St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
December 26, 2010
The First Sunday after Christmas
Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Psalm 147
Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7
John 1:1-18
Our Part in the Christmas Pageant
In my Christmas sermons I’ve been talking about how last Friday the children of our day school put on a really wonderful Christmas pageant. The teachers obviously did a great job in choosing kids for their roles and rehearsing them to move and sing on cue. The church was full of delighted parents and grandparents.
I was especially moved by the little girl who played Mary. She entered the church with great solemnity, carrying her baby doll Jesus. She gently placed the newborn messiah into the crib. And then at the end of the pageant, she picked him up again and bore the Son of God out into the world.
After the pageant, the excited children and parents took pictures, visited with St. Nicholas, ate snacks and then went off to continue preparing for Christmas.
As I’ve thought about it, there was only one thing missing from our Christmas pageant. At my former parish in New Jersey, at the end of the pageant an older child would stand, holding a candle, and recite from memory the grand, cosmic verses we just heard from the prologue to John’s gospel:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was 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.”
I felt the absence of those profound words. Written sometime around the end of the First Century, John’s gospel is the product of divine inspiration and also the product of decades of Jesus-followers reflecting on the meaning of Jesus’ birth, life, death and resurrection.
I wonder how many of the parents made time to really reflect on the meaning of the drama that their children had acted out so well. What was the point of all that hard work to prepare for the Christmas pageant? I worry that instead it was on to the next thing – Christmas shopping and decorating or the other tasks that can fill the days before Christmas.
And I wonder how many of us here make time to reflect on what we have remembered – what we have experienced – these last few days. What was the point of it all?
Both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at St. Michael’s were wonderful gifts. The music was spectacular. The church looked – and still looks – beautiful. You could feel the joy in this place.
And now, today, for those of us who dragged ourselves out of bed this morning, the church offers the opportunity to reflect on what it all means. What’s the point of Christmas?
Of course, Christians have been reflecting on the meaning of Christ’s birth for a long time. And over that time, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we’ve come to understand that Christ’s birth to a couple of nobodies in the humblest of circumstances marked the beginning of God’s bold move to restore and transform the good creation that had gone terribly wrong – the good creation that had been disfigured and broken by human sin.
During his many years of traveling around the Mediterranean, St. Paul must have spent a lot of time reflecting on the meaning of Jesus entering the world.
Paul was someone who never met Jesus during his earthly lifetime yet was transformed by a dramatic encounter with the resurrected Christ. Paul was transformed from a persecutor of Christians into an apostle who gave away his life for Christ.
This morning we heard a snippet of Paul’s letter to the Galatians, probably written around the year 55. Because Paul had started Christian communities in Galatia, part of modern-day Turkey, his readers would have been very familiar with Paul’s understanding of the meaning of Christ’s birth, life, death and resurrection.
After Paul left them it seems that some other Jewish Christians arrived among the Galatians and were insisting that non-Jewish, gentile, Christians must follow Jewish Law. When he got wind of this development, an unhappy Paul fired off his letter to the Galatians.
Because the Galatians were already familiar with Paul’s thought he could cut right to the chase. Paul reminds the Galatians that because creation was disfigured and broken by human sin, the Law was given basically to keep us in line. Paul sees the Law as a disciplinarian – literally a house slave whose job it was to discipline the master’s children.
Paul understands that the birth of Christ marks the beginning of God’s bold move to restore and transform creation – to restore and transform us. Paul himself was transformed by his encounter with Christ, so he understand that, if we are open, all of us can be transformed by our encounter with Christ from slaves of sin to children of God.
The Gospel of John was written about forty years after Paul’s letter. John offers an even more cosmic view of Christ’s birth in the humblest of circumstances. John explicitly reaches back to the moment of creation in the opening of his gospel, “In the beginning.”
John identifies the Word as God’s creative power. “All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.”
John doesn’t need to tell us how everything got messed up because we all know the story – we’ve all experienced the story. The good creation created by the Word of God was disfigured and broken by human sin.
And so in the birth of Christ God made the bold move to restore and transform creation. In his version of the nativity story, John doesn’t tell us about Mary and Joseph, the manger, the shepherds or the wise men. In his nativity story, John offers the meaning behind the birth of Christ.
“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
In the Christmas pageant, the little girl who played Mary solemnly carried her baby doll Jesus up the aisle and carefully placed him in the crib. She captured the holy moment when two thousand years ago in the humblest of circumstances Mary brought into the world the person in whom we see and hear what God is really like. On that first Christmas “the Word of God became flesh and dwelt among us.”
In a feeding trough in Bethlehem, God’s restoration and transformation of the world had begun.
Christian reflection on the meaning of Christmas didn’t end with the Gospel of John, of course. Christians have continued to reflect on the meaning of Christ’s birth, life, death and resurrection right up to the present day
A second century bishop named Irenaeus offers us a special insight into the meaning of Christmas as the beginning of God’s bold move to restore and transform the world.
Because of human sin, things had gone terribly wrong. God’s good creation had been broken and disfigured. But now, through Jesus, God offers us what Irenaeus “recapitulation” – a fancy word for a do-over, a second chance, the opportunity to work with God to restore creation to what it was always meant to be.
Today on this first Sunday after Christmas the church offers us a chance to reflect on the meaning behind the amazing events of two thousand years ago.
The Christmas pageant offered the children of our school the chance to act out the drama.
But, the truth is, the point of it all, is that all of us Christians have the opportunity to play our parts in the great drama.
In the birth of Christ, God has made the bold move of beginning the restoration and transformation of creation.
God’s restoration and transformation continues in and through us. Each time we open our hearts to love God and to love one another, we play a part in God’s restoration and transformation of the world.
Each time, like Joseph, we choose mercy over the rules, then we play a part in God’s restoration and transformation of the world.
Each time, like the shepherds and the wise men, we find Christ in the humblest of circumstances, then we play a part in God’s restoration and transformation of the world.
Each time, like the angels, we sing the praises of God, then we play a part in God’s restoration and transformation of the world.
And, each time, like Mary, we bear Christ out through those doors, we play a part in God’s restoration and transformation of the world.
On this First Sunday after Christmas the good news, the exciting news, the challenging news is that all of us have a role to play in the great Christmas pageant – God’s great Christmas pageant of restoring and transforming the world.
Merry Christmas!
Amen.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
The God-Bearers
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville, FL
December 25, 2010
Christmas Day
Isaiah 62:6-12
Psalm 97
Titus 3:4-7
Luke 2:1-20
The God-Bearers
Merry Christmas!
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas Eve and that this joyous morning is off to a great start.
I’m sure many of you have special Christmas traditions – certain foods that you prepare or eat, certain music you listen to or sing along with. Maybe there’s some special Christmas clothing you wear. Many families have Christmas decorations that have been passed down for a generation or two, or even longer.
When I was growing up, my sister and I had the tradition of getting up really early on Christmas morning to discover what gifts had been left under the Christmas tree. Maybe you did the same thing. This tradition wasn’t so popular with our parents, I guess, who sat with us bleary-eyed, watching us open our gifts.
Here in church, of course, there are lots of Christmas traditions, ranging from the hymns we sing to the prayers we say to the flowers we place around our sanctuary.
One beloved Christmas tradition in many churches is the Christmas pageant when the children act out the great drama of Christ’s birth. Some children get to wear angel wings. One child gets to carry the star. Others get to dress up as shepherds or wise men from the East. One little boy gets to be Joseph, our Lord’s adopted father. And one little girl gets to be the Virgin Mary, the young woman who is at the center of the events leading up to Jesus’ birth.
Last Friday the children of our day school put on their Christmas pageant right here in church. It was wonderful seeing the kids in their costumes, the teachers coaching them and prompting them, and the parents and grandparents filled with joy and wonder.
The little girl who played Mary was just amazing. I mentioned in my sermon last night how she looked so solemn carrying her baby doll Jesus, as she and the boy playing Joseph made their way up the center aisle.
