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Showing posts with label Bethlehem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bethlehem. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Christmas Day Sermon, Dec 25, 2016

Welcome to our Home (Luke 2:4-7)


            I hope your Christmas morning is full of joy and smiles and warmth.  I am grateful to God for each of you and that you chose to be with us in worship on Christmas morning. 
It is a beautiful, special time, and a happy time, I hope.  With that said, I do hope that my discovery that for centuries we in the church have been reading the Bible incorrectly won’t diminish the holiday glow.  We know the story.  Joseph and Mary just barely make it into Bethlehem, discover their best shelter will be in a barn, and then baby Jesus comes, welcomed into the world by goats, chickens, and cows.  Our nativity scenes depict this narrative, one the church has rehearsed for centuries.
            However, we haven’t read Luke 2 very carefully and thus history has besmirched the reputation of innkeepers and homeowners in Bethlehem for 2 millennia.  Hospitality is a cherished value in the Middle East now and it was when Jesus was born.  Any self-respecting Bethlehem family would have gone out of its way to welcome Joseph and pregnant Mary.  And that is probably what actually happened. 
            The importance of hospitality in that part of the world is startling sometimes even to people from there. 
            Consider the Orthodox Initiative, a ministry of the Greek Orthodox Church in the Mediterranean region.  It is a ministry meant to serve Christians in the Middle East.  The Orthodox Initiative, which began in 2011, was established to encourage unity and to support Christians who are a persecuted minority in Jordan, Syria, Iraq, and the rest of the region.   The history of conflict in the past half-decade, especially in Iraq and Syria has been tragic.  Entire communities have been displaced. 
Iraqi and Syrian Christians have been especially hard hit.  Prior to the civil war in Syria, that country had one of the largest Christian populations in the Middle East.  Perhaps when you think of the Middle East, dangerous Islamic extremism comes to mind.  But, there are in fact millions of peaceful Muslims who are as much victims of terrorism as anyone else.  There, of course, millions of Jews.  And of course there are millions of Christians. 
Many have had to flee for their lives, leaving home behind.  Listen to what happened among a group of Syrian Christian refugees who had to spend Christmas in a refugee situation in Amman, Jordan.  This account comes one of the team members of the Orthodox Initiative who had traveled to the St. Ephraim’s Syrian Orthodox Church in Jordan.  She was there to serve the poor, displaced refugees.  She couldn’t believe what happened.
She writes,
When we arrived at the church families milled about the premises. Some were gathered in the narthex of the church, others were sitting on chairs nearby. It wasn’t until later that we realized that almost all of these families were living at the church. The coffee we were served, again and again, was an expression of hospitality. These refugee families, many of whom have one or two sets of clothes, were serving us their own coffee.

There in the church facilities were approximately 50 Syrian families sharing communal eating, sleeping, and bathing quarters. The Pastor and the congregation have converted the Church facilities into a complete hostel for the Syrian refugees. What was once a fellowship hall now sleeps 20. The meeting room houses 10 more. There is a shared kitchen, where church ladies once arranged coffee & sweets for fellowship hour following services.

Next we went upstairs, around the side of the church, and into a building that sits on top of the sanctuary & fellowship hall.. Mattresses covered the floors and old classrooms have been converted into shared bedrooms. The hallways serve as kitchens, laundry rooms, and storage spaces.

The Feeding of the 5000, a miracle that illustrates the abundance found in community, is a beloved story that the Orthodox Initiative director thought of when she reflected on Christmas dinner at St Ephraim’s Syriac Orthodox Church. What began as a humble desire to get to know the Syrian refugee families became a joyful Christmas dinner.

True to Middle Eastern hospitality standards, the Syrian families welcomed their guests, the staff and volunteers of the Orthodox Initiative, into their temporary living space inside the Orthodox Church. Preparation did not merely include getting out a table cloth and sweeping the floor. The Syrian families, who have fled from their homes and resettled in the St Ephraim’s Church’s Fellowship Hall, accommodated their guests by clearing out their living spaces and setting up tables and chairs to seat 100 people.

The atmosphere of the dinner was full of joy and peace, affording a welcome respite to the families from the trauma of fleeing violence in their home country only to arrive in Jordan with few possessions and resources. Relaxation permeated the hall with families sharing stories and memories. Upon arriving at the dinner, the Orthodox Initiative director felt a sense of nostalgia while she, “watched as families switched off lights in their homes and rooms and walked to the church to join the gathering. It was as if watching a classic Christmas movie.”[i]

