Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Call Waiting...



You see that pretty (awesome) church in the picture above?
This is the Congregational Church of Amherst, New Hampshire.
They have just over 600 members, a fabulous music program, lots and lots of kids, an active youth group, a dedicated group of volunteers who participate in community outreach, and a heart and soul desire to “welcome, transform, and send” all who walk through their doors seeking God, grace, and the “good news” that none us is meant to stagger through this life alone.

 If all goes well, and God willing, on March 11th I will be leading worship in this lovely church and afterward the congregation will take a vote on whether to call me to be their next Associate Pastor.

In the meantime, my life for the next month or so will be immersed in a swirl of packing, purging, planning, prepping, and praying (…with a modest amount of panicking thrown in towards the end).

But as this time of transition passes, I trust, as Julian said:
“All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”



Friday, February 3, 2012

The Fur is about to Fly....





The cat doesn't know
that her world will soon be turned upside down.
This spot on the footstool cushion feels familiar
and safe,
in the sun and out of the sun,
the day passing as many days have before.
The house is quiet,
apart from the occasional banging
coming from the workmen in the apartment downstairs.
She is unaware of the "For Sale" sign
that has been pounded into the soft ground
outside the window just below.

The cat doesn't know
that soon there will be boxes,
everywhere.
Boxes to explore and launch herself into.
Boxes to rub against and cut into with her teeth.
Boxes left half full and taped tightly shut,
stacked neatly, waiting to be carried away.
On each side black marker will announce
its destination:
KITCHEN
3rd BEDROOM
BASEMENT, DOWNSTAIRS, TO THE RIGHT

The cat doesn't know
that familiar pieces of furniture will soon disappear.
The dining room table that she perches on
to better oversee the dishing out of the evening meal.
The brown sofa that she summits in one leap
and quickly moves into the warm and vacant spot
when the phone rings,
or there is something else
to be tended to elsewhere in the house.
The many bookcases,
overflowing bookcases,
that fill the small room where the afternoon sun
forms rectangles on the carpet
in just the right spot. 
It will all be gone.
Whisked away
to another home,
another state,
another universe,
waiting to be explored.

The cat doesn't know
as she shifts on the stool cushion,
stretching,
circling,
before curling back up against the legs
that always seem to be there.
Except when they're not.
And soon "when they're not"
will be the new paradigm.
The cosmic shift in her reality.
After a flurry of movement and men,
the house will go quiet.
The footstool and its soft cushion will be gone.
At least for a while.

The cat doesn't know
that the nearly empty house will only be temporary.
As the weather warms, the men will come again
and pick up the last remaining boxes.
Boxes marked:
STEPH'S CLOTHES
OFFICE SUPPLIES
BOOKS, UNREAD, MASTER BEDROOM

The cat doesn't know
that she and her carrier
will be the final item to collect.
As she crouches unsteadily in her plastic cage,
swaying down the walkway,
remembering that trips like these
always end up in the same place,
her eyes will be the last to see
the house that we once called home.

But right now,
she doesn't know.
The sounds, the smells, the warm cushion,
the shifting legs that cause her to stir,
are all as they should be.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Sermon: "Are We There Yet?"




“Are we there yet?”

January 15, 2012
Deuteronomy 34:1-12 

“The LORD said to him, "This is the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, 'I will give it to your descendants'; I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not cross over there."
Deut. 34:4


The morning dawned cold and clear on that day in the valley of Moab.
The temperature had dipped into the low 30’s overnight, and we awoke to a layer of freshly fallen snow….covering the ground, and hanging on the thin walls of our woven cloth shelters.
A few of our people huddled together for warmth around the dying embers of last night’s campfire.  Some of the boys had been roused from their sleep and were sent out to gather more wood, but they would come back hours later almost empty handed, as they did every morning in the preceding weeks, months, years.
They’d stagger back into our campsite with their spindly arms wrapped around a few broken twigs and some dry underbrush. Just enough to strike a flint to, to cook a meal and get us through the night.
One more night.
One more stomach rumbling, bone chilling, everlasting night,
in this God forsaken wilderness, that has been our home for 40 years.

We’d stopped complaining years ago.
When the older folks began to die off, and more and more children were born, we learned to accept that this was how life was going to be. This was the new status quo.
And after a few years it wasn’t so new anymore, and then it became all we’ve ever known.
Some us could still remember what it was like back in Egypt. A land that was then so far away I’d sometimes catch myself wondering if we hadn’t made the whole thing up.
The old men would sit around the fire at night with their graying beards and bent backs and tell tales of armored soldiers and speeding chariots.
The children would sit at their feet listening with wide eyes waiting for the part they knew was coming, the part where the raging waters came crashing down and the people, our people, were set free.

