In three of the four gospels, Jesus begins his ministry saying the same thing, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
Now, I bet if I were to ask you to define the word repent, I guess many of you would say it means - getting rid of your sins, or being more moral, stop doing bad things. For most of my life, repent was a scary word - fraught with shame and guilt and fear. It’s not our fault. Most of us were taught this at a very early age. The problem began way back when the Greek Bible was translated into Latin. St. Jerome translated the Greek word “Metanoia” as “due penance” which eventually evolved into the word repent. But is that what Jesus intended? I’m not a Greek scholar, but if we were to parse metanoia, we’d learn “meta” means “to go beyond” and “noia” means “mind.” The most literal way to translate this specific word Jesus uses would be to say “to go beyond your mind.” Which I have translated it as, “change your mind.” Instead of creating a fear-based action, Jesus begins by offering us invitations to transform ourselves to move beyond our limited thinking into something bigger and greater than ourselves…the Kingdom of Heaven. This is more than simply saying stop sinning. Instead, Jesus is saying put your focus where it ought to be so sinning is no longer a part of the equation. Jesus knows if you can go beyond yourself, to make it about God and not you, then not only will you be transformed but you will also participate in the transformation of others as well.
Which takes us to the second part of this reading, back to Andrew and Simon - the two brothers we met last week.
According to John’s gospel, the two first met Jesus by following after him. But here in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus comes to them. The men aren’t there to learn from John the Baptist, like we read last week. They are there to work, to fish. That’s what they do. They’re fishermen, like James and John and their father Zebedee, and all the others who are there hurling their nets into the sea. Fishing is something these guys are familiar with, something they could probably do with their eyes closed. That’s not to say casting a net doesn’t take a certain skillset. As a kid, I used to fish this way with friends. But our nets were single user for smaller catches. Their nets were large and required the hands of many to work right. It was like a rhythmic group dance. Once you got the hang of it, once everyone synced to that rhythm, the rest was pretty much routine. And leave it up to Jesus to interrupt their routine. He stands at the water’s edge and calls out to these guys in a way that might sound more like a joke than anything else. “Come with me, and I will make you a new kind of fisherman. I will show you how to catch men and women instead of perch and bass.” (The Message) I think most of us would have ignored this crazy call; pretending to be too busy with work to take him up on this job offer. But these four of those fishermen don’t. There’s something about Jesus that causes them to change their minds. As a result, Jesus will forever change the direction of their lives. Where traditional rabbis would sit around waiting for disciples to come to them, Rabbi Jesus goes out and finds his own. He sets his mind not on himself but on what God has called him to do - to go out into the world and usher in the kingdom of heaven. And where the other rabbis would pick from the brightest students at rabbinical school, Jesus goes to the docks, into everyday spaces, and selects ordinary people like you and me. I have no idea what made Jesus choose these four. Or what made them drop their nets and take this giant leap of faith. If my own experience means anything, there’s a great chance these guys were not ready or equipped for what Jesus was about to ask of them. The truth is, none of us are ready. That’s okay. Jesus does not stand on the shoreline collecting resumes or inquiring about their skillsets. He’s not walking the docks checking references, “because their personal history and qualifications don’t have the last word about their future.” He does. (Hoffacker) All that we are asked to do at this point is to change the way think by taking the focus off ourselves, off our worries and our fears, and set our gaze on the One who calls out to us. Jesus is the One who ushers in the kingdom of heaven. He is the One who invites us to participate. And he is the One who shows us what to do. It begins by simply follow him. Seeing what he does and going out to do just that. We don’t have to be the biggest, the brightest, or even the bravest. As we will see unfold in their early ministry, these brothers rarely get it right. Simon, who will become Peter, has a quick temper and will go on to betray Jesus. James and John are constantly conniving their way to the top despite Jesus repeatedly telling them that the kingdom way is not upward mobility, it’s downward. We don’t hear much more about Andrew after this. Maybe because he played it safe. Despite of their faults, Jesus invites them to become partners in his ministry. This tells me that we’re good enough to be in partnership with Christ who opens our eyes to see the Kingdom of Heaven all around us. (Hoffacker) When Christ opens our eyes, our hearts and minds will be forever changed, made anew to be like his. When we have the mind of Christ, we can’t help but love God, love others, and serve both. When we have the mind of Christ, we can’t help but be moved to make real changes and real differences in our lives and in the lives of others. When we have the mind of Christ, we can’t help but open our hands like he did - healing and transforming people and communities. When we think, and see, and feel, and love like Christ, we begin to understand why God has invited us to participate in this kingdom today. These four fishermen, and eight others, will walk away from family, friends and careers to be a part of this kingdom. By simply being with and around Jesus, they would come to discover this great truth: that God is love. Jesus calls us to follow him; to embrace and live out this love in all that we do. In accepting his invitation, we agree to love what God loves by being the light, the leaven, the salt, the small mustard seed of love. In Christ, like Richard Rohr writes, “God is changing the world. But to get everyone and everything there, God needs people who are willing to enter this kingdom and transform it into “life and life more abundantly” (John 10:10). Who among us will drop our nets, stop what we’re doing, to follow him there? WORK CITED Hoffacker, Charles. The Bible is Full of Beginnings. January 27, 2008 (accessed on January 19, 2023). Rohr, Richard. The Mind Does Not Like To Change. January 25, 2020 (accessed on January 19, 2023).
