I broke Russ Laub’s nose on Monday, and he didn’t even deserve it – not that he would ever deserve a broken nose.  It was an accident, of course.  He and three others of us often play basketball on Monday afternoons.  I was going to the basket, and when I jumped, my head hit Russ’s nose.  It wasn’t my head that broke.

Anyone who plays sports know that these things happen – you bump into each other, you run into elbows, you tear your Achilles, and so on.  Those of us who play basketball above the rim, like Russ and I do, are especially vulnerable.  We know that it goes with the territory of advanced athleticism.

But even though Russ knows and I know and others know that injuries are unavoidable when you play sports, I felt terrible.  Russ is my friend, and it was me who hurt him, no one else.  When we left the gym, Russ had blood all over his shirt and he said he was going to the ER to get it checked out.  Me? I went home, ate dinner, and settled in for the evening.

I had planned to call Russ later, but before I got the chance, he called me.  He told me that his nose wasn’t as bad as he thought.  He told me that he didn’t need to go to the hospital.  But, most of all, he was calling to tell me not to worry about it, that it was an accident, and that I shouldn’t think more about it.  Russ was the one who had been injured, but he called me because he was concerned about me – he wanted me to know that he held nothing against me.  He wanted me to feel free.   What an act of grace on Russ’s part.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I thought of Russ’s phone call as I contemplated God’s forgiveness this week.   That’s because God’s forgiveness and our forgiveness are linked constantly in the Bible.  When we forgive other people, we are reflecting God’s own image in us.  In Jesus, it is God who forgives us of our sins, and we participate in God’s forgiveness as we offer forgiveness to others.  In extending forgiveness to others, God’s children imitate God’s own behavior.  When we withhold forgiveness, seeking to punish and destroy . . . well, it’s not our Creator who we imitate.

Maybe God’s forgiveness and our forgiveness are linked closer than we’d prefer.

We know the Lord’s Prayer so well, the words are so familiar, that it’s easy for us to forget what we are praying.  Let me simply recite this prayer to you, as we pray it:   Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.  Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

We stop at the Amen.  But Jesus didn’t.  He didn’t even give his disciples an “Amen.”  As soon as he finished teaching his disciples this model prayer, he went on to say those words that we avoid like a blow to the nose:  “For if you forgive others when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”  (Matthew 6:14-15)

When people asked the Amish why they offered forgiveness following the terrible tragedy at Nickel Mines, they consistently referred to the Lord’s Prayer.  “Forgiveness,” said one Amish bishop, “is the only idea Jesus underlined in the Lord’s prayer.”  When he said that, the bishop was referring to verses 14 and 15 – the highlighter of Jesus.[i]

What do we make of this?  Was Jesus exaggerating for effect?   Is God’s forgiveness for my sins really linked to my forgiveness of others?  Did Jesus clearly mean what he clearly said?  Maybe we should consult some other verses just to be sure.

Mark 11:25:  “When praying, If you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”

Luke 6:37:  “Forgive and you will be forgiven.”

Ephesians 4:32:  “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.”

Colossians 3:13:  “Forgive each other.  Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

In Matthew, chapter 18, Peter went up to Jesus and asked him to please clarify his teaching on forgiveness.  He asked Jesus, “Now, Lord, how many times should I forgive my brother?  As many as seven times?”  That’s more reasonable right?

“Jesus said to him, not seven times, but seventy times seven.”  (Matthew 18:21-22)  And no, Jesus did not mean 490.  He meant that our forgiveness, like God’s forgiveness, is meant to be never-ending.

And, just to clear up any confusion, Jesus went on to tell Peter the story of the king who called in a loan of one of his principal debtors.   The man came in and pleaded with the king for patience.  The king had pity on him and forgave him his debt.  But then, as soon as he left the king’s presence, that same man went out and came across another man who owed him money.  He grabbed him by the throat and demanded his money.  When the man’s debtor pleaded for patience, the man refused and threw him in prison until his debt was repaid.
Upon hearing this, the king seized the man whose debt he had forgiven and turned him over to the jailers for torture until he could pay back all he owed.

Jesus concludes this story by saying this:  “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart.” (Matthew 18:23-35)

You know, I’ve learned long ago that sometimes questions for clarification are best left unasked.   Maybe Peter should have just stayed silent.  As John Howard Yoder put it, “”Jesus, who was ready without hesitation to pardon prostitutes and disreputable people, was nonetheless extremely strict upon one point:  only he who practices grace can receive grace.”  There is no grace for those who are not gracious.  “Forgiveness,” said that Amish bishop, “is the only idea Jesus underlined in the Lord’s prayer.”

So where does that leave us?  Where does that leave you?  What happens when you’ve been hurt, deeply, and not by accident?  Sons and daughters struggle into adulthood to forgive cruel treatment by their parents.   Fathers and mothers can’t understand children who exploit their love for financial and personal gain.  Husbands and wives live their lives with unhealed wounds caused by neglect, infidelity, and abuse.  Strangers break into our lives and take away our sense of security, trust, and joy.  An unfortunate accident in a basketball game is one thing, but what about those wounds that cut deeper, all the way to the heart?  Can we do it?  Do we have the power and the will to forgive?

No, we can’t; and no, we don’t.

There is a lot of research promoting the health and psychological benefits of forgiveness.  But that’s not how the Bible talks about it.  The Bible does not talk about forgiveness as a self-help tactic to put beside exercise, eating fewer carbohydrates, and getting more sleep.  The Bible does not talk about forgiveness as primarily something we do to improve our health or to ensure our salvation.  Rather, when we pray for “God to forgive our sins, as we forgive the sins of others,” we are praying to a God who is a loving and forgiving parent who empowers us to be forgiving, too.  We are praying to be who God’s created us to be – reflecting the image of our Creator in our very being.

Jesus links God’s forgiveness with our forgiveness, yet it is God’s forgiveness from which we grow.  And it is embedded within the way God created us that we must give in order to receive.  (“Those who save their lives will lose it, those who give their lives for my sake will find it”).  Just as you cannot receive love if bitterness and resentment form a shell around you, so it is with forgiveness.  Clenched fists cannot hold anything anyone has to offer, but, as Saint Augustine says, “God gives where he finds empty hands.”

We are enabled to forgive others when we live into and accept God’s forgiveness of us.  And so forgiveness is what God does.  Yet, to our surprise, through the Holy Spirit, God empowers ordinary people to do it too.

What is forgiveness?  It is not that we cease to hurt.  It is not that we will forget our pain.  It is not pretending that the offense doesn’t matter, that everything will return as it was.  Forgiveness is, as Richard Foster puts it, a miracle of God’s grace where sin no longer separates.  (Prayer:  Finding the Heart’s True Home.)

In one sense, forgiveness is the refusal to take revenge on another person for offending us or hurting us in whatever way.  More broadly and more deeply, forgiveness occurs when we are able to see the people who have hurt us as something more – someone more – than just the ones who have hurt us.  When we pray to God to forgive us as we forgive others, we are praying to God to see us as he created us, in his image, so that we can see others in the same way.

And so those of you who struggle with issues of forgiveness, and I know that many of you do, you need to know you can’t will forgiveness to occur.  You can’t simply decide to do it out of your own power.  God wills it, and God, through his Spirit, empowers it.  That is why we make forgiveness a matter of prayer.  While you can’t do in on your own, you can choose to participate with God’s forgiveness.

And sometimes, to our surprise, we see God where we least expect it.

A few years ago, Sheri Hartzler wrote an article about an experience she had as the director of the Patchwork Pantry, a food pantry housed at Community Mennonite Church in Harrisonburg, Virginia.

Here is what she wrote:
“One night in late August, a middle-aged woman I’ll call Kim came to the pantry. It was a hot, busy night, with the line of those waiting for food stretching far down the hallway. I knew it would be a long night.

During the summer, many friends of the Pantry donate large quantities of garden produce, and this night two tables groaned with tomatoes, peppers, potatoes and even bouquets of flowers. Clients were asked to wait until after their interview before getting produce.

We opened up, and within 10 minutes Kim came storming across the room, demanding an explanation for the delay in getting to the interview table. She was certain all the “good stuff” was being taken while she waited.

I explained that she would be next, that we had a large supply of produce and there would certainly be enough for her to have her choice of vegetables when she got to the table. I even told her to get her produce immediately instead of waiting for her interview if she was concerned.

But nothing I said made any difference. She was angry. She sought out others  . . . and gave them the same complaint. Finally, after eventually getting her interview and her vegetables, she complained one last time, that she only had rotten vegetables to choose from.

I was ready to tell her she didn’t have to get food at the pantry anymore if it wasn’t satisfactory. Why couldn’t she be grateful for the free food? Here we were working hard to make it available and all she could do was complain. I told all my friends and family about the complaining client.

A month passed. Kim came back to the pantry, again arriving early. She came directly to the kitchen where we worked and with tears in her eyes asked for our forgiveness. “I worried about this all month,” she said. “I was wrong to be so upset last time I was here. I should not have complained. I was terrible.”

I was dumbfounded. I told her I assumed she was having a bad day that day, and she said, “It wasn’t just a bad day. It was a bad month. But I had no right to treat you that way.”

I assured Kim of forgiveness and wondered if I would have had the courage to do what she did.

I had to think of Ephesians 4:32 (NIV), which says, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Being the one to do the forgiving is easier than asking for forgiveness, at least for me.

