05-09-2021 God's Testament of Love

Rev. Jay Rowland

1 John 5:1-6 and John 15:9-17

God’s Testament of Love

We are all generally accustomed to dividing the Bible into the Old and New Testaments. It’s been a sort of natural way to distinguish between the part of the Bible that predates Jesus and the part of the Bible which presents Jesus as the promised Messiah.

Unfortunately, over the centuries this distinction has led some to interpret New Testament to mean Better or Best Testament, and to devalue the First Testament (aka “Old”) which Jesus himself cherished, studied, interpreted, and taught.

Jesus would never have conceived of anything called The New Testament.

Generally speaking, it seems to me that the Bible is essentially God’s Testament or Covenant (the word “testament” means covenant) in two parts. Each part or testament can be summed up using one definitive word concerning God and God’s doings: love.

Both Scripture readings today explicitly associate love with God. God is best known and understood in terms of love. And I know we all know this, and to say it and hear myself say it, it’s like, duh. Furthermore, modern culture and entertainment has so thoroughly diluted love by making it all about romantic love, and conditional love, that we easily lose the personal power, meaning and depth of the love that IS GOD.

Even so, whenever we may have felt or known what it feels to be unconditionally loved, however we may have experienced unconditional love, only then might we begin to comprehend and fathom the depth of God’s love for us.

…. when it comes to God’s love for us, there’s a verse in John’s gospel reading today which stands out, the one in which Jesus says,

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

Jesus set aside his divinity, his life, his bodily and all senses of comfort—mental comfort, spiritual comfort, religious comfort as well as bodily safety and security for you and for me. It wasn’t taken from him. It wasn’t forced from him. He wasn’t a victim. Rather, he laid down his life … willingly … to demonstrate how far he was willing to go for love of you.

Some may think or argue, “well not literally for me, because I wasn’t alive when he did all that ... so that’s nice and all, but …”

And, well, that’s what makes it even more astounding.

Perhaps we’ve read about or seen situations in which people have laid down their life for a “stranger” … such as people have done who serve in the military, first responders, especially during the 9/11 attacks, and people here or there along the way who rushed into mortal danger out of a powerful love for human life. And that right there gives us a better sense of the love that is God … and that God introduces to the world through Jesus Christ.

Jesus willingly lay down his life to show that even when worldly forces come together to do whatever they want and hurt and destroy whoever they want, so that we might realize when it there appears to be yet another situation where some would comment, well, that’s just how life goes sometimes ... Jesus willingly lays down his life to prove that God can and will intervene at that precise moment when you’re convinced otherwise.

Jesus allowed worldly forces and hatreds to hunt him down, hurt him, beat him, ridicule him, put him on trial and convict him, then publicly shame and humiliate him and ultimately destroy him. He did this to show us the power of LOVE … God the Creator of Life, Jesus the Giver of Life and the Holy Spirit the breath of life has final and ultimate authority over what happens to our life--the life God created, the breath that God breathes in us. … so that if or when any such devastation comes upon us, and all seems lost, we shall not be lost. We shall rise with Him.

No greater love.

There is no greater love than the love of Jesus for you … he lay down his life for you.

That’s the Love that has claimed you from the time you breathed your first breath …. until you breathe your last and wake up breathing new life in the Kingdom of God.

That’s the love that defines your life and your death.

This attempt of mine to describe this indescribable power and mystery of life, this Jesus, with my written and spoken words is feeble. There is a song that I hope and prayed might convey the sense of this love better than my spoken words. It’s called The Face of Love*, written and recorded years ago by the group Sanctus Real. It’s better than what you’ll hear from me and I highly recommend it when you’re in need of assurance regarding the Love that will not let you go, shining in the Face of Jesus:

I’ve seen your face on stained glass,

in colored lights

in pictures of you looking to the sky ...

You’ve been portrayed

a thousand different ways

But my heart can see you

better than my eyes

‘Cause it’s love that paints

the portrait of your life

The face of love … The face of love:

You look more like love every day

I’ve read your words

in pages of your life

And I’ve imagined

what you were like

And I may not know

the shape of your face

But I can feel your heart changing mine

Your love still proves

that you’re alive

The face of love

The face of love

You look more like love every day...

The face of love

The face of love

You look more like love every day...

And you are the face

that changed the whole world

no one too lost for you to love

no one too low for you to serve

So give us the grace

to change the world

No one too lost for me to love

No one too low for me to serve

Oh Let us see

Let us be your face

Let us be your face.

The face of love; The face of love

You look more like love every day

The face of love;

The face of love

you look more like … love

… more like

… LOVE

* The Face of Love, ℗ 2006 Sparrow Records. Producer: Christopher Stevens

Composer/Lyricist: Matt Hammitt, Chris Rohman, Mark Graalman, Dan Gartley, Christopher Stevens. Released on: 2006-01-01

05-02-2021 An Accidental Encounter, or a Divine Appointment?

Thomas J Parlette
“An Accidental Encounter, or a Divine Appointment?”
Acts 8:26-40
5/2/21

        If you can remember back to the days when you read plays in high school English class, you’ll recall that every play begins with a list of the cast of characters, usually in order of appearance. If you were reading a classic play, like Shakespeare, it may have said “Dramatis Personae.” If we were to do that for this morning’s scripture passage from Acts, we would list four characters – Angel of the Lord, Phillip, the Ethiopian Eunuch and the Holy Spirit. They all play a role in today’s story.
        It all begins with an angelic visit, a vision perhaps, that sends Phillip to a remote stretch of road south of Jerusalem that leads to Gaza.
        There he meets our next character, the Ethiopian Eunuch. We don’t have much in the way of specific details, but we do have some things to build on. He was a eunuch, of course. He is from Ethiopia. He is in the Gaza strip. He was at least a “God-fearer,” as those who were not full-fledged Jews, but still worshipped Yahweh were called. And we know he had come to worship in the Jerusalem Temple, and was on his way home. We also know he held a pretty powerful and important position – he was “a court official of the Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury.”
        This important detail gives us a window into what this Ethiopian eunuch life must have been like. He was an outsider working in the royal court. We’ve all seen enough of shows like Downton Abbey and The Crown to know that life in these aristocratic settings can be filled with intrigue, treachery, gossiping and scheming.
        Walter Brueggemann notes that it is not an overreach to conclude that “this eunuch lived in a world of fear, innuendo, competition and gossip, a collage of rivals always at the edge of violence, with no reliable support beyond the cleverness of his work. The life of a Jewish eunuch in a royal court was quite dispensable. He longed for a better life – a life free of fear.”(1)
        When we meet the Ethiopian eunuch he is riding along in his chariot, a symbol of his status. He is reading aloud, as was the custom in that day, from a scroll he had probably purchased in Jerusalem. So we know he is also an educated man. The words are from Isiah 53, one of the suffering servant passages. He could read the words just fine – but he didn’t understand what it meant:
        “Like a sheep, he was led to the slaughter
        And like a lamb is silent before the shearer
        So he does not open his mouth.
        In his humiliation justice was denied him…
        His life is taken away.”
       Considering his station in life, he could understand that feeling. He knew that life was cheap. He knew about justice denied. He lived with it every day. But who was Isaiah talking about?
        As Brueggemann says, this eunuch “read and lived in hope for a world other than the world of demand and intimidation and risk in which he lived.”(2)
        And then this seemingly accidental encounter turns into a  divine appointment. Phillip steps onto the stage and hops into the chariot.
        “Do you understand what you are reading?”
        “No – not at all. Explain it to me.”
        We don’t know exactly what Phillip told him – but you’ve gotta figure he hit the high points. He told him about the miracles and the healings. He told him about God – who so loved the world. He told him that Jesus had just one rule – Love. Love God and love others. He told him that those in power were threatened by his teaching about this kind of Kingdom, one built on love instead of power. And for that – Jesus died. But ultimately God won – because Jesus was raised from the dead and sits at the right hand of God. In the end – love triumphs.
        Ah, this is the hope that the eunuch is yearning for. He thinks to himself – I want to live in that world!
        So he asks, “What is to stop me from being baptized?”- assuming that since he was a eunuch, perhaps he couldn’t be a full-fledged follower of Jesus. For in Deuteronomy it says that “no one who is sexually mutilated shall be admitted to the assembly of the Lord.” Having just been to the Temple in Jerusalem, and having been denied admittance, he knew this full well. But in chapter 56, Isaiah promises that “eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths will be welcome in the house of God and will receive a name better than sons and daughters.” So which is it. The Eunuch needed to hear from Phillip – can I be baptized or not?
        And Phillip answers “Certainly, let’s do it.”
        And the eunuch is baptized.
        And then we meet the fourth and final character in our drama – the Spirit of the Lord steps in and snatches Phillip away, and the eunuch gets back in his chariot, filled with hope and joy upon his inclusion in the Kingdom of God. He need not live his life in fear anymore, for He is a child of God.
        Tom Long points out that part of the reason the eunuch asks the questions he does is because he is wondering if this word from Isaiah is a word from God for him personally or not. Am I included, he wonders, or is this word for someone else(3)
        Most of us approach the Bible with that same question. Is this a word for me, for us, for our day and our time – or is it just for the people “back then.”
        When we consider the passage from Isaiah that the eunuch was reading, it’s not hard to see modern connection to people who have been silenced in the presence of the powerful. Humiliation is something we see too much of. Justice denied – it still happens all too often. Life taken away – we seem to see it every week. It’s not hard to empathize with the eunuch’s sense of fear. So yes – this is a word for us, in our day and in our time.
        In his 2014 book Pay Any Price, James Risen considers the role of fear in our world. He writes:
        “A decade of fear-mongering has brought power and wealth to those who have been the most skillful at hyping the terrorist threat. Fear sells. Fear has convinced the White House and Congress to pour hundreds of billions of dollars – more money than anyone knows what to do with – into counter-terrorism and home land security programs, often with little management or oversight, and often to the detriment of the Americans they are supposed to protect. Fear is hard to question. It is central to the financial well-being of countless federal bureaucrats, contractors, sub-contractors, consultants, analysts and pundits. Fear generates funds… Meanwhile counterterrorism experts, many with lucrative government contracts or consulting deals with television news networks – in short, with an incentive to generate public fear and foreboding – had joined forces with zealous anti-immigration advocates to warn that the Canadian border was a dangerously unsecured back door.”
        And then Risen adds: “They have built a cottage industry out of fear.”(4)
        The threats may change, but fear still sells. Fear still raises funding.
        Walter Brueggemann reminds us that “We are all seduced to dwell, along with the eunuch, in that cottage of fear… Fear makes us selfish and self-preoccupied. Fear makes us do crazy destructive things. Fear turns neighbors into competitors and threats and enemies.”(5)
        Fear drives us to focus on building walls and cutting ourselves off from the world. Fear drives us to close our eyes and turn our backs on the suffering and injustice all around us.
        Well, the eunuch had had enough of that world. He wanted to live in the kind of world that Phillip described; a world filled with the kind of love that John talked about in our passage from 1st John today – the perfect love that casts out fear.
        In his baptism, the Ethiopian eunuch was freed from his life of fear and welcomed into a life of love. He is no longer an outcast – he is now a child of God.
        And so are we.
        All through the Book of Acts, we see the circle of God’s love getting bigger and bigger. The Good News of God’s love, forgiveness and mercy extends beyond Jerusalem, beyond Judaism itself, and spread throughout the world, reaching the Gentile world as well as those who have been exiled and outcast.
        This accidental encounter turns into a divine appointment to demonstrate to us the wideness of God’s mercy, then and now.
        So let us gather at the table today my friends and celebrate the perfect love that casts our fear and gives us a seat at the banquet of God’s love and mercy.
        May God be praised. Amen.

1.   Walter Brueggemann, “Diving In and Casting Out”, The Collected Sermons of Walter Brueggemann, Volume 3, Westminster John Know Press, 2020, p139.
2.   Ibid… p139.
3.   Thomas Long, Feasting on the Word, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p456.
4.   Brueggemann… p141.
5.   Ibid… p141.

04-25-2021 The Cardiac Signature of a Christian

Thomas J Parlette
“The Cardiac Signature of a Christian”
1 John 3: 16-24
4/25/21

        We all know that there are certain physical characteristics that are totally unique to each individual. Your fingerprints, for example, are entirely unique – no one else has fingerprints exactly like yours. The pattern of your iris, the colored part of your eye, is also, totally your own. So is your DNA. But did you know that your heartbeat is completely unique as well? Every person on earth has a different heartbeat pattern, or “cardiac signature.” Your cardiac signature cannot be altered or disguised. So, if someone can measure your “cardiac signature,” they can identify you, even in a big crowd of people.

        In fact, according to an article in Technology Review, the Pentagon has built a laser that can identify people by their heartbeat from 600 feet away.(1) Sounds like something out of an Avengers movie – but it exists. There are positive uses for this technology, of course. Doctors could monitor your heart health from far away. This laser could also be used to track criminals or terrorists from long distances. But, again, for those of us concerned with privacy and civil liberties, the thought is a little disconcerting.

        Did you ever imagine that your physical heartbeat – your cardiac signature – could be so distinctive? Who knew?

        In today’s scripture lesson from 1st John, we hear the wise old pastor talk about what may be the cardiac signature of a Christian. The heartbeat of the Christian is to love others with the sacrificial love of Jesus. Not a warm and fuzzy feeling. Not with good intentions or encouraging words or even thoughts and prayers alone. But with loving actions. Actions that cost us something. As verse 8 says, “Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” Talk is cheap, says John. Real love is costly.

        This passage, indeed the whole epistle, was written to encourage church people to be more loving toward one another, and to those in need. If we can’t do that, says John, then we’ve missed the very heart of the faith Jesus gave us.

        Al Lingren, a professor at Garrett Theological Seminary, once had a conversation with his teenage son. Lingren’s son asked, “Dad, what’s the toughest thing God ever tried to do?”

        Now they teach you a lot of things in Seminary. But they don’t exactly cover that question. Lingren wracked his brain for an answer, and then asked his son, “What do you think it was?”

        The boy said, “Since taking science in school, I thought the creation of the world might be the hardest thing God ever tried to do, and in Sunday School we got to talking about some of the miracles, and I thought the resurrection might be the toughest thing God ever tried to do. But after thinking about it some more, I decided the toughest thing God ever had to do is to get us to understand who God is, and that God loves us.”(2)

        That young man was onto something. The toughest thing God ever had to do was to get us to understand who God is, and that God loves us. How did God do that? First, through the Law and the Prophets. And then through coming to us in the flesh, in the person of Jesus Christ. Ultimately, we understand that God loves us because Jesus died on the cross and rose again from the dead to save us from sin and death.

        John knew that if he didn’t make it perfectly clear what Christian love looks like, we would try to define it for ourselves. But he doesn’t give us that option. In verse 16, he writes, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.”

        The essence of the Christian faith is love – it is the “cardiac signature” of the Christian.

        Many years ago, Jeffrey Collins was director of a non-profit group called Love and Action. This is an organization that ministers to AIDS patients and their families.

        Collins tells of receiving a phone call at 5:00 o’clock on a Friday afternoon as he was trying to leave the office. He had just worked a 60- hour week – he was exhausted and wanted to just ignore the phone. But he picked up anyway.

        The voice on the other end was Jimmy, a client of Love and Action. He was very sick and scared. Collins confesses that his first reaction when he answered the phone wasn’t compassion – he felt a bit of anger. He just wanted to go home and relax. He wanted a couple of hours at the end of the week when no one needed him. But Collins knew that God’s calling isn’t dependent on how we feel, but on how badly someone else needs our help. So Jeffrey Collins headed over to Jimmy’s house to check on him.

        Jimmy was on the sofa, shivering and feverish and covered in vomit. The smell was horrible. Though he was careful not to show it, Jeffrey’s anger and annoyance grew. As he knelt down and scrubbed the carpet surrounding the sofa, Jeffrey prayed an angry prayer to God.

        But then a friend of Jimmy’s named Russ came in to find Jeffery kneeling beside the sofa cleaning up after Jimmy. With an astonished look on his face, Russ said, “I understand! I understand now!”

        “What Russ?,” said Jimmy in a whisper. “What do you understand?”

        “I understand who Jesus is. He’s like Jeff!”(3)

        It isn’t always easy to love. We tend to withhold love until someone passes our “approval test.” We love those who we think are deserving – which is exactly opposite of Jesus’ love. Jesus didn’t love us because we were easy to love or because we deserve it. Jesus loves us with the very love of God.

        Just as Christ laid down his life for us, so we are called to lay aside what we would like our lives to be for others. That means loving all people – even those who take advantage or misuse us, even those we might not approve of or agree with.

• Laying aside our lives, our self-interest means leaving our comfort zone from time to time for acts of extraordinary concern.

• Laying aside our self-interest means encouraging gun laws that preserve our 2nd amendment rights, while also keeping assault rifles out of the hands of people who shouldn’t have them.

• Laying aside our lives means contacting our elected representatives and officials and encouraging them to support changes in our policing standards and procedures.

• Laying aside our lives and self-interest means acknowledging it’s not safe to be anything other than white in our country – that racism is real, and it is systemic and it cannot be tolerated anymore.

All these things are expressions of love – and love is the essence of the Christian faith.

        That kind of self-giving, unselfish love is our primary witness to the word – it is our calling card. As the old song goes, “They will know we are Christians by our love.” Love is the cardiac signature of a Christian. As John puts it, “How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses to help?” And the answer is, it doesn’t.

        Frances Havergal was an English poet, pianist and hymn writer in the mid-1800’s. Her most famous hymn is probably, “Take My Life and Let it Be,” which begins with the words, “Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to thee.” In each verse, Havergal offers some part of her life for the Lord’s service. Take my voice, take my hands, take my feet, take my love. She asks God to use every part of her life to make a difference for others.

        The fourth stanza begins, “Take my silver and my gold, not a mite would I withhold.” And Frances Havergal really meant it. In her journal, she wrote about packing up a jeweled cabinet that belonged to her family, along with other ornamental pieces worth a great deal of money and sending them off to the Church Missionary Society to fund missionaries in other countries. She noted in her journal that day, “I don’t think I need to tell you I never packed a box with such great pleasure.”(4)

        She saw brothers and sisters in need, and she was determined to help. Love is our primary witness to the world.

        Love is more than just an emotion or a feeling. Love is feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and the imprisoned. Encouraging effective gun laws. Changing our policing standards and procedures, and acknowledging that racism is real and it is not something we can tolerate anymore. Love is not a passive verb, but an active one. And it is the primary way we share Christ with the world. They will know we are Christians by our love.

        Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” Pure love is not a natural attribute of humanity – it is of God. Our nature is to strive for survival, to strive for our own well-being. God’s nature is self-giving love. The closer we are to God, the better able we are to love others. As John says, “By this we know that God abides in us, by the spirit that God has given us.” And that spirit is love.

        There is an old Twilight Zone episode about a gambler who died. He wakes up in a room full of gaming tables. And no matter what game he plays, he wins. He wins every time. A gambler’s dream come true! This must be heaven!

        But as the gambler goes from table to table, winning and winning and winning – he comes to realize that he didn’t wind up in heaven after all, but in hell. He had everything he ever wanted, but he didn’t have anyone to share his winnings with.(5)

        Love is a gift God gives to us. And it is multiplied and magnified when we give it away, when we can love others with the same sacrificial love that God showed us.

        In an old cemetery in England, there is a weather-beaten tombstone for an ordinary man. He was not famous in any way. But he must have been a powerful force for good among those who knew him. Under his name and the dates of his birth and death is this simple epitaph, “In the worst of times, he did the best of things.”(6)

        In the worst of times, he did the best of things. That’s what Jesus did as well. In the face of persecution and injustice and torture and humiliation, Jesus faced his death with courage and grace, even forgiving the ones who had hung him on a cross. And he willingly suffered his awful fate to show us how far God would go to prove God’s love for us.

        John’s words still ring through the centuries – “This is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he commanded us.” When the love of God truly abides in our heart, we are able to look into the faces of others and see God’s face.

        Love is the essence of Christian faith – it is our cardiac signature. Love is our primary witness to the world. Love is a gift from God. We love because God first loved us. Only as we abide in God can God’s love abide in us.

        And if God’s love abides in us, in the worst of times, we will be able to do the best of things.

        May God be praised. Amen.

1.   Dynamic Preaching, Vol XXXVII, No 1, pg82.
2.   Ibid… pg82.
3.   Ibid… pg83.
4.   Ibid… pg84-85.
5.   Ibid… pg84.
6.   Ibid… pg84-85.

04-18-2021 Light Walkers

“Light Walkers”

1 John 1:1-2:2

3rd Sunday of Easter

What an awful week last week was. Another mass shooting, the fifth in the past 30 days, this time in Indianapolis--as yet another American citizen exercised his constitutional right to bear arms. And here in our state, as the painful images of George Floyd’s death replay during the ongoing Derek Chauvin murder trial, Daunte Wright is shot and killed during a police traffic stop. In Chicago, body-cam video surfaced of the police shooting death of 13-year-old Adam Toledo on March 29. And ...

... 2,429 new covid cases in Minnesota, and 10 more deaths.

… and if you had anything difficult happen in your own life last week, there’s that.

… and the sun refused to shine.

As I’ve pondered the events of this week, the verses from 1st John offered me some theological grounding to offset the hideous patterns of preventable death wreaking havoc in our nation. Perhaps these verses may also provide some theological motivation to engage our elected leaders and other authorities in order to bring about the long-overdue end to the ease of access to firearms and to the use of lethal force by police officers upon persons of color.

The Jesus I know from the Gospels and the New Testament compels me to speak out today. For it appears that our nation, our society, our politics and perhaps even our churches are willing to tolerate easy access to firearms and the police use of lethal force against Black and minority people. What other conclusion is there to draw? Both patterns of death have continued unabated for far too long.

Let’s consider again to the first few verses from 1st John . It describes the wonders of the Kingdom of God Jesus lived, died and was resurrected to reveal. Then, if you can, think also about the recurring pattern of mass shootings--five more in the past 30 days. And think about all the people who have been shot or injured or killed by officers sworn to protect and serve:

We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life— this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with [God] and was revealed to us— we declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with [God] and with ... Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that your joy and our joy may be complete. This is the message we have heard from [Jesus] and proclaim to you, that God is light and in (God) there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with (God) while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true;

Biblical scholar Paul W. Hoon provides fascinating insight as he unpacks the meaning of two particular words, eternal and fellowship, which are commonly spoken and heard in church:

… in Christ, the eternal has invaded history. Jesus is ... the deliberate self-revelation of the divine in the context of human life. … God was as fully present in Jesus as it is possible for God to be present in human life. (p218)

Jesus reveals to us that “Eternal” means not what is future in terms of time but what is unending and what is of the character of the life Christ lived.

‘eternal life’ ... defines the true measure of life as qualitative rather than quantitative. … (which) confronts (us) with judgment upon the kind of life we are now living. Christian faith declares not merely a resurrection after death, it insists above all on a resurrection with Christ now. … When the Christian lives in this eternal life through faith (5:13) and love (3:14), s/he becomes a source of life to others. (p.219)

Eternal life means divine and human fellowship, Hoon explains, fellowship is both the goal and the source of the proclaiming of the Christian message. Human nature is made for fellowship. … Individual religion is a contradiction in terms. Our spiritual life is inevitably mutual. … Divine-human fellowship … constitutes the true fellowship of the church and exposes by contrast cheap forms of so-called fellowship in which churches “specialize”. (p220)

[Paul W. Hoon, First, Second and Third Epistles of John, Interpreter’s Bible, Exposition section. 1957. emphases mine]

I’ve seen studies and surveys indicating that church membership is declining not because of some decline of faith in God or in Jesus Christ. On the contrary, the newer generations are just as faithful and passionate as any generation. The issue is that they see the church as either silent or permissive or in some cases openly encouraging of so many of society’s long-standing ills which cause so much preventable suffering, such as racism, homophobia, immigration, LGBTQ rights, gun control, reproductive choice, and lethal police tactics.

You don’t have to be a biblical scholar to see how Jesus in the Gospels welcomes and loves into the Kingdom of God people who are the most oppressed, the most distressed, the most abused and killed: the slave, the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the alien, the poor. In doing so, Jesus was upholding the covenant issued by God all throughout the Hebrew Bible from Genesis on.

Sin is too soft of a word to describe the continuing easy access to firearms and the use of lethal force by police against minorities. To be blunt, gun violence and lethal police force is OUR failure as citizens, as human beings, but above all as followers of Jesus Christ. When I say “we” and “our” I include myself.

Where is our OUTRAGE?

Please understand that I am not anti-police. Police reforms are necessary not only because Black Lives Matter but because Blue Lives Matter too. The epidemic of gun violence and lethal police force is just as destructive and ruinous to the lives of police officers. Our “blue” brothers and sisters are so vulnerable. And they are also suffering. A line was crossed many years ago and now the de-facto status quo is that police are authorized to oppress and murder our Black, Brown and Rainbow-colored brothers and sisters. This must end. I believe that as people of faith we can and we must come together to create pressure and agitate for change. Change which benefits all communities: black, brown, and blue.

These conditions and patterns are untenable and unsustainable.

How long do we expect people of color to tolerate this carnage of unnecessary lethal force by police officers whose duty is to protect and serve all citizens? What will it take for us as a community of faith to stand up for all involved--for black, for brown, and blue too?!

Our nation cannot survive the unlimited access to military-grade firearms. How in God's name did we ever come to tolerate this slaughter of innocents? Owning firearms is NOT a right, it’s a privilege--one which can and should have limits. But hear me out:

I’m not talking about gun owners who are responsible and law abiding.

I’m not talking about people who love to hunt.

I’m not talking about people who want to own or carry a handgun for their own security.

I’m talking about assault weapons. No human being let alone US citizen has a right to own assault weapons. But in our nation seemingly ANYONE can own numerous assault weapons--firepower invented and intended for combat, war, the battlefield. Not for domestic life.

Until we are willing to do whatever it takes to pressure our elected representatives and other civil authorities, until they FEEL our absolute RESOLVE to reform gun laws and police conduct, until we find ways to register our DISGUST and OUTRAGE over this continuing abdication of justice and sensible legislation, nothing will change and people will continue to die preventable deaths.

If we say that we have fellowship with God while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true …

We are walking in darkness.

But we are called by God through the Resurrection of Jesus Christ to walk in the light. The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is not only about what happens after we die. It’s also passionately about Life. Right. Now.

but if we walk in the light as God is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.

The Biblical prophets dared to speak truth to power because they answered to a higher authority than earthly powers. Like the prophets before us, we must do whatever we can to represent the fierce love and the compassion of the Lord our God—each in our own way, and trust that no effort is insignificant; any energy we devote and every prayer we offer will help carry us all to a new day!

I wondered if I should even speak as my conscience was calling me to do today. I know I’m “preaching to the choir,” as the saying goes; we are a compassionate and caring congregation. We are engaged and involved in social justice. I’m not criticizing anyone. It’s just that as a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ my silence from the preaching pulpit felt dishonest and disingenuous. I don’t have the influence of a Political Action Committee or the connections of a lobbyist, nor the skill-set of a community organizer. But I do have a platform, a responsibility and a conscience—as well as ordination vows—all of which compel me to at least speak up and speak out today. And I hope this, along with TJ’s invitation in his weekly e-mail newsletter this past week, asking for your thoughts and ideas is a hopeful way to build momentum.

It’s not so much about figuring out what do we do now? The point is that anything we do will empower us to be more than observers on the sideline while this carnage continues to devour more vulnerable people.

Anything to prevent any more weeks like last week.

I honestly don’t know what we can do as a community of faith. There’s so many viewpoints and many moving parts. But I truly believe we can start talking and listening, create some momentum, spiritual energy the Lord can and will use. I don’t have a master plan or prescription. All I know is that what’s been happening is an open assault upon the kingdom of God that Jesus lived and died and was resurrected to reveal to us.

Let’s pray and talk and think about how we as a congregation can make a difference.

Let us walk in darkness no more.

Let us resolve to be Light Walkers.

04-04-2021 Back to the Beginning

Thomas J Parlette
“Back to the Beginning”
Mark 16: 1-8
4/4/21, Easter

        A good ending is hard to come by.
        Movie makers know this.
        T.V. Producers know this.
        Novelists know it too.
        Even the high tech makers of videogames – the best of which are driven by compelling storylines and not just shooting enemy soldiers, throwing a touchdown pass playing as Aaron Rodgers, or diving too fast through crowded city streets – know that a good ending is easier said than done.
        A good ending answers all our lingering questions.
        A good ending ties up loose ends.
        A good ending brings everything full circle, and the world seems to make sense again.
        A good ending lets us sit back, take a deep breath and say, “Ahhhh – that was a good story. I can rest easy, for now, it is finished.”
        Which is precisely the problem with the Gospel of Mark. Mark doesn’t seem to have a good ending at all. We go to the tomb with the women early on the third day. The stone is rolled away. An angelic visitor is there inside the tomb saying, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified? He has been raised – he is not here. Look, there is the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples, and Peter, that he is going ahead of you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.”
        So the women went out – and fled. They ran away. They were terrified. And they didn’t say anything to anyone. Because they were afraid.
        And that’s how Mark ends the story. Most bibles have a shorter and loner ending included – but those were probably tacked on many years later by well-meaning scribes who just couldn’t live with the ending Mark came up with.
        The other Gospel writers seem to do a better job with their endings. I think Matthew has a very effective ending. Matthew gives us real closure. He has the risen Christ appearing to his disciples and as he is ascending into the clouds, Jesus gives them the Great Commission – “Go and make disciples of all nations…” Good ending. Hollywood would be proud.
        Luke sort of gives us an ending. He tells the wonderful story of Jesus appearing to his disciples on the road to Emmaus, but then he just keeps going with his story and writes a whole other book, the Acts of the Apostles. The one thing you can say about Luke though – he made sure to tell the whole story, he didn’t leave any loose ends.
        The Gospel of John, not surprisingly, is different from the others. It seems like John just can’t bear the thought of ending his story. He keeps adding on story after story. He tells about the disciples going back to fishing, and about the picnic on the beach and Jesus command to feed my sheep. In John, the story keeps going and going and going.
        But Mark, most scholars agree, ended his story abruptly at verse 8 – “The women said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.”
        Very bleak. Very incomplete. I’m sure his first audience probably sat there asking, “Is that it? Is that all there is?” When you read the Gospel of Mark it’s very hard to sit back and say, “Ahhh, it is finished.”
        And maybe that’s exactly what Mark wants. The editorial cartoonist Thomas Nast once gave a public exhibition of his skill as an artist. He took a canvas 6 feet long and 2 feet wide and he placed it horizontally on an easel up on a stage so his audience could see him work. He began sketching out a landscape. A lovely green meadow appeared with rolling hills, herds of sheep, fields of grain, and a farmhouse and an orchard appeared with a bright blue sky and fleecy white clouds overhead. Gorgeous.
        Finally, it appeared no finishing touch was needed, and the artist stood aside, with brush still in hand to accept the hearty applause of his audience.
        When the applause subsided, Nast stepped back up to the canvas, dipped his brush into some darker colors, and began applying them recklessly, almost violently, to his beautiful picture. Out went the cheery blue sky and the fluffy white clouds. “Did you ever see a picture like this?” he asked as he blotted out the meadows, fields, sheep and orchard. Up, down, across he went until the landscape was totally obliterated. It looked like a big, dark mess.
        Then with a twinkle in his eye, Nash stepped aside again, and laying down his brush, he said, “It is finished.” But no applause came this time. The audience was confused – they didn’t know what to make of this. Then Nast asked his stage crew to place a gilded, golden frame around his apparently ruined work of art, and turn it up so it stood in a vertical position.
        And the mystery was revealed. There before their eyes, the audience could now see a picture of a beautiful waterfall, with the water plunging over a cliff of dark rock into a pool below, surrounded by trees and bushes. And of course, the audience burst into applause.
        The people in the audience thought the picture was finished. They saw what they thought was a good ending. But the artist had something else in mind. When Nast turned his picture on its head, a completely new image emerged.
        Mark seems to do the same thing with his Gospel. He turns it on its head and gives us something completely different than what we thought. Mark doesn’t want to leave us in the garden outside an empty tomb. He doesn’t want to drop us off behind closed doors in an upper room. In fact, Mark doesn’t want to leave us in Jerusalem at all. Instead, Mark sends us back to Galilee. He sends us back to the beginning.
        Richard Jensen has pointed out that in Mark, there are two responses to Jesus and his message. People react with fear or faith. One or the other. In most instances, the ones who respond with fear are Jesus’ own disciples. Consider, for example, the stories of the disciples whenever they are in boats. The first time they get into a boat with Jesus, a storm comes up and the disciples panic and wonder how Jesus can be sleeping in the back of the boat during all this. So they wake him up and Jesus calms the storm. And Jesus asks them, “Why were you afraid.”
        Later, they’re back in a boat again, this time Jesus has stayed behind to pray by himself. Again, a storm rolls in and the disciples are afraid. But then they see what they think is a ghost coming towards them on the water, and they are even more terrified. And Jesus says, “It’s me, don’t be afraid.”
        And of course we’ve just come through the Lenten season and Good Friday when we hear Peter, the most favored disciple, deny Jesus three times because he was afraid of the Roman authorities. Time after time, those closest to Jesus, his own disciples, respond with the Jesus with fear.
        Interestingly, the ones who respond to Jesus with faith are usually the unnamed characters in Mark’s Gospel, especially the women. First, there was the woman who had the persistent flow of blood and asked Jesus for healing. Then there was the Syro-Phoenician woman who came seeking healing for her daughter and wins Jesus over saying, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” And we remember the woman who anointed Jesus from alabaster jar of pure nard. We don’t know their names, but they are the ones who respond to Jesus with faith.
        So when Mark clearly names the women present at Jesus’ crucifixion, and then names them again here on Easter morning, well, the expectation is “Ahhh, finally, someone close to Jesus is going to get it right.” Our hopes for a happy, neat, satisfying ending are riding on these women responding with joy, running back and telling the other disciples that Jesus has indeed risen from the grave. Everything is going to be alright. Our Easter hope hinges on Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome.
        That’s why this seems like such a bad ending. We expect so much from these women, and yet too are afraid. They flee in terror. They don’t say anything to anyone. And so we are left alone. There are no more characters left on stage. What happens now? How will people hear this story about Jesus’ resurrection if no one says anything?
        And that’s precisely where Mark wants to leave us. Mary Ann Talbot points out that we need to ask not what this ending means, but rather what does it do. And what it does is leave us as stewards of the Good News. We may wonder, “Is there anyone else available to tell the story of Jesus’ resurrection?” – well of course there is, the audience itself, the hearers of the story, and today, my friends – that’s you.
        Donald Juel has also written about this curious ending of Mark. He says, “Mark’s Gospel forbids closure. There is no stone in front of the tomb. Jesus is out, on the loose. The doors in Mark’s Gospel are emphatically open. The curtain of the Temple has been torn open. Jesus is out of the tomb. God is no longer safely behind the curtain.”
        In Jesus Christ, the Spirit of God is out of the tomb. God is no longer in Heaven only, no longer behind the curtain. In Jesus Christ, God is no longer confined to the pages of a book, or locked in a sanctuary until we come back next week. In Mark’s story, the Spirit of God in Jesus Christ is out there, ahead of you.
        So the question Mark wants to leave us with is “How will you respond?” Will we respond with fear, like the disciples, including the women at the tomb? Or will you respond with faith? The kind of faith that will drive you to tell the story. To pick up where Mark leaves off. Go back to the beginning and live the story all over again. So don’t be alarmed. Jesus has been raised. He is not here. He is out there. Go, tell the story. He is going ahead of you. Go back to the beginning and there you will see him. Go back to the beginning and tell the story of God’s love shown to you in Jesus Christ, the one crucified, the one risen. It’s now our turn to go back to the beginning and live the story again.

        May God be praised.

        Alleluia. Alleluia. Amen.