            That spirit of hospitality that transformed a refugee ministry in Jordan in 2013 into a Christmas day filled with grace, joy, laughter, and love – that same hospitality was in Bethlehem when Joseph and Mary arrived and Jesus, God the Son, entered human flesh through birth, the same way we all come into life on this planet.  Luke hints at this in verse 6. 
            In the previous verse, Luke writes that Joseph and Mary were in Bethlehem, registering because of the Roman tax.  Then in verse 6, “while they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.”  Jesus birth was but one of a series of events in Bethlehem at that time.
            I read a research paper[ii] that describes the typical home in first century Bethlehem.  Most people, whatever else they did, also did farming.  The blacksmith, the carpenter, the tanner – whatever the trade, the family also grew crops and had a few farm animals.  Most families were poor, so they only had a few animals. 
            Most families lived in one-rooms and brought their animals into the home at night.  The manger would be a space on the floor where animals ate while inside on cold nights.  The entire family was in very close proximity to the animals.  That they would give this space to Joseph and Mary, and then to Baby Jesus, was an example of giving the very best that they had. 
            Furthermore, the hospitality was a harbinger of the life Jesus would lead and call his followers to lead.  Besides Joseph and Mary and the host family, unknown to history, who were the first people to welcome Jesus into the world? Shepherds!  They fell very low on the social ladder.  Their work in keeping the flocks, so essential in society, rendered them “unclean.”  Many homes would not even welcome them in.  However, they would be very comfortable in the presence of animal’s feed trough.  Even as baby, Jesus welcomed the lowest of society and set the standard that all associated with him would gladly welcome all people.  The refugees, centuries later, welcoming the ministry that had come to care for them were simply Jesus followers following the lead of their master – our Lord. 
            A poor peasant family says to Joseph and Mary, welcome to our home.  This clears for the new born Jesus to find himself, not in a castle or palace, but in a stable.  Because he’s in a stable, shepherds, unwelcomed in so-called respectable places are able to come and worship the Son of God the angels told them about.  Thus in the birth of Jesus we a tone of welcome set, a standard he will demonstrate in his ministry and one his church will maintain.  His church continues to live up this standard even up to our day, when Christians who have been robbed of everything by war end up hosting the ministry that thought it was going to serve them. 
            Of course all of this leads to the conclusion I am sure you are suspecting.  We Christians in North America must maintain extravagant generosity in our own lives.  We extend ourselves in hospitality in our homes, in our relationships, and in our church.  This is absolutely so and we are called to this ministry, and I extremely every time I see how well our church does in giving hospitality.  However, that is actually not my conclusion this Christmas morning.
            My conclusion is instead an invitation to you.  The Christ who lay in a manger and welcomed shepherds and whose Holy Spirit inspired Syrian refugees in Jordan to welcome the Orthodox Initiative is the one who went to the cross to die for the sins of the world.  And we all need him.  We are all sinners.  You are a sinner.  I am.  Our sins wreck our lives, hurt us and others, and cut us off from God.  But, Jesus has covered our sins with his blood and forgiven us.  Our sins are no more.  We are made new.
He is the one who rose from the grave to conquer death and invite us to join him in resurrection.  So Jesus has utterly done away with the two things that destroy life – sin and death.  He cleans us, makes us new, and gives us eternal life.
The final word on hospitality is not that we should all practice it.  We should.  But the final word to you this Christmas morning is that Jesus is inviting you to come to Him and be welcomed into his family.  To you, Jesus says, “Welcome to my home.”  His home is the Kingdom of God.  You and I – we can be at home there. 
I began this morning by saying that I hoped your Christmas morning has been full of joy and smiles and warmth.  In reality, I don’t know what your Christmas has been like.  I know when people are in pain or going through a rough time, the holiday might magnify that hurt.  If that is you or if you have never given your life to Jesus, he is here.  His Holy Spirit is here beckoning your heart.  He wants to show divine hospitality to your spirit. 
Come to him.  That’s the final word.  God entered human flesh, died on the cross and rose because God loves you and me.  Today, Christmas Day, come, give your heart to Him and receive the welcome and the salvation He has for you.
AMEN




[i] http://www.orthodoxinitiative.org/st-ephraims-syriac-orthodox-church
[ii] http://www.biblearchaeology.org/post/2008/11/08/The-Manger-and-the-Inn.aspx#Article

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Christmas Eve Sermon (2016)

The Earth Shall See Salvation (Isaiah 52:7-10)