This is what our long and hard won past had become.
A bedtime story for children, and a way for old men to wile away the hours, waiting on a promise that more and more of us were beginning to believe would never be fulfilled.
Perhaps there was no land of milk and honey.
Perhaps it was all just a clever ruse designed to give us a reason to get out of bed every morning. If so, it was effective.
Every time we’d see a rise off the distance, we’d quicken our pace and push towards it for days on end, all in the hope that the Promised Land lay just on the other side. But time after time, our hopes were dashed.
We’d crest the hill and see miles and miles of more of the same.
The same scraggly trees, the same sparse underbrush, the same rolling expanse of barren soil, as far as the eye could see.
One by one our hearts would fall as we took in this vista and stepped into the void, with those filing up behind us still holding out hope until they too saw with their own eyes that the Promised Land had not yet been found.
With sagging shoulders and broken spirits we’d continue on, waiting for that next rise to appear on the horizon.
We were free, but we were still in captivity.
We had exchanged our shackles for stagnation, broken up only by an endless cycle of rising and falling hopes.

But throughout it all, there was Moses,
Walking before us and leading the way…..and giving us hope that one day, one day, the promise would be fulfilled.
All you had to do was look into that man’s eyes to believe that what we were doing was not futile, that there WAS some great land, some great future out there, just waiting for us to arrive.
Moses was the only human being among us who could say he’d seen the physical presence of God, and lived to tell about it.
Well, at least that’s what he said had happened.
But few of us had the nerve to question the visions and proclamations of this great man.
The truth is, he rescued us from the hands of Pharaoh, a man determined to beat us into the ground, every last one of us.
Moses led us out of Egypt, he found us food, water, and shelter.
Whatever concern we’d have, he’d listen to intently and run off to negotiate with God. Moses was our connection to divine intervention.
Without him, I wonder if God would have heard our pleas at all.
Without Moses, these children would not be running freely in the morning air, and these old men would have died long ago from the backbreaking work of hard labor.

Yes, Moses was a great leader.
But you may have noticed that I am speaking of him in the past tense.
For this great man is no longer with us.
It was on that fateful morning that we found him, with the frost still covering the ground and the campfire embers still sending up long thin streams of smoke into the cold morning air.
We found him in his shelter, huddled beneath the sheepskin blanket that some of our women had made for him many years ago.
He was usually an early riser, though in his later years, he wasn’t the first to greet the sun, but still, on that morning the time that we typically saw him stir from sleep had come and gone.
One of the men assigned to assist him in his daily tasks pushed through the shelter’s blanketed opening and emerged a few minutes later with a stricken look of grief etched upon his face.
We don’t know when the Lord took him.
Sometime in the night we suppose, or perhaps only moments before, as we all milled about the campfire preparing for another day of wandering, unaware of the presence of the angel of death in our midst.
Others who were close to Moses, rushed into the shelter to confirm what the aide could not bring himself to say, that Moses was indeed dead.
His skin was cold to the touch, although the same could be said of all of us on that frigid morning, but the color had not yet left Moses’ cheeks.
He was being held in the warm hand of God.
But he was with US, no more.

You don’t think it’s ever going to happen.
Or rather I should say, you know it’s going to happen, but you’re never prepared when it does….the moment when death takes someone you love. Moses was a very old man. Though he was still full of energy, we knew he would not live forever, and he knew it as well.
Which is why the day before he left us, he placed his hand on the shoulder of the young man named Joshua and steered him aside to speak to him privately. 

You see, what we didn’t know at that time was that God had told Moses that he would not live to see the Promised Land.
His time to lead the people he knew and loved had come to an end.
The time of wandering was over, and a new leader was needed to guide us on the next leg of our journey. In the Promised Land, a land of abundance, we would face new challenges and new opportunities to be the people of God. The leader who held our hand and led us through the darkened and barren wilderness would not be the one we’d call upon in times of plenty.
It would take a different skill set, a fresher perspective, a less weary and more nimble spirit to guide us onward, and Joshua was the one God had called to do just that.

But still, I have to wonder what Moses must have felt when he was told that he would not be entering the land we had traveled so many miles, and so many years to see - to have this treasure dangled in front of him, and then be told it would not be his to hold, that the future he had imagined for himself was not to be.