With her simple dignity, this little girl captured the essence of Mary, the young woman who said yes to the awesome responsibility of carrying the Son of God into the world.
With her simple dignity, this little girl captured the essence of Mary, the young woman who, after giving birth in the humblest of circumstances, received both shepherds and wise men. And, as Luke tells us, Mary pondered it all in her heart.
By the Third Century, Christians had done a lot of pondering and praying about Mary and her unique and awesome responsibility of carrying the Son of God into the world. Greek-speaking Christians coined a new name, a new title, for Mary: theotokos, the God-bearer.
Those early Christians recognized and celebrated Mary as the bearer of God. For the nine months of her pregnancy Mary carried the Son of God within her body and on that first Christmas, she bore the Son of God into the world – into the same, messy, dangerous and yet beautiful world where you and I live.
Mary is theotokos, the God-bearer.
During the Christmas pageant, there was a little crib set up right here under the pulpit. When Mary and Joseph made their way up here, Mary very carefully, tenderly, and, yes, solemnly, placed her baby doll Jesus into the crib.
Once Jesus was settled in his crib, then the drama featuring angels and shepherds and wise men and wonderful music unfolded before us.
Then before we knew it the pageant was over. The parents and grandparents were congratulating the children and their teachers. Photos of cute kids in cute costumes were being taken.
As things were wrapping up, the little girl who had played Mary took a few steps away from the crib, ready to get on with the rest of her day. Suddenly she stopped, took a few steps back, reached into the crib, and took out her baby doll Jesus. Then she made her way out of the church, carrying Jesus out into the world.
As I thought about that amazing little scene, I realized that in this post-pageant moment the little girl had captured something else essential about Mary. She didn’t stop being theotokos – she didn’t stop being the God-bearer when the months of her pregnancy were over.
Mary continued to be the God-bearer during Jesus’ childhood. Mary continued to be the God-bearer when Jesus began to teach and to heal and began to get in trouble with the authorities.
Mary continued to be the God-bearer at the foot of the cross.
And after the resurrection, I’m sure Mary continued to be the God-bearer as she witnessed to all that she had experienced and had pondered in her heart long ago. Mary continued to be the God-bearer as she told others about the great things the Mighty One had done for her and for all of humanity.
I’m sure Mary continued to be the God-bearer for the rest of her life. But, by then, she wasn’t alone. All of those whose lives had been transformed by their encounter with Jesus had now become God-bearers, too.
All of the people who formed the Body of Christ here on earth became God-bearers.
And what was true in the First Century among the first followers of Jesus is equally true for us now in the Twenty-First Century.
You and I are the Body of Christ here and now. You and I are today’s God-bearers.
And just like the little girl playing Mary who remembered to carry her baby doll Jesus out into the world, so too, you and I need to remember that we are to carry Jesus – we are to be God-bearers – when we walk through the church doors and out into Gainesville, out into the world.
To be a God-bearer means to be like Mary. To be a God-bearer means to love God and to love God’s people.
To be a God-bearer means to give our lives in service to Jesus, the Son of God. Today on Christmas we celebrate that Mary was willing to be theotokos – to be the God-bearer – willing to bring the Son of God into the world.
And today on Christmas we also celebrate that today in this messy, dangerous yet beautiful world, you and I are also called to be God-bearers.
Today we are given the awesome privilege and responsibility to bring the good news of Jesus out there, into the world.
Merry Christmas and Amen!
December 25, 2010
Christmas Day
Isaiah 62:6-12
Psalm 97
Titus 3:4-7
Luke 2:1-20
The God-Bearers
Merry Christmas!
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas Eve and that this joyous morning is off to a great start.
I’m sure many of you have special Christmas traditions – certain foods that you prepare or eat, certain music you listen to or sing along with. Maybe there’s some special Christmas clothing you wear. Many families have Christmas decorations that have been passed down for a generation or two, or even longer.
When I was growing up, my sister and I had the tradition of getting up really early on Christmas morning to discover what gifts had been left under the Christmas tree. Maybe you did the same thing. This tradition wasn’t so popular with our parents, I guess, who sat with us bleary-eyed, watching us open our gifts.
Here in church, of course, there are lots of Christmas traditions, ranging from the hymns we sing to the prayers we say to the flowers we place around our sanctuary.
One beloved Christmas tradition in many churches is the Christmas pageant when the children act out the great drama of Christ’s birth. Some children get to wear angel wings. One child gets to carry the star. Others get to dress up as shepherds or wise men from the East. One little boy gets to be Joseph, our Lord’s adopted father. And one little girl gets to be the Virgin Mary, the young woman who is at the center of the events leading up to Jesus’ birth.
Last Friday the children of our day school put on their Christmas pageant right here in church. It was wonderful seeing the kids in their costumes, the teachers coaching them and prompting them, and the parents and grandparents filled with joy and wonder.
The little girl who played Mary was just amazing. I mentioned in my sermon last night how she looked so solemn carrying her baby doll Jesus, as she and the boy playing Joseph made their way up the center aisle.
With her simple dignity, this little girl captured the essence of Mary, the young woman who said yes to the awesome responsibility of carrying the Son of God into the world.
With her simple dignity, this little girl captured the essence of Mary, the young woman who, after giving birth in the humblest of circumstances, received both shepherds and wise men. And, as Luke tells us, Mary pondered it all in her heart.
By the Third Century, Christians had done a lot of pondering and praying about Mary and her unique and awesome responsibility of carrying the Son of God into the world. Greek-speaking Christians coined a new name, a new title, for Mary: theotokos, the God-bearer.
Those early Christians recognized and celebrated Mary as the bearer of God. For the nine months of her pregnancy Mary carried the Son of God within her body and on that first Christmas, she bore the Son of God into the world – into the same, messy, dangerous and yet beautiful world where you and I live.
Mary is theotokos, the God-bearer.
During the Christmas pageant, there was a little crib set up right here under the pulpit. When Mary and Joseph made their way up here, Mary very carefully, tenderly, and, yes, solemnly, placed her baby doll Jesus into the crib.
Once Jesus was settled in his crib, then the drama featuring angels and shepherds and wise men and wonderful music unfolded before us.
Then before we knew it the pageant was over. The parents and grandparents were congratulating the children and their teachers. Photos of cute kids in cute costumes were being taken.
As things were wrapping up, the little girl who had played Mary took a few steps away from the crib, ready to get on with the rest of her day. Suddenly she stopped, took a few steps back, reached into the crib, and took out her baby doll Jesus. Then she made her way out of the church, carrying Jesus out into the world.
As I thought about that amazing little scene, I realized that in this post-pageant moment the little girl had captured something else essential about Mary. She didn’t stop being theotokos – she didn’t stop being the God-bearer when the months of her pregnancy were over.
Mary continued to be the God-bearer during Jesus’ childhood. Mary continued to be the God-bearer when Jesus began to teach and to heal and began to get in trouble with the authorities.
Mary continued to be the God-bearer at the foot of the cross.
And after the resurrection, I’m sure Mary continued to be the God-bearer as she witnessed to all that she had experienced and had pondered in her heart long ago. Mary continued to be the God-bearer as she told others about the great things the Mighty One had done for her and for all of humanity.
I’m sure Mary continued to be the God-bearer for the rest of her life. But, by then, she wasn’t alone. All of those whose lives had been transformed by their encounter with Jesus had now become God-bearers, too.
All of the people who formed the Body of Christ here on earth became God-bearers.
And what was true in the First Century among the first followers of Jesus is equally true for us now in the Twenty-First Century.
You and I are the Body of Christ here and now. You and I are today’s God-bearers.
And just like the little girl playing Mary who remembered to carry her baby doll Jesus out into the world, so too, you and I need to remember that we are to carry Jesus – we are to be God-bearers – when we walk through the church doors and out into Gainesville, out into the world.
