unified and so through the elements laid out by Paul: patience, love, forgiveness, humility and occasional gentleness they came together as one.

This is the story of our church. These are the roots of our faith and our calling. Harmony. Unity in diversity.

You know there are a lot of churches in this town, in this county. 24 in Fort Morgan alone! And so we have to ask ourselves, what makes us different. What is it that First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) can offer to our community? And on a larger scale, what is it that the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) can offer to our nation or our world? Are we just one more line of division or do we have a purpose, a calling?

I believe we do, in the lives of individuals, here in Morgan County, in Colorado, in our nation and our world. We are a people of unity. We are the people that go to a church where we do not agree on everything. We sit next to people who vote differently than we do. We study the scriptures with people who interpret differently and maybe even contradictory than we do. We have the freedom, we even celebrate that we have the freedom to disagree with each other because at the end of the day or the end of the argument we remember that we need each other. We, in the Christian Church know the good news that unity is not sameness, harmony – unity – the body of Christ only works when we hear the voice of others, when we have the patience and the humility and the love and the gentleness and forgiveness to come together around a table and share a meal of love and sacrifice and hope and peace. Imagine what would happen if the most anxious and hostile Colts fans sat and ate a meal with the most anxious and hostile Saints fans and they practiced humility and gentleness and patience and love…no one would go home a loser this afternoon. And that is just a game…

What if religious leaders, the leaders of our country and the leaders of our world…pursued unity. What if they worked together for peace, what if they had patience and gentleness and humility along with determination and persistence that leadership requires. What if unity wasn’t a soundbite but a commitment – what if we really treated the divisions of our world as sin? What if those who seek to create divisions that stand on whatever suits them, whether that be left and right and north and south were seen for what they are, self-interested…

We have a message for our world. Diversity does not equal division. Harmony is a gift from God. It is a calling from God and it is not easy, but it is worth it.
Amen.

You Raise Me Up

You Raise Me Up
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
January 10, 2010

The scripture I just read tells us, from Luke’s perspective about the baptism of Jesus. We are now in the season of Epiphany, a word we use more often in common communication than in the church. When we have an epiphany we see things more clearly or the truth we were looking for has been revealed to us. So on this first Sunday of Epiphany we celebrate that Jesus too had an epiphany in the process of his baptism.

Do you all remember your baptism? Did you have an epiphany as you fell into the waters, symbolically dying with Christ?
Did you have an epiphany in that brief moment that you were under water…submerged in God’s love, your sin washed away?
Did you have an epiphany as you rose out of the waters, rising as Christ did on that third day, rising to new life – ready to live differently, love more fully and baring the mark of Christ as one holy baptized
Of did you have an epiphany in the next moments, when you stood before the gathered community and together lifted your voices to God in prayer?
Maybe one of these pieces of your baptism was the climax for you or maybe you rmemeber it as a whole and the epiphany came in pieces as you fell, rose and prayed…

There are after all many different kinds of epiphanies...I wonder what Zacc Winn’s epiphany was last Easter as I accompanied him in his baptism, remember those who were baptized last easter, Courtney, Kelly, Cassie, Alec and Zacc were the first people I have ever had the honor of baptizing, and Zacc was a bit taller than the rest if you were here you recall I had a minor slip of my foot to help lower him into the water and the whole congregation gasped…I wonder if in that moment Zacc’s epiphany was “she’s gonna drop me!”

Even if that was the case, I trust God took care of the rest.

But there is something important that we can all learn from my little foot-slip…an epiphany for all us…baptism isn’t about a in and out of the water ritual – baptism is first about the individual and God and second about the individual, God and the community.
Obviously baptism is about our relationship with God, by making the choice to be baptized we are saying yes to God’s love and yes to God’s call to love others. In the Disciples since we practice believers baptism, we do not look at baptism as The beginning but God is loving us long before we take the pastor’s class and Easter Sunday rolls around. And yet it is a beginning, the beginning of a new life, a life we have chosen, a life of intention and hope. When we fall into the waters of baptism we put our very life in the hands—not of a sometimes clumsy pastor—but in the hands of God.

