Co-Workers with God

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

January 19, 2014

Year A: The Second Sunday after Epiphany

Isaiah 49:1-7

Psalm 40:1-12

An Excerpt from A Letter from a Birmingham Jail

John 1:29-42

Co-Workers with God

            Well, if you were in church last Sunday you may be feeling a bit of déjà vu right now.

            Last week we remembered and celebrated the Baptism of Jesus.

            We heard Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism. Jesus presented himself to John the Baptist. It’s a little awkward. At first John the Baptist is understandably reluctant to baptize Jesus, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But, Jesus insists and, we’re told, as he was coming up out of the waters of the Jordan, a voice from heaven declares, “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

            The Baptism of Jesus is a great epiphany – a manifestation of God’s relationship with Jesus the beloved Son – God’s unbreakable bond with Jesus.

            And, in the same way, our baptism is a great epiphany for us – a manifestation of God’s relationship with us – a manifestation of God’s unbreakable bond with us.

            And now here we are back again today.

            And it turns out that our gospel lesson is partly about…the Baptism of Jesus.

            Déjà vu.

            But, this week we heard the account of the baptism of Jesus found in the Gospel of John.

            And, you’ll notice that there are some interesting differences between John’s account that we heard today and Matthew’s take on it that we heard last week.

            To make things slightly less confusing I’m going to call the Gospel of John the Fourth Gospel.

            In the Fourth Gospel, John the Baptist is the narrator. He tells the story of Jesus’ baptism which has already happened at some point in the past.

            Well, actually, if you read or listen carefully, the Fourth Gospel deals with the awkwardness of John baptizing Jesus by skipping over the baptism itself. Here John the Baptist never quite says that he did baptize Jesus. So, on the one hand, the Fourth Gospel gives John the Baptist extra attention by making him the narrator, by giving him the opportunity to be the first to declare that Jesus is the Son of God.

            But on the other hand, John the Baptist is diminished.

            His baptizing ministry is described as simply a way to discover the Lamb of God. And, in the Fourth Gospel, John doesn’t even get to baptize Jesus.

            But, then, look what happens next.

            We’re told that the next day John the Baptist points out Jesus, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!”

            Some of John’s disciples are understandably curious about this “Lamb of God” and they begin to follow Jesus.

            And so, it begins.

            At his baptism, Jesus receives his call from God.           

            And, Jesus won’t live out his call on his own but surrounded by others.

            So, now, Andrew, Peter and others receive their call to follow Jesus.

            There is a special word for a call from God: “vocation.”

            Unfortunately, until pretty recently, that word vocation usually referred only to people who felt called to ordained ministry or to serve as a nun or a monk.

            Certainly when I was growing up that was the sense of the word.

            If someone asked me if I “had a vocation” I knew they were asking if I felt if I wanted to be – if I felt called to be – a priest.

            Fortunately, in more recent times we have rediscovered the profound and powerful truth that all of us - teachers, accountants, cooks, musicians, cleaners, doctors, students, cashiers, editors, soldiers, unemployed people, retired people, volunteers, parents, grandparents, children, aunts, uncles, cousins, priests, worship leaders, vergers, acolytes, choir members, ushers – all of us are called by God – all of us have a vocation.

            And, like Jesus, and like Christians through the centuries, we receive our call – we receive our vocation – at our Baptism.

            In the words of the prayer book, at our Baptism we are called “to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers.”

            At our Baptism we receive our vocation to “persevere in resisting evil, and whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord.”

            At our Baptism we are called to “proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.”

            At our Baptism we receive our vocation to “seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self.”

            At our Baptism we are called to “strive for justice among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.”

            At our Baptism we are called – at our baptism we receive our vocation.

            We receive our vocation - which, let’s be honest, is a lot.

            It’s a lot to remember. And it’s a lot to live out.

            Today as part of our Martin Luther King celebration, we heard an excerpt from Dr. King’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” It’s one of his most famous pieces of writing but we may not know the context.