To be a God-bearer means to be like Mary. To be a God-bearer means to love God and to love God’s people.
To be a God-bearer means to give our lives in service to Jesus, the Son of God. Today on Christmas we celebrate that Mary was willing to be theotokos – to be the God-bearer – willing to bring the Son of God into the world.
And today on Christmas we also celebrate that today in this messy, dangerous yet beautiful world, you and I are also called to be God-bearers.
Today we are given the awesome privilege and responsibility to bring the good news of Jesus out there, into the world.
Merry Christmas and Amen!
Friday, December 24, 2010
God at the Margins
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9:2-7
Psalm 96
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-20
God at the Margins
Well, we made it. It’s Christmas!
Whether you’ve been preparing for months, weeks, or just the last couple of days, or even just the last few hours, ready or not, Christmas is here.
For me, it first began to feel like Christmas last Friday right here in church the children of our day school put on their annual Christmas pageant. I had the privilege of serving as narrator from right here in the pulpit, giving me a great view of the whole production. The children and their teachers had been preparing for many weeks – assigning the key roles, practicing songs, gathering costumes, trying to remember cues and memorize lyrics.
When the big day came, the church was full of excited parents and grandparents. Of course, the children were adorable, decked out in angel wings or tinsel crowns or vaguely Middle Eastern looking robes and headgear. As you’d expect, some of the kids were nervous, spending most of their stage time shyly looking down at the floor. Meanwhile others were looking right out into the crowd, beaming with confidence.
I was most impressed by the little girl wearing a blue veil who played Mary. She looked so solemn and serious when she and the little boy playing Joseph made their way up the center aisle. They really looked like they were carrying out a profoundly important responsibility – which, of course they were. Mary looked totally focused on the baby doll, standing in for the newborn Jesus, that she cradled in her arm.
When they got right here, below the pulpit, Mary gently placed her baby, the newborn messiah, into his crib – a crib much more comfortable than an animal’s feeding trough.
All eyes in church were on Mary and Joseph and their child. Cameras – or mostly camera phones – were clicking away, recording this event for posterity.
The Christmas pageant was beautiful. It captured perfectly the joy we should all feel in our hearts when we remember the birth of the Savior, the birth of the Messiah, the birth of the Lord.
Yet, in some key respects the Christmas pageant was very different from the events depicted by Luke in his account of the birth of Jesus.
In telling the story of Jesus’ birth, Luke emphasizes that the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord, was born in very difficult and very humble circumstances to a couple of nobodies.
Luke begins his story by mentioning a couple of big shots – Augustus, the Roman emperor who many at the time saw as the lord and savior of the world since he ruled over what was considered a time of peace and stability. Luke also mentions Quirinius, the local Roman governor. We can imagine the splendor in which Augustus and even Quirinius lived. We can imagine the power that was in their hands.
In a real sense, in the First Century all eyes were on Augustus and his underlings like Quirinius. All eyes were on Augustus because, with good reason, people believed that it was Augustus and kings and governors, the high and the mighty, who had the real power and who seemed to at the center of all.
In stark contrast, there were almost no eyes on Mary and Joseph as they brought Jesus into the world. God enters the world not as the center of attention. God enters the world on the margins, born to two people who couldn’t provide anything better than an animal’s feeding trough for their newborn son.
Now that I live here in Gainesville, I imagine Mary and Joseph and their newborn child huddled in some shadowed corner downtown or huddled in the isolated field behind our own church, watching over their newborn child placed carefully in a cardboard box salvaged from a pile of recycling.
Luke’s point is that two thousand years ago the real power was not with the emperor and his underlings. It turns out the real power – the greatest power of all – was at the margins of society, with a child born to a homeless couple.
Of course, from the start there were a few eyes on Mary and Joseph and the newborn Jesus. The angel didn’t announce the birth of the savior to the emperor and his underlings. Instead the angel announced Christ’s birth to shepherds, “keeping watch over their flock by night.”
Shepherds were important to the local economy, but they were pretty low in status. The shepherds lived and did their tedious work on the margins of society. Yet, Luke tells us, they are the ones who are first invited to see Jesus.
On Christmas we are called to remember that God enters the world on the margins.
And Jesus lived his life on the margins of society. Jesus didn’t spend too much time with the seemingly rich and the apparently powerful. Jesus shared God’s love and mercy with them, but, no surprise, they don’t seem to have been too receptive to him.
Jesus, the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord, spent his life on the margins of society, spending his time among fishermen, tax collectors, lepers and women.
And ultimately Mary’s son Jesus will die on the margins of society, shamefully executed as a common criminal, abandoned by nearly everyone. But, his mother, the same Mary who said yes to the angel, the same Mary who pondered in her heart all the things she had seen and heard concerning her son’s birth, the same Mary will stand at the foot of the cross and watch her son die in agony.
We can only imagine the pain.
And we can only imagine Mary’s joy when, three days later on Easter, God revealed once and for ever that what the world considers the margins is actually the center of all.
We can only imagine Mary’s reaction when three days later God revealed that what had looked like shame and death was actually the beginning of God’s bold move to restore and transform the world.
And around two thousand years later the children and teachers of the St. Michael’s Day School spent weeks preparing to reenact the events that once seemed to be on the margins but really were always at center stage.
Last Friday, here at St. Michael’s, all eyes were on a little girl in a blue veil as she solemnly carried a baby doll standing in for the newborn messiah. All eyes were on Mary as she carefully placed her baby, the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord, into his crib – a crib much more comfortable than an animal’s feeding trough.
It’s Christmas Eve and here in our beautifully decorated church our eyes are on Jesus the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord.
But, what happens during the rest of the year? After the Christmas decorations come down and the nativity set is put away, where do we look to see true power? Do we look to the rich, the famous, those who seem to be in charge? Do we look to the modern-day emperors and their underlings?
Or do we look to the margins? Do we look to the shadowed corners downtown and isolated fields where we just might find Christ with his unlikely band of followers?
On Christmas, God entered the world at the margins.
And in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God reveals to us that what appears to be weak is actually strong; what appears to be poor is actually rich; and what appears to be on the margins is actually at the center of all.
Thanks be to God!
Amen.
December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9:2-7
Psalm 96
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-20
God at the Margins
Well, we made it. It’s Christmas!
Whether you’ve been preparing for months, weeks, or just the last couple of days, or even just the last few hours, ready or not, Christmas is here.
For me, it first began to feel like Christmas last Friday right here in church the children of our day school put on their annual Christmas pageant. I had the privilege of serving as narrator from right here in the pulpit, giving me a great view of the whole production. The children and their teachers had been preparing for many weeks – assigning the key roles, practicing songs, gathering costumes, trying to remember cues and memorize lyrics.
When the big day came, the church was full of excited parents and grandparents. Of course, the children were adorable, decked out in angel wings or tinsel crowns or vaguely Middle Eastern looking robes and headgear. As you’d expect, some of the kids were nervous, spending most of their stage time shyly looking down at the floor. Meanwhile others were looking right out into the crowd, beaming with confidence.
I was most impressed by the little girl wearing a blue veil who played Mary. She looked so solemn and serious when she and the little boy playing Joseph made their way up the center aisle. They really looked like they were carrying out a profoundly important responsibility – which, of course they were. Mary looked totally focused on the baby doll, standing in for the newborn Jesus, that she cradled in her arm.
When they got right here, below the pulpit, Mary gently placed her baby, the newborn messiah, into his crib – a crib much more comfortable than an animal’s feeding trough.
All eyes in church were on Mary and Joseph and their child. Cameras – or mostly camera phones – were clicking away, recording this event for posterity.
The Christmas pageant was beautiful. It captured perfectly the joy we should all feel in our hearts when we remember the birth of the Savior, the birth of the Messiah, the birth of the Lord.
Yet, in some key respects the Christmas pageant was very different from the events depicted by Luke in his account of the birth of Jesus.
