Sometimes, God Can’t Be Contained Transfiguration, Last Epiphany 2017

Have you ever been transfigured-- so affected by an experience that your actual appearance—how you look, how you carry yourself, changes? It can be negative—when something horrible happens and the wind is taken out of your sails--or positive, you’re in love, you’ve gotten your life back on track after some rough spots.
Something about how you appear, how you present yourself to the world changes.
But sometimes the causes of these transformations, these transfigurations aren’t as clear-- they’re more mysterious.
Mary Oliver describes such experiences in her poem, Mysteries, Yes:
“Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood”----or even explained. These mysteries are experiential and describing them, let alone understanding them, is impossible ----but the affect? That’s life-changing.
In Celtic spirituality these are known as Thin Places.
Thin Places are those moments when we feel especially close to the Divine. When one feels, simultaneously, incredibly small and yet larger than life; one with God, one with all of Creation.
Maybe  it occurs when witnessing a gorgeous sunset, or witnessing the birth of a child.
Or in the midst of an ordinary day—driving the car, washing the dishes, balancing the checkbook. Thin Places are available to all of us at any time and in any place.
Thin places occur when we let the guard of our humanity down long enough for the fullness of the divine to breakthrough.
I think that the Transfiguration was a Thin Place for James, John and Peter. I don’t know exactly happened on top of that mountain, but I do know that something happened. Something transfigurative for Jesus, transformative for his friends and sacred for us all.
It helps to set the stage a bit: After weeks of hearing from the Sermon on the Mount, today we skip ahead in Matthew’s Gospel, to the 17th Chapter….Jesus is trying to get the apostles ready. They’re headed to Jerusalem and all that will happen there. Jesus needs his friends with him for this journey. He needs them to get it. He needs them ready for the increased scrutiny, for the arrest, for the torture, for the death, for Jesus being gone. They need to feel all of this, for only in feeling it---really feeling it---will they be open to the ultimate Thin Place: the glory wonder and awe of the Resurrection.
And they aren’t getting it.
 Maybe they don’t want to, maybe they simply can’t. And so they go up the mountain. Jesus needed to get away and in his wisdom Jesus knew they—James John and Peter needed to get away too.
It’s only then, when they shut off all the other noise, that this thing happens. Jesus’ appearance, his countenance changes. One commentator describes what happened like this:  “The indwelling Deity darted out its rays through the veil of Jesus’ flesh; His face shone with Divine majesty, like the sun in its strength” (citation lost). At that transfiguring moment, God’s glory could no longer be contained within Jesus…it burst forth.
Sometimes, God’s glory just can’t be contained. Sometimes it over flows, overwhelming our senses.
That’s what happens in Thin places: we’re overwhelmed by God’s Glory. In Thin Places, God’s Glory can no longer be contained.
Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary was a Thin Place, as was Christmas morning, Jesus’ baptism, and the Presentation of Jesus in the temple. Each of these moments were times when, in the course of a routine action---Mary going about the household duties of a young Galilean woman, the birth of a baby to a poor traveling couple, the baptism of a follower of John, the fulfilling of  purity laws by a devout Jewish couple, and the quick trip up a mountain for some retreat time with friends----in the course of these ordinary events, God’s radiance bursts through, our efforts to shut the Divine out of our lives, the noise of daily life which tries to outshine the radiance of God, fails, and we are overwhelmed with what is pure and holy and sacred.
Our humanity can’t manage a steady diet of this radiance. We spend a lot of time and energy layering “life” upon the in-breaking of the Holy—the radiance of God. Therefore, moments of the Holy, Thin Place experiences, are usually fleeting—not because God retreats, but, being overwhelmed, we reach back into the familiar—the noise of daily life--to ground ourselves in the routine, the ordinary, the familiar and unchallenging ebb and flow of our days.
