Quiet down, open up , get found and follow Me. Epiphany 2 January 18 2015

I’m here. Speak, your servant is listening
You have searched me out and known me (examined me. And know me)
Follow Me…Come and See
These are three of the most beautiful sentiments in scripture and we have heard all of them today!
The prophet Samuel’s birth was another one of those “miracle” births. Much like Sarah before her and Elizabeth after, Hannah, Samuel’s mother, could not conceive. A woman of great faith, Hannah promised God that if she conceived, she would dedicate the child to God. So, once she gives birth to Samuel, he’s presented to the old priest Eli. From that day forward, Samuel lived within the temple walls…as one commentator puts it…”as a permanent altar boy.” This background is important to understanding the the scene we read today because if anyone should recognize God’s voice, it’s Samuel; yet this 13 year old boy, who worshipped day and night at the side of Eli, didn’t recognize God’s voice when God spoke to him. Three times, Samuel assumes that the voice beckoning him is Eli’s. If Samuel, whose life’s been devoted to God’s worship and service couldn’t “hear” God how hard is it for us to hear, to listen, to receive God into our life?
Our world is full of noise and distraction—Smart phones, iPads, kindles, tweets, instagram, facebook…24/7 news, 24/7 entertainment, 24/7 comments on every aspect of life. All noise, all the time.
How in the world are we to ever hear, recognize, and receive God in all this noise?
By following the same advice Eli gave Samuel that night thousands of years ago. By getting quiet, by sitting still and by saying to God, “Here I am.” And then, by shutting everything else out and off and listening….listening to God, listening for God. “I’m here God, your servant. And I am listening.”
I’m committed to spending 2 or 3 minutes every morning and 2 or 3 minutes every night in what I call “silent receptivity.” Just sitting and presenting my silent self to God. To hear, to listen, to receive. Perhaps you’d like to join me in this experiment. 2 or 3 minutes every morning every night. Silently receptive.
Now be forewarned, there’s a danger in getting that quiet, becoming that open to receiving God..because if we “get found” by God, if we enter the fold of God’s loving embrace we just may get “known.”
The psalmist says it two different ways, depending on the translation used. In the more familiar Book of Common Prayer translation the first verse of today’s psalm reads:
“You have searched me out and known me”
In the Common English Bible it reads:
“Lord, you have examined me.
You know me.”
You have examined me and I am known.
Both versions allude to the same thing---when we get settled enough, quiet enough, still enough ---we’ll realize this fundamental fact: No one knows us as well as God. No one sees us as well as God. No one Loves us as well as God.
And while that fact should, in theory, be comforting it is, in reality, somewhat terrifying. God knows us. God examines us. God sees us….fully and completely…not the “Cathy” “Pete” “Debi” “Charlie”… we present to the world….not the one we present to ourselves…No, when we sit still and say, “Here I am God, I’m listening,” we’ll come face to face with the truth of who we are in God’s eyes. The real us. The person God created, the child God adores.
  Now, remember this isn’t for the feint of heart--
When we’re truly known, when we accept God into our lives, 100%, our lives will never be the same. Do this and we…each and everyone one of us… will experience fundamental and profound change.
Just like the apostles.

Today and next week our Gospels are stories about Jesus calling the twelve. The come and follow me texts…this week we have John’s version, next week Mark’s. Today we join the story midway through…Jesus has just been baptized and is getting down to the business of calling his closest followers…he’s already called Andrew and Andrew has already gone out and recruited his brother Simon Peter when he turns his sights on  Nathanael…
Yes THAT Nathanael the one who has the funniest line in the Bible…”can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael’s a tough nut to crack, he has skeptic written all over him and no amount of cajoling by Andrew will get him to believe in this Jesus fellow so instead of trying to “sell” him, he just says, Come. See. And so Nathanael goes to see what the big deal is about this crazy preacher man from Galilee. And when he gets there? He discovers that Jesus already knows him.  He discovers that Jesus has already sought him out, found him, seen him, examined him and knows the real and true him. Not the sarcastic and skeptical Nathanael but the genuine Nathanael who tells it like it is, doesn’t suffer fools gladly but who will live and die for the faith. Jesus had seen Nathanael, Jesus knew Nathanael and Nathanael, from that moment on, was never ever the same. All because he went, he heard, he saw, he knew and he followed.
Today’s readings are chock full of wonderful sayings and beautiful prose, providing a guidebook to being a faithful servant of the Lord:
Quiet Down.
Open Up
And Get Found
For the God of Love knows us better than we know ourselves
And when we let God in, when we choose to follow Jesus Christ, when we get quiet, still and receptive, we will be found, we will be loved and we will never ever be the same.
Thanks be to God. Amen.