But you know, after we had removed Moses body from his shelter and buried him in a simple grave in the valley of Moab, his friend, the aide who had found him, had a story to share.
The previous afternoon, after having his conversation with Joshua, Moses walked up the mountain that lay just ahead of us, and for the longest time he stood at the top of the ridge alone and motionless, just staring out at the horizon.
When he returned in the early evening the aide swore that Moses looked as if 40 years had been taken off his weathered face. He had a youthful glow about him, and his eyes radiated pure joy and contentment.
What we discovered ourselves as we crested that same ridge the very next day was that God had shown Moses the Promised Land, and despite the fact that Moses knew he would never live in that land himself, he was overjoyed for those of us who would.
He had done what he was called to do to get us there, and the knowledge that the people he so loved would eat the fruit, bathe in the waters, and bask in the sunshine of this land was reward enough for him.

God speed, our beloved leader, God speed.
May you fall gently into your Creator’s arms.
You’ve reached the true Promised Land that we all will one day see, when God calls each one of us home.

*****



In the book of Deuteronomy, God instructs the generations of Israelites who have come to be born after the Exodus to celebrate Passover as if each one of them has personally come out of Egypt. God’s lesson here is clear: only by entering the story ourselves can we truly understand its meaning.

Now in listening to this story this morning most of us don’t have to imagine what Moses must have felt when God told him he would not enter into the Promised Land. We’ve lived it ourselves - whenever we’ve had our heart set on something that never comes to fruition, or put years of sweat equity into a job or relationship that seemingly never rewards our efforts, or lose something or someone that we thought would be with us for many years to come.
In many ways we know what it’s like to be brought to that precipice and be shown what we could have, only to be told we never will.

But as writer Joseph Campbell so poetically said, “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

We’re human beings, and it is in our nature as linear thinking creatures to envision a future for ourselves and to make plans accordingly.
I’m sure what got Moses through many a cold night as he settled down to sleep was imagining what his life would be like once he reached the Promised Land:
The clean, running waters, the rich, fertile soil, the abundance of milk and honey that God had promised him would be flowing from the land.
He could smell it, he could taste it…..and the trust that he had in God to deliver on this promise IS what got him out of bed every morning.
Moreover, he urged his people to live their lives as if they had already reached the Promised Land – to trust that food and water would be plentiful, to not gather more than what they needed for themselves, to share amongst everyone without fear that there would not be enough to go around.
Moses lived most of his life with faith in a promise that was both now-and-not-yet.  The fulfillment of the promise was yet to come, but until then he could imagine how his life would change, and subsequently he changed his life in the here-and-now in preparation for what was to come.

We are living in that now-and-not-yet time as well.
We live it every time we make sacrifices now with our time, our money, and our resources to ensure that we’ll have something even more valuable in the future. Whether it’s a secure retirement for ourselves, an education for our children, a clean and healthy planet, or a music program for our church.

As Christians, the time of now-and-not-yet that we’re living in and the Promised Land that we’re walking towards is the Kingdom of God.
The time that God promised us would come, when a new world will be created right here in place of the current world – a world in which love, compassion, and forgiveness will rule our lives rather than hate, fear, and mistrust.
As the people of God we are called to be co-creators of that world.
We are called to follow Jesus’ example and to work in partnership with God to create a world that is free of injustice, violence, oppression, poverty, prejudice, and marginalization of any kind.

As Jesus was fond of saying, the Kingdom of God is here, and it is yet to come. Which means until the new world comes into being, until we reach the Promised Land, like Moses and the people of Israel we are to live as if we are already there.
We are to treat each other, and love each other as if we’re living in a land that flows with milk and honey, and give to each other out of a feeling of abundance rather than hold onto what we have out of a feeling of scarcity.

Like Moses, we are living in a time of now-and-not-yet.
We’re standing on that mountaintop, looking out over the Promised Land, knowing that we might not be permitted to enter it in our lifetime, but because of all the work we’ve done to get here, all the wandering we’ve done in the wilderness, our people, our children’s children, will one day step into that land.

Moses never made it to the Promised Land, and we might assume that he was deeply disappointed when God told him he would not live to see the fruits of his years of wandering. But in the end, his personal tragedy is offset by his ability to see what no one else could see.
Moses knew the land alone was not the destination; because the destination lies within ourselves, it’s in our hearts, where human beings live in communion with God.
We may think that it was cruel of God to show Moses the land he would never enter, but perhaps in the end when Moses stood atop that mountain he wasn’t even looking at the land. He wasn’t looking at the reward. He was looking where we all should be looking. He was looking at God.