This is why we read the story of the Transfiguration right before Lent. We’re embarking on a stripping down, a quieting, a simplifying of our daily life. We’re preparing ourselves for an encounter with the Divine and this story, , plants something deep within us. Something transformative, that, as we settle into the barrenness of Lent, marinates, stirs, grows. So that, like James, John and Peter, when we walk that walk to Calvary, when we weep with Mary at the foot of the cross, when we linger in the seeming finality of death on Holy Saturday we are strengthened. Strengthened to feel that loss, to realize what life is like without the Divine Radiance of God through Christ. So that, just when the rigors of Lent, the nakedness of the desert, and the restriction of discipline becomes too much, when our senses long for stimulation, we stumble upon the empty tomb….overwhelmed –not by the sights and sounds of our daily world-- but by the radiance of the Divine which, this time, will burst forth from our own skin, crying out Alleluia, God is alive, Alleluia, we are alive.
Amen.

1 Epiphany 7A Trinity Hamburg 2.19.17 Our Enemies are Our Friends

 +There's a great children's book called Let's Be Enemies. The story is all about James and John, two boys who had been friends but because John found James to be a bit too bossy, are now enemies.
You can’t be enemies, in the true sense of the word, without first being friends.
“Enemy” is derived from the Latin inimicus, “In,” meaning “Not” and “amicus” meaning friend. An enemy is someone who is, decidedly NOT A FRIEND.
Now I know we toss the term enemy around when referencing less personal relationships---Isis is our enemy, but when considering the true meaning of the word---enemy as in notafriend---we get closer to what scholars believe Jesus meant in this part of Matthew's gospel.
In Let’s Be Enemies, John, the narrator, is ticked off at his former friend and current “notafriend,” his enemy, James.He spends most of the story talking about retaliation-- what he isn’t going to let James do now that they’re enemies-and what John is going to do to James---revenge.
John engages in what Jesus is telling us to avoid---retaliation and revenge in response to being betrayed, violated, cheated or in some way disgraced.
In the days of Jesus, this code of conduct, as outlined in the Book of Leviticus, was the law of the land.
In The Message a contemporary English translation of today’s Gospel, the last verse, “Be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect” is translated to read: "In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."
John in Let’s Be Enemies is acting like a child. Which is appropriate since he IS a child, but to us, Jesus is saying---“enough with revenge and retaliation—an eye for an eye will just make the whole world blind (Ghandi) Love is the way forward. It’s the only way forward.”  
Now, Jesus isn’t telling us that we should be some type of doormat for abusive behavior. Nor is He telling us that we must passively accept the misfortunes of life. Today’s Gospel is telling us that when we’re treated badly, when our feelings are hurt, when our trust is broken and when our faith in another is betrayed, we shouldn’t “beat them at their own game” or give them a taste of their own medicine.” That’s the behavior of the playground, of children, of immaturity. The behavior of the grown up, the behavior of one mature in the faith of God is to respond to betrayal, lies, and hurt feelings with Love. To realize that the one who is behaving badly is the one who’s hurting, the one who’s lost, the one who’s stuck on the playground of retaliation and revenge. We are to the best of our ability, treat “our enemies,” like God treats us, with love and patience, in generosity and graciousness.
[Now hear me loud and clear, I’m not saying that we should stay in dangerous situations. People in situations of physical, sexual, economic or emotional abuse need to first treat themselves with love, and get into a safe place surrounded by trusted people. God does not want us to be martyrs.] But, outside of these abusive situations it’s pretty clear: we are to love our enemies.
I get it…this isn’t easy. Who wants to love the very person/people that has hurt or infuriated us? But, as we all know, being followers—authentic followers---of Jesus Christ isn’t always easy.
But it is pretty simple. All Jesus asks us to do is to be like him and he---even when he was hanging on the cross---had one clear and consistent position when it came to other people: he loved them. He didn’t always like them, he didn’t always agree with them, he didn’t always enjoy them. But he loved them. Doing this isn’t easy, but it is necessary, because it’s the foundational principle of our faith.