In telling the story of Jesus’ birth, Luke emphasizes that the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord, was born in very difficult and very humble circumstances to a couple of nobodies.
Luke begins his story by mentioning a couple of big shots – Augustus, the Roman emperor who many at the time saw as the lord and savior of the world since he ruled over what was considered a time of peace and stability. Luke also mentions Quirinius, the local Roman governor. We can imagine the splendor in which Augustus and even Quirinius lived. We can imagine the power that was in their hands.
In a real sense, in the First Century all eyes were on Augustus and his underlings like Quirinius. All eyes were on Augustus because, with good reason, people believed that it was Augustus and kings and governors, the high and the mighty, who had the real power and who seemed to at the center of all.
In stark contrast, there were almost no eyes on Mary and Joseph as they brought Jesus into the world. God enters the world not as the center of attention. God enters the world on the margins, born to two people who couldn’t provide anything better than an animal’s feeding trough for their newborn son.
Now that I live here in Gainesville, I imagine Mary and Joseph and their newborn child huddled in some shadowed corner downtown or huddled in the isolated field behind our own church, watching over their newborn child placed carefully in a cardboard box salvaged from a pile of recycling.
Luke’s point is that two thousand years ago the real power was not with the emperor and his underlings. It turns out the real power – the greatest power of all – was at the margins of society, with a child born to a homeless couple.
Of course, from the start there were a few eyes on Mary and Joseph and the newborn Jesus. The angel didn’t announce the birth of the savior to the emperor and his underlings. Instead the angel announced Christ’s birth to shepherds, “keeping watch over their flock by night.”
Shepherds were important to the local economy, but they were pretty low in status. The shepherds lived and did their tedious work on the margins of society. Yet, Luke tells us, they are the ones who are first invited to see Jesus.
On Christmas we are called to remember that God enters the world on the margins.
And Jesus lived his life on the margins of society. Jesus didn’t spend too much time with the seemingly rich and the apparently powerful. Jesus shared God’s love and mercy with them, but, no surprise, they don’t seem to have been too receptive to him.
Jesus, the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord, spent his life on the margins of society, spending his time among fishermen, tax collectors, lepers and women.
And ultimately Mary’s son Jesus will die on the margins of society, shamefully executed as a common criminal, abandoned by nearly everyone. But, his mother, the same Mary who said yes to the angel, the same Mary who pondered in her heart all the things she had seen and heard concerning her son’s birth, the same Mary will stand at the foot of the cross and watch her son die in agony.
We can only imagine the pain.
And we can only imagine Mary’s joy when, three days later on Easter, God revealed once and for ever that what the world considers the margins is actually the center of all.
We can only imagine Mary’s reaction when three days later God revealed that what had looked like shame and death was actually the beginning of God’s bold move to restore and transform the world.
And around two thousand years later the children and teachers of the St. Michael’s Day School spent weeks preparing to reenact the events that once seemed to be on the margins but really were always at center stage.
Last Friday, here at St. Michael’s, all eyes were on a little girl in a blue veil as she solemnly carried a baby doll standing in for the newborn messiah. All eyes were on Mary as she carefully placed her baby, the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord, into his crib – a crib much more comfortable than an animal’s feeding trough.
It’s Christmas Eve and here in our beautifully decorated church our eyes are on Jesus the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord.
But, what happens during the rest of the year? After the Christmas decorations come down and the nativity set is put away, where do we look to see true power? Do we look to the rich, the famous, those who seem to be in charge? Do we look to the modern-day emperors and their underlings?
Or do we look to the margins? Do we look to the shadowed corners downtown and isolated fields where we just might find Christ with his unlikely band of followers?
On Christmas, God entered the world at the margins.
And in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God reveals to us that what appears to be weak is actually strong; what appears to be poor is actually rich; and what appears to be on the margins is actually at the center of all.
Thanks be to God!
Amen.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Gospel of God
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
December 19, 2010
Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 7:10-16
Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25
The Gospel of God
Today’s second lesson was the opening of Paul’s letter to the Christians in Rome. This is the only existing letter of Paul that was written to a congregation that he hadn’t started or hadn’t already visited. Paul knows some of the people in the early Christian community of Rome, but he hasn’t yet been in the empire’s capital city.
Paul begins his letter by boldly introducing himself as “a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the Gospel of God.”
The Gospel of God. It’s an unusual expression, isn’t it?
You may know the word “Gospel” means “good news.” Of course, we talk about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and we talk about the four individual gospels, Matthew, Mark , Luke and John.
But, we don’t usually use the expression the “Gospel of God.”
And just what is the Gospel of God? What is the “good news” of God?
The Gospel of God isn’t a book. The Gospel of God isn’t a religion. The Gospel of God isn’t a set of laws. The Gospel of God isn’t a philosophy.
What is the Gospel of God?
The Gospel of God is a person. The good news of God is Jesus Christ.
As Advent draws to a close and we move toward Christmas, it’s a good time to remind ourselves that the Gospel of God is Jesus Christ. This is the good news that we proclaim. The good news of God is Jesus Christ.
In a unique way, God reveals God’s self in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In Jesus Christ, God says here I am, this is what I am really like. In Jesus Christ, God shows special love for the poor, the outcast and the suffering. In Jesus Christ, God shows no limit to forgiveness. In Jesus Christ, God proves that even death itself cannot destroy love.
The Gospel of God is Jesus Christ.
And during Advent we’re reminded that from the start, God has called people – in a sense, God has needed people - to nurture this Gospel.
And one of the great nurturers of the Gospel of God was Joseph.
In today’s gospel lesson, Matthew tells us about the events leading up to Jesus’ birth, and introduces us to Joseph, a descendant of King David living in modest circumstances. We don’t get many details about him, but maybe we’re told everything we need to know.
At this crucial moment, Joseph briefly takes center stage.
Try to imagine Joseph’s situation. In First Century Judaism, marriage had little or nothing to do with romantic love. In that time and place marriage was a contract negotiated by two families aiming to gain as much advantage for themselves as possible.
The first part of the marriage process was betrothal. Betrothal was a much greater commitment than our engagement. Under Jewish law, divorce was required to break a betrothal.
In the midst of all of this, Joseph learns that his betrothed, Mary, is pregnant. Imagine Joseph’s shock, confusion, anger, disappointment and shame. According to the law, Joseph could return Mary to her father and she could be killed.
Yet, Joseph the righteous man doesn’t act on his legal rights. Instead, from the start, he shows mercy toward Mary, planning on a quiet divorce. Maybe he hoped that the man who had impregnated Mary would do the honorable thing by stepping up and taking care of her and their child.
But, then God calls on Joseph to be more righteous than he probably he ever thought possible. God calls on Joseph to be more merciful than he probably ever thought possible.
God called on Joseph to nurture the Gospel of God.
Joseph nurtured the Gospel of God by being open to the unexpected and difficult responsibility that God had given him. Joseph nurtured the Gospel of God by choosing love and mercy over the letter of religious law.
And thanks to Joseph’s courage and faith the Gospel of God was nurtured and grew stronger.
God called Joseph. And God is still calling. God is calling us here today, right here in Gainesville, to nurture the Gospel of God.
What would that look like for us?
For starters, nurturing the Gospel of God would mean not giving in to fear. There’s certainly plenty to fear in our world. The world seems to grow more bleak and dangerous with each passing day: threats of economic collapse in Europe, riots in Haiti, a broken political system and economy here in the United States. Each morning I cringe a little when I open the newspaper. On Thursday morning I opened the New York Times and was chilled by this headline: “New Advice on the Unthinkable: How to Survive a Nuclear Bomb.” Great. Plus, there’s all the routine, everyday suffering around the world that never makes it into the newspapers.
And there’s plenty to fear in our own lives. Some of us are fearful about our health or the health of one we love. Some of us are desperately looking for work or fearful that our job may be on the line. Some of us are fearful of being alone. Some of us are fearful of how people would judge us if they knew our most shameful secrets. Some of us fear God’s judgment. (And some of us fear that the end of this building would mean the end of St. Michael’s – the community that is a lifeline for us.)
