God's Chosen Fast -- A Homily for Ash Wednesday

Isaiah 58:1-12

Tonight we begin our Lenten journey toward Good Friday and Easter. This is a season of preparation and reflection. It’s a time to look inward and discern areas of life that we’ve not given over to God. Traditionally it’s also a season of fasting, where we seek to emulate Jesus who went into the wilderness, fasted for forty days and forty nights, and faced temptation (Matt. 4:1-10). The point of all of this reflection and fasting is that it’s designed to make us more aware of God’s presence and also more aware of the presence of our neighbors.

We begin the journey by remembering our own transgressions, for as the Psalmist reminds us, we are all sinners. As we remember these sins, we receive a mark upon our foreheads as a tangible reminder of our sinful state, and then we offer prayers of confession and receive a word of forgiveness.

Tonight I’ve chosen to focus on the word from Isaiah, which speaks to “God’s Chosen Fast.” In Matthew’s gospel we read Jesus’ words about fasting. He challenges those who make a spectacle of their fasts by presenting themselves in a rather disheveled manner so that their neighbors might know that they’re fasting (Mt. 6:16-18). But Isaiah takes a different approach. This post-exilic prophet challenges his people who have come to believe that their fasting will get God’s attention. They say: “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” (Isaiah 58:3). Isaiah says to them – in your behavior you dishonor this practice.

Although giving up chocolate or some other pleasure might be a good spiritual discipline to adopt during this season, Isaiah calls us to a higher level of understanding. Fasting may discipline our bodies so we can give greater attention to God’s presence, but as Isaiah makes so very clear, God is less interested in our observance of certain fast days than in the way we live our daily lives as God’s people.

Isaiah says to the people, you come out and fast and yet at the same time you oppress your workers and quarrel with each other. If your fasting is accompanied by such actions, then this won’t get your voice heard by God. Instead, God has chosen another fast for us, calling on us to

“Loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke[.] Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?” (Is. 58:6-7)

As Amy Oden puts it: “The fast that God seeks calls for vigilance, for justice, and generosity, day in and day out.” (WorkingPreacher.Org, 2/6/11).

Isaiah’s call for justice is echoed by a word given by the 4th century bishop and theologian Basil of Caesarea who writes:

As we take this Lenten Journey, let us consider the kind of fast that God is calling us to pursue. Isaiah writes that if we engage in this fast, we will be blessed. What is most important, we will be blessed in the knowledge that we are partners with God as moral agents in this world, working with God and empowered by God, we might pursue righteousness and justice in the world.

This is a time for us to look inwardly, to assess our path, to see if our vision is clouded by sin. It is a time to purge ourselves of those things that keep us from being all that God would have us be. The fast that God has chosen for us is one that leads to a new life and partnership with the God we know in Jesus Christ, who makes known to us God’s steadfast love.

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, MI

Ash Wednesday

March 9, 2011

Are you not a robber, you who consider your own that which has been given you solely to distribute to others? This bread which you have set aside is the bread of the hungry; this garment you have locked away is the clothing of the naked; those shoes which you let rot are the shoes of him who is barefoot; those riches you have hoarded are the riches of the poor.  (Quoted in Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, Enuma Okoro, Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals, Zondervan, 2010, p. 178).

Freedom from Darkness -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 9:1-4



1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Matthew 4:12-23

Freedom from Darkness

Christina Rosseti’s hymn of Christmas(1872) describes the feeling that many have at this moment of time – it might be winter blues, but it’s more than that. There is a cloud that hangs over the globe. Economic disarray, warring parties, weather-related disasters, and of course the-all-to-fresh memories of the tragedy in Tucson, all are on our minds and hearts. 

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

The promise of the hymn is this:

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.

In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Although we may experience darkness, the promise of Epiphany continues to speak to us, offering us a word of hope. That word of hope is this – the light that is God’s presence in the person of Jesus the Christ is shining in the darkness. Yes, the clouds are lifting, and hope is returning. This is a message that lies before us, one that beckons us to pick up and share – God’s realm is breaking into our world, bringing freedom from darkness and oppression. Will we then join with God in making God’s reign visible on earth as it is visible in heaven?

Of the three texts that the lectionary provides for this week, two are directly linked. Matthew reflects upon Isaiah’s prophetic word to provide context for Jesus’ own ministry. His decision to move from Nazareth to Capernaum, along the Sea of Galilee, after the arrest of the John the Baptist, is linked directly to Isaiah’s word of hope to the land of land of Naphtali and Zebulun, in the Galilee of the Gentiles.

Isaiah’s word of hope, a word that we last heard in an extended passage on Christmas Eve, says to the people of Jerusalem, who in the 8th Century B.C.E., suffered under the oppressive rule of the northern kingdom of Israel, who in turn faced harassment from Damascus because Israel and its client in Judah chose not to participate in an alliance against a weakened Assyria. The word that comes from the prophet speaks of light shining in the dankness, and as a result the people of the nation of Judah can now rejoice as if they are at a Harvest Festival or perhaps better (in this context) sharing in the plunder of their enemies. Yes, God has reached out and expanded the nation, lifting the yoke of oppression from their shoulders, even as Gideon broke the hold of Israel’s earlier enemies (Judges 7:19-25).

Matthew sets Jesus’ decision to move to Capernaum in this earlier historical context. John has been arrested and so his voice that prepared the way for the reign of God had been silenced. Jesus, who seems to have returned from the Jordan and his temptation in the wilderness to his home in Nazareth goes to the sea and takes up John’s mantle, and begins proclaiming a message of repentance, for the kingdom of heaven is near. Or, as it reads in the Common English Bible – “Change your hearts and lives! Here comes the kingdom of heaven!”

This is the message that light – God’s realm – is about to make itself felt in a world that is enshrouded in darkness. Therefore, where once the people stumbled around in the dark, unsure of where they were going or what they should be doing, now they can walk along a pathway light by the light that is Christ. As we consider this word, it’s appropriate to note that in Matthew’s quotation from Isaiah, he makes it plain that the message is to reach the Gentiles of Galilee. Thus, we’re reminded that God was and is expanding the borders of the realm of God – just as Isaiah suggested centuries earlier!