Often I have said I continue to do this work at the pantry because it reminds me to be ever grateful for the things in my life I too often take for granted: the ability to hold a job that pays enough money for groceries and much more and that provides health insurance so that unexpected medical bills don’t cause financial disaster. While I gain much from this reminder, I know that most Wednesday evenings I think of myself as the giver. Kim reminded me that sometimes we learn more from those we serve than we would ever expect.

I only see Kim once a month for a few minutes. She didn’t need to ask my forgiveness in order to continue to get food. She asked because she knew she had done wrong and wanted to wipe the slate clean. I will greet Kim the next time she comes to the pantry in a new way—as a person who has asked for and received my forgiveness. I wonder what else she has to teach me?[ii]

Is there any doubt that this request for and extension of forgiveness freed Sheri and Kim both?  It freed Kim of her guilt and shame, and it freed Sheri to see the people she served as more fully human.  There is no future without forgiveness.

This article reminds me that our work with the WARM shelter is not merely an opportunity for us to share what we have with others.  It is an opportunity for us to see God’s mercy and grace in places we might not expect it . . . and, perhaps, we will realize that those unexpected places are within us.

To be human is to be in conflict.  We bump into each other.  We break a friend’s nose.  We say words that are not received as we intended.  We lash out at people in ways that reflect the anger that we are carrying more than the wrongdoing of anyone else. [iii]

To be human is to be in conflict.  To be human, with the power of the Spirit, is to reflect God’s image in us, participating with God is the journey of forgiveness, both giving and receiving it through Jesus, for this is where new life and new relationships grow into a free and joyful future.

In this new year, may grace and peace be yours in abundance through God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

This is the first time that I’ve seen many of you since the ball dropped and the calendar flipped from 2011 to 2012.  We are now eight days into the new year, and I presume that most of you – if not all of you – have already eaten your sauerkraut and pork.  As everyone knows, this is the proper food to start off the new year right.  Although our family has eaten it, it was not without some drama, including a debate on whether it counts if it’s not swallowed.   I also presume that many of you have made new year’s resolutions, and at least a few of them have already been broken.  Am I right?

If this describes you, today is your lucky day, because I made enough resolutions for everyone.  I’ve made five resolutions this year.  I made three of them for members in my family — I found out long ago that resolutions are more fun when you impose them on others.

My resolution for myself is also my resolution for you.  I count that as two.   And it involves prayer. 

Last September, as a part of our Nehemiah Journey, we spent some time reflecting on our congregation — discovering our strengths and dreaming about what God has in store for our future.  But before we did that, we first administered an anonymous survey meant to help us reflect on our own spiritual practices as individuals.  There was a great response – almost one hundred of us completed this survey.  Almost seventy percent of us said that either they haven’t found prayer to be meaningful or that they have found it difficult to be consistent in our prayer life.  Seventy percent.  So maybe then it’s no surprise that “growth in prayer” was the number one response to the question “how would you like to grow as a disciple of Jesus?”

Although most of us acknowledge that our prayer life is not what it should be, I find it good that we see its importance.  For I can say with confidence that you will not grow in faith without cultivating your life in prayer.  And no matter what comes out of the Nehemiah Journey, we will not grow as a congregation – at least in the way God desires us to grow – if we as a community do not cultivate our life in prayer.  Now, that’s putting it negatively.  Putting it more positively, you will grow in faith, we will grow as a congregation in the way that God desires us to grow if we cultivate our lives with prayer.

This is my resolution for you, for me, for us together:  that with practice, with study, and with discipline, we will grow in our understanding and practice of prayer.  Prayer is the ground through which we go forward in faith in 2012.  And with this new year’s resolution, there is no better place to turn than toward Jesus.  As we heard this past week, all of God’s promises have been stamped with the Yes of Jesus.

Over the next few weeks, we will explore Jesus’ life of prayer:  his teachings, his example, the words that he used.  I’ve heard a lot about Jesus’ teachings on prayer, but little about how and when and why and where he actually prayed.  I think we have a lot to learn about ourselves and our God not just by hearing what Jesus had to say about prayer but by actually following him in prayer.  As my dad told me as he began to teach me about how to turn wood bowls on the lathe – after a few simple instructions, the best way to learn is to spend time on the lathe.  We learn by praying.

Mark’s gospel begins with a big bang, not with a silent night, holy night.  There is no birth story in Mark.  No, John the Baptist bursts into the scene, he baptizes Jesus, the heavens are torn open, and the Spirit of God descends upon Jesus like a dove.   Jesus is possessed by the Holy Spirit, and, by that Spirit, he is led out into the desert to be tempted by Satan.

This is how Jesus begins his ministry.  He teaches with authority, he drives out evil spirits again, with authority.  And while the good religious people don’t know he is, the demons certainly do.  It takes a demon, after all, to recognize a person possessed.  News about Jesus spreads all around Galilee.

This is when Jesus goes with James and John, to the home of Simon and Andrew.  It’s already been a big day.  They are probably tired, they are probably hungry, but Simon’s mother-in-law is sick.  So Jesus takes her by the hand, he heals her, and she immediately begins serving them.  Now, I can just hear the female flavor of our congregation say, “typical men.”  Instead of preparing their own beds and making their own snacks, they instead see how they can get the woman well enough to do it for them.  But there is a deeper lesson here.  When we are healed by Jesus, whether physically, emotionally, psychologically, or spiritually, we are free for a life of service. That’s when we know we’ve been healed – when we are free to serve, to give of ourselves for others.

After Jesus’ teaching, after his exorcisms, and now after his healing, news about him went viral by the first century equivalents of Facebook and Twitter.  Even though it was night, a flash mob made up of the sick and the demon-possessed and the whole town came to the house where he was staying.  I want you to look closely at verse 34 because I think it explains what happens next.  With the whole town gathered at the door, it says that Jesus healed many of various diseases, and he drove out many demons.  To me, it seems significant that this verse does not say that Jesus healed everyone and drove out all the demons.  It implies that there were some who were not healed.  Jesus is one person.  He is God.  He is a human being.  He has had a busy day.  He’s got the whole town at his door with seemingly endless needs for his immediate attention.  He healed many, it says, he didn’t get to everyone.  He couldn’t.  Not like this.

And, very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and he went to a solitary place, and he prayed.  Jesus was working after dark and got up to before before light.

In the survey that we completed as a part of the Nehemiah Journey, most of us chose “busyness and overcommitment” as our biggest impediments to spiritual growth.  That doesn’t surprise me.  It’s mine, too.  When life gets busy, when the calendar gets full, when the days get long, we tend to make prayer a casualty, calling it collateral damage for a chaotic life.  We tend to squeeze out the very thing that nourishes us so that we can attend to our schedules.  Jesus taught with authority and healed with authority and power, but still that’s not what Jesus did.  But I think John Wesley follows after Jesus when he said, “I have so much to do that I spend several hours in prayer before I’m able to do it.”  His busy schedule drove him to prayer, not away from it.

When you think about it, isn’t giving up on prayer because you’ve got so much to do kind of like giving up running because you’ve signed up for a marathon?

What we lack is not motivation.  Motivation is a head thing.  Most of us want to grow in our prayer lives.  Where we are lacking is not motivation, it’s follow through.

A couple of years ago, three others and I began training for a marathon.  And very early in the morning, while it was still dark, we would get up, leave the house, and run.  Even during the winter, when our sweat would freeze on our faces.  Our alarm clocks went off at 5:30 am on several Saturday mornings so that we could run together.  And, speaking for myself, when my alarm clock went off it was like my mind was at war with my body.  My mind would scream out at my body to stay in bed, saying things like:  “Yesterday was very busy, stay in bed you idiot.  You didn’t get enough sleep, stay in bed you idiot.  You can make it up tomorrow, stay in bed you idiot.  You’ve got the sniffles, stay in bed you idiot.”  But I got up and ran.  Why?  Because I could not do what I desired to do without training.  Because the threat of 26.2 miles was simply too big for me to ignore.  And, more than that, because other people were counting on me to be there, too.

After he healed many, after he drove out demons from many, very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus left the house and went off to a solitary place, and prayed.

Did you ever wonder why Jesus prayed?  I mean, after all, he is the Son of God.  He is filled with God’s Spirit.  He spoke and taught with the authority of God himself.  I’ve heard some people say that Jesus prayed because he is human.  I think that’s right.  Jesus acknowledged his need to be alone, to be still, simply because he was human.  The busier our lives, the more we need to cultivate our prayer life.  As a human being, Jesus’ energy, his presence, was limited.  He did not heal everyone.  In prayer, Jesus understood more clearly how he was to be used for the greater glory of God.

But I think there is another reason why Jesus prayed.  It’s not only because he is human.  It is because he is God.  Jesus is the most complete revelation of God that we have.  Jesus prayed because he is God.  Think about that.  We have a praying God, and Jesus shows us what it looks like the be living prayer.

Sometimes, I think, we recite our prayers like children write their letters to Santa, filled with a list of things that we wish for, we need, we desire.  But prayer is not simply a one-way street.  It is dialogue.  It is communion.  Prayer is not a means of turning on God’s favor, like a tap.  The essence of prayer is not getting God to do what we want, but learning what God wants, and discovering and submitting to the will of God.  Not my will, but your will be done, Jesus prayed.

It is in this sense that we can say that God also prays.  In fact, the Bible shows us that some prayer is even initiated by God.  “Abraham, Abraham.” (Genesis 22:11) “Moses, Moses” (Exodus 3:4)  “Samuel, Samuel” (1 Samuel 3:4).  Again and again, the Old Testament assures Israel that God hears their prayers and responds to them.  There is no formula for prayer; there is no proper time and place.  The Bible does not present an art of prayer; it presents the God of prayer, “the God who calls before we answer, and answers before we call” as it says in Isaiah 65, verse 24.