0 Comments
 As sad as it was for both me and my kids who had learned to drive on this beautiful machine, it was also happy and exciting knowing it meant something new was on the horizon.
The end of something is always the beginning of something else. Less than 48 hours later, we were zipping along in our new car. A joy I haven’t experienced in a very long time. Be it death, a change in career, or falling in love the paths we take on this journey of life will always move us into some kind of newness. Like Heraclitus famously said, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” I think that’s something that we ought to hold onto tightly as we pilgrim through new and wonderful spaces towards God’s heart.
In the summer of 1979, I got hired as a dishwasher at an Italian restaurant near my house. My boss, Frank, was a tough and intimidating man. He was raised on the streets of the South Bronx during a time when being a hoodlum was considered a vocation.
Set aside Evel Knievel and the Bionic Man, Frank was probably the first male figure I looked up to. He was certainly not the kind of teacher parents would want their children to have. In the five years I worked for him, I learned how to cuss more colorfully, how to think more dangerously, and how to survive on the streets more skillfully. Without even realizing it, Frank had made an indelible mark on my life. So much so that when I went off to college people would ask what part of New York I was from. (Note: I'm from the South) Here’s the thing, just as Frank taught me, someone taught Frank. We are all students. And we’re all teachers, absorbing and passing on the things we’ve learned whether we know it or not. In our reading from the gospel today, we see how this kind of teaching works. Read John 1:29-42 here The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!...And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Chosen One.” John 1:29-34
Once again the lectionary points us back to John the Baptist. People were going to the wilderness in droves to see what he’s all about. In the midst of the dunking and shouting, Jesus walks by. John points to him and yells, “There’s the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”
By his testimony we learn Jesus is the Son of God. He is the one to bring true restoration between God and creation. We might not have learned that had John not pointed it out to us. John is only teaching what God has made known to him. God tells John and John tells us. This is how teaching works. Knowledge moves from the teacher to the student who will go on to become teachers who will go on to testify to what they know. Now, as some of John’s students will learn, Jesus has more to offer than mere knowledge. This Lamb of God offers us true redemption. Which brings us back into the center of God’s heart. Andrew learns this first hand when Jesus invites him to come and see for himself.
This means we are a part of this great story. Which means at some point we must move from student to teacher; embracing and proclaiming God’s redemptive grace with our words and deeds.
Gerald Collins invites us to consider what might happen to the church if no one testified. "Would it become like the proverbial falling tree in the woods with no one to hear it fall?" Jesus knew if we don’t continue what he started then people might never know the unconditional, steadfast love of God, which made us and claimed us as God’s own beloved children. Josh Bowron reminds us that “The gospel requires people to proclaim and live it. If we don’t, society and culture will just swallow it up, because as we know, nature abhors a vacuum.If we don’t proclaim that God is love and, through Jesus Christ, has broken every bond and boundary and empowered us to do the same, culture will come in and teach us how to get and get and get, and how to use people as things.”
watch the message here
Jesus made if very clear that we are not called to be mere practitioners of our faith. We are to be ministers and teachers of it as well. Jesus knows that whenever we teach and testify to God’s glorious truth like John and Andrew did “the Holy Spirit brings light to where darkness has settled, love on the road where hate once traveled, and hope to the house where hopelessness once dwelled.” (Collins)
We are called to both learn and teach the Word because the Word alive in us. It’s a part of who we are. And what it means for us to love God, love others and serve both. We can’t lose sight of this - as individuals and as a church - because people are watching and listening to what we do and say. They are learning about God from us whether we know it or not. So, what are they learning from us? Better yet, what are we teaching? Are the things we say testifying truthfully to an all loving and all inclusive God? Or do they say something else? What about the things we do? Are they hospitable, kind, healing and life giving? Do they lift people up or knock them down? Jesus has entrusted us with his ministry, and his message. He tells us things like what comes out of our mouth matters more than what goes into it because our words come from our heart. The things we do, or don’t do, matter because those actions also begin in our heart. The heart is where God finds our truth because it’s in our heart where God has chosen to dwell in us. Diana Butler Bass writes, “Jesus invite his followers to come and dwell in him, even as he dwells in God. And as God has been made known through the works of love Jesus has done, so Jesus will continue to be known through the works of love the disciples will do.” Just as God’s heart is given to Christ. Through Christ, God shares with us. Now it’s our turn. So how can we live God’s heart, like Christ did, so others will want to come and see and know more? You could start with a smile. Or allow someone to go ahead of you in line. You could do a random act of kindness without expecting any recognition in return. You can begin by being present – listening instead of reacting. Or letting go of your ego and pride to lift up someone else’s self-worth. You can start big or small. It doesn’t matter. Just start. The world is hurting and hungry for what we can offer as the Body of Christ. St. Teresa of Avila said it best when she taught, “Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which to look out Christ’s compassion to the world; yours are the feet with which he is to go about doing good; yours are the hands with which he is to bless others now.” We are more than just people who show up for church to learn a nice lesson on how to live life. We are God’s beloved children called to teach God’s glory in all that we do. There will be some people who won’t understand why you are flashing your lights at them or why you’re all of a sudden being kind when they don’t deserve it. Every time you respond to a rude gesture with love, that is a teaching moment. One’s willingness to show Christlike love to someone who doesn’t deserve it, or to someone who desperately needs it, can make all the difference in the world to that person and to the community of Christ in general. The world is watching us. But will they want to join us? While Jesus invited Andrew to come and see, I hope this message encourages you to go and be. Go and be a living testimony to God’s glory in your life. Go and be “like John, like Andrew, like the uncountable cloud of witnesses to God’s gospel of love, justice, peace, and presence.” Go and be like Dr. King who took the Word of God to heart and understood its value to making the world a more just and equitable place. Go and be who God made you to be - blessed and beloved - like Christ, the Lamb of God who has taken away the sin of the world. Amen. Work Cited. Adapted from Ian Macdonald's sermon Teaching The Word. January 19, 2020. Bartlett, David L and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word, Year A Vol 1. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010) p.260. Bowron, Josh. Testimony. January 12, 2020 (accessed 01/16/2020). Butler Bass, Diana. Freeing Jesus. Rediscovering Jesus as Friend, Teacher, Savior, Lord, Way, and Presence. (New York: HarperOne, 2021). Collins, Gerald. A Witness To The Lamb of God. January 20, 2002 (Accessed on January 11, 2023)
For some reason we get this baptism story numerous times in the church calendar. But it’s only during Epiphany that I wonder why it took God so long to reveal this information about Jesus. I mean, given the historical data, many scholars believe this event took about 30 years after Jesus was born. So what happened in between? Why did God make us wait?