            Dr. King and others had gone to Birmingham, Alabama, in an effort to desegregate one of the most segregated cities in America. He and others were arrested on April 16, 1963, which happened to be Good Friday that year.

            While he was jailed a group of eight local white clergymen, including the Episcopal bishop of Alabama, issued a statement titled, “A Call for Unity.” They urged those who demanded civil rights to take their fight off the streets and into the courts of law. They rejected Dr. King and the others as “outsiders” who should leave the people of Birmingham to deal with their own issues. And they called for patience. They asked Dr. King and the others to wait.

            In response, Dr. King wrote his famous letter. He wrote it in his jail cell, on scraps of newspaper, which were then smuggled out of jail.

            Reading the excerpt we heard this morning, a sentence jumped out at me:

            “Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co-workers with God…”

            “Co-workers with God.”

            At our Baptism we are called – at our Baptism we receive our vocation.

            And we have lots of words and images to describe our vocation but what it all boils down to is that God calls us to be co-workers.

            We are meant to be co-workers with God.

            And, really, that’s all God has ever wanted – that’s all that God has ever asked of us, isn’t it?

            This past week at Evening Prayer we heard the story of Adam and Eve eating fruit from the Tree of Knowledge – the story of the first disobedience, the first sin, that messed up everything.

            Really all God wanted was for Adam and Eve to work with God to tend the garden.

            And that’s all God really wants now.

            God still gives us our vocation – still calls us to be co-workers.

            Just like all of us, Dr. King was an imperfect human being but in his life and work he answered God’s call – he lived out his vocation to be one of God’s co-workers.

            And, like the Lamb of God, Dr. King ultimately sacrificed his life for his vocation.

            Beginning at our Baptism, right here and now, in this time and place, we are all called, each in our own way, to be co-workers with God.

            God calls each of us to tend our little patch of the garden here: to love the hard to love, to give to outstretched hands, to demand justice for the oppressed, to forgive and forgive again.

            So, this week’s epiphany is that God calls each of us – God calls all of us – to be co-workers with God.

            Dr. King answered God’s call.

            How about us?

            Amen.

The Great Epiphany of Baptism

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

The Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City Nj

January 12, 2014

Year A: The First Sunday after Epiphany

Isaiah 42:1-9

Psalm 29

Acts 10:34-43

Matthew 3:13-17

The Great Epiphany of Baptism

            We are now into the Season of Epiphany – a season that unfortunately sometimes gets lost in the shuffle – a season that sometimes gets overshadowed by Christmas at the start and Lent at the end.

            But, Epiphany is a beautiful season – a season when we hear stories of God’s power and love manifested in and trough Jesus.

            Epiphany is an important season when we are called to remember the ways that God’s power and love has been manifested in our lives – and we’re challenged to consider how God’s power and love might be manifested in the way we live our lives right here and now.

            Epiphany began last week when we remembered the wonderful story of the Magi – the wise men from the East – visiting the newborn Jesus.

            In that story told by the Evangelist Matthew, Jesus is made manifest as the light of God who has entered an often shadowy world – a shadowy world that, in the person of King Herod, immediately sets out to overcome the light – immediately plots to kill Jesus.

            In Jesus the light enters a shadowy world that will in fact eventually kill Jesus. It’s no coincidence that the myrrh that was presented by the Magi to the newborn Jesus is used to embalm dead bodies.

            But, thanks to the empty tomb on Easter Day, we know that despite its best efforts the shadowy and evil powers of the world ultimately will not be able to overcome the light.

            And now today we come to the second epiphany of the season: the Baptism of Jesus. John the Baptist baptizes Jesus.

            You know, even the most skeptical scholars agree that Jesus really was baptized.

            It’s a story told, with minor variations, in the Gospels of Mark, Matthew, and Luke.

            But, that’s not why even the most skeptical scholars are sure that it really happened.

            They are sure that Jesus was baptized because, if you stop and think about it, it’s more than a little weird that Jesus was baptized. It’s almost embarrassing, isn’t it?