Baptism of Christ: The sky rips open and the spirit changes everything. Jan 11, 2015

The sky tore open, God’s voice cried out and everything changed.
Happy baptism, Jesus! Don’t let that dove gliding down upon Jesus fool you, His baptism wasn’t a peaceful event. The sky tore open and the voice of God indeed cried out.
Ok, so maybe to those nearby it seemed run of the mill---just another of John’s baptisms….but for Jesus this was something all together different. It says it right there in the Gospel… While he was coming up out of the water, Jesus saw heaven splitting open and the Spirit, like a dove, coming down on him. Now I don’t know if John saw and heard what Jesus did, but he certainly knows that something is different with Jesus’ baptism. “I baptize you with water,” says John,  “but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” Hmm. OK…what the heck does that mean?
Well, John’s baptism was an act that symbolized a change of intention. John’s baptism granted people forgiveness for all they had done up until then and then, as long as they continued to live a God-loving, God-following life they would be granted access to God’s Kingdom. Yes it was a bit of a barter system. You apologize and promise to do good from now on and you get a prize…eternal life.
The baptism of Jesus was something altogether different…
it was all about that sky tearing open and that voice booming from above. And once that happened, once the veil between heaven and earth was dropped and the voice of God spoke, Jesus was ready, anointed as God’s Son and he, who was born full of grace and truth was set to begin a ministry that would change the world forever. Once that sky tore open and once that voice spoke, Jesus was, in effect, unleashed.
 No longer was the Kingdom of Heaven something accessible only to the chosen few, the Kingdom of Heaven, the joys of eternal life, the wonder of being part of the Body of Christ here on earth, the gift of the Spirit, grace upon grace, was available to everyone. Always and forever.
John was right, his baptism was a corrective measure, while Jesus’ baptism, the baptism of the Church, was and is a transforming and transfiguring action. Our baptisms serve as the outward and physical sign of our status as beloved children of God.
Now while Jesus was born with a bit of fanfare, and was raised with episodic moments of intrigue and glory…. once he emerged from the waters of the Jordan, there were no more hints, there were no more glimpses…Jesus was ready to accept the mantel the Angel Gabriel had predicted would be his---Jesus, as this day in our church year commemorates was ready to begin the work that he was given to do.
Just like every baptism.
You see when we were baptized we (or our parents and Godparents) committed us to live our lives as Jesus taught. Lives of service, lives of compassion, lives of justice, lives of love.  At the moment of our baptism, we are publically committed to being what God created us to be---beloved children working tirelessly to bring the reign of Christ, the Kingdom of heaven to our world.
Our baptism, every baptism unleashes the Spirit in and between each and every one of us. And our job, from that point on forward, is to follow where the Spirit leads us…into the wilderness of the world. Every time we baptize a new member we have one more foot soldier in this effort to tame the darkness of this world with the light of Christ, a light that is ours for the claiming as children of God, children whom God loves dearly and who bring God great joy.
And we need all the companions we can get! Because the reality is, defeating the darkness of This World, the darkness of injustice, the darkness of prejudice, the darkness of hate, is tough work.
This past Tuesday night, when we said goodbye to the building at 16 Linwood, reminded me of the struggle between darkness and light. There were a number of people missing from that grand celebration of what was and what will be----people who, 3 ½ years ago, told us that what we were trying to do at Ascension; offer Eucharistic focused, Trinitarian based worship done in a radically inclusive way at an unusual time and focused more on spreading the light of Christ rather than sticking with the status quo, would never ever work. People called Pete, Mark and me heretics. People who persisted in bringing their darkness of doubt and hate and fear into our midst were, for the most part, missing on Tuesday. There was too much light, too much love and too much faith in that space for them. So they didn’t come. Did our plan for Ascension, and this covenant with Good Shepherd work out like we had anticipated? Nope….but what is happening with our covenant is the work of the Spirit. And the Spirit doesn’t always do what we expect,rather she does what we need. The spirit isn’t always easy to take. The spirit often….always?....takes us into uncomfortable territory. The spirit often….always….pushes us farther than we may think we can go. The spirit often…always….has plans for us that simply weren’t on our bucket list.
But, and this is the thing, the Spirit, the spirit that descended onto Jesus at his baptism, the spirit that infused each and everyone of us at our baptism is always and forever with us. We just need to have courage, to have enough faith to trust that the Spirit will never leave us  and then we need to accept the presence, the leanings and the nudging of the Spirit to take us places we never imagined we could go. For when we follow her when we respond to her, the sky tears open and the joy of our Creator God brightens our path and leads us home.
So on this first Sunday in the season of light, Epiphany, on this first Sunday of a new address for Ascension and a new step in our journey as covenant partners, let’s all take a few moments to listen for the Spirit. It may come to us as quietly as a dove, or as raucously as a voice booming from the torn open heavens, but let us listen, let us ponder and then let us follow in faith with thanksgiving. Amen.+