The gospel of Luke gives us a birth story and one quick glance of a precocious 12 year old holding an intense Q&A session with the Rabbis in the Temple. But that’s it. And Matthew skips over the birth to talk about some Magi coming to visit baby Jesus a year or two later. There are no stories about Jesus having weird emotional mood swings during puberty. Or him dealing with pimples and peer pressure. Nothing about Jesus’ parents totally embarrassing him. Or him trying to find the words to ask someone on a date. None of the gospels write about Jesus sulking in his bedroom wishing that “someone would just understand him.” And that’s probably a good thing. I think if we knew those stories, Jesus might come off as a little too human for our comfort. But he was human. And yet he was more than just a man. As he will discover, Jesus is also the manifestation of God’s love in the flesh. He would spend his short life revealing to himself, his community, and to us what that would entail. In his book “Lamb. The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal” author Christopher Moore offers us a great, satirical look at our young, recently bar-mitzvah Messiah. Part of the story focuses on him going on a spiritual quest to find out who he is, and his purpose in life. Not long into their journey, the two pals come across his crazy cousin John, who is screaming wildly into the heavens while drowning people in the river. The boys try to avoid him but can’t. Before he could resist, John grabs his cousin and pushes him underwater. While he’s fighting for air, the heaven open and God reveals these divine words to the world. “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” When the young boy comes up from under the water, everyone is starring at him, but no one will tell him why. He has to continue his mission in order to find out who he is, and who God made him to be. Although it’s satire, it does remind us that Jesus is like us. Which means we can be like him. Which means on any given day, God can tear open the heavens and reveal to the world who we really are: Beloved children. In whom, God is well pleased.
watch the message here
We don’t know what Jesus did up to this point to earn that title. I mean, what does one have to do for God to say this about you? Or does it take anything? Maybe we’re born beloved. And we just need to go out into the world to discover this truth for ourselves. Many years ago, my father and I were hiking in the Hollywood Hills. He had come out to visit with me because my personal life was falling apart. It was on that walk my father confessed he didn’t know how to help me because he had never experienced the dark pain of divorce. “But” he said, “you are my son, and I will stand by you no matter what.” His willingness to join me in my pain, change the course of our relationship forever. Here I was lost in a wilderness of despair. The Hollywood Hills was my Jordan River. The tears that flowed down my face were the waters of my baptism. And my father’s words echoed over the canyon, "You are my beloved." I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Talk about an epiphany! Charles Hoffacker writes, “On this special day of epiphany, we remember how Jesus declared solidarity with our sin and suffering by accepting baptism at the hands of John—not because he needed it, but because we needed him to be baptized for us...This baptism is a manifestation, not only of Christ but of the Trinity. Jesus is there in the river. The Spirit descends on him like a bird. The Father’s voice announces from heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Perhaps the gospel writers jump over the early years to teach us how it’s not our birth but our baptism that marks the beginning of our awakening. Or maybe they point us to the river so we’re not fixated on the human side of Jesus, but focused on his divine side, the part of him that draws us back to God’s heart. This is a part of him, that thanks to him, we are able to share with him. That part is God’s grace and love made manifest to the world. A part that reveals to us that we are God’s beloved. We don’t earn it, or buy it, or barter for it. It’s just given to us. No matter what! To add to that good news, we don’t have to be perfect to claim it. In fact, I would argue the less perfect we are the better it is, because it helps us understand and grasp the concept of God’s grace and deep affection for us. This gift frees to become a manifestation of that love, not by living Jesus’ story but by living our own in imitation of him.
Tarfon, a rabbi from a long time ago, makes this same point when he advised, “It is not up to you to complete the task. Nevertheless, you are not free to desist from it.” Because the thing is, God needs you and me, like God needed Jesus. Through us God’s love is made manifest in the world.