            Think about it. First, the gospels go to great lengths to insist that Jesus was far superior to John the Baptist. We’re told that there were more than a few people who thought that John was the messiah. But the gospels insist that John wasn’t the messiah but he was the one who was sent to prepare the way for the true messiah, Jesus.

            And, remember what John’s baptism was all about. John preached and proclaimed a baptism of repentance and forgiveness of sins.

            Yet, the sinless Jesus – the One who had no sin to repent – the One who needed no forgiveness comes to be baptized by John.

            It’s awkward. And we hear some of that awkwardness in the gospel don’t we? When Jesus presents himself to be baptized, John says, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me.”

            Now, if I were writing the gospels, I think I would just delete this scene, skip over the story of Jesus’ baptism. It’s hard to explain so I would just avoid the issue completely.

            But, fortunately, it’s Mark, Matthew and Luke who tell us the story.

            Why do they tell it?

            Well, Jesus’ baptism was probably something that many of Jesus’ early followers had seen or heard about from eyewitnesses. So, those early Jesus’ followers would have insisted that the story needed to be in there.

            And, then, there’s divine inspiration. God wants us to know the story of Jesus’ baptism.

            Why?

            The Baptism of Jesus is about an epiphany – it’s about the manifestation of who Jesus really is.

            That day in the River Jordan God reveals Jesus’ identity. That day in the River Jordan God announces to the world – and maybe even to Jesus himself – who Jesus really is.

            Matthew tells us, “And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from out of the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

            In the water of Baptism, God reveals – God announces – God’s relationship with Jesus.

            “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

            And, once Jesus is baptized, he leaves John behind and sets out on his mission to teach and to heal, to give away his life for others, to bring the light of God into an often shadowy and evil world.

            It’s a life-changing moment for Jesus.

            And, actually, what happens at our baptism is not so different from what happened long ago when Jesus was baptized.

            In the water of Baptism, God reveals – God announces – God’s relationship with us.

            In the water of baptism God reveals – God announces – an unbreakable bond with us.

            And, like Jesus, our mission begins at baptism. It’s at our baptism that we promise to serve and love God and to serve and love our fellow human beings – to give away our lives for others, to bring the light of God into an often shadowy and evil world.

            Now, of course, God remained well pleased with Jesus throughout his earthly life.

            But, speaking just for myself, I’m pretty sure that God has not always been well pleased with me – not well pleased with all the choices I’ve made, with the times I’ve hurt people, when I’ve let them down and let myself down.

            I won’t ask for a show of hands but I bet we all feel the same way.

            Yet, the power of baptism – the beauty of baptism – the promise of baptism – is that there is nothing we can ever do or not do that will break the bond that exists between God and us in baptism.

            In the words of the prayer book: “The bond which God establishes in Baptism is indissoluble.”

            God remained bonded with Jesus throughout his earthly life – through it all – through betrayal, through rejection and through death on the Cross.

            And, in and through our baptism, God remains bonded with us no matter what – bonded with us through it all – through all the ups and downs of our lives – through life and through death and beyond.

            In the water of baptism God reveals – God announces – an unbreakable bond with Jesus.

            In the water of baptism God reveals – God announces – an unbreakable bond with us.

            That’s the great epiphany of Baptism.

            Amen. 

A Journey to the Light

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City

January 6, 2014

Year A: The Epiphany

Isaiah 60:1-6

Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14

Ephesians 3:1-12

Matthew 2:1-12

A Journey to the Light

            For twelve days we’ve celebrated Christmas – the great feast when we remember and celebrate the arrival of the light of Christ into the world.

            Christmas is when we give thanks for the birth of Jesus – we give thanks for God coming into the world in a new, unexpected and unique way.

            The light of the world enters the world born to a couple of nobodies in an out of the way place in primitive conditions.

            The light of the world enters the world – and despite trying really hard – the darkness is never – will never be – able to overcome it.

            Now, today on Epiphany we remember and celebrate the arrival of the Magi, the wise men. It’s a story found only in the Gospel of Matthew. And Matthew tells us very little about them. We’re told they come from the East, following a star that they have observed. They have somehow concluded that this star shining in the sky indicates that a new king – a new king of the Jews – has been born.