Christmas 2 January 4, 2015 Deacon Pete

We revere Mary for many things.  For her purity, her faith, and her willingness to say yes.  Today I am thinking about how much time she spends on donkeys during our Christmas readings. Now, donkeys are built differently than horses, their legs have no shock absorbers, there is no such thing as a smooth ride on a donkey.  And, here she goes again.  She has just given birth to our Lord, without modern anesthesia or even aspirin to dull the pain.  Nevertheless, when Joseph says it is too dangerous for them to remain in Bethlehem, we don’t hear about her objecting or refusing; no, she saddles up her weakened, fragile body, clasps her infant son to her breast, and rides off to Egypt.
As hard as it is to imagine being Mary, it is just as hard to put ourselves in Joseph’s sandals.  Here he is, an older, wiser, established Jewish man; a carpenter, not a rabbi or a temple leader whose specialty is study of the prophecies or experience with angels and visions.  And yet, three times now Joseph has been visited by an angel.   And more incredulously, three times now Joseph listens and obeys angelic direction.  He did not put Mary away and quietly dismiss her, instead he did as the angel said and took her for his wife.  Today he moves his wife and newborn son off to Egypt for safe keeping after hearing a warning from an angel in a dream.  Then some time later, after yet another dream, Joseph moves his family out of Egypt back to Nazareth.  Joseph, a regular guy, not a mystic, not a visionary, not a prophet, not anyone especially religious, allows the Holy Spirit to direct his life and the lives of his family.
Today’s gospel reminds us that life is not always perfect and pretty.   In fact life can be ridiculously imperfect, life can be scary and unpredictable.  Herod is so frightened by the birth of Jesus that, in verses we don’t read today, he orders the massacre of all male children under the age of two, so he can be sure that this threat to his throne is exterminated.  Herod lives in fear, responds out of fear, and eventually dies a fearful death.  Herod stands in great contrast to Mary and Joseph who regardless of what is going on in their lives, listen and obey the promptings of their God.
We are at the beginning of a new year.  For some of us that is a welcome thought.  We are finished with the trials and tribulations of 2014 and eager to wipe the slate clean and to get on with living into whatever 2015 has in store for us.  For others of us, the New Year holds anticipation of hard work, loss, fearful new beginnings and perhaps more changes than we are comfortable with.
Good Shepherd begins this year without Marie Hubbard.  For the first time since 1919 Marie is not physically a member of this congregation.  Her decades of hard work, faithful attendance, financial support, ultimate loyalty and commitment to Good Shepherd have reached an end.  We will not see the likes of Marie again, a woman who until recently was never seen out of a skirt and stockings. Our world has changed, family life is different, the demands on womens’ time is such that things like St. Monica’s Guild, fashion shows, and diocesan altar guilds can no longer anchor their lives.
Good Shepherd begins this year as a congregation with an opportunity to model for our diocese, our city and our region what genuine hospitality looks like.   Together with the Church of the Ascension we will strive to live in harmony, to display radical welcome to each other and to all those who enter our doors.
Good Shepherd begins this year in a place that is only a few short blocks away from much of the city’s recent gun violence.  What does that mean for us?  Are there conversations we should be having about what it means to be a faith community living almost blissfully unaware of what our neighbors across Main Street deal with on a daily basis?
Ascension begins this year by celebrating more than165 years of faithful presence on the corner of Linwood and North and saying good-bye to a building that no longer meets our needs and no longer serves our mission.  We will sort out our history and our ‘belongings’ over the next few months as we move forward into a “new for us” worship space at 96 Jewett Parkway.  Our gratitude toward our covenant partners, the Church of the Good Shepherd, is mixed with sadness and fear, as well as some regret and apprehension.
