Tuesday, December 25, 2018

From Heaven Above



From Heaven Above – a Christmas hymn by Martin Luther
Meditation for Christmas Day

Who are these angels who come to earth?
Verses 1-3       The angels tell us about a child who is born low but will lift all people up.
This new child will be the joy of all the earth…
            Mangers from many places

Jesus hears your sad and bitter cry and will set you free from all that harms you.


Who are these shepherds who run to see?
Verses 4-6       We are the shepherds, invited to go and see. 
When we hear that a baby is born, we just want to go and see the baby
In a way, they don’t do very much—but we look into their eyes, we watch all their little wiggles, we listen to every little sound, we touch their very soft skin and notice everything 
Babies are vulnerable and babies are a miracle—and so we gaze at them in wonder…
Kind of like that, but even more, the shepherds went to see for themselves this wondrous gift of God.


Who is this Child, so small, so slight?
Verses 7-9       Unexpectedly… God!
O noble Guest!
How did you come to be so small?
This is the thing that is so strange and amazing about how God comes to us in Jesus (and how God comes to us again and again…) that God comes in unexpected ways, in unexpected places…
We can hardly believe it.


Who is this King, a manger his throne?
Verses 10-11 –                        We think God will only come if things are good enough, but…
Our most fancy, rich things are not even enough… velvet vs. rough manger
But Jesus came even more humbly.
So if your Christmas is not fancy, if it is not what you hoped or just like an ordinary day,
Jesus comes to you right there, where you are and invites you to love and wonder, 
Whatever your circumstances.


Who is this Child, who sends a Son?
Verses 12-14   God comes to the manger, and God comes to us today.
Make my heart (make me) like a manger where you can be born.
Since Jesus is in my heart—I want to sing and leap!
We sing together with angels (all messengers) who bring the good news about God-with-us and we start all over again—with a new year singing our joy and love for God’s great gift.

Sunday, December 09, 2018

Expecting Jesus: and a Way out of No Way



Advent 2 - Luke 3

For two whole verses of the six we hear from Luke this morning, Luke is establishing the time and the place, the sources of power—the reign of the emperor Tiberias, a governor over Judea, Herod over Galilee… priests in charge, Annas and Caiaphas…
and somehow, within and beyond all that, John son of Zechariah—Zechariah who in his old age had a child with Elizabeth, a child with unusual pre-birth stories—a child who jumped in his mother’s uterus at the appearance of Mary, pregnant with Jesus. A child whose father was silenced by Gabriel until the baby was born, until he confirmed that what Elizabeth said was true - the child would be named John – a name that was not a family name but a meaningful one: God has been gracious; God has shown favor.

ThisJohn is in the wilderness and it is there that he is baptizing and calling people to turn around into a new way of life—crying out as Isaiah cried out before him:
            In the wilderness, prepare a way so that everyone can be saved by God.

John, the forerunner of Jesus, the one that we usually call John the Baptist is doing so much more. He is baptizing, it’s true. But that’s not what shows who he is… 
In fact, John doesn’t really care if people understand who he is (although the people are really, really curious about that). All John cares about is the One to come.

Who is John? He’s just the voice crying out in the wilderness to prepare the way.
Who is John? The Messiah? A prophet? No, he describes himself as not even worthy to untie the shoes of the One who’s coming.
Who is John? He came as a witness to testify to the light coming into the world.

In the work all our preparations for Christmas—snow shoveling and lights hung up, tree selection and decorating, gift-selecting and wrapping, cookie baking and meal assembling… 
John’s voice calls, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. 5 Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; 6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'

Light flickers in the midst of the busy, filled days and the dark, weary nights—the light of Jesus who is already among us, but whose presence we can easily miss… Jesus, who calls, “Come and see.”

Come and see. Come and know me better. Come and take in the light, glowing and growing.

This week, I had the opportunity to be at a meeting at Redeemer Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, and while I was there, I saw a little ad for their annual Christmas store. I remembered how years ago, very early in our time in the Twin Cities, our family was invited by Pastor Kelly Chatman to come to Redeemer Lutheran Church’s annual Christmas Store. This event was created to give neighborhood children a way to buy presents for their families. Gifts are donated from congregations throughout the Twin Cities area and children can come to buy four gifts for a dollar. We were invited to bring our children with the gracious words that we might not need that kind of opportunity but please come.

Here are some great memories from that event—
Imagine a young teenage girl who took the microphone and began to sing a song from Mary, Mary:
I just can't give up now, I've come too far from where I started from…Nobody told me the road would be easy and I don't believe he brought me this far to leave me.