In Let’s Be Enemies, James and John learn that not being friends is a lot harder than being friends, so they make up:
After walking away from each other for a time, John approaches James and says:
“Hey James?”
What?”
“Let’s roller skate.”
“OK. Have a pretzel, John.”
“Thank you, James.”
There’s a lesson here----as children of God we have a responsibility to rise above pettiness, to rise above reacting out of anger, to rise above retaliation. We are Children of a God who will give us all the love we need, who will soothe our wounds with a love which is beyond all understanding. And, just like the child who finds solace when wrapped in the arms of a loving parent, we too find solace in the loving arms of our God, who will—who does-- make everything better. So better that, once the sting of our anger, our hurt and our betrayal is washed away by that Love, we can, like John, turn to the James’ in our life and say, “want to go roller skating, want a pretzel” Because, through the grace of our loving God, I am able to forgive you, you are able to forgive me and together we can move on.
So Let’s be Enemies, Let’s Be Friends, remembering that we are the children of a God who gives us the grace to turn the other cheek, to love the unlovable and to leave the playground of revenge and retaliation behind.
Amen.

Mary’s Eyes Reveal Our Truth The Presentation, tr. February 5, 2017 Grace Lckprt

+ Today we’ve transferred the Feast of the Presentation from Thursday to today. The Presentation commemorates 40 days after Jesus’ birth which, in ancient Judaism, was the day when parents brought their first born son to the temple for a ceremonial sacrifice of thanksgiving.
The Presentation is also a turning point in the church year--as our focus shifts from the manger to the cross, from the wonder of "God among us" to the wonder of the “He is Risen.”
 Several years ago when Pete and I were serving at Good Shepherd in Buffalo, one of our parishioners liked to paint paintings of favorite Bible stories. He knew I loved the story of the Presentation so he painted me his depiction of the story. I love it and I can tell you what I love about it: Mary’s eyes. They show a combination of surprise, fear, and wonder. When I look at them I imagine that she was hoping all the strange events: the angel, the magi, the heavenly hosts, had ended, and that life would return to normal.
But of course, there's nothing normal about the Savior of the world.
Now things did settle a bit: The angels went back to normal angel activity. The shepherds continued to pasture their flocks....  Jesus did what babies do—he ate, he cried, he slept, he grew----life continued its usual course as if nothing had happened. Joseph and Mary did what parents of a newborn do—they oohed and ahhed, they had sleepless nights and on
the fortieth day they traveled to Jerusalem to complete the purification, presentation and sacrifice traditions expected of them... it was the normal thing to do.
But there's nothing normal about this story, is there?
Now, the trip down to Jerusalem was unremarkable---no one noticed them, no one paid any attention to the baby they held.
The baby who will save the world. They entered the temple and offered the usual sacrifice for poor people, two doves.  The priest approached them and automatically laid his hands on Jesus, as if this was just another first born son. He noticed nothing special about this child, Jesus was just one among many, it was a regular, ordinary day.
 But then an older priest, eccentric at best, crazy at worst, burst onto the scene and headed straight to Mary and Joseph. He knew who this child was! He knew, deep in his bones, that this was the One for whom he yearned, the one for whom all of Israel had yearned: the Anointed, the Messiah.
For decades, Simeon had been praying that he would live to see the coming of the Messiah and every day Simeon heard God say, "not today, but soon." On this particular day, Simeon didn't hear "not today", on this particular day Simeon heard-- "go and see, He’s Here!" Rushing to the Temple, Simeon zeroed in on the Holy Family. And, without even realizing how bizarre the whole scene was, Mary offered the baby to Simeon.
Simeon, overcome with joy, with Jesus in his arms, praises God by singing the hymn we use during Evening Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis:
"Lord, you now have set your servant free to go in peace as you have promised. For these eyes of mine have seen the savior, whom you have prepared for all the world to see; a Light to enlighten the nations, and the glory of your people, Israel.”