Simon and his companions went looking for Jesus.  When they found him, they exclaimed, “Everyone is looking for you!”  In other words, your schedule beckons!  You are needed!  You are sought!  There’s work to be done!

But Jesus is a praying God living prayer.  He will not be ruled by the tyranny of the urgent.  In the face of so much to do, his focus and his strength were enriched by his time in prayer.  Let’s go somewhere else, he said, “so that I can preach there also, for that is why I came”  And so they went, leaving some things undone.  Jesus could not provide universal coverage for everyone’s health needs.  But he would give his life for the salvation of all.

I was reminded recently of a story that a mom told me about when I was an infant.  From the beginning, when they brought me home from the hospital, I would sleep through the night.  I’d like to think that this was a sign of my maturity, but it’s not good when a newborn sleeps through feedingd .  Infants need to be nourished, and my parents were worried that I wasn’t gaining weightand didn’t seem interested in nursing.  Children who for unclear reasons do not grow as expected during these first few months or even years are often diagnosed with the condition, “failure to thrive”.  My mom was worried that this was me.  And so, when I cried out in the middle of the night, waking them up and demanding food, they celebrated.  This was the beginning of my growth.

Given the demands that are placed upon our time, our energies, and our resources, given the everyday needs to be met, decisions to be made, business to attend, people to contact, conflicts to be resolved, we cannot rely on ourselves to grow as God desires us to grow.  Without cultivating our lives in prayer – as individuals and as a congregation — we will fail to thrive.  But I think God celebrates when his children cry out to him in prayer.

Text:   Luke 1:26-55
Date:  December 18, 2011

We know the story, right?  God sends the angel Gabriel to Nazareth to visit Mary, a teenager pledged to be married to Joseph.  She’s a virgin.  “Greetings, favored one.  The Lord is with you,” the angel says.  Then, answering Mary’s questions, Gabriel goes on to tell her that the Holy Spirit will come upon her and that she will become pregnant.  She will give birth to a son, the Son of God, and she will name him Jesus.  “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered.  “May it be to me as you have said.”  Then the angel left her . . . left her with a special edition of the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

Now, I know that the Bible doesn’t say actually that, but indulge me a little bit.  After all, my comprehensive research has revealed that this book has come automatically with a positive pregnancy test since the beginning of time — or at least since 1984.  And, in one sense, Mary is no different from any other expectant mother.  Besides the conception, there is no reason to believe that Mary’s pregnancy was fundamentally different from typical pregnancies of mothers everywhere.  This book, if she had it, would have helped Mary through the nine months of pregnancy, telling her what to eat, what changes in her body to anticipate, how her baby was growing and so on.

For nine months, Mary’s womb is the place where God chooses to dwell.   Let me repeat that.  For nine months, Mary’s womb is the place where God chooses to dwell.   God enters the world not in a spectacular display of shock and awe but in the place that historically has been among the most vulnerable for any human life:  the womb of an unwed teenager.  An unwed teenager, that is, living in occupied territory far from the center of power.  God enters into this world as a speck, a promise, a whisper, within the flesh of a young woman.  This is how God chose to reorder our world, and, because the Son of God was within her, Mary had to reorder her expectations.  She had to reorder her life.

What to expect when you’re expecting? What do you expect when you are expecting God to take up residence?

We know what David was expecting.  When he became king over Israel and conquered Jerusalem, he  took up residence where kings typically take up residence — in a fortress.  (2 Samuel 6)  David claimed Jerusalem as his own, and, with modesty worthy of a king, he called it the City of David.  David became more and more powerful because the Lord God Almighty was with him.

One day, after he was settled in his palace, comfortable, remote in hand, and with his feet up on the coffee table, David casually said to the prophet Nathan, “Here I am, living in a palace of cedar, while the ark of God remains in a tent.”  Nathan replied, “Whatever you have in mind, go ahead and do it, for the Lord is with you.”  What David had in mind was building God a house.  After all, wasn’t that the least he could do?  Whether it’s for war or glory, isn’t power that is possessed always meant to be used? ^[i]

That night, the word of the LORD came to Nathan and gave him a message to give to David, “House?  What’s this about a house?  Who said anything about a house?  Did I tell you to build a house?  Have I ever lived in a house?  Since the time I led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, I’ve been moving with them, place to place with a tent as my dwelling.  I’m the one who will build a house for you, not the other way around.”

David, with his power, with his wealth, with his will, expected to build the place for God to dwell.  A place worthy of a king . . . like himself.

What do you expect when you are expecting God to take up residence?

Near the beginning of the first trimester of pregnancy, the amniotic sac forms around the fertilized egg to help cushion the growing embryo throughout pregnancy.  At the end of the first month, the baby is about the size of a grain of rice.  By the end of month three, the baby still is only three to four inches.  At this size, the baby is almost fully formed.  With arms, hands, fingers, feet, and toes.  He can open and close his fists and mouth. Fingernails and toenails are beginning to develop, the external ears are formed.

During these first three months, a mother can expect to experience food cravings, fatigue, tenderness in the breasts, heartburn and morning sickness.  Her body is adapting and providing nourishment for the baby growing in her womb.  Her body needs to make space for another living being — one who has its own identity yet is a part of her; one who demands much from her yet cannot be born into this world without her.

After the angel left, Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea to spend some time with Elizabeth, her relative who was miraculously six-months pregnant.  There, Elizabeth confirmed what Mary had been told.

What did Mary expect when she was expecting?  Let’s let her speak for herself.

Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.

Surely, for now on, all generations will call me blessed;
for the mighty one has done great things for me, and holy is his name.

His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”  (Luke 1:46-55)

Mary was at the end of her first trimester when she returned home.  Within her, she carried God-who-is-with-us.

What do you expect when you are expecting God to take up residence?

We know what Solomon was expecting.   From the beginning, God was explicit.  When Israel wanted a king to rule them, they were rejecting God’s rule.  God warned them that a king would take their freedom and would make them his servants.  Yet because his people wanted to be like the other nations, God let them.   God conceded that David’s son Solomon would build a house for his name, and Solomon did.

Mary said, “My Spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.”  In terms of wealth and wisdom and concubines, there was no king like Solomon.

Mary said, “The Lord has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” Solomon conscripted laborers from all Israel – thirty thousand men.  He sent them off to Lebanon in shifts of ten thousand a month.  He set a master in charge of this forced labor.

Mary said, “The Lord has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”   Solomon had seven thousand carriers, eighty thousand stonecutters, over three thousand foremen to build the Temple.  He overlayed everything with gold.

Mary said, “The Lord has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has helped his servant Israel, remembering his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”  At the dedication of the temple, Solomon said, “I have indeed built a magnificent temple for you, a place to dwell forever.”  (See 1 Kings 6-8)

What do you expect when you are expecting? What do you expect when you are expecting God to take up residence?

During the second trimester of pregnancy, the baby is very, very busy.  He’s sprouting hair.  His ears and eyes move into their correct positions.  He starts to suck and to swallow, to yawn and to hiccup.  He might kick and jab, and he is developing his senses and starting to smell, to taste, to see, and to hear.  For the mother, the second trimester may mean less morning sickness and fatigue.  But not always.  It’s becoming more and more obvious that the mother is pregnant – she’s showing more because the baby is growing more.

Mary was carrying a whole new world in her womb, a world in which she – a poor peasant girl but a servant of God — is lifted up and given a great task to do; a world in which the mighty fall low, and the humble are lifted up; a world in which rulers tumble from their golden thrones and the rich are sent away empty; a world in which the hungry are filled with good things.

Mary’s vision was one in which all people wanted and waited for and longed for.  This is what Mary was expecting when she was expecting.  What do you expect?

The Christmas story is about God taking up residence in the flesh and all the risk that comes with it.  It’s the same risk that God takes when he takes up residence in us.  It’s the risk of embodying, the risk of being fully human, fully vulnerable, fully open.  It’s the risk of saying yes to God and taking what comes.  The Christmas story is a reminder to be born again and again and again.  God coming into our world and taking up residence lacks the pomp and the circumstance associated with kings and presidents.  No, the Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. (John 1:14, The Message)

A baby growing within his mother’s womb is vulnerable.  It needs nurturing, tending, and attention.  This is how God chose to enter the world and chooses to reorder the world.  What does it mean to live a God bearing life?  Let’s look to Mary.  Mary didn’t have it all worked out.  Things ended up very differently than how Mary expected.  The cross made sure of that.

But Mary shows us that bearing God does not mean that we need to do something fantastic, incredible, extraordinary so that God will say yes to us.  No, it is just that we have to be willing to say yes to bearing Jesus in the midst of the ordinary, mundane, and the everyday.  It is then when God transforms our humble places into sacred spaces, vessels for the divine to be born into our lives and into our world.

Soon-to-be parents get books like What to Expect When You’re Expecting, but, in truth, parenting is more like jazz music than classical.  It’s beautiful because it can only be done with improvisation and in coordination with others.  I think it’s the same with faith.  When we carry the Spirit of God within us, we know what sort of things to expect – things like Mary’s song tells us to anticipate.  But it’s beautiful because it can only be done with improvisation and in coordination with others.