The passage from Matthew closes, much as the passage a week earlier from John 1 closed, by describing the call of Jesus’ first disciples. In this case Jesus finds Simon and Andrew casting their nets in the lake, and he calls on them, inviting to “follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Then, he spies James and John, sitting in a boat with their father Zebedee, mending nets, and Jesus calls them. In both cases the two pairs of brothers jump up immediately, drop what they were doing and they follow Jesus. Unlike the Andrew in John’s gospel, no one asks Jesus where’s he’s going or where he’s staying – they just go with him. I’m always amazed at the way this text is constructed. No thought, no consideration, no planning, just going and doing. It’s so unlike me. I need at least a few weeks to get ready. But, they go and they accompany Jesus as he traveled through Galilee, teaching in the synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the Kingdom of God, and curing every disease and sickness. In this we see described the very essence of Jesus’s ministry – that of itinerant evangelist and healer. He could easily become Elmer Gantry, and yet he doesn’t.

Finally we come to Paul’s words to the Corinthian Church. I left this passage to the last for a reason. In Isaiah and Matthew we see the foundations laid for Jesus’ ministry of proclaiming and living the reign of God. I’m not saying that Isaiah understood that this was the intent of his words, but Matthew used them for this purpose, to underline the connection between Jesus’ message of the kingdom and Isaiah’s promise that hope would prevail. In this chapter of 1 Corinthians, we see the dark side of the church. We are called to live and proclaim the good news, and yet it’s so easy to lose focus, to start choosing sides and pulling power plays.

Paul’s word to the church that is experiencing deep divisions is that they should “all be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose.” This is a most difficult request to live out. Being of the same mind and purpose, I’ve rarely seen this occur in the church. We bring so many different ideas and experiences to the table, and we all want to be heard, and we want our ideas to be enacted, so being of one mind and purpose as difficult. And yet Paul understands that if the message of God’s reign is to be heard and accepted and lived out, then this is required of us. We can’t say – I belong to Luther or to Calvin, to Barth or to Ruether, to Cone or to Borg. Indeed, we can’t even say – I belong to Christ, because if we do so, are we not pretending to be purer than we really are? I say this with a bit of fear and trembling, because I belong to a movement that declared itself to be Christians Only, not the Only Christians! But the point is this – when we’re divided the cross and its message loses its power. And that is not good. So let us join together and embrace the call!

Called to Testify -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 49:1-7



1 Corinthians 1:1-9

John 1:29-42

Called to Testify

I’m aware that this weekend the nation I call home will honor the memory and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We will observe this moment with a cloud hanging over us, the cloud of an attack on a Congresswoman that left six dead, including a nine-year-old girl who was committed to creating a better world. This attack on one of our nation’s brightest leaders reminds us of the darkness that is present in the world. It was a darkness that Dr. King testified against with words and with deeds. In the end, he was assassinated, but his message lives on in the hearts of those who will hear this voice. Dr. King began his career as a civil rights leader, speaking out clearly against segregation and discrimination that was rife in our land. As time went on, he expanded his message to include giving voice to the concerns of those caught in poverty, and he lent his voice in support of the effort to end the war in Vietnam. Martin Luther King was a prophet deeply rooted in what is known as the Social Gospel. He understood that while sin was present in the heart of the individual, it was also present in the systems of society. One could not change the realities of life, without changing the systems of oppression. He was one who heard the call to bear witness to God’s love for the entirety of creation.

It is with the vigil for those wounded and killed in Tucson on our minds, along with the observance of Dr. King’s birthday, that we come to these three texts scheduled for the Second Sunday after Epiphany. These texts, each in their own way, remind us that this is a season where we focus on the ways in which God is manifest in the world in and through Jesus Christ. These passages of Scripture speak of our calling to bear witness to this presence in the world, to lift up the light that is God’s presence, and make this light known to the nations. As I read these three texts together, I hear in the first passage, from Isaiah, a statement concerning God’s providence in choosing – in the original context – Israel to bear witness of God’s goodness to the nations. From there we turn to Paul who reminds us that we have been gifted for this calling to bear witness, and finally we hear the witness of John the Baptist and Andrew to the mission and purpose of Jesus of Nazareth.

In Isaiah 49 we encounter once again the words of this prophet of the Babylonian exile, who speaks of God’s providential choice to call him (or is it Israel itself?) to this ministry of witness. Whether the intended recipient of this call is the prophet, Israel, Jesus, or even we who hear the call of God in our own time, the call is to be God’s servant, and the call has come even before birth. As is often the case, the prophet protests the call, though in this case it appears that the prophet feels as if the effort has proven to be in vain – “I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.” Although at first blush, the prophet feels as if all of this has been in vain, the prophet is reminded that God is with this cause. And the nature of the cause? Not just to bring back the survivors of Israel to their ancestral home – the opening lines remind us of the scattering of Israel – that would be too easy, too “light a thing.” No, God would gather the people to their homeland so that they might be a light to the nations, so that God’s “salvation shall reach the ends of the earth.” Then, the nations would bow before the Lord and bring glory to God. This is the intent of God, as understood by this prophet, who sees more for God’s people than simply existing as a small country in a big world.

If Isaiah speaks of God’s intention to prepare a people to bear witness to God’s presence, then Paul takes up the issue of means. That is, Paul opens his letter to the Corinthian church, whom he speaks of as having been “called to be God’s people” in Jesus Christ. Having received this call, they have been “made rich through him in everything.” That is, they are not missing any spiritual gifts necessary so that they might bear witness about Christ until the time of his revealing. And this calling, for which they have been properly gifted or equipped (and Paul talks in great detail later in this letter about the nature of this giftedness), they are “called to partnership with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” This is an important word, this word about partnership. It’s a reminder that the life of faith isn’t a passive one. It’s not something that we simply let God do to us or through us, but which involves us in active participation. We’re not simply tubes through which God’s love passes through to our neighbors, without any input on our part (see Tom Oord, The Nature of Love, Chalice Press, p. 37). God has chosen to use us and to equip us, so that a light might be shared with the nations.

