Monday, January 7, 2013

First Sunday after Christmas

First Sunday of Christmastide

December 30, 2012


1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26 (NIV)

(18) But Samuel was ministering before the Lord - a boy wearing a linen ephod.
(19) Each year his mother made him a little robe and took it to him when she went up with her husband to offer the annual sacrifice.
(20) Eli would bless Elkanah and his wife, saying, “May the Lord give you children by this woman to take the place of the one she prayed for and gave to the Lord.” Then they would go home.
(26) And the boy Samuel continued to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with men.

Colossians 3:12-17 (NIV)

(12) Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.
(13) Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
(14) And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
(15) Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.
(16) Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.
(17) And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Luke 2:41-52 (NIV)

(41) Every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover.
(42) When he was twelve years old, they went up to the Feast, according to the custom.
(43) After the Feast was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it.
(44) Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends.
(45) When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him.
(46) After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions.
(47) Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.
(48) When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.”
(49) “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”
(50) But they did not understand what he was saying to them.
(51) Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart.
(52) And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.


One of the great things about the holidays is spending time with family. As the holidays pass, we realize another wonderful tradition about the holidays, our families go home. So, in that respect, A bible group was discussing the unforeseen possibility of sudden death. “We will all die some day, the leader of the discussion said, “and none of us really knows when, but if we did, we would all do a better job of preparing ourselves for that day.” Everybody nodded their heads in agreement with this comment.
“What would you do if you knew you only had four weeks of life left before your great judgment day?” the leader asked the group.
“For those four weeks, I would go out into my community and witness to those that have not yet accepted Jesus into their lives,” one person said.
“A very wise thing to do,” said the group leader. And all the group members agreed that would be a very good thing to do.
“For those four weeks, I would dedicate all of my remaining time to being of more service to others, “ said another woman.
“That’s wonderful!” the group leader commented, and all the group members agreed.
One gentleman in the back finally spoke up loudly. “For those four weeks, I would travel throughout the United States with my mother-in-law in an economy car, and stay in a cheap motel every night.”
Everyone was puzzled by his answer. “Why would you do that?” the group leader asked curiously.
“Because,” the man smiled sarcastically, “it would be the longest four weeks of my life.”