During the third trimester. a woman may feel that there is no way that her belly can get any bigger.  But it does.   It gets a lot bigger because the baby is getting a lot bigger.  As the time passes from month seven to month eight to month nine, the mother anticipates the baby’s birth – not so that things will get back to normal because things will never get back to normal.  No, the mother knows (believe me she knows) that the baby was not meant to stay inside of her.  It was meant to be delivered so that it can grow and grow and be shared with the world.  She desires to hold in her arms the baby that she has carried inside of her and delivered into the world.

What do you expect when you are expecting God to take up residence?

Sometimes, I think we need to remind each other what to expect.  We need to remind each other because there is One who has come to us and who desires to grow within us.  We need to remind each other because there many times when we feel that God’s plan is too much for us to bear.  We need to remind each other that birth – all birth – involves pain.  We need to remind each other that Christ’s Advent is coming.

Ready or not, Jesus is coming. We don’t know the day, we don’t know the hour, but he gave us the signs, and he told us to be ready.  We need to be reminded that, through his Spirit, God desires to take up residence in me, in you.  This is how God reorders our world – not through the trappings of worldly power but through the vessels of people who simply say “yes” to his call.

What do you expect when you expect God to take up residence?

Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, “The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:20-21)

What do you expect when you are expecting?  Expect the unexpected, because nothing is impossible with God.

We are the Lord’s servants.  May it be to us as the Lord has said.

Two weeks ago, the House of Representatives debated whether “In God We Trust” should be our national motto.  This might confuse you, since that already is our national motto, and it has been for over fifty years.  Now, you might ask, why would Congress spend time reaffirming our national motto?  Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? It’s campaign season.

But there is a second reason.  There is a feeling that people are trying to take God out of our culture, that our national motto is under attack, and that it needs to be protected, even though courts have consistently held that it does not violate the separation of church and state.  Courts have said that the First Amendment “prohibits the enactment of a law or official policy that establishes a religion or religious faith, or tends to do so.”  (Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U.S. 668, 678 (1984).

How have the courts reached their conclusion that our motto is constitutional?  Let me read straight from a recent decision of the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, Newdow v. LeFevre, quoting an earlier case:

“It is quite obvious that the national motto and the slogan on coinage and currency ‘In God We Trust’ has nothing whatsoever to do with the establishment of religion.  Its use is of a patriotic or ceremonial character and bears no true resemblance to a governmental sponsorship of a religious exercise . . . “[the national motto] has no theological or ritualistic impact.”[i]

Did you get that?  According to the courts, the only reason why “In God We Trust” does not violate the First Amendment is because it is of a patriotic or ceremonial character and has no theological or ritualistic impact whatsoever.

If that is truly the case and that is truly the law, then shouldn’t we as Christians make it our goal to get that motto declared unconstitutional?  Not by filing lawsuits, but by actually reflecting what it means to trust God and by encouraging more and more people to do the same?  Shouldn’t we dream of the day when courts cannot help but say, yes, “In God We Trust” violates the First Amendment because it does indeed mean something beyond patriotism or ceremony?  Shouldn’t we dream of the day that when people use the word “God”, they are not referring to a vague deity off in the distance and acknowledged on a coin, but to a specific God who is made known in Christ and who lives within their hearts?

There are some who say that politics should be kept out of the church.  But in the passage this morning, Paul makes it clear that faith in Jesus is inherently political; that’s because faith in Jesus is inherently a challenge to the powers and the principalities.  Based on the passage this morning, I think Paul would condemn a motto that mentions trust in God in a ceremonial or patriotic way.  I think Paul would have a field day contrasting what we as a culture really trust and what trust in God really looks like.

Let’s go back to what Paul and Silas preached in Thessalonica.  In Acts 17, a mob attacked the believers and brought them before the authorities, shouting, “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also . . . they are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus.”

Now, what could Paul possibly have preached that would have led some people to act contrary to the decrees of the emperor?  I think we have some good clues in his follow-up letter to the Thessalonians.

To these people, charged with treason, threatened with death, Paul wrote that the day of the Lord is coming, the day of Christ’s arrival is coming.  They will not be separated from God, for Jesus is the Lord of the living and the dead.  Console each other with these words, Paul said.  That was last week’s sermon.

But now, concerning the times and the seasons of this day, Paul writes, they don’t need further instruction.  They already know that it will be unexpected, that it will come like a thief in the night.  But look at verse 3.   “When they say, “there is peace and security, then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape.”  (1 Thessalonians 5:3)  Who are the ones saying “peace and security.”

Paul’s audience would have known immediately.  Just as we reached in our pockets and found “In God we Trust,” they could have reached in their pockets and found “Peace and security.”  It was on the coins.

Pax et securitas.  “Peace and security” was one of the mottos of the Roman Empire, and it was imprinted on coins throughout the Empire.  In Ephesus, a coin was issued in 28 BC that was meant to remind those within Asia Minor of the peace and security that the Emperor Octavian had brought into the world.

Both sides of the coin make this clear. ‘IMP(erator) CAESAR DIVI F(ilius) CO(n)S(ul) VI LIBERTATIS P(opuli) R(omani) VINDEX’ (‘Imperator Caesar, son of god, consul for the sixth time, protector of the Roman people’s liberty’). The reverse depicts personified Pax, holding an emblem of peace and harmony.  As pax was accomplished only as a result of the emperor’s military strength, the entire symbol was situated within a laurel wreath.  The symbols of which would certainly not have been lost on first-century observers.  Peace and security.[ii]

In Syria, there is an inscription which reads, “The Lord Marcus Flavius Bonus . . . has ruled over us in peace and given constant peace and security to travelers and to the people.”[iii]

Peace and security.  Whose peace?  Whose security?  That depends, doesn’t it?  It depends on where you find yourself in relation to the empire.  Paul takes the Roman motto from their coins and exposes it as foolishness and vanity for those under the rule of Christ Jesus.  Paul does not want the church in Thessalonica to be seduced by such empty slogans.  The Pax Romana, the Roman peace, was not the peace of Jesus.  The Roman security, the security found through the protection of empire, is not the security that the followers of Jesus should seek.  No, Roman peace and Roman security will be exposed as mere shadows in the light of the day of the Lord.

There is homeland security rhetoric, imprinted on coins, and then there is truth that is found in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.  Peace and security will not come from the powers and the principalities in this world, but from the power of God unleashed through his church.  Do not confuse the two, Paul is saying.  They are in opposition.  Do not fall on your knees with others worshipping the god of power, greed, and fame.  They are the ones doomed to destruction, not you.

You, Paul writes, are not in darkness.  You will not be surprised by the day of the Lord.  Because you are children of the light, children of the day, you do not belong to the night, you do not belong to the darkness.  And so you must be vigilant, constantly prepared, alert and self-controlled.  It is the night when people sleep.  It is the night when people get drunk.  But children of the day are living now what will be in the future, when, as Revelation 22:5 says, “there will be no more night.  They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.  And they will reign forever and ever.”

Paul contrasts day and night, light and dark to describe the clash of the kingdoms, and he takes the language of Roman rule and customs and baptizes them with Christ.

In Thessalonians 2:12, Paul says that God calls the Thessalonian Christians into his own kingdom.

In Thessalonians, chapter 4, he uses the word parousia to describe the coming of Christ.  This word, parousia is related to the arrival of Caesar, a king, or an official to a city.  Apantesis refers to the citizens going out to meet the dignitary to welcome them and accompany them inside the city.  Do you see what is happening here?  Paul is talking about the arrival of a new king, Jesus, and when he says that those who have died and those who are living will meet the Lord, he is not talking about escaping with Jesus but welcoming Jesus and accompanying him to reign on earth.  The Thessalonians would have recognized this language as inherently political talk.

Finally, Paul uses the word kyrios, or “Lord” to refer to Jesus.  When we call Jesus “Lord” we don’t normally think of it as a political statement.  But using kyrios, particularly after using parousia and apantesis, would not have been misunderstood.  People in the Roman empire used the term kyrios to refer to Caesar.  And so if Jesus is Lord, then Caesar is not.  You cannot get more political than that.

According to Paul, the Roman empire and the rule of Caesar is a grotesque parody of the Kingdom of God and the rule of Christ.  “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.”  Colossians 2:15

Now, it is important to recognize what Paul is doing.  Paul is not leading a social movement for change in the Empire’s policies.  I don’t think you would find Paul Occupying Wall Street or planning a Tea Party.  I don’t think he would have time for that.  Paul’s goal was not to reform the Roman Empire; it was to pronounce the arrival of a completely new empire, a completely new kingdom.  He is reminding, and calling, and exhorting the church to be the church.

Paul assures the persecuted church in Thessalonica that God in Christ will intervene to set the world rightside up.  God in Christ will bring justice and peace and security once and for all.  Jesus is Lord.  Not Caesar.  Jesus is coming to set things right.  Not Caesar.  The humble servants of Jesus will be the ones to greet him and to welcome him, not the dignitaries and the important people bound to Caesar.  The good news – the gospel — of victory belongs to Jesus.   Not Caesar.

The Roman Empire proclaimed peace and security through military and economic strength, silencing their enemies with their power.  Is that so different from what we hear today?  But as Christians, we know that peace and security come only through the Prince of Peace, the faithful son of God.  This is the rightside up kingdom.

But how do children of the day remain vigilant, awake, and ready?  As Christians, we have a mission to accomplish now, not just a future to await.  In Acts, chapter 1, the disciples asked Jesus before his ascension, “Is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”

⁷ He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. ⁸ But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

The church has been empowered by the Holy Spirit now to proclaim the good news of the arrival of a new king, and we are to welcome his reign over our lives now, even as we wait for his reign to find fulfillment on earth.