Then, there was the picking out of the gifts… “Elves” from the congregation took children to pick out their gifts, assuring them that there were still plenty of wonderful items left.

Others helped them wrap and tag the gifts and each child left like joyful little Santas, with a bag of presents to share. 

This display of abundance, where everyone had the chance to enjoy music, eat lunch, take gifts home was a little glimpse of how the light of Christ can make us a beacon of hope for our neighbors. 

We use light as a metaphor because of the way a very small candle can illumine a very dark space, because of the way one candle can light another candle and the light from the first becomes no less. We use light because in both the ancient world where the scriptures were created and in large parts of our modern world light brings a sense of safety, warmth and community.

It reminds me of this prayer that comes from the Easter vigil, the prayer said as we light the Christ candle, “We sing the glories of this pillar of fire, the brightness of which is not diminished even when its light is divided and borrowed.”

What a contrast to another, louder message we hear in ads and shopping pages and even in our own minds and hearts throughout this whole season of getting ready for Christmas—the message that what we have done and what we’re able to do, from gifts to nuts, is probably not quite enough. That we must guard our little corner of the civilization and keep others out. That we must keep our focus on ourselves and our loved ones.

The message of John the Baptist, proclaiming Jesus in the wilderness among us, is exactly the opposite. This is the one who makes a way for all. This is the one who shows God provides plenty even amidst scarcity. This is the one who is preparing a place for us, but not just for us… a place where we can experience Christ’s love and peace and joy.

This week, we light another candle. The light visibly grows and grows throughout the deepening darkness of this season. May this be how it is among and inside us… as we prepare a way, as Christ makes a path home for all. For there is One who is in and around us and who will show up in the most unexpected of places—in the busy filled days, in the dark weary nights, in all joy and in pain too, giving hope—Jesus, the savior of the world.

Sunday, December 02, 2018

Forever means forever



Advent One – Luke 21:25-36

Strange things will happen… to the sun, the moon, the stars… the nations on earth will be afraid of the roaring sea and tides, and they won’t know what to do… people will be so frightened they’ll drop to the ground… 

Today is the beginning of the year of Luke, from December through next November, except for the story of the Magi from Matthew and some Sundays in the gospel of John, we’ll mostly hear the gospel according to Luke this year. It’s one of my favorites because always, Luke shows Jesus turning the world right side up. The lowly are brought up, the oppressed are set free, the oppression in the world order is broken apart. But, obviously, when you’re in the middle of a world order being upended, things look terrible. So we begin Advent remembering than when everything looks terrible, there is more going on than we can see.

I’m not terribly into the apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic genres (describing the destruction of the whole world and life as we know)—in books or movies or life—but this year, I’ve brushed against these stories a couple of times. I read local author Louise Erdrich’s novel, The Future Home of the Living God. It is a near-future dystopia where because of climate change there is no longer any snow, barely even a memory of snow. On days like today, where our numbers are leaner due to the snow, it might seem like that’d be okay (!) but reading the description converted me to take snow as a gift. And in addition to the changes in weather in the story, evolution has reversed, leading to horrific changes in nature and human community. The main character, Cedar Hawk Songmaker, the book’s narrator, puts her thoughts about their lived reality this way: “Maybe God has decided that we are an idea not worth thinking anymore.”

One of my relatives this week, commenting on actual horrific fires and the threat of a tsunami in California and Alaska these past weeks wrote, “The earth isn’t very happy with us.” So, it’s not as if we can’t get our imaginations wrapped up in these stories that maybe we too are witnessing the end—when finally, although humans have been worrying about it for thousands of years, maybe this time it’s really true… of all the end times, maybe this is really it.

As the gospel writer Luke ventures into apocalyptic for a part of his story, his very early Christian community had to be wondering the same… as the temple was destroyed, and Rome fell, it looked like God (who controls all things, right?—heavens and earth, seas and skies)… God must have abandoned them. But no, Jesus says, “When all of this starts happening, stand up straight and be brave.” 

When you don't know what to do, when you’re so frightened you want to lay down and die, don’t spend all your time thinking about what you’re going to eat or drink or worrying about life… but watch and keep praying for strength and remember God’s promise “the sky and the earth won’t last forever, but my words will.”

