What's the Hurry?

"Immediately" is one of the most-used words in the gospel of Mark. Everyone seems to hurry in that text! Why would that be the case? I have a few suggestions in this sermon. Should we be in a hurry for something, too?

“The time has come, and the kingdom of God is right here! Repent, and believe the good news!” Those are the first words that we hear Jesus speak in the gospel of Mark. They are nothing less than an introduction to Mark’s entire gospel! In those words, Mark introduces three themes that he will weave together just like someone might knit together different colors of yarn into a scarf. First, we don’t have to wait any longer for the kingdom of God, because it’s right here right now (and that’s the good news!). Second, the time has come for us to leave the old to behind so that something new can take its place. And third, repentance is a vital part of our being able to fit into God’s kingdom. But Mark doesn’t explain all these things by talking about them. He doesn’t make us sit through long sermons like those we read in the gospel of John. No, in his gospel, Mark shows us God’s kingdom.

And he doesn’t waste any time in doing it. In the very next scene, Jesus begins to show us what the kingdom of God looks like. It’s a new community that won’t be made up of just the rich and famous. Donald Trump might be in it; but so will the guy who washes his car and the lady who cleans his bathroom. Regular people like you and me will be in the middle of it! And so Jesus calls four very ordinary men to be his first disciples: Peter, Andrew, James, and John. We all know what Jesus says to them: “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men!”

Now, Jesus isn’t just offering them a new job. This isn’t just one more task to work into their already busy schedule. If that were the case, I can imagine Peter asking, “When am I going to have time to fish for people? I already have more than I can handle fishing for fish!  A week from Tuesday, maybe I can do that. Let me check my calendar and get back to you.” No, on the contrary, Jesus is offering these men a whole new identity! They won’t be fish-fishers any more. Now they’re going to be people-fishers. In the kingdom of God, we don’t just have new jobs; we are completely new people!

Did you notice that all of the men Jesus calls respond to his offer? In fact, they hardly stop to think about it! They follow him “euthus.” That’s the Greek word for “immediately.” Mark loves that word “euthus”! In fact, he uses it over 40 times in his gospel. The other gospels don’t use it nearly that much. It only shows up seven times in Matthew’s gospel; three times in John’s gospel; and Luke only uses it once! But Mark uses it all the time. He likes the word “immediately” so much that he uses it an average of once every 16 verses throughout his gospel. Readers get tired of reading it, and so many Bibles don’t translate it the same way every time it appears. In some places, people do respond “immediately.” But in others, they respond “at once,” “without delay,” or “as soon as.” Sometimes, the translators even leave the word out all together! That wouldn’t make Mark happy at all. He uses “immediately” like an alarm clock ringing over and over again, urging us to take action! Mark doesn’t want us to just think about following Jesus; he wants us to do something about it right now!

But there seems to be a problem. In his very first words, Jesus calls us to “repent.” I don’t see anybody repenting in this scene. I see four men responding to an interesting offer that Jesus extends to them; but are they repenting? Actually, they are. To see it, though, we have to understand what “repentance” meant in Jesus’ day. In Jewish tradition, to “repent” didn’t necessarily mean to be sorry for something. The Hebrew word that means “to repent,” “shuv,” literally means to turn around. Repenting simply means changing your behavior. Now, when you do that, you’re frequently sorry for what you have done before. But repenting isn’t really about guilt and shame; it’s about changing. When Jesus calls us to repent, he doesn’t want us to put on sackcloth, sit in a pile of ashes, and beat our breasts in remorse. When Jesus calls us to repent, he wants us to change!

Did these four first disciples change? They sure did! When they walked after Jesus, they left behind a life that was familiar and comfortable, and they began a one that was new and uncertain. They didn’t know what they would be doing as people-fishers. They learn that, along with the reader, as they progress through Mark’s gospel. The only thing that they know when they respond to Jesus’ offer to follow is that their lives will never be the same again. We know that from what they left behind.

To begin with, Peter and Andrew left their nets behind. Now, those nets were the tools of their trade as fish-fishers. In Jesus’ day, fish weren’t caught with fishing poles, but with huge nets. No one could be a fish-fisher without a net. But as people-fishers, they wouldn’t need those nets anymore. They would need completely new tools! They would need compassion, humility, and courage. They wouldn’t be dragging in fish by force, but attracting people with love and mercy. Those nets were what they knew how to use, but they needed to leave them behind.

We see James and John leaving even more. First, they leave their father Zebedee. They leave behind their family and their tradition for something completely new! Now, there was nothing wrong with that tradition. It had raised them, nurtured them, and formed them into fine young men. But they left it behind when Jesus offered them something new; and they never even looked back. When the new arrives, we have to leave the old behind.

They left something else, too. They left their boats. I think that those boats represent more than just the tools of their trade as fish-fishers. Those boats are a symbol of the security that they had enjoyed. After all, their boats had kept them safe when they were catching fish on the Sea of Galilee. When the waters became choppy, those boats carried them safely to shore. They would have kept their boats in the best repair, just as we are careful to take care of our cars. By walking away from those boats, they walked away from the security of the life that they had always known.