Let me give you a personal reflection.  I don’t offer this as the appropriate response for all Christians – just one way that I have decided to live the politics of Jesus.  As we enter into an election year, I have decided to opt out.  That sounds like a potential candidate’s statement doesn’t it?  If nominated, I will not run. If elected, I will not serve.

But my decision relates not to whether I will run but whether I will vote.  Now, I want to be clear, there are good reasons to vote. I have voted in the past.  But I want to explain to you my personal choice.

• I don’t like how my mind gets caught up in the campaigns.  It tempts me to distract me from what I truly believe about lasting change.  I believe that lasting change – transformation — comes from God’s Spirit.   I want Christ’s Spirit to occupy me and my endeavors.
• Not voting is a reminder that my identity and my hope is not contingent upon the political process or the powers that be. True power resides ultimately in the church and not in Washington, D.C.
• Votes are very, very vague ways to demonstrate my true concerns.  Whatever party I vote for, whatever candidates I support, they will ultimately hold views that I find problematic from a Christian perspective.  I am concerned about many issues:  Abortion.  Capital Punishment.  Environment.  Poverty.  Immigration.  Military spending.  How I feel about these particular issues relate to by faith in Christ.  This campaign season, I want to commit myself to speak and to act more clearly than what my vote could possibly do.

Whatever you choose, think carefully about how your participation in the whole political process affects and reflects your hope in Jesus.  Ask yourself whether you get more energized by partisan politics or by the politics of Jesus.  Ask yourself whether you find yourself reading more about politics than reading your Bible.  Ask yourself whether you spend more time in your mind developing arguments for or against a candidate rather than proclaiming the good news of Jesus.  Ask yourself whether your hopes for change hinge on an electoral victory rather than the power of the Spirit in your own life and in the life of the church.

Clarence Jordan said that “The good news of the resurrection of Jesus is not that we shall die and go home with him, but that he has risen and comes home with us, bringing all his hungry, naked, thirsty, sick, prisoner brothers with him . . . [And]

the proof that God raised Jesus from the dead is not the empty tomb, but the full hearts of his transformed disciples.  The crowning evidence that he lives is not a vacant grave, but a spirit-filled fellowship.  Not a rolled-away stone, but a carried-away church.”[iv]

In God We Trust?  May we long for the day when courts cannot help but recognize these words as carrying theological and ethical value.  May we long for the day when these words are taken off our coins and imprinted on people’s hearts and minds.

Maranatha.  Come Lord Jesus.

Hurricanes.  Earthquakes.  Aftershocks.  There are certain things that can’t help but get our attention, if you’re not sleeping that is.  They disrupt our normal routines, our everyday duties and we take notice.  We analyze hurricane trackers, we check Richter scale measurements, we ask others for their “where were you” stories.  For a little while, this is all anybody talks about.  Then, the ground stops shaking, the sun comes out, and our lives return back to their comfortable routines.  We soon forget what seemed at the time to be signs of the apocalypse.

Now, I’m admittedly exaggerating my point, but isn’t this pattern similar to a popular notion of what it means to be a Christian?  You feel convicted by your sin, you have a moving encounter with Christ, you get “saved,” and then pretty much, you’re in, and all that’s left is the talking about it.  And even that soon dies down.  Maybe that’s not what you believe, but maybe that’s how you feel it has been for you.  It’s as if God has paid the price, but you can’t find the change to give back.

This is not the way God intended life to be. “The means to God is Christ.  And no one can know Christ unless one follows him in life.”

Have you heard this quote before?  Hans Denck wrote those words in the sixteenth century, and those who call themselves Anabaptists have been quoting it ever since.  But what often gets omitted from this quote is what our brother Hans wrote immediately after it.  Let me say this quote again to include the words that follow.

“The means to God is Christ.  And no one can know Christ unless one follows him in life. And no one can follow after him except as one already knows him.”

I can understand why that last part of the quote often gets omitted.  It makes the whole thought seem like circular logic, like a mystery wrapped in the middle of a riddle all boxed up in an enigma.

You can’t know Christ unless you follow him in life, but you can’t follow him unless you know him.  For those of us who are wondering what’s required of us, doesn’t that just beg the question?  When it comes to knowing God, is it knowing or following Christ that’s central, that is most important?  I think Hans would answer that question with “Yes.”  I think he wrote exactly what he intended to communicate.

For Christians, Jesus Christ is both the pattern for how we live and the empowering presence that allows us to live, truly live, to become who we are, who God created us to be.

Coming to Christ means new birth, it means forgiveness from sin, but it also means an experience of new way of life.  Creation, incarnation, salvation, transformation, and sanctification, they belong in beautiful integration — Christ comes to us, Christ saves us, Christ’s Spirit dwells within us to transform us as we follow Jesus and grow into him.

We know Christ and his salvation as we follow him and we follow him when we truly know him.  Yes, it is a mystery.  But God is a mystery, and God moves in mysterious ways.  It is laughable, when you think about it, that people like me can earn a degree called a Masters of Divinity.  No one can ever master the study of God, because the study of God, the knowledge of God, cannot be separated from a life lived in obedience to God.

Take Moses for example.  We must remember that before Moses grew up and became Charlton Heston, that bearded man with the wind blowing against his face, holding his staff up high before the Red Sea and talking in that heavy, authoritative voice,  before Moses came down the mountain to lay down the law, he was a fugitive from the law.  He was a man wanted for murder.  Before he was the legend, the leader, the liberator, Moses was an outlaw on the lam leading not a captive people to freedom but his own pretty pathetic life to simple survival.

Moses had killed an Egyptian, he buried his body in the sand, and then he headed for the hills.  He was now a man without a country or a people.  His adopted family, the Egyptians, wanted to kill him.  His birth family, the Hebrew slaves, they rejected him.  Listen to how Moses refers to himself.  “I have become an alien living in a foreign land.”  He was living his life tending his father-in-law’s sheep.  The adopted son of royalty had become the directionless son-in-law stuck in a dead-end job.  A leader?  No.  He was safe and secure and going no where.

He was going no where, that is, until God disrupted his pathetic life and called him into a life of service in leadership.  He was out tending the sheep around Mt. Horeb, when he saw a bush on fire that did not burn.  I love how the Bible describes Moses’ thoughts in verse 3.  Moses sees the bush that doesn’t burn, “so Moses thought, I will go over and see this strange sight – why the bush doesn’t burn.”  It’s as simple as that.  And it’s there, in the midst of this ordinary day, that Moses has his encounter with the Almighty God.

I think of Moses’ encounter with God, and I can’t help but think about a story from my personal life.  I’ve told this story in a sermon about six years ago, and I told it again to the Exploring Baptism class last week.  But I want to tell it again this morning.

As most of you know, my wife Sarah and I lived for three years in rural Mozambique as volunteers for Mennonite Central Committee.  During our first year in Mozambique, I went through a cultural adjustment that left me lost.  I think I had gone through my life up to that point with the ethic:  Work hard, be nice, and everything will work out.  That motto was my security.  In some ways,  it was also a part of what I had accepted as my salvation.  In Mozambique, with needs all around me, I wanted to work hard, but I didn’t know what to do, where to begin.  I had chickens in my yard, I had lizards on my walls.  I thought I was a nice guy, but I would always be an outsider, a guest, an alien living in a foreign land.  I prayed over and over to God, but nothing I did seemed to amount to anything.  It wasn’t working out.  I had no idea why I was there.  I was failing, and I sunk into what was probably the lowest period of my life.

For a time after we moved to Mozambique, children would line the hedges around our house in hopes that they could see us living our fascinating lives.  When we came outside, there they were, watching. They kept their distance, curious but a little fearful.

Enia and Rosita were the exceptions.  These two girls came into our yard and played loudly under the thatch roof hut out front.  We would go to them and try to talk with them.  But they kept their heads down.  We’d never get anything more than one-word answers to our questions.

Then, after we left, Enia and Rosita would resume their fun and start playing again.  This went on for a few weeks.  Then they stopped coming.  I forgot about them.

After we had been in Mozambique for about a year, during that low point that I had talked about, a young girl knocked on our door wanting to talk to us.  I didn’t recognize her, but she introduced herself as Enia.  She was twelve years old.  Before, she had been a shy girl who kept her head down and wouldn’t talk to us.  But now here she was — smiling, laughing, confident.

Enia came inside and told us how much it had meant to her that we allowed her to play in our yard the year before.  During that time, she said, our house was the only place where she felt safe.  She had been orphaned, and her uncle wasn’t treating her very well.  She was now living with Catholic nuns and considering becoming a nun herself.

She looked me in the eye – she looked me in the eye – and she told me that she thanked God for us.  Sometimes I hesitate to tell this story, because I realize that in and of itself it doesn’t sound particularly significant.  I can’t explain this to you, but I know that this was an encounter with God for me.  Through her words, I also heard these words from God:  “If I can bless your mindless gesture of goodwill to a child when you aren’t even paying attention, think how much more I can accomplish when you are paying attention.”  I have not “arrived” in my faith.  I’m certainly not a master in my study of God.  But I think of that point of my life as a turning point, a time when I said, “I give up, I simply want to live my life paying attention to what you, God, are doing.  I’m learning what this means and as I do so, I’m learning who God is and who I am.  I thank God for disrupting me, making me take a long, hard look at myself and seeking God where God is.