Finally we reach John’s gospel, which revisits Jesus’ baptism and calling by John and the calling of the first disciples. This passage from John’s Gospel pictures John the Baptist standing with two of his own disciples, and declaring to them: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the World!” In making this testimony to Jesus, John submits his own ministry to that of Jesus. His baptism had been one of water, but it was a baptism that prepared the way for the one on whom the Spirit rested. Yes, this is God’s Son. Hearing this testimony, the two disciples leave John and go to Jesus. I’m not sure whether this was John’s intent, but the two disciples seemed to understand that if they were going to remain engaged in this work of God, then they would need to attach themselves to the one to whom John had borne witness. Having made a connection with Jesus, Andrew, one of these two former disciples of John, goes to his brother, Simon, and bears witness to what he has seen and discovered in Jesus. John points to Jesus and says – “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the World.” There he is, the one who will restore justice and mercy in the world, but the use of the imagery of the lamb takes to the end of the gospel, where Jesus becomes the Passover lamb. At this moment, the takeaway by Andrew is that “We have found the Messiah.” And when he makes this discovery he feels compelled to share it with his brother, and Simon, himself, feels compelled to come to Jesus. In response, Jesus puts his claim on Simon by giving him a new name – Cephas or Peter. I find it interesting that John makes the translation from Aramaic to Greek, but the imagery of this name change is left ambiguous. Unlike Matthew, we’re not given Simon’s confession (Matthew 16:16), but obviously in John’s mind, something happened in this exchange that placed the mantle on this new disciple.

So here is the question for us this day – to what have we been called to testify? What is this calling, and what are the gifts?

The Servant's Call -- A Sermon

Matthew 3:13-17, Isaiah 42:1-9

What is your calling in life? That is, who are you at your core? And how do you know this to be true? What were the signs that confirmed this sense of calling or vocation? Pushing this even further – Where does God fit into your sense of vocation?

There are those, mostly hyper-Calvinists, who believe that God plans every moment of our lives, while others believe that God doesn’t play any role at all – it’s all up to you. I imagine that most of us fall somewhere in between these two extremes. We believe that God is present in our lives, guiding our choices, but we also believe that we have freedom to choose. So, given this freedom, how do you discern God’s call on your life? How do you know when God takes delight in what you’re doing with your life?

1. Epiphany, Baptism, and the Call of Jesus

I raise these questions with you as we begin our observance of the season of Epiphany. This is a season that allows us to acknowledge the light of God, which has been manifested in our world through the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. The journey actually began Thursday, January 6, which marks the Day of Epiphany. In most Eastern Christian traditions, January 6 is actually Christmas Day. But for us, Western Christians, January 6 marks the end of Christmas, and the beginning of a new season of the Christian year. Epiphany begins with the story of the Magi, who bring gifts to the child Jesus, in acknowledgment that God has chosen him for a specific task – to be the light of God in the world.

Now, we’ve decided to leave up the Christmas Tree for one more service. I will admit that there’s a practical reason – we simply didn’t get around to taking it down. But this fact gave me an idea. By leaving the tree up and lit, we remind ourselves that the one whose life we honor in this season of Epiphany is the light-bearer of God. Jesus is the one whom God has chosen to make God’s self manifest in the world. Last week the text for the day was John 1, which declares that “the Word (of God) became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn. 1:14). Now we get to see how this Word made flesh reveals God to us in the life of Jesus. So, the tree remains up, and the lights remain on, but at the end of the service, Pat will pull the plug on the tree, and the lights will go out. But do not fear, even though the tree grows dim, the light of God is not extinguished. We become the light bearers.

But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, for we must hear the story of Jesus’ own call, which is set in the context of John’s ministry of baptism. In the verses that precede our text, we discover that God has called John to prepare the way for the Lord, who is to come baptizing not with water of repentance, as does John, but with Holy Spirit and Fire. That is, he’s called to prepare the way for the one who, to borrow from John Dominic Crossan, will introduce the “Great Divine Cleanup of the World,” or as it’s better known – the Kingdom of God.

To understand this morning’s text, we need to understand that John is waiting expectantly for the Promised One to be revealed, and so he’s taken aback when Jesus comes to him and asks to be baptized. You see, John immediately recognizes Jesus to be the one he’s been preparing the nation to receive. Although John initially refuses, he relents when Jesus tells him that this is what God desires, so that they would fulfill all righteousness. Then, as Jesus emerges from the waters of the Jordan, he hears God speak from the heavens: “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I’m pleased.” In that moment, Jesus had his calling affirmed and sealed.

I don’t know how many of you have heard God’s voice speaking from the heavens during your baptism, but perhaps even without this your baptism serves as the sign and seal that God has called you, gifted you, and empowered you, to join with God in this “Great Divine Cleanup” that Jesus proclaimed and lived.

2. The One In Whom God Delights

As we consider Jesus’ calling, as well as our own, I’d like us to consider the words of Isaiah 42, a passage of scripture that comes from the time of the Babylonian exile. The prophet speaks of the Servant, in whom God takes delight, and whom God has chosen to receive the Spirit and bring justice to the nations (Is. 42:1). In many ways Isaiah 42 stands behind Matthew’s description of Jesus’ baptism. Remember that Matthew makes it clear that the Spirit of God fell on Jesus, the one whom God calls “my Son” and with whom God is “pleased.” He is the one, as Luke makes clear, whom God has called to bring justice and healing to the nations (Luke 4:18-19). That is, the one in whom God delights is the one who has received the Spirit and brings a light to the nations, opens the eyes of the blind, and brings the prisoners out of their dungeons of darkness. And what is true of the Servant called Jesus, would seem to be true of those who seek to be his followers.

3. The Way of the Servant

I began this sermon by asking the question – what is your calling in life and how do you know this to be true? If, as our texts suggest, we are called to be Servants of God, what does that mean for our lives?

Isaiah suggests that the way of the servant is the way of humility, of peace, and justice. The servant of God doesn’t bark angrily in the streets or even quench a dimly burning wick, but instead brings “full justice to all who have been wronged" (NLT). And Jesus offers us the model of what this calling looks like. As we look at his life and listen to his teachings, we see a man who didn’t force himself on others, didn’t seek political or military power, nor did he trod underfoot the powerless in this world.