As amazing as that is, baptism is more than that. Because we do let sometimes clumsy pastors lower us into the water, we do stand before the congregation, confess our faith, fall and rise out of the water…Baptism is also a beginning in community.
You all gasped in concern when Zacc was baptized because we were all together, certainly you were recalling your own baptism and anxiously awaiting the opportunity to welcome Zacc into our community of faith. In the next moment I know many of you thought, we will remember that – with Zacc – for many years to come. When we rise out of the water, we rise to a family of faith, a community that cares, that challenges, that journeys with us as we journey with Christ.

This is an important point that I think is often forgotten. Earlier this week I was at a meeting of the Outdoor Ministries Committee for our region. We had to discuss the region’s baptismal policy. It seems strange that we would need a policy about baptism, but a few years ago, many youth, after a life-changign week of church camp, felt called to be baptized and a few baptisms took place in the camp swimming pool. It was decided that although we are humbled that these youth experienced the transformative love and call of Christ during camp that a temporary setting such as camp is not the place to be baptized. Now if a child or youth says they want to be baptized, we celebrate that, we call their parents and their pastor and schedule a date and invite the rest of the campers to go to witness the wonderful event – that takes place in their home congregation…in their community of faith that gathers together weekly, that will be their to answer questions, to love, to teach compassion and to provide opportunities for service. Baptism is about your relationship with God, but it is also about the community of faith that you are baptized into, the community that will sustain you – remind you of your choice, of God’s live – and when you fall…that will raise you up.