I mention this story because I think many of us struggle to make sense of our vocation or to even know what our vocation is.  When we hear a word like “vocation” in church, we tend to think of it in vague ways like ministry or “the Christian life”.  Few of us actually think about vocation as the call of the Almighty God upon our lives.  Or we think of vocation as the work of a select few like pastors or missionaries or professors or whoever.  We struggle because we think we have to be good at what we’re doing in order for it to be our vocation, our calling.  We think that we have to have the skills, the affirmation, the experience in order for it to truly be the authentic call of God upon our lives.  We think that our vocation has to be clear, out of the ordinary.

But that simply is not the message we get from the Bible.  God speaks to Moses while he’s out tending sheep.  God speaks to Moses from within the bush, and he says “I have seen the misery of my people, I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, I am concerned for their suffering.  So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to deliver them to a land flowing with milk and honey.”  And then God speaks the words that will transform Moses’ life from observer to participant:  “So now go, I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt.”

Moses had all the excuses.  “Who am I?” he says.  Remember how he described himself?  “I am an alien living in a foreign land.”  But God says, “Who are you?”  I will be with you.”  In his letter to the Philippians, Paul wrote:  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. ¹³ I can do all this through Christ who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:12-13)

But Moses said, “Who are you?”  Who am I?”  God answered.  “I am who I am”, or “I will be who I will be.”  “I am is the one sending you.”

I think that this means what our brother Hans wrote about five hundred years ago.  You can’t know God unless you are willing to participate in what God intends to do in this world.  You can only begin to discover the mystery of God by participating in what God is asking from you.  Who are you?, Moses asked   I am who I am.  I will be who I will be.  Come and find out.  I will be with you, God said.

I think of that day at Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descends on the believers like tongues of fire.  Is it any stretch to think that the presence of God in a bush that doesn’t burn now dwells within the bodies of believers in the same way.  That God speaks and calls and empowers us within our body just as God did to Moses from within the burning bush.  Is it any stretch to think that the reason why the bush in flames didn’t burn is the same reason why death holds no power over the body of Christ.  That the flame that burns within us is the steady pilot light saying all is well rather than the flickering flame that burns and destroys?

When Moses went over to the bush, God told him to take off his shoes because this is holy ground.  I believe that this, right here, is holy ground.  But I speak not of this building but because of who is present.  God is present right here, because we are here.

Sometimes we need disrupted to see that.

We will not master God.  We don’t step into the truth of God by figuring God out.  No, we find God and God’s will for us through Christ.  “The means to God is Christ.  And no one can know Christ unless one follows him in life. And no one can follow after him except as one already knows him.”

⁶ And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him. ⁷ Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.

⁸ Don’t let anyone capture you with empty philosophies and high-sounding nonsense that come from human thinking and from the spiritual powers^[a] of this world, rather than from Christ. ⁹ For in Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body.^[b] 10 So you also are complete through your union with Christ, who is the head over every ruler and authority.  (Colossians 2:6-10, NLT)

I want to begin my message this morning with three short stories that I’ve recently heard, all of them true.  All of them contain brokenness and pain to an extent that few of us have encountered, thankfully.  I want to begin this way because I think that before have anything worthwhile to say about reconciliation, we first have to acknowledge and talk honestly about the reality of brokenness.

This first story is about a man named David and a woman named Madeline.  David describes his “love” for marijuana, cocaine, and alcohol.  When he lived inLouisiana, he smuggled pounds of marijuana into his state fromAlabama.  When he lived inMiami, women prostituted themselves with his friends for cocaine.  Does this sound like a man you’d want your daughter to marry?

David married Madeline, a woman who had been physically and sexually abused by her stepfather repeatedly from age nine to age twelve.  Her stepfather threatened to kill her if she told anyone, so she kept this secret for many years, anger building and raging inside of her.  She dreamed of the day when she could take vengeance on her stepfather.  David and Madeline, united in marriage.   When we hear of a marriage like that, we are more likely to think of curse than blessing.

The second story involves a young woman named Chloe serving a one-year assignment inColoradowith Mennonite Voluntary Service, much like what Ranita did inWest Virginia.  Some of you may know this story and her family.  Last October, Chloe was riding her bicycle when she was hit from behind by a Dodge Ram pickup.  The sixteen year-old driver fled the scene, but Chloe died there.  Chloe is described as a person who loved animals, camping, working in gardens and traveling. Like her family she enjoyed music and was a budding singer and songwriter.  Can you imagine the grief for Chloe’s mother, father, sister and brother?  Can you imagine being that sixteen year-old driver, having to live with the consequences of this terrible accident for the rest of your life?

Finally, the third story comes straight from our newspapers, though it doesn’t make the headlines because it doesn’t really get readers’ attention.  It’s about the famine inKenya,Somalia, andEthiopia.  More than eleven million people have been affected by the current drought.  Already high infant mortality rates have risen three-fold.  A thousand people arrive at a refugee camp daily, weak and emaciated.  A reporter described it as a vision of hell.  Hell is a place where God is not.

Famine, grief, guilt, shame, sin, hatred.  God seems absent in events causing these emotions.  I mention these stories because the story of Joseph involves all of this and more.  Before we get to that beautiful scene of reconciliation at the end, with the brothers hugging and weeping with each other, before we celebrate the reconciliation, we have to confront the brokenness in Joseph’s story and our stories.  Because God doesn’t just appear at the end of the story, his invisible hand is in the midst of it.

And let me tell you, he couldn’t have picked a more dysfunctional family to work through.  Imagine Judah, one of Joseph’s brothers, consulting with a psychiatrist:

“Tell me about your family”, says the psychiatrist.

“Well, my father and my uncle were twins, but they didn’t get along.  In fact, for a long time, my father thought he was going to get killed by my uncle.  That’s because he stole from my uncle the right to my grandpa’s inheritance because my grandma tricked my grandpa into giving it to him.”

“Well, then my dad married my mom by mistake – he actually thought he was marrying my aunt but his uncle tricked him by pulling the ol’ bait and switch, substituting my mom for my aunt at the altar.”

“Now, just so you don’t get confused, my dad did end up marrying my aunt after he married my mother, so my aunt is also my step-mom, and my cousins are also my half-brothers.  My aunt didn’t like my mom because she wanted to have children like my mom.  That’s the reason why my aunt, who is my stepmother, had my dad sleep with her maid and then why my mom had my dad sleep with her maid, too.”

“All and all, I have four brothers and one sister born from my mother.  I have seven half-brothers, born of three mothers, one of whom is also my aunt, who is also my stepmother.  Now, just so you know, it’s never been a secret that dad loved my aunt more than my mom, and so it’s no surprise that he treated my cousins, who are also my half-brothers, better than he treated us.  And that’s the reason why we dumped my cousin half-brother Joseph into the pit and sold him and his dreamcoat to those gypsy Ishmaelites.  We told my dad that Joseph was dead, and dad has been grieving his loss ever since.”

“Now, I should also mention that I have a daughter with my daughter-in-law, but it wasn’t my fault — I thought I was sleeping with a prostitute.  Other than that, my family is pretty normal.  So tell me doc, am I crazy?  Why do I feel like something is just not right?”

This family makes the Simpsons look like the Waltons.  Grief, guilt, jealousy, shame, sin, hatred, and famine.  Joseph’s reunion with his brothers takes place during seven years of famine, when Jacob sends the brothers to Egypt for food.  The story of Israel’s first family has it all.

This family had it all, including God’s invisible hand steering these terrible choices and dysfunctional relationships and tragic events toward something more, toward life and not death.  God takes the grief and the sin and the hatred and the jealousy and even famine to work out his purposes to bring reconciliation, to bring life through Joseph.

Joseph had to face the people in his life who had caused him so much pain, separation from his family and his land.  His life has not been easy.  After he was thrown into a pit, he was sold as a slave inEgypt.  Then he was wrongly accused and was thrown into prison for several years.  Yes, after interpreting dreams for the Pharaoh, he rose to the second in command of all Egypt.  But those years which Joseph spent in slavery and prison could have been the occasion for a slow burn that might have exploded into anger at the sight of his brothers.  For a while, it’s unclear what he will do when his brothers come to him for food.  The tables have turned.  He sets up his brothers, frames them for theft, and throws them in prison.  As a punishment, he claims the youngest, Benjamin as his slave.  Would they give up their brother just like they gave him up?  Joseph needed his brothers to face the truth of what they did to him.

His brothers had to face their guilt.  It was right there, at the surface.  In prison, they had no doubt why they were being punished.  They remembered what they had done and were given the opportunity to make another choice.  Judah, the one who came up with the idea of selling Joseph to the Ishmaelites, now pleads for his brother, offering himself in exchange for his brother.  His guilt led him to make another choice.

And Jacob, mired in two decades of grief, erupts with joy at the seeming resurrection of his long-lost son.  He knew grief, but he also knows life.

In our verses this morning, Joseph extends forgiveness and mercy to his brothers, telling them it was God who brought him to Egypt and allowed him to rise to power.

God is barely mentioned in these chapters, but he’s been there all along, Joseph says.

Famine, grief, guilt, addictions, shame, sin, hatred.  These are a part of the stories that I told to begin this message.  But these also are a part of our stories.

Most of us do not know famine like the people in the Horn of Africa.  But I’m willing to guess that some of us know what despair and hopelessness feels like.  Maybe now.

Most of us don’t know the throbbing grief of losing a child in a tragic accident, but we do know what it means to mourn, to grieve.  Maybe right now.