If Jesus manifests God’s presence in the world, as the season of Epiphany suggests, then the picture of God that emerges from the life and ministry of Jesus is very different from the distant, unfeeling, self-absorbed God that many of us grew up with. This is not the God whose anger at humanity is expressed through thunder and lightening, earthquakes and floods. Instead of an imperial deity, like the one Constantine envisioned blessing his conquests, the God we meet in Jesus is the fellow sufferer who walks by our side, encouraging us, empowering us, and gifting us. I realize that many people aren’t comfortable with this kind of God, because such a God seems too weak and not worthy of our praise. But, this is the God whom Jesus envisions and reveals in his own life, and he invites us to join in this life of God

As we think of people who have tried to live out this kind of servanthood that Isaiah and Jesus envisioned, perhaps there’s no better example than Henri Nouwen. Nouwen would be the first to say that he wasn’t perfect and might not want to be pictured as an exemplar of the way of the servant. But, what can we say about a man who was a well-known and respected theologian, academic, writer, lecturer, but who in the prime of his career left an important academic post at Yale University to serve the mentally disabled. Yes, this is the way of the servant.

4. The Call to Servanthood

In our baptisms we, like Jesus, receive our calling to be servants of God, who are given the responsibility to “bring forth justice to the nations.” If we will take up this mantle, then we’ll receive the promised Spirit of God, who will not allow us to “grow faint or be crushed” until “justice is established in the earth” (Is. 42:4). If we take up this calling to be God’s servants then we’ll participate in God’s work of bringing light to the nations, open the eyes of the blind, and bring those who are caught in darkness out of their imprisonment.

Before I close this sermon with a call to remember our own callings, I need to remind us all of the tragic events of yesterday in Tucson, Arizona. As most of you know, a gunman shot and nearly killed Gabrielle Giffords, a Congresswoman from Arizona, at a meet the constituents event at a local Safeway, something she has done regularly. Although it appears that she’ll make it, several others in the crowd, including one of her aids, a Federal judge, and a nine-year old child were killed, and several more were wounded. This act of violence is a reminder that we have much work to do to restore a sense of civility to our rhetoric and end the threat violence in our land.

The way of the Servant, which leads to transforming the world, isn’t an easy calling, especially in times like this. Remember, however, that Jesus did say that the way of God is narrow and difficult. So the question of the day is this: Having been baptized into the Name of Jesus, are you ready and willing to affirm your calling to be a servant of God? Does this calling define your sense of who you are as a person? And to push this further, is this our calling as a church? That is, is this our mission – to be beacons of light in the world so that the justice and peace of the God who is love might reign?

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, Michigan

1st Sunday after Epiphany

January 9, 2010

The Light of God Arises -- A Meditation for Epiphany

Epiphany Times Three -- Kathrin Burleson

Isaiah 60

When the darkness covers the earth, and we feel hope ebbing away, we are tempted to give up and let fate have its way. Why bother with life? Why try to make things better? One’s enemies lie round about, undermining everything one wishes to do. It is a common feeling. It can permeate a family wrestling with financial crises or medical ones. It could be a church that has experienced continued decline and doesn’t see how it can be a redemptive and transformative presence in the world. It can be a community – large or small – whose best days seem long past, and now the nay-sayers have taken hold, keeping the community from moving forward. When the clouds hang round about us, when we’re unable to see the sun and the stars and the moon, and wonder about the future, we hear a word from the prophet:

Arise, shine; for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

For darkness shall cover the earth,

and thick darkness the peoples;

but the Lord will arise upon you,

and his glory will appear over you. (Is. 60:1-2)

Today we come to celebrate the Day of Epiphany, the manifestation of the Light that is God, a light that shines our darkness, so that we no longer need to depend on the Sun or on the Moon, but we can trust in God.

This post-exilic prophet speaks to a people who had been scattered and now have received the invitation to return home, they’re lit by the light that is God. There is a bit of triumphalism in this passage, for the vision includes statements about foreigners building up the walls of the city and the nations bringing their wealth to Jerusalem as tribute. It is a common vision for a people who have been suppressed and oppressed, but perhaps we could extend the vision some and instead of seeing the conquerors becoming supplicants, we can see in it a vision of a partnership between peoples. As the Light of God rises in our midst, we can put aside our need either for revenge or for control, but instead engage each other as equals, building a new city, the city of God.

On this Day of Epiphany may we bask in the light that is God. May we allow this light to permeate all the dark corners of our lives, exposing those areas of our existence that keep us from experiencing and expressing the love that is God. And in the end, we will express our trust in the one who says:

I am the Lord;

in its time I will accomplish it quickly. (Isaiah 60:22b).

With Isaiah’s vision in our minds, we turn to remember the one, whom Christians hail as the one who manifests the light and glory of God on earth, Jesus the Christ. May his light shine in our darkness, revealing the love and the grace and the glory that is God. And if we’re willing to receive this light into our lives, may we join together in building a world that is full of light and not darkness, a place where good will and peace reigns over all, and that this peace and this good will shall come not from military might, but through persistent but loving action in pursuit of the justice of God.

The Spirit of Justice -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 42:1-9


Acts 10:34-43

Matthew 3:13-17

The Spirit of Justice

As we begin the season of Epiphany, which celebrates the coming of God’s light and revelation into the World, we are called upon to contemplate the ways in which God has enlightened us through the life and ministry of Jesus. The texts for the day of Epiphany include the story of the Magi who followed a star to the home of Jesus, whose own family had to flee from the oppressive forces of Herod, who sought to destroy a perceived threat – a sort of preemptive strike. As we turn to the texts for the first Sunday after Epiphany, the gospel brings us forward into time. The one whose family fled in the face of human violence had come to the Jordan to be baptized, and in the course of this event the Holy Spirit of God fell upon this man from Galilee. As a result, Jesus becomes the means through which and in which God brings light into the world and makes known God’s purpose and nature.

If light is a key theme for the season of Epiphany, one of the primary biblical themes is that of justice, and justice is part of this set of texts as well. The word justice appears regularly in Scripture, especially in the words of the Prophets. Its sort of odd that a TV personality would condemn churches for embracing the message of social justice since its so prevalent in the biblical text. But, perhaps the problem is that many in our society have forgotten the biblical mandates. It’s also possible that they misunderstand the nature of justice in its biblical context.