When we look at the actions of these four men from the perspective of what they left behind – tradition, security, and the tools of their trade – it seems remarkable that they responded so quickly! They followed Jesus immediately! And they didn’t follow because of a glitzy sales pitch that Jesus gave them. He didn’t flash four tickets to the Super Bowl and a reservation at the local Hilton Hotel, and say, “This will be yours if you only follow me!” No, he simply said, “Follow me and I will make you people-fishers.” What was so attractive about that offer that those first disciples responded immediately?

Mark’s gospel doesn’t tell us, of course, but my own guess is that Jesus’ reputation had preceded him. They knew Jesus as the man who was talking about the kingdom of God. More than just talking about it, he was announcing that it was right here, right now! And everyone knew what the kingdom of God was going to be – a time when the hate and violence and brokenness of the world would disappear to be replaced by love and peace and healing. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that? And so, when Jesus offered these four fish-fishers an apprenticeship in people-fishing in the kingdom of God, maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that they followed him immediately.

Of course, Jesus had some education to do with them. In the first chapters of Mark’s gospel, he shows his disciples what the kingdom of God really looks like. We’ll get to that next week. In the meantime, it’s important to remember that Jesus is still offering us the very same thing that he offered his first disciples – an opportunity to be people-fishers in God’s kingdom. We know how they responded. Will we respond that way, too? Will we repent by immediately turning around and changing our ways? Will we leave our old nets behind and learn new tools of the trade? Will we move beyond the way that we’ve always done things and open ourselves to the guidance of the Spirit? Will we take a risk and follow Jesus into the uncharted territory of God’s kingdom? Are we ready to stop thinking about the kingdom and follow Jesus into it right away?

“The time has come! The kingdom of God is right here! Repent, and believe the good news!” Maybe we should follow Jesus – immediately!

Beginnings

This year, my sermons will concentrate on texts from the gospel of Mark. Mark begins not with Jesus' birth, but with his baptism. Why do you suppose that is? This sermon might give you an answer.

Some of you might wonder now and then (maybe when you can’t get to sleep at night) how I choose the scripture texts for my sermons. I don’t have one method that I use all the time; but for the most part, I preach from the lectionary. Now, some of you may not know what a lectionary is. A lectionary is just a list of scripture readings for each occasion of worship in the Christian year. The lectionary that I use – the Revised Common Lectionary – supplies four scripture readings for each worship service: an Old Testament reading, a text from Psalms, a New Testament reading, and a text from one of the gospels. My lectionary is on a three-year cycle. With respect to the gospels, all the readings are from Matthew in the first year (Year A). In the second year (Year B), the gospel texts are from Mark; and in the third year (Year C), Luke supplies the readings. The gospel of John appears mostly during Lent and after Easter of all three years.

Right now, we are in Year B of the lectionary cycle. That means that the gospel readings for this year will come mostly from the gospel of Mark. Now, I want to say just a word about Mark. If you ask a random sample of church-goers what their favorite gospel is, most people won’t respond with Mark. Mark just doesn’t have the pizzazz that the other gospels do! For example, Luke is chock-full of parables; Matthew gives us the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount; and John paints the beautiful picture of the Word made flesh! But Mark’s gospel isn’t really very distinctive. In addition, it is very short, with only 16 chapters. 6 of those chapters take place during Holy Week. That leaves only 10 chapters for Mark to tell us about all the rest of Jesus’ life! Besides, most of the material in Mark’s gospel is also in Matthew and in Luke. Many scholars believe that Luke and Matthew copied whole chunks of Mark when they were writing their own gospels.

So why do we even bother with the gospel of Mark? One very important reason is that it was the first gospel that was written. Mark wrote his gospel only about 35 years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, just as the apostles were dying of old age. The stories that they told about Jesus were in danger of dying right along with them. So Mark wrote his gospel in order to pass on the stories about Jesus to future generations of Christians. We certainly don’t want to lose the very first gospel that the early church used! But an even better reason to take Mark seriously is that Mark wrote his gospel to teach and encourage early Christians in their faith. It can do the very same thing for us, if we will let it. Its very structure is like the faith journey of a new believer in Jesus as the Messiah. In chapters 1 through 8 we are introduced to Jesus; and we watch him teach and heal and perform miracles. In chapter 9, we see him transfigured, and we realize that this man is more than just a miracle-worker. In chapters 9 and 10, we learn what we are called to do as Jesus prepares for his crucifixion and resurrection. In chapter 11, we watch him ride into Jerusalem and reject the religious establishment through cleansing the Temple; and we learn about the coming kingdom of God. And when the gospel ends with Jesus’ resurrection, we come face to face with the question “Will we tell anyone about what we have heard and seen?” We’re not that different from Mark’s original readers, are we? So during this year, we’re going to become very good friends with his gospel. We’re going to examine it, and we’re going to invite it to examine us. We might be surprised at what we’ll find there!