I have to admit, that as a kid growing up, this particular piece of scripture made total sense. By that, I mean, it fit into the view of the world I had. Think about it, what self-respecting teenager honestly thinks his parents know what is best? How many of you, at that age, sat in church and thought, why can’t my parents be at least half as cool as Joseph and Mary? Jesus pulls a stunt like this and the pie ends up in the face of Mary and Joseph.
However, looking at this scripture through the eyes of a parent gives me a whole new understanding. This is one of those pieces of scripture that, in all reality, is totally unbelievable. Am I wrong? Put yourself in the story, how different would it turn out?
Here is an example, putting myself and my parents into the story. My parents have realized that I have wandered off. The idea that they left me behind is not even brought up, I was the one who had to have wandered off. They turn around and walk back to Jerusalem, finding me at the temple. The first reaction of my mother, may very well have been close to what Mary said. But that is where the similarities end. At this point, my father would get involved. I think it is curious that Joseph is silent throughout this story. My father would come over, grab me by the ear, with no intention of being gentle. God’s son or not, this just isn’t acceptable behavior. My father would pull me over to the side and slap me right upside the head, again with no intention of being gentle. Then he would say something close to, “Are you out of your mind?” Although his words would be slightly different, just not repeatable in this particular location. Do you know what you put your mother and I through? What could have possibly led you to believe this was ok to do?
Then, let’s assume I respond in the same way Jesus did. “But you should have known I would be here.” “Why would you think any different?” This, in turn, would ensure another slap upside the head as he would say, “This, my boy, is not your mother’s and my fault! You better give up the attitude and answer my questions with a little more respect, or your are gonna have one heck of a headache by the time we get back home. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Dad. I am sorry.” I would have to say, as that is the only acceptable response. And he would reply, now get your butt moving, we are already gonna get home late and you will still get your chores done before you even think about going to bed, understand?”
Now, raise your hand if this story is more in line with what you would have experienced? Don’t lie!
Yet, the story in scripture is so totally different. Why is it, that the story is so unbelieveable? Why do Mary and Joseph react so differently to how most parents react? Is it due to a different time? I don’t think so, if anything parents have gotten less strict rather than more. I believe that a father in ancient Israel would at the least respond as my own father would, likely more strict. Is it because they were at fault? I doubt that too. Jesus knew the rules of the household. He knew that he should let his parents know where he is. So why do we get a story that in so many ways is unbelieveable?
The truth is that there may simply not be an answer to this question. Maybe part of being a Christian is believing in the unbelievable? We have just celebrated Christmas, which when you get down to the cold hard facts, is pretty unbelievable. Christmas is about believing that God himself came to earth as a flesh and blood human. God came to us as one of us. This is unbelievable too. Prior to Christianity, most religions had a God or Gods that were elsewhere. They may interact with humanity through the weather, through disasters or through blessings. They may have helped win battles, punish enemies, or hear prayers, but they were not human in any way, shape, or form. Even in Judaism, Christianities forbear, God was separate from the human experience. He was present in prayer, in battle, in blessing, but he was not human. Not only this, but according to Jewish tradition, the Messiah that was to come was not God incarnate. The Jews believed that the messiah that was foretold by the prophets, would be a soldier, a leader, someone who would help overthrow the shackles of Rome or any other foreign power that held the Jews captive. The messiah was not understood to be God in the flesh.
Yet, it turns out, that is exactly what the messiah was. Christmas is the celebration of the Incarnation, the moment when God decided that he was to intervene in humanity by becoming fully human. The Word became flesh, as John reminds us. But what does it mean to become fully human? And what purpose would God have for intervening in humanity in this way?
These are questions I ask, knowing very well that I don’t have the answers to them. In fact, I don’t believe anyone has the answers to these questions; except God, of course. Yet, here we are, the last sunday of the calendar year, asking these questions and wondering what it all means. We are hoping that we can gain a better understanding. We are hoping that as we make the progression from one year to another, that God is still present, that God is still guiding us, protecting us, and most importantly loving us, because if this last year taught us nothing else, it taught us that we simply can’t do it alone.
During this year we have tried to deal with changes, we have tried to be open and honest in our discussions with each other. We have tried to be helpful to those in need. We have tried to be of service to those we encounter. We have tried to be open-minded when our day to day realities get shattered or when the change comes slowly, tapping at our stained-glass windows, reminding us that what has been is no more and that whether or not we like it, the change has come and is ready to engulf us in its uncertainty, its strangeness, its darkness.
This week has been one of discomfort for me. I have been battling this cold or whatever it
is. I have been coughing, I have lost my voice on a number of occassions. I have felt feverish, yet with no fever. On top of that, my kids are with their grandmother, so the house is eerily quiet. So quiet, that I can actually hear myself think. I had forgotten what that was even like. Yet, it has served to give me a space. A space to help me sort out all that I have been experiencing this year. Sometimes it is important to just take a time and reflect, collect, and invigorate. This past week has served very well for this. This idea of incarnation was one thing I spent some time reflecting about this week. And it is here, in this idea of incarnation, that my thoughts found some structure.
The other night, Eimy and I went to the movies to see Les Miserables. Now, it has long been one of my favorite stories. I learned the music when I was in high school, I saw the play twice on broadway, I have seen a number of the film adaptations, and when I lived abroad the first time, I took with me, and read, the entire novel, which, if you have never seen it, is quite bulky. My copy had over a thousand pages, but it was a book that I couldn’t but down.
So, Eimy and I went to see the movie and I have to admit it is one of the best movie adaptations I have seen in a long time. I am going to assume that you all have some idea of what the story is about, and it is far too complicated to get into it here. However, if you have never read it or seen it, I encourage you to do so.
As I watched this movie, I noticed something that I had never noticed before. The story, like many others, involves a number of different characters, and each one is essential to the story. Yet, most stories present us with characters that are either good or evil, either positive or negative, either saint or sinner. Yet, Hugo’s characters don’t fall under any of these categories. They are each very human and they each suffer from different character flaws and tendencies. No one in the story is truly good and no one is truly bad. Even the character who most people associate as the “evil” character, Inspector Javert, is not evil at his core. As you get to know him, you understand that his understanding of the world is based on laws. For him, good means following the laws and bad means breaking them. In his mindset, he is Good, regardless of how he portrayed.
The main character also, is no saint. He has done a lot of good in his life, but he has erred in the past. It goes on like this. No character is without some flaws, some imperfections. They are, for lack of a better term, truly human in every way. Because we all are this way too. Each and every one of us is not truly good or truly bad. If we look at ourselves, we see our flaws. When we look at others, we see their flaws as well. Regardless of how we try to define our world and its inhabitants, at the end of the day, we are all just human and our understanding of the world comes from that collective identity as member of humanity.
So, if God were to intercede in our lives, doesn’t it make sense that he would have to do it as a human, because doing it in any other way would make it impossible for us to grasp the message he gives us.
As the characters in the movie change over time and circumstance, they too slowly begin to see their common humanity. Without trying to spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie, the last scene is one in which the lead character finally sees the connections that have woven together his reality throughout his life.
Much the same way, the incarnation is essentially, God’s attempt to help us see the connections that weave all of us together, a tapestry that begins and ends with God himself. Jesus being born a flesh and bone human being allows us to view the connections that unite us with each other and the connections that unite us with God.
This Christmas, we celebrate connection. We celebrate that God wants us to connect to each other and to him. We are invited to participate in the weaving together of all of our uniqueness with the glory and brightness that is God incarnate.
Towards the end of the movie, there is a song, and one of the lines says, “to love another person is to see the face of God.” We know that God is love, but this re-words that truth in a way that makes us stop to think. To love is to see. To love another is to see God. God has entered into our reality to show us just how world-changing love can be.
As you go today, as you prepare for the beginning of a new year, a new life, a new time, a new motivation, may you also prepare for a new love. May this year and may this day give you the opportunity to see God’s face in the love you have for your spouse, for your children, for your family and for your friends. And may others see God’s face in the love they have for you. That is the incarnation, seeing God in all his glory in the flesh and bone of those you encounter.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Sunday of the Epiphany