03-28-2021 On Donkey Duty

Thomas J Parlette
“On Donkey Duty”
Mark 11: 1-11, Palm Sunday
3/28/2021

       Back in the year 2000, Juliet and I organized a trip to Italy and Germany to see the famous Oberammergau Passion Play that is done every 10 years. This was before we had children and of course, before COVID 19, so we could still travel. Now before we went to see the play, we toured around in Italy – a couple of days in Florence, our favorite, some time in Venice, Assisi, and of course Rome. We spent months reading and researching all the places we wanted to see and things we wanted to do. One of the spots on our “to do” list was the Pantheon on Rome.
       The Pantheon was originally built to honor all the various gods of Rome, although it has also functioned as a tomb for important artists like Raphael, and various Kings of Italy, as well as holding some church services. In fact, services are still held at the Pantheon on special occasions. I’m sure that has been suspended with the pandemic, but I’m sure they will return.
       II remember a couple of things in particular about our visit to this world famous monument. First of all, it was much harder to find that I thought it would be. Rome is not laid out like Washington DC. For instance, where everything is out in the open and pretty clearly labeled. The Pantheon is tucked away in a maze of ancient side streets with only intermittent, and sometimes vague signs pointing the way – or maybe I should say suggesting the way. You really have to work to find it. And when you do – you might not realize it. There’s no sign. There is no Billboard proclaiming “The Pantheon.” It’s just right there and you think, “well, that place with the pillars and the dome looks important – that’s probably it.”
       And then, when you go inside – it’s not quite what you expect. I remember it was very dark. The only light in the place comes from a small opening, called the occulus, at the top of the dome. And physically, it’s a much smaller place than I would have imagined. We walked around for maybe 15 minutes and that was about it. Luckily, there was a wonderful little gelato shop right around the corner – incidentally, in Italy, there is always a nice little gelato shop around the corner – the Italians really know how to live. So we stopped in and had a wonderful ice cream before our next stop.
       I had expected something far grander, something stunning, something magnificent, when we visited the Pantheon. Now it was very nice, but it wasn’t what I had built up in my mind. The Pantheon wasn’t quite as glorious as I had expected it to be.       When I read this story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, especially as Mark tells it – I wonder if maybe the disciples felt a little underwhelmed by the whole experience, particularly the two disciples who ended up on donkey duty.
       Today is Palm Sunday, the day we celebrate Jesus’ triumphal arrival in the city of Jerusalem. But the story as we hear it in Mark seems a bit odd perhaps, because Mark spends so much time dealing with what seems like a small matter. Mark uses the first seven verses of this story to tell us about the donkey detail, how the colt was rounded up for Jesus to ride in on. He only spends three verses on the parade itself. We tend to think of the palm branches and the hosannas as the important part of the story – but for some reason, Mark doesn’t spend that much time on the Palm Sunday parade we’ve come to know and love.
       Of course, it should be noted that this is not the only parade taking place in Jerusalem that day. Over on the other side of town, another important figure had arrived with a grand procession.
       According Borg and Crossan’s book The Last Week, the procession of the Roman governor Pontius Pilate was entering the city from the west side to provide a military presence as a security measure during the Passover Festival. The historian Josephus tells us that Pilate had a rather contentious relationship with the citizens of Jerusalem. On previous visits to the city, the Jews had staged demonstrations over the desecration of the Temple, and on one particular occasion, Pilate appropriated some Temple funds to build an aqueduct for Jerusalem. During the royal procession, Pilate had Roman soldiers, dressed as Jewish civilians and armed with hidden clubs, mingle with the shouting crowd and attack the people at a prearranged signal. There was a history attached to these royal processions. There was some bad blood during these parades. Now over on the Eastern side of the city, Jesus was also arriving, but with a different sort of parade. Many scholars believe that Jesus had carefully planned his entry into Jerusalem and intended this parade to be a sort of street theater event mocking the Roman Empire. Pilate’s procession embodied power, violence and the glory of the empire that ruled the world. Jesus’ procession embodied the kind of kingdom that God was ushering in through Jesus ministry of healing, his message of good news, and ultimately, his death on a Roman cross. Whether this Palm Sunday was meant as a parody or as a simple contrast between the Roman Empire and the Kingdom of God is a matter that is still debated today. But this much is certain. Jesus is very deliberate in his preparations. He is very intentional about the details here. And those disciples on donkey duty – they actually had a very important job. Although I’m not sure they would have agreed.
       The distinguished preacher Tom Long has written a meditation on this passage, and he writes, “Though no one knows what these two disciples were thinking, I’m confident that they had imagined for themselves a grander and nobler role on this day than being on donkey duty.” Long says that, though Mark does not explicitly say which two disciples went and got the animal, he suspects that maybe they were James and John. Just a few hours before, these two were the ones who had said to Jesus, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” And now look at what they are being called upon to do. Okay guys, if that’s what you want, go rent the donkey for me!
       It’s true, being on donkey duty doesn’t seem all that glorious – but their assignment was actually very important. The donkey is a key symbol in this parade. The Jews watching this procession would have remembered the story from 1st Kings in which an elderly King David makes arrangements for his son Solomon’s coronation as the next King. David gives instructions to “have my son Solomon ride on my own mule.” They would have remembered the words of Zechariah as he described the image of a King coming into Jerusalem with shouts of joy. He is triumphant and victorious, but also humble, and rides on a donkey instead of a noble war horse. That’s why Mark spends so much time describing the acquisition of this colt or donkey. It signifies a fulfilling of scripture, the arrival of a peaceful King, just as the prophets foretold.
       But perhaps there is another reason for all the attention focused on these two disciples arranging for Jesus’ donkey.
       You remember how Mark began his Gospel. He began with John the Baptist crying out in the wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” From the very beginning, Mark calls us to prepare the way. And on this Sunday, that becomes the definition of a faithful disciple – one who prepares the way for the Lord, and sometimes that means arranging for the donkey.
       We disciples are the ones who prepare the way for the Lord. On our own, we can’t bring about God’s Kingdom, we can’t change anyone’s life – not on our own. God will do that, through Jesus Christ. Our job is to prepare the way for that to happen. Look at what Jesus’ own disciples are called to do. They are the ones who secure the upper room. They are the ones who collect the baskets full of left over bread and fish. They are the ones told to go out and preach, heal, and cast out demons. They are the ones who are sent out to prepare the way. They are the ones on donkey duty.
       And so are we. This Sunday we can celebrate all those seemingly mundane, simple, ordinary tasks we do that help prepare the way for the Lord to work. We celebrate those faithful disciples who stop off at Hallmark and pick up a get-well card for the friend in the hospital. We celebrate those people who will deliver flowers to those unable to get out of the house like they used to. We celebrate those saints of the church who happily bake bars and cookies for people to munch on as they share their grief at funeral receptions. We celebrate those cheerful faces that gather in the kitchen and prepare bacon and potatoes for St. Patrick’s Day coddle, our pancakes and sausages for Shrove Tuesday. Through all these seemingly small, mundane gestures, we are fulfilling the will of God. We are preparing the way for Jesus. We are doing those things that must be done before Jesus can make his entry in to the world. While we are on donkey duty, we are preparers of the way!
       On this Palm Sunday, we celebrate Jesus entry in Jerusalem. We celebrate the contrast between God’s kingdom as we know it through Christ and the world’s kingdom as we see it in the Roman Empire. We celebrate the arrival of justice, peace and love come to conquer power, violence and self-interest. But we also celebrate all those seemingly mundane ordinary tasks that faithful disciples have carried out for years. In thousands of ways, large and small, those of us on donkey duty have helped prepare the way of the Lord.

       May God be praised. Amen.

03-14-2021 Alive Together

Rev. Jay Rowland

Ephesians 2:1-10

March 14, 2021, Lent 4B First Presbyterian Church, Rochester MN

Alive Together

The opening phrase of Ephesians chapter 2 jumps off the page for me:

In the past you were spiritually dead because of your disobedience and sins. …

(In the past? Hmmm. Okay.)

I know what that’s like, don’t you? … what it’s like to be spiritually dead. I know what it’s like to be spiritually alive. I think we all do.

Let’s start with the part about being spiritually alive. For me that’s all about being connected to the Lord in some intentional way and there’s a multitude of ways and opportunities: meditation, prayer, scripture, journaling, a walk outside, a swim in a lake, skating on that same lake frozen in winter, fly-fishing in a stream, camping, exercise, daily devotional, to name only a few ...

For me, being spiritually awake and alive happens when I’m connecting to the Lord. Let me quickly add here my belief that the Lord is always connected to us; the issue for me is about my connection and attentiveness to the Lord in the Spirit. Again, I want to repeat I know the Lord is always “there” but I cannot say the same for me. I’ve also learned that this connection doesn’t automatically happen every time I set aside time for the Lord. But the Good News is that whenever I’m “there” I know it because I feel more alive and at peace, more present in my relationships, more open to life as it unfolds.

Unfortunately, the opposite is also true. Stumbling through life disconnected from the Lord carries over into my relationships and all facets of life. There’s numerous distractions and disruptions which get in the way of spiritual connectedness with the Lord and with life but I don’t usually if ever recognize these as distractions and disruptions b/c they just don’t introduce themselves as such, right? The other tricky thing is that oftentimes there are legit matters that do require some of my time and attention, and also sometimes there are fun and enjoyable distractions which we all need from time to time.

There’s a healthy balance there somewhere but what’s so hard for me is it’s such a fine line of distinction. very nuanced. I don’t ever see spiritual disconnection coming toward me--there’s no trumpets blaring or red-lights flashing in my consciousness. I’ll just be going along, doing my thing and I’ll somehow catch myself going through the motions. Then it dawns on me how much I’ve been feeling spiritually dry or spiritually asleep, or even spiritually dead, as Ephesians puts it. And in my experience, when that happens, I can’t imagine hell being any worse.

What I treasure about this passage from Ephesians is the assurance that God’s mercy is so abundant, and his love for us is so great, that while we were spiritually dead in our disobedience he brought us to life with Christ. It is by God's grace alone that we are saved…(Eph 2:5)

The passage is also fascinating to me because it alludes to other factors in play. It shows how our ancestors in the faith saw it as a given that there are spiritual forces at work in the world. Some are good, some are not. For people back then this was a simple undeclared fact, and I agree.

It’s like gravity is for us. We don’t often think about gravity every day, but it’s a force that acts upon the planet, the solar system, the tides, and even our bodies. Similarly, there are powers and principalities and spiritual forces at work in the world which no mortal or human can single-handedly curtail or control. This spiritual sensibility drives much of the content in the Ephesians text, and much if not all of the Bible.

And yet, here in our hyper-industrialized, digital-ized, and intellectualized 21st-century world, such notions are quickly dismissed. I understand and accept why that is. But to me, this world and this life is a mystery that resists being domesticated by rational explanations alone. Our ancestors took it as a given that there are invisible forces moving and working in the world, forces for good and forces for evil, powers and principalities, and other authorities and forces-of-nature all of which are beyond our or anyone’s control.

The most important corollary about that for me personally is to recognize and accept that I am powerless over these powers and forces, spiritual and natural, at work in the world. Equally important to me is recognizing and accepting how my own sin and disobedience adds to the chaos in the world and in my own life.

I have learned the hard way that I cannot overcome my sin and disobedience by myself. Even the most gifted surgeon cannot perform surgery on themselves. So it makes rational and spiritual sense to understand this reality about how we must handle our own sin. For me, my sanity and spiritual health is contingent upon my reliance upon a power greater than me to show me and help me navigate life fraught with sin and disobedience--mine and everyone else's. And for me that power greater than me (and more trustworthy than me) is God and the community of the faithful.

Admitting powerlessness doesn’t mean being helpless or without choices. We are still free to choose how we live in a world over which we are powerless. For instance, I can choose to dismiss or ignore the power of the world’s authorities and spiritual powers. I can choose to become militant in opposition to or in support of certain powers or authorities. I can choose to run away, break off all contact, declare the world evil and just hide. And above all, the way I see it, though I am powerless, I do have just enough “power” to ruin a good thing, make a bad situation worse, and wreak all kinds of havoc.

The pandemic is perhaps the most blatant example of this nuance of powerlessness. Viruses are naturally occurring phenomena, as old as the earth itself. They’re not inherently evil in and of themselves. But as we know viruses have been wreaking havoc on humanity for centuries, wielding suffering, death, and disaster. We all see that this particular virus has unleashed epic proportions of death and suffering upon every aspect of human life. Yet in spite of all of that, I don’t see the COVID-19 pandemic as an evil scheme hatched by the devil or other evil forces. Nor do I see the COVID19 pandemic as some “punishment from God for our sin” either.

What I do see is the impact of human sin and disobedience and how it exacerbated this disaster. Scientists have been warning us about pandemics, much like it has with global warming, and the epic disastrous consequences of our failure to change our ways and to adequately prepare. And so we see how much human mishandling and mismanagement, and how much human choices and responses contributed significantly to the level of death and destruction from this pandemic. It did not have to be as bad as it was. It might have turned out far less deadly and destructive.

At the same time, however, it is plain to see evidence of God’s abundance of mercy and love. Human ingenuity and cooperation, the best aspects of humanity have delivered a vaccine. The best of humanity has delivered ongoing care, help, assistance, recovery, and healing. I see God at work in all of that. I see the spiritual power for good in every act of human kindness and care and sacrifice.

Now perhaps you can understand why I prefer to see life and the world as a mystery that defies rational explanation.

I recognize my place in the world and I choose to believe in the Lord God as the only power capable of dealing appropriately with the powers, principalities, and forces of chaos at work in this world and in our lives and communities. There’s tremendous energy and power active and moving in the world. I see the Lord God as the only force strong enough to keep the world’s powers, principalities, and forces from destroying us all, including the destructive power of nature and human-created chaos.

I believe that without God there is no me or we. And I also believe that without God we wouldn’t survive the spiritual and other forces in play all around us and within us every day.

Today’s passage from Ephesians remarkably describes this mystery of a loving God who is continually working for our salvation every single day. I’d like to close with a retelling of this passage, a mashup if you will of the Good News and The Message Bible translations with some paraphrasing on my part:

“All of us have followed other spiritual powers ... the spirit who controls the people who disobey God. Actually all of us have lived according to our natural desires, doing whatever suited the wishes of our own bodies and minds. And so like everyone else we seemed destined to suffer.

“But God's mercy is so abundant, God’s love for us is so great that while we were spiritually dead in our disobedience God brings us to life through Christ.

“It is by God's grace that we are saved. In our union with Christ Jesus God raises us up.

“God does this to demonstrate for all time to come the extraordinary greatness of God’s grace in the love God showed us in Christ Jesus.

“It is by God's grace alone that we are saved through our faith. We don’t play the major role. If we did, we’d probably go around bragging that we’d done the whole thing! No, we neither make nor save ourselves. God does both the making and saving. God creates each of us in Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he empowers and prepares us to do, work we had better be doing.

Amen to that.

03-07-2021 Righteous Anger

Thomas J Parlette
“Righteous Anger”
John 2: 13-22
3/7/21

Professional golfer Tommy Bolt, who won 15 PGA titles back in the 1950’s, earned the nickname “Thunder Bolt” for his temper tantrums on the golf course. He admitted later in his career that his displays of anger on the course were more about theatrics and entertaining the crowd than about actually losing his temper. He advised other golfers on the proper way to express anger on the course. He would tell his fellow golfers, “Always throw the club ahead of you so you can pick it up on your way” or “Never break your driver and putter in the same round.” When he faced criticism for his actions, Bolt claimed that he never threw a club that didn’t deserve it.”(1)

Back in the 50’s, people may have been shocked by Tommy Bolt expressing his anger publicly. These days, I think we’ve become immune to it. Anger seems to be our default reaction.

James Moore, in his book When All Else Fails, Read the Instructions, tells about an older woman years ago who was called to testify at a very dramatic trial. “One of the lawyers was famous for being tough and heartless, and he was really badgering her on the witness stand. He shouted loudly and pointed his finger, using all kinds of tricks to upset and fluster the woman. She prayed quietly to God for strength. She asked God to help her stay poised and find the right words.

“Just then the lawyer went into a tirade, asking a sarcastic, ruthless question, gesturing in a demeaning way and shouting loudly.

When he finished, she leaned forward, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “I’m not sure I got all that. Could you please scream it at me again?”

“When she said that,” says Moore, “the jury broke up in laughter, spectators in the courtroom applauded, even the judge had to chuckle, and the humiliated lawyer said, “Oh just forget it! No more questions.”(2)

It’s sad, but studies show that Americans are angrier than ever. NPR and IBM Watson Health teamed up to survey Americans on their attitudes toward anger. The results may not surprise you. 84% percent of people surveyed said “Americans are angrier today compared with a generation ago.” 42% percent of people reported feeling angrier in the past year than they had been in times past. 69% percent of people surveyed believe that anger is a negative emotion. But 31% percent said anger can have a positive effect if it moves people to take action. (3)

The tennis star John McEnroe actually used his anger to motivate himself through a tough match. Michael Jordan used to look for any perceived insult from an opponent to whip up his own anger to motivate himself during a game as well. So anger does have its uses.

There are times when it is right to get angry. In our passage from John for today, we see such a time as Jesus visits the Temple in Jerusalem and drives out the moneychangers. The leaders of the Temples had turned a place of worship into what John calls “a marketplace.”

The moneychangers were originally an answer to a problem raised by Roman currency. The coins had an image of Caesar stamped them. Therefore, they were unacceptable to the Jews for Temple ceremonies. The people were forced to change their Roman coins into coins that were acceptable. Those of you who have travelled abroad have probably traded currency at a little shop set up for that purpose. It can be a very profitable enterprise for the moneychanger. The moneychangers Jesus confronted, however, had brought their little shops right into the Temple itself.

And they weren’t the only ones doing business in the Temple. Sacrificial animals were also being sold. You could bring your own animal with you, but most people didn’t because they were travelling and it was too difficult to travel with an animal. In addition, the animal had to be “without blemish” to be sacrificed in the Temple, and there were inspectors that checked that out. And, as you might guess, it was rare to have an animal that you brought with you pass the inspection – they wanted you to buy there at the Temple.

And, as you might expect, the shopkeepers were very competitive trying to drum up business. The most sacred shrine of the Jewish people had become a tawdry, commercialized circus. This made Jesus angry, and rightly so. This was God’s house and it had been desecrated. And Jesus took it personally. Suddenly he was turning over tables, scattering coins everywhere. Then a he fashioned a whip and drove the traders out of the Temple, along with the sacrificial animals.

When the dust settled and the commotion died down, people wondered what had hit them. People asked questions, but nobody really protested. Deep down, they knew Jesus had a point. His example shows us that there are times when it’s OK to get angry. Anger reveals our deepest values and priorities. The Bible does warn us to avoid people who are quick tempered, or who get angry about petty things. But anger and love are not mutually exclusive emotions. In fact, if we are complacent or apathetic about the things that matter to God, then we should question whether we love God at all. If we can look at the suffering and injustice and evil in the world and not get at least a little bit angry, then we need to question our commitment as followers of Christ.

Anglican priest Garret Keizer wrote in his book The Enigma of Anger that “My anger has not carried me far enough towards changing what legitimately enrages me.”(4)

Writer Shannon Leigh expresses this idea well when she writes, “Anger is a boundary; it tells others what isn’t okay, and it shows you where your limits are… Anger is like your engine light flashing – a beacon signaling that something needs care and attention.”(5)

Jesus was clearly laying down some boundaries in our passage for today. Jesus loved God and God’s people so much that he was disgusted and enraged by anything that violated that relationship. And using God’s Temple to take advantage of people who genuinely wanted to worship God was despicable in Jesus’ eyes. The Temple was supposed to be the place where you left the world behind and encountered God. Instead, the world had taken over the Temple and converted it to a marketplace.