Christmas Eve, December 24, 2016, 5:00PM

            Good news!
            Break forth into singing!
            At the return of the Lord, sing and shout for joy!
            All the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God!  Among the other sentiments we share on this night, a reading from Isaiah sets the spiritual mood.  In celebrating the birth of Jesus, we recite the arrival of God’s salvation plan.  The prophet Isaiah bellows words that echo across history, and we Christians believe there is unique meaning in this Old Testament prophet’s expression, and that meaning is found in Jesus.  “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”  Or as Isaiah says, “All the ends of the earth shall see salvation.” All need it because we are lost in sin, and God loves us and thus sent Jesus for all of us. 
            We sing of our salvation in our Christmas songs.  We also retell the story when we sing these songs. 
When we sing (tune of ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’), for Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above, while mortals sleep the angels keep their watch of wond’ring love, we are singing Luke’s story.  Luke’s telling of Jesus’ birth is the point of view that gives us angels and mangers and shepherds.  In Luke’s Gospel, the Father of John the Baptist, Zechariah, meets an angel.  An angel appears to Mary.  Joseph and Mary make the periled journey from Galilee, headed south but also climbing over mountains, thus headed “up” to Bethlehem.  Upon arrival, they find crowded inns and end up, probably in a family home, which included a feed trough for animals, the manger.  This is in Luke.
            Matthew tells of dreams.  Joseph dreams.  The wise men had dreams.  There is none of this dreaming in Luke.  Matthew tells of the visitors following the star and a flight to Egypt.  Wise men, Joseph, dreams, Herod – that’s all Matthew. 
Mark skips the birth stories altogether.  He begins his gospel with Jesus’ baptism. 
John, on the other hand, goes back, way back before even Genesis.  John says, that “in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.  And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”  However, after John gives that cosmic perspective, he too skips ahead to Jesus and John the Baptist and the recruitment of disciples. 
            Of the four gospels, Luke provides most of the imagery we envision at Christmas and sing in our songs.  Matthew definitely finds his way into our Christmas songbook.  We three kings of orient are.  Bearing gifts we traverse afar.  That’s Matthew and there are others from Matthew.   But most of the Christmas hymns tell Luke’s story.  Including the ones we’ve sung tonight.
            The First Noel, the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay.  That’s Luke.
            Away in a manger, no crib for his bed.  The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head.  Again, Luke.  We sing the second chapter of Luke more than any other passage in scripture, except maybe the Psalms.  I find it beautiful.  To me these are some of the most familiar, comforting, and meaningful worship songs we have.  People will refer them as ‘Christmas carols,’ and that’s not bad thing.  I have no problem with that wording.  But I don’t talk about that way. 
To me, Away in a Manger is a worship song.   Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay.  Close by me forever, and love me I pray.  In difficult times, I pray that prayer.  God, please be with me.  Guide me through this.  Help me with the struggles I face and the obstacles to be overcome.  I love that Luke’s moving storytelling has inspired songs so familiar, we can sing them by heart.  In doing so, we tell the story Isaiah prophesied – the joyous proclamation of salvation in the coming of Jesus.
I have to mention that my wife gave me a Christmas warning.  She said, “Listen.  I’ve had enough of the heavy sermons.  They’re good, but, it is Christmas.  I need baby Jesus.  I need Mary and Joseph.  I need a manger.  I need to hear about peace and joy.”  I have been so instructed, and not just by her.  Years ago, before I even started in ministry, I was exploring the idea of being a pastor.  So, I visited a seminaries across the east, including the Candler School of Theology at Emory University in Atlanta.  There, I sat in on the preaching class.  The professor told her students, would-be pastors, “When you’re preaching at Easter, talk about the resurrection.  Don’t try to get too creative.  At Easter, talk about the empty tomb.  When you’re preaching on Christmas Eve, mention Bethlehem and baby Jesus.”
Tonight, I have tried to abide by that professor’s instruction and more importantly, my wife’s direct admonition.  This is the night we celebrate Jesus’ birth.  This is the night we rejoice and thank God for Jesus’ coming.  On this night, we read Isaiah’s words – “Break forth together into singing you ruins of Jerusalem; for the Lord has comforted His people; he has redeemed Jerusalem” (52:9).  And when we read Isaiah 52, we link his promise with the fulfillment in the coming of Jesus.  It all comes together.
As it does, telling moves into confessing.  “To know the risen Lord is not only to give an account of something that happened in the past.  It is an interior knowing that transforms the knower.”[i] 
Church historian Robert Louis Wilken observed that 2nd century Christians felt that only by believing in God and following Jesus could they understand God.  Their theology proceeded from their belief before it was worked out in their intellect.  When they attempted to explain Christianity, it was never simply an academic exercise in which they developed their theology.  Origin, Tertullian, Augustine – their theology was a product of their personal faith.  In some cases, they died for their confessions of faith in Jesus and were glad to do so. 
The word martyr actually means witness.  Once we decide to follow Jesus, the story becomes our story, and every example of Christian witness comes in the first person.  Beyond sharing information, our telling of the great drama of scripture is our confession what God has done in our lives. 
This night, I have tried to recite the story of Jesus’ birth.  Through our favorite, familiar songs, we have rehearsed the story we know so well.  Even non-church people have some familiarity with it.  We have read the scriptures.  I have spoken of Joseph and Mary and the manger.
Now, in order for this to be true proclamation, more than mere quaint narrating, I have to be a witness.  I have to tell what I have experienced in my own life.  I have to bear my soul because for me Christmas Eve is more than tradition, more than habit, and more than a necessary task of being a church leader.  Christmas Eve worship is a part of my life as a follower of Jesus.  Apart from God, my life makes no sense.
The coming of the Lord in human flesh, Jesus of Nazareth, is the coming of salvation.  And I stand before you as a man who needs, or who needed, to be saved.  I won’t give a line item accounting of my sins.  There are too many – and at the same time, there are none.  I know I have lived of life in which I made mistakes that absolutely cut me off from God.  I know that. 
Yet, I do not dwell on it because this Savior whose birth we rejoice has saved me.  I have confessed those sins and Jesus has nailed my sins to the cross.  That’s where my sins and my death are.  I stand in joy that only grows deeper and richer over time because with each passing year, I grow in my relationship with God in Jesus Christ.  This is not my accomplishment.  I am not bragging.  I am testifying.  I am singing and dancing.  I thrilled.  The life I have in the Lord is a gift God gives and then renews all the time.  The joy that grows is something God is growing in me as a gift to me.  God offers that gift to all.  In addition to testifying, singing, and dancing, I am inviting you.
The birth of Jesus, the birth of my salvation, is the birth of yours too.  Christmas marks God’s announcement.  All who know they are sinners can turn to Jesus, be forgiven and be adopted as sons and daughters of God.  If you have never given your life to Christ and received His grace, you can do so tonight.  You can come talk to me afterward and together, we’ll pray for your heart to be opened and the Holy Spirit of God to come in.  Jesus’ birthday can be the day you are born again.
Then, the story of it will be your story – the memory of your new life.  When you share that story, you are right there with the angels and the shepherds.  Whatever baggage has weighed down your soul is lifted by God’s love as God makes you new.  And like me, for you, telling the story is no longer narrating.  It is confessing.  You become the martyr – the witness – who testifies that the Lord is good and that in Jesus His Kingdom has come.
I titled this Christmas Eve message “The Earth Shall See Salvation.”  This is how it happens.  People like you and me tell the story of God.  This Christmas Eve Bethlehem chapter is but one installment.  When we tell it, we tell it as confession because we are saved and the story is ours.  Our telling is testimony.  People hear our testimony and the Holy Spirit works in their hearts.  They realize their need for God.  They confess their sins, receive Jesus into their hearts, and are born again.  Then they are testifying witnesses.  God is good and we can have life in his name.  And on and on, the Gospel – Good News – spreads until the Earth has seen salvation. 