As we leave this mountaintop, and return to our work-filled wandering in the desert below, let us remember the words of another great leader who led his people through wilderness, and did not live to see the Promised Land.

These are the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.:

“Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people will get to the Promised Land.”    

Amen.




Monday, January 2, 2012

Weight Watching




Like many of us, my new year’s resolution for 2012 (and every year prior) is to lose weight. I’ve been eyeing the bathroom scale for several months now and have yet to work up the courage to step on it. I’m afraid it will project my weight out the window and onto the sky for all the world to see – with giant flashing numbers surrounded by a rotating ring of all the cookies and cupcakes that I’ve eaten to get there…(actually, that would be kind of cool).

Truthfully, the weight I’ve resolved to lose this year has nothing to do with the number on the scale. There is weight that we all carry around that can’t be shed with a low carb diet and a treadmill. It’s the weight that we carry in our hearts and minds. This is weight that accumulates over time and we often don’t even realize that we’re carrying it until we finally set it down and feel how light we’ve become without it.

Here is just some of the weight that I’d like to lose this year:

The weight of regret.
We’ve all had roads that we wished we'd taken, or we've said and done things that we regret. Sometimes we have the opportunity to make restitution or to make things right…and sometimes we don’t.  Either way, carrying around the regret of our missed opportunities and past mistakes has a way of tainting our present and our future. Regrets keep us from taking chances in life (“What if I screw up again?), and keep us from being as open and loving as we’re called to be (“She hasn’t forgiven me, so why should I forgive her?”). Regrets hang on our shoulders like 50 lb potato sacks and keep us from loving and moving freely through life. Lord, help me to let it go.

The weight of guilt.
If we’ve done or said something that caused pain to another and we haven’t owned up to it then guilt is our weight of choice.  Denial and fear of reprisal is the two-headed dragon that has us hiding behind this one. Guilt is a heavy weight to carry, but we fear that admitting the role we played in generating it, and the consequences that will result from our coming clean, will knock us flat on our backs. In reality, the guilt that we carry often outweighs any punishment, imagined or real. And the relief we feel after admitting our guilt allows us to take on the weight of the consequences, however long they may last.  Guilt eats away at us from the inside out. Lord, help me to let it go.

The weight of self-expectation.
This is one for the perfectionists among us (we know who we are). I’m just going to state the obvious here: We’re not perfect. We’re going to make mistakes, we’re going to say and do stupid and hurtful things, we’re going to run out of time, energy, and patience, and we’re going to set goals in life that we’re not going to reach no matter how hard we try, how many hours we work, or how “gifted” we think we are. It’s good to set the bar high in life. It keeps us from settling for less and for being less than God has called us to be. But if our self-expectations are too great they tend to feel like weights tied around our ankles. No matter how high we jump, we still feel like we’ve never left the ground. Lord, help me to let it go.

The weight of our expectations of others.
Once again, let’s state the obvious: We can’t control the behavior, thoughts, or beliefs of others. If we expect people to behave and think just as we do we’re setting ourselves up for a let down nearly every time.  This applies to friends and adversaries alike. We may want our friends to be more open and giving of themselves and to offer us unwavering support without judgment. We may want our adversaries to see things from our perspective and to stop throwing up roadblocks in front of us. We may want both to view and understand the world in the same way that we do. But it would be a pretty boring world if we didn’t have these differences chafing between us.  We’d never have to stretch ourselves to understand the viewpoint of another. Expectations get in the way of that stretching…their sheer weight keeps us from moving from our own position, and keeps us from seeing others and ourselves in a more enlightening way.  Lord, help me to let it go.

The weight of excuses.
What is it that you want to do in your life and what is keeping you from doing it? Excuses have a way of keeping us small. “I’m too old. I'm too young. I’m too busy. I’m not good enough. I don’t have enough money. It’s too hard. It will take too much time. I can’t because…(fill in your excuse here).”
Excuses arise out of our fears. We’re afraid that we’ll fail, we’re afraid that others will judge us, we’re afraid that we’re not worthy enough to have or do whatever it is our heart is calling us to embrace. If you have a goal, a dream, a desire to make even the smallest change in your life, holding on to these excuses is like dragging a boulder up a mountain. Lord, help me to let it go.