            We’re not told how many wise men there were, though the assumption is three based on their three gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  The gifts themselves are powerfully symbolic: gold for a king; incense for a God; myrrh (used for embalming) a symbol of death.

            We’re certainly not told their names, though later tradition calls them Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar.

            We’re not told much about the wise men from the East, but we are told everything we need to know.

            Because, of course, Epiphany is not really about the mysterious visitors from the East, as much as we love the story and include them in our nativity scenes.

            Traditionally, Epiphany has symbolized the fact that Christ has come into the world for the whole world, for Jews and Gentiles. This is important, of course, and definitely worth celebrating, but all of us Gentiles may just shrug and say, “OK, great. But, of course I know that.”

            But, more than the Magi and the inclusion of the Gentiles, more than anything else, Epiphany is about the light.

            Epiphany is about the light that Isaiah prophesied long ago,

            “Arise, shine, for your light has come,

            and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”

            Epiphany is about the light that is symbolized by the star. Epiphany is about the light that enters the world in Jesus Christ.

            Now sometimes that light just about shines right in our faces. Think about St. Paul literally blinded for a time by the light on the road to Damascus – blinded by the light that turned his life around in a totally different direction.

            Sometimes we can’t miss the light, like when we gaze at our newborn child, or when we fall in love, or when we hold the hand of one who is sick or dying.

            But, more often, we have to pay attention to find the light, to see the light.

            Here in Jersey City, sometimes it’s hard to see the light, isn’t it? In fact, here in the city it’s literally hard to see the stars isn’t it?

            But, have you ever been in a place where the sky is free and clear of artificial light? Have you ever been able to look up and get a sense of the vastness of space and the innumerable stars in the sky?

            Well, that’s how it was in the ancient world. The night sky was filled with stars.

            Often in art the star is depicted as being so huge that there’s no way anyone could have missed it. But, I don’t think that was the case at all.

            No, I bet the Magi must have studied the heavens very carefully – must have really paid attention - in order to see the light of the new star.

            Well, now our night skies are clouded and dimmed and in the modern world we have plenty of other distractions that prevent us from seeing the light.

            We’re prevented from seeing the light by the busyness of our lives, by all the noise and endless distractions, by the weight of our responsibilities, by the regrets about the past and the fears of the future.

            Yet, when we’re like the Magi, when we pay attention, sure enough we find the light.

            We find the light in the overflowing generosity and countless kindnesses that are going on all around us. We find the light when someone unexpectedly visits a sick neighbor or friend, or gives a call just to check in on someone who is struggling. We find the light in bins overflowing with food for the poor and hungry. We find the light when prayers are offered for enemies, for the hated and despised. We find the light when people give up their anger and reach out their hands in forgiveness. We find the light in the water of Baptism and in the breaking of the bread and in the cup poured out for us.

            Like the Magi, when we really pay attention we find the light.

            When we pay attention we find the light of Christ.

            Which leaves us with really only one question:

            What do we do when we find the light?

            We can ignore it. We can turn away and look somewhere else. We can reject the light.

            Or, like the Magi long ago, we can – all of us together right here at St. Paul’s - set out on a journey to the light – a journey to the light of Christ that shines in the darkness.

            We already have a Caspar, so, I say, let’s go.

            A blessed Epiphany to us all.

            Amen. 

Missing Jesus

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

January 5, 2014

The Second Sunday after Christmas

Jeremiah 31:7-14

Psalm 84

Ephesians 1:3-6, 15-19a

Luke 2:41-52

Missing Jesus

            Merry Christmas!

            Yes, here in church it’s still Christmas but we’re winding down. Tomorrow is the Feast of the Epiphany – the day that we remember the visit of the Magi – the wise men – to the newborn Jesus.

            It’s a wonderful story. And Epiphany is a big day on the church calendar – a principal feast that marks the end of the Christmas Season. We’ll celebrate this big day here tomorrow evening at 7:30. I hope you’ll join us.