Jesus’ baptism is an epiphany moment in that it gives witness to the world that he belongs to God. Like Jesus will later tell his disciples, “They will know you belong to me by the way you love one another" (John 13:35). Love is our outward sign of our baptismal promise. As we continue on our pilgrimage journey may we never forget that by our own baptisms, we too are sealed into the body of Christ, confirming within ourselves who we are called to be - God’s beloved Sons and Daughters. Each one of us is given the same relationship with the Father that Jesus had. Each of us is given the same power of the Holy Spirit that emboldened Jesus to enter into our pain and enlighten us with truth. Each one of us bears the same responsibility to give of ourselves just as Jesus did. We each have a different story of the same love and grace we share. So let us out into the world as God’s beloved to continue Jesus’ earthly ministry; longing for the day we can hear our Lord say to us, "When I was hungry you fed me, when I was thirsty you gave me drink. When I was a stranger you let me in. When I was naked you clothed me. When I was sick you comforted me. And when I was in prison you visited me. For every time you do stuff like this in my name, I am well pleased.” Work Cited Adapted from a previous sermon My Father’s Voice Calling Out To Me. January 10, 2016. Hoffacker, Charles. Johnny Appleseed Christianity. January 2, 2023 (Accessed on 01-05-23). Willlimon, William. "Preaching Epiphanys." ChristianCentury, January 2014.
We all know it, or some version of it. Girl gets pregnant, but not by the guy who takes her to a barn in the middle of the night to deliver the baby. Some wisemen show up… they’re greeted by a bunch of shepherds singing Hallelujah with a choir of angles. And sometimes there’s a little boy pounding on a drum. Of the four gospels, only three mention the Christmas story. Each one tells their version of it, revealing who this baby truly is. The son of man, the son of God. The long-awaited Messiah. The one who will save his people from their sins. Luke’s version is the one we are probably most familiar with. It’s the one with the manger, the shepherds, and the angels. Instead of a birth story, Matthew gives us magi and some dramatic backstory to let his readers know the prophetic promise has been fulfilled. And then there’s John’s version. Anyone looking for the traditional will be sadly disappointed to learn that John doesn’t seem to care about Christmas carols, hot cocoa, or crabby old curmudgeons who have a change of heart. John’s version is different because John is different. He’s a theologian and mystic who speaks of the nativity from his understanding of ancient scripture, and the holy imagination of his prayers. Here’s how he tells it.
The same light from the first incarnation is present at the second. This is God’s light. The same one foretold by Isaiah’s prophetic vision. The light that shines on those who live in darkness.
This is the same holy light that broke through the night sky and grabbed the attention of the shepherds. The same wondrous light that illuminated the heavens and guided the magi to Christ. The very light that John declares, “was the life of everyone.” The light that began it all, is the light we honor tonight. For it’s in this light we are able to see God’s truth, enfleshed in the body of this holy baby. And the Word became flesh and lived among us - enlightening us and illuminating the world to see God’s grace and truth. In his light, no darkness can prevail. We all know what darkness is, and what it can produce in us. Years ago, I spent the night at my friend’s old warehouse apartment in downtown Los Angeles. Because he worked odd hours, he chose the bedroom with no windows. When I turned out the lights, it was so dark I literally couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I’m not going to lie, but I’m not a big fan of spaces that are void of light. They cause me great anxieties. Thankfully, just before I went into full blown panic mode, I noticed a small green glow coming off his laptop charger. I kept my eyes fixed on that light, as I felt my heart pound against my chest. I’m not sure how long it took, but eventually my eyes began to adjust. And I started seeing just enough for my heart to relax so I could fall asleep. We know darkness, and the anxiety and despair that comes with it. John and the others make sure to point our attention not to fields or fold, but to the heavens…to that one true bright Christmas light. The one that begins to shine —suddenly, quietly, but with absolute certainty. A light no darkness can overcome. This light might be small for some, and mighty for others. But in its glow is the mystery of God’s truth revealed. And the Word became flesh and lives among us. The longer we keep our eye on it, the more enlightened we become to what that means for you and me. So even though there are different versions of the Christmas story, they all point to the same visible, tangible divine light that illuminates our way to God. That light is Christ who breaks the darkness apart so we can begin to see God’s love and truth clearly for the first time - in real time, in real ways. In his light we can see and understand who we are. And who we were created to be - God’s beloved children. As God’s children, we are called to radiate like Christ in the varied ways we love God, love others, and serve both. John will later explain that we are given this light to help us see just how much God loves us. Because that’s the real Christmas story - God’s love for us. In Christ, God’s love is revealed by taking on human form in order to transform human hearts. He is the visible, tangible, flesh of God’s light and love. Through him we have been given the power to take our place in the infinite space where God’s never-ending light radiates. And the word became flesh and lived among us…For God so loved the world that God sent the Son - not to condemn us but to redeem us and return us to God’s holy and sacred heart. This is the Christmas story. This is our story. Each one of us will tell it differently, because we all come from different places. And different needs. But no matter how different we are, we are all given the same. The same light. The same love. The same saving grace that shines from God’s heart to yours and mine. This is the light of Christ. Whoever is guided by it will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life. "Now may God grant you the light in Christmas, which is faith; the warmth of Christmas, which is love the all of Christmas, which is Christ. Amen." Work Cited A special thanks to James Liggett whose sermon The Same Story inspired this sermon. Taylor, Barbara Brown. Home By Another Way. (Lanham: Crowley Publications, 1999). *Benediction by Wilda English
In his book, “Wild Pork and Watercress,” Barry Crump writes about a New Zealand orphan named Ricky who is placed in the home of two reclusive country folk named Bella and Hector.