Ascension begins this year as a congregation with an opportunity to model for our diocese, our city and our region what stepping forward in faith looks like.  There are no guarantees that our move to 96 Jewett Parkway is sustainable, and no guarantees that blending two congregations into one physical plant is really possible.
Ascension begins this year with hope that God’s grace will carry us through.  It is clear from today’s Gospel that safety and well being are not always found in comfortable, familiar surroundings.  It is clear that sometimes, in order to survive, we must move outside conventional boundaries, think unconventional thoughts and pray unconventional prayers. (Shelly Matthews, www.workingpreacher.org)
Like Mary and Joseph, Ascension and Good Shepherd are beginning a journey with no promise that the outcome will be anything we can predict or control.  For each other, for our diocese and for our region we can become a place of unexpected welcome.  We just might discover that the stranger can be a source of hospitality, we just might experience God working outside well worn paths and far beyond any road we might assume to be safe for traveling.  (ibid.)
After all, the birth of Jesus didn’t immediately make the world better. (ibid.) The promise of the incarnation is not that we will have only fair weather, plenty of food for the journey and unbumpy roads; the promise of the incarnation is that right here, right now, always and forever, God is doing something different. (ibid.)  Let us pray as Paul did that the eyes of our hearts will have enough light to see God’s call to us and to see the greatness of God’s power working among us.  AMEN.

Marie Hubbard Funeral Homily January 10, 2015

+The hymn before this morning’s Gospel is the iconic Good Shepherd hymn, The King of Love, My Shepherd Is. When I re-read the words in preparation for this morning’s service I realized that this hymn expressed exactly what I wanted to say this morning.
So, as we honor the life of our longest tenured and much beloved member, Marie Hubbard, I’d like to walk though that hymn, one more time, with Marie by my side.
Verse 1
The King of love my shepherd is,
whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am his,
and he is mine for ever.

Marie Hubbard had many loves in her life—she had her parents, her siblings, her step-son, her nephews her nieces, her friends, her beloved Checkers. And her Lord. Marie loved her God and Marie’s God, our God, loved her. For ever.

Verse 2:
Where streams of living water flow,
my ransomed soul he leadeth,
and where the verdant pastures grow,
with food celestial feedeth.

A Good Shepherd, a successful shepherd leads her flock toward verdant pastures. A Good Shepherd, a successful shepherd is always on the move, always entering new territory. A Good Shepherd, a successful shepherd knows that to remain stagnant is to die. Marie Hubbard didn’t particularly like change—who does---but she walked through change with grace, class and dignity. Think of how many changes someone who has lived for 95 years endures? The world of 2015 is a much different place than in 1919. The church of 2015 is a much different church than it was in 1919, yet, there was Marie, riding out the changes, accepting them and even, in some cases enjoying them. It’s no secret that she wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of having a woman priest as her rector and yet, after I’d been on the job for a few months when asked what she thought of having a woman priest she said, “well it’s Cathy.”  In other words, the concept of a woman priest was something that made her uncomfortable, but the reality of having a relationship with me, was not uncomfortable at all. She didn’t let her anxiety about the different keep her from entering the different because Marie Hubbard knew that to stay put, to not change was to become stagnant, stale and out of touch. And Marie? Well she didn’t believe in stagnant or stale.