            The word “epiphany” means “manifestation.” And “manifestation” means “revelation” – in this case revelation about Jesus’ identity, ministry and mission.

            Much is revealed about Jesus in the story of the wise men’s visit. Most especially the visit of strangers from afar reveals that the Good News of Jesus is for the whole world.

            Israel’s newborn king is God’s greatest gift for all of us.

            But, the visit of the Magi is just one of many epiphanies. In fact, Monday evening marks the start of a whole season of epiphanies leading up Ash Wednesday and Lent. And there are all the epiphanies – all the manifestations of Christ that we experience in our own lives – all the manifestations of Christ that we experience together, and especially here in this place.

            Today’s gospel lesson, the story of the boy Jesus in the Temple, offers a whole lot of epiphanies about Jesus – manifestations, revelations - of Jesus’ identity, ministry and mission.

            The story of the boy Jesus in the Temple is also a deeply human story.  It’s a story that I’m sure touches parents especially, but also touches all of us who as children or maybe even as adults have wandered away from our parents and families.

            How many of us can remember getting separated from our parents in some public place? I think I’ve told you before that I remember when I was little getting separated from my mother at Two Guys. I remember being so embarrassed when the store employee got on the PA: “Mrs. Murphy, come pick up your son at the Courtesy counter.”

            It’s funny now, but not so amusing at the time.

            And we know only too well that in our broken world sometimes children get separated from their parents and never find their way back home.

            They remain “missing persons.”

            The story of the missing Jesus in the Temple is found only in the Gospel of Luke. And, actually, it’s the only story about Jesus’ childhood in the four gospels.           
            Luke tells the story of Jesus’ family making the annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover. Since it wasn’t an easy trip from Nazareth to Jerusalem, we learn that the people who are raising Jesus take their religious obligations very seriously.

            And we learn that the twelve year-old Jesus shares in these religious responsibilities.

            Days later, after Passover, travelers streamed out of the capital city heading back to their homes. Mary and Joseph would have traveled with a large crowd of relatives and neighbors from Nazareth. They traveled together for safety and for companionship.

            So, it’s no surprise that they didn’t begin to look for their boy until the end of the first day.

            I’m sure every parent in the room can feel in their stomachs some of the panic felt by Mary and Joseph. And we can all feel some of the horrible weight of parental responsibility that they must have felt as the truth sank in: Jesus is missing.

            Jesus is missing.

            They return to Jerusalem and after three days they finally find him in the Temple where, Luke tells us, Jesus was “sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers.”

            Jesus’ parents – in probably a somewhat cleaned up version of what might have really been said – express to him their understandable displeasure.

            And Jesus replies, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

            Luke tells us that Joseph and Mary did not understand.

            And I suspect we don’t understand either.

            At first glance, the story makes Jesus seem a bit like a brat, doesn’t it?

            But, actually, a better translation of Jesus’ reply would be, “Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?”

            Luke then concludes this story with some reassuring language: “then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.”

            So there are several important epiphanies about Jesus in this story.

            Jesus the boy knows the Scriptures but seeks a deeper understanding.

            Jesus feels right at home in the Temple.

            Jesus calls God “his Father.”

            And, yes, Jesus obeys his parents.

            But, what does this old, rich, and wonderful story have to do with us here today?

            Well, I bet, at one time or another, that all of us have felt like we’ve lost Jesus.

            Sometimes it feels like Jesus is missing.

            Sometimes it feels like Jesus is missing because something bad has happened in our lives – a job is lost, bills can’t be paid, a relationship gets broken, an illness strikes, a beloved family member or friend dies.

            Sometimes it feels like Jesus is missing because we go weeks, months, or years without praying. Or when we try to pray we feel nothing; we hear only our own thoughts echoing back to us.

            Sometimes it feels like Jesus is missing because when we come to church we find ourselves just going through the motions – saying the words by rote, bowing, kneeling and all the rest without any feeling or meaning.

            Sometimes it feels like Jesus is missing because the world is a mess. There’s so much violence and poverty – so many missing children – so much suffering.