Now, Ricky is an overweight boy who has always had trouble fitting in - be it at school or foster care. Bella is a kind and loving soul who accepts him for who he is and instantly welcomes Ricky as her own. And Hector is nothing like Bella. He is a cantankerous old bushman who know more about hunting than raising a kid. After a bit of adjusting, things start to go well for Ricky until Bella unexpectedly dies. That’s when Child Protective Services decides it would be better for the boy to return to the orphanage than to count on Hector to look after him. Well, Ricky doesn’t like this plan. And runs away into the wilderness, forcing Hector to go and find him before the others do. This ultimately sparks a national manhunt for the two, who for next three years learn how to survive in the wilderness together, feasting on wild pork and watercress…and forming an unbreakable bond. Now, Hector didn’t have to go after Ricky or take him under his wing. He could have easily turned the boy in instead of putting his own life in jeopardy. But for some reason, he showed up. And something completely unexpected happened that would alter the course of their lives forever. We get a similar story today from the gospel of Matthew 1:18-22
Once every three years, the lectionary puts the spotlight on Joseph. And this always surprises me. Because we’re not used seeing Joseph as one of the main characters in the big Christmas story, are we?
Believe it or not, but I have never preached on this text before. At the previous churches I’ve served, the Sunday before Christmas is always reserved for the children’s Christmas pageant. And we all know who the star is of that production: Mary and her baby. Not Joseph. Joseph Pagano muses, “While we’ve all probably heard plenty of stories of little girls who were disappointed because they didn’t get to play Mary in the Christmas pageant, there are fewer stories of little boys who felt slighted because they didn’t get to play Joseph.” Wiseman and donkeys, maybe, but never Joseph. He’s always the guy in the background. “Which is often the case for the stepfather,” as my friend Beverly points out. “They tend to be secondary players or background extras. Rarely the star.” Now I have no idea what it’s like to be a stepfather. Nor do I know what it’s like to have one. But I know many who have stepped up to the plate to adopt or raise someone else’s child – loving them as their own. One person was John Kraft, the husband of Rev. Dawn. Although John never pretended to be Alex’s father, he was there – with an open heart and open arms. One year, Alex gave John a keychain for his birthday that said, “Thank you for being the dad you didn’t have to be.” I like to imagine Jesus doing the same for Joseph, who may not have been in the spotlight but was an important part of the cast – being the loving dad he didn’t have to be. At first, it seems like Joseph didn’t want the responsibility. Set aside being the stepfather to the Son of God, I’m not sure Joseph saw it as good news when he learn his girlfriend is pregnant – and the baby isn’t his. I imagine he felt hurt, humiliated, disappointed, and angry. I doubt his first thought was “I should step up and raise this kid as my own.” Although Joseph was an ordinary, everyday man, no different than any one of us, Matthew tells us he was also a righteous man. Meaning he loved God and tried to follow God’s law. According to scripture, Joseph had every right to publicly accuse Mary of adultery, which under the law carries the death penalty. But instead, Joseph chose the other legal option, a more righteous one. Divorce her privately to spare this young girl of any danger, and himself any disgrace. As a righteous man, Joseph knows God is merciful and just. Why should he be any different? It’s when he makes this resolve that something extraordinary happens. “An angel of the Lord comes to Joseph in a dream; telling him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, “for the child conceived in her womb is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Now, let’s take a moment to think about how you would react if this happened to you? What would you do if God gave you a divine revelation, in a dream no less. I’m pretty sure even I would wake up questioning its validity. Not Joseph. He did exactly as the angel of the Lord commanded. He could have said, “no thanks,” and just moved on with his life. But like Hector running after Ricky, Joseph put someone else’s needs before his own. He showed up and became the unlikely hero in this story - a dad he didn’t have to be. Because he showed up, God wasn’t going to let Joseph screw it up. Together they work behind the scenes to make sure this dream becomes a reality. Their son will grow up and redeem the world.
watch the message here
What can Joseph’s story teach us today?
Simply this: show up for God with all your imperfections and brokenness, with all your questions, and doubts. God doesn’t need perfect to do miracles through. Just our willingness to show up and sow the seeds of love, so the fruits of love will grow. How do we react when we see suffering or injustice in the world? Or a neighbor in need of friendship and a compassionate ear? We do what Joseph did. We do what Jesus did. We do what so many others before us have done. Trust God enough to be a conduit for God’ love to pass through. All we have to do is take that first, faithful step out into Anamesa, and God will do the rest. Since God always leads with love, we can always show up in the many ways we show love. Love is what the entire Christmas story is about. God so loved the world that God became one of us to make love tangible and real. Christmas was not a one time event. Or an annual celebration with gifts. Like Mother Teresa discovered, “It’s Christmas every time you let God love others through you.” To say that differently, we are called to honor Christ’s birth every day in the many ways we show up to love God, love others, and serve both. God’s love moves through us every time we show up - providing food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, clothes for the naked. God’s love moves through us every time we show up - to be a parent to orphans, and a child to widows. God’s love moves through us every time we show up - demanding justice, righting wrongs and ensuring equality to all. It’s through all the ordinary and meaningful acts of loving kindness that we participate in the coming reign of God. With God’s never ending love flowing through us, we become like the Christ child, illuminating the light of hope and peace and joy and love in every space we enter. As Frank Logue wrote, “Not everyone one of us will be asked to do such a monumental task like Joseph was. But we will no less take part in what God is doing; bringing divine love into fruition, through ordinary acts and ordinary people like you and me.” All we got to do is show up, and let God do the rest. Work Cited Logue, Frank. Participating in God’s Plan. December 11, 2022 (December 14, 2022). Pagano, Joseph. The Faith of Joseph. December 22, 2013 (accessed on December 14, 2022).