As I studied this text this week and read what others had said or questioned about Jesus baptism, again and again I found folks asking: why was Jesus baptized? If Jesus was perfect, blameless, God incarnate, why did he need to be washed clean, to fall and rise out of the water? It is a good question and I think Luke gives us some hints at that.
Reading Matthew or Mark, the other two gospels that give the story of Jesus baptism, I picture Jesus and John out in the middle of the Jordan River with no one near them, maybe a crowd of onlookers on the shore…but they are hushed by the power of this holy moment as Jesus falls into the water, is raised and then the heavens open, the spirit descends and God speaks. But in Luke, it’s a little different. Here is what he tells us about that sacred moment of Jesus in the water:
Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized
He gives us no high holy moment. It seems from this half of a verse that Jesus just took his place in the line, number 46 out of 80 folks, he waded out into the water a little while the guy who had been standing in line in front of him was baptized, Jesus walks out, he falls, he is raised and he exits stage left and the next candidate approaches for baptism. What a let down, right? Maybe not. Maybe this is the answer or at least an answer to the question, why was Jesus baptized? To become a part of the community, he stood in line, he fell into the waters, placed his life in the hands of John who had baptized so many others, and he rose to a new beginning – to a family of faith. It makes sense, this was the beginning of Jesus ministry, we haven’t heard from him since he was 12 years old, but now he has come to find a community, to be baptized with them and then to seek God with them. Those who stood in the river with him, it was to those people that Jesus began preaching and teaching…as he says later in his ministry:
For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother." (Matthew 12:50)
I hear in this passage and I see in his baptism that Jesus needed a community nto only to have an audience for his message, but because he needed it. He was human, he needed family – support – those who would encourage him, challenge him and journey with him. I know it seems strange to think that Jesus “needed” anything – but would he truly be human if he didn’t need the care of a community around him? I don’t think so. You see we are created in the image of God and in this account of Jesus’ baptism, we learn something about Christ, we learn something about ourselves—I’ll get to that – be we also learn something about God. Because the story does not end with Jesus being baptized with all the people…Luke tells us that later…when Jesus was praying…then…the heavens opened, the spirit descended in bodily form like a dove and a voice from heaven spoke the words…
"You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
Remember I said, baptism is about two things you and God number 1 and you and God and community. This moment, this statement is between Jesus and God. Because it happened when he was praying, this gospel unlike Matthew and Mark leaves the question…did others hear this or was this just between Jesus and his parent?
"You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
The human Jesus was baptized with all the people because he needed a community to raise him up, to support him, walk with him as he carried out his call…and…Jesus was baptized because he too needed to fall back into the hands of God, allow water to cover his body and to trust that God would raise him up. Really Jesus fell into God’s hands trustign that God would raise him out of the waters, trusting that God would give him the wisdom and courage to preach, heal, forgive, and question, and trusting that God would raise him up out of death to new life…
And God in the big booming voice, or at least that’s how I imagine it, gives Jesus a parental pat on the head…I’m proud of you, son. I love you.
What does it say about Christ, what does it say about God to know that that was exactly what Jesus, king of kings, emmanuel, the prince of peace, the one who walked on water, who raised Lazareth from the dead, who himself faced death and rose again…what does it mean that this awesome man needed to hear those words…you are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased…?
It means that God, that Christ, that the spirit – the holy trinity is relational…God needs love, care affirmation – Christ needed that and the community of faith IN ORDER to carry out his calling.
I believe many might disagree with that statement, many might say, “no, God can do anything” which is right and biblical so some would conclude God doesn’t “need” anything to do God’s work…but if God’s nature is relational then that essence is essential to God’s being and God’s work.
Don’t we know this, if we are created in the image of God, doesn’t part of that or maybe all of that have to do with love – how we treat one another, how we care for the stranger, respect our elders, treasure our children, struggle and celebrate in the community of faith?
My message to you today is simple and yet when we allow the reality of it to surround us…it is profound.
We are baptized for the same reasons Jesus was.
We cannot do this alone. We were not created to journey toward God alone. We need each other, look behind you and in front of you and beside you and realize the ways that those in this community have moved you closer to God. And if you can’t think of anyone or anyway…then that is because you haven’t truly fallen back trusting in the hand of God and the hands of this community to raise you up when you fall.
And we do fall, or stumble or trip or slip in the baptismal but God is there and your community is there to raise you up…
But even those times when everything is great, when life has handed you lemonade and you didn’t even have to bother with the lemons…when you feel God’s power and spirit and love…know that even then you are beign raised up…
This song was played at Betty Cromwell’s funeral on Wed at the request of her grandmother. As I spent time this week with this text…I heard God’s message through this song…
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.
This is a song about community…
This is a song about God

Zechariah's Song

Zechariah’s Story
Luke 1: 5-24, 57-79

I want to tell you a story. Its not my story it is Zechariah’s story. Here it is…in his words…

Have you ever experienced something so hard and so amazing, something so unexpected so brilliant, so painful, so transformative that all you could do at the end of the day is sing?
I have. And I know it sounds crazy – I’m not really the singing type – but after what I went through there was a song within me – a song of praise, a song of hope a song of peace.

As a baby was growing within my wife Elizabeth, that song grew within me for nine months…it was created, it was nourished and it evolved and changed shape and size, I felt it growing, I felt it getting stronger and pushing me from within…so much so that it hurt. I knew it was a song that had to be sung but it wasn’t as easy as opening my mouth. There was pain, real pain, and terrible fear not only of the song but of what the song meant for my life. What it would change, what it would demand of me, how it would make me so vulnerable and yet so strong…

You see it all began on an ordinary day. I know, people always start that way, but its true. I am not one of those guys who led a rebellious life of sin or intrigue…I have always been a man of faith. Like many of you, I imagine. I thought I was living a pretty good life, a faithful life. I loved God, I am a priest- I committed my life to God and it was even written about me and my wife Elizabeth that we were and I quote

righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord (Luke 1:6)