Like everything else, Mark’s gospel has a beginning. But it doesn’t begin where we expect it to. Mark doesn’t say anything at all about Jesus’ birth. He doesn’t tell us about angels or shepherds or Bethlehem or a star or the wise men. No, those stories are in Luke and Matthew. Instead, Mark begins his gospel with Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River. Now, Mark could have skipped all that and started with what is now verse 14 of the first chapter: “Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God.” After all, that’s what Mark’s gospel is, God’s good news as shown in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. But Mark started with Jesus’ baptism. Why would he have done that? What kind of beginning is baptism, anyway? Maybe it’s worth a look.

The simple answer is that baptism marks the beginning of a life in a community of faith. Baptism is the sacrament that celebrates a person’s entrance into a particular Christian community, as well as into the Christian church as a whole. That’s why the very first question that I ask anyone who wants to become a member of our congregation is “Have you been baptized?” Now, don’t misunderstand me. Anyone is welcome in this church, whether they have been baptized or not! But making a commitment to a church first requires a commitment to Jesus Christ. Baptism is the public sign of that commitment. But there’s more to baptism than just the first step to church membership. Baptism is a lot more than just learning a membership oath and a secret handshake so that you can join the Loyal Order of Water Buffalo. Anyone in the early church would have known that baptism isn’t just the start of life in a faith community; it’s the start of a completely new life! Mark’s description of Jesus’ baptism gives us a picture of what that new life looks like.

First off, God acknowledges us as his beloved children. When Jesus came up out of the waters of baptism, he heard a voice from heaven saying, “You are my Son, whom I love. I am so pleased with you!” God said that to Jesus; and he says it to each one of us, too. We tend to forget that. It’s easy to remember that we are God’s creations, made in the beginning with all the rest of the cosmos – grasshoppers and galaxies, salamanders and stars, planets and puppies. But because of the mess that we’ve made of things in our world, it’s easy to forget that we are also God’s children. Our baptism reminds us that we are not just creations of God, but children of God; and that, despite all the messes that we make of our lives and of the world around us, God is pleased with us.

Because our baptism means that we are God’s children, it also means that we are invited to live our lives in God’s presence. When Jesus was baptized, the heavens were “torn open,” and God’s presence was available to us in a new way. The same thing happens to us. The heavens are “torn open” at our baptism, too! When we are baptized, God is present with us in a new way. Our baptism reminds us that nothing – not sin, or mistakes, or limitations, or gender, or race, or creed, or color, or anything in all creation – can ever separate us from the presence of God.

And our baptism means that we are filled with the Spirit. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean that we speak in tongues, or deliver prophecies, or have powers of healing. Some people do those things; and we know that they are the Spirit’s doing. But most of us don’t do anything special. We follow Jesus the best that we can, we try to love our neighbors as ourselves, and we show compassion to those who need it. Who do we think leads us in doing that? We couldn’t do any of those things without the guidance of the Holy Spirit who filled us at our baptism and continues to fill us throughout our lives! Just as the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus, it descends on us, too.

Do you remember your own baptism? If you don’t, then you were probably baptized when you were a baby, just like I was. I don’t remember wearing a white baptismal outfit, or my family proudly sitting in the front pew while the pastor took me in his arms and sprinkled a few drops of water on my head. But those of us who were baptized as babies are a powerful symbol of a reality that we must never forget: God accepts us as his children before we can respond to him! Even before we know our own names, God knows us and loves us and adopts us as his own. None of us have earned God’s love any more than a baby in a bassinet has earned the love of her mother! The good news is that in God’s kingdom, there’s plenty of love to go around.

And some of you do remember your own baptism. If you do, then you probably made the decision as an adult to join the great crowd of disciples who follow Jesus Christ. You remember the pastor putting water put on your head – or maybe even immersing you in a baptistery or in a local river (when hopefully, it wasn’t as cold as it is now)! If that’s the case, then you are a powerful symbol of another reality. Even though God accepts us before we know anything about Jesus, we have to make the decision to follow him for ourselves! God doesn’t force us to follow Jesus. He gives us a choice, and he respects what we eventually decide to do. Infant baptism and adult baptism are two different sides of one reality: that God loves us and accepts us no matter what; but that we have to respond to that love ourselves.

Whenever you were baptized, though, just as Jesus’ baptism was the beginning of his life of ministry, baptism is the beginning of a new life in Christ for us. Remember your baptism, children of God! Remember your baptism, and be glad! And as you remember, give thanks for the new life that fills you through the Spirit, and leads you ever closer to the presence of the Father who is well pleased with you!

Saving the Best for Last

This past Sunday was Epiphany Sunday, the day that we celebrate the visit of the Wise Men to the Christ Child. In our congregation, it is also the day that we share the Sacrament of Holy Communion for the first time in the New Year. My sermon focuses on gifts, both the gifts of the Wise Men and the gifts that God offers to us, especially the ones that don't seem to be on time. Did you receive a late (but right on time) gift this Christmas?

Every Christmas, there is one gift that arrives late. On the morning after Christmas, the doorbell rings, and the mail carrier hands you a box. The return address says that it’s from Aunt Susie. When you open that box, sure enough, it contains a package wrapped in red and green paper and tied with a silver bow – the kind made from that pretty curly ribbon. The gift card wishes you a very Merry Christmas! But it’s the 26^th of December, and Christmas was yesterday. So what’s the first thing that you think after seeing Aunt Susie’s gift? “Oh, what a shame that it didn’t get here in time for Christmas!” After all, all the other gifts have been opened already. This one seems out of place, a Johnny-come-lately to the party.