Verse 3
Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
but yet in love he sought me,
and on his shoulder gently laid,
and home, rejoicing, brought me.

Did Marie stray? Oh I’m sure she did. When she was shunned by people here because of her divorce, I’m sure she had some uncharitable thoughts about them. When Pat asked if she could begin attending Good Shepherd after Clyde’s death, I know Marie struggled….but at the end of the day, no matter what the uncomfortable circumstance, Marie was always led back to the peace that one finds in God—she always chose the high road for it is on the high road that the peace of God dwells.

Verse 4
In death’s dark vale I fear no ill
with thee, dear Lord, beside me;
thy rod and staff my comfort still,
thy cross before to guide me.

 As Marie’s health declined, especially these last three years, she lost a lot. She gave up driving and all the independence that allowed her. Her cancer treatment of two years ago made her very weak leaving her unable to attend church on any regular basis. She needed more and more help with activities of daily living. Her world shrank and at times she felt discouraged and alone…but then she’d consider others, she’d pull herself up out of her despair to engage us in our lives. I know you all have stories about how Marie would keep up with the world through our lives…just recently as her world was turned upside down with the move to long term care, Marie made sure to inquire about my mother, who had taken quite ill. At our last visit, on Christmas Eve, Marie asked me to wish my mother good health and a Merry Christmas. The dark vale of earthly death was spreading round her, yet still she reached out in love to others.
Verse 5
Thou spread’st a table in my sight;
thy unction grace bestoweth;
and oh, what transport of delight
from thy pure chalice floweth!

On Monday December 29th, around 8 in the evening, Marie Blanche Merrick Hubbard rolled over in her bed and took her final breath. It was as if she closed her eyes and saw the heavenly banquet spread before her and realized that her work here was done and that her place in heaven awaited her. Her chalice indeed was full of delight, and the table of the Lord, was full of grace. She let go and was transported into that place where there is no sorrow, nor sickness, nor tears, but simply grace-filled delight.
As we say farewell to Marie this morning, let us be comforted in these words from the final verse of the hymn:

And so through all the length of days
thy goodness faileth never:
Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praise
within thy house for ever.
Our dear Marie, we know you are singing the praises of The Good Shepherd for all eternity and we know that your goodness, your grace and your love never wavered and never failed. Thank you for what you did for us, thank you for who you were and may light perpetual shine upon you. We will miss you, we love you and we will never ever forget you. Rest in glorious peace and please, along with the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ, watch over us.
 Amen. +

Christmas I: Full of Grace and Truth and Love, This is OUR Christmas Story 28 Dec 2014