January 6, 2013

Sunday of the Epiphany


Isaiah 60:1-6 (NIV)
(1) Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
(2) See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the Lord rises upon you and his glory appears over you.
(3) Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
(4) Lift up your eyes and look about you; all assemble and come to you; your sons come from afar, and your daughters are carried on the arm.
(5) Then you will look and be radiant, your heart will throb and swell with joy; the wealth on the seas will be brought to you, to you the riches of the nations will come.
(6) Herds of camels will cover your land, young camels of Midian and Ephah. And all from Sheba will come, bearing gold and incense and proclaiming the praise of the Lord.

Ephesians 3:1-12 (NIV)
(1) For this reason I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles -
(2) Surely you have heard about the administration of God’s grace that was given to me for you,
(3) that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation, as I have already written briefly.
(4) In reading this, then, you will be able to understand my insight into the mystery of Christ,
(5) which was not made known to men in other generations as it has now been revealed by the Spirit to God’s holy apostles and prophets.
(6) This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.
(7) I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace given me through the working of his power.
(8) Although I am less than the least of all God’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ.
(9) and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things.
(10) His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms.
(11) according to his eternal purpose which he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord.
(12) In him and through faith in him may we approach God with freedom and confidence.

Matthew 2:1-12 (NIV)
(1) After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem
(2) and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”
(3) When king Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.
(4) When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born.
(5) In Bethlehem in Judea, they replied, for this is what the prophet has written:
(6) But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.”
(7) Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared.
(8) He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”
(9) After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.
(10) When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.
(11) On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh.
(12) And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