Most Americans think of justice in terms of law enforcement – of keeping criminals locked up. It’s telling that the Secretary of Justice is also the “Chief Law Enforcement” officer in the country. Although this department deals with issues that fall under the rubric social justice – things like equal opportunity – we usually think in terms of other kinds of justice – what some call retributive justice (punishment) rather than distributive justice, which deals with the way widows and orphans and the poor are treated. It is an implementation of God’s vision of equity, which means more than simply “getting what you deserve.” Surely, grace factors in here at some point.

As we contemplate God’s vision for the world, which is embodied in the one upon whom the Spirit of God fell during his baptism, anointing him the servant of God, we contemplate God’s justice and righteousness.

Our lectionary journey begins in Isaiah 42, a powerful text written during the period of the exile, by a prophet who announces the coming of the servant of God, the one in whom God has chosen to take delight. The servant isn’t identified by the prophet, which has led to much interpretive speculation. Suggestions as the identity of this prophet depend in part on one’s theology and faith tradition, whether you are Jewish or Christian, but they range from the prophet himself, to Israel, and from Jesus to Paul, Paul comes into play because the Servant is said to be a light to the Gentiles. There is still another possibility, which would involve “everyone who loves and trusts the Lord,” for thus “has assumed the task assigned to God’s servant in this passage” (Ronald Allen & Clark Williamson, Preaching the Old Testament, p. 16). As Ron Allen and Clark Williamson point out, any of these five identifications is appropriate, as long as we allow room for the others to be possible in their own way.

Upon this servant of God falls the Spirit who brings justice to the nations, and does so without faltering or discouragement. This text should be familiar to anyone who has read the Gospel of Luke, for in Luke, Jesus reads and interprets this passage as defining his own calling as God’s servant. God makes a covenant with this person (people), calling on them to be “a light for the gentiles, to open the eyes of the blind to free the captives from prison, and to release from the dungeons those who sit in darkness” (Is. 43:6-7 NIV 2010).

The justice spoken of here is not one that comes at the point of a sword or through coercion, but with humility and grace. This demeanor is defined in the opening lines of our passage, where we’re told that the Spirit-empowered servant doesn’t raise a voice or shout in the streets or even break a smoldering wick, but is instead one like a bruised reed. The justice that this servant brings is, as Allen and Williamson remind us, a “kindhearted justice.” They note further:

Some of the greatest injustices of history have been carried out by those in pursuit of a dream of absolute justice. Millions of people have died at the hands of those pursuing the classless society, a manifest destiny, or some idealistic political or economic vision of one kind or another. All our religious traditions have profaned the concept of God’s justice, Christians particularly in wars that they declared either just or holy, such as the Crusades or the wars of religion from 1618 to 1648. But God’s justice is justice on behalf of God’s children; it is like a mother whose love for her children leads her to seek justice for them. It is the justice of YHWH’s tender love (Allen & Williamson, pp. 16-17).

And so, we look forward to the fulfillment of God’s justice, which we have been called upon to embody as followers of the one who is baptized in fulfillment of God’s righteousness.

From Isaiah’s brilliant vision, we turn to Peter’s confession that “God does not show favoritism, but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right” (Acts 10:34-35 NIV

We can take this reference to the devil in a number of ways. It’s likely that Luke has in mind Jesus’ ministry of exorcism, but it might also have some less obvious, but clearly political implications. If we take seriously the Isaiah passage, then to fulfill his calling as the Servant of God, Jesus would be engaging in actions that are clearly political or social in nature. He would be acting out God’s vision of justice by releasing the people from bondage to the Powers and Principalities, which in shorthand could be the devil. But, as Peter reminds us, this ministry of justice led to Jesus’ death on the cross, but it also lead to resurrection, so that Christ might be seen by those whom God had chosen, so that he might judge the living and the dead. To those who believe on him (Jesus) is given forgiveness of sins. Peter is simply rehearsing the basics of the gospel message as he understood it and as it is presented in the New Testament. One might quibble with this or that part of the message, but the point is – Peter understood that the Spirit of God was present in the world, and God didn’t show favoritism, but instead embraced all who would come. Did Peter have a universalist understanding salvation? Probably not, but still present in this brief text is the recognition that God’s love and God’s justice is inclusive.

Finally we come to the text that defines the day – the baptism of Jesus by John in the Jordan. Jesus seems to believe that this act is an essential part of his journey, even if John resists, recognizing in him something that in his mind would preclude this step. But Jesus says, I need to do this to fulfill all righteousness. At that John consents to Jesus’ request. But what is it that Jesus must fulfill? As Allen and Williamson write, Matthew is concerned with a “higher righteousness,” one that stands in contrast with that of persons like Herod, who wish to dominate and destroy. Perhaps this is the answer to our question of why Jesus took this step: “Trusting in status and rank, being full of oneself in matters of faith, counts for nothing in Matthews eyes. What counts is morally responsible actions” (Allen and Williamson, Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, p. 13). In taking his action of receiving baptism, whether in John’s eyes or our eyes, he needs to do this, he represents for us the attitude of the Servant of God whose coming is announced by Isaiah and witnessed to by Peter. And now, in this powerful moment of experiencing baptism at the hands of John, God provides God’s witness, as the Holy Spirit falls on him in the form of a dove and God speaks from the heavens: “This is my Son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17).

The Baptism of Jesus marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, the point at which he takes up the call of doing good and bringing healing to the people, which is part of Peter’s own testimony. As we remember the baptism of Jesus, let us remember that he took up the mantle described by Isaiah, and that he lived out God’s justice, having been filled with the Spirit of the God of Justice and Love. Yes, remember that the Justice of God is couched in the Love of God.