(We conclude our service by singing “Silent Night”).




[i] Robert Louis Wilken (2003), The Spirit of Early Christian Thought

Monday, January 11, 2016

Joy to Sorrow (Matthew 2:13-23)


Sunday, January 10, 2016

            Joseph’s calloused hands gingerly remove the apron.  He picks up his hammer and heads for the one-room hut he shares with Mary and the baby – Yeshua. 
Everything was so spectacular.  First, he was the nervous suitor, filled with joy when her father said, “Yes.”  He was found acceptable for Mary.  Then he was the enraged fiancé whose betrothed fooled around and got herself pregnant.  Compassion was being crowded out by something new and unwelcome – anger.
Then it got weird.  How did she get pregnant?  God did it, she said.  Right.  How desperate could she be?  Then he had a dream.  God did do it!  Don’t even tell anyone.  They would only ask, how desperate could he be?
Then the census:  with a pregnant wife carrying not his baby, but God’s, he had to travel the miles to his birthplace, Bethlehem.  There, the child was born in a barn.  OK he tells himself, ‘Joseph, you can handle this.’  Then in the middle of the night, a bunch of crazy shepherds show up.  How did they know she was pregnant?  There are strange lights in the sky.  They hear angel-song. 
That pep talk turned into self-evaluation.  He asks himself, ‘Joseph, can you handle this?’  When they have the baby dedicated at the temple, people prophesy, like prophets of old, and it is all about this baby.  ‘Really, Joseph, can you handle this?’
Finally, things settle down.  He has work and living quarters in Bethlehem.  It is modest, but a suitable roof over their heads.  The baby is healthy.  Mary is a wonderful mother.  With this job, he will make enough to feed them for a month. 
Twilight falls and he heads for the hut.  He’s tired and glad to be headed home.  But around the bend, he sees that the weirdness has come back.  Strangers on camels – rich men, foreign men – are outside the house.  What is this??
These stargazers have followed a star that has led them to his house.  Time for another pep talk.  ‘Joseph,’ he asks, knees trembling, ‘How do you talk to royalty?’  No answer comes.
He looks at the exotic visitors.  “Um, Shalom.  Hello.  Come on in.  Don’t know if you’ll all fit.”  It turns out, all he has to do is smile, nod, and stay out of the way as they parade in and drop gifts at Mary’s feet.  They worship – the baby.  Who is this child God has entrusted to Joseph’s care?
He latches the windows so no one can see in.  The last thing this poor man needs is for his poor neighbors to find out he’s suddenly gotten rich. 
The next day they leave.  He tells Mary not to let anyone in.  He goes to work, but is constantly looking around, glancing back over his shoulder.  ‘Joseph, what’s gotten into you?  You’re not yourself today.’  It is a long day.
Finally, he comes home.  Mary and the baby are still there.  They are well.  All the gold and the spices are still there. 
“Mary did anyone come today?”
“No.”
“Did you talk to anyone from the village?”
“I talked to Sarah and Hannah.”
“Mary!”
“Joseph, I had to draw to water.  Would you relax!  We are protected.”
Joseph nods.  He barely eats.  Then, he lays awake, staring out the window at the stars, listening to the normal night sounds of the village.  Occasionally he jumps up, looks out, and then lays back down. 
Finally, he nods off.  It gets weirder and it gets worse.  Someone is in the house, but Joseph does not feel the adrenalin infused fear as if there were an intruder.  He doesn’t fear this person. 
He fears the message.  “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you: for Herod is about to search for the child to kill him.”
Suddenly he’s awake.  Joseph sits straight up, sweating despite the chill in the night air.  Mary and Jesus are sound asleep.  He dresses quickly and goes to the home of Benaiah, the guy who raises horses. 
He vigorously knocks Benaiah, frazzled, opens the door.  “Ok, ok. Joseph, for heaven’s sake.  You’ll wake my whole family.  What do you want?”
“You were going to sell that cart to Abner today.”
“The new cart?”  Benaiah is confused and suspicious.  “What of it?” 
“I’ll buy it.  Right now.”
“You can’t afford it, Joseph.  You’ve been drinking.  Go home and go to bed.”
“How much will he pay you?”
“More than you can afford.”
“More than this is worth?”  Joseph opens the box with the myrrh. 
Benaiah’s eyes grow wide.  “Where did you get that?”
“Never mind.  You give that cart right now, and this is yours.”
For a minute, Benaiah just stares.  “Why are you coming in the middle of the night?”
“That’s my business.” 
“Will the temple police or the Romans come looking for this box of stolen spices?”
“No.  Now, do we have deal?”  Again, Benaiah stares.  Finally he agrees.  “And,” Joseph continues, “I’ll need a strong pack mule, and a horse.”  Benaiah’s stares again.  Joseph shows a gold.   
By sunrise, Joseph, Mary, the baby, and everything they own are 10 miles down the road headed toward Egypt.  Bethlehem does not notice their absence until they are long gone.