In his dream the angel says to Joseph, “do not be afraid.” Joseph had to overcome his fears because a fearful Joseph could not have nurtured the Gospel of God. And what was true for Joseph is certainly true for us. If we give in to fear, we cannot nurture the Gospel of God.
Joseph isn’t only courageous. Joseph is also described as righteous, as someone who took the expectations of his religion and his culture very seriously. But, for Joseph, mercy overrode the rules and regulations of his religion and culture. Even before his dream, Joseph wasn’t publicly judging Mary or condemning Mary. Instead, even before his dream, Joseph was planning to show mercy to Mary.
Nurturing the Gospel of God would mean being righteous like Joseph and more importantly it would mean being merciful like Joseph. Nurturing the Gospel of God would mean resisting the temptation to judge others, resisting the temptation to assume the worst of others, resisting the temptation to hold a grudge against those who disappoint us or hurt us.
Finally, nurturing the Gospel of God would mean giving away our lives in service to the good news that is Jesus Christ.
In a very real and concrete way, Joseph risked it all to nurture the Gospel of God.
And Joseph’s not the only one who risked it all to nurture the Gospel of God. There’s Mary, of course. And there’s also Paul, who gave away his life traveling around the Mediterranean telling people the good news of Jesus.
Finally, by the time of the mid to late 50s of the First Century, as he was about to undertake his journey to the heart of the Roman Empire, Paul wrote to the Christians in Rome. He boldly introduced himself as “a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the Gospel of God.”
The Gospel of God isn’t a book. The Gospel of God isn’t a religion. The Gospel of God isn’t a set of laws. The Gospel of God isn’t a philosophy.
The Gospel of God is a person. The good news of God is Jesus Christ.
And God is calling us today just as God called Joseph, and Mary and Paul. God is calling us to nurture the Gospel of God. God is calling us to nurture the good news of God, right here and now.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
December 19, 2010
Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 7:10-16
Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25
The Gospel of God
Today’s second lesson was the opening of Paul’s letter to the Christians in Rome. This is the only existing letter of Paul that was written to a congregation that he hadn’t started or hadn’t already visited. Paul knows some of the people in the early Christian community of Rome, but he hasn’t yet been in the empire’s capital city.
Paul begins his letter by boldly introducing himself as “a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the Gospel of God.”
The Gospel of God. It’s an unusual expression, isn’t it?
You may know the word “Gospel” means “good news.” Of course, we talk about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and we talk about the four individual gospels, Matthew, Mark , Luke and John.
But, we don’t usually use the expression the “Gospel of God.”
And just what is the Gospel of God? What is the “good news” of God?
The Gospel of God isn’t a book. The Gospel of God isn’t a religion. The Gospel of God isn’t a set of laws. The Gospel of God isn’t a philosophy.
What is the Gospel of God?
The Gospel of God is a person. The good news of God is Jesus Christ.
As Advent draws to a close and we move toward Christmas, it’s a good time to remind ourselves that the Gospel of God is Jesus Christ. This is the good news that we proclaim. The good news of God is Jesus Christ.
In a unique way, God reveals God’s self in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In Jesus Christ, God says here I am, this is what I am really like. In Jesus Christ, God shows special love for the poor, the outcast and the suffering. In Jesus Christ, God shows no limit to forgiveness. In Jesus Christ, God proves that even death itself cannot destroy love.
The Gospel of God is Jesus Christ.
And during Advent we’re reminded that from the start, God has called people – in a sense, God has needed people - to nurture this Gospel.
And one of the great nurturers of the Gospel of God was Joseph.
In today’s gospel lesson, Matthew tells us about the events leading up to Jesus’ birth, and introduces us to Joseph, a descendant of King David living in modest circumstances. We don’t get many details about him, but maybe we’re told everything we need to know.
At this crucial moment, Joseph briefly takes center stage.
Try to imagine Joseph’s situation. In First Century Judaism, marriage had little or nothing to do with romantic love. In that time and place marriage was a contract negotiated by two families aiming to gain as much advantage for themselves as possible.
The first part of the marriage process was betrothal. Betrothal was a much greater commitment than our engagement. Under Jewish law, divorce was required to break a betrothal.
In the midst of all of this, Joseph learns that his betrothed, Mary, is pregnant. Imagine Joseph’s shock, confusion, anger, disappointment and shame. According to the law, Joseph could return Mary to her father and she could be killed.
Yet, Joseph the righteous man doesn’t act on his legal rights. Instead, from the start, he shows mercy toward Mary, planning on a quiet divorce. Maybe he hoped that the man who had impregnated Mary would do the honorable thing by stepping up and taking care of her and their child.
But, then God calls on Joseph to be more righteous than he probably he ever thought possible. God calls on Joseph to be more merciful than he probably ever thought possible.
God called on Joseph to nurture the Gospel of God.
Joseph nurtured the Gospel of God by being open to the unexpected and difficult responsibility that God had given him. Joseph nurtured the Gospel of God by choosing love and mercy over the letter of religious law.
And thanks to Joseph’s courage and faith the Gospel of God was nurtured and grew stronger.
God called Joseph. And God is still calling. God is calling us here today, right here in Gainesville, to nurture the Gospel of God.
What would that look like for us?
For starters, nurturing the Gospel of God would mean not giving in to fear. There’s certainly plenty to fear in our world. The world seems to grow more bleak and dangerous with each passing day: threats of economic collapse in Europe, riots in Haiti, a broken political system and economy here in the United States. Each morning I cringe a little when I open the newspaper. On Thursday morning I opened the New York Times and was chilled by this headline: “New Advice on the Unthinkable: How to Survive a Nuclear Bomb.” Great. Plus, there’s all the routine, everyday suffering around the world that never makes it into the newspapers.
And there’s plenty to fear in our own lives. Some of us are fearful about our health or the health of one we love. Some of us are desperately looking for work or fearful that our job may be on the line. Some of us are fearful of being alone. Some of us are fearful of how people would judge us if they knew our most shameful secrets. Some of us fear God’s judgment. (And some of us fear that the end of this building would mean the end of St. Michael’s – the community that is a lifeline for us.)
In his dream the angel says to Joseph, “do not be afraid.” Joseph had to overcome his fears because a fearful Joseph could not have nurtured the Gospel of God. And what was true for Joseph is certainly true for us. If we give in to fear, we cannot nurture the Gospel of God.
Joseph isn’t only courageous. Joseph is also described as righteous, as someone who took the expectations of his religion and his culture very seriously. But, for Joseph, mercy overrode the rules and regulations of his religion and culture. Even before his dream, Joseph wasn’t publicly judging Mary or condemning Mary. Instead, even before his dream, Joseph was planning to show mercy to Mary.
Nurturing the Gospel of God would mean being righteous like Joseph and more importantly it would mean being merciful like Joseph. Nurturing the Gospel of God would mean resisting the temptation to judge others, resisting the temptation to assume the worst of others, resisting the temptation to hold a grudge against those who disappoint us or hurt us.
Finally, nurturing the Gospel of God would mean giving away our lives in service to the good news that is Jesus Christ.
In a very real and concrete way, Joseph risked it all to nurture the Gospel of God.
And Joseph’s not the only one who risked it all to nurture the Gospel of God. There’s Mary, of course. And there’s also Paul, who gave away his life traveling around the Mediterranean telling people the good news of Jesus.
Finally, by the time of the mid to late 50s of the First Century, as he was about to undertake his journey to the heart of the Roman Empire, Paul wrote to the Christians in Rome. He boldly introduced himself as “a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the Gospel of God.”
The Gospel of God isn’t a book. The Gospel of God isn’t a religion. The Gospel of God isn’t a set of laws. The Gospel of God isn’t a philosophy.