Now, Now the best comes. Did you ever read a book, or watch a movie and you get emotionally involved in the story. Then, at the very end, you hear that line. What now? someone will ask. Now the best comes.
You have been emotionally invested in the story, living the experience along with the characters, and finally at the end, that line comes along and you know it is the end of the story, but there is more and it is even better than what you just experienced.
It is a nice thought, it is a good way to end a story, but it can also be extremely aggravating.
That happened to me this week. I was still struggling with this cold that keeps toying with me, like I’m one of those block puzzles that kids sometimes get for christmas. With a little bit of time and forethought, the puzzle almost gets completed. Maybe its one of those 3d eiffel towers or empire state buildings. You finally get to the last piece and then the dog gets loose and knocks it all down. That kind of cold. just feeling better and along it comes again and knocks you down again. So, I was working a lot at home, planning out services over the next couple of months and doing a little pleasure reading. I picked up a book called Cross Roads by Wm. Paul Young that I had heard good things about and got into it and couldn’t put it down.
The story, like many others, dealt with a young man who was rich and powerful, but in his quest to be rich and powerful had burnt a lot of bridges and had ostracized himself from friends and family to the point that he was alone. He was alone and paranoid and unwilling to trust or love because in this quest, he had realized that those who got close to him, were there not out of an honest sense of friendship but rather because they hoped to gain, or at least he feared that they hoped to gain advantage by being near him.
The character had lost a lot in his life. He lost his parents at a very young age. He lost his brother shortly thereafter. He lost his son to an illness no one could have predicted. He lost his wife because the loss of his son had hit him so hard and he lost his daughter in that process. He lost everything and everyone that had mattered to him. And, most importantly, he lost his ability to trust. And with this, he lost his ability to see the hurt he caused, and the destruction he left in his path.
The character, at least for me, was easy to connect with. Now, the actions that made up his life may be extreme, but yet, to some extent we all can understand his anger and frustration. We all hurt people we love. We all destroy things, whether by intention or not. The destruction that we cause is real, especially for those who try to pick up the pieces.
Yet, when we get to the point when we begin to realize what we have done, the struggle becomes even harder. Destruction is one thing. It is entirely another to come to terms with it and begin to rebuild what you have destroyed. Apology and forgiveness fall into a category that many of us find unbearable at best and impossible at worst. It is so much easier, we tell ourselves, to cut our losses, to live with the shame and the regret than to try to make amends for what we have done.
I realized that myself this week. One afternoon, Eimy and I were talking and I began to realize some things that I had done that had seriously hurt her. Yet, acknowledging the wrong I had done, but I had never really apologized for it. Until that afternoon, as I stood there and tried to find the words that I needed to say and she needed to hear. Eventually, I muddled through what I was trying to say. I hoped that I had fixed it. Yet, even when we apologize, forgiveness is not a given. Even when we get the forgiveness we seek, it doesn’t come as soon as we hope it would.
It is a difficult thing to admit our faults, seek forgiveness for them, and pray that the forgiveness, the true forgiveness we seek, will come. Many times it does, and I am thankful that for me it did, at least it did this week. But there are other people I have hurt in my life whose forgiveness I still wait for. I imagine that many of you can relate to this. We all struggle with these issues and we struggle with them throughout our lifetimes.
When you think about it, it does make sense, kind of. You see, it is all interconnected. Our lives, our loves, our sins, and our fears. The tapestry that is life can not be separated from the strands of fabric that compose it. And in each of these strands, we find our realities. We find our lives, our loves, our sins, and our fears. Trying to rid our everyday from these fabrics, weakens the fabric as a whole.
The book that I read talks about this. The greatest fear of all is, of course, death itself. In the story, the character is in a conversation with Jesus. In this conversation, Jesus is trying to help the character understand what death really is. Jesus explanation goes like this:
“It’s a conversation with many layers, much of it not for today. For now, understand that a significant reason why you fear death is because of your atrophied and miniscule perception of life. The immensity and grandeur of life continually absorb and eradicate death’s power and presence. You believe death is the end, an event causing a cessation of things that truly matter; and therefore it becomes the great wall, the inevitable inhibitor of joy, love, and relationship. You see death as the last word, the final separation. The truth is death has only been a shadow of those things. What you call death is indeed a separation of sorts, but not anything like you imagine it. You have focused yourself and defined your existence with reference to the fear of that singular last-breath event rather than recognizing death’s ubiquitous presence all around you - in your words, your touch, your choices, your sorrows, your unbelief, your lies, your judgment, your unforgiveness, your prejudices, your power-seeking, your betrayals, your hiding. The ‘event’ of death is only one small expression of that presence, but you have made that expression everything, not realizing that you swim in death’s ocean every single day.” (Young, p. 67)