When Herod, the puppet King, the ruler who sat on a throne in Jerusalem but ruled at Rome’s pleasure, realized that the wise men would not be coming back, he was infuriated.  Throughout this story, everyone was seeing angels, following stars, and hearing from God in dreams.  Zechariah (the Father of John the Baptist), Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the wise men – they all had direct encounters with the divine.  But not Herod.
He was hot with anger, boiling over.  He did not need God, he thought.  He had his power and wealth by his cunning and ruthlessness, he thought.  He would kill his own family members to protect his throne.  In fact he did just that.  He killed one of his own sons.  He had no problem killing God’s son.  And if he wasn’t sure which child in Bethlehem was the one, he’d kill them all.  Matthew writes that Herod had his soldiers kill all the boys in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or younger. 
In the anchor Bible commentary, W.F. Albright says such an act of cruelty and violence was typical of Herod.  It would not raise an eyebrow.  He called it a comparatively minor incident.  In two years, the kindergarten class at Bethlehem elementary would be all girls.  People in neighboring towns, where Herod killed twice as many, might count Bethlehem lucky that they weren’t hit even harder.  And no one would think to ask why.  This is the world into which Jesus was born.
This part of the story should be told in winter.  This is not for the warm, soft glow of Christmas candles.  God came as a baby who grew up in a world where it was not uncommon to have father come in and say, “Everyone, we’re leaving because someone wants to kill us.”  Herod’s troops.  Arab raiders.  Romans enforcing order.  Doesn’t matter.  Someone wants to kill us.  God stepped into this in order to deal with sin and the destruction it brings to his good earth. 
Surprised?  The death of the helpless is not part of our nativity sets.  But we put those last week.  Are we surprised that this death is a part of the story of salvation?
The only way this can make sense is when we read what Herod did as a part of the grand story of God’s plan to rescue the world from sin.  Why did God allow Joseph and Mary and Jesus to escape?  Why didn’t God rescue the other children from Herod?  These are fair questions.  I have no easy answers.
The first part of the answer I do offer is God is committed to human freedom.  God is sovereign – all powerful.  We see this in God’s absolute authority in creation.  Yet the highlight of God’s creative act is the formation of human beings in God’s image. To be in God’ image, we cannot be robots.  We cannot live by pre-programming or blind instinct.  We cannot merely exist by natural selection.
We have consciences.  We have self-awareness.  We ask, why are we hereWhere are we going?  Self-awareness is the sign that we are God’s image bearers.  But, inevitably, with free choice each and every one of us at some point chooses our own way instead of God’s.  Collective sin is the history of humanity choosing the way opposite of God’s – the way of suffering and death. 
Were God to erase all the painful effects of sin, the image of God would be wiped out in the process.  God’s salvation comes in the midst of human evil.  Maybe God could achieve salvation in other ways.  I don’t know.  This is how God did it. 
Children, murdered by Herod; first-graders, gunned down in Newtown, Connecticut; unarmed young men killed in altercations with the police; my answer about why God allows it all – human freedom – my answer does not feel satisfactory.  I bring up the Sandy Hook the plague of deaths across our country, especially of black young men, not to indict police or to lay blame or be overly political.  That’s not my point.  My point is evil lurks and heartbreak follows.  In the days of Jesus, it was seen in the capricious acts of a murderous tyrant.  In our day evil speaks through systemic racism and rampant violence. 
In the midst of Herod’s evil, God spoke.  Matthew quoted the passage of the wailing in Ramah in verse 18 because when children die, there should be widespread, demonstrative grief.  It is not enough to say Joseph, Mary, and Jesus got out OK.  God had to stop and weep.  We do too.
In the midst of today’s evil, God is bringing salvation.  God also stops to weep.  If we want to be where God is when evil hits, we call it evil.  We weep.  And we work for justice, comfort, reconciliation, and healing because those things are marks of God’s kingdom.