We’ve all got baggage weighing us down.
We’re all carrying around the weight of regret, guilt, expectations, and excuses, and at any given moment in time we’re juggling any combination of all of the above - and the truth is, we’re never going to completely let go of any of these weights. Life is all about learning to let go of some and learning to live with those that we can’t seem to release from our grip.
But there is so much that we can let go of...once we find the courage to try. 
Shedding these weights takes a lot of intentional inner work; work that hopefully will not be done alone but in community – with the love and support of family and friends, and the grace and mercy of our loving Creator.

I will get on that scale in the bathroom (eventually) and I’ll limit my cookie intake and get back in my routine of running, walking, and cycling. But I’m sure most of us realize that whatever resolution we’ve made this year – to quit smoking, to volunteer more, to work on our relationship(s), to be better people – all rely on our willingness to drop some of the inner weight that we’ve been carrying around, in some cases for far too long. We need to make ourselves lighter, or we'll never be able to see how high we can fly.

Blessings to all of my friends, family, and blogosphere readers in 2012!
May it be a fruitful and life changing journey for us all. 


Sunday, December 25, 2011

Sermon: "A Christmas Story"



 “A Christmas Story”

December 25, 2011
Luke 2:1-20

"I bring you good news of a great joy….for unto you a child is born this day in the city of David, and you will find him wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."

This is good news.
This is good news to us because we know who that child is – we know the man he will grow up to be.
We know of his ministry and his teachings.
We know about the healings and the miracles he will perform.
We know that he will bring down the mighty and vindicate the lowly.
We know that he will suffer and die at the hands of those who fear him.
And we know God will raise him up out of his tomb and he will forever be a presence right by our side -
Guiding, comforting, strengthening and redeeming.

We hear the words “and unto you a child is born” and we see Jesus. Emmanuel. God with us.
And hopefully, we feel the great love that he has for us, and the great love that we have for him.

But to those shepherds standing out in that frozen field on a cold winter’s night 2,000 years ago, this GOOD NEWS brought to them by a heavenly messenger must have been puzzling.
Why would the birth of a child in a far away town have any bearing on what happened in their lives?
How could a baby save the world?

They had heard the stories of the great Messiah who was expected to come and vanquish those in power and set the oppressed free, but these were only stories.
These were tales that they told each other every night around the dying embers of the encampment fire.

These were stories that were intended to give them hope, to give them a reason to get up in the morning, to inspire them to go out and stand in that field day after day after day, doing a job that only the lowest of the low were expected to do, scratching out a living that left their stomachs rumbling on more nights than they cared to admit.

They did not want to believe that God had forsaken them.
They didn’t want to believe that it was up to them to lift the weight of poverty and oppression off their shoulders.
They knew they were not strong enough to do it all on their own.

The stories the shepherds told of the coming Messiah kept their hope alive.
The hope that someone greater than they would lift them up and set them free.

A Messiah is just what they needed – but they needed a full grown Messiah – a King, a warrior, a vanquisher – someone who had the power to step up and make their lives better, right here, right now.

What were they to do with a baby?
Even if that baby was the Messiah, few of them could expect to still be living by the time this child grew to assume power.
And if that baby was the Messiah, why tell the world about it now?
You may as well paint a target on the child’s back – every King and political leader in the region would want him dead, and what could his parents possibly do to protect him?
A baby is small, and vulnerable and weak.
The very things a Messiah is NOT supposed to be.

The very things a GOD is not supposed to be.

Which is why even in our time, so many question why we Christians believe this fanciful tale of a God who chooses to come into the world not in a blaze of glory, not through an awesome display of power and strength, but chooses instead to slip into the world in the quiet of a winter’s night, in the form of a crying infant, something so small, so vulnerable, and so weak.
What an improbable, implausible tale.
Who would be crazy enough to believe it?

But we have to ask ourselves, what are we missing if we don’t believe it?

When I was an undergrad working on my bachelor’s degree I took an introductory religion class, and when it came time to discuss Christianity and the incarnation of Jesus one of the students raised his hand and asked how anyone possessing even average intelligence and a rational mind would believe such a fantastical story. 

Why would an all-powerful and infinite God diminish itself by becoming a powerless and finite human being?
Why would an all-knowing God have a need to become human to learn what it is like to BE human when God already possesses this knowledge?
And realistically, how could a being as large as God is said to be, contain itself inside the body of one tiny human being?

I still remember the professor’s response.
She looked at the student with a knowing smile, and said,
“Because an all-powerful God has the power and the ability to do anything that God wants to do.” 

Even if it means becoming small enough to fit inside the body of a squirming infant.