+ Whenever we have an opportunity to hear the Creation story read as part of our Sunday readings, I often read the Creation story as told by Jerome Berryman in the Godly Play Sunday School curriculum. Today’s Gospel, commonly referred to as the Prologue of John, is a creation story and a Christmas story all wrapped up in one.
It is the foundational story of our faith.
And it is as confusing and confounding as anything else in Christianity…but here’s a tip-----don’t think too hard, just listen.
In the beginning...well in the beginning there wasn’t much. It’s true; in the beginning there wasn’t much of anything. At least nothing we would recognize, nothing that fits the limits of our human imaginings.
For in the beginning there was, simply, Love.
And not just any Love but capital L Love, the original Love. And this Love, the source of all Love could not, would not, and will not be contained.
So it sprung forth. And is still springing forth. It won’t end.
Love sprang forth. As light. A light to enlighten the nations, to enlighten the people, to illuminate all. Light was the first offspring of Love…
And this light? This light isn’t just any light; it is the Light, which was made from Love. It’s the light that illuminates eternity. It is the Light of Christ. It is the Light of God. It is the Fiery Light of the Holy Spirit. This is the light of all people. Forever.
The Light and the Love from which it sprung has spent generations’…millennia….illuminating the world, warming hearts and leading the way.
The way toward grace and truth.
The way from and back to Love.
In the beginning. Well, even before the beginning, it was dark. The light glimmered and then shone in the darkness, but the darkness didn’t go away. The darkness doesn’t go away. It creeps in. Here and there, now and again. But the Light which comes from Love is resilient. It is strong, it is persistent. The Light which Comes from Love is God and God will not stop, God will not be overshadowed, no matter how hard the darkness tries.
But the dark? It has a strange hold on us. It terrifies and intrigues us. It pulls at us and often, often we succumb. Not because we are bad, but because we are afraid. And darkness preys on fear.
Letting go of the dark is scary. It makes no sense…it’s one of the great mysteries of life, but it is true: Letting go of the dark is scary.
The angels say, Do Not Be Afraid. Prophets are afraid, but they do it anyway. This being afraid and doing it anyway is the definition of courage. So Do Not be Afraid or have Courage and Be afraid but do it anyway-----For the Light which is Love is waiting.
The Light. That light which comes from Love, does not, can not and will not be overshadowed by the darkness. It will not give in to fear. The light shines brightly, waiting for us to open our hearts, minds and souls to it.
Is there darkness in your hearts? Is there fear? The Light that comes from Love is waiting. Waiting for you, waiting for us, to let go of the dark and allow the light to shine.
It has come to dwell among us in that manger and we need to travel, with the shepherds and the magi, to that barn, peering over the crib to gaze at the outstretched arms of our Savior, reaching out, in light and love.
We must shed the fear of darkness and the darkness of fear, reaching down to the source of light and love, embracing it, embracing him, the Christ Child. The Child who has come to dwell among us, full of grace and truth.
Because just like the angel Gabriel’s visits to Mary and Joseph, and just like no room at the inn and shepherds in a field, this shedding the dark and embracing the light is our Christmas Story, because our Christmas story is all about God’s unending love for us---a love that could not be contained, a love that absolutely needed to come down from heaven and dwell among us in the person of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, Emmanuel.
In the beginning was Love. And in the present is Love. And in the future? Love. Love. Love.
Merry Christmas, Love is in the house and His name is Jesus.

Amen.