Which basically meant that in our daily lives, we crossed our T’s we dotted our I’s – we paid our bills on time, we were always at worship, we stood, we sung the songs - Elizabeth did I just mouthed the words, we said the prayers, we gave our tithe…we followed the rules. We had a pretty good life. Mostly. We had never been able to have a child…and we didn’t understand and we got angry at each other and at God and at ourselves. We had prayed for a baby as do probably all families who struggle this way. But as we grew older, we had grown used to the reality. I say that because we hadn’t found peace with it. Well I hadn’t. It was a big deal to “carry on the name” …and while my daily life was lived righteous and blameless…much of it was just habit because deep down there wasn’t much that was right. I was mad at God and at Elizabeth and myself too. Elizabeth and I had spent years praying for a child and nothing. And as I looked at the world I saw more nothing…as I called it, you might say unanswered prayers. The Roman government was strong and cruel, and while things were better for us than they had been for our ancestors who were exiled to Babylon – the Romans let us practice our faith and culture – the taxes they imposed were so steep that farmers and the poor were struggling to survive and the tax collectors would often make threats and take more than the government required. One day I really let one of them have it, I told a tax collector he was evil, a sinner through and through and there was no place in the house of God for one like him. There was corruption everywhere and I was powerless to do anything about it. I might have been blameless and righteous in my living but that is only because I took all of my anger, my frustration, my blame, hopelessness, and fear and allowed them to take up residence in my heart, and my spirit.

Work was frustrating too. Don’t get me wrong I took great joy in serving God through the rituals and instructions of our law, but there were many priests and I was just a number…in the priesthood there were a few rare opportunities to enter into the sacred places of the temple – where you can truly serve God by offering a ritual on behalf of many others. I think opportunities like this were the reason, besides family pressure of course, that I entered into the priesthood.

There were 24 groups of priests and each group rotated through temple duty. We worked for one full week, twice a year. It was time for my group’s duty. Part of the priesthood’s responsibility is to offer sacrifices twice day, then to clear the ashes from the alter. A sacrifice was offered on both the outer alter and the inner alter. The inner alter was in the sanctuary – one lone priest offered the sacrifice and burnt the incense in there in the presence of God. Because there were so many of us and because it was such an awesome privilege to enter into the sanctuary to offer a sacrifice – we kept a list of those priests who had yet to enter in. Year after year, my name had remained on that list. We threw lots to determine who would enter, and without a doubt I’d lose. I’d watched my mentors enter, I’d watched friends enter, I’d even seen those who I had mentored enter in to stand in the presence and offer up a sacrifice to God, while I waited outside. I so longed to be in the presence of God but the years passed and my day had never come. A few of the other priests suggested that I hadn't been chosen because I wouldn't sing. Often readings were sung, by a group of men along with the orchestra and while I did all my responsibilities faithfully, singing was not for me, and who knows maybe they were right. Maybe that was why at my old age, after my lifetime of service I had not had the honor of offering a sacrifice to God. It just felt so ingenuous, singing – putting contrived notes to holy words…it sounded better, the music affected people on a deeper level but who was I to sing the notes of God? Maybe it was because I was childless, maybe because I felt God overlooked me – I just couldn’t bring myself to sing.

But then it happened. I threw the lots and it was my turn to enter the sanctuary. It was truly the most sacred moment of my ministry-of my life-as I walked past the others…a large group stood outside praying as I entered in. The job was pretty routine, make a fire here, remove ashes, kneeling and prostrating on the ground…ordinary job but extraordinary experience of humility and joy and purpose! But then something wasn’t right. On the right side of the alter of incense, someone else was there! At first I was furious, this was to be my holy time with God-only one priest enters into the sanctuary to offer the sacrifice. I quickly realized, however, that it wasn’t another priest, I can’t describe it really it was like nothing I had ever seen before, I was so frightened, my mind and body were overwhelmed with fear. But then he spoke,

“Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard.

My prayer, what prayer? The prayer to be in the sanctuary,thanks I know.

Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John.

Elizabeth, my Elizabeth, she’s too old, we’re too old.