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

Karoline Lewis wrote this week: Those are words I am holding onto dearly these days. For dear life, in fact. A promise that exposes false promises. A promise that keeps me going. While it is true that so much of life is trying to hold on to what inevitably will change, having this knowledge does not make it necessarily less difficult to cope. Do you feel the same?
On this first Sunday of Advent, moving into the season of Advent, we know ahead of time, we can see in front of us, just how much will pass away these next four weeks -- and quickly. Everything we anticipate at Christmas, everything we plan, what we try to take in, will be gone in a mere month. So, we will attempt to hang on to these moments with tried and true methods -- photographs, videos -- all the while realizing that even these go-to ways of keeping memories will themselves one day pass away. Nothing lasts forever.
And yet, perhaps there is no other time that this is felt more deeply than during the holidays, the mindfulness that nothing lasts forever. This month seems to accentuate the fleetingness of so much of life. Our attempts to remember events are also the means by which we cope with the loss -- that this moment in time can never be repeated in time, ever again.[1]
Luke tells his community that as followers of Jesus, as people trying to live in love with justice and mercy, they may experience legal difficulties, problems with neighbors, things falling apart… but that they and, as we receive his words today, we can stand up and raise our heads, knowing that God’s redemption is drawing near. Even if everything is falling apart, that’s not a sign of God’s absence or God’s lack of concern.
Even as we look ahead to the end of the story—Jesus death on a cross—death does not get the last word. Disciples’ hopes are dashed in their deep grief at Jesus’ death and then, Jesus meets them along the road and in the evening, around the table.
Starting this Wednesday, we’ll gather around tables downstairs in the Fellowship Hall for a meal and evening prayer. Through the simple food and words of that evening, we’ll practice noticing in and around the real, scary, worrisome events of our lives how Christ meets us, inviting us to be brave in the face of them. In Advent, we celebrate God’s coming in history (past), mystery (present) and majesty (at the very end). Advent isn’t just about the birth of Jesus but the many ways God comes to us—a shoot from the stump of Jesse, a lantern flickering in the wind, a deep breath… so we hope that you will make a little space in busy lives to come and share bread, pray together and find ways to be open to the mystery of the present so we can receive the love that Christ has for us.

The Wailin’ Jennys sing:
When the storm comes, don’t run for cover (x3)
Don’t run from the coming storm, there ain’t no use in runnin’[2]
Don’t run from the coming storm, You can’t keep a storm from comin’Gotta stand up and let it in, let love come through your door…

God’s work is not yet finished… God’s promises are still being kept, God is still saving and liberating people… God’s work is not yet finished. How do we wait in the meantime?
By lighting candles, sharing a meal. By loving one another as fully as possible… by letting others love us… by pursuing justice, mercy, goodness.

Jan Richardson, who has written about Advent at the Advent Door for years now says this:
The season of Advent gives us the apocalypse each year not only so that we might recognize it, should it come, but also—and perhaps especially—that we might enter more mindfully into our present landscape and perceive the signs of how God is working out God’s longing in the world here and now. The root meaning of the word apocalypse, after all, is revelation. And God is, in every time and season, about the work of revealing God’s presence. The one who came to us as Emmanuel, God-with-us, and who spoke of a time when he would come again in fullness, reveals himself even now in our midst, calling us to see all the guises in which he goes about in this world.
Advent reminds us, year in and year out, that although we are to keep a weather eye out for cosmic signs, we must, like the fig tree that Jesus evokes in this passage, be rooted in the life of the earth. And in the rhythm of our daily lives here on earth, Christ bids us to practice the apocalypse. He calls us in each day and moment to do the things that will stir up our courage and keep us grounded in God, not only that we may perceive Christ when he comes, but also that we may recognize him even now. There is a sense, after all, in which we as Christians live the apocalypse on a daily basis. Amid the destruction and devastation that are ever taking place in the world, Christ beckons us to perceive and to participate in the ways that he is already seeking to bring redemption and healing for the whole of creation.[3]
Nothing lasts forever – except God’s unending love and promise. God took on temporary life… to give us eternal life. God took on transiency to give us a permanent home with God. God took on death to give us resurrection. Because, with God, forever means forever.[4]


[1]Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher, workingpreacher.org, December 2, 2018
[2]CBC Radio, Published on Aug 2, 2011,Winnipeg folk trio The Wailin' Jennys dropped by CBC Radio 2's Drive for a Session to perform music from their album 'Bright Morning Stars'. Watch
[3]Jan Richardson, The Advent Door, http://adventdoor.com/2009/11/23/advent-1-practicing-the-apocalypse/
[4]Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher, workingpreacher.org, December 2, 2018