There are times when people ought to express their anger at such practices. That is something that a lot of good, sweet, nice, decent people need to realize. When Jesus told us to turn the other cheek, he did not mean for us to become doormats for everyone to walk on. Certainly he was no doormat. He drove the tax collectors out of the Temple. So, obviously, there are times when we must express our anger. Remember that even anger can be a gift from God. It can be a powerful motivating force in life. There is a time for holy and righteous anger.

Jesus’ example today also shows us that there is a time for action as well as anger. Is there some form of evil in the world that a voice within you keeps saying, “Somebody ought to do something about that?” Maybe that’s the voice of God. Maybe it’s time for you to go beyond anger to some form of action.

Singer/songwriter Ray Charles tells of having to perform concerts during the days of segregation and Jim Crow laws. Back in the 1950’s, he was being led into a concert hall in Augusta, Georgia to perform a show. There were protesters gathered in a picket line outside the hall, protesting that the concert would be segregated. Only White people were allowed on the main dance floor – the Black had to sit in the balcony.

When a protestor got to close to Ray and began chanting “No More Segregation” at him, Charles responded, “Look man, there ain’t nothing I can do about it. I’m an entertainer.” He had been raised with institutional racism all his life. He was playing a concert in the Deep South. He was just one man – how could he change the system?

But a few minutes later, Charles heard the White concert organizer insult the protester. And something in Ray Charles snapped. He knew he had to do something. He couldn’t accept the injustice anymore. So he did what he could. He ordered his band to get back on the bus and leave Georgia. The concert organizer threatened to sue him. The State of Georgia banned him from making any public performances in the state. But Ray Charles didn’t care. He was going to stand up for equality and justice no matter what it cost him.

It took 20 years, but later in 1979, in one of those great reversals of history, Ray Charles was offered a public apology by the state legislature of Georgia, and his rendition of “Georgia on My Mind was adopted as the official state song.”(6)

There is indeed a time for righteous anger and a time for righteous action as well.

So as we gather at the Lord’s Table this morning, let us nourish ourselves for the work of channeling the righteous anger we feel at the injustice and inequality we see in our own time.

May God be praised. Amen.

1.    Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVII, No 1, p47
2.    Ibid… p47.
3.    Ibid… p47.
4.    Ibid… p48.
5.    Ibid… p48.
6.    Ibid… p48-49.

02-28-2021 Never Too Old

Thomas J Parlette
“Never Too Old”
Genesis 17: 1-7, 15-16
2/28/21

          The story is told about an elderly gentleman who was sitting in the reception room of a dentist’s office. It was his first visit to this particular dentist. While waiting for his appointment, he noticed a certificate hanging on a wall which bore the dentist’s full name. Suddenly he remembered that a slender, nice-looking young woman with that same name had been in his high school some 50 years ago. Could this be that same person?

          But when the dentist came out to meet him, he quickly discarded any such thought. This gray-haired dentist with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been his classmate.
          After she had examined his teeth, he mentioned the name of his high school, and asked if by chance she had gone there. “I sure did.”
          “When did you graduate?” he asked.
          “1965, why do you ask?”
          “You were in my class,” he exclaimed.
          The dentist squinted her eyes and looked at him closely and asked, “What subject did you teach?”(1)
          Apparently he didn’t look so young either.

          Our lesson for today from the book of Genesis begins like this: “When Abram was 99 years old, the Lord appeared to him and said, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make a covenant between you and me, and will make you exceedingly numerous.”

          99 years old! Certainly old – but not too old for God to do something new. This was not the first time that God had come to Abram making promises. 24 years ago, when Abram was a spry 75 year- old, God had come to him and directed him to pick up and move to a land that God would show him. “Take your whole family, Abram. Don’t worry about where you’re going, I’ll show you in due time.”

          Abram obeyed God – he left, went on the road with his whole family, because God told him to. Never too old to make a change when God is involved. That was the kind of faith Abram had. And that was the kind of faith that gave birth to the nation of Israel.

          In today’s passage, God challenges Abram’s faith with an even more outlandish promise. God tells Abram that Sarai will have a son. At 99 years old, Abram will be a father! And Sarai, is going to have a baby boy when she is 89! Never too old, I guess.

          It was hard to believe, but nevertheless – Abram believed God’s promise. And he gets a new name, as does Sarai. Now they are to be known as Abraham and Sarah. Even God takes on a new name. This is the first time in Scripture that God uses the name El Shaddai – God Almighty. Everybody gets a new name, because a new covenant, a new promise, is being formed. Abraham and Sarah would become the ancestors of a multitude of nations.  And Abraham and Sarah believed every word. As Paul says, Abraham “hoped against hope” that the message was true. And Abraham moved forward with faith.

          As we consider Abraham’s example, we see what faith really is. Faith is a dynamic, forward looking relationship with God. Faith is not a spectator sport. Faith is not sitting on your hands waiting for God to perform a miracle. Faith is a matter of movement. Faith is a matter of obedience to God’s command’s. God needs people today who will obey Jesus’ instructions to love, to serve and to give. We are not called to be passive spectator’s. We are called to get into the game of life.

          Many Christians miss that truth. For many, faith is a cautious, cloistered type of experience in which one seeks, above all, not to ripple the waters. But faith also involves risk. Faith involves moving out, like Abraham did. Faith involves setting our eyes on a lofty goal, even when it might seem unreachable – like having a baby boy when you’re in your 90’s and so is your wife.

          In other words, there is such a thing as being too careful. We miss the exhilaration of life when we refuse to venture out, to do things on faith, to stretch for that which is beyond our grasp.

          Have you ever noticed that so many of our attitudes about life are expressed in cautious, or even negative terms? For instance, when the weather anchor gives the forecast for the next day. “Tomorrow there will be a 20% chance of snow.” They never say, “Hey, there’s an 80% chance that it’ll be nice tomorrow.” Faith has a positive outlook. Faith is being willing to heed God’s command regardless of how daunting it may seem. Abraham is an example of what faith is all about. Faith is moving out. Faith involves setting your eyes on a lofty goal. People of faith are those who enlarge our horizons, champion our causes, who move humanity forward. They inspire the rest of us.

          A fellow Presbyterian pastor named Stephen Janssen tells about Sir Alexander Fleming, a Scottish physician and microbiologist, who won the Nobel Prize for medicine when he discovered penicillin. As many of you are probably aware, Fleming made this discovery quite by accident. One day he happened to notice that the fungus on a certain glass plate had died when it came into contact with some mold that was on the same plate. Fleming was a very positive, forward-looking person who followed up on his observations. Most people would just wash the mold off the plate – most of us don’t see much value in mold.

          But out of curiosity, Fleming took a bit of mold and cultured it for further study. And out of his work back in 1928 came penicillin – the most widely used antibiotic in the world. Alexander Fleming had found a way to treat formerly severe and life-threatening illnesses such as pneumonia and meningitis.

          Pastor Janssen writes, “One observer commented that what impressed him about Fleming was that he immediately acted on his observation. Most of us, when we see something unusual, we say “That’s interesting,” and we do nothing about it. We need to let God show us how to see the world’s difficulties, so that we might know what we can do about them.”(2)

          It is important for us as Christian people to see that Christian faith is not a static, passive, non-threatening style of life. Jesus was a doer. He was a person who was so outspoken that he aroused envy, bitterness and even hatred. If he had been some nice, quiet guy sitting in the corner not bothering anyone – well, he wouldn’t have accomplished very much, and certainly not salvation and eternal life for his followers.

          Somehow, though, the Christian faith is seen by many people as a style of life in which we are quiet, submissive people who never venture out, never trouble the waters, and subsequently never achieve great things. But nothing could be further from what God calls us to be. Christian faith is a dynamic, forward-looking relationship with God. People of faith are the doers in this world, they are the ones who enlarge our horizons. And one of the greatest acts of faith involves our relationships with others.

          You may be familiar with the name Philippe Petit. Petit is a French high-wire artist who gained fame when he walked on a high-wire strung between the lofty towers of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris in 1971. Some of you may remember that, in 1974, he pulled off the same stunt at the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. As thousands watched below, Petit made seven crossings of a cable stretched 1,350 feet above the traffic and concrete of Manhattan – dancing, spinning and even lying down in the middle of his cable.

          Even today, Philippe Petit is not afraid to take risks. In fact, he says he does not see wire walking as risky. He has rehearsed his moves on the high wire so many times that he feels safe there.

          There is one thing, however that terrifies Philippe Petit. He says, “Some risks I find impossible to take – particularly personal risks with people – for example marriage, or having children.”(3)

          That seems odd. Getting married and having children are scarier to this wire-walker than crossing a tiny cable 1,350 feet in the air. In some ways, I guess he’s right. Getting married is a big leap of faith. Pledging to love someone till death do us part, that’s a little risky, a little scary. And so is having children. Kids change everything. And just when you think you’ve got everything sort of under control, they grow into another stage with new challenges. Infant – to toddler – to pre-school – to kindergarten… and then they’re driving cars and looking at colleges. It is both risky and scary. But such relationships also bring great joy.

          But there is a greater risk that this passage highlights – the leap of faith that Abraham took. A leap of faith in God.

          Sheila Cassidy in her book Audacity to Believe, tells of being arrested in Chile years ago on trumped up charges after treating a wounded revolutionary. She was arrested and held without trial in a detention camp.

          She was finally found guilty of a minor infraction but still was held in the detention camp. A friend gave her one of those pocket New Testaments. Leafing through it, she came to that passage in Romans where Paul asks, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword? No. In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

          Sheila writes, “Incredibly, in the midst of fear and loneliness, I was filled with joy, for I knew without any vestige of doubt that God was with me, and that nothing they could do would change that.”(4)

          Faith is not accepting a handful of propositions and saying, “Oh yes, I believe. Now I am bound for heaven.” That is a pale imitation of the real thing. The real thing is when you know Jesus as your Savior and Lord and you seek to live courageously for him in this world – staking everything you are and hope to be on God’s eternal promise – like Abraham “hoping against hope” that the message of the covenant is true.

          That is real faith. That is the kind of faith that can turn a world right side up. And as Abraham and Sarah demonstrate – you are never too old to have that kind of faith.

          May God be praised. Amen.
 

1.    Dynamic Preaching, Vol XXXVII, No. 1, p43.
2.    Ibid… p44.
3.    Ibid… p45.
4.    Ibid… p45-46.

02-21-2021 It's Not About the Water

Thomas J Parlette
“It’s Not About the Water”
Genesis 9: 8-17

2/21/21, 1st Lent

          I remember when Juliet and I first learned that we were expecting. We did what many first time parents do – we started reading all the books and making our preparations. One those things we did was fix up a nursery with a crib and a rocking chair and educational mobiles that spin and beep and light up.

          We chose to do a Noah’s Ark theme in our nursery. It’s a pretty popular pick. It works for a boy or a girl and who doesn’t like all those animals.

          We always think of the story about Noah and the Ark as kid friendly. But when you read the story closely, it is one of the more violent stories in Scripture. God decides the world isn’t worth saving – God decides to wipe the slate clean and start again. God decides to kill all life on the face of the earth. Pretty horrific really.

          When I was studying for my Master of Biblical Storytelling Certificate, one of the requirements was to present and record a 2-hour story concert. So I learned a variety of Old Testament stories combined with some folktales to present for the first half of the concert, and then some Gospel stories for the second half. And one of the stories I learned was Noah and the Ark. I want to tell you, this story is hard to tell because it is so violent. In fact, I remember one of the times I told this story at a neighboring church, a lady scolded me afterwards because she thought I made up all those quotes about God killing every living thing on earth. “That isn’t in the Bible, God wouldn’t do that, I don’t appreciate you playing that up so much,” she said. I had to open up one of that church’s own pew bibles and point out to her that the text notes on 5 separate occasions over the course of 3 verses that “all flesh died…” “everything with breath died…”, “God blotted out every living thing…”, “They were all blotted out from the Earth…”,  “Only Noah was left…” I admit it’s a bit excessive, but the author wanted to make that point crystal clear. But alas, she wasn’t happy with that realization and left saying, “Well, I don’t use that translation.” It’s a hard story to tell, and a hard story to hear.

          I’m told that there is a museum in Ann Arbor, Michigan that has the unofficial name “The Museum of Failed Products.” It’s shelves are lined with all the products and inventions that were taken off the market because nobody bought them. Things like Clairol’s “Touch of Yogurt” shampoo. Or Gillette’s “For Oily Hair Only”. Or Pepsi’s AM Breakfast Cola that was supposed to compete with straight up coffee as your morning drink. And I don’t know why Colgate-brand TV dinners didn’t make it.(1) I don’t know, did their meatloaf taste like toothpaste?

          Can you imagine the disappointment of the inventor who poured his or her time, energy and intellect into creating a product that failed?

          Or, can you imagine how disheartened and disappointed God must have been in looking upon Creation and seeing that it had all fallen apart?

          Former Beatle, Paul McCartney, once coined a word to describe the letdown fans experience “when a new song by an old group fails to make them feel young again.” The word is “Anticipointment.” Anticipointment, says McCartney, is the feeling of disappointment you get when you’re expecting something really great, but you get something entirely different.(2)

          Perhaps God was feeling some anticipointment about what had been created. When the Lord took stock of the earth, the Lord saw that the wickedness of humankind was great and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind. It grieved him to his heart. So God decided to put an end to all flesh. As Walter Brueggeman puts it, “God is deeply upset with the world gone crazy. God is sorry that the project of creation was ever started at all. In an emotional frenzy over betrayed love, God decided to drown his sorrows. All the spigots of heaven and earth were opened to full blast.”(3) And everything on earth died.

          The water flowed for forty days and forty nights. Even the highest mountains were covered with water! Everything died! All were blotted out: human beings, animals, creeping things, birds… everything – for 150 days the water covered the earth.

          But Brueggeman reminds us, “This story in not about the water.” It’s not about the death and destruction. “It is about God’s emotional attachment to the earth. It is about God the way it is about a parent of a teenager who loses it in a frenzy over teenage insanity and recalcitrance. The waters come up to match the rising affront that God felt with a failed earth, the same failed earth we observe all around us.”(4)

          This is a God who cares in excessive, frenzied ways about the earth.

          The most important part of this whole story, Noah and the Ark, is really what happens later. It’s not about the water. It’s not about the death and destruction. But we need to experience the violence of this story to appreciate its resolution.

          After the waters swelled for 150 days, the Scripture says “God remembered.” God remembered Noah. God remembered that there was some goodness in the failed creation. As Brueggeman wrote, “God remembered the faithful who had not joined the insanity. God stopped short in the frenzy of emotion the way a parent of a teenager is stopped short when one remembers that this object of rage is a well-beloved daughter or son. God comes to God’s sense, after having lost the way.”(5)  No, this story is not about water. It’s not about death and destruction. “It is about God and God’s deep love for the earth, God’s raging anger at betrayal, and God’s abrupt about-face when God remembered what God had forgotten, what God had forgotten about loving the earth and the creatures in it.”(6)

          Yes, God remembered.

          The theologian Jurgen Moltmann once wrote “The ultimate reason for our hope is not to be found in what we want, wish for and wait for. The ultimate reason for our hope is that WE are wanted and wished for and waited for. God is our last hope because WE are God’s first love.”(7)

          So yes, God remembered God’s first love.

          And with that remembrance, God made some promises. Which brings us to our text for today. God makes a covenant with Noah and all his descendants. God says, “Never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth. I have a set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember. I will remember my covenant.”

          In this covenant, God puts the bow, a weapon of war and destruction on the shelf forever.

          This is one of the traditional texts for the First Sunday of Lent because just a few days ago we marked ourselves with another sign, of another covenant. The covenant, or promise, of forgiveness and new life that we signify with the mark of ashes. God’s first covenant sign was the bow in the sky, and now we have another covenant sign of forgiveness and new life through Jesus death and resurrection.

          Major Barbara Sherer served as a military chaplain in Kuwait. She wrote about the time a fire swept through her camp one day, destroying the tents the troops were using as a dining hall and a chapel. Amazingly, the fire started right after breakfast in between the times for the Protestant and Catholic services. No one was in the tents at the time, so nobody got hurt. The fire also happened just a few days before Ash Wednesday. Major Sherer decided that instead of burning palm fronds and collecting the ashes for Ash Wednesday as she normally would, she would use some of the ashes from the burned military tents to anoint the foreheads of the soldiers.

          After the fire cooled down, Major Sherer got permission to visit the site to collect some ashes. A firefighter scooped up a cupful and put it in a plastic bag and gave it to her. Later, as she was pouring the ashes into a bowl for the service, she spotted something shiny in the bag. It was a small silver cross that had survived the fire. On it were inscribed the words “Jesus is Lord.” The fire had burned through five very large tents. Everything in the path of the fire had been destroyed. How had the firefighter, in scooping up a random cup of ashes, managed to pick the exact spot where this tiny cross lay hidden?

          Major Sherer writes, “The message to me is clear: God walks with us through the terrible firestorms of our lives, and we are lifted unharmed out of the ashes. We may be marked in some way, like the cross of ash on Wednesday. However, that mark is a symbol of God’s love and protection.”(8)

          The story of Noah and the Ark is not about the water. It’s not about the death and destruction. It’s about the sign of the bow. The first sign of God’s covenant of love for creation and for us.

          May God be praised. Amen.

1.           Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVII, No.1, p39.

2.           Ibid… p40.

3.           Walter Brueggemann, “Flooded with Fidelity”, The Collected Sermons of Walter Brueggemann Vol. 2, Westminster John Knox Press, 2015, p67.

4.           Ibid… p68.

5.           Ibid… p68.

6.           Ibid…p68.

7.           Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVII, Vol. 1, p41.

8.           Ibid… p41-42.

02-14-2021 Flat on Their Faces

Thomas J Parlette

“Flat on Their Faces”

Mark 9: 2-9

2/14/21

It’s always interesting when a secular holiday coincides with a Sunday – especially today when we have a religious holy day to celebrate. It’s impossible not to acknowledge that today is Valentine’s Day. I hope everybody remembered that. You’re probably in trouble if you forgot. If you’re not sure, perhaps you’d be interested in this list that someone compiled and posted online called “How to Tell if You Forgot Valentine’s Day:

1)   Hallmark calls, offering discounts on apology cards.

2)   Your kids tell you Mom “went to bed early” … and “locked the door” … while you were taking out the trash.

3)   You wake up with a florist’s ad taped to your forehead.

So I hope you remembered Valentine’s Day. But in church life, the liturgical calendar takes precedent – and today we celebrate the Transfiguration. Today we journey to the mountaintop with Jesus and three of his disciples where they have an unforgettable experience.