But there’s another possible response to Aunt Susie’s gift. What if, instead of lamenting its late arrival, we are thankful for the opportunity to celebrate Christmas for one more day? The fact that we opened all the other gifts on Christmas morning doesn’t mean that we have to stop celebrating the holiday. In fact, Aunt Susie’s gift might turn out to be the perfect gift, the very thing that you wanted! You know the old saying: It’s good to save the best for last.

Sometimes the gifts that arrive late turn out to be very good ones, indeed! The Wise Men seem to have begun the tradition of saving the best gifts until last. The Gospel of Matthew doesn’t tell us exactly when they arrived in Bethlehem, only that they had followed a star from their home in “the east.” Now, they didn’t begin their long journey to Bethlehem until the star appeared when the Christ Child was born. And after we allow time for them to prepare for that journey, we realize that they must not have arrived in Bethlehem until months after the Christ Child was born. They were certainly not in Bethlehem to sing “Silent Night” on Christmas Eve with Mary and Joseph! No, Jesus might have celebrated his first birthday before those Wise Men showed up at the front door with their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Talk about late Christmas gifts!

But even if they were late, their gifts were absolutely appropriate for the Child they were honoring. They brought gold for a king; frankincense for a priest; and myrrh for a sacrifice. I’m sure that Mary and Joseph received lots of lovely gifts on the Christmas that Jesus was born – baby towels and rattles, receiving blankets and cute little one-piece sleepers with pictures of sheep on them, maybe even a diaper tree – but all of those are gifts that any baby might receive. Gold and frankincense and myrrh are gifts that are perfectly suited for the Child who rules us, who shows us what acceptable worship looks like, and who sacrificed himself on our behalf. The gifts of the Wise Men might have been late, but they were the best.

Throughout history, God has given his people gifts, too. Creation itself was a gift! God didn’t have to make the universe; and God didn’t have to put us in it, or give us the capability to enjoy it. But God did both of those things. When we disobeyed God’s very first rules, God could have given us up as a bad job and abandoned us to work our own way out of the mess that we had made of things. But God didn’t do that; God stuck with us. And God promised that he would stay with us through thick and thin. God gave us the gifts of a covenant with Abraham, a land where the children of Israel could live in peace, and a law that guides us as we live together. God even gifted his people with kings like David and Solomon to lead his people, and prophets like Amos, Isaiah, and Jeremiah to guide them.

But the very best gift that God gave us – that gift was saved for the very last. The book of Hebrews talks about that gift as it begins: “In the past, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days, God has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things.” As awe-inspiring as God’s other gifts to us are, surely God saved the best for last when he came to us in the person of Jesus Christ.

Do you suppose that the Wise Men understood what they were doing when they offered gifts to the child Jesus? Did they realize that they were giving gifts to The Gift? As they knelt before him, do you suppose that they heard the faint echo of nails being pounded into a cross? Did they catch a whiff of incense from the heavenly temple, or see the glint of the sun reflected off a crown as Jesus took his place at God’s right hand? The three gifts of the Wise Men, after all, are only tokens of the honor that all of us owe to Jesus as our King, our Priest, and our Savior.

And here, as we prepare to share the Sacrament of Holy Communion at this table, we are invited to gather together and meet him once again. Here, at this table, he invites us not only to give him honor, but to receive the gifts that he offers to us – strength for living each day, guidance for the future, hope in days of difficulty, and joy in days of celebration. Here, at this table, he offers us eternal life in him and through him. Yes, indeed, God saved the best for last when he came to us as Jesus Christ. God saved the very best – for us.

When Peace Broke Out...

Just one hundred years ago, an astounding event took place in the trenches of the First World War. Quite simply, both German and British troops refused to continue to fight. They laid down their weapons and celebrated Christmas Day together. If you have never heard this story, here it is -- my Christmas gift to you!

It was just 100 years ago that it happened – 100 years ago this very night! In some places on that night, men slept in their warm beds amid dreams of beautifully decorated trees and gaily wrapped gifts. But things were very different in central Europe; for on this night 100 years ago, a conflict was raging. Today we call it the First World War.

On this very night in 1914, men in central Europe awaited not the voices of loved ones calling “Merry Christmas,” but the explosions of hand grenades and artillery shells. Two great armies faced each other across a front that extended along the French-Belgian border. The troops lived in soggy trenches that were filled with mud. British and German alike were cold, wet, and miserable. Between the two lines of trenches was 50 to 100 yards of “No Man’s Land.” Snipers had orders to shoot anything that moved in No Man’s Land. In preparation for Christmas, the British troops had received cigarettes, plum puddings, chocolates, and a greeting card from King George V. German troops had received a pipe and tobacco, sausages, beer, and a card containing the profile of Crown Prince Frederick Wilhelm. In some places along the line, they had even received bundles of Christmas trees! But no one on either side expected to be able to celebrate the holiday.