Most of us have not killed people as a result of careless mistake, but we do know guilt, and we know that our sins have consequences both for ourselves and others.  Most of us have not been involved in drug smuggling and prostitution, but some of us do know addictions, some of us struggle to withstand the power of pornography, the lure of sexual immorality.  Most of us have not experienced a hatred rising to a desire to murder, but we do know what it means to want vengeance on someone who has hurt us.

In the midst of the brokenness that we know, I encourage you to keep your eyes open to God’s hand in the midst of it.  One of my favorite verses in all of the Bible comes from Colossians, chapter 1, verses 17 to 20.  I love these verses for how Paul describes the supremacy of Christ over all things.  Just listen.

[Christ] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.  For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.  He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. 

Paul’s vision leads to this simple but unmistakable conclusion:  God’s purpose and God’s mission in this world is to make whole all that has been broken, to bring together all that has been separated, to make right all that has gone wrong, to heal and to reconcile all people with each other and with God.  This is the ministry of reconciliation.  This is God’s purpose, God’s mission, and what God is doing in Christ.  If we are in Christ, this is our purpose, this is our mission.

David and Madeline Maldonado are pastors at a Mennonite Church in Fort Myers, Florida.  Both of them spoke at the Mennonite convention inPittsburgh, and both of them testify to the salvation they found in Jesus.  “The day that I met the cross of the living Christ, my former life had to die, David said.  Madeline spoke powerfully of the day in which she met her abuser, who was before her begging for forgiveness.  The moment she had been waiting for.  She forgave him, because it was the powerful work of God, she said.  She now ministers to people who are hurting.  She said something that is very similar to what Joseph said.  “Now I realize everything that happened in my life before coming to Christ had a purpose.  “God saved me so that I would live out Christ.  Let’s live what our foundation is.”  Madeline has come to testify that God’s purpose, God’s power, is larger than our brokenness.

The family of Chloe Weaver spoke of their pain to the sixteen year old.  They told the judge and the district attorney that they hoped for restoration and reconciliation rather than incarceration or retribution.  Herm Weaver, Chloe’s father, told the accused, “I want you to have the courage to take responsibility for your life and actions, honestly and humbly.  “I want you to carry on, in some small way, the work Chloe came here to do, to make it a better world.”  The judge in the case said, “All too often I see victim’s families consumed by hate,” but the forgiveness of this family has reverberated throughout this case.

As for the famine in Sudan, I could tell you about food aid and relief.  But it continues.  It is not resolved, but this is not the will of God.

In Matthew 18, Jesus’ says, “wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”  We quote these verses to encourage us when only two or three show up for prayer.  But Jesus was talking about the ministry of reconciliation.  This is where Jesus is at because this is where God is at.

That’s a good place to be.

“Grace and peace to you through God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”  I often begin my sermons with this simple greeting.  I do this to remind both you and myself about why we gather on Sunday mornings and what we intend to communicate.  When I preach, my prayer is that whatever words I say after this initial greeting will extend and not restrain the grace and peace that is ours in Jesus.

These words also reflect my “heart prayer” for Springdale Mennonite Church:  Through the Holy Spirit, I pray that we will grow as a community of Christ’s disciples, receiving and extending God’s grace and peace both to each other and to our neighbors near and far.

At this time, I sense that God is calling us to fervently seek the Holy Spirit so that we can more intentionally live into God’s desire and power for our ministry and mission.  My reason for writing this letter is to inform you and encourage you to participate in different opportunities over the next few months that can help us grow as a community of disciples. 

The Nehemiah Journey.  In the next few months, we will begin a discernment process that I am calling “The Nehemiah Journey.”  A sermon series centered on Nehemiah will begin in September.   Led by the Covenant Team, the Nehemiah Journey is a building project but without either a capital campaign or the goal of a finished physical structure.  Instead, we will be focusing on God’s architecture and God’s plans for our community of faith.

These are just some of the questions that we will be asking:  What are Springdale’s greatest strengths?  What resources do we have that would benefit our community?  Where should we be focusing our energy?  Where is God already at work in our community?  What dreams do you have for our life together?

During our Sunday morning worship services on September 11 and September 18 (and at other times), you will be invited to reflect on questions like these.  The goal is for everyone – everyone – to help identify the building materials that God already has given us and the building plans that God has designed for our future.  Our worship services on September 11 and 18 will begin at 9:15 a.m. in order to allow as much time as possible for the discussion that will follow.  The Covenant Team will provide more information in the weeks ahead about what will happen during these Sundays.

Perspectives on the World Christian Movement.  Eastern Mennonite Seminary will be hosting a class this fall called “Perspectives on the World Christian Movement.”  Using Scripture as a guide, the course explores God’s vision, mission, and call for followers of Jesus “to make disciples of all nations.”   Springdale is a sponsoring congregation for this class, and Dick Alderfer completed the course last fall.  Mission Commission is promoting this class to Springdale (more information to follow), and I highly encourage you to consider participating.  For more information, talk to Dick Alderfer or click on this link.

A Missional Vision and Purposeful Plan for Mennonite Church USA.  During our worship service last Sunday, I mentioned the “Purposeful Plan” that was discussed during delegate sessions at the Mennonite convention in Pittsburgh.  (Click here to read this document).  I am convinced that this plan provides our church with a Spirit-led roadmap into an uncertain future.  It strikes me that Springdale Mennonite reflects in microcosm both the positive developments and the challenges that MC USA is facing as a denomination.  I encourage you to read this plan and to ask how we as a congregation might actively work in our local setting towards what our denomination is doing more widely.  You can find the document by clicking on this link or by borrowing a copy placed in our church library.  I’d be interested in receiving your reflections on this document in general and the question that I posed above.

Most of all, I encourage you to lift up our congregation in prayer — daily and fervently.  I’d be interested in hearing about your “heart prayer” for Springdale.  I’d also be interested in receiving your comments on any of the above either on this blog, by email, or in person.

As we discover and dream together, may we first seek God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness.  Then and there, we will find God’s plans and God’s hope for our future.

Grace and peace, Mark

Although there certainly are diverse viewpoints among individual Mennonites today, we continue to advocate for the strict separation of church and state. Most Mennonite churches do not have flags inside them, and many Mennonites are uncomfortable with the ritual embedded in the singing of the national anthem.

That’s because we recognize only one Christian nation, the church, the holy nation that is bound together by a living faith in Jesus rather than by man-made, blood-soaked borders.

To Mennonites, a living faith in Jesus means faithfully living the way of Jesus. Jesus called his disciples to love their enemies and he loved his enemies all the way to the cross and beyond. Following Jesus and the martyrs before us, we testify with our lives that freedom is not a right that is granted or defended with rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air. True freedom is given by God, and it is indeed not free. It comes with a cost, and it looks like a cross.

http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/06/26/my-faith-why-i-dont-sing-the-star-spangled-banner/?iref=obnetwork

[This is a sermon in the form of a letter to my daughter, Norah (age 6)  – with her permission, of course!]

Dear Norah:

A while back, when you were still small, mom and I were tucking you into bed when you asked us to explain the meanings of past, present, and future.  I don’t know why that was on your mind.  Sometimes, I think you ask us questions at night just because you don’t really want to go to sleep!

We told you that the past was yesterday, something that has already happened; the present is today, something that is happening right now; and the future will be tomorrow, something that will happen.

We try to answer your questions as best as we can, but you have a way of reminding us how much we still have to learn.  Because we told you that the future was tomorrow, you woke up the next morning and thought we were in the future!   You were disappointed when we told you that it was still the present.  You were even more disappointed when we told you that the future would always be “tomorrow.”  “Then when will it ever be the future?” you asked us.  “How will we know?” 

“When will it ever be the future?”  “How will we know?”  Those are great questions, and I love it that you asked them.  You really make me think – sometimes I think my head will explode!  The more that I’ve thought about those questions, the more that I’ve come to understand how important it is to be more careful with my answers.  That’s because I believe that my life, and your life, and the lives of our families, and friends, and neighbors depend on how we answer those two questions.  I’ll try to explain as best as I can.

Do you remember how disappointed you were when you woke up in the morning and it still wasn’t the future?  Well, you’re not alone.   Some people spend their whole lives preparing and working and hoping for futures that never come.  Sometimes, they say, “Well, if I can just get that job, then my life will get better. ” Or, “If I can just get through this year, then I’ll have more time to relax, then I’ll take time to just be with my family.” “If I could just take a vacation, then I’ll feel rested.”  “If I could just get more money, a better house, a reliable car with a radio that works, then I will be satisfied, then I won’t worry so much, then I’ll have the future that I want.”

Sometimes, we adults think that the futures we want will come — once we finish high school, once we graduate from college, once we get a job, once we get married, once we have children, once our children get out of diapers, once our children finish school, once our children get out of debt; once we retire, once we have grandchildren, and on and on.  And yet, when those things happen, we can end up feeling just like you did when you woke up that morning — disappointed that the future we were waiting for and hoping for never came.  Sometimes, the futures that people want are always beyond their reach. They’re never satisfied, never at rest, never really happy.  That’s sad, isn’t it?

“When will it ever be the future?” “How will we know?”  Those were your questions, and I think I have a better answer for you now.  I know how much you like stories so I’d like to tell you one.  This is a true story, and it comes from the Bible.

A long time ago, before you were born, before I was born, and even before Grandma Leah was born, there was a group of people who lived in Egypt. They had lived in Egypt for many years, but they were not Egyptians.  They came from a different country.  They were slaves.  That means they were treated a lot like work animals, kind of like the horses you see in Ohio pulling ploughs in the fields and buggies on the roads.