 The Transfiguration is one of the central stories of Jesus’ life. All three synoptic Gospels tell this story, in remarkably similar ways – although I confess, I do prefer Matthew’s telling. In Matthew, the disciples fall face down on the ground because they are so terrified at hearing the voice of God speak. I’ve always loved that little detail, but Mark doesn’t mention it. Mark just says they looked around and didn’t see anyone. A little anti-climactic, I think. I like the falling flat on their faces reaction. That seems more in line with the moment.

 An unknown author tells about another mountaintop experience. A group of mountain climbers set out to conquer a tall mountain. One member of their group was making his first really big mountain ascent.

The climb was a tough one, but at last they reached the small plateau at the top of the mountain. The inexperienced climber was so excited that he immediately sprang to his feet, raised his arms in the air and shouted, “I did it.”

 Just then a strong gust of wind nearly blew him off the mountain. The experienced climbers had a good laugh at this, then explained to him that when you get to the top of a really high mountain, you never stand straight up, rather you drop to your knees to avoid being blown off the mountain.(1)

 That’s a good lesson when it comes to mountaintop experiences – go to your knees, or maybe, fall flat on your face.

 Chapters 8 and 9 of Mark’s gospel contain some of the most important events in the New Testament. Chapter 8 starts off with the feeding of the 4,000 and ends with Peter declaring that Jesus is the Messiah – and then Jesus predicts his own death.

 The disciples were shocked and confused when Jesus said he must suffer and die. This wasn’t what they were expecting at all. So at the beginning of Chapter 9, Jesus gathered his inner circle of Peter, James and John and up the mountain they went – to get a little private time, and maybe the disciples thought they could get a better explanation out of Jesus.

 There was no way the disciples could have prepared for what would take place on the top of that mountain. The Gospels tell us that Jesus was transfigured, in the presence of his three closest disciples, according to Matthew, Jesus’ face became as bright as the sun, and Mark tells us his clothes became dazzling white and Luke relates each of those details as well.

 As if this weren’t enough, the disciples saw Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah, both of whom had been dead for hundreds of years. These two great figures of Israel represented the Law, and the Prophets, the sources of authority in Jewish life.

 Peter, as usual, has something to say. All three Gospels tell us that Peter said, “Rabbi it’s good for us to be here. Let’s put up three shelters – one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.”

 Then a cloud rolled in, covering them all – and a voice speaks, identifying Jesus as God’s son, and instructing the disciples to “listen to him.” And the disciples were so overwhelmed with fear and awe that they fell flat on their faces.

 It was such a striking experience that the disciples would remember their time on the mountaintop for the rest of their lives. Years later, Peter wrote in his second epistle, “For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. He received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory… We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain.” It’s not hard to imagine what an impact this mountaintop experience had on the disciples. They were kneeling in the presence of God’s Son, and the voice of God spoke.

 Jon Tal Murphree in his book, Made to be Mastered, tells about the impact that walking on the moon had on two of America’s astronauts. For one of them he says, “Moon walking had been his greatest goal in life, and he labored tirelessly toward achieving that goal. But once it was attained, he explained, there was no higher goal and he became disillusioned. He lost his ambition and his drive. Finally, he suffered an emotional breakdown.”

For another astronaut, however, the moon visit meant something totally different. In his autobiography, To Rule the Night, James Irwin wrote, “As we flew into space, we had a new sense of ourselves, of the earth and of the nearness to God. We were outside ordinary reality; I sensed the beginning of some sort of deep change taking place inside me.”

 Irwin continued, “The ultimate effect has been to deepen and strengthen all the religious insight I ever had… On the moon the total picture of the power of God and his Son Jesus Christ became abundantly clear to me.”(2)

 Who could not be affected by walking on the surface of the moon? And who wouldn’t be affected by being in the presence of Christ as his divinity came into focus?

 But the time came for Jesus and his three disciples to come down off the mountain. As Peter, James and John descended, they pondered the significance of what they had just experienced. I like to think they walked along in silence as they processed everything they had just witnessed.

 On the way down, Jesus instructed them not to tell anyone about this time on the mountain, at least not now. Save it, says Jesus until the Son of Man has risen from the dead.

 The time to share this experience would come – but just not yet. The time wasn’t right. Keep it to yourselves for now. Jesus knew that he and the disciples still had work to do. That’s why they couldn’t stay on the mountain.

 Theologian Henry Drummond says, “God does not make mountains in order to be inhabited. God does not make the mountaintops for us to live on the mountaintops. It is not God’s desire that we live on the mountaintops. We only ascend to the heights to catch a broader vision of the earthly surroundings below. But we don’t live there. We don’t tarry there. The streams begin in the uplands, but these streams descend quickly to gladden the valleys below.”(3)

 Dwight L. Moody, an American evangelist in the 1800’s, once wrote about meeting a man who testified that he had “lived on the Mount of Transfiguration” for 5 years. I suppose he meant that he had lived in the presence of Jesus for that long.

Moody asked him, “How many souls have you led to the healing light of Christ?”

The man said, “I don’t know.”

“Have you saved anyone from the pit of despair or the sting of death?”

“I can’t say that I have,” said the man.

“Well, that’s not the kind of mountain top experience that makes any difference,” Moody said. “When we get so high that we can’t reach down to other people, there is something wrong.”(4)

 Jesus told the three disciples with him on the Mount of Transfiguration that they were to keep silent about what they had seen until after he was resurrected from the grave. Then, there were to tell everyone. After the resurrection, the streams of the Holy Spirit would quickly descend and gladden the valleys below.

And that’s where we are this morning. In our time together today we’ve been with Jesus and those three disciples on the mountain top. In our minds and hearts, hopefully been flat on our faces as the disciples were. Now that we are leaving this time of worship, it is our turn to witness with our lives as well as our speech that we have been in the presence of the transfigured Christ – the Son of God, the Savior of the World. Immanuel – God with us.

 May God be praised. Amen.

 1.           Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVII, No.1, p32.

2.           Ibid… p34.

3.           Homileticsonline, retrieved 1/26/21.

4.           Dynamic Preaching, Vol XXXVII, No1, p34.

02-07-2021 The Wonder of Awe

Rev. Jay Rowland

Isaiah 40:21-31

February 7, 2021, First Presbyterian Church, Rochester MN.

This sermon utilizes commentary material, some of it verbatim, published by Doug Bratt https://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-starters/epiphany-5b-2/?type=old_testament_lectionary

THE WONDER OF AWE

Sooner or later, we all encounter situations in life which cause us to feel abandoned or defeated, or convinced that we face this life all alone … situations which tempt us to doubt that God cares about us; situations which at first seem so final or which make the present and future appear so bleak that we wonder, what’s the point of praying or trusting God anymore.

Sooner or later, we encounter situations also, moments when we feel small or insignificant in a more hopeful way. Like, for instance, a moment when we’re hushed by the brilliant colors of a sunset, or the silent mystery of the Northern Lights, or standing near the ocean or Lake Superior feeling and hearing the power of the surf.

I recall a time at my parents’ lake place many years ago, it was a completely calm, moonless night. I pushed a canoe out into the middle of the lake. I could feel it before I looked up to behold it: the vast Milky Way above me--immense and glorious. Beneath me the sound of the lake lapping at my canoe. I was in awe of the beauty enveloping me, the unmistakable feeling of a Living, Benevolent Presence—whispering to my soul a quiet assurance of God’s care, God’s goodness, God’s readiness to make a way, come what may.

Perhaps you’ve had moments like that, fleeting moments of profound peace and beauty … seeing God’s fingerprints upon Creation and feeling in awe, feeling the wonder of awe, sensing the presence of God in that moment.

This passage from the Prophet Isaiah highlights such wonder as a way to minister to suffering Israel on God’s behalf. The prophet turns to the creative power of poetry to describe God’s goodness and beauty visible in creation. Isaiah is trying to encourage a demoralized people who feel forgotten, abandoned by God. Israel was overrun by Babylon, the superpower of the ancient world. Their best and brightest neighbors and citizens were forcibly exported to live in that foreign, pagan culture year after year after year. It’s been so long they feel like life back in Jerusalem was only a dream, standing in the sacred space of the Temple worshiping together. The long years of exile in Babylon have put them into what I imagine to be a functional sort of trance--going through the motions, doing their best to tend to birthdays, anniversaries and holidays, births and deaths, meaningful milestones and rituals, etc., but always with a sick feeling in the pit of their gut.

That’s how I see it as I contend with the sick feeling in the pit of my gut, a constant companion these many long days and months of pandemic. I imagine what God’s people living in exile in Babylon must have felt, as I often do, that they were losing (or lost) whatever capacity for endurance they once had—as if running in a marathon where the finish line keeps moving further away. Did they feel, as we often have, worn down by being continually forced to compromise, continually making unbearable choices between “bad” and “not good” amid unrelenting instability and uncertainty.

Into this weariness, Isaiah boldly reframes their reality *and ours* by reminding them *and us* of God’s wonder. Isaiah assures us that God both knows about and sees everything. Everything. And, furthermore, that God helps tired, weary and weak people like the Israelites, you and me. (Bratt) If so, perhaps we are left to wonder whether or not our God is then willing to help us?! To which Isaiah again insists that God loves to help people who feel abandoned, forgotten, left behind, overlooked, overwhelmed.

While “most of us naturally want to do something to fix whatever’s wrong with our world, and with those we love and who love us. You and I, however, can’t fix [most] of the things that make us most weary and weak.” Perhaps we can find ways to temporarily revive our energy, but only God can give strength that lasts to those who “hope in the Lord.” (Bratt)

Our predicament, it seems, is waiting for God to work in our lives and world yet not passively, not with our collective head in our hands, but rather with the expectation that God is moving now to revive us and even use us to help revive our world and its people. After all, Isaiah insists that, as surely as God created the “ends of the earth,” God “increases the power of the weak.”

And we are weakened to be sure. It’s exhausting to reconcile this pandemic, and the lurking catastrophe of climate change, and the ongoing political and racial turmoil with God as described here by and through Isaiah. Or perhaps it’s more honest to admit how much our fears, our doubts, our worries can become irreconcilable with faith in our caring God.

God declares through the prophet Isaiah (here in chapter 40), that those who rely on the Lord shall find that help. If doubt clings too strongly, go beneath a starry-filled sky one night soon, maybe tonight. Look up and feel.

We know that God doesn’t simply just take away the world’s overwhelming problems. But I have learned that what God does give, in abundance, is spiritual stamina needed to endure and deal with these problems. God helps vulnerable people like us to keep on keepin’ on--to keep on living, to keep on caring, lest we tire of caring, lest we give up on caring. God lends us God’s own inextinguishable hope and energy, and tenacity, all that is needed to walk these long and winding roads of hardship without growing too weak, to run toward that moving finish line without becoming too weary to try anymore.

Which seems to me to be the most dangerous predicament of all. These crises we’re enduring can and do deplete us spiritually. The danger is that we can become so depleted or defeated that we become effectively blind to the beauty that remains ever-present all around us in so many ways, in so many beautiful people in our lives.

There is no fairy tale happy ending ahead of us. But that doesn’t mean God doesn’t care or that God refuses to help us, or that has abdicated being God. It doesn’t mean that God is being somehow being blocked or overpowered by some other force in the universe.

The prophet Isaiah refuses to engage in naiveté … no frivolous guarantees that God will suddenly just make all this suffering simply disappear. Instead, Isaiah reminds us of the sheer beauty of God, the sheer power of God’s love and God’s Creation, God’s creative power which heals and transforms ... and which has always lead us through every difficulty, every hardship, every crisis. The Creative Power and Beauty of our God who gave us the dazzling stars will make a way where there is no way visible to us in our weariness and grief.

In the meantime, we look for and remember the awe and wonder of God’s glorious creation. Remember the starry sky above, the rushing waters, the wonder of snowfall and the evocative stillness of winter nights. To know God’s character is to be in awe of God’s character. God’s presence with us, Emmanuel, “God-with-us” gives us daily provision and the hope-filled energy needed to see us through this present suffering come what may. Jesus himself will be our nourishment for the journey: given to us in this small piece of bread, with this simple cup. Together let us partake of the beauty that is God with us and follow in the wonder of awe.

01-24-2021 I Am Zebedee

Thomas J Parlette

“I Am Zebedee”

Mark 1: 14-20

1/24/21

I am Zebedee. I’m a fisherman. I own a little fishing business here in Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee. It’s a lake really, but we call it a sea, even though you can see the other shore on a clear day.

My family has lived here in this area for generations. We’ve always been fishermen. That’s one of the most common ways to make a living in Capernaum. We have some carpenters in town, some bakers, some people who make clothing and sandals, farmers and shepherds too. But my family have always been fishermen. I grew up learning the trade from my father. He taught me where the fish were likely to be at what time of day. He taught me how to cast the nets and how to haul them in without falling overboard. Nothing more embarrassing for a professional fisherman than falling overboard! He taught me how to make repairs to the boat when I needed to, and of course, how to mend the nets. We do a lot of that. After every catch is hauled in, it seems we get another tear in the net. So we spend a lot of late mornings and afternoons sitting on the beach weaving rope together and tying off knots to fix the holes in our nets. Most days it’s a pretty nice way to spend your time – sunshine, a breeze coming in off the water, something worthwhile to do. I spent a lot of time talking to my father and my brothers about the ins and outs of life while we sat on that beach.

So as I grew up and my father handed the business over to me, I was thrilled when my own sons were old enough to start working with me. They started coming out on the water when they were pretty young – they were always big, strong boys. They were forever wrestling and rough-housing – you know how boys are. They had a bit of a reputation around Capernaum. “Loud” and “Boisterous” would be the words most people would use. And they’re boyhood friend, Simon, was the same way. The three of them together would rush head long into things, not giving a thought to the consequences. More than once I had to give them a stern talking to – but they were good boys. Their hearts were in the right place.

I loved those days when they were just learning the trade with me. I passed down my knowledge to them just like me father had down for me. How to keep your eyes on the water to see the shadows that might mean a school of fish, how to position your partner on the hillside on shore to see what you could not, how to recognize a change in the wind or the clouds that might mean a storm was rolling in. That was an important skill on the Sea of Galilee – weather could change in a flash and all of a sudden a squall would roll in and you are just hanging on in the midst of three feet white caps. That might not sound like much, but in our little boat, that was a big deal! It was easy to fall overboard or capsize. Things happen fast on the Sea, even if it is really a lake.

But my favorite times were onshore, sitting around a little fire, eating some fresh caught fish, usually carp or tilapia. We would mend our nets, rib each other about the events on the water and laugh a lot. Every so often things would get serious and I would talk to them about the young ladies of the village – their mother and I always had our eyes peeled for who might be a suitable wife for our sons. We would talk about the future and how one day the business would go to them. I remember they would glance at each other and look away without saying a word. I never said anything to them, but I always had a vague suspicion that they might want something more than a simple life on the water in my beloved Capernaum. Just a feeling I sometimes had.

Then one day, there he was. I had heard stories about this teacher who had created quite a stir in a synagogue in Nazareth, about 30 miles away. He had just recently come to town. We were all a bit wary of this guy – who was he? Why was he here? What did he want? And then… there he was… by the shore of the Sea.

His first stop was up the beach a bit where we could overhear him talking to Simon and his brother, Andrew. Sound carries around the lake, it’s easier to hear what everyone is saying. I remember what he said like it was yesterday – “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”

Fish for people – yea right, what does that even mean? I scoffed a little under my breath at this teacher they called Jesus. But then I could see him coming our way. We were sitting there in our boat, working on our nets with a couple of other guys from the village I had hired for the day. Jesus says “Follow me…” My boys glanced at each other, took a beat – and then put down the net, hopped out of the boat and started walking down the beach with Simon, Andrew and Jesus.

I couldn’t believe it! I was flabbergasted. At first, I couldn’t say a word. I stood up in the boat and shouted after them – “Where do you think you’re going! You can’t just up and leave! What about the business! I need you.” But they just kept walking.

At first, I was angry. How could they do this! I could understand Simon being taken in by a smooth talking prophet – he was always a little rash – but I thought my boys had more sense than that. I thought they wanted to take over my business, make a good life for themselves. Guess I was wrong. After my anger subsided, I just felt sad. I felt abandoned. I was afraid of what the future held for my sons.

I felt like that for a couple of days. I lost my appetite. I couldn’t bring myself to go fishing. I couldn’t do much of anything. I would just sit outside the house and whittle a piece of wood.

One day, a friend of mine from the village stopped by to see me. He had heard what had happened on the beach – everybody in the village knew, everybody talks so everyone knows everybody’s business. He knew I was having a hard time with this, so he stopped by to see me.

He told me about a dream he once had. He dreamed he was laying on his deathbed, close to dying. All around his bed were ghostly figures representing all the potential life choices he could have chosen, but didn’t. Ghosts of wasted potential. Gifts and talents and opportunities that he had never acted on. And these ghosts were angry. They were angry because their presence had been wasted on him. All that potential – wasted! One of the ghosts glared down at him and said, “We came to you because you could have brought us to life. And now we go to the grave together.”(1)

I thought to myself, what a terrifying dream!

And then my friend suggested, “Maybe the boys felt those ghosts hovering around them and they didn’t want to waste this opportunity to follow Jesus.”

I didn’t sleep much that night. Or the night after. But then one morning, I took a long walk in the countryside to clear my head. Maybe my friend had a point. Maybe James and his little brother John needed to go off and take a new opportunity, a new adventure to fulfill their potential. Maybe they felt this prophet Jesus met a need they needed to fill.

I was mulling this over when I met a young traveler on the road. We stopped on the path, sat down in the shade of an olive tree and shared a drink of water. He was on his way to Jerusalem to find a job and make a life for himself. His family were farmers and not doing well, so he wanted to go into business in Jerusalem, maybe become a merchant or something, so he could send money home to his family. Then he said something I’ll never forget. Something I needed to hear as I pondered my son’s life choices. This young traveler said, “A good provider is One who leaves.”(2)

Initially that made no sense to me. I had always thought that a good provider stays – a good provider sticks around, stays with what he knows, plays it safe and makes the family business work. A good provider doesn’t leave – a good provider stays put.

But this young man pointed out that he wasn’t running away from his life – he was running towards something better. It was risky, yes. It was going to be rough and uncomfortable for a while. He was probably going to be in over his head for a time, living out of his comfort zone. But he was confident that road would lead him somewhere better. And if he wanted to be a good provider, this is what he needed to do.