Perhaps God did not need to become one of us to know what it’s like to be one of us - to know what it’s like to feel pain, to feel joy, to feel hopelessness and despair.
Perhaps God didn’t need to incarnate in the body of Jesus to know what it is like to suffer and die.
But perhaps God understood that WE needed to know that God felt and empathized with our pain.
Not as some distant deity, but as a God who is close enough for us to reach out and touch.

And the best way that God knew how to help us feel that closeness was to become one of us.
To know what it feels like to be born kicking and screaming into this world, to feel the chill of the cold night air and the warmth of a mother’s arms against newly bared skin, to look up through clouded eyes and see the faces of joyful parents and curious strangers, to be held in the supportive embrace of a loving community.

What a fantastic way to build a bridge between an infinite God and a finite human being.
God steps into our world, and in the process God allows us to step into God’s world.
As the infant Jesus, God depended upon us for food and shelter and even life. 
And in return, God gave up power and control so that we would know that God understands what it is like to feel helpless and weak.
What an amazing and unexpected thing for God to do.

And what an improbable, implausible tale God has given us to tell.  
Who would be crazy enough to believe it?




Despite their fear and misgivings, those shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night were crazy enough to believe it.
They went to Bethlehem, they saw the child, they believed the angel who told them the good news - that this baby was the Messiah, the Savior of the world.
And when they returned to their homes they told everyone within earshot that the wait was over, that the hope and light of God had been born into the world.

And 2,000 years later, we’re still telling this story, we’re still holding on to that hope, we’re still celebrating and sharing this good news.

Now, some of us may still shake our heads at the implausibility of this story.
We choose instead to see the social ramifications of the Nativity tale.
Jesus is born poor and homeless to an unwed undocumented teenage mother, under the oppressive regime of a totalitarian king. 

Jesus is the poster child for all the social ills and human rights issues that we’re still wrestling with in our time. His birth serves as a reminder to us that great things often come from humble beginnings, and that all human beings have value, even those whom we tend to ignore, dismiss, or outright despise.

But I have to believe that there is more to the story than this.
If this is the sole message of the Jesus story than his story is no different from the thousands of other children who were born in his time, or in our time.
What makes the Jesus story so special is that God chose this moment in time to enter into our story.

On Christmas day we celebrate the moment when God became human and nothing is ever the same after that.
Incarnation means change.
It means God coming into our time and into our space and into our lives and into our comfort zone and shaking things up and causing them to be recreated in a new way.
The incarnation challenges us to initiate change and to be active, co-creators with God in the world around us.


What is the good news we are waiting to hear on this Christmas Day? 
Perhaps like the shepherds we are waiting for a messenger who will tell us that the tide has turned, that the day of vindication and hope has arrived, that God is still with us.
Or, perhaps we have secretly given up hope, in spite of our best efforts at trying to hide our despair with holiday busyness.
Or worse, we may reached the point of assuming that it is entirely up to us to bring the peace that our hearts long for, and God will not bother to intervene at all. 
But isn't Christmas all about God intervening in human history?
Isn't Christmas about God telling us not to give up hope - that it’s not up to us to do this all on our own?  (1)
Isn’t Christmas about hearing and telling a story that is so implausible, it takes a leap of faith to believe it?

Once upon a time, in a far away land, a baby is born.
A baby that in many ways is just like you and me, and in many ways is the personification of who we are meant to be. 
This baby embodies the hope and potential that each new life has to offer the world. 
Yet this baby does not come into this world alone.
This baby has guardians, teachers, companions and friends.
This baby is born helpless just as we all are, and without the gift of human love and compassion, this baby will never grow to be the guiding light that many will come to rely on.
This baby is the expression of God’s love and grace entering into the world, and it is up to us to nurture it to fruition.

This baby is God incarnate.
This baby is all of us incarnate.

And I can’t think of a better story to tell on Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas to us all, and Amen.



1. Kathryn Matthews Huey, UCC Sermon Seeds

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Sermon: "Hail Mary, Full of Grace"




“Hail Mary, Full of Grace”

Fourth Week of Advent – December 18, 2011
Luke 1:26-38

She was thirteen.
She was thirteen, and she was engaged to marry a man much older than she was - a man whom she may not have loved or have even known very well.
And here was an Angel of the Lord, standing before her and telling her that out of all the women in the world, she had been chosen.
She was going to give birth to the Son of God.

And Mary responded to this miraculous declaration by saying: “How can this be?”

How can this be?