Like animals, these people were given food to eat, and a place to stay, but they had little choice about where they lived and what they did.  They were not treated as people should be treated.  They were not even treated as animals should be treated.  They were forced to work very, very hard, even when they got tired and even when they didn’t feel well.  They got punished if they didn’t work.  It was a hard life, and they cried to God.

They hoped that in the future they could be treated more like people, not animals.  They hoped for a time when they wouldn’t have to live and to work for people who treated them badly.  They hoped for a future in a better place, when they could live with God and serve God.  They wanted to be loved, to feel like people, not animals.  They wanted to love God in peace.

Well, God heard their cries, and he helped them to escape from Egypt.  That’s a story that you know well, I know.  That was when God parted the waters of the Red Sea, and Moses led those slaves right on through, with walls of water on each side of them.  After they were safe on the other side, God then closed the waters so the Egyptians couldn’t capture them and make them slaves again.   When they crossed over safely to the other side, they were no longer Egyptian slaves.  They were now God’s people!  They were free to serve God and to worship him in peace.

The future that they had prayed for had come, but God promised them even more.  God told them that he would give them their own land, but they just had to follow God’s way to get there.

And do you know how God showed them the way?  During the day, God went ahead of them in a huge cloud that looked like a pillar.  I imagine it kind of looked like tornado – but without the winds that destroy everything.  At night, God led them by a pillar of fire.  This was how they knew that they were on the right track.  They had to follow the cloud by day and the fire by night.  That’s where God’s presence was, right in front.

But you know what?  Even though God led them through the wilderness and was caring for them, they still were afraid.  They were so used to being slaves that they had a hard time being God’s children.  That caused them to disobey God.  They still dreamed about a better future – even after God had led them into the land that he had promised them.  They wanted to make things better for themselves, but they wound up being just like the slaves they were before.  And so they were taken away to live in a foreign country.   They cried out to God again.  “Oh God,” they asked, “When will it ever be the future?” “How will we know?”

The disciples asked Jesus those questions, too.  You see, in Jesus, they saw the future.  Jesus healed the sick.  He forgave sins.  He fed the hungry and gave water to the thirsty.  He was a friend to people who had very few friends.  And he could see deep inside people’s hearts and still love them – loved them for who they were, not for what they looked like or how they worked or what other people thought of them.  When would this future be shared with everyone? the disciples asked.  When would all the pain and crying go away?

Jesus told them two things:  First, he told them that he would die, but after three days he would come back to life.  That happened.  That’s what we celebrated on Easter Sunday, when Jesus came out of the tomb.  But Jesus also told them to wait, because the Holy Spirit would come over them and fill them.  That happened too – we call that Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came.  Because of Jesus’ resurrection and the Holy Spirit, Jesus’ followers knew that they were living in the future.

Now, the Holy Spirit can be a little tough to understand.  That’s why I told you that story about those slaves in Egypt.  Do you remember how God led the slaves to the Promised Land by the pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night?  God didn’t send the cloud and send the fire, he was actually in the cloud and in the fire  — he was actually there with them, leading them out in front, showing them the way forward.

The gift of the Holy Spirit is kind of like that pillar of fire and pillar of cloud.  The Holy Spirit is God’s way of showing his people where he wants them to go.  By the Holy Spirit, God leads his people forward into a future that will be better than anything that we could ask or imagine.  And just like the pillar of fire and the pillar of cloud, the Holy Spirit is God’s way of telling people that their future is here, but not completely.  There still is a ways to go.

But the Holy Spirit is even better than the pillar of fire and the pillar of cloud!  Instead of going before us, God chose to put his presence within us.  That’s the Holy Spirit – the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire living inside of people!  Think about that!  It’s hard to believe isn’t it?  The Holy Spirit is God’s gift that he puts inside of us to show us and others that the future has come and that there is yet more to come.

Remember when you woke up that morning, and we told you that it was still the present and that the future would always be tomorrow. We were wrong, and you were right!  The future that everyone has been waiting for is here.  Through Jesus and the Holy Spirit, the future is a part of the present.  Now is the time of God’s favor.  Now is the time of salvation.

But it kind of seems the same doesn’t it?  When I was your age, I used to imagine what it would be like in the future.  I thought I’d have a personal jet pack to fly everywhere by now, and I’m disappointed that this hasn’t happened — yet.  I still hope for a jet pack sometimes, but I’m also learning to put my hopes in the future that God has promised, not in the future that I want.  God has promised the reconciliation of all things.

Reconciliation is a big word, I know, but it simply means the time when everything and everyone will be healthy.  At peace with themselves, each other, and with God.  When there will be no more wars, no more suffering, no more pain, no more hunger, no more homelessness.  The rivers won’t be polluted.  When all things will be made right.

I know that you know that that hasn’t happened yet completely, but I want you to see what I see.  We know that it’s the future when we see people becoming who God desires them to be and doing what God desires them to do.  That is evidence of the Holy Spirit in them.

God tells us that in the future, people who are enemies will not fight.  Well, there are people right now who refuse to fight, even with their enemies.  They go into places of conflict and try to reconcile enemies with each other.  And they also try to forgive people who hurt them.  Sometimes, they get hurt – but they remind me that we live in the future.

God tells us that in the future, people will have enough to eat and to drink.  Well, there are people right now who give up what they have so that others can eat and drink.  Sometimes, that means that they will have to rely on others to help them when they need something – but they remind me that we live in the future.

God tells us that, in the future, there will be justice.  That means that the rich will not use their money to make sure the poor stay poor.  That means that the strong will not use their strength to hurt people who are weak.  That means everyone will be treated fairly and with dignity.  Well, there are people right now who seek out the poorest of the poor and live with them as friends. That isn’t easy, because they also share in their sufferings – but that is a sign of the future.

God tells us that, in the future, the sick will be healed.  Well, there are people right now who work to heal people – to heal people of their diseases but also to heal them from all the sick ways that they think about themselves.  That is a sign of the future.

The church is made up of people who come from the future.  No, we don’t have jet packs or special powers, we are simply normal people who say that God’s future has come and is coming.   When we hope for and work for God’s future, we will not be disappointed – that’s because it’s here, just not here completely.   We need reminded that God’s future has come for us, and we are to live as future people right now.  People need to see the future in us, and we need reminded to look for God’s future in others and to invite them to be a part of it.  We need reminded to ask for the Holy Spirit  – God’s future living in us!

Thankfully, we don’t have to wait, wait, wait, always disappointed because the future isn’t here.  If we learn to want the future that God wants  – full of justice, peace, love, faith, and reconcilation – then we will see God’s future breaking out all around us.

And so, tomorrow morning, when you wake up, I want you to come downstairs and tell me that it’s the future.  Remind me that I was wrong and that you were right.  Tell me that we all live in the future, and that today is a part of God’s future.  Tell me to live today as if it’s God’s tomorrow.  Tell me to look for God’s new creation in the people I meet.  Tell me to ask for God’s present of the future, the Holy Spirit.

Tell me it’s the future.  And this time, I’ll believe you.

Now get to sleep.

Love,

Dad

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!

The one who was dead is now alive,
that was our message on Easter Sunday
and that is our message every Sunday.
In a world captivated with death,
we proclaim the gospel of life.

Jesus shared in our humanity,
in order to destroy the one who holds the power of death,
that is, the devil – and to free those
who are held in slavery by their fear of death.  (Hebrews 2:14-15)

I couldn’t help but think of our Easter Sunday celebration two weeks ago,
when I witnessed the celebration that began last Sunday evening.
This celebration continued throughout the week and goes on today.
It’s the opposite of Easter — it’s Bizarro Easter.
It’s a celebration of death, not life,
and it carries it’s own message:

Our enemy is dead!
He is dead indeed!

This was the “good news” that President Obama proclaimed last Sunday evening,
and this is how it’s celebrated:
we spontaneously cheer at a baseball game at the news of his death;
we dance in the streets outside the White House happy about his death;
we sing anthems and deliver speeches giving meaning to his death,
we hail the nation and its heroes who delivered us his death;
we declare that justice has been served with death;
we tell our friends the news, we contact our family with the news,
we post on Facebook the news –
the news of our enemy’s death;
we search out articles to read about the details of his death.
And like bizarro Doubting Thomases,
we clamor to view our enemy’s wounds
just to make sure that he’s really dead.
Can’t we see the video, or at least some bloody photos,
to prove that the one who once was alive is now dead?

Because he died, we can face tomorrow.
Because he died, our fear is gone.
Because we know he threatened our future,
life is safe for living just because he died.

Does this disturb you?  I hope so.
I understand that the death that sparked these Bizarro Easter celebrations
was of a person who sowed hatred and suffering and death
to many, many people during his life.
I am glad that he will not be able to continue to work towards those evil ends.
But as followers of a Messiah who died for his enemies,
there is no nuance that depends upon the evil actions of our enemies.

The answer to evil is found in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
For followers of Jesus, death is not a cause for celebration;
it’s a reminder to seek out the God who created us for life,
redeemed us for life, and sustains us for life.
Rejoicing in death is the opposite of Easter.
It’s anti-Christ.

Thankfully, the world has not been left with a succession of Bizarro Easters,
celebrating the deaths of evil people until the next one takes his place.
Jesus reigns victorious over the death-dealing forces of evil.
His kingdom has come, is coming, and will come.
Through the Holy Spirit,
God has called us to life for life,
celebrating and proclaiming and living the good news of Easter.

May God’s kingdom come,
God’s will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.