            I bet, at one time or another, all of us have felt like we’ve lost Jesus.

            Jesus is missing.

            But, you know, and this isn’t a criticism of Mary and Joseph, but thanks to all of the epiphanies that occurred during Jesus’ earthly lifetime – and thanks to all the epiphanies that have happened over the course of Christian history – and thanks to all of the epiphanies that happen right here – we actually know Jesus better than his own parents knew him.

            According to the story, it took them three days before they found Jesus in the Temple doing his Father’s business.

            But, now, even when it feels like Jesus is missing, we know that Jesus is doing his Father’s business. And we know where to find Jesus.

            Jesus is doing his Father’s business – Jesus is found - right here at St. Paul’s when we gather together to retell these old stories, when we sing our songs, when we ask forgiveness, when we reach out our hands in peace - and especially when we take the Body and Blood of Christ into our bodies and into our hearts.

            Jesus is doing his Father’s business – Jesus is found – when we gather here in this special place – all of us – those of us who feel Jesus this close supporting - holding up - those of us who feel nothing, who feel like Jesus is missing.

            Jesus is doing his Father’s business – Jesus is found – when we reach out and help the people closest to his heart, the poorest of the poor, the people searching for shelter in the bitter cold, the people the world rejects as broken, useless and unlovable.

            Finally, we have another big advantage over Mary and Joseph.

            In the story, Jesus seems unconcerned about his parents. Maybe he knew that they would come looking for him and eventually find him. Maybe he wanted to be found in the Temple. Or maybe at some point Jesus would have left the Temple and gone back home to his family in Nazareth.

            I don’t know.

            But, I do know that the Jesus who sometimes feels like he’s missing is always searching for us, determined that we’ll be reunited, eager to find us and invite us to the Temple, to the table, and to life together forever.

            So, like Mary and Joseph, together let’s search for Jesus – let’s search for Jesus who is always about his Father’s business – let’s search for Jesus who is always searching for us.

            Amen. 

Our Relationship Status with God

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

December 29, 2013

The First Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 61:10-62:3

Psalm 147:13-21

Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7

John 1:1-18

Our Relationship Status with God

            Some of you know that I really try to get the word out about St. Paul’s on the social media sites facebook and twitter.

            Part of my daily routine is to get up early in the morning, fix a cup of coffee and then fire up my computer. I try to post something every day on the St. Paul’s facebook page – usually information about the holy man or holy woman we’re honoring that day, reminders about our service schedule or a heads up about upcoming events.

            It’s amazing to me that our facebook page gets so many “hits” – sometimes over a thousand a week - allowing people who aren’t able to be physically present to still be part of our extended community.

            It’s wonderful.

            Then there’s my own personal facebook page. I try each day to post some verses of scripture or a prayer or a quote that I hope might be meaningful to some people. As a rule I almost never post anything about my personal life. I feel like being a priest is already very public and people already know quite a bit about my life, thank you very much.

            But, I do give my basic information. So, people who click on my facebook page know that I live in Jersey City and they know where I went to school and they know that I’m the Rector of St. Paul’s.

            And they also know what facebook calls my “Relationship Status.”

            Actually, facebook offers its users eleven different possible relationship statuses.

            It’s comprehensive list, some statuses very clear while others are deliberately vague. They are: single; in a relationship; engaged; married; in a civil union; in a domestic partnership; in an open relationship; it’s complicated; separated; divorced; widowed.

            There are many people who share big news about their personal lives by changing their facebook relationship status. Getting serious with someone? “Single” is changed to “In a relationship.” A marriage comes to an end? The relationship status is changed. Want to be mysterious? Same thing.

            Lots of times I’ve learned about major life changes among friends and even family through a change in facebook relationship status.

            Relationship status.

            The truth is Christmas commemorates a profound change in our relationship with God.

            For all of us, for all of humanity, God changes our relationship status by becoming one of us in Jesus.

            And we heard reflections on that change in relationship status in the today’s two lessons from the New Testament.