The Gospel of God is a person. The good news of God is Jesus Christ.
And God is calling us today just as God called Joseph, and Mary and Paul. God is calling us to nurture the Gospel of God. God is calling us to nurture the good news of God, right here and now.
Amen.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Signs of the Messianic Age
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
December 12, 2010
Year A: The Third Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 35:1-10
Canticle 15
James 5:7-10
Matthew 11:2-11
Signs of the Messianic Age
You may remember that last week we heard about John the Baptist preaching his powerful message of repentance as he baptized people in the River Jordan.
Not only did John offer his own message, he also made some bold and downright scary predictions about the messiah who was coming.
John said of this messiah, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
It seems that John the Baptist expected a messiah who was going to be judge of all – welcoming the righteous and sending the sinful into eternal punishment.
Well, people in authority always feel threatened by people like John. The religious establishment feared him because John was the real deal. He didn’t need to hide behind fancy robes and grandiose titles. The political establishment feared John because he spoke the truth to power. They feared him because who knows what he could get people to do if he put his mind to it?
So, of course, John the Baptist was arrested and his fate was sealed.
And, apparently while he was sitting in prison, he heard about what Jesus of Nazareth was up to. He heard that others were recognizing that Jesus was the messiah – the savior they had been awaiting. John heard that with Jesus the messianic age had begun.
There was just one problem. Jesus’ ministry and teaching didn’t look or sound very much like what John had predicted and expected.
There was no winnowing fork in Jesus’ hand. It didn’t seem like Jesus was clearing the threshing floor, gathering the wheat and burning the chaff.
So, John the Baptist sends his disciples to ask Jesus. “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to await for another?”
John’s asking Jesus, are you the messiah? Are we really living in the time of the messiah – the messianic age?
In reply, Jesus sums up what he’s been doing by alluding to the messianic signs predicted by the Prophet Isaiah: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news brought to them.”
Jesus doesn’t say that John’s expectations were wrong. In fact, John was describing the end of time, the final judgment that we especially anticipate during Advent. Maybe, though, John the Baptist was having trouble recognizing that he was already living in the messianic age. The messiah, Mary’s son, has already arrived and has begun to change everything.
And, maybe, we have the same problem. Maybe we have the same trouble recognizing that we are living in the time of the messiah – the messianic age.
After all, the world seems to groan on with at least as much suffering and loss as ever. So, where is this messianic age that Mary proclaims so boldly in the Magnificat? In her great song, Mary declares that in this new messianic age, God “has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.”
Just where are the signs that we are living in the messianic age that began with the birth of Mary’s son?
This past week marked the thirtieth anniversary of John Lennon’s murder in New York City. For many it’s hard to believe that three decades have passed since that senseless act – and it’s hard to believe that Lennon would be 70 years old this year.
A few weeks ago another thirtieth anniversary of a horrific and brutal act passed – but this anniversary received much less media attention.
Thirty years ago the Central American country of El Salvador was one of the hot spots of the Cold War. It was ruled by a right-wing military regime that had a close alliance with the United States government. Nearly everyone in El Salvador was desperately poor. Just about all the country’s wealth was in the hands of a few.
Back then some brave and faithful American Christians were living in El Salvador working among the poor and calling for social justice in that harsh country. Since the Roman Catholic archbishop of El Salvador had been assassinated while celebrating mass, all the missionaries knew that their lives were at risk.
On December 2, 1980 members of the El Salvadoran national guard pulled over a car containing three American nuns and one laywoman who had been working with the poor of El Salvador. The women were brought to a secluded area where they were tortured, raped and murdered.
The nuns were Ita Ford, Maura Clark and Dorothy Kazel and the laywoman was Jean Donovan.
Their murder was a horrible and vicious act in a world filled with horrible and vicious acts. When terrible things like this happen, like John the Baptist, we might well have trouble seeing the signs that we are living in the messianic age begun by Mary’s son.
There was outrage around the world and especially in the United States when the news broke of the murders. The outrage was particularly great in the United States in part because these were American women but also because the repressive El Salvadoran government was receiving so much support from the American government – and, in reality, from the American taxpayer.
The murder of these four faithful Christian women also shined an unforgiving light on the School of the Americas at Ft. Benning in Georgia. This school had been set up during the cold war to train military and police from Latin America in various tactics, ranging from traditional military strategy to techniques against rebel groups and government opponents.
A large number of the alumni of the School of the Americas went on to infamous careers as leaders of some of the most oppressive regimes in the Western Hemisphere, including El Salvador. The US government and the leaders of the school always denied that they taught or condoned torture, but training manuals used at the time tell a different story.
After the murders of the four women in El Salvador, word got out about the School of the Americas. Huge protests have been held annually at Ft. Benning by people demanding that the school be closed.
As a result of this highly publicized pressure, in 2001 the school’s name was changed to the “Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation.” More importantly, the U.S. military admitted to some past mistakes and pledged that current students at the WHISC receive extensive training in human rights. Some people are convinced that real change has occurred – others not so much. This year the annual protest was much smaller than in the past.
A couple of weeks ago on the anniversary of the murders, the New York Times published an article with the headline, “After 30 Years, Preserving Nuns’ Legacy”.
The article mentioned a woman named Flor Lazo, who was born in El Salvador five years after the murder of the churchwomen. Ms. Lazo is now living in Brooklyn, where she is learning English at the Maura Clarke – Ita Ford Center, a social services center named for two of the nuns so brutally tortured and killed thirty years earlier.
When Ms. Lazo told her mother back in El Salvador the name of the place where she was building a new and better life for herself, her mother said, “Yes, I remember that day when they were murdered.”
Those four murdered women who gave their lives to Jesus and the poor were powerful signs that we live in the time of the messiah. And the grace that has flowed from their sacrifice is also a sign that we live in the messianic age that began two thousand years ago when Mary gave birth to her son in the humblest of circumstances.
In her great song, Mary expresses what God is doing in this messianic age: “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.”
And Jesus himself expressed what God is doing in this messianic age in his message to John the Baptist: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”
Yes, the world groans on in suffering and loss, yet, if we look, we see there are signs of the messianic age all around us.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
December 12, 2010
Year A: The Third Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 35:1-10
Canticle 15
James 5:7-10
Matthew 11:2-11
Signs of the Messianic Age
You may remember that last week we heard about John the Baptist preaching his powerful message of repentance as he baptized people in the River Jordan.
Not only did John offer his own message, he also made some bold and downright scary predictions about the messiah who was coming.
John said of this messiah, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
It seems that John the Baptist expected a messiah who was going to be judge of all – welcoming the righteous and sending the sinful into eternal punishment.
Well, people in authority always feel threatened by people like John. The religious establishment feared him because John was the real deal. He didn’t need to hide behind fancy robes and grandiose titles. The political establishment feared John because he spoke the truth to power. They feared him because who knows what he could get people to do if he put his mind to it?
So, of course, John the Baptist was arrested and his fate was sealed.
And, apparently while he was sitting in prison, he heard about what Jesus of Nazareth was up to. He heard that others were recognizing that Jesus was the messiah – the savior they had been awaiting. John heard that with Jesus the messianic age had begun.
There was just one problem. Jesus’ ministry and teaching didn’t look or sound very much like what John had predicted and expected.
There was no winnowing fork in Jesus’ hand. It didn’t seem like Jesus was clearing the threshing floor, gathering the wheat and burning the chaff.
So, John the Baptist sends his disciples to ask Jesus. “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to await for another?”
John’s asking Jesus, are you the messiah? Are we really living in the time of the messiah – the messianic age?
In reply, Jesus sums up what he’s been doing by alluding to the messianic signs predicted by the Prophet Isaiah: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news brought to them.”
Jesus doesn’t say that John’s expectations were wrong. In fact, John was describing the end of time, the final judgment that we especially anticipate during Advent. Maybe, though, John the Baptist was having trouble recognizing that he was already living in the messianic age. The messiah, Mary’s son, has already arrived and has begun to change everything.