On Christmas Eve, the shooting slowed down, and finally stopped altogether. No one ordered that cease fire; the troops simply stopped shooting. The silence was almost eerie. Men tensed, awaiting an attack. And then, somewhere along the German lines, a lone voice began to sing. “Stille nacht, heilige nacht…” Others joined in. When the song was over, silence fell again; but it didn’t last long. From the British lines, the song resumed – in English, this time: “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright…” Soon British and German had joined together in singing, up and down the lines. A German voice cried out, “Here comes a gift!” The British dove for cover, expecting a grenade; but what fell into their trench was a boot filled with sausages. The British responded in kind by sending back a plum pudding and chocolates.

When Christmas Day dawned, a white flag appeared over the German trenches. The British suspected a trap; but a German voice called out, “We good. We no shoot.” Men from both sides climbed nervously out into No Man’s Land, leaving their weapons behind. German and British met and exchanged handshakes and greetings. They swapped pipes, tobacco and cigarettes, sausages and plum puddings, and even personal items that they had with them. One German soldier cut a button off his uniform and gave it to a Brit. In some places, soccer games broke out. In other places, soldiers from opposing armies sat down in middle of the mud and worshipped together.

When the military commanders heard of such scandalous behavior, they ordered the troops to resume hostilities immediately; and, after a few days, the shooting resumed. But for one brief moment – on Christmas Eve just 100 years ago tonight – the power of love defeated the world’s violence at its worst. John Buchanan writes, “The Christmas truce is almost too good to be true; and yet, it is no more unrealistic than an angel announcing that a newborn baby is the Savior.” His birth means that peace is always possible, even in the midst of the worst that we can do to one another. God’s light still shines in the darkness… and the darkness has not overcome it. Thanks be to God!

What Child Is This? Prince of Peace

The Christmas story proclaims that the Christ will bring peace on earth. Oh, really? Where is it, anyway? This sermon might help you think about the answer.

Of all the names that we give to the Messiah, surely the one that strikes a chord closest to our hearts is the Prince of Peace. Peace is what we yearn for most deeply; and peace always seems to be in the shortest supply. Violence, not peace, is what usually surrounds us. I subscribe to a periodical titled The Week. It is a summary of recent news events in the opinions of a wide variety of columnists. Reports of violence can be found on nearly every page. In a recent issue, the cover story highlighted the riots in Ferguson, Missouri following the shooting of an unarmed black teenager by a white police officer. The issue also mentioned a Japanese woman who has allegedly poisoned four husbands; 28 bus passengers who were slaughtered in Kenya by an Islamic extremist group; and 43 student teachers in Mexico who disappeared and are presumed dead following their participation in a demonstration against drug cartels. And we delude ourselves if we think that this kind of violence will stay away from our own back yards. You may have heard about the military veteran who recently murdered his ex-wife and five members of her family in small towns just north of Philadelphia. My husband’s sister and brother-in-law live in a home just a block away from one of those murders.

Yes, we long for peace, but it eludes us. We read Isaiah’s description of the peaceful kingdom in which the lion and the lamb lie down together, and we shake our heads in dismay, because that’s not the world in which we live. Woody Allen once quipped, “The lion might lie down with the lamb, but the lamb won’t get much sleep!” We frequently don’t get much sleep, either. Like the lamb, we lie down with one ear listening for the tones of the smoke detector, the weather alert, or the security alarm. We don’t have much of that peace that the Messiah promises us. Where is it, anyway?

A part of the answer to that question is that the peaceful kingdom of the Messiah is on the way, but it hasn’t arrived in its fullness yet. Every now and then, if we pay attention, we might catch a glimpse of it peeping through the violence of our world. We see it when, for example, Palestinian Arab and Israeli Jew become friends, and work together for peace in their little corner of that troubled part of the world. But those glimpses of the kingdom are usually obscured by the violence and suffering around them. No, the peaceful kingdom of the Messiah that God has promised isn’t here yet, although we pray every day for its arrival.

But the delay of the peaceful kingdom isn’t the whole picture when we talk about God’s peace. The very definition of “peace” itself is a problem. We mostly define “peace” as political peace – the absence of war. If that’s the case, then Jesus’ lifetime during the height of the Roman Empire was one of the most peaceful eras in human history. That peace was called the Pax Romana, the “Roman peace.” It was enjoyed everywhere the Romans governed, throughout the whole civilized world. And it is true that few wars broke out during that time in history. But if we dig deeper, we find that the Romans maintained that peace through a system of violent punishments. Lawbreakers were subject to whipping, imprisonment in a dungeon, or even crucifixion. Oh, the Roman Empire may have been at peace, but that peace was a thin veneer over a system of legal violence. The Romans claimed that they had established “peace on earth,” but it certainly wasn’t peaceful for everyone! Surely this isn’t the kind of peace that the Messiah offers us!