I Believe. Do You? Christmas Eve 2014

Our Christmas card this year encourages people to “Believe in the magic of the season.”
I’m all over that, for I do BELIEVE and I consider the incarnation---God taking on flesh and bones to live among us—to be a magical and glorious thing. Likewise, I find Santa, his sleigh, those reindeer and the elves to be pretty magical and glorious as well.
Lately, there’s been a lot of chatter on social media about putting the “Christ back in Christmas,” about focusing less on Santa and his sleigh and more on Christ and his crib.
Well you know what? I don’t think these two images are mutually exclusive. I think these stories can peacefully co-exist because they’re both wonderful tales of love and mystery…all we have to do is believe.
Believing is a wonderful thing.
But it’s also where we get into trouble. You see there are an awful lot of people who spend a whole lot of time trying to tease the “facts” out of the Christmas story. There are people who vehemently deny the notion of a virgin birth, there are others who take great glee is noting that there is no historical evidence that there was a census in Judea in the early part of the first century, while still others like to point out that this birth happened in August not December, in Nazareth and not Bethlehem.
Whatever.
You see the Christmas stories—the one with Jesus and the one with Santa—aren’t about fact, they’re about truth.
And the truth of the matter is, I believe.
I believe that Jesus is God in the flesh, born of a peasant girl and her betrothed, Joseph.
I believe that this was an extraordinary birth in otherwise ordinary circumstances.
I believe that God chose to come among us in this way because God didn’t want to make a big splash.
 I believe God wanted to come to us in a whisper not a shout.
I believe God wanted to ease into living among us, in the flesh of Jesus.
And I believe we needed to be eased into having God among us, in the flesh.
I believe this was not something to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly. I believe this needed to be entered into cautiously and with restraint.
I believe that God came to live among us, because I believe God really wanted to know just what it was like to be human.
I believe that God wanted to know creation not only from the top down, but from the bottom up.
  So God came to us the same way we all come, through the very natural, very messy, at times very complicated and very risky process of pregnancy and then birth.
You see, Jesus being born to two ordinary people in a somewhat extraordinary circumstance is exactly how the Messiah, the Prince of Peace, Emmanuel, God in the flesh needed to come to us. Because the sacred and the miraculous isn’t only in the gold and shiny, the neat and tidy and the all put together.
It’s in the mess and muss of birth.
The sacred and the miraculous isn’t only the glorious sunsets, it’s also the rain storms.
The sacred and the miraculous isn’t only the fabulous arias, it’s also the tinny tune of a tone deaf child
The sacred and the miraculous isn’t only on Christmas and Easter.
The sacred and the miraculous is every single day.
The sacred and the miraculous is all that God has created, because all that God creates is beautiful, stunning and miraculous…even when it’s messy.
All that God creates is priceless
All that God creates is holy
And all that God creates is wonderful.
This is the wonder and the glory of this holy and blessed night: that God came to be among us in the skin and bones of humanity, in the dirt and dust of the wilderness, in the baying, baa-ing, mooing  and clucking of the donkeys, sheep, cows and chickens of that barn. That God came to be in the hearts and minds and souls of each and every one of us gathered here on this silent night.
I believe that God as Jesus Christ was born to Mary and Joseph and that this birth was revealed with a great heavenly host to shepherd’s tending their flock in a nearby field because God is in the ordinary and the mundane, as well as the extraordinary and the magnificent.
I believe that Jesus is born to Mary and Joseph each and every year so that maybe, just maybe, a few more people will come to believe that God loves us—US—so much that God just can’t stay away.
I believe in the miracle of Christmas, because I believe in the never-ending, all encompassing love of God, a God who needed, absolutely positively needed to be with us, skin and bones, dirt and dust, baying and mooing and baaing.
I believe in the absolute truth of this Holy Night: that Jesus Christ is God in the flesh, come to earth through us and for us.
And that, my friends is one fantastic Christmas gift.
Now all we have to do is return the favor and give God the only gift God desires, the only thing God wants: us. So on this most beautiful of Christmas nights I encourage you, I implore you, yes I am not above begging you to take a lesson from God and do everything in your power to accept God into your hearts and your minds and your souls this night and forevermore. Because when you do that, when you welcome God into your life, you will, Believe. And that, believing, is, by far, the greatest gift of all.
So, go, tell and believe: Jesus Christ is here, Alleluia and  Amen.

Advent 4 We are wonderful in God’s eyes. Yep, regular ol you and me Dec 21 2014 Yr B

+
“Nothing is too wonderful to be true.
Nothing is so holy it’s unreachable.
And nothing is as sacred and wondrous to God as we are.
God loves us beyond all understanding. I say it all the time and here I am, saying it again!
But this fact, that we are wonderful in God’s eyes, is really difficult for us to believe and to accept.
Mary, the Mother of Jesus who takes center stage today, is a really good teacher. In today’s readings, Mary schools us on graceful acceptance of the incomprehensible Love that is God.
Mary said yes, she walked with faith, she journeyed in trust and, even though she had nary a clue what was going to happen, she responded to God’s beckoning, to God’s reaching out, to God’s Love taking on flesh in that Bethlehem barn.
Mary was receptive, she made room for God in her life and when God called, she answered.