It’s been a few years since the move.  Joseph and family are in Egypt.  He is making horse carts in Alexandria.  After a long day and a find meal, he plays with the 4-year-old child he’s adopted.  Little Jesus is a joy. Joseph’s heart melts when the child calls him “Daddy.”  Mary thinks she’s pregnant.  If she has a boy, they will name him James.  A girl will be Elizabeth.
He lays down to sleep.  Someone is in the house.  Joseph knows him.  It is the same guy who told him Mary was pregnant by the Holy Spirit.  It is the same guy who warned him and Mary to move to Egypt.  ‘O no,’ Joseph thinks. ‘What now?’
“Yes, Lord?”  He says.
“Get up Joseph.  Take the child and his mother, and go to land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.”
‘Things are starting to look up for me here in Alexandria.’  That’s what he wants to say.  But he doesn’t.  He nods in humility.
The next morning, loads that cart he bought from Benaiah.  They head back. 
The first night back in Bethlehem, that guy shows up in his dream again!  “Joseph.”
‘Criminy.’
“Yes Lord.” 
“Joseph, Herod’s son Archelaus is now king.  He is as bad as Herod.”
‘I am not going back to Egypt.  The money from the gifts the wise men gave is nearly out.  And I don’t want to travel across the desert again.  I am a carpenter, not a tradesman.’  That’s what he wants to say to this angel.  But he doesn’t.
            He exhales.  In humility, he says, “What do we do?”
            “Go to Galilee.  Raise the child there.  You won’t see me anymore.”
            Joseph mutters, ‘If I did, I’d never go to sleep again.’
            The angel squints at Joseph.  “I didn’t catch that.”
            Joseph catches himself and straightens himself up.  “Galilee. Yes Lord.  Galilee.  We’ll leave in the morning.”

            God shows up in the real places of life; sometimes in the darkest places.  Search your heart,. That’s where God wants to meet you.  Look for God into your own story. 
            I titled this talk “Joy to Sorrow.”  Sin leads everyone to sorrow.  That’s why salvation is needed.  In Jesus salvation has come and nothing – not Herod or the cross or the evils of today – can stop God’s salvation plan.  So, turn to him.  Turn to the Lord.  From the depths your real life turn to God and embrace his love for you.  When we do that, sorrow gives way to hope.

AMEN

Monday, December 28, 2015

Christmas Birth (Christmas Eve Sermon, 2015)

Christmas Birth (John 1:1-3, 14)
December 24, 2015 – Christmas Eve Worship

            Luke’s telling of the story of the night Christ was born, is unremarkable.  There was a census.  Because Joseph was in the line of David, he had to go to Bethlehem.  The baby was born in a manger because the inn was full. 
            They did not have hospitals.  They did not have bathtubs.  They did not have climate controlled buildings.  Where did births usually happen?  That the savior of the world, God incarnate, was born in a manger – maybe that was business as usual in the first century.
            Of course, the air was thick with animal smells and sounds.  The birth of Jesus was draped in the pungent fragrance of manure.  Sheep and cows baahed and mooed.   Mary delivered her baby with no epidural or any other medication or medical help.  Joseph’s panicked, beating heart provided percussion.  And baby Jesus cried when his bare skin was exposed to the cold night air. 
            In the birth of Jesus, God entered the everyday messiness of human life.  Jesus was every bit a human being, coming into the world the way all humans do.  At the same time, Jesus was fully God.  This is a mystery.    Somehow, this most vulnerable of living things, a human newborn, was, in a way we cannot quite grasp, God. 
            Why would God do this?  Why leave the glories of heaven to live in the squalor of earthly life?  And I don’t think it makes any difference if God entered humanity with 21st century creature comforts or with the hardships faced by a peasant family in 6BC.  Either case is a complete emptying of God’s divinity, God’s majesty.  Why would God do this?  Why did God do this?
            “For God so loved the world, he gave his only son that whoever believes in him would not die, but would have eternal life.”  The story of the birth of Christ is the story of God’s work to offer salvation to the world. 
Sin cuts people off from God, leads people into a society of harm and pain and loss, and ends in death.  This is what sin does.  All people sin throughout their lives.  We live on a planet of 7 billion sinners who descend from hundreds of generations of sinners.  The compounded harm makes this place a hellish distortion of the good earth God originally created.
And we can’t shake our sins.  We cannot, by a herculean moral or ethical effort, stop sinning.
In Jesus, God rescues us from our sins.  The story’s climax is Jesus on the cross taking on himself the end results of sin – suffering and death.  Resolution comes in the resurrection, the defeat of death.  Sin has been accounted for and death defeated.  In Christ, we are saved from sin, saved for relationship with God, saved to eternal life. 
Our first step is to acknowledge our sins and ask God to save us.  We do this and we receive his forgiveness.  We give our lives to Jesus and acknowledge him as our Lord.  And God’s rescue comes – to each who turn to Christ. 

‘Incarnation’ is the theological term that describes God inhabiting humanity.  Jesus is God in human flesh.  This is what is meant when the term ‘incarnation’ is used. 
The Gospel of John illustrates this.  The gospel opens this way: “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.” 
‘The Word’ in John refers to Jesus.  The Gospel establishes that this is God. Another Bible author, the Apostle Paul, makes a similar point about Jesus in Colossians 1. 
He writes, “The Father … has enabled [us] to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13 He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. 15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 16 for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross” (Colossians 1:13-20).
Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, is God and has always been God.  He became human in order to endure the reality of human life.  But he was a human who never sinned.  He lived the human life the way God intended.  John writes, “The Word became flesh and lived among us” (1:14).  Jesus left Heaven’s glory and arrived in a noisy, smelly, cold world.
Because he did this, every human being is invited by God to put their faith in him through Jesus Christ.  When we do we are freed from sin and drawn into eternal life in spiritual, resurrected bodies that cannot be hurt or killed, but that live in perfect love and perfect, unending community.  As John puts it, “to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12-13).  Jesus left eternity and entered our humanity that we might be freed from the limits of corruption that come with sin and join him in eternity.
Paul also asserts this in Colossians.  “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, 10 and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority. 11 In him also you were circumcised with a spiritual circumcision,[d] by putting off the body of the flesh in the circumcision of Christ;12 when you were buried with him in baptism, you were also raised with him through faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead. 13 And when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God[e] made you[f] alive together with him, when he forgave us all our trespasses, 14 erasing the record that stood against us with its legal demands. He set this aside, nailing it to the cross. 15 He disarmed[g] the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in it” (2:9-15).