We parted company – he went his way, I went mine. I thought about what he said as I walked home to Capernaum. A good provider is one who leaves. The idea stuck in my head. Then I thought, maybe that applies to being a disciple as well. When you commit to following someone, to be a disciple, you commit to leave your work to serve somewhere else. Maybe a good disciple is also one who leaves the comfortable for the uncomfortable. Maybe a good disciple is the one who leaves the familiar for the unfamiliar. Maybe the good disciple is one who leaves?

That’s what my boys James and John had done, along with their buddies Simon and Andrew. They left what they knew to follow one who offered them more.

I felt much more at peace when I got home. I slept better than I had in days. And when I got up in the morning, I was finally ready to get on the water again and catch some fish.

By the way, the boys did come back to Capernaum with Jesus and a few other guys. They stayed for awhile, living out of Simon’s house. Jesus did some pretty amazing things. He was a great teacher, I will give him that. And he was a gifted healer as well. He healed Simon’s mother-in-law and a bunch of other people around town, including one local guy who was possessed by a demon.

But then they left, as good disciples do. And they travelled all over Galilee. I will miss my sons, James and John. But I understand their choice and I wish them well. They go with my blessing.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Based on a story in Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVII, No. 1, p19.

2. Based on a story in HomileticsOnline, retrieved 12/28/2020.

01-17-2021 A Village with a Poor Reputation

Thomas J Parlette

“A Village with a Poor Reputation”

John 1: 43-51

1/17/21

According to a recent report from the BBC News, inhabitants of a village in northern Nigeria are celebrating to renaming of their village. The old name of the town was “Area of Idiots.” I understand the desire for a name change. So the new name of the village is “Area of Plenty”- definitely an improvement.

The local emir announced the name change after residents complained that they had been mocked for years because of that name. Who could blame them – would you want to tell people you come from “Area of Idiots.” Of course not. The village had gotten this unfortunate name because there is a river that flows near town called the Idiotic River. It is not clear why the river has that name – but that’s where the name of the village originally came from.(1)

Being a naturally curious person, I did a little research on my google machine and found some other interesting, and unfortunate names for towns right here in the United States. How would like to come from Nothing, Arizona? Or Nowhere, Colorado? Or Hell for Certain, Kentucky? How would you like to tell people you are moving to Boogertown, North Carolina? Or Boring, Oregon? All real places.

But my favorite of these unusual town names is probably Uncertain, Texas. The rumor is that in the 1960’s, a public official filed the paperwork with the State of Texas to move from being a village to a town, and he wrote in “Uncertain” next to the name, because a vote hadn’t been taken yet on the new name. But the State official in charge of such things didn’t read the application very closely, so that became the official name – Uncertain, Texas. An unfortunate name – but it could have been worse. He could have written in “To Be Determined,” I guess. Not as catchy as Uncertain. Still people might wonder if anything good can come from Uncertain.

In our scripture lesson for today, a man named Philip has just encountered Jesus and has been bowled over by him. He, in turn, reaches out to a friend, Nathanael, and tells him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote – Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

“Nazareth?” Nathanael scoffs. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

Obviously, Nathanael wasn’t very impressed with Nazareth. While it doesn’t have an embarrassing name like Boogertown or Boring, there was obviously nothing impressive about Nazareth. And yet, Nazareth was chosen by God as the village where God’s own Son would spend his childhood. That’s the kind of thing God loves to do – take an unimpressive village or an unimpressive person and do extraordinary things through them.

On some level, Nazareth deserved its poor reputation. Remember when Jesus preached his first sermon here? In Luke’s gospel, he tells us that it was in the synagogue, on the Sabbath. Jesus stood up to read and opened the scroll to the prophet Isaiah and read, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the captives, recovery of sight for the blind. To set the oppressed free and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then he rolled up the scroll and sat down. At first, everyone was very impressed with Jesus. But then the sermon took a twist – Jesus said to them “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in his hometown. I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah’s time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them, but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon. And there were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed – only Naaman the Syrian.”

We’re not sure why Jesus spoke in such an insulting way to his hometown synagogue – maybe there were lingering rumors about his birth, maybe he was teased or bullied as a child. But whatever the reason may have been, the people in the synagogue were aghast. They were furious at what Jesus had to say. They drove him out of town, right to the edge of a cliff, where they intended to throw him over the edge.

I’m sure there are a lot of churches that have been tempted to throw their pastor off a cliff, but fortunately, I’ve never heard of it happening. And I’m happy to say, it didn’t happen in Nazareth that day either. Jesus just walked right through the crowd and went on his way.

Luke doesn’t include many details to explain why this confrontation occurred, but it’s hard to feel sorry for Nazareth. There were obviously some hot heads in town. Throwing someone off a cliff over an unpopular sermon is a bit extreme in any time and place. Still, there must have been some positive things about Nazareth for Mary and Joseph to settle down there – small town life does have its advantages.

One of our takeaways from that story is the fact that Jesus didn’t please everyone. Not everyone who heard Jesus or encountered him in the street was thrilled with everything he did and said. Just goes to show that if you think you can sail through life with no one criticizing you, no opposition, no one making catty remarks about you every once in awhile – well, eventually you are in for a rude awakening. Not even Jesus could please everyone.

The important thing was that he stayed true to his values. Do you think everyone in town agreed with him when he said turn the other cheek? Do you think people liked it when he used Samaritans – the very people his neighbors despised the most – as heroes in any of his stories? Do you think everybody liked his teachings on wealth? No they did not.

And that’s still true today. In many ways, Paul is easier to preach on, he’s far less controversial. Let the preacher stay in the Epistles or the Old Testament. Let’s not struggle with Jesus’s teachings. They clash too much with our culture’s views on life.

But Jesus stayed true to his values – even when people got upset. Even when they threatened to throw him off a cliff or nailed him to cross. Now you expect that of Jesus, don’t you? He is the Son of God – you expect him to practice what he preaches, right. But the question this text asks – do you expect it from yourself as well?

There is a classic story told of a Baptist church that was seeking to hire a new pastor. In Baptist churches a search committee visits several churches to listen to prospective pastors preach, and then invites the pastor that best meets their needs to come preach for the whole congregation. Then the congregation votes on whether to hire the pastor – very similar to our call process in the Presbyterian Church in a lot of ways.

This particular church invited a pastor so chosen to come preach for them. Afterwards, a vote was taken and the committee informed the pastor that he was hired. Later, one of the members said to the pastor the vote was “almost unanimous.” This alarmed the newly hired pastor, and he asked, “What was the vote?” and he was told 230 “yes” and 2 votes “no”.

Well, this so disturbed the new pastor that he spent the first six months trying to find out who the two no votes were. When he finally figured it out, he spent the next six month trying to please those two people. At the end of the year, the church voted again and fired the new pastor. This time the vote was 230 to fire him and to votes to keep him. You can probably guess who wanted to keep that pastor – the two he worked so hard to please – which, of course upset everyone else in the congregation.(2)

That pastor was not called to make two people happy. He was called to minister to everyone in that congregation. If he had stayed true to his values and treated the two dissenters like he treated everyone else, then his ministry would have been more productive.

Jesus stayed true to his values. He was sent by God to demonstrate a new way of living which he termed the Kingdom of God. Jesus’ goal was plant the seeds of that Kingdom in every heart. He never wandered from that path. And because Jesus stayed true, one third of the world calls him Lord.

It’s interesting how this story ends. Nathanael discovers just what can come out of Nazareth.

Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one that Moses wrote about in the Law and about whom the prophets wrote – Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

          “Nazareth?! Can anything good come from there.”

          “Come and see,” said Philip.

          When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, “Here is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

          That’s interesting. With just a glance, Jesus sizes up Nathanael and recognizes that here is a person who is true to his values. Jesus appreciates people of character and integrity.

          “How do you know me?” asks Nathanael.

          “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

          And this is enough for Nathanael to take a step beyond simple integrity. He commits to a purpose. He declares, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are king of Israel.”

          And with that, Nathanael becomes a follower of Jesus. He discovered who Jesus really was and he wanted to follow him. Jesus already knew everything about Nathanael. He knew he wanted Nathanael on his team. All Nathanael had to do was “Yes.”

Apparently something good CAN from Nazareth.

And for that, may God be praised. Amen.

1.                Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVII, No. 1, p15.

2.                Ibid… p17

01-10-2021 Baptism Identity

Baptism Identity

Rev. Jay Rowland

Mark 1:4-11

Baptism of the Lord, January 10, 2021, First Presbyterian Church, Rochester MN.

This sermon utilizes material, some of it verbatim, published by John J. Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus (pp. 19-21), and by Peter Lockhart, "Jesus’ Baptism" Reflections on Faith and Spirituality, 2012, https://revplockhart.blogspot.com/2012/01/?m=0

As has happened too often in recent months, something upsetting has happened … again.  Something has seized our attention, the attention of our nation and the attention of many around the world.

The scene in Washington DC on Wednesday, the day of Epiphany, diverted our attention from anything else we were concerned about.  As if the ongoing crisis of the global pandemic and deadly resurgence weren’t enough, … as if previous months of racial and civil and political upheaval were not already overwhelming … what we saw on Wednesday afternoon and evening was indeed an Epiphany of sorts: surreal images of an angry mob invading the Capitol building, smashing and grabbing and fighting their way past police … storming the floors of the Senate and the House of Representatives in an attempted coup.  

Anything I had planned to say prior to Wednesday now seems somewhat untimely, like whatever I say will sound something like, “Meanwhile, back in Nazareth of Galilee ... “ and that feels naive … unworldly.

But perhaps whatever’s “going on” back in Scripture compared with the chaos going on around us is not so untimely. Perhaps it’s critically important. Perhaps the Gospel comes to us for just such a time as this, able to powerfully re-calibrate our attention to reality through the presentation of the overarching Story within which--under which--our story is forever unfolding. And so it is that …

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  And people from the whole (Judean) countryside and all the people (of Jerusalem) were going out to (John), and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. … In those days, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.  And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.  And a voice came from heaven, “you are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Mark 1:4-5;9-11

The importance of Mark’s brief description of what was then and continues to be a world-changing event is somewhat camouflaged, hidden between the lines of what Mark presumes his ancient audience understood implicitly about identity and kinship and matters of paternity and community. 

To help us see what they saw and understood, I turn to Biblical scholar John Pilch and his work, The Cultural World of Jesus (quotation marks below indicate words belonging to Pilch). Pilch points out something I never previously saw: that when Jesus goes to John (to the Jordan River) just outside of Jerusalem this in itself is almost literally a matter of life and death:

“In the ancient Mediterranean world (because) it was impossible to prove who was the actual father of a child ... only when a father acknowledged a baby as his own did that boy or girl truly become a (legitimate) son or daughter.” 

“And we know that even though Mary was not pregnant by Joseph, when Joseph agrees to wed her, he publicly acknowledges that Jesus is his son and embeds Jesus into his family to give Jesus honorable standing and a secure setting in which to live.“ … In the ancient Mediterranean world, family of origin is everything. An Individual has no identity or meaningful existence apart from family. “… a person not embedded in a family is as good as dead.”

And so when Jesus leaves behind family and village to go to John in Jerusalem he is taking a great risk. He is, practically speaking, cutting himself off from his family, abolishing his prior identity, declaring himself dead for all intents and purposes in society.

“The circumstances of the baptism of Jesus provide an immediate answer to this startling situation. A voice calling out from the torn-open heavens declares Jesus’ identity as the Son of God, beloved and highly pleasing to God, (the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth …)”. The term torn-open heavens isn’t fanciful language, it declares that this is a public event. Otherwise this experience is merely personal to Jesus, meaningless to wider society.”

 “But Mark does not mention crowds or any witnesses. So who else hears God’s declaration? Who will acknowledge and confirm this public claim to honorable status for Jesus? Mark … expects those who hear and read the gospel to recognize the exalted source of Jesus’ honor and provide the required confirmation. That is, his original followers, and so on down to you and I who are expected to recognize Jesus’ identity as the Beloved and pleasing Son of God.”

 And so, Jesus’ baptism of repentance is not a baptism for his sake but for ours, on our behalf, for our sake. Jesus does need to turn back to God, we do. … This is why our own baptisms ... are so important: because they signify that our lives are drawn into Jesus’ own baptism and our lives are now shaped by being baptized people who in Christ and by God’s grace are turned back to God, not through our action of turning towards God but [through] Jesus.  (Lockhart)

 It is not for Jesus’ own sake that the Spirit is seen descending like a dove but for all who testify to God’s love. The Holy Spirit shares in the life of God just as Jesus the Christ accommodates the Spirit into his own fleshly life. It is in the sharing of this life that the Spirit of God is then poured out after Jesus’ death into his disciples and then among all peoples drawing all into Jesus and by the Spirit into sharing in God’s own life. (Lockhart)

 What is occurring in and through Jesus is no less than the re-creation of the world! …  just as the Spirit hovered over the waters at the moment of creation (Genesis 1:1-5) so too the Spirit hovered over Mary’s womb … and now today over Jesus’ baptism.  (Lockhart)

This is the story of God’s decision and action in and through Jesus Christ to renew Creation. It is a story bigger than any of our personal experiences yet compassionate and aware enough to draw in our personal experiences into that grand narrative of God’s love for the world. (Lockhart)  Including our experience of living during a global pandemic, witnessing an attempted coup in Washington DC after months and months of political and civil and racial upheaval…

Jesus’ baptism and the descent of the Holy Spirit point to the reality of God. It is a promise of God’s intention not simply for those who may have seen or heard that John baptized Jesus but for you and me and all of God’s Creation.

The act of Jesus’ baptism is a decisive act revealing God’s love and grace for all the world.  In the same way that Jesus’ baptism declares God’s love and action in the world, so too our gathering as baptized people here today--be it digital or physical--declares that God is in charge, keeping the world with all its calamity and chaos.

For we live in a world that continues to live and act as if there is no God.  And so, our gathering and the gathering of congregations everywhere—whether it be digital or physical--declare by Jesus’ repentance our resistance against the forces of chaos in our midst.  Our worship today celebrates the promise and hope for all creation: Everything shall be made new! We are people of this new creation as we have a foretaste of all nations at peace with God and one another. (Lockhart)

In this, the church is that which it signifies, it is the beginning of the new creation. We did not and do not make this new creation; we cannot offer any word to the world; nor any other salvation to the world other than one already given in Jesus’ life, death, resurrection and ascension. (Lockhart)

We are to be a light to the nations not because we behave or live as people returned to God but because we live acknowledging the One who turned back to God on our behalf and in whose life we share by the power of the Holy Spirit.  (Lockhart)

Our purpose in being the church is none other this: to point away from ourselves and the powers and principalities of this world and point instead to the Author of our Salvation who has made us a light among the nations, just as the Israelites were to be a light among the nations. We exist as the church not for our own ends, not as ordinary social gatherings (Lockhart) … but to remind the world that God is and God has a future for the whole creation even when all we can see is chaos and human arrogance and death and despair.

In Jesus God has redeemed the world and has begun a new creation in which by grace and through the Holy Spirit you and I are already citizens!

Remember this as God with Holy wisdom and the Spirit guides us all into the living of these days.

01-03-2021 Don't Forget the Best

Thomas J Parlette

“Don’t Forget the Best”

Isaiah 60: 1-6

1/3/21

There is an ancient Scottish legend that tells the story of a shepherd boy tending a few straggling sheep on the side of a mountain. One day, as he cared for the sheep, he saw at his feet a beautiful flower – one that was more beautiful than any he had ever seen in his life. He knelt down and scooped up the flower very carefully and held it up close to gat a good look.

As he held the flower close to his face, suddenly he heard a noise and he looked up to see the great stone mountain opening up right before his eyes. As the sun began to shine on the inside of the mountain, he saw beautiful gems and precious metals sparkling in the sunlight.

With the flower in his hands, he walked inside. Laying the flower down, he began to gather all the gold and silver and diamonds he could carry. Finally, with his arms full, he turned and began to walk out of the great cavern, and suddenly a voice said, “Don’t forget the best.”

Thinking perhaps he had overlooked some great treasure, he turned around and picked up even more. His pockets were overflowing and his arms were straining to hold all the valuables as he walked slowly and carefully out of the mountainous vault. And again, he heard that voice, “Don’t forget the best.”

But this time he knew he could not carry another thing, so he walked outside. And as soon as his feet crossed the threshold, the treasure turned to dust. He looked around just in time to see the great stone mountain closing its doors again. And then he heard the voice for a third time – “You forgot the best. For the beautiful flower is the key to the vault of the mountain.”(1)

As we celebrate this first Sunday of the New Year, we don’t want to forget the best.

We don’t want to forget the joys we have shared – admittedly in a different way than we’re used to in this age of Covid. For some of you, there are great things to remember about this year. Maybe there was a wedding, a graduation, a new child or grandchild… There are many such events that even in a year as challenging as this last one, we will want to remember and cherish for a lifetime.

And of course, there are some events that we would just as soon forget – the closing of businesses, financial hardships, sickness, death, a divorce, the loss of a job… the list could go on. The late Charles Kuralt once observed, “There are three kinds of memories – good, bad and convenient.”(2)

He was right, of course. We don’t want to remember everything. There is an old Japanese proverb that goes like this: “My skirt with tears is always wet – I have forgotten to forget.” There are some things that ought to be forgotten. Certainly the hardships brought on by this pandemic is something we’d all like to forget.

Fortunately, our faith helps us deal with the good and the bad in life. And, as we make our way out of the Christmas season and into the year 2021, we may want to remember that story about the shepherd boy and mountain vault – we don’t want to forget the best.

John Wesley, the spiritual father of the Methodists, said on his deathbed: “The best is God with us.” The biblical word for that, of course, is Emmanuel.

God with us – what great news to take into the New Year. God is with us. Our problems and inadequacies seem to fade in the light of that staggering truth. God is with us – is there any obstacle in this world that we cannot surmount if that be true? God has come down. God is with us in the Christ Child of Bethlehem, and that is reason to rejoice. What Isaiah prophesied long ago has come about – “Arise and shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you… the wealth of the nations shall come to you. A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.” The Lord has come, the prophecy has come true – and there is reason to rejoice.

Isaiah’s vision of the glorious restoration of Jerusalem was probably originally intended to inspire returnees from exile, but for our modern ears, it is no less glorious. The Lord has come. God has come down. The prophecy has come true – and there is reason to be radiant, to rejoice and offer praise to God!

On May 9th, 1961, the Dave Brubeck Quartet recorded a short piece at the Thirtieth Street Studio in New York. It is called “Charles Matthew Hallelujah,” a tune that burst into being the day Dave and Iola Brubeck’s sixth child was born.