Now before you say, “well sure, that was Mary….there’s no way I could do that,” consider this:
Mary, contrary to generations of theologians who have tried to make her more than human, was a young girl who had no remarkable pedigree, no history of exhibiting outrageous faith and who was, from an ordinary family.
So, why did God choose her?
Because she was ordinary, and ordinary humans—people like you and me, people like Mary and Joseph---are absolutely adored by God.
This is the true miracle, the true wonder of the story of Jesus’ birth: it happened to regular people.
Regular people were chosen to bear and raise God in the Flesh.
Regular people who responded with amazing, astounding and outlandish grace, but were regular people nonetheless.
I suppose we could say that God knew Mary would say yes.
I suppose we could say that God knew Joseph wouldn’t throw Mary to the curb when he found out about the pregnancy.
I suppose we could say that God had this whole thing planned out, like some type of masterful puppeteer, but there’s no evidence to suggest this to be true.
Rather there is a preponderance of evidence to suggest that God approaches us and asks us---all the time---to be the bearers of God’s wondrous light to the entire world and that, those of us who say “yes” are in for the ride of our lives.
Noah, Abraham, Sarah and Hagar, Moses, Aaron and Miriam, David and Nathan, Ruth and Naomi---these are not people of extraordinary moral character or tremendous faith when God reaches out to them. As a matter of fact, most of them tried their darndest to, at best, ignore and, at worst, reject God’s overtures. But, regardless of their hesitancy, regardless of their utter humanity, each and every one of them ended up being servants of God, bearers of Good News, prophetic witnesses of God’s abundant, expansive and remarkable Love.
This is what we’re all called to do and to be.
God doesn’t choose us for who we are at our worst moments, God chooses us for who we can be at our best.  And God knows that we all---each of us---can be something amazing. Something wonderful. Something prophetic. Because God knows we are—each and every one of us—someONE amazing, someONE wonderful, SomeONE prophetic.
We just need to find our voice, our faith, our trust.
And then we need to
use our voice,
exercise our faith
and exert our trust.
We can learn how to do this, by watching Mary.
Mary asks Gabriel, “How Can this Be?”
Gabriel replies, it can be because you, like all of humanity, is favored by, loved by and longed for by God. And nothing—“NOTHING is impossible with God.”
Mary, HEARING that nothing is impossible with God, BELIEVING that nothing is impossible with God, TRUSTING that nothing is impossible with God simply responds with:
“Here I am Lord. Let it Be according to Your Word.”
She didn’t do a cost benefit analysis. She didn’t consult her business manager or her therapist or her life coach.
She simply said, Here I am Lord. Your servant. Let it Be.
Mary wasn’t any holier than you and me. But, perhaps because of her age, perhaps because she was from a small country town, perhaps because she was so in awe of having an angel visit, or maybe just because she was receptive to wonder, Mary stepped aside and let the Love of God take her over, making her an extraordinary instrument of God.
Although Mary wasn’t any holier than you and me,
she sure was brave.
Not because she had a child before marriage. Not because she stood by Jesus all the days of his life, not even because she said yes. No Mary was brave because she trusted. She had faith and she truly believed that NOTHING was too wonderful, too outrageous, too incomprehensible to be true… even the fact that God can and that God does love each and every one of us enough to name us God’s Favored One.
We’re regular folks who’ve been graced with God’s Favor.
And my Advent wish for each and every one of us is that we accept this favor and learn, by taking baby steps, to trust  and to live into it through Faith, accepting that the Love of God isn’t too wonderful to be True, but it is too wonderful to be ignored.
 It’s too wonderful to be tossed aside.
 It’s too wonderful to be denied.
Mary’s soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord. Her spirit rejoices in God her Savior and her wonder is sacred, her trust holy and her example for us?
Priceless.
Nothing is too wonderful to be true, and nothing is too holy to be unreachable and nothing and nobody---is beyond God’s loving embrace.
So, my friends, I invite you to join me in entering the mystery and wonder of Christmas, of the incarnation, of Emmaunuel—God with us---and, taking a page from Mary’s instruction book to open wide our arms and proclaim, Here I am, Lord, Here I am.
Amen.+

***this sermon was preached on Advent 4 in 2011 . When I read the readings for this week and started thinking about what I wanted to say, I looked at other sermons I’ve written on this text. When I read this sermon I realized that, in light of the prophetic joint pastoral letter released by the RC and Episcopal Bishop last week, THIS was what I wanted to say to you this week: trusting in God’s outrageous love for us can lead us all into brave and astounding prophecy. So I offered it again this week, with just a few edits***