14You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, 15for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. 16He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. 17With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”

…To make ready a people prepared for the Lord…Wow… I was trying to process it all, but it didn’t make any sense. Was I hallucinating? This couldn’t be happening. We will never have a child. God hasn’t heard our prayers, God doesn’t care. God just wants us to follow the laws or else, right? If God cared, why would people live in fear of violence, why would there be wars, why would our people have been exiled, why would we have ever been in slavery…this has got to be some kind of a joke, besides we’re old…its too late…someone is playing a trick on me…

“How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.”

That didn’t seem to go over very well,

“I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. 20But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”

And everything went…silent…

I could no longer hear the crowds outside, I tried to recant my question to Gabriel, to say, “no I didn’t mean it, sure that’s great, a son!” but I couldn’t speak and he then he was gone. I sat in the sanctuary for a long while…alone…I tried to yell, I tried to whisper, I cleared my throat, I coughed and tried again…silence. Finally, I went outside where it was clear the crowd had grown anxious at my delay. I tried a little charades and they seemed to understand something amazing had happened but I wasn’t even sure of that… Can it be true? Do I want it to be true? But this was no dream, I couldn’t speak, I could barely hear. When the week was over I went home and Elizabeth and I conceived a child, a miracle, I was so full of love and joy but I couldn’t tell her that I loved her. I was so thankful that our prayers had been answered but I couldn’t shout my thanksgiving to God for this gift. I remained silent.

All I could hear were Gabriel’s words, his promise of a boy to be called John…but also of the task set out for this child: turning the people of Israel to God, turning the hearts of parents to their children, the disobedient to wisdom…and to go before and make ready a people
John. My son, John, He will go before him…he will make ready a people prepared for the Lord.
I spent my silence wondering what it all meant. Prepare the way of the Lord, if the Lord is coming how should a people be made ready? This was an impossible task…the world was so corrupt, how could John make ready the way for the Lord? Since I could not speak and could barely hear I watched people, I saw the way they treated each other. When you watch people but cannot hear them you see their true intentions, emotions. And what I saw disgusted me: I saw lies and sin and deception, I witnessed power struggles and hostility that led to violence, I looked deeply into the eyes of the corrupt – the governments tax collectors and even those in the priesthood who were there for their glory not for God. There was so much that was wrong with the world, so much to point a finger at, so much to disapprove to classify or judge as sin. I was a voice of reason but God had taken my voice. I couldn’t tell anyone to shape up, I couldn’t tattle on the disingenuous priests, I couldn’t make opposing sides understand where the other was coming from…I watched hope crumble into fear, fear build into anger and anger manifested in violence. The world was dark, there was sin and death everywhere…A moment of hope was trampled by my own fear and judgments –I was consumed with the fighting and conflict, the power-seeking, hoarding and greed…how could this people ever be ready for God. They don’t care about God – they just want what is best for themselves…a people prepared for God is a people of peace. But we’ll never get there. Everyone is too full of complaints and upholding the status quo to work for something different, something better…

They complain about the world but then they act in just the same way. Speaking harsh words, judging, taking power, fighting…

…Silence…
And I remembered the day I yelled at the tax collector.

…Silence…

I felt the anger I had towards those with many children in all our years of having none

…silence…

I saw how my judgments of others kept me from seeing them as children of God

…silence…

…and I realized in my silence that something was changing inside of me. I didn’t have the words, which was fine because I couldn’t speak them anyway…but everytime I thought of John…when I heard Gabriel’s words, when I imagined the way John was preparing…I felt a stillness…a calm…I guess you could say a glimpse of peace…and I remembered the scripture from the prophet Malachi…

See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. 2But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?

For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap; 3he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness

Is this messenger my son? A refiner’s fire – refining the people like gold and silver…I don’t know too much about refining metal but I have heard before that the difference between refining precious metals and some other processes is that when you refine silver in fire – nothing changes…the make-up of the metal stays the same – it is simply purified, the way God created it.