Do you remember what it was like to be thirteen?
To be stuck in that awkward stage between childhood and adulthood.
When it feels like your emotions and your desires and your whole world are spinning out of control.
And it feels like your skin doesn’t quite fit anymore.
And every time you look in the mirror all you see are the blemishes on your cheeks and the nose that suddenly seems too big for your face.
Parts of you have grown yet others betray the fact hat you are still a child.

And your body isn’t the only thing that is changing.
You once ran freely through life from one moment of joy to the next, not caring or having no awareness of how you looked, or what others were thinking.
Then suddenly you wake up one day and the protective bubble you once lived in is gone.
And you feel all eyes are upon you.
The eyes of your peers. The eyes of your parents and teachers. The eyes of strangers.  Studying. Quantifying. Judging.

When Mary was coming of age in her time and culture things were different.
For one thing, the word “teenager” did not exist – in any language.
Unlike today, the ancient world did not delineate the years between 12 and 20 and mark them as a time of adolescent transition, a time spent with one foot in the world of toys and games and the other in the world of responsibilities and worries.
The concept of adolescence – where one still lives under the roof and guidance of one’s parents after puberty - is a relatively modern invention.

In Mary’s time, when you had the ability to have children of your own you were considered to be an adult.
Which meant you had the responsibilities and burdens of being an adult, without necessarily having the wisdom or the strength to carry either one.

We tend to forget how young Mary actually was when the Angel Gabriel appeared before her.
In classic works of art she is often depicted as a full-grown woman, which she was by the time she sat at the foot of the cross and held Jesus’ broken body in her arms.
But when she gave birth to her first son – the one she was told would be called Emmanuel – God with us – Mary was most likely still a child herself.

Now, we don’t know how old Mary actually was on that first Christmas.  The text of Luke’s gospel makes a point to say that she was a virgin, and betrothed to Joseph but not yet married. Since young women were expected to marry soon after puberty, it is safe to assume that Mary was between 12 and 15 years old.

For those of you who have children that age, or if you remember being that age yourself, you can imagine how Mary must have felt when she was told that she had been chosen by God to the mother of the savior of our world.

Now much is made about the fact that when Mary received this news, she did not hesitate to say, “Here I am Lord…let it be with me according to your word.” [i]
And it is said that the lesson here for us is that we are meant to model Mary’s faith and obedience by responding to God in the same unquestioning manner.

But let’s take a step back for a moment.
Mary’s first reaction to the Angel Gabriel’s deceleration is not to shout confidently, 
“Here I am!” but rather she offers up a question:
“How can this be?”

Mary may have been considered an adult in her time, but biologically she was still an adolescent – with all the aforementioned uncertainties and insecurities swirling around her.
So when she asked the Angel Gabriel, “How can this be?” she probably had more on her mind then a question about the logistics of how she could get pregnant when she was still a virgin. 

We might imagine her thinking,
“How can this be, that this Angel of God is here standing before me?
“How can this be, that God has chosen this moment in time, in this tiny village, to make an announcement about the coming of the Messiah?”
 “How can this be, that God has chosen ME to be the mother of our savior?”

Mary may have wondered,
How could it be that God considered her to be a favored one?
She was just a child, in a world that favored wisdom and maturity.
She was a poor female, in a world that favored maleness and wealth.
And she lived far from Jerusalem, the center of all that is valued and praised.

But as we learned last week, God has a habit of choosing folks who do not consider themselves worthy of receiving such an honor.
Mary would not be the first to respond to God’s call with a question.
Abraham said, "Why me, Lord, am I not too old?"
Jeremiah said, "Why me, Lord, am I not too young?"
Moses and Jonah both said, "Lord, surely there is someone else who is better equipped to do your bidding?"
But Mary didn’t ask, “Why me?” and she didn’t try to get God to choose someone else.
She simply asked, “How can this be?”

Her question appears to come more from astonishment than denial.
It’s the same way we might respond if we’re told we’ve just won a hundred million dollar lottery. (If you can imagine that happening. I’m sure none of us have.)
We might shout out “How can this be?”
It’s a momentary expression of surprise and disbelief because we can’t imagine what we could have done to deserve such a blessing.

And that’s the question that may have been on Mary’s mind.
What have I done to deserve such a blessing?
And the truth is, she didn’t do anything to deserve it.
She did nothing to earn God’s favor.
Because she didn’t need to earn it.