Salvation Amidst Suffering -- A Lectionary Meditation for the Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 63:7-9



Hebrews 2:10-18


Matthew 2:13-23

Salvation Amidst Suffering

As we moved through Advent into Christmas, we focused on the emergence of light into the realm of darkness. Where darkness sought to rule the day, light ultimately won the battle. It is a struggle that is marked by the observance of the Solstice, which while not Christian aspects of this observance have been drawn up into our observance of Christmas. The message of light breaking into the darkness is seen in the greeting given to the Christ child by the Angelic chorus, and we see it in the star that led the Magi to the Christ child. Yes, the message of the season is that a great light is shining into the darkness, and the darkness, though it will try, cannot overwhelm it. Despite the message of the season that we have been blessed by the unconquerable light of God, this doesn’t mean that the darkness has given up without a fight. The one who brings light into the world may have arrived, but the darkness will do all that is necessary to extinguish it.

As a fan of the original Star Wars trilogy, I see this Sunday’s texts, especially the Gospel text, representing the theme of the second film in the series – The Empire Strikes Back. Is that not the message of the text from Matthew? Despite the victory won by the incarnation, when light pushed back at the darkness, the darkness has struck back with a vengeance. This leaves us with a question – shall the empire win? And if not, what resources may we bring to bear to resist the darkness? How will the light prevail? And the answer that these three texts seem to deliver is that this effort will involve suffering. The Incarnate One will suffer, but so will those who are identified with him.

In this set of lectionary readings laid out for the Sunday after Christmas, we find much that requires thought and interpretation. We must wrestle with texts that suggest suffering is the path through which salvation makes it way, and we must also deal with passages that suggest that substitutionary atonement might be part of the deal. There is also the slaughter of the innocents to deal with, along with a passage that emerges from a time of concern about the future, a time when suffering continues to hang over the people. Yes, there is much darkness to contend within these texts – human sin and rebellion and cruelty – a reminder that God’s work of bringing wholeness to our broken world doesn’t come easily. But, there is hope present here in this set of texts. Isaiah 63 reminds us that by God’s presence the people are saved, Hebrews suggests that the one who is incarnate has shared our lives and will wipe away our sins. And despite the attempt on his life, Jesus and family escape so that they may live for another day. Yes, but all of this comes in the midst of suffering.

Let us look more closely at our texts, beginning with the selection from Isaiah. Whereas the two Isaiah texts we most closely connect with Advent and Christmas, Isaiah 7 and 9, come from a much earlier period in Israel’s history, a time when Judah is under pressure from enemies north and south, but it remains intact. This text, three verses that emerge from a much longer poem, comes from either the exile, or more likely from the post-exilic period. There is restoration, but this restoration has not come without difficulties. There is a mixture of emotions in the complete poem, but these three verses that lead us into the discussion of salvation in the midst of suffering, calls on us to offer praise to God. As we go forth to resist the darkness, that is itself resisting the light, we must recognize that we go forth in the presence of the one who brings to bear grace, steadfast love, and mercy. Yes, even as God became their savior in the midst of their distress, and saved them through God’s great love and pity, redeeming them and lifting them and carrying them all their days, while things might look bad, God in God’s faithfulness was there to lift them up and carry them. Do you not hear a bit of the Footprints poem in this text?

The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child. I love you, and I would never, never leave you during your times of trial and suffering.

When you saw only one set of footprints,

It was then that I carried you."

If Isaiah holds out the promise of God’s saving presence and offers words of praise in response, the anonymous sermon that goes by the title of the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of the one who has been tested in all things as we have, and therefore is able to wipe away the sins of the people. The passage begins by reminding us that God had thought it fitting that the “pioneer of their salvation” should be made “perfect through sufferings.” This passage seems to suggest that Christ has died in our stead to take care of sins, but it doesn’t define what that means. Perhaps, then, it is better that we stay clear of atonement theory and instead see Christ as the one who, being the pioneer of our salvation, and having tasted life as we experience it, understands that part of experience is suffering. By going through this experience of suffering, indeed, even going through death itself (thought death isn’t mentioned here) we begin to understand the true message of incarnation. This one who came into the world didn’t just make an appearance, but experienced all that we experience, and due to his embrace of God’s mission, faced inordinate suffering. As a result, he has become for us a merciful and faithful high priest before God, representing us before God and as a result wiping away all our sins. He tasted life in the darkness, and brought light instead – but not without experiencing suffering.

The Gospel lesson for this Sunday after Christmas makes us skip over the story of the Magi, which is reserved for the Day of Epiphany. It is a text that offers a story of salvation, but it also offers the most graphic description of the manner in which darkness resists the light. Here is the story of Herod and the “Slaughter of the Innocents.” Herod is the one who builds the grand Temple in Jerusalem, but whose own sins are so great that he stands among the pantheon of history’s cruelest tyrants. As Matthew tells the story, Herod reenacts the story of Pharaoh’s slaughter of the Hebrew male children, by having his soldiers massacre all the male children two years and younger. In the case of Herod, the malevolent despot fears anyone who would threaten his hold on the throne, even a small and innocent child. Although there isn’t any historical evidence that Herod ordered the slaughter of the male children of Bethlehem, such an action wasn’t beyond the capabilities of this ruler, who had members of his own family killed lest they try to supplant him. Yes, because he was cruel and sadistic, such an act represents well his personality. And he does stand forth as a symbol of the empire of darkness.

In this story, the child who would be a threat to his throne escapes due to an angelic vision. A father has a dream, and as a result, takes his family to safety in Egypt, reversing the trip the Hebrews took from slavery in Egypt to the freedom of the Promised Land. Isn’t it ironic that the land of light had become a place of darkness?

And the message here? Could it be that the mission of God often comes with a cost to those involved? In this story, the suffering comes not to the one through whom the darkness is defeated, but those near him. We call this collateral damage. Why, we ask, must this be so?

Perhaps the answer to the question of why suffering is part of the story is that darkness will not allow the light to take root without a struggle that leads to suffering. Yes, the darkness will not give up easily. Jesus may have, according to Matthew, survived this first onslaught of darkness unscathed, but as we continue reading, we’ll discover that darkness, and with it suffering, will not go away without a fight. Yes, even as Rachel weeps for her children, a day will come when Mary will weep for her child. But, darkness will not have the last word. Christmas marks the beginning, but a full orbed gospel includes Good Friday and Easter. There is joy and there is sadness. There is victory and seeming defeat. But the reality here is that in the end, the God who comes to us not with violence, but with peace, will bring us healing and salvation.