And, maybe, we have the same problem. Maybe we have the same trouble recognizing that we are living in the time of the messiah – the messianic age.
After all, the world seems to groan on with at least as much suffering and loss as ever. So, where is this messianic age that Mary proclaims so boldly in the Magnificat? In her great song, Mary declares that in this new messianic age, God “has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.”
Just where are the signs that we are living in the messianic age that began with the birth of Mary’s son?
This past week marked the thirtieth anniversary of John Lennon’s murder in New York City. For many it’s hard to believe that three decades have passed since that senseless act – and it’s hard to believe that Lennon would be 70 years old this year.
A few weeks ago another thirtieth anniversary of a horrific and brutal act passed – but this anniversary received much less media attention.
Thirty years ago the Central American country of El Salvador was one of the hot spots of the Cold War. It was ruled by a right-wing military regime that had a close alliance with the United States government. Nearly everyone in El Salvador was desperately poor. Just about all the country’s wealth was in the hands of a few.
Back then some brave and faithful American Christians were living in El Salvador working among the poor and calling for social justice in that harsh country. Since the Roman Catholic archbishop of El Salvador had been assassinated while celebrating mass, all the missionaries knew that their lives were at risk.
On December 2, 1980 members of the El Salvadoran national guard pulled over a car containing three American nuns and one laywoman who had been working with the poor of El Salvador. The women were brought to a secluded area where they were tortured, raped and murdered.
The nuns were Ita Ford, Maura Clark and Dorothy Kazel and the laywoman was Jean Donovan.
Their murder was a horrible and vicious act in a world filled with horrible and vicious acts. When terrible things like this happen, like John the Baptist, we might well have trouble seeing the signs that we are living in the messianic age begun by Mary’s son.
There was outrage around the world and especially in the United States when the news broke of the murders. The outrage was particularly great in the United States in part because these were American women but also because the repressive El Salvadoran government was receiving so much support from the American government – and, in reality, from the American taxpayer.
The murder of these four faithful Christian women also shined an unforgiving light on the School of the Americas at Ft. Benning in Georgia. This school had been set up during the cold war to train military and police from Latin America in various tactics, ranging from traditional military strategy to techniques against rebel groups and government opponents.
A large number of the alumni of the School of the Americas went on to infamous careers as leaders of some of the most oppressive regimes in the Western Hemisphere, including El Salvador. The US government and the leaders of the school always denied that they taught or condoned torture, but training manuals used at the time tell a different story.
After the murders of the four women in El Salvador, word got out about the School of the Americas. Huge protests have been held annually at Ft. Benning by people demanding that the school be closed.
As a result of this highly publicized pressure, in 2001 the school’s name was changed to the “Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation.” More importantly, the U.S. military admitted to some past mistakes and pledged that current students at the WHISC receive extensive training in human rights. Some people are convinced that real change has occurred – others not so much. This year the annual protest was much smaller than in the past.
A couple of weeks ago on the anniversary of the murders, the New York Times published an article with the headline, “After 30 Years, Preserving Nuns’ Legacy”.
The article mentioned a woman named Flor Lazo, who was born in El Salvador five years after the murder of the churchwomen. Ms. Lazo is now living in Brooklyn, where she is learning English at the Maura Clarke – Ita Ford Center, a social services center named for two of the nuns so brutally tortured and killed thirty years earlier.
When Ms. Lazo told her mother back in El Salvador the name of the place where she was building a new and better life for herself, her mother said, “Yes, I remember that day when they were murdered.”
Those four murdered women who gave their lives to Jesus and the poor were powerful signs that we live in the time of the messiah. And the grace that has flowed from their sacrifice is also a sign that we live in the messianic age that began two thousand years ago when Mary gave birth to her son in the humblest of circumstances.
In her great song, Mary expresses what God is doing in this messianic age: “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.”
And Jesus himself expressed what God is doing in this messianic age in his message to John the Baptist: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”
Yes, the world groans on in suffering and loss, yet, if we look, we see there are signs of the messianic age all around us.
Amen.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Repentance is Transformation
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
December 5, 2010
Year A: The Second Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 11:1-10
Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19
Romans 15:4-13
Matthew 3:1-12
Repentance is Transformation
Obviously, something has gone very wrong.
Obviously, something has gone very wrong with our economy. I’m sure we were all disappointed – but not surprised – to learn that the unemployment rate inched up last month.
Obviously, something has gone very wrong with our political system. It’s become a cliché to describe our country as “polarized.” Two years ago a wave of Democrats were elected to Congress when President Obama was elected. And, sure enough, a month ago the Democratic tide went back out and a Republican wave poured into the House and Senate.
Obviously, something has gone very wrong among the American people. There’s profound and often bitter disagreement on a whole bunch of hot-button issues, ranging from heath care reform to tax cuts to global warming to gays serving openly in the military. Maybe worst of all, we seem to be unable - or unwilling - to listen to people with whom we disagree.
Actually, the only thing that most Americans seem to agree on is the fact that something has gone very wrong. I looked at some recent national public opinion polls and – no surprise - in all of them the vast, vast majority agreed that the country is on the wrong track.
We may disagree on the causes and the details and the solutions, but we all sense that something has gone very wrong.
So, maybe during this difficult time in our country and world we can especially appreciate an insight that lies very close to the heart of Judaism and Christianity. From the start, people of both faiths have recognized that, for us humans, something has gone very wrong.
Jews and Christians have understood that we were not meant to live in a world with so much pain and suffering and loss.
The story of Adam and Eve (which we will hear later on during our Lessons and Carols service) best captures this recognition - this deep understanding – that for us humans something has gone very wrong.
The story of Adam and Eve tells us what we already know in our hearts. We know that God made a good creation. We know that human disobedience messed it up and continues to mess it up. We know that we used to feel very close to God and God felt very close to us. But then we turned away from God and even tried to hide from God.
And over and over God tried to seek us out, tried to find us, tried to rebuild the relationship that had been broken so painfully.
One way God tried to seek us out was through the prophets. Over and over, the prophets called the people back to faithfulness – with decidedly mixed results.
Which brings us to today’s gospel lesson and the last in this long line of prophets, John the Baptist.
The four gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – all give a good bit of attention to John the Baptist. Some of the details vary, but all four agree on John’s basic character and the content of his message.
John, probably very consciously, modeled himself on prophets of the Jewish past. His outfit of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist echoed the Prophet Elijah.
His food of locusts and wild honey would have been a sign of his total dependence on God. No hunting or farming for John – just faith in God.
Like many of the earlier prophets, John was very critical of the religious establishment. In today’s lesson we heard John greet the Sadducees and the Pharisees as a “brood of vipers.” John calls them children of snakes – definitely not a compliment!
John’s no fan of the religious establishment. John warns the religious establishment that their heritage and positions of prestige would be no protection from God’s wrath.
During that very tense time in Jewish history, John’s fiery message would have threatened both religious and political leaders.
Living under Roman rule was not easy. The Jewish religious establishment had to be careful not to anger the Romans and at the same time maintain authority among the people.
The people were waiting for someone to break things open. Some were waiting for a prophet. And many were waiting for more than a prophet. They were waiting for a messiah, God’s anointed one, to restore the greatness the people of Israel had known a thousand years earlier under King David.
Living and preaching out in the wilderness, John the Baptist must have seemed like the real deal. So, no surprise, many went out to hear his message. They came from all walks of life to be baptized by him in the Jordan. Some were so taken by John’s life and words that they became his disciples. Many scholars think that a young Jesus of Nazareth himself was one of John’s disciples.
So, John would have been recognized as a prophet. And some would have thought – would have hoped – that John was the messiah.