On Christmas Eve, God sits before us and bids us to come and enter the divine, eternal story.  For some it is unbelievable.  Maybe it is too good to be true?  Maybe it is too fanciful and we are people of logic and reason and science? 
Lee Strobel was an investigative reporter for a Chicago newspaper.  He didn’t believe in fairytales like Christianity.  He was interested in facts, not stories.  Then, his wife became a Christian and this threw him for a loop.  He had to get to the bottom of the phenomenon.  So, he did an exhaustive investigation of Christianity in order to show her the fallacy of it.  He came to a conclusion he could not avoid.  It is all true.
In his book The Case for Christmas he gives this invitation to anyone stuck in doubt, resisting the invitation of God.

I had come to the point where I was ready … [to believe in] the Christ child, whose love and grace are offered freely to everyone who receives him in repentance and faith.  Even [a skeptic] like me.
So I talked with God in a heartfelt and unedited prayer, turning from my wrongdoing and receiving his forgiveness and eternal life through Jesus.
… I know some people feel a rush of emotion at such a moment.  For me, there was something equally exhilarating: a rush of reason. 
Over time, there has been so much more.  I have endeavored to follow Jesus’ teachings and open myself to his transforming power, my priorities, my values, my character, my worldview, my attitudes, and my relationships have been changing for the better (Strobel, 1998, p.91).

And then Strobel writes, what about you?

That’s where we end this evening?  Would you consider turning from sin, turning to God, and receiving Jesus as your Lord and as your Savior.  When you do this, Christmas moves from being a nice story to becoming a part of the greatest turn to happen in your life.  In Christ we turn from sin and death to forgiveness, resurrection, adoption, and eternal life.  Would you make that turn this Christmas?

We end our Christmas service by lighting candles.  We take the light from the center candle, the Christ candle.  We sing “Silent Night.”  As we sing by candle light, open your heart to God.  Let Him in. 
After the service we’ll have some refreshments.  Please join us and enjoy some Christmas cheer.  If you would like to talk further about following Jesus, I’ll be here.


Monday, December 9, 2013

The King’s Version of Justice (Psalm 72)


Sunday, December 8, 2013
Second Sunday of Advent

“Please help the King be honest and fair just like you, our God” (Psalm 72:2).
“The king rescues the homeless when they cry out, and he helps everyone who is poor and in need.  The king has pity on the weak and the helpless” (Psalm 72:12-13). 
What is Psalm 72 saying?  What are we seeing in Psalm 72?  How does it tie to Jesus and to his birth?  Of the 150 Psalms, Psalm 72 is one of only two are related to King Solomon, the son and successor of King David.  Possibly, this Psalm read aloud in the ceremony or coronation for Solomon.
“God give your justice to the King.”  The prayer asks God for prosperity for the new king.  The prayer expresses hope for the expansion of the nation under this king’s rule.  There is prayer for the king’s endurance, long life.  The one praying hopes God will subdue the King’s enemies.  But please note how the prayer starts.  Please, help the king be fair.  Give the king justice. 
I appreciate the comments of Pastor James Howell. He writes,
The Psalm begins by asking God to “Give the king Your justice… and Your righteousness… May he defend the cause of the poor, and give deliverance to the needy.” Such a campaign in our day would be lambasted as “liberal,” and a debate would be touched off about governmental programs versus private sector aid or, more likely, the conversation would drift toward blaming the poor, and insisting they get busy and take care of themselves. [i]

The cluster of Hebrew terms used in these phrases is telling. “Justice” is not fairness or the good being rewarded and the wicked punished. Rather, mishpat (“justice”) is the Bible’s subversive term for God’s desired state of affairs: mishpat is when the poorest are cared for. A society is just to the degree to which every person has enough and is lifted up; a king is measured, not by hordes of chariots or the gold in the treasury, but by whether the cause of the poor was defended, whether the needy were delivered. Similarly, “righteousness” isn’t smug goodness; zedekah (“righteousness”) is being in sync with God’s ways, embodying God’s will.

The most fascinating verse in Psalm 72 is the verse 11: “May all kings fall down before him.” Israel was a small time power, forced into subservience more often than relishing independence. The other kings most certainly would not be falling down before him! Was this national pride? A fantasy? A sick dream? Or a Messianic hint, that in God’s good time, God’s king would be the one before whom all would bow (Philippians 2:10).