            Today’s Gospel lesson is once again the powerful, achingly beautiful, cosmic view of Christ’s birth offered by the Prologue of the Gospel of John.

            Most scholars agree that the Gospel of John is the last of the four gospels to be completed, probably around the year 100, seventy or so years after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.

            So, the Gospel of John is the product of divine inspiration working through decades of Christian experience – decades of Christian reflection on the meaning of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.

            The author of the Fourth Gospel proclaims that God has come among us in Jesus of Nazareth – that when we look at Jesus we see God - and now everything has changed.

            “From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.”

            In and through Jesus, God changes our relationship status.

            Probably no one understood this change in relationship status better than St. Paul.

            As we were reminded just the other day on the Feast of St. Stephen, Paul (or Saul as he was known then) was a Pharisee and a persecutor of the first followers of Jesus. He kept an eye on everyone’s coats as they stoned Stephen to death.

            But after his dramatic conversion experience, Paul has the remarkable and unexpected insight that Jesus is the Messiah not only for Israel but of the whole world.

            Paul has the insight that through Christ our relationship with God has changed – we are no longer slaves but are now God’s beloved children.

            And Paul has the insight that through Christ our relationship with each other has changed – we are no longer Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male or female, but one in Christ. We are beloved sisters and brothers.

            Our relationship status has changed.

            And we hear Paul describe that change of relationship status in today’s lesson from the Letter to the Galatians.

            The letter is written much earlier than the Gospel of John, probably around the year 55, just two decades after the Resurrection. Paul is writing to mostly non-Jews, Gentiles, in churches, small Christian communities, that he founded.

            But, it’s not just a “Hi, how are things going?” letter. No, Paul has gotten word that others – probably Jewish Christians – have brought a different gospel to the Galatians. It seems that these Jewish-Christians are telling the Galatians that in order to follow Jesus they must – even though they aren’t Jews – follow the Jewish Law.

            And some of the Galatians seem to be doing just that.

            Well, Paul is infuriated. He’s angry because the Jewish-Christians deny Paul’s status as an apostle. (I’m sure you’ve all heard what happened to Stephen!) And, Paul’s upset because they seem to be missing the whole point of the gospel: in and through Jesus everything has changed.

            Our relationship status with God has changed.

            So, Paul writes to the Galatians, reminding them of the story:

            “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts crying ‘Abba! Father!’ So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.”

            Our relationship status with God has changed from “slave” to “adopted child” and “heir.”

            On facebook when you look at your own page you’re reminded of your relationship status. And when we look at other people’s pages we can see their relationship status.

            Well, one of the reasons we come here to church week after week is to be reminded of our relationship status with God.

            We come here and are reminded that in and through Christ our relationship status with God has changed.

            Our big challenge is to live our lives with love and integrity and faithfulness so that our family, friends and neighbors are able to look at us, to listen to us, and see our relationship status with God – to see that in Christ we are beloved children of God.

            May it be so.

            Amen. 

Tired of Christmas?

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

December 25, 2013

Christmas Day

Isaiah 52:7-10

Hebrews 1:1-4

Psalm 98

John 1:1-14

Tired of Christmas?

            Merry Christmas!

            Here in church we’ve just gotten started celebrating Christmas.

            We took Advent very seriously. During the four Sundays of Advent, here in church and maybe in our lives outside of church, we tried, with God’s help, to slow down at least a little. During Advent we tried, with God’s help, to be a little quieter than usual.

            During Advent, we prepared with John the Baptist, reflecting on the ways that our ways are not God’s ways – and repenting, aiming, with God’s help, to turn our lives around in a God-ward direction.

            During Advent, we prepared with Mary, the young girl who said “yes” to God and carried God into the world in the most intimate way imaginable.

            And during Advent we prepared with Joseph, the righteous man who from the start offers mercy to Mary and her unborn child and, in the end, is willing to risk something big for God.

            And then on Sunday, after our service, we finally moved into Christmas.

            It was a little chaotic in here, with parishioners putting up Christmas wreaths, flowers and decorations; the choir rehearsing; the acolytes being put through their paces; and the girls practicing their dance moves.