That day Brubeck had stopped by the hospital in Norwalk, Connecticut, on his way to a recording session in the city. When he arrived at the hospital, he learned that Iola had just given birth to their grand-finale son. When Brubeck finally arrived at the studio, he told the band the good news, went directly to the piano, and started playing.

Light notes announced the birth. The saxophone, bass and drums responded with joy. The song was inspired and recorded on the spot, but listening to it today we might think every note was meticulously placed and well rehearsed.

When she first heard the piece, Iola Brubeck said it sounded as if each band member was presenting her newborn with a gift. Three Kings of Jazz at the time – Paul Desmond on saxophone, Eugene Wright on bass, and Joe Morello on the drums – captured the joy of Epiphany that Isaiah foretold – “arise, Shine, your light has come… rejoice and praise the Lord.”(3)

A story told by the great Scottish preacher, Dr. Murdo Ewen MacDonald, captures the excitement in another way.

MacDonald was a prisoner of war in World War II, captured by the Germans. MacDonald learned about the invasion of Normandy and the events of D-Day in a most unforgettable way. Early in the morning as American shook him awake, shouting into his ears, “The Scotsman wants to see you – it’s terribly important.”

MacDonald ran over to the barbed wire fence that separated the British and the American camps, where a man named MacNeil, who was in touch with the BBC by underground radio, was waiting for him. He spoke just two words in Gaelic that translated to “They have come!”

MacDonald then ran back to the American camp and began waking up the soldiers. He said again and again, “They have come! They have come!” The reaction was incredible. Men jumped up and started to shout. They hugged each other. They rolled around on the ground. The Germans thought they were crazy. They were still prisoners – nothing had changed. But the soldiers knew that something was different. Their light had come. Allied troops had landed. Their deliverers were on the way. They have come!(4)

Soon after his birth, when the time was right, Jesus’ parents took him to the Temple in Jerusalem where they were met by an elderly priest named Simeon. Simeon sang out just as those soldiers had – “He has come! Now I can die in peace. He has come.” The best is, God is with us – our deliverer has come. A voice says to us today, “Don’t forget the best.”

Sir Walter Scott wrote an interesting novel which he titled “Old Mortality.” It was the last novel he ever wrote. In this book, he describes a character who lived in the middle of the 18th century, and he was nicknamed Old Mortality.

Old Mortality had a unique, but noble hobby which he had taken up late in his life. He rode about the countryside on his old horse, with a bag of tools and searched out the graves of the Old Scottish Covenanters, who had died a martyr’s death for their faith. The Covenanters were a Scottish Presbyterian movement that played an important role in the history of Scotland, and to a lesser extent that of England and Ireland during the 17th century.

When Old Mortality, whose given name was Robert Paterson, came upon one of these graves, he would scrape the moss from the tombstone. Where the carving had grown dim with wind and weather, he would sharpen the lines with his chisel and hammer. Where the stones had fallen over or disappeared, he would reset them.

It was only a hobby, but one which made him quite a character in the lowlands of Scotland, where it was said that not a single cemetery could be found in which his work had not been done. He wanted to make sure that no one forgot what these men and women had done.(5)

We should not forget either – we should not forget what God has done in Jesus Christ. Do not forget the best.

One final word as we enter this new year: As we remember the best perhaps we should make a new commitment in our own lives to seek our best and give our all – because after all, Jesus gave his all for all of us.

In 1907, in his parting address to the National Council of Congregational Churches, Washington Gladden urged his peers to see the church as a manifestation of Christ. For Gladden, one of the chief reasons for Christ’s life and for the life of the church was “to make men and women feel that the great joy of life… is the joy of service; to populate this world with a race of people whose central purpose shall be, not to GET as they can, but to GIVE as much as they can – this is what Jesus came into the world to do.”(6)

To give all we can… in praise of what God has given us. That’s what Isaiah says. That’s what the Kings did. That is our example – to give all we can in praise of what God has given us.

Dr. Leonard Sweet, in his book, Giving Blood, tells a wonderful story about one of the finest performers who ever graced America’s stages – the incomparable Judy Garland. He tells about a night in 1961 when 3,100 people packed Carnegie Hall to be a part of what is now known as “the greatest concert ever given.” Among those present for “Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall” were some names etched into our memories – Carol Channing, Rock Hudson, Spencer Tracy, Henry Fonda and Julie Andrews.

Everyone present that night knew that Judy Garland was the consummate performer – that she would sing until exhausted and depleted. Garland felt she owed everything she had to her audience.

In this concert she sang a remarkable 26 songs – giving her all in every one. A live album was made of her performance that went on to win 5 Grammys.

But Leonard Sweet was struck by something Garland did just before walking out on stage. She repeated to herself, and to anyone else who happened to be in earshot, an unusual mantra. “It was not the time honored ‘Break a leg’,” says Sweet. “But rather, it was this – ‘Time to give blood’.”(7)

Time to give blood. Certainly, if anyone ever “gave blood,” it was Jesus himself. And he did it for us. As we leave this Christmas season and begin a new year, may God help us not to forget the best – that God is with us. God who came to us in Jesus Christ and gave all for us, so we can give all we can to the world.

As we gather at the table today, let that be our prayer.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVI, No.4, p75.

2. Ibid… p75.

3. Andrew Nagy-Benson, Feasting on the Word, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p194.

4. Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVI, No.4, p77.

5. Ibid… p77.

6. Andrew Nagy-Benson, Feasting on the Word, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p198.

7. Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVI, No.4, p78.

12-24-2020 PIctures of Christmas

Thomas J Parlette

“Pictures of Christmas”

Luke 2: 1-20

12/24, Christmas Eve

Tonight is a special night, as we await a special gift. For some that gift comes from Santa Claus. It used to be that you would mail a letter to Santa with a list of gifts you would like to receive. Macy’s department store used to be very helpful in this effort as they had those big red Santa mailboxes in all their stores – maybe they still do, it’s been awhile since I’ve been to a Macy’s.

But in our modern era, kids have taken to writing emails to Santa – much more efficient, although I don’t know what kind of internet access Santa gets at the North Pole. The means of communication might be different, but the requests remain remarkably similar.

For instance, 7 year-old Jon writes, “I’m sorry Santa, but I don’t have a chimney. But I’ll leave the cat flap unlocked for you, but watch out for the litter box!” Good advice.

Eight year-old Christian writes, “Mommy and Daddy say I haven’t been very good these past few days. How bad can I be before I lose my parents?” Good question. Future lawyer right there.

Or this, from Bruce, age 7, “I’m sorry for putting all that Ex-Lax in your milk last year, but I wasn’t sure you were real. Boy, my Dad was really mad.”(1) I bet he was.

Years ago, there was a cartoon in the Family Circus comic strip. A little girl is depicted standing on a chair and looking down into an open drawer. Behind her is a lovely creche’ scene. It’s obviously Christmas. But in the caption the little girl calls out, “We forgot to put the baby Jesus in the manger on Christmas Eve, Mom. He’s still in the drawer.”(2)

I hope that’s not the case in your household. I hope you haven’t left Jesus in the drawer. On this night, some gather in hopes of a gift from Santa. But we gather to celebrate the gift we receive from God – the gift of God’s Son, Jesus Christ.

I sometimes wish I could have been there on that first Christmas with my camera – don’t you? We could have filled our Facebook pages for sure.

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was Governor of Syria. And everyone went to their own town to register.”

Ah, yes, Caesar Augustus – that would be our first picture for this night. He’s the one who gets the ball rolling. Augustus assumed he was the most powerful man in the whole world – and he probably was. Roman coins even bore a graven image of Caesar Augustus. A caption on the coin read – “divi filius”, meaning “Son of God.” Romans believed that Augustus, the first of the Roman Emperors, was divine – conceived by a serpent as Augustus’ mother lay asleep in the Temple of Apollo.(3)

Augustus had thousands of Romans bow down at his name, tremble at his power: but he didn’t have a clue that in a few short years his reign would come to an end. Meanwhile, a boy was about to be born whose reign would last forever – King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Augustus had no idea that this baby born in the small town of Bethlehem in Judea was the true “divi filius”- Son of God.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Augustus played his part. It was his decree that put Mary and Joseph in the right place at the right time – in Bethlehem, to fulfill an ancient prophecy about the birth of the Messiah.

Augustus accomplished many fine things as the first Roman Emperor, among them the Pax Romana – Roman Peace, a largely peaceful period of two centuries in which Rome imposed order on a world long torn with conflict. He built roads and vastly expanded the empire. In fact, ironically, this allowed the spread of the Christian faith as the world became much more accessible thanks to the Roman network of Roadways. Augustus thought he was the most powerful person on Earth, in control of the whole world – and yet God was using him to accomplish the Divine mission of giving the world the gift of Jesus. That’s our first picture of Christmas – Caesar Augustus.

Our second picture is quite the contrast. It is the humble stable in which the newborn baby lay. It has always fascinated Christians that when God came down to Earth, God chose such simple surroundings.

In his book, The Jesus I Never Knew, Philip Yancey tells of a visit Queen Elizabeth made to the United States. He says that reporters delighted in spelling out the logistics involved: for example, “her four thousand pounds of luggage included two outfits for every occasion”… For some reason she carried 40 pints of plasma – just in case she was in an accident, I suppose. Most unusual of all, the list included “white leather toilet seat covers. She also brought her own hairdresser, two valets and a host of attendees. A brief royal visit to a foreign country can easily cost twenty million dollars.”

Yancey adds, “In meek contrast, God’s visit to earth took place in animal shelter with no attendants present and nowhere to lay the newborn King but a feed trough. Indeed, the event that divided history and even our calendars, into two parts may have had more animal than human witnesses… ‘How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given’.”(4)

Professor Malcolm Tolbert once wrote an article asking and answering why Jesus was born in a stable. “Had Jesus been born in a mansion on the hilltop, few people would have felt welcome in His presence. But he was born in a barn – anyone can go there. The lowly shepherds did not hesitate to enter a stable and bow before the child. Then and now, anyone willing to humble themselves may come to Jesus.”(5)

So our second picture of Christmas is that simple stable with cattle and sheep and a humble couple with their newborn son.

The third picture is of shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flock by night. I’d like to capture that moment when the angel appears and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. What a moment! And the angel says perhaps the most important thing for us to hear – “Don’t be afraid – I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today, in the town of David, a Savior has been born! He is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you – You will find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

And then suddenly you would need a wide angle lens, as a great company of angels appear, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.”

It’s interesting that the first thing that an angel invariably says in these biblical encounters is “Don’t be afraid.” Fear is perhaps the most common emotion we have – fear of the unknown, fear of death, fear of failure, fear of losing your job, fear of doing the wrong thing and embarrassing yourself - the list goes on and on, humans are a fearful breed.

The angels proclaiming a message of “Do not be afraid”, is one we all need to hear and take to heart.

Some of you may have the tradition of watching the popular TV special A Charlie Brown Christmas each year. Thankfully, Apple, who owns the copyright now, gave permission for it to be shown on network TV this year. James Moore, in his book Christmas Gifts That Won’t Break, tells about a beautiful moment toward the end of the program – a moment I’ve seen many times, but never really saw in this light before.

The scene, of course, is Linus, the fearful kid known for his security blanket that he carries with him everywhere he goes. Linus calls for a spotlight, and begins to recite the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke – but he adds a little bit of drama when he comes to the part about the shepherds receiving the news of Jesus’ birth. When he quotes the angel saying, “Fear not,” Linus tosses his blanket aside and finishes the story with both hands free so he can give gesture to the amazing announcement of the gift of love in the baby Jesus. I never really noticed that before. James Moore writes, “There are many messages of Christmas, but there is one that everybody in the story received as still receives today. And it is – Fear not. Don’t be afraid. It seems that everybody needed to hear it.”(6)

We do need to hear it. The world can be a scary place. But the world is far less scary to those who trust in the message of the Christ Child.

Three pictures – Caesar Augustus, the unsuspecting pawn in God’s grand plan; a humble stable where the true “divi filius,”- Son of God - was born; and the shepherds out in the field, watching over their flock, when an angel arrives to bring the Good News of Great Joy.

The Son of God has come to dwell with us. For to us, a child is born.

May God be praised. And shall we join together in prayer….

1. Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVI, No. 4, pg71.

2. Ibid… pg71.

3. Ibid…pg72

4. Ibid… pg72-73.

5. Ibid… pg73.

6. Ibid… pg74

12-20-2020 When Angels Come Calling

Thomas J Parlette

“When Angels Come Calling”

Luke 1: 26-38

12/20/20

In our Gospel passage for today, the angel Gabriel comes calling with an announcement to a young girl named Mary that will change the world forever. We wonder a lot about angels. I know several people who are convinced that they’ve had angelic encounters. I have no reason not to believe them. After all, nothing is impossible with God.

But we wonder all the same. Consider these interesting thoughts about angels from some young people aged 5-9.

Gregory, 5 years old has this to say, “I only know the names of two angels – Hark and Harold.”

Olive, aged 9 says, “Everybody’s got it all wrong. Angels don’t wear halos anymore. I forget why, but scientists are working on it.”

And Matthew, also 9 years old, reminds us that “It’s not easy to become an angel! First, you die. Then you go to heaven, and then there’s still the flight training to go through. And then you got to agree to wear those angel clothes.”(1)

But today, we are concerned with one angel in particular – not Hark, or Harold, but rather Gabriel. Long ago, in a remote corner of this earth, God broke into our world through the voice of an angel named Gabriel. Gabriel came to a young woman named Mary.

As was the custom of the day, Mary’s parents made all the arrangements for her marriage. At the proper age she would marry Joseph, the local carpenter. The negotiations were made between Mary’s parents and Joseph’s parents with the couple having little say in the matter. Since Nazareth was a small village, Mary probably knew Joseph quite well already. Perhaps she had seen him working in his shop.

Then came the day when Mary and Joseph were betrothed to each other. Betrothal was a period of one year and was as binding as marriage. It was so official that, during this year, if Joseph died, Mary would be considered a widow.

One day as Mary was probably daydreaming about her upcoming marriage, she looked up and saw an angel standing before her. She was startled and a bit frightened. Mary never in a million years dreamed of being visited by an angel.

“Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you,” Gabriel said to a frightened Mary. What an unusual way to begin – “Greetings favored one!” Why was she favored? Mary was just an ordinary girl, barely a teenager. There was nothing special about her, not that we know of. She didn’t come from a wealthy family. She wasn’t listed in the society pages of the Nazareth Times. No one outside of Nazareth had ever heard of her. She was just your average young woman.

Mary was confused, and Gabriel sensed her fear. He tried to comfort her, reassure her, “Don’t be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God.”

Mary didn’t realize it at the time, but God had chosen her for a very special purpose. “You will conceive and give birth to a son,” said Gabriel, “and you are to call him Jesus.” Mary was mystified. What could all this mean?

Mary listened to the angel’s words. “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Still, Mary was bewildered – who wouldn’t be. “How can this be,” She asked, “since I am a virgin?”

And Gabriel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the Holy One to be born will be called the Son of God.”

To satisfy her confusion about bearing a child and yet being a virgin, Gabriel reminded her that her cousin Elizabeth was far past the child-bearing age, but she was six months pregnant. This was God’s doing, the angel told her, for nothing is impossible with God.

At this point in the story, I think there was a long pause as Mary turned this over in her mind and considered the many ramifications of this announcement. She is a thirteen- year old girl after all, and this is life changing news! But she takes the angel at his word and believes him. She accepts her role in God’s divine plan. “Here I am, the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word.” And Gabriel left. Mary believed Gabriel’s message, and they rest, as they say, is history.

Although we know very little about Mary and her family, we can assume that she was a devout Jew who had listened and believed the scripture lessons read at the local synagogue. Although she was certainly startled by the appearance of an angel, his words didn’t seem foreign to her. Deep in her heart she believed that one day the Messiah would come. She just never realized that she would be chosen to play a part in the Messiah’s birth.

It’s a beautiful story, one that will live in our hearts forever and teach us some things about the life of faith.

First of all, we see a young woman’s obedience to God. “Here I am, the servant of the Lord,” Mary says. “Let it be with me according to your word.”

When a pastor asked a class of boys and girls, “Why was Jesus born in Bethlehem?”, one boy raised his hand and relied, “Because his mother was there.”

True enough. Without Mary’s obedience to God, the Christmas story would be quite different. “Obedience,” wrote C.S. Lewis, “is the key to all doors.”

I once read about a remarkable young woman named Maria Dyer. Maria was born in 1837 in China where her parents were missionaries. Both of her parents died when Maria was a little girl, so she was sent back to England to be raised by an uncle.

Like her parents, Maria felt a call to be a missionary. So at age 16, she and her sister returned to China to work in a girl’s school there. Five years later, she married a well-known missionary named Hudson Taylor.

Life was not easy for the Taylor’s. Their ministry was harshly criticized and only four of their nine children survived into adulthood. Maria herself died of cholera when she was just 43. But she believed the cause was worthy of the sacrifice. On her grave stone these words were inscribed: “For her to live was Christ, and to die was gain.”

Pastor Paul Chappell makes this comment about the Taylor’s ministry. “In a day when many are self-absorbed and care more about what they can get rather than what they can give, we need a renewal of sacrificial love. It was God’s love for us that sent Jesus into the world to die for our sins, and it is that kind of giving love that our world needs so greatly today. When we love God as we should, our interests fade as we magnify God.”(2)

That was true of Hudson and Maria Taylor. Without obedient servants like the Taylors we would not have the Gospel today. Certainly without the obedience of a young woman named Mary we would not have the story of Christmas.

The second element of the story that endears the Christmas story to us is how God chose to work to accomplish this mission. God chose to work through the least and the lowest of people and places – reminding us of our responsibilities to the least and lowest as well.

Many of the deprived and outcast of this world identify in a special way with the Christ child who lay in a feeding trough for a bed and was attended by shepherds, donkeys, and cattle. Everything about Christ’s birth affirms God’s love for the least and the lowest.

Galilee, the region where Jesus grew up was sort of an Appalachia of its day – up in the hills, and a bit backward compared with Judea.

Nazareth, the village that Mary and Joseph called home had such a poor reputation that in John 1: 46, Nathaniel sums up its disrepute like this: “Nazareth?! Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

Even that little town where Jesus was born was not exactly a teeming metropolis. Bethlehem was the city of David, but as cities go, there wasn’t much to make it stand out. It was a small town not too far from the Holy City of Jerusalem.

Then there were the cattle and the shepherds and the bed of straw because there was no room for them anywhere else. How astonished Mary and Joseph would have been if they could see what Jesus’ humble birth means to us now, how it has morphed into a materialistic extravaganza. However, remember that the first Christmas was aimed at the humblest of people – it is a reminder that we who follow Jesus have a responsibility for those for whom life is a constant struggle. And there are many who struggle in these difficult times.