There have been days that I have tried so hard to speak, I have yelled and screamed and wept until my throat and my spirit were burning in pain and despair first from what I saw in the world but then as the silence drug on, by what I saw I myself. It has been painful, especially when I realized the darkness of the world can also be found within me. But as Elizabeth’s stomach continued to swell it was like there was a candle lit within me, bringing light into the darkness…but it was still a flame, I felt it burning but instead of screaming out in pain, my silence led me deep into prayer, fervently seeking God like a deer for water…

And I found something…a word, a tune, it sounded like…well it sounded like peace –

When I see the conflict of the world whether in my home, my place of worship or my community, I cannot simply expect peace or even with for peace – to truly pray for peace I have to live in peace. How can I expect my son to create the way for the Lord, to create a way of peace if I am conflicted? No, you see his work, his partnership with God has already begun…the refining fire of love has led me to peace – within myself. For that is where it begins. I cannot expect the tax collectors to act mercifully if I do not grant them mercy. This child that is coming has led me into the fire…not so that I would be changed into something different but so that I would be my best self…the Zechariah that God created me to be.

The day came and Elizabeth gave birth to our child. I have felt so much during my silence…confusion, anger, lonliness, fear, anxiety, frustration…but when I saw his face for the first time there was something new within me, something whole. I saw God…not just in the face of this child, but everywhere…in people – family and friends yes, but also in strangers, Romans, Jews, young and old…I saw them all as children of God, like John, this holy child of God.

That night I prayed, still silently, but in my heart I asked God to forgive me. To forgive me for my selfishness, to forgive me for my anger, to forgive me for my closed mindedness…and as I thanked God for answering my prayers, I made one more request…help me to remain, to abide here – in this place…grant me peace God so that I may accompany my child as he prepares the way for you.

Eight days later, Elizabeth and I took John to be circumcised. Most of our family was there and they were all talking about naming him Zechariah after me, Elizabeth tried to tell them his name was John but no one listened to her. I got so mad, it was like all these months of silence had built up within me and I was ready to explode. Don’t you understand? Why can’t you see what God is doing here? You are all wrong! And in that moment God answered yet another prayer…and in the faces of those who were being rude, in the eyes of those who wouldn’t listen…there was God, and I loved them, because they are God’s children and I knew that it was these…the not-perfect folks, to whom my peace must be offered. I took a deep breath, I said, God grant me peace in my silence and I wrote down these words…

His name is John

And in that moment my mouth was opened, I could speak and I could hear…I’m sure you are wondering what the first thing was that I said. Well, I didn’t curse the angel for 9 months of silence, I didn’t cheer, I didn’t say, “I’m glad that is over.” The words that came out of my mouth were my words, they were the words that were left from the refiners fire…but I couldn’t even say them…in joy – in humility my voice did something it had never been able to do…it sang. That song, well…some called it a song of praise, others called it a prophesy...whatever it was it was my song of joy, my song of hope…my song of peace…

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them. 69He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, 70as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old, 71that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us. 72Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, 73the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us 74that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, 75in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.

And then I turned to John and looking at him my joy wasn’t that he was my child but that he was God’s child and I thought about what he had done for me. I had denied that this moment would happen, and for that I fell into silence and began a journey from darkness to light…I watched this life come to be within Elizabeth and I came to know God, I sought forgiveness and I moved toward peace. And if he could do that for me before he was even born…he must be this messenger…and I continued my song…

76And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, 77to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. 78By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, 79to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Maybe you think my story is old and has little to do with you, but I wrote it down because John’s work is not done. He followed his call:

“proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3)

For this is the way to peace – this is the way we prepare for the coming of the Lord. Just as I discovered in my silence…God guided me through pain and struggle, through honesty and doubt, through fear and anxiety, judgment of others and ultimately judgment of myself…and in silence, in darkness I found the way to peace. It was always there…within me…and now that I have survived the refiner’s fire…I join John and his cousin Jesus and all those who are preparing the way for God on earth…guiding my feet, guiding our world and singing our way to peace.

-Rev. Selena A. Wright