Why does our focus shift, after today, from Christmas and the manger to Good Friday, the cross and the tomb?
Because of one clause in this hymn: "a savior for the whole world--- A light to enlighten the nations.” This messiah was not just for Israel, no this Messiah was for all the world to see. This simple phrase in a song of praise sets in motion all that leads to Calvary--- Jesus came for everyone, always, no exceptions. Not just Jew, but Gentile too(if this was written in modern parlance it would read “not just Christian, but Muslim, not just Jew, but Sikh…). Not just us, but them. Not just you, but me, not just some but all. Simeon professed what Mary would learn, what she would endure, what she would see. Simeon announced what the world was not yet able to bear: Love had arrived. For everyone, forever.
In the painting, Mary's eyes reveal the truth: Through this child the strong will weaken and the weak will strengthen. The world will get turned inside out and upside down.
And her precious Son, God in the flesh, will be nailed to a tree.
Young Mary knew what Simeon predicted was true: the world that had longed for the Messiah, yearned for Him would, in the end, be unable to bear the reality of Him. That the darkness that feeds our fear, fuels our doubts and tries to deaden our souls would kill that Love and pierce her heart on the darkest Friday of all time.
How she must have longed to keep that knowledge buried for a while longer, how she must have longed to get out of that temple and home to Nazareth where Jesus could be just another boy.
But, before they could leave another character enters the scene: the 84 year old widow and permanent resident of the Temple, Anna. Although she may not have known what she was looking for, when Anna saw Jesus she knew she'd found it. Anna, like Simeon, sang about this great wonder, but, unlike Simeon, who wandered off to rejoice in private, Anna told everyone she met that the Messiah was finally here.
On this day 2000 yrs ago and today, the word is out, the die is cast. The strong will weaken, the weak will strengthen and Love will take its earthly journey until, overcome with fear and doubt, we will do everything we can to snuff it out, to stop it, to stop Him in his tracks. It's a reality none us like or want to admit. But it is a fact of our faith that we join the crowd and shout “Crucify Him!” And, thanks be to God, through God’s amazing, outrageous and abundant grace, we’re also part of the throng shouting, “Alleluia, He Is Risen,” on Easter Morn. Buckle up my friends, the ride of faith is bumpy!
We, along with Mary and Joseph, along with Anna and Simeon, along with Jesus, have embarked on a journey that began at the manger, travels to the temple, the shores of Galilee, the gardens of Gethsemene, the dusty despair of Calvary, the depths of death to emerge, at the last, into the amazing victory of Light, Life and Love on Easter morn.  This journey we are on not easy, but by taking it we, along with Simeon and Anna will, at the end, be truly free.
Amen.

Relationship Brings the Kingdom Come Epiphany 4A Trinity Hamburg

+This morning I want to talk with you about relationships. You see, our Christian faith is all about relationships:
God’s relationship with us, our relationship with God and our relationships with one another.
We were built to be in relationship and when our relationships suffer---the one we have with God, the one God has with us, and those we have with one another, so does our well-being.
So relationships, honest, mutually respectful relationships, are vital to us and to our God.
God longs for us.
And, God longs for us to long for God.
God wants to be in relationship with us.
It’s clear to me that God’s never wanted to be some task master sitting on a throne—distant from us. Nope, since time began, God has reached out to us through a variety of messengers—hoping that humanity would respond in kind.
But, each and every time, no matter how engaging the messenger, no matter how clear the call, we turned away. Read through Hebrew Scripture to hear, again and again, how we have rejected, turned our backs and failed to hear God’s calls to us.
If you ever doubt God’s love for us, read through the Bible---how often have we rejected, ignored or rebelled against God’s love? And yet, God keeps reaching out for us.
Why?
Well I think---and this may seem crazy to you---that God doesn’t feel whole, or complete unless engaged with us in a relationship.
God wants us to want God.
And, at our core, I think we want God.
We want to be in relationship with the Divine, we want to accept God’s never –ending astounding and overwhelming love for us...