But notice why those kings in verse 11 will bow down: “For he delivers the needy when he calls… He has pity on the weak… From oppression he redeems their life” (verses 12 and 13). Other kings never do such things; but one day the truth will be made palpable, and they will realize the wisdom, wonder, and grace of God’s way.

          Christmas magnifies the pain of those who are desperately poor.  Sometimes the church helps them, but governments, kings, and people of power rarely use their resources to elevate downtrodden people.  When help is offered, it does not often actually lift someone out of the suffering imposed by economic hardship. 
Yet Psalm 72, the coronation prayer, calls for justice.  What is justice?  Justice is the king, the one with the most power using what he has to help the weakest in society.  That is Biblical justice.  It is not getting what one deserves.  Biblical justice is the one with power and resources sharing with and uplifting the one who  is poor and vulnerable.  Yearning for that justice, working for it, and most importantly, praying for it – that is Advent prayer.  In our anticipation of Jesus and our celebration of his coming, we are reminded to pray for justice.
          As we do, recall King Herod.  He was ruling in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus’ birth.  Visitors from Persia, star gazers whom we refer to as the three wise men even though we don’t know how many there were come to Herod.  And Herod is scared to death.  What does every first term president want?  A second term.  What does the king want?  He wants to hold onto power.  Herod killed his own sons in his lust for it.  He would not tolerate any competitor. 
          Wise Persian astrologers come looking for the new born king and Herod feels the threat.  So he tries to enlist the visitors from the east.  But they have been guided by a star from God and have come to worship this baby king, not help get him killed.  The God would led them by a star, speaks in dreams and they do not help the wicked, unjust king.
He is so desperate to wipe out  this new threat that when he cannot figure out which 2-year-old in Bethlehem is the one he kills every 2-year-olds in Bethlehem.  Why doesn’t God stop him?  Why doesn’t God simply impose justice on the world?  We need it!
When God made us in God’s image, we were made with a free will.  We can choose.  Humans choose evil – it happens with everyone.  We don’t always choose to sin.  We have the mark of God in us.  We often choose beauty, love, and hope.  But we just as often hurt and lie.  When my sins and your sins stack with the millions and billions of sins of the millions and billions of people in the world now and from all time, then the world is fallen.  If God were to simply force all the pain out we would lose our free will and our ability to choose to worship God.  We would no longer be His followers.  We’d be God’s robots.  God’s wants relationship.
The Psalm prays that the king would “vindicate” the afflicted; in another version it says the king is to rescue the homeless (72:4).  This is the prayer for the king who serves under God.  King Herod was the bringer of affliction. For the sake of power, he committed genocide. 
          But he did not last.  Paranoid kings never last.  He missed his target.  Jesus grew and became the man, the savior, who died on a cross, rose from the death and is now the eternal king.  Holding the two kings – Jesus and Herod – side by side, Lutheran seminary professor David Lose offers this perspective.

The presence of these three magi and their quest for God’s messiah announce that the world is changing, that God is approaching, and that nothing can remain the same in the presence of God’s messiah. The arrival of these wondering astrologers signals that the reach of God’s embrace is broadening considerably, that there is no longer “insider” and “outsider,” but that all are included in God’s plan for salvation. This isn’t a new theme in Judaism, as from the very beginning of the story God promises to bless Abraham that he may, in turn, be a blessing from the world. But now it is happening – all distinctions between people of different ethnicities and religions is dissolving. All are becoming one in Christ, and who knows what may change next.

This is what is at the heart of Matthew’s darker, more adult-oriented story of Jesus’ birth: the promise that is precisely this world that God came to, this people so mastered by fear that we often do the unthinkable to each other and ourselves that God loves, this gaping need that we have and bear that God remedies. Jesus isEmmanuel, God with us, the living, breathing, and vulnerable promise that God chose to come live and die for us, as we are, so that in Christ’s resurrection we, too might experience newness of life.[ii]

          We can read Psalm 72 and see that it is dream, a fantasy.  No king could live up to what is depicted there.  Jesus did. Jesus does.  We see problems – war in Syria; drug addiction in all circles of society; rising teen suicide rates; unchecked terrorism; our own government run by appeasing politicians in search of re-election instead of true leaders that the he good of the nation in their hearts.  We see it all and it appears unfixable.  People sink to depths where there is no hope. 
But then we remember that Christmas is the birth of Jesus, the one who offers real hope.  Lives are changed when His church realizes He is the king who does all that the Psalm describes.  He is the answer to the prayer that is raised in Psalm 72. 
Which king do our presidents and governors and senators look like?  King Herod or King Jesus.  Our leaders have the same sin nature in them that we have in us.  Our governing officials make the same mistakes we make.  They may not repeat Herod’s evils, but they are fatally flawed.  Our hope is in the king born in the manger.
That does not mean we just give up on our leaders, cross our fingers, and hope things won’t get too bad.  Psalm 72 is a call to prayer and the coming of Jesus reminds us that God hears us when we pray.  God answers.  Psalm 72 calls us to turn our faces to God, fall to our knees and say, “Oh God, give the president your wisdom and your justice.”  It does not matter if we like him or hate him.  In our country, the king changes every 4 or 8 years.  God wants us to pray blessing for the president.
As we do, we set our hope in Jesus.  We commit our lives to him.  And daily, we give of ourselves to help hurting people because we know this is the King’s justice.
AMEN