And then, it get’s really interesting. Jesus continues, “You were not designed for death, but neither was death intended for this universe. Inherent in the event of death is a promise, a baptism in this ocean that rescues, not drowns. Human beings uncreated life and brought that un-life into your experience, so out of respect for you, we wove it from the beginning into the larger tapestry. You now experience this underlying tension between life and death every day until you are released through the event of death, but you were designed to deal with its encroachment in community, inside relationship, not in self-centered isolation like your little place here.” (Young, p. 67)
You see, our fear is only powerful if we confront it alone, and we may very well know that. However, the other fabrics that come together in our tapestry of life work the same way. Our sin is only powerful if we confront it alone. In the case of our lives and our love, the work the same way, but in the opposite direction. Our lives only have power if we live with others. Our loves only have power when that love is shared.
Everything about us is overflowing with the underlying necessity for community. But this is the sunday of the Epiphany. So, you may be wondering where exactly I am going with this. Well, what is an epiphany? Well, in the sense that we are celebrating today, Epiphany refers to commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the magi. Yet, the meaning of the word goes deeper than that. Epiphany refers to a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.
An epiphany is an “aha” moment. It is important to note that the only thing that changes in an epiphany is our own understanding of it. The event, the realization is about something that has already been, but we are just realizing it.
The fabric of our lives, the one that is woven together in community, has always been woven together in the same way. The importance of the community in the formation of the tapestry has always been there, yet we don’t see it that way. We tend to think of community coming next. Man and woman were created and then the community was formed. Yet, I ask this morning, if maybe, just maybe, the community was there from the beginning and the existence of the community was necessary for the weaving together of the fabric of our lives.
If so, then we need to start living in that realization, in that recognition, in that epiphany. God created the world and everything in it. The recognition among the gentiles that Jesus has come for all mankind is an epiphany because God always intended creation to be for everyone. The love of God existed before history itself, and certainly before the physical birth of Jesus Christ. Our epiphany is that Christ is the fulfillment of the promise God made to all of creation. Our epiphany is that we not only all share in the gift but that we were all made from the fabric of that relationship. The relationship with God and the relationship with each other.
I want to mention here, that next week we will be celebrating a service that many of you may have never done and I am certain that I never have. This service will focus on the idea of covenant, and more specifically on the covenant we share with God and with one another. Part of the idea of covenant is that we are, by nature of being human and created by God, in covenant with God. Over this next week, I ask you to reflect on what it means to be in covenant with God and what it means to be in covenant with each other as a body of Christ, as a community of faith. Next week, when we join together for worship, bring those reflections with you so that as we pray together, we pray as a community, we pray in the hopes of weaving together a tapestry that will give new life to our church, to ourselves and to the mission of Christ on earth.
As we think and reflect this week, let us also realize how important we each are for the entire covenant. While we each make our own, each individual who enters makes the whole stronger. Coming to terms with this takes a lot of trust. It is not really in our nature to trust in that way, but for that we are here, for that we are created, for that we live in this time and in this place.
A covenant isn’t a magical promise that will ensure easy going. It will not guarantee that there are no more arguments among us nor will it guarantee that forgiveness will be easy. It is a promise we make to each other and to God. A promise that is made as we have each had our epiphanies. We promise to journey on, wherever God may lead us. It is about looking back, recognizing hurt, but also recognizing the healing that comes. It comes from the only place it truly can, from Christ.
Towards the end of the book I read there is a poem. I want to close this morning with that poem, and as a starting off point in our reflections throughout this week.

I met you at the crossing
Where one road finds another
I did not even ask your name
I would not even bother

I looked at only what I saw
And did not see you fall
And even though I said I loved
I hardly loved at all.

I didn’t mean to leave you there
It wasn’t my intent
I simply looked the other way
And said nothing I meant.

I didn’t choose to cross this road
Although it’s what I wanted
Instead pretended you weren’t there
Believed you never counted

Oh, see I have this golden chain
Tied round my throat and heart
A bond more real to me than you
Is keeping us apart

I need a Voice to answer me
I need Someone who’s true
I need new eyes that let me see
That in my me is You

O, Someone please now guide me cross
This road betwixt between
And join my broken bits of soul
To real that is unseen. (Young, p.268-269)

We have each been someone’s voice, and we have each failed to be someone’s voice. Our covenant brings us together to be the Voice to answer those who seek. Let this epiphany be our epiphany, the epiphany where we realize the truth God has set before us, the truth that until today, we could not see. And let this epiphany be the epiphany where our broken bits of soul are joined together to make real what we now can see together. Amen.




Young, Wm. Paul. Cross Roads. 1st ed. New York: Faith Words, 2012. Print.