So let’s suppose for a moment that political peace isn’t the only kind of peace around. What if the Messiah offers us a peace that is deeper and more profound than a peace that any government could supply? What if the peace that the Messiah promises us isn’t outside us, but inside us – inside our hearts and minds and souls? What if the peace that can carry us through all the difficulties of our daily living is an inner peace? What would that kind of peace look like? For that answer, we don’t need to look any farther than a newborn baby cradled in its mother’s arms. That newborn child is the very picture of God’s peace. His head rests comfortably on his mother’s shoulder, and his sleep is undisturbed. He isn’t worried about a thing! He rests safe and secure in the embrace of his loving mother. Now, that child won’t always be happy. Sometimes he will be cold, hungry, or in pain. But through all those things, his mother will be right there next to him, nourishing and protecting him when she can, and holding his hand when she can’t. That child can be absolutely certain that his mother will never leave him, not even for a second; and because of that certainty, he is filled with peace.

That peace can be ours, too, when we realize that because God was born to us in the person of Jesus Christ, God will never abandon us! God’s peace can be ours when we realize that all the names of the Messiah are true. He is the Dayspring, the One who floods us with the light of truth, and lights our path wherever it might lead us. He is the Key of David, the One who liberates us from all the chains that we wind around ourselves. He is Emmanuel, God with us, the One who has promised to be with us forever, both in this life and in the next. And when we are filled with the peace of the Prince of Peace, nothing in this world can threaten us! Trouble can’t disturb us. Neither can hardship or persecution or hunger or nakedness or danger or even war. That’s how Paul describes the peace that he found in Christ in his letter to the Romans (8:35). Nothing can take God’s peace away from us once it has filled our lives. Oh, we’ll still be frustrated and angry and upset now and then. We’ll still weep and mourn and suffer, because that’s part of life until God’s kingdom comes in fullness. But that foundation of peace assures us of God’s loving presence – a presence that we’ll never lose. In the end, God’s peace is what allows us to stand against all the evil that disturbs the peace of the world. The certainty that God is with us is what enables us to state “This is wrong!” when we witness injustice around us. The peace that the Prince of Peace offers us gives us the courage to resist violence of every kind. We can reject greed and prejudice and hatred when we are filled with peace. Peace leads to peace. You can rely on it.

Where is the peace that the Prince of Peace gives us? First it must be in us, and then it can be around us; and Christ offers it to every one of us, free of charge. In the gospel of John, Jesus tells his disciples, “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid.” This is the gift of Christmas – the peace that passes all understanding and the Savior who gives it to us. Thanks be to God!

What Child Is This? Key of David

The Messiah will free the prisoners and loose the captives, says the scripture. As we read that, we are grateful that we are not prisoners... or are we? My sermon for this week in Advent explores the kinds of prisons that Christ will open. Maybe one of them sounds familiar to you.

I have never been inside a jail. I haven’t been in a federal penitentiary, a state prison, or a county jail – not even to visit. What I know about prisons I know from watching crime shows on TV. But those shows tell me all I need to know about life inside “the big house.” I’ve watched scenes of handcuffed felons shuffle down hallways between burly guards, and heard the sound of a cell door swinging shut with a loud metal clang. I know that if I was in prison, I couldn’t go where I wanted to go, do what I wanted to do, even eat when I wanted to eat. If I were in prison, a 10 p.m. attack of the munchies would just have to wait until 7 a.m. breakfast. Someone else would tell me when to eat, when to sleep, and when to exercise – if I could exercise at all. Prisoners can only do what someone else tells them to do. A prisoner’s life is lonely, frustrating, and humiliating. Prisoners have no control over their own lives; never mind the ever-present threat of violence from guards and from other prisoners. Prison is a living nightmare. And it’s even more so for those who shouldn’t be there at all – those men and women who have been wrongly convicted, or who are political prisoners, held captive because of the whims of tyrants. No wonder that scripture often mentions prisons with the same horror that it mentions illness and death.

It is the Messiah, proclaims that same scripture, whose job it will be to loose the captive and set the prisoner free. When we sing about the Key of David in our songs of Advent, that’s the Messiah. He is the one who holds the key to every lock that keeps us imprisoned. And there are many kinds of prisons. Not all of them are made of stone and steel, like Alcatraz or Leavenworth. Some of them are conditions that people are forced to endure. Some people are imprisoned by physical disability or mental limitation. They rely on wheelchairs, oxygen tanks, and medical devices. Others are prisoners of their own experiences – military veterans suffering from PTSD, for example. Still others are prisoners of the economy. If you don’t believe that being unemployed is a prison, ask anyone who is seeking a job and can’t find one. None of these folks have done anything to deserve the prisons in which they are held. But they are nevertheless dependent on others for food, clothing, and shelter. Their lives are as limited as if they were behind bars. But through the grace of God, these prisons are being knocked down brick by brick. Physical limitations are constantly being addressed through medical research. Lost limbs can now be replaced with prosthetic ones; and medication can keep many chronic illnesses under control. Emotional conditions like PTSD are being treated by long-term therapy. And certainly we are all trying to create a society in which everyone who wants a job has one! We differ in our opinions as to how best to do that; but the health of our economy is on everyone’s mind. Yes, these prisons may yet disappear – not in our lifetimes, perhaps, but with God’s help and our own hard work.