Of course, the authors of the gospels make it very clear that John is not the messiah. The gospels insist that John’s the one who was to prepare the way for Jesus the messiah. In today’s gospel lesson, Matthew describes John’s secondary role by quoting from the Prophet Isaiah:
“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’”
John’s job is to prepare the way of the Lord. And just how are we to prepare the way of the Lord? John’s message is very much like Jesus’ own message: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
But, what does that mean? What does it mean to repent?
When most of us hear the word repent we think of saying we’re sorry for some wrong we’ve done and pledging to change our ways. And that’s true enough, as far as it goes.
But for both John and Jesus, repentance means much more than just saying we’re sorry and trying to do better next time.
Repentance means total transformation. For John, and for us, this total transformation is acted out in our baptism. Because of how and to whom most baptisms happen in church, we may forget that baptism is about total transformation. John’s baptism wasn’t a little water poured out delicately onto the head of an adorable baby dressed in white frilly clothes.
No, John’s baptism was a dunking – it was a near drowning – so the old self would die underwater and the new transformed person would rise up, gasping, breathing in the air of new life.
Repentance is transformation. In baptism our transformation has begun.
Something has gone very wrong in our world, in our country and in our lives. Advent may be a season of waiting, but the good news is that in baptism our repentance – our transformation – has begun.
We can see the shape of our transformation in the words of the Baptismal Covenant – the part of the Baptism service when, with God’s help, we promise to continue our transformation that begins in the water of baptism.
Repentance is transformation. In baptism our transformation has begun.
In the Baptismal Covenant, we promise, with God’s help, to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.
We promise, with God’s help, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self.
We promise, with God’s help, to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.
In baptism our repentance – our transformation – has begun.
And the more we allow God to transform us the more the world will be transformed. The more the world will look like the world that God always intended. The more we allow God to transform us, the more what has gone wrong will be made right.
The more we allow God to transform us the more that Isaiah’s dream of the transformed world will become reality:
“They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”
So, on this Second Sunday of Advent as we look back at Christ’s birth and look ahead to Christ’s return, let’s give thanks for John the Baptist’s call to repentance and especially let’s give thanks for the gift of baptism.
And, most of all, let’s remember that in baptism our transformation – and the transformation of the whole world – has begun.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
December 5, 2010
Year A: The Second Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 11:1-10
Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19
Romans 15:4-13
Matthew 3:1-12
Repentance is Transformation
Obviously, something has gone very wrong.
Obviously, something has gone very wrong with our economy. I’m sure we were all disappointed – but not surprised – to learn that the unemployment rate inched up last month.
Obviously, something has gone very wrong with our political system. It’s become a cliché to describe our country as “polarized.” Two years ago a wave of Democrats were elected to Congress when President Obama was elected. And, sure enough, a month ago the Democratic tide went back out and a Republican wave poured into the House and Senate.
Obviously, something has gone very wrong among the American people. There’s profound and often bitter disagreement on a whole bunch of hot-button issues, ranging from heath care reform to tax cuts to global warming to gays serving openly in the military. Maybe worst of all, we seem to be unable - or unwilling - to listen to people with whom we disagree.
Actually, the only thing that most Americans seem to agree on is the fact that something has gone very wrong. I looked at some recent national public opinion polls and – no surprise - in all of them the vast, vast majority agreed that the country is on the wrong track.
We may disagree on the causes and the details and the solutions, but we all sense that something has gone very wrong.
So, maybe during this difficult time in our country and world we can especially appreciate an insight that lies very close to the heart of Judaism and Christianity. From the start, people of both faiths have recognized that, for us humans, something has gone very wrong.
Jews and Christians have understood that we were not meant to live in a world with so much pain and suffering and loss.
The story of Adam and Eve (which we will hear later on during our Lessons and Carols service) best captures this recognition - this deep understanding – that for us humans something has gone very wrong.
The story of Adam and Eve tells us what we already know in our hearts. We know that God made a good creation. We know that human disobedience messed it up and continues to mess it up. We know that we used to feel very close to God and God felt very close to us. But then we turned away from God and even tried to hide from God.
And over and over God tried to seek us out, tried to find us, tried to rebuild the relationship that had been broken so painfully.
One way God tried to seek us out was through the prophets. Over and over, the prophets called the people back to faithfulness – with decidedly mixed results.
Which brings us to today’s gospel lesson and the last in this long line of prophets, John the Baptist.
The four gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – all give a good bit of attention to John the Baptist. Some of the details vary, but all four agree on John’s basic character and the content of his message.
John, probably very consciously, modeled himself on prophets of the Jewish past. His outfit of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist echoed the Prophet Elijah.
His food of locusts and wild honey would have been a sign of his total dependence on God. No hunting or farming for John – just faith in God.
Like many of the earlier prophets, John was very critical of the religious establishment. In today’s lesson we heard John greet the Sadducees and the Pharisees as a “brood of vipers.” John calls them children of snakes – definitely not a compliment!
John’s no fan of the religious establishment. John warns the religious establishment that their heritage and positions of prestige would be no protection from God’s wrath.
During that very tense time in Jewish history, John’s fiery message would have threatened both religious and political leaders.
Living under Roman rule was not easy. The Jewish religious establishment had to be careful not to anger the Romans and at the same time maintain authority among the people.
The people were waiting for someone to break things open. Some were waiting for a prophet. And many were waiting for more than a prophet. They were waiting for a messiah, God’s anointed one, to restore the greatness the people of Israel had known a thousand years earlier under King David.
Living and preaching out in the wilderness, John the Baptist must have seemed like the real deal. So, no surprise, many went out to hear his message. They came from all walks of life to be baptized by him in the Jordan. Some were so taken by John’s life and words that they became his disciples. Many scholars think that a young Jesus of Nazareth himself was one of John’s disciples.
So, John would have been recognized as a prophet. And some would have thought – would have hoped – that John was the messiah.
Of course, the authors of the gospels make it very clear that John is not the messiah. The gospels insist that John’s the one who was to prepare the way for Jesus the messiah. In today’s gospel lesson, Matthew describes John’s secondary role by quoting from the Prophet Isaiah:
“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’”
John’s job is to prepare the way of the Lord. And just how are we to prepare the way of the Lord? John’s message is very much like Jesus’ own message: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
But, what does that mean? What does it mean to repent?
When most of us hear the word repent we think of saying we’re sorry for some wrong we’ve done and pledging to change our ways. And that’s true enough, as far as it goes.
But for both John and Jesus, repentance means much more than just saying we’re sorry and trying to do better next time.
Repentance means total transformation. For John, and for us, this total transformation is acted out in our baptism. Because of how and to whom most baptisms happen in church, we may forget that baptism is about total transformation. John’s baptism wasn’t a little water poured out delicately onto the head of an adorable baby dressed in white frilly clothes.
No, John’s baptism was a dunking – it was a near drowning – so the old self would die underwater and the new transformed person would rise up, gasping, breathing in the air of new life.
Repentance is transformation. In baptism our transformation has begun.
Something has gone very wrong in our world, in our country and in our lives. Advent may be a season of waiting, but the good news is that in baptism our repentance – our transformation – has begun.
We can see the shape of our transformation in the words of the Baptismal Covenant – the part of the Baptism service when, with God’s help, we promise to continue our transformation that begins in the water of baptism.
Repentance is transformation. In baptism our transformation has begun.
In the Baptismal Covenant, we promise, with God’s help, to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.
We promise, with God’s help, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self.
We promise, with God’s help, to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.
In baptism our repentance – our transformation – has begun.
And the more we allow God to transform us the more the world will be transformed. The more the world will look like the world that God always intended. The more we allow God to transform us, the more what has gone wrong will be made right.
The more we allow God to transform us the more that Isaiah’s dream of the transformed world will become reality:
“They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”
So, on this Second Sunday of Advent as we look back at Christ’s birth and look ahead to Christ’s return, let’s give thanks for John the Baptist’s call to repentance and especially let’s give thanks for the gift of baptism.
And, most of all, let’s remember that in baptism our transformation – and the transformation of the whole world – has begun.
Amen.
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