            It was crazy-busy on Sunday afternoon, but it all was done out of love and joy – it was all done so we could offer God – and so we could offer our community – our best thanksgiving for God’s greatest gift, Jesus.

            Merry Christmas!

            Here in church we’ve just started celebrating Christmas.

            But, of course, out in the world a lot of people seem to have been celebrating Christmas since, what, Halloween? Or maybe even earlier.

            By now, by Christmas morning, much of the world – including maybe some of us – may be just plain tired of Christmas – or just plain tired.

            One year when I was in my early twenties and unemployed, I took a job at Macy’s Herald Square during the so-called Christmas season.

            I spent about three months working in the store’s book department. It’s long gone now, but back then Macy’s actually had a pretty good book department.

            There were some things about the job that I liked.

            First of all, I needed the money. So that was good.

            And I loved working around books.

            And I loved being in the middle of the city at that time of year.

            But, there were other things I didn’t love so much – and that convinced me that I never wanted to work retail again.

            Many of the customers – even in the book department – were stressed out by the holiday and willing, either consciously or unconsciously, to take out their stress on the help.

            It was also physically exhausting work.

            I was young then but I remember being so tired – and my feet were so sore – by the time I got home.

            And, finally, after a while, I just got tired of Christmas.

            Of course, Christmas music was piped throughout the store. But the book department was right across the hall from “Santa Land” so there was also other Christmas music, along with the screams of hundreds of excited and impatient children, echoing across the hall, and into our department – making for a cacophony of holiday “cheer.”

            Tired of Christmas.

            Of course, it’s not just people working retail who get tired of Christmas.

            I think of parents, who on top of all that they do day in and day out, work so hard to provide a beautiful holiday for their children.

            I remember my own parents on Christmas morning when I was a kid.

            My sister and I (though more me than her, to be perfectly honest) would usually get up very, very early on Christmas morning – more like sometime during Christmas night – because we just couldn’t wait another minute to open our gifts under the Christmas tree.

            My parents would without fail join us and share in our excitement and joy.

            I never gave it a thought at the time, but they probably could have used at least a little more sleep.

            Maybe some of you’ve had a similar experience.

            So, after months of what the world calls the Christmas season and these busy, busy, last few days, it’s perfectly understandable if we’re feeling just a little tired of Christmas.

            And, whether we’re bursting with excitement and joy or just plain tired or even maybe depressed by the holiday cheer that we’re not feeling, this Christmas morning we’ve all come to the right place.

            Last night, we heard the story of Jesus’ birth as told by the evangelist Luke. It’s a very earthy story of the heavily pregnant Mary and her fiancée the good man Joseph making their way from Nazareth to Bethlehem where she gives birth to her son and places him into an animal’s feeding trough, the best she and Joseph could do for the Son of God.

            It’s a glorious story of angels appearing to shepherds, proclaiming the most amazing – the best – news of all time: the Messiah, the Savior, the Lord is born nearby. Naturally, the shepherds go to check this out for themselves. And discover that it’s all true.

            But today, we heard a very different Nativity story – the story of Jesus’ birth as told by the evangelist John.

            John pulls way back – way back from Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and the angels.

            Using some of the most powerful and beautiful language of all time, John gives us the really wide view – the cosmic view - of Jesus’ birth.

            “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

            The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not – does not – overcome it.

            We weren’t in Bethlehem with Mary and Joseph and the angels and the shepherds.

            But, this morning, we celebrate the most amazing – the best – news of all time.

            In and through Jesus, the light of God has entered the world.

            In and through Jesus, including right here in Jersey City, right here at St. Paul’s, the light of God continues to enter the world.

            And the darkness of the world – the darkness of our tiredness, the darkness of our burdens, the darkness of whatever makes us sad, the darkness of poverty and homelessness - the darkness of this violent and broken world has not and can never overcome the light of Christ.

            Just look around.

            So, whether you’re tired or bursting with excitement, merry, merry Christmas to all of you – Merry Christmas to us all.

            Amen.