These are dreadful kinds of prisons – physical prisons of stone and bars, and those we must endure because life’s lottery has put us there. But we can be freed from those. Most prison sentences have a completion date when the prisoner will leave his cell and rejoin society. And as we join together to address physical and mental limitations, we will freed from those conditions, as well. But there is another kind of prison that is just as bad as the ones that I have already mentioned – the prisons that we build for ourselves. If you’re familiar with the story A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, you’ll also be familiar with the ghost of Jacob Marley. Marley’s ghost was in a prison of his own making. As he climbed the staircase to visit Ebenezer Scrooge in his sitting room, he dragged a heavy chain behind him. Dickens described it this way. “[The chain] was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made… of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel.” When Scrooge asked him, “You are fettered. Tell me why?” the ghost replied, “I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link, and yard by yard. I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you? Or would you know the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was as full and heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have labored on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!” Indeed, a ponderous chain. Marley had focused on nothing but his own financial gain; and that focus had imprisoned him in a cell of greed, blinding him to the cares and needs of the world around him. Scrooge was in the very same prison, and headed for the very same fate.

Now, most of us don’t drag Marley’s chain behind us. Oh, sure, we worry about paying the bills; that’s just part of life. But the generosity in this congregation tells me that we’re not in the prison of selfishness and greed. But we may very well be imprisoned in another way. Well, here – let me describe some common prisons to you; and you can judge for yourselves if any of them are a little too familiar. Some people are caught in a web. Oh, it’s not a spider’s web. It’s much stronger than a spider’s web; and they have spun it with their own hands. These folks have paid way too much attention to the expectations that others have for them; and they are tied hand and foot by those expectations that pull them this way and that. Dad expects him to carry on the family business, although he really wants to be a forest ranger. Mom expects her to go to medical school, even though she’d rather try her luck as a Broadway actress. The neighbors expect elaborate landscaping around the house – after all, they live in a nice neighborhood – and so they spend countless hours every summer mowing the grass and weeding the flower beds. The boss expects lots of overtime; and how important is the preschool Christmas pageant, anyway? With every additional expectation, that web holds tighter and tighter, until you can’t move without offending someone or other. But the good news is that Christ has not only the Key of David, he also has a very large pair of scissors. He can cut us out of our web of expectations if only we will allow him to do it. After all, his expectations are the only ones that count. He expects us to live as free people, answering to no one but God.

If that web of expectations doesn’t sound familiar, try this one on for size. It’s the prison of appointments. Now, all of us have commitments that sometimes get in the way of other things that we would like to be doing. That’s just life. But when we build a prison of appointments, we trap ourselves inside a cell that doesn’t allow us any time for activities that enrich our souls. The walls of this prison are built of calendars, Post-It notes, clocks, and appointment books. There is no soothing music inside this prison, only the ring of alarms and reminders. If we consider even for a moment taking time to just relax and be, a telephone rings with another request for help. Pretty soon, the walls are so high that we can’t even see the possibility of anything else. But the good news is that Christ has not only the Key of David, he also has a very efficient paper shredder. He will eliminate all those calendar pages and appointment books if we’ll only allow him to do it. He can free us from the tyranny of obligations.

The last prison is one of the most powerful; and I think that we all suffer from it in one way or another. It is the prison of the past. Now, we all have had experiences that we’d like to forget. We have all made bad choices, done foolish things, and generally behaved badly. Who hasn’t? But some people are trapped by their experiences. They carry deep wounds of anger or resentment that have never healed properly. Instead of putting that anger behind them and moving ahead, they revisit those wounds over and over. Pretty soon, those wounds of yesterday are dictating what they do today. They are crippled by grudges, trapped by feelings of worthlessness, or unable to form close relationships. They are covered with so much emotional scar tissue that they can hardly move! But the good news is that Christ has not only the Key of David, he also has a very good first aid kit. He will tenderly bandage our open wounds, carefully cut away the scar tissue, and allow us the freedom to heal.

Freedom, after all, is what the Messiah offers us. And like a beautiful diamond, it has many facets. God shows us the way out of the prisons that keep us trapped in old ways of living. God invites us to be open to new ways of doing things – to change, grow, and develop in healthy ways. God’s freedom is a path away from death and towards life. Because the Messiah has come among us, the way to freedom is open to us. The Key of David has unlocked the door, now and forever. Thanks be to God!

What Child Is This? Dayspring

Who is this Child whose coming we are awaiting with such anticipation? One of his ancient names is "Dayspring," the name for the day's dawn when night is pushed back by the first rays of the sun. This sermon considers what significance that name might have for us.

In every home, there are a few corners that never seem to get cleaned! You know the places that I’m talking about. Some are under the stove. Others are behind the refrigerator. The really nasty ones are in the garage behind a pile of boxes that you set aside months ago – or maybe even years ago – and you just never got around to doing anything with them. It’s easy to overlook those corners. They were clean once upon a time! But then they got dusty, and all kinds of dirt built up in them. Spiders found out that they were safe back there, and they built their webs over top of all that dirt. The dirtier the corners got, the less we wanted to clean them. Pretty soon, those corners were completely buried under dust and dirt and spider webs. And then, it was easier to ignore them altogether than to try to scrape out all that crud!