The problem is, we get distracted, derailed and lost along the way.
And that’s where this morning’s readings from Micah and Matthew come in-- they both offer us pathways back to God.
The prophet Micah wrote during the 7th century BCE. He was disgusted by the rich and powerful violating their covenant with God. He was concerned about injustice and inequality and longed for the rulers to turn back toward God. The excerpt we just heard is Micah’s outline of all the ways God had been rejected, plus his road map for how to change course, recalculate, and resume a positive relationship with God. Moving toward, instead of away from, the Divine.
Today, here and now, Micah’s words still resonate:
“What does the Lord require of you
BUT to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?”
What does God want from us? To act justly, to be kind and to walk alongside----be in relationship with---God.
And you know what? When we do that—when we act justly, when we do unto others as we would have done unto us, when we love our neighbor as ourselves, when strive for justice and peace among all people, when we respect the dignity of every human being---when we do that, our relationship with God flourishes. And when it flourishes, we are one step closer to bringing God’s kingdom here on earth. And, my friends, that is the point. It is the goal, it is our mission.
Which brings me to our reading from Matthew. Let me set the stage---- Jesus’ ministry is in its early days—John the Baptist has been arrested and Jesus has called his first few disciples. Together Jesus and his followers are travelling through Galilee and with every stop, more people join their group.  At the end of one long day, Jesus gathers his disciples and gives them what in modern day parlance would be called a stump speech. He needs them to know just what he—and this movement---was all about.  So, in what ultimately takes up three chapters of Matthew’s gospel, he teaches us the fundamentals of our faith in what we call the Sermon on the Mount. Before he gets into the specifics of the sermon he gives us a soundbite through these straightforward 9 verses known as the Beatitudes that we just heard.
Jesus highlights all the people who are blessed in the eyes of God----
The poor, the persecuted, the reviled.
Now, does he mean we must be poor, persecuted, and reviled to be blessed?
Does he mean if we are rich, lauded, and loved that we aren’t blessed?
No.
What he means is that we must be engaged and in relationship with all people, regardless of their social economic status, their politics, their upbringing, their belief system, their immigration status, their sexuality, the color of the skin or the name they use for the Divine. What he means is to be in relationship with God, we must be in relationship with each other. Not just the people we are comfortable with, not just the people with whom we agree, not just the people we like.
   But everyone.
Because when we’re in relationship with each other, when we look each other in the eye, even when---especially when---we disagree, we are welcoming God’s kingdom to come. When we do this we become the conduit for the Light and Love of God, as given to us through Jesus Christ, to infiltrate this world, one relationship at a time. And that, my friends, is all God wants.
Amen.

Jesus Finds His Way--Trinity Fredonia, January 22, 2017

+It’s an honor to be here this morning as you, the people of Trinity Church, Fredonia embark on a new journey, a “post Fr. Bob” journey. Things may feel uncertain—change is certainly anxiety producing-- but know that you are in great hands with your wardens and we have a full complement of diocesan staff to support you and, most importantly, pray for you.
It seems appropriate that you enter this time of discernment during the season of Epiphany, for Epiphany is a season of discovery, of greater understanding, of, at times, great enlightenment. Epiphany is a time of getting to know just how Jesus was manifested to the world in his time, and how he is manifested---through us and our actions--- to the world in this time.
During this transition you’ll embark on a number of exercises designed to help you identify who it is you, as a parish, have been; who you, as a parish, currently are; and who you, as a parish wish to be. It’s a time of intentional identity development…but today, on this first day of this new journey it may feel a bit less like identity development and more like an identity crisis!
Many things about Jesus fascinate me, but probably the most consistent thing I wonder about is how Jesus came to realize just who he was. Did Mary figure it out first and tell him, did they both learn it in bits and pieces? Did Jesus have an identity crisis?
After all, a big part of anyone’s development ---whether the Savior of the world or just an average Joe-- is spent figuring out who we are, who we want to be, and what we want to do.