Your Savior is Born -- A Christmas Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 9:2-7



Titus 2:11-14

Luke 2:11-20

Your Savior Is Born

Christmas is finally upon us. The time of waiting is now giving way to the time of fulfillment. And the message is clear, even though darkness surrounds us, the light is breaking through. Where hope was seemingly lost, it has now been restored. “The Savior,” so says the angel of the Lord, “is Born.” And the salvation that comes to us isn’t pie in the sky, in the next life kind of hope, but a vision of God’s work of wholeness now, in this world. So often we think of salvation in terms of rescuing the perishing from this dying world, but is that the biblical vision? Is that the Christmas vision?

As we contemplate the Christmas story, as told in the gospels, we need to get out of the way the usual claptrap about the pagan origins of many of our observances, including trees, and that Jesus surely wasn’t born on December 25th, a date that coincides with the Roman observance of the Winter Solstice – the return of the Unconquered Sun – Sol Invictus. Yes, I know all of that. We needn’t run away from it. Christians have from the beginning found ways of baptizing rites, feasts, and ideas. That being said, we still have a message to attend to, the one that emerges from the lectionary texts for Christmas Eve/Christmas Day. Matthew’s Gospel has a sparse telling of the Christmas story, which is why we are typically led to the more detailed story in Luke, a story that in many ways differs markedly from Matthew’s, but we’ll get to that later.

Let us begin with Isaiah 9, a passage that gave us one of Handel’s great choruses: “For unto us a child is born, unto us, a son is given, . . .” Isaiah, here the 8th century prophet, speaks to people facing the prospect of an Assyrian conquest. The opening verse of this chapter, which isn’t part of the lection, speaks of northern territories that have already been conquered. Things look bad for Judah, but there is a word of hope here. A light will shine in the darkness, and the people will again rejoice, for the “rod of their oppressor” will be broken and the yoke will be lifted. Yes, and the “boots of the trampling warriors . . . will be burned as fuel for the fire.” The people are fearful, for they are living in a time of darkness. Do you feel their pain and their fear? Are you feeling it for yourself? Is darkness crowding in upon you? These are questions that the text asks of us, before it offers us the word of hope. Even as Isaiah speaks of a child born of a young woman, who will be a sign that “God is with us,” so a child will be born, upon whom authority will be laid, and we will call him: “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Yes, one is coming who will take up David’s throne and his rule will bring eternal peace, justice, and righteousness from this time on. Do you hear the messianic tone here? The early Christians did, and they made the application to Jesus. Did Isaiah have Jesus in mind when he gave this word of hope? I doubt it. Does the appellation “Mighty God” require that the bearer of this calling be divine? Not necessarily – the king was in the minds of the people of that day, “God’s son.” Each of these statements affirms that the one who is to take the throne will represent God on earth and will rule justly and bring peace. But ultimately, however we think of this series of titles, the point is this: God will do this. And if God will do this, are we ready to join God in this work?

The passage from Titus, which is the only time that Titus appears in the lectionary (likely because some of the other points made in this letter are less than conducive to preaching ), but the writer makes good on this one appearance, and does so by continuing the thought from Isaiah, though instead of light appearing, it’s grace, and with this grace will come salvation to all people. I love the next phrase in this passage, for it speaks of this grace that is appearing in our midst educating us so that “we can live sensible, ethical, and godly lives right now by rejecting ungodly lives and the desires of this world” (Tit. 2:12 CEB). Grace is appearing, not just to cover our sins, but to educate us or train us, so that we might live “sensible, ethical, and godly lives.” We could take this passage as a bit of moralizing, but the point is key – our faith, if it reflects the light that has come into the darkness should lead us to living sensibly and ethically. There should be a change in how we live our lives, as we embrace the grace that comes to us in Christ. The letter to Titus reminds us that even as we live in a time of waiting, anticipating the appearance of the “blessed hope” and the glorious appearing of our Great God and our savior Jesus Christ. The closing verses of this passage can be taken in a substitutionary way, but that’s not necessary and perhaps not even warranted. Instead, it would seem best, to me, that we see Jesus giving his live to bring us out of lawless lives so that he might create from us a people for himself who are eager to accomplish good deeds.

We close, appropriately enough, with the Gospel lection from Luke. We begin with Luke’s desire to get the parents of Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee to Bethlehem. Matthew just assumes that they are from Bethlehem and then have to move north because it’s unsafe for them to be in that part of Palestine. Instead, Luke has Joseph and Mary head south to his family’s hometown Bethlehem due to a census or an enrollment on tax lists. There are a number of historical difficulties with this introduction, including the question why the Roman governor of Syria would call for something like this in what was the territory of Herod. There is also the problem of population displacement if everyone had to leave their current home to travel to their ancestral home. But, by creating this scenario, the residents of Nazareth get themselves to Bethlehem, where Mary, the one betrothed to Joseph, and pregnant with her first born son, makes the trip south to Bethlehem, but finding no place to stay, they end up in a stable and when she gives birth to this child, she wraps him up as snugly as possible and gently places him in a manger – essentially the feeding trough. We know this scene so well from creche scenes and from carols that we seemingly need little exposition. Though, maybe it would be nice to have Matthew’s discussion of the naming of Jesus.

Whereas Matthew has Jesus being born in Bethlehem and visited by magi from the east who follow a star, and then warned by the magi flee to Egypt to escape the wrath of a rival king – Herod the Great – Luke has an accompanying story of his own, by which he makes clear how special this birth really is. From the manger scene, we move out into the fields surrounding Bethlehem, where shepherds are tending their flocks by night. Again, the carols have given us the setting, and as the shepherds watched their flock, an angel of God appeared, “and the glory of the Lord shone around them” (vs. 9). And the angel said to the terrified shepherds: “Fear not . . . Glad tidings of great joy I bring to all of humankind, to all of humankind” (Nahum Tate, “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks.”). The message is this: today a child is born in the city of David who is the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord. The one you’ve been waiting for, the one promised by Isaiah, he is here and you will find him lying in a manger in Bethlehem. And as the angel made this announcement the angelic host joined together in the greatest choral concert ever, singing: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth among those whom he favors!” (Vs. 15).