There was once a story that appeared in AARP magazine a few years ago. It was about an unemployed salesman in 1971 who received an act of kindness that changed his life. This man was living in his car, just scraping by, when a local diner owner gave him $20.00 and a tank of gas.

Fast forward eight years. That unemployed salesman in now hugely successful. He begins giving away money anonymously in order to repay the kindness of that diner owner. What started as a simple gesture of gratitude has grown into a wonderful Christmas tradition. Over the last few decades, this anonymous businessman has given away tens of thousands of dollars every Christmas to people on the streets of Kansas City, Missouri.

And just a few years ago, the businessman returned to the old diner to thank the man who changed his life. The diner owner was retired now and taking care of his ailing wife. Imagine his surprise when a man showed up on his doorstep and handed him $10,000 and then disappeared without a word.(3)

It’s amazing how often things like that happen at Christmas time. Christmas brings out the generosity in us. And it should. Christmas began in a stable surrounded by shepherds and animals, and a humble young couple and a baby in a manger.

But most importantly, Christmas is the celebration of God’s greatest gift to humanity – God’s own Son. The tradition of giving gifts at Christmas time is usually tied to the story of the Magi giving gifts to baby Jesus. But surely the far greater gift at Christmas time is the gift of the baby Jesus himself. There is no greater gift than that.

Most of you probably remember the late Dave Thomas, the founder and long-time CEO of Wendy’s hamburger chain. Dave Thomas wrote a book in which he told about an incident out of his own experience.

Dave was scheduled to film a short television spot urging people to consider adopting a child. Dave himself had been adopted as a child, so he was happy to support the cause. He and a friend of his were to meet with a brother and sister, potential adoptees, to talk with them before they filmed the TV spot.

It was shortly before Christmas, but these two children had little hope of celebrating the holiday with a family of their own. Dave helped the TV spot would help. Unfortunately, the little girl had a problem that couldn’t be hidden. She had an ugly scar across her face where she had been hit with a beer bottle by her father.

As they were talking with the children, the boy blurted out, “I don’t want to be adopted with her – just look at her ugly scar!” The boy was worried that his sisters scar might mess up his opportunity to be adopted. Dave knew how important it was that they be adopted together but he was at a loss as to what to say.

Fortunately, his friend saved the day. He took two $100.00 bills out of his wallet and gave one to each child. He told them that the money was for Christmas presents – but there was one catch. They had to use the money to buy something for their sibling, something that would make them very happy. Then he asked that they both write him a letter and tell them what they bought.

And his plan worked. The children actually bonded more strongly after buying presents for each other. They were eventually adopted together, and their adoptive parents remarked on how well the children took care of each other.(4)

A gift given in the right spirit can carry with it a wondrous amount of love. That was God’s intent in the gift of God’s Son. In the Christmas story we see a young woman’s obedience to God, we see God’s love for the least and the lowest, and most importantly, we see God’s love for each of us, as well as all people on earth, through the gift of Jesus Christ our Savior.

And for that, May God be praised. Amen.

1. Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVI, No. 4, p66.

2. Ibid… p68.

3. Ibid… p69.

4. Ibid… p69-70.

11-29-2020 Come Down

Thomas J Parlette

“Come Down”

Isaiah 64: 1-9

11/29/20, 1st Advent

When I was an elementary school student, I remember how we’d get those book order forms from Scholastic – I used to love those. I loved looking at all the cool books I might order. One of my favorites was the Guinness Book of World Records. I loved just browsing through it and seeing all those obscure, weird records that people set – wondering if maybe I might be able to break one myself. Like this one from the 1999 edition – “The longest time living in a tree.”

It seems a man in Indonesia named Bungkas went up a tree in 1970 and has been there ever since. He lives in a crude tree house he made from branches and leaves of the trees.(1)

No one knows exactly why he took up residence in a tree, but 29 years later he was still there. He might be still living in his tree. Neighbors, friends and family have repeatedly tried to get him to come down, but he won’t budge. “Come down Bungkas, come down.” To no avail. He won’t come down.

That’s an interesting story for this First Sunday in Advent. It fits pretty well with this text from Isaiah. Isaiah cries out to God, “Oh that you would tear open the heavens and come down…”

Isaiah’s desperate plea was the result of a great feeling of helplessness in the face of two troubling phenomena: the suffering and the sinfulness of God’s people.

The people of Israel have known great suffering throughout their history. It was true in Isaiah’s time and it was even more true in the twentieth century when Hitler and his Nazi storm troopers put millions of Jews to death. Even today, there is a strong undercurrent of Anti-Semitism, even though we should know better.

On the one hand the Jewish people believe themselves to be a chosen people with a special relationship to God. And on the other hand, there have been times when God seemed very far away from them.

How is it possible to reconcile the notion “We are God’s chosen people,” with the reality of six million Jews slain under Hitler alone? We can appreciate the difficult dilemma faced by the devout Jew as he or she wrestles with what it means to be a descendant of Abraham in the face of unmitigated tragedy.

It’s like the story Elie Wiesel used to tell. Wiesel himself was a Holocaust survivor. He would tell about a Jewish rabbi during that terrible time. The rabbi would faithfully come to the synagogue each day and pray, “I have come to inform you, Master of the Universe, that we are here.”

As the number of slain, deported and missing Jews increased, the rabbi still came faithfully and prayed, “You see, Lord, we are still here.” Finally, he is the only Jew left alive. With a heart that is numb with grief he comes to the synagogue once more and prays, “You see, I am still here.” Then the rabbi asks, “But you, where are you?”(2)

Many people have asked that question. Where were you God. When my son was in that terrible accident? Where were you, God, when my wife suffered so horribly before succumbing to cancer? Or, as we view the world’s enormous problems such as out-of-control viruses, who has not asked, “Why doesn’t God just come down and straighten the whole mess out? Then there would be no more starvation or war or oppression or disease. Why don’t you come down, O Lord?” Isaiah, the most sensitive of all the prophets, was struck to the core of his being with the suffering of his people.

Just as troubling, however, was the sinfulness of the people. Listen as Isaiah prays, “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.”

More than any other faith on earth, the Jewish faith is one of doing right. The Jews were called together as a people to give witness to God’s moral law. They had the law before they had a temple or a homeland. This was their mission, the reason for their election – to maintain the law.

In the beginning, they believed, God created humans to live in perfect harmony with creation and with the Creator. But something was amiss in the very heart of humanity. Something there was that alienated human beings from their environment, from their fellow human beings, and even from the loving God who had created them. That something was humanity’s sinful nature.

It was sin that dug a chasm between God and humanity. It was sin that made humanity unacceptable to God – for the very nature of God is holiness and righteousness. Thus, the Psalmist wrote, “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place? The one who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not trust in an idol or swear by a false god…”

The law was given to bring light to humanity’s dark existence. But here were God’s people who were to witness to God’s law, and they were people with dirty hands and impure hearts. That sounds like us today, doesn’t it? We, too, are people with dirty hands and impure hearts.

We are like the three young men many years ago from a conservative denomination who were caught red-handed breaking the Sabbath by playing poker. Guilt-ridden for their sins and fearful of the punishment they were likely to receive, they stood before their stern pastor. They shook with fear as he asked for an explanation of their behavior.

The first young man, feeling great guilt, said, “Sir, I was absentminded and forgot it was the Sabbath.”

“That could be,” replied the pastor. “You are forgiven.”

Also very upset, the second young man said he too was absentminded. “I forgot that I was not allowed to gamble on the Sabbath,” was his excuse.

“Well, that could be,” said the pastor. “You are forgiven.”

Finally, the pastor turned to the young man who had hosted the card game, “Well, what is your excuse? I suppose you were absentminded, too?”

“I sure was, sir,” said the young man, who had a reputation as a troublemaker. “I forgot to pull the shades down!”(3)

Quite a modern attitude. He’s not sorry he did it – he’s sorry he got caught. You know, there is an unspoken rule in pick- up basketball, “no harm., no foul.” If I don’t get caught, it’s all right. If no one gets hurt, what’s the problem. It’s only myself that I’m hurting, so it’s my business, isn’t it? No harm, no foul.

Somehow, we, like ancient Israel, have deluded ourselves into thinking that sin is no big deal. We ignore its power to destroy health and home, to damage our witness and impede spiritual growth. We disregard its power to block our view of God and leave us slaves to our own passions. It was as a warning to us that Jesus taught, “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.” In other words, there is something about sin that coats the soul with grime and prevents us from seeing God. Rare are those who listen, however, until it’s too late.

There was once a policeman who watched as a young man backed his car around the block. Then he did it again, and again. Finally, the officer stopped the young man and asked him why he was driving backward. At first he was hesitant to explain, then he admitted that he had borrowed his father’s car and driven farther than he said he was going to – he was driving backward to try to take some miles off the odometer.(4) By the way, odometers don’t work like that – and neither do our spiritual lives.

Isaiah saw that there was no hope that Israel could save itself from the moral abyss into which it was drifting. The only hope was that God would come down and bring healing to its people. Isaiah knew that was the only thing that would work.

Standing on this side of Jesus’ birth and resurrection, we know that God has come down. That is what Advent is all about. God has come down to share our humanity. In a little obscure town outside of Jerusalem, in a simple stable, God came down as a tiny baby born to a humble couple from a little village called Nazareth. God has come down. That which Isaiah prayed for has happened. God has come down in the person of Jesus Christ, and he is the answer to humanity’s sin and suffering.

There is a story told by the late Dr. John Claypool about a play written in 1945 by a German pastor named Guenter Rutenborn. This story was set at a time when Germany was still reeling from the tragic impact of World War II.

Many people in Germany were agonizing with the question of who was responsible for the terrible agony that the Second World War had brought on the world. Characters in the play voiced the opinions of those who were looking for answers. Was Hitler alone responsible? What about the munitions manufacturers who financed him? Did an apathetic German population share the blame?

But then a man comes out of the crowd and says, “Do you want to know who is really to blame for all the suffering we’ve been through? I’ll tell you. God. God is to blame. God is the one who created this world. God is the one who has let it be what it is.” Soon everyone on stage is echoing the same indictment – “God is to blame. God is to blame.”

And so, God is put on trial for the crime of creating the world… and is found guilty. The judge sentences God to what he considers to be the worst of all sentences. He sentences God to live on earth as a human being. Three archangels are given the task of carrying out the sentence.

The first archangel walks to the edge of the stage and says, “I’m going to see to it when God serves His sentence that He knows what it’s like to be obscure and poor. God will be born on the backside of nowhere with a peasant girl for a mother. There will be a suspicion of shame about his birth, and God will have to live as a Jew in a Jew-hating world.”

The second archangel adds to that harsh penalty: “I’m going to see to it that when God serves His sentence that He knows what it’s like to fail and to suffer disappointment. No one will ever understand what He is trying to do.”

The third archangel said, “I’m going to see to it that when God has served His sentence, He will know what it’s like to suffer. I’m going to see to it that God suffers all kinds of physical pain. At the end of His life, He is going to be executed in as painful a way as possible.”

And suddenly the three archangels disappear and the houselights go down. The play is over. And the audience is left for a few moments in darkness as the reality dawns upon each person that God has already served the sentence. God knew what it’s like to be obscure and to be poor. God knew what it’s like to fail and suffer disappointment. God knew what it’s like to suffer a horrible death. God experienced all of this in the life and death of Jesus.(5)

Jesus is the answer to humanity’s suffering and sin. He has come down, just as Isaiah prayed so long ago.

Once there was a little girl named Annika, not quite four years old. Annika was fascinated by a waste basket filled with scraps of fabric left over from one of her mother’s sewing projects. Annika decided to root through the scraps of fabric and retrieve some brightly colored scraps for a project of her own. She took the scraps out to the backyard. Her mother found her there sitting in the grass with a long pole. Annika was attaching the scraps to the top of the pole with giant wads of sticky tape. “I’m making a banner for a procession,” she said. “I need a procession so that God will come down and dance with us.”

“With that,” writes her mother, “she solemnly lifted her banner to flutter in the wind and slowly she began to dance.”(6)

There you have the spirit of Advent. We call out to God and ask God to come to earth once again and dance with us.

“Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down…” prayed Isaiah. That prayer was answered. God did come down, in the person of Jesus Christ. God has come down, and will come down again to join the procession and dance with us, God’s children.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Dynamic Preaching, Vol. XXXVI, No. 4, p51.

2. Ibid… p51-52

3. Ibid… p52-53.

4. Ibid… p53.

5. Ibid… p53-54.

6. Ibid… p54.

12-06-2020 Before the Comfort

Before the Comfort

Jay Rowland

Isaiah 40:1-11 (Psalm 85)

One of the major themes in the Old Testament is the social disruption and difficulties experienced by our religious ancestors, the Hebrew people, but also God’s faithfulness and guidance along the way.  Exodus describes their suffering as slaves in Egypt, but also their deliverance by God through Moses leading them to freedom. In between the lines, we discover that God’s ways usually defy expectations and assumptions. For instance, all would agree that freedom is good and slavery is bad, but the process of extracting them from slavery involved unanticipated struggle and social upheaval: forty long years of living in transition, traveling on foot through the wilderness until they reached the land God chose for them. 

Another major theme is the struggle of God’s people to trust and obey the God who adopted them, saved them and delivered them. From Exodus onward we learn of their settlement into a land of their own which is surrounded by warring nations and superpowers who have their own gods, customs, laws and expectations all of which clash with their identity as God’s people. Ultimately this results in the unimaginable invasion and destruction of their capital Jerusalem including the Temple where they believed God resided. It’s hard for us to imagine the trauma of living as an occupied territory, and the deportation of the best and the brightest religious, community and civic leaders, as well as artists, tradesmen, craftsmen, etc.

Today’s passage from Isaiah is addressed to these exiles “but also to people in all times and places who have experienced intense feelings of dislocation and anger about the way things are or about what they have suffered.”** The phrase that jumps off the page for me is God’s cry through the prophet, “Comfort, comfort my people”. We hear this every year during Advent. But for the first time it has dawned on me that the comfort we long for from God requires more from us than simply waiting passively for it to happen. For the first time I see in this passage that the process leading to the comfort of God’s people is just as messy as the process that created discomfort and suffering in the first place.

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.” 

I’m all-in on the good tidings implied announced by God first through Isaiah, then John the Baptist, that God is preparing a way home, a return from living in exile—both actual and metaphorical exile.  Hearing this lyrical announcement every year during Advent I seem to have stopped paying attention. I’ve managed to overlook the possibility that these familiar words may describe the challenges yet to come, before the promised comfort, that the way “home” the journey to home and comfort involves a deep valley, a rough and twisting road, even a mountain standing in the way.  

Perhaps it’s taken the upheaval of the COVID19 pandemic and the social, racial, and political upheaval of this past year to hear this announcement of comfort with different ears. This year the imagery of the prophet’s cry hit home:

wilderness … desert … valley … mountain … uneven ground … rough places

These terms, these images could sum up the year 2020. What my heart and spirit “hear” through Isaiah after this year is that perhaps we have yet to fully realize how much we have yet to learn about God’s promise of comfort and what it will take to get there from here.  

It’s not as if life before the pandemic was without struggle or discomfort. It’s just that this year we’ve felt the sting of everyday losses much more deeply and devastatingly than ever before because of the overwhelming limits and impositions unleashed by this pandemic upon previously “normal” everyday life. Loss is always disruptive if not traumatizing. “Sometimes loss is sudden and searing. Sometimes it includes a long, aching decline. Sometimes loss comes from injustices that demand every possible individual and institutional redress. And sometimes loss just happens … by no fault of our own or anyone else:  loss of work, loss of opportunities and dreams … seasons, semesters, ceremonies, … friendships, marriages, loved ones, identities, … able bodies, healthy minds, ... possessions,^ etc. 

Whether or not we accept it, loss is part of life. But so is joy.  And yet we seem to have an expectation that we’re supposed to figure a way out of (or around) loss and the suffering it inflicts, as if loss is some sort of accident or foreign evil rather than a natural, fundamental component of life. 

Sometimes we do contribute directly or indirectly to the losses we suffer. That’s sin in a nutshell. But many if not most of the loss and heartache we suffer have no one to blame, no reason to help us understand it. And yet we often seem to seek comfort there.  But when there’s no one to blame or no reasonable explanation, sometimes we blame ourselves--perhaps without even realizing it.

Meanwhile, God longs to comfort us in the midst of our most inexplicable loss, in the depths of our grief.  God desperately wants to free us from the burdens to which we cling—especially those we impose upon ourselves. Even so, I’ve learned that God does not force comfort upon us. God does not rip our grief or our guilt or our shame from our spirit or our body. Whatever reason or reasons we tell ourselves to justify our self-imposed burdens, God honors our choice. God waits for us to decide we’ve had enough of shouldering life’s burdens by ourselves. God is ready to unburden us but unless and until we trust God enough to ask God to help us with these heavy burdens, God waits.

Meanwhile, our self-imposed guilt and shame weigh us down. Our faces, our necks and our backs bend downward, groundward. The Lord walks alongside, longing to see our faces and our eyes again. When our faces are lifted, we are better able to see life in all its fullness and we are better able to cultivate hope. 

Seeing life in all its fullness is to see how our lives are marked not only by the pain of our losses but also by the balm of hope. To see life in all its fullness is to understand and accept that “even amidst loss, life-giving goodness still resides in this world and invites our participation....”  ^ To recover life in all its fullness can “rekindle the fire in our bones in ways that bless us and enable us to be a blessing to others. And however unclear the way forward lies, we each radiate gifts and graces that the world needs, that can brighten the lives of neighbors near and far.”^

Every loss we suffer “is something love divine not only mourns alongside us, but leads the resurrecting charge against, inviting us to join (or re-join) God’s life-giving ways. The comfort God longs to give to us is hidden in trust. Trusting that no matter what is happening right now,

The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase. Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps. (Psalm 85)

Precisely how and when we will experience the unique comfort only God can provide is beyond our knowing. Ultimately, though, the comfort of God constantly seeks us out to sustain us through every desert, every twist and turn on the road, every valley, every rock-strewn path and every mountain rising before us on our way.  

Perhaps Advent isn’t so much about our waiting for Messiah, but Messiah waiting for us, waiting to be asked to join us, even now, before the comfort. 

** From “Looking Into the Lectionary: 2nd Sunday of Advent, with Roger Gench” of the Presbyterian Outlook (https://pres-outlook.org/category/ministry-resources/looking-into-the-lectionary/
^ Nelson Reveley, “Wrestling with Loss,” The Presbyterian Outlook, November 20, 2020 (online)