I think we can all agree that faith is a 24/7 job, one we often fail at. Lucky for us it’s not our faith that saves us but God’s faith in us. Like the painter who risks it all to keep the bridge free from corrosion and harm, God through Christ works tirelessly around the clock to do the same for us.
As we continue our pilgrimage towards the Christmas crèche, God remains faithful to us. Becoming incarnate in the Christ child who will dedicate every second of his life to make our faith come to life. This is a tough job for sure, but one that secures the world for all eternity.
Joy is a short but powerful word. One that is often equated with happiness. But here’s the thing, in the English Standard Version of the Bible, words like “joy,” “rejoice,” or “joyful” appear about 430 times, compared with “happy” or “happiness,” which appear only ten times.
Happiness lives in the head. It’s fleeting, in that it comes and goes depending on your experience or mood. Joy is different. It’s permanent. It lingers deep within our hearts whether we feel it or not. I think that’s because it’s not our joy, but God’s joy in us. So, we light this candle to remind us that no matter how difficult life might seem, we can find joy knowing that Jesus is our Emmanuel, which means, God with us. Last week, we met John the Baptist by the sandy banks of the Jordan River and learned about his baptism of repentance. That is to say, to change our thinking so we change our seeing and doing to be inline with God’s way and not our own. Today, the lectionary takes us back to that familiar face but in an unexpected place. As we think about what we are to look for, let us open our hearts to hear what the Gospel of Matthew has to offer. (Read: Matthew 11:2-11 here)
For the last six years or so, I have been corresponding with someone who’s serving a 15-year sentence in a federal prison. Every 4-6 weeks I’ll get a letter telling me about his prison ministry classes, and how he’s trying to keep his head straight. My replies are often quick notes telling him what’s going on in my life, and to let him know I am praying for him. Occasionally I’ll send a sermon or two to give him something to read.
Over the years, he’s never asked for anything outside getting some of our mutual friends to write him. As far as I know, I am the only one outside his family who stays in touch with him. In the first century, prison wasn’t that much different than it is today. It was a way station where one awaited trial where they’d be exonerated, exiled, or executed. The big difference between then and now was: taxpayers didn’t foot the bill. Prisoners relied on family and friends to bring food, water and blankets and stuff. This is what the followers in John’s Redemptive Movement were doing when they brought their teacher the latest news about the Messiah. We don’t know what they told him, but whatever it was it rattled John enough to send them out to see if Jesus was the real deal like he’d proclaimed. Now, imagine if you were the one being sent on this mission. How would you know what to look for? Someone walking on water, or turning water into wine? Or someone who looked like a warlord or Marvel action hero? Most people who encounter Jesus were regularly confused about who he really was, because Jesus was like no other. And rarely was he what they thought to expect. Given their question, I think John’s disciples were no different. This makes me wonder how well we’d do at identifying the Messiah today. In our post 9/11 world, what would we do if we saw 13 homeless middle eastern men roaming around our neighborhood? I’m sure our first instinct would be to call the cops. And not risk everything to follow them. So, how will we know? What do we look for? Today’s text gives us some very clear indications. Matthew reminds us that we can always tell the authenticity of a person, not by what they say, or wear, or what titles they have…but by the fruit they produce. Or you can do what John’s disciples did. They just straight up asked Jesus directly, “Are you the one we’re looking for?” And Jesus, God bless his patience, answers their question by echoing Isaiah, the prophet who had paved the way for how Israel would find healing and restoration. You will know the Messiah when the blind regain sight, when people look at things in whole new ways. You will know when the lame walk, and those who play to their victimhood are no longer cripple by it. When the lepers and marginalized are restored and honored. When those who are stone deaf to accepting God’s love begin to hear and find grace. When people who we consider morally and spiritually dead become alive to their Christ-conscious self. And my favorite, you will know the Messiah when the poor have good news proclaim to them. [Rohr] Whenever and wherever you see these fruits, you will know the one sent by God. It’s no surprise that many of us have trouble finding Christ, muchless seeing him in our midst, because like Richard Rohr points out, “more often than not, we’re looking for the wrong messiah.” Just as John’s disciples were probably looking for a military leader to overthrow the Roman Empire and restore Israel’s place in the world, we want someone who will single us out and put us on the top because “we all want to be on the top.”
a little audio trouble for two minutes of intro
But here’s the thing, like Irene Maliaman notes, “Jesus is not this kind of savior. He did not come with military might or wealth. His way of saving the world is through soft power – sacrificial and loving service.” We tend to “reject the Jesus of the gospels and look for another version of the Messiah that fits our lifestyle and ideology.”