In many ways this is our Epiphany task. These weeks between Christmas and Ash Wednesday allow us –you, me, Jesus---to notice, to realize, to understand and then to act.
This morning’s Gospel takes us to the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry. John has been arrested and suddenly the spotlight is on Jesus.
While Jesus knew, on some level, that he would eventually take over for John, it seems to me that Jesus wasn't expecting such an abrupt changing of the guard. In response, Jesus pulls up stakes and moves away from home, settling in Capernaum on the shores of the sea of Galilee. He moves from the dusty workshop of a stone-mason to the water workshop of fishermen. He left his home to begin a new chapter. He withdrew from the familiar and went to someplace unfamiliar and in many ways, foreign. He was in transition.
It was his turn. He needed to step up and take the mantel handed to him…but he had to do it differently, creating something as bold and challenging as John's message, but somehow make it more “user friendly.” John blustered his way through the Jordan valley with sermons of fire and brimstone, baptisms of life-risking submersion. People didn't so much engage with John as they watched and listened slack jawed and a bit shocked. That worked, for John and for the time and the place of his ministry. But Jesus was a different sort of prophet with a slightly more refined message. Jesus couldn’t follow John, he had to forge his own trail. And he did this by
noticing, realizing, and understanding his context and acting accordingly.
Jesus noticed that when John was no longer in the picture, the movement fell apart.
Jesus noticed that it fell apart because it relied wholly on the person of John to work.
He realized that to make his own ministry work he needed to lead in a different way. He understood that he needed to knock down some walls: the walls of expectation regarding how a prophet behaved, the walls of what people thought a messiah would be and do. He had to break down the walls of expectation and tradition and create something all- together new.
And it worked. For 2000 years people have been invited to join this movement, they've been attracted to it, they've been saved through it. Trinity Church Fredonia is a part of this movement…and it has been for the past 197 years. Throughout the decades lots has changed—in this parish church, in The Church, in this region, this nation and the world. But through it all, you have been here—sharing the light of Christ with others, showing the Love of Christ to others. And you will continue.
On this, the first day of Trinity Fredonia’s new chapter, the territory you are entering is uncharted. For some of you this causes anxiety and worry, for others of you it is a welcome time of discernment and discovery. For all of you it is new.
For all of you it is different.
But be not afraid, for the Light of The World has come to walk among us, to help us notice, realize and understand what it is this world needs from us.
On this, the first day of your “new normal,” continue to do what you have done with Fr Bob and then some, go out from here, and             ~~Notice the hurts of this world
~~Realize that you have the power to do something about those hurts, and
~~Understand that it is our duty, as followers of Jesus Christ, to do this work.
 It's what Jesus encouraged his ragtag band of apostles and disciples to do in Capernaum and it's what he encourages us to do now—to notice who we are, to realize the power we have through Christ, to understand that this power we’ve been given is a great honor and a huge responsibility and then through discernment, conversation and prayer, do the work you’ve been given to do!

Amen.

Advent 3A 11 Dec 2016 Did You Ever Wonder?

+ Have you ever wondered if it’s all true?
Wondered if Jesus really was God in the flesh? Wondered if Mary REALLY birthed the Son of God?
Did you ever wonder if it’s all true?
This question’s been asked by the most faithful and the least—and it makes sense---how can it be that God’s here? There’s still hatred and intolerance; there’s still violence, hopelessness and loss. How can it be that Emmanuel--God with us --- is true?
Is he really the one?
John the Baptist wondered.
Now don’t get me wrong, John the Baptist BELIEVED.
He believed that he was the one to herald the coming of the King, he believed he was to serve as Elijah to the Messiah, that he was to announce the coming of the Lord. But we find him in today’s Gospel wondering if maybe, just maybe he made a mistake.
“Are you the one to come?” John asks.
“And, if you are, how come you’re letting me languish in this cell? Herod isn’t mellowing, my days are numbered, Lord. HOW ABOUT SOME HELP HERE?”