The Angel Gabriel said to Mary, "Greetings, favored one!"
It’s this verse from Luke’s gospel that has we hear echoed in the opening to the familiar prayer  “Hail Mary, full of grace…”
In Luke’s gospel the Greek word used for “favored” shares the same root as the word used for “grace”…and as we all should know by now, we can’t do anything to earn God’s Grace – it is given to us freely.
So we should not be so surprised when we receive it.
But we are surprised, aren’t we?

Regardless of how faithful we are or how often we hear about God’s unconditional grace,
too many of us still think we need to earn it.
Through our obedience, and through demonstrations of our faith.

When I was serving as a hospital chaplain back in Connecticut this past summer, I sat and talked with quite a few folks who were struggling to comprehend where God was in their grief and their pain.
I was consistently confronted with the question, “How can this be?”
But in each case the question was asked not with a tone of joyful astonishment, but rather with mournful resignation.
How can this be?
"How can I have cancer when I have been such a good person all of my life?"
"My mother went to church every Sunday, yet she suffering so much, is this how God rewards her?"
"If I promise God that I will be a better person, will he allow my brother to live?"

These are the questions and the promises that we lay at God’s feet.
The God whom we believe bestows favors and blessings upon those who are obedient and faithful.
But this is not the God of unconditional grace.

The problem may be that we don’t have a clear understanding of what we mean when we talk about God’s grace.
We confuse it with God’s mercy, or God’s forgiveness, and assume that it is something we are given once we take a step towards God - when we repent, or change our ways to be more in line with God’s ways.

But Grace is not mercy or forgiveness.
It is not given to us in response to an action we take.
And it may not even be proper to say that God’s grace is the same as God’s favor, if we think of favor as something that some receive and others do not.

Grace as I understand it is simply this:
Grace is the relationship that God offers to us, and Grace is the way that divine relationship is expressed through us.

We are born into Grace, we were born into a relationship with God the moment we came into existence.  It’s not something we can choose not to have in our life.

Even if we turn our backs towards God in anger or indifference, we still have a relationship with God.     
We may think it’s estranged or nonexistent.
We may think we’re standing far off in a corner, with our arms crossed, and our brows furrowed in disgust.
Or we may feel as if God has abandoned us, and we’ve wandered into a dark corner where God’s light cannot reach.
But in reality God is right there with us, regardless of which direction we’ve turned. 

That’s what grace is.
I have a friend who compared it to standing in an open field with rain pouring from the sky.
Now matter how much we dodge and duck, we’re going to get wet.

And the wonderful thing about God’s grace is that it is an expression of pure Love – so when it flows through us we can’t help but pass it on to others. 
We express God’s grace – the relationship we have with God – by building relationships with others.
By sharing with others the gifts that we’ve been given.
By giving birth to God in this world.


Mary may have only been thirteen.
Before she uttered the words, “Here I am” she may have responded to God’s call with a question – a declaration of uncertainty.
And she may not have had the ability to say yes or no to God’s favor – God’s Grace – because she was born into it just as we all are.
But she did have a say in how that Grace came to be expressed through her.
And she said “Yes” to becoming the mother of God.

Mary gave birth to Jesus, she nursed him, she taught him how to walk and talk, she taught him how to pray.
She encouraged him when he tried new things, and I’m sure she reprimanded him when he pushed back against the rules that she and Joseph had set.
She must have been so proud of him when he began his ministry,
and when he drew the attention of those in power; she must have spent many nights lying awake with worry.
And like all mothers, she undoubtedly tore herself inside out with anguish as she watched him suffer and die.


We don’t know if Mary knew any of this was going to happen when she said “Yes” to becoming the mother of God.
We may chalk it up to adolescent naivety or the fact that as a young girl giving birth in her time and culture there was already a good possibility that neither she nor the child would survive. But this was God’s child and this was a risk she was willing to take.

This is a risk that we are called to take as well.
Every time we express God’s radically inclusive love in this world…
whenever we welcome the stranger, love our enemy, forgive those who trespass against us, and stand up for those who suffer injustice.
This is how WE give birth to God.

The Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor describes it this way:

Like Mary, “You can decide to take part in a plan you did not choose, doing things you don’t know how to do for reasons you don’t entirely understand.
You can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees.
You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body.” [ii]

I love that image, and I love the idea that we’re smuggling God into the world by doing something as subversive as saying “Yes” to giving birth to Grace -
by saying “Yes” to loving others as freely as God loves us.
And we have Mary to thank for being the first to take that risk.

Hail Mary, FULL of Grace.
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
And Blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God
Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.






[i] Luke 1:28
[ii] BBT – Gospel Medicine, Sermon: “Mothers of God”