We want to be right, we want to be the one’s God blesses. We don’t want to share the space, we want it all for ourselves. Each of us has an expectation about the kind of Savior we want. But rarely is he the one we always expect. And this as good news! Turning to those listening, Jesus asks them about John the Baptist. “What did you go out to the desert to find? A reed shaken by the wind?” Now, Jesus isn’t talking about a plant but a person whose opinions bend and sway according to the latest tweet or trend. “What did you come to see? Someone dressed in soft robes. Someone who lives in a palace.” Jesus says you won’t find the Messiah there. If you want to see the one sent by God, Rohr argues, “Don't look up. Look down. Don't look at the center and the top. Look at the edge and the bottom.” Scripture makes it very clear that the Messiah heals and restores from the bottom up. He isn’t showing up for the rich. They can take care of themselves. Instead he comes to the poor, the outcast, the rejected. If you want to find Christ, this is a great place to start. Folks like Saint Francis, Mother Teressa, Martin Luther King understood this; meeting Christ in the poor, and the dying, and in the ones suffering from injustice, violence, and oppression. Matthew makes it abundantly clear that you will find the incarnate Christ down among the one’s we overlook, ignore, and avoid. Even Jesus confirms “Among those born of women, there are none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the Kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” But this is what you need need to remember. Just as you will find Christ among those crying out for help, so too will you find him in the one doing the helping. For wherever you see his fruits, you will know the one sent by God. And that includes you and me. We are the one’s God sends out into the world today to open eyes, lift up the lame, heal the lepers, raise the dead, preach good news. For it’s the Christ within us who is moved to meet the Christ in others. As we make our pilgrimage through Anamesa towards God’s love and grace, the Holy Spirit will lead us down the path less traveled, where others are to scared to go. Whenever we move into the unknown, we tend to keep our eyes open; alert and awake to all that surrounds us. In the space between each step we take on this pilgrimage, we know what to look for. Christ blessing the immigrants at the border; forgiving murders and thieves in prison; holding the hands of junkies and addicts in detox; loving the LGBTQ+ community on the dance floor. If this isn’t good news proclaimed to those who have been pushed down or marginalized, then I don’t know what is. Whenever and wherever you see love and mercy and grace being given, you see and meet Christ. When your heart is moved to follow his way, then you know that God has called you too, to be little messiahs, bringing hope, peace, and joy among the nations. So, as we continue our sacred pilgrimage, let us go forward, with our eyes open and our hearts singing, “Joy to the world, the Lord has come. Let earth receive her king.” Work Cited: Bartlett, David L., Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word: Year A, Vol. 1. (Westminster John Knox: 2010) Maliaman, Irene. Expectations. December 5, 2011 (Accessed on December 10, 2022). Rohr, Richard. The Qualities To Look For. December 14, 2012 (Accessed on December 10, 2022). Today I received an email from a very dear friend who is going through tough time. To say it’s a rather difficult period of his life wouldn’t do it justice. He’s been this way for as long as I have known him. Despite his inner darkness, he has shown me the light in so many ways. He is not only a friend, but a brother. Not just a student but a teacher. Not a nobody, but a very special someone who has inspired me to love on a deeper level, and to allow myself to live into my truth and be vulnerable. He doesn’t not judge me unfairly, or perhaps not at all. He saves that only for himself. While he is trapped in his emotional prison, he has freed me. He told me once that not having me in his life would be like missing a finger. Not having him in my life would be like missing a foot. He always keeps me balanced, and on all ten of my toes. In response to his letter, I wrote him these words that I think all of us need to hear.
Never forget that everyone feels one of these, if not all of these, at some period in life. This list is not exhaustive. Nor is it static. It grows as we continue to add ourselves, our pain, our negative beliefs to the list. Yet no matter how much it grows, not matter how may adjectives and layers of our emotional baggage we bring, one thing remains constant and sure. The perfect image of God, for which by some divine mystery, includes you and me and everyone else. If God is love, then so are we. No matter what.
Advent is a time to wander down many different pathways to the meet the Christ child. Each week we’re given a new road to meander down that draws us nearer to that sacred space. Each of these pathways is a different opportunity to discover something new about who we are.
So, Where Do We Begin. I suspect it will be different for all of us. That’s okay. Like Emerson said, it’s the journey that matters. It’s taking the first step that leads to the next. With each step forward, we discover life is no longer the same as it used to be. Like a stream, it’s always flowing and always different every second of every moment. What’s important to remember is it’s how we find ourselves and grow closer to God in these steps we take that matter the most. Years ago, I met a man in the city square of Iquitos, a small Peruvian town settled along the Amazon River. It was my first time there, and his first time back since he and two college friends hiked the infamous Inca Trail in the late 70's. I have heard many stories from people who have taken this ancient pilgrimage to the sacred ruins of Machu Picchu. But never had I heard one like his. His story began in a bar where, over a few drinks with the locals, he expressed his desire to see this place which is considered one of the seven greatest marvels of the world, Back then trains didn’t drop you off at the foot of the mountain. And there were no buses to take up to the pilgrimage site. To get there you had to hike the legendary pilgrim trail which is part of the 23,000 kilometers network of pathways that vein through the Andes Mountain range. While these guys were hoping for a guide to show them the way, all they got was a hand-drawn map sketched on the back of a cocktail napkin. Things may have been different in the 70’s, but I’m not sure I would entrust my life to something so vulnerable and susceptible to the elements like a napkin. These guys did. It wasn’t until they watched their train disappeared into the dark wilderness that they questioned their judgement. With no other way out, they took the first step up the steep mountainside. Every step he took was a step into truly the unknown. For five hours they hiked in silence, too scared to talk. Just as he was about to suggest they turn around, they reached the first set of ruins drawn on the napkin. There they set up camp. While sleeping under a canopy of stars that night, he realized this was no longer a trip, but a journey that would forever change him. Our wilderness adventure doesn’t start in a bar, but along the sandy banks of the Jordan River where we meet a man the late Rachel Held Evans described as, “that crazy guy you go out of your way to avoid in the Walmart parking lot.” I like to think of John as that stranger in the bar, giving us a map for our pilgrimage. Anyone who chooses to take this trip needs to pay attention to what he has to say and not be distracted by how crazy it sounds. Because John is leaving us little places to stop and ponder the deeper meaning of life. What he had to say would change the world forever. READ: Matthew 3:1-12 n those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight....“I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
Like I said last week, text without context will often get us in trouble. So, here’s what we know.