John believed.
But, what John thought he believed wasn’t playing out like he thought it would. He had faith that the Messiah would come. He had faith in Jesus, but Jesus as Messiah? Jesus didn’t fit the prototype, he wasn’t what John expected.
Think about the Gospel stories we hear throughout the year, think about who they tell us Jesus is… He’s not always who we expect…
 We love the man who held children dear, who embraced the outcast and the hated. But to love that Jesus we must also love the Jesus who tells people to turn on their families in order to follow him, who tears up the temple, who compares a Samaritan woman to a dog.
Jesus isn’t always who we want him to be.
Our faith is something we hold dear, the stories of our faith nourish us, the rhythm of our faith soothes us.
But the reality of our faith?
Well that often shakes us to our core.
Where’s the star? The shepherds? Where’s Mary talking to the angel Gabriel? Why oh why must we get these readings about judgment and vengeance 14 days before Christmas? Why can’t we get a nice gentle lead into the story we all know and love?
Well…because the story we know and love isn’t the point. The birth of Jesus isn’t the point.
The life of Jesus and the life of all who follow him is.
Truth is, the factual details of Jesus’ birth don’t necessarily match what we hear in the nativity stories. But it doesn’t matter-- the story rings true in our heart. The Christmas story is an icon of our faith—the census, the barn, the star, the angels, the shepherds, the straw---but in the weeks leading to up to Christmas there’s not a star, a sheep, or an angel in sight.
Instead we get readings foreshadowing the second coming of Christ, the time when Jesus will return to the earth to separate the wheat from the chaff, the sheep from the goats, the followers of God from the non-believers. We get this Gospel where John the Baptist begins to wonder, “are you the one? Because it sure doesn’t look like you are. Where’s the kingdom? Where’s the peace? Where’s the unity?”
Jesus’ words echo here---“what did you come out to see, to hear? A show? A flashy liturgy full of promises, requiring absolutely nothing of you except tossing some money in the collection plate and following a set code of conduct that, if followed guarantees success and happiness…the so –called Prosperity Gospel?”
Wouldn’t it be great if we could come to church every Sunday, listen to beautiful music, recite familiar prayers, hear a decent sermon now and again, enjoy friends at coffee hour….and then go home and not think about it again until next Sunday?
But that’s not how it works is it?
We don’t just wander out of church on Sunday, we are sent out --to seek and serve Christ in all whom we encounter.
We are sent.
To be Christ in the world.
It’s not a spectator sport, is it? We are sent. To see and to do. To notice and to help. To realize and to change.
There’s a lot to do!
  John the Baptist is scared, he’s worn out and he’s worried. Had he made a mistake? Was Jesus really the one to come?
Jesus, instead of soothing John with a simple, “YES and oh by the way here are your parole papers…” tells John that he is the One because the lame walk, the blind see and the hungry are fed. He’s telling John –and us---that the work of God here on earth is accomplished one step at a time, one kind act at a time, one healing moment at a time. And that His coming—the first time and the second---are book ends. We, the Body of Christ on earth are the filler.
 We, the followers of Christ, full of wonder and doubt, full of hope and despair, full of questions that have no clear answers, fill in the space between the first and the second coming one step at a time, one kind act at a time, one healing moment at a time.
Jesus is the Messiah. And we are his followers.
As we enter into the wondrous story of his birth, don’t worry about what is fact and what is not, worry about what is true and right: that God so loved the world, God sent Jesus to live among us, to teach us, to inspire us and to leave us to finish the work that he began.
Amen.

Advent 2A Dec.4, 2016 Nurturing the Shoot Within Us All

+There are so many images that come to mind while listening to today’s readings:
¬ Wolves and lambs lounging in a peaceful co-existence, leopards and lions playing, a baby crawling safely within the reach of the snake.