Now, if we decide to clean out those dirty corners, we know what we need. We need a strong light to help us see what’s really in there; we need an assortment of cleaning tools; and we need lots and lots of motivation to get into those corners and dig out the crud. When we find that motivation, first we head over to Home Depot and buy a high-intensity light so that we can see what we’re doing. Then we put on old clothes, roll up our sleeves, pick up a broom, a mop, a bucket, and a bunch of rags, and we get to work.

But we have dirty corners in our lives, too; and those aren’t nearly as easy to clean out. Some of those dirty corners contain memories that we’ve hidden away. We throw our secrets into the farthest corners of our lives so that no one can see them; and we’re secretly relieved when spiders spin their webs over top of them and hide the dirt underneath. Other corners of our lives don’t have any secrets in them; they’re just stuck just in out of the way places where we don’t go very often. We don’t clean those corners out much, either. The problem is that sometimes those corners give us trouble. One day, we realize that something is nagging at us. Sometimes, it turns out to be the dirt in one of those corners that we never got around to cleaning out. Now, we can’t just run over to Lowe’s and buy a high-intensity light to help clean out a corner of our life. It takes a different kind of light to do that – the kind of light that only God can give us.

One of the names for the Child whose birth we are awaiting is the Dayspring. We sang that in the introit this morning. “Dayspring” is a very old term for the dawn, that time of the day when light appears and darkness vanishes. That’s an appropriate name for God’s Messiah. After all, God has been associated with light since the most ancient times. Light was God’s very first creation, beams of beauty into the dark, chaotic mess that once was the cosmos – way back before God organized it into galaxies and stars and planets. In Psalm 104, the psalmist describes God as “wrapped in light as in a garment.” Wherever God goes, light goes with him. You remember what John said in his first letter: “God is light, and in God there is no darkness at all.” And in the text of Isaiah that we heard this morning, the prophet promises that “the Lord will rise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.” God doesn’t keep that light to himself. He shares it with all of us. This child that will be born to us comes to bring God’s light into a world of darkness. “Light and life to all he brings…” That’s what Charles Wesley wrote in his hymn “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Light and life comes from Christ. And that’s the only kind of light that will help us when we want to clean out the dark corners of our lives – the light that God offers us in the life of his Messiah.

We need the light of Christ when we decide to poke around in those dark corners of our lives. After all, the dirt in there can be mighty deep and caked in. And we all know what that dirt is made of. It’s made of anger… resentment… grudges… fear... Sometimes, we don’t even realize what’s in there! The remains of an old argument might be buried way down deep – so deep that we’ve forgotten all about it. But that dirt is still hanging around, influencing our decisions and our actions in ways that we don’t want at all. The only way to get rid of that dirt is to shine the light of Christ into that corner so that we can see what’s there and get rid of it. Now, that’s a frightening prospect to some people. None of us want other people to see our dark corners, do we? We’re afraid of what might happen if we let anybody see the dirt that’s in there. We feel like Pig Pen in the old Peanuts comic strip, grimy with dirt and surrounded by clouds of dust. We even worry that God might not love us. But God loves us no matter how deep the crud is in our dark corners. Christ doesn’t shine his light into our lives to condemn us. He brings God’s light to us so that he can heal us! The gospel of John talks about light and darkness all the time; and it claims that “God sent his son into the world not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” Salvation, not blame, is what God is all about.

And that’s a good thing, because we’re not the only people who have cruddy corners to be cleaned out! The world is full of them, each one caked with dirt of one kind or another. Our public programs are full of them, even though those programs were set up with the noblest of goals and the best of intentions. All of them have a corner somewhere that’s full of corruption and greed. Our judicial system certainly has some cruddy corners. Although we say that justice is impartial, the reality is that it is riddled with bias and prejudice. And do I need to say anything about government? There are so many dirty corners in government – ours or any other – that I hardly know where to begin. The world is so full of dirty corners that it is easy to cry in despair, “Where is the Dayspring? Where is the Messiah? Where is the Light that God promised to send us?” Hang in there. He’s coming! When all seems lost… when the darkness is the deepest… when there seems to be no light around us at all… he will appear.

Author Mary Winifred tells a story about realizing the power of God’s light. “I was tired,” she writes, “after working long hours on a project that seemed as though it would never come to fruition. A friend had invited me to spend a few days at her home on the New Jersey shore; and one morning, after much encouragement on her part, we got up early to see the sunrise over the ocean. The morning was dark and the misty breeze that hit our faces was uncomfortably chilly. As we watched in silence, suddenly from the edge of the water’s horizon came the huge golden roundness of the sun… My tiredness and depression [were lifted]. …It is in just this, often unexpected, surprising way that Christ the Dayspring enlightens our souls and spirits.” [Hasten the Kingdom, 1966, Liturgical Press, p. 32] “O Dayspring,” she prays, “…bright clearness of the light…, I watch for your coming to unravel the darkness, to [reveal] the unknown, to unmask the shapes and shadows of the night, and… to discover the secrets of righteousness and justice….” [Hasten the Kingdom, pp. 32-33] During this time of Advent anticipation, that is our prayer, too.