The son of a temple priest, John was a good Jewish boy who followed his father’s footsteps. At some point, he abandoned the temple for the wilderness where he lived only on what God provided, wild honey and locusts. John also gave up the ceremonial purification pools of the temple in exchange for the wild, flowing waters of the Jordan where he preached a baptism of repentance. Today, we understand repentance as an act of sincere regret. It’s a way to show remorse so forgiveness and healing can happen. Back then, to repent was less about being sorry and more about changing your thinking. The idea is if one begins to think differently, then one will also start to act and live differently. To repent is to have a new mindset, and for Christ followers it helps us to be more aware that our actions are out of step with God’s dream for all creation. We know this because Jesus also began his ministry saying, “Repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Like his cousin, Jesus will dedicate his life to show us how to reconnect with God, by changing the way we look at the world and how we interact in it. To repent is a good place for us to start our pilgrim journey. It reorients our heart and mind to follow God’s will instead of our own. But there’s more to John’s story. He was out in the wild baptizing people because that’s a part of what priest do, they purified and prepared people to enter the temple. You might have been baptized with a little water poured over your head as a baby. Or perhaps full submersion as an adult. Like Richard Rohr notes, "water doesn’t really change a person." It’s just a ritual, an outward sign of an inward promise. John knows water doesn’t change your heart, your mind, or actions. Real baptism, as he points out, comes from Christ who baptizes “with the Holy Spirit and Fire.” Again, this text needs context.
watch it if you don't feel like reading any further
John gives us an allegory, and unless you’ve worked threshing wheat, then you might be tempted to think this is a scare tactic to avoid the eternal fires of hell.
That’s one way of looking at it. A human way which doesn’t seem to fit God’s way. God is not quid pro quo – do this or else. Revenge is not love. And anything that isn’t love isn’t from God. Another way of looking at these verses is to see the fire like a refiner’s fire – one used to cleanse and purify precious metals. Isn’t that what the Holy Spirit does? Like John, it prepares the way for us to meet God by removing our impurities. As the text suggests, the Holy Spirit doesn’t use water. It uses an axe and fire. Again, context is key. In our front yard, we have a tree that has the world’s best avocados. But it doesn’t do it on its own. I water it, prune it, care for it, and give it the attention it needs to produce its delicious fruit. In the same way, it’s the Spirit’s job to prune away the parts of us that no longer bear good fruit in the kingdom of heaven. Those things are tossed into a fire…and transformed into something good for the world, like heat to cook a meal. If we are to bear the fruit of God’s peace, then we need to remove the things that keep us from doing what God has called us to do – which is love one another. We might all start this journey in different phases of life, but we all start from the same place. In the wilderness of life, surrounded by chaos and distractions that try to steal our peace. Out here, we’re constantly being tempted and led astray from God. Although we might know how to read the stars, or forage for food, we can’t rely on our own selves to keep on the right path. We need the Holy Spirit to lead us and guide us in God’s way of seeing, thinking, and doing. St. Paul tells the churches in Galatia to “live by the Spirit and you will not gratify the desires of flesh” (Galatians 5:16) because Paul knew that when we live by the Spirit, we produce the fruits of the Spirit. With the Spirit of Love growing in us, we can produce peace instead of war. Joy instead of sorrow. Kindness instead of hatred. Gentleness instead of pettiness. Self-control instead of rage. We become more patient. More generous. More faithful. John paved the way for Christ who, in all the ways he showed God’s love would change the world forever. It was Christ who gave us the Spirit so we can go and do the same. If we listen with an open heart, we can still hear John’s voice crying out in our wilderness; calling us to wake up and come clean; “to turn around from the old way we do things, so we don’t miss out on seeing the new thing God is doing right before our eyes.” (Taylor) As we wait for the Christ child to break into our world and longing, and redirect our pathway back to the open heart of God, we must remain awake and present to the Spirit of Love, the very presence of Christ within us all. By this Spirit we can tune our ear to the voices crying out for mercy. We can touch the hands in need of human tenderness. We can forgive those who have love inside them but don’t yet know it. As we move through the space we call Anamesa, may we always bear the fruits of the Spirit, walking in-step with the saints who’ve walked this pathway before us – bringing the light of hope and illuminating God’s peace into the darkest corners of the world. Therefore, go and start your journey in whatever space we’re in right now, singing from your heart, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Work Cited Evans, Rachel Held. Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church. (Nashville: Nelson, 2015). Rohr, Richard. The Two Tasks. December 14, 2019 (Accessed on December 1, 2022). Taylor, Barbara Brown. Home By Another Way. Rowman & Littlefield, 1999. |
Copyright © 2011