¬ Gentiles being welcomed into Judaism through the cleansing act of baptism—no 30 foot walls being erected to keep the Palestinians out of Israel back then-- the images are almost unbelievable!
¬ And then we have wild and woolly John the Baptist flying INTO A RAGE at the Pharisees who’ve come to gawk at his baptizing act in the River Jordan. There he is, all smelly and wrapped in camel hair, blasting his message to all within ear shot, a touch of crazed ramblings infused with a wisdom that cannot be denied.
¬ And one of my favorite images of all—that earnest little seedling shooting up from a stump: a branch from the tree of Jesse.
Have you ever felt like a stump….a mere fragment of your former self?  A little dried up, worn down, feeling as if life has cut you off at your knees?
The prophet Isaiah tells us: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse…” The family tree that was the House of David, looked mighty bleak when Isaiah was writing in the 8th c. BCE—it was a mere stump of its former glory---they were under attack by the Assyrians, they were surrounded, defeat was at every turn. It’s hard to imagine the Israelites hopeful at that time, isn’t it?
Who can imagine anything growing while sitting on the stump of utter despair?
 I’ve sat there myself, perhaps you have, too. You may be there now -- at that place where hope is cut off, where loss and sadness have deadened your heart. A place where peace seems out of reach and happiness, the thing of fantasy.
  The good news is that God’s Advent word has come to sit, on that stump, alongside us, right where we are. God’s Advent Word won’t come in a blaze of glory, it’s not delivered on a chariot of fire. It won’t ask us to get up and dance! It comes to us, exactly where we are and it comes to us just how we are...happy and hopeful, sad and despairing, raging and ranting. It doesn’t matter—God’s Advent Word meets us where right we are.
Today’s Advent Words come to us from Isaiah—hopeful words creating a vision that’s surprising in its simplicity and honesty. Nothing hyperbolic and lofty here. The Word is matter-of-fact and brutally honest--the nation as they knew it would never rise again. The shoot would not become a mighty cedar. No, the shoot would become something altogether surprising, altogether different than anything anyone could ever expect. It won’t look mighty, it won’t be fierce… no, it will be a child…a BABY!
Much later in the book of Isaiah we read:
“For [the Lord] grew up before them like a young plant,
and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.”
  Yes, a shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse… fragile, yet tenacious and stubborn. It will grow like a plant out of dry ground. And it will be strong and miraculous enough to push back the stone from a rock-hard tomb.
The shoot will grow in the heart of those cut off by unbearable sorrow until one morning they can look up again. It will grow in the hearts of people told over and over that they are nothing, they are nobody.
In the depths of that sorrow, in the grip of that hate, the plant will grow. It will break through the places where darkness dwells, where hope loses its way, where loneliness spreads. The shoot will grow to sing shouts of Hosanna and Glory to God in the highest.
  My friends, this shoot emerging from the stump of Jesse—this fragile sign--- is the beginning of God’s incarnation—of God’s coming to us, as one of us!
What about the seedling longing to burst forth in our own hearts? Deep in that place where faith longs to break through the hardness of our disbelief, the frozen ground of our fear, the rock hard stone of our despair?  Folks, don’t wait for the tree to be full grown. Search for that sprout, encourage that shoot, welcome the God who comes to us in Advent; inviting us to move beyond all that was into all that will be.
We may still want to sit on the stump for a while and brood—that’s ok--God will sit with us. But God will also keep nudging us: “Look! Look -- there on the stump. Do you see that green shoot growing?”
“O come, green shoot of Jesse, free
Your people from despair and apathy;
Forge justice for the poor and the meek,
Grant safety for the young ones and the weak.
Rejoice, rejoice! Take heart and do not fear,
God’s chosen one, Immanuel, draws near.”
Preparing our hearts for the coming of our Lord requires that we let the shoot of Love take root and grow within us. Because, when we do that, we’ll find ourselves awestruck, alongside Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the donkey, and all the other barn critters, gazing down upon the Savior of the World, come to us as a precious baby boy.
Amen!