So, what is the message to take from all of this? What message should we be taking in this Christmas season? Is it not simply this – a light shines in the darkness, bringing hope, grace, instruction, and a new way of life – if we will receive this message then surely there will be glory to God in the highest and peace on earth. As for the caveat – “on those whom he favors.” I’m of the belief that God shows favor to all humanity, and not just some among us!

Merry Christmas!

God is with Us -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 7:10-16



Romans 1:1-7


Matthew 1:18-25

God is with Us!

Every year we hear cries from the populace demanding that Christ be put back into Christmas. In the minds of many there is a conspiracy, perhaps by a cadre of elite secularists, who are intent upon stripping Christ out of Christmas. But if Christ is at risk being removed from Christmas then it’s like that the culprit is the very ones who are making the demand. That is, our participation in the commercialization of this sacred feast of the incarnation is what is pushing the true message of Christmas out of the picture.

If we would attend to the voice of Scripture we would hear a message that is summed up in a name – Emmanuel, which is translated “God with Us.” The prophet told the king that God would provide a sign – a young woman would bear a child and she would call this child Emmanuel. And many centuries later, a gospel writer picked upon this prophetic word and reads the story of Jesus in light of it. The one, who, according to Matthew, is named Jesus because he will save his people, fulfills the promise that God would be with us. Therefore, as we watch the blue and the purple of Advent give way to the liturgical white and gold of the Christmas season, and as the hymns transition from a message of expectation to one of fulfillment, the message of God’s presence begins to make itself felt.

This message that God is with us permeates the three texts for the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Two of them speak of a young woman/virgin who bears a child as a sign that God is in our midst. Paul doesn’t speak of the birth of this child but does affirm the gospel message that comes down from the prophets of old, that God’s Son, who is descended according to the flesh from David, has been declared the Son of God through the resurrection. Before I engage more fully these three texts I’d like to add into the mix a statement made by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his lectures on Christology given in Berlin during the 1930s. He notes that the two stories of Jesus birth and baptism stand together, with one concerning itself with the presence of the Word of God in Jesus, while the other is focused in the coming of the Word of God upon Jesus. He writes that “the manger directs our attention to the man, who is God; the baptism directs our attention, as we look at Jesus, to the God who calls.” He then goes on to say:

If we speak of Jesus Christ as God, we may not say of him that he is the representative of an idea of God, which possesses the characteristics of omniscience and omnipotence (there is no such thing as this abstract divine nature!); rather, we must speak of his weakness, his manger, his cross. This man is no abstract God. (John De Gruchy, Dietrich Bonhoeffer: Witness to Jesus Christ, pp. 116-117).

The texts for this Sunday take us directly into the Christmas story, and they remind us that the Christmas story, indeed the gospel story, isn’t the story of an abstract God-man.

The first word comes to Isaiah and is delivered to King Ahaz of Judah, who is told that God will give him a sign, but the king in a bit of false modesty declines the opportunity to test God’s faithfulness. But the prophet will not be put off, and so God will give him a sign anyway, and the sign will be this. A young woman will bear a son, and she will name him Emmanuel, which means “God with Us.” And before this child reaches the age of understanding good and evil, the land controlled by the kings whom Ahaz dreads will be deserted. In context, this is a word of hope to the people of Judah. The young woman could be Ahaz’s wife, and thus the mother of Hezekiah, or she could be Isaiah’s wife, for Isaiah speaks of his own children as “signs . . . from the Lord” (Is. 8:1). Although it’s easy to get caught up in the debate over whether Isaiah 7:14 is speaking of a virgin or simply a young woman without any reference to her sexual experience, if we do this we miss the point – God has offered a sign in the person of a child, a sign that reminds us that God is with us.

Before we move to the gospel lesson that builds upon Isaiah’s word of promise about God’s faithfulness in dealing with Judah’s enemies, we must stop and attend to Romans 1:1-7. Here in this opening section of Paul’s great letter to the Romans, in which he affirms his own call to be an apostle so that he might deliver the gospel that had been promised ages before through the prophets. This gospel concerns God’s son, who though descended from David in the flesh (note there is nothing here about an extraordinary birth), but who is then declared Son of God through the Resurrection from the dead. And the calling to which Paul has been called is to bring the Gentiles into a position of obedience “for the sake of his name,” for they belong to Jesus Christ. Again the text lends itself to debate. One wonders whether this emphasis on the resurrection being the point at which the Son of David becomes Son of God could signal an adoptionist Christology. That is, God chooses to adopt Jesus as his son – either at baptism or in the resurrection. But as Bonhoeffer reminds us these events are all connected and thus fighting over whether this is an adoptionist perspective again misses the point – God us chosen to be present in Christ.

And so we come to the gospel lesson, wherein Isaiah’s “young woman” gives way to the Septuagint’s translation of the Hebrew almah into the Greek parthenos (virgin). The message is this. Joseph was going to put away his betrothed because she was pregnant, and apparently he was the father. He was a kind and gentle man so he didn’t take the option of putting her away publicly. But as he contemplated this action, an angel appears in a dream and tells him: “fear not,” go ahead and get married to Mary, just as you planned, for this child is from the Holy Spirit. The focus isn’t on the how, but on the sign. This young woman, not yet fully married, and probably very young is pregnant, and that means she has broken her vows (or, more likely had been raped, perhaps by a Roman soldier). Joseph was fully in his rights to set her aside, but he was a good and gentle man and so he chose not to do so, and now the angel gives him further instructions. Get married, have the baby, and name him Jesus (Yeshua), for he will save the people from their sins. He will do this to fulfill the word of Isaiah, that a “virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they will name him Emmanuel.” And so it happened, and Joseph refrained from engaging in sexual relations with his wife until the son was born, and they named him Jesus. The message once again is this: “God is with us.”  And because God is with us, there is hope, even a world full of darkness -- as Matthew's gospel quickly reminds us in the story of the slaughter of the Innocents.  But that text is still ahead of us.  Now, the message is this:  Fear Not!

There is much going on in these texts that require our careful attention. They have a powerful message of God’s abiding presence, not in abstract form or in typical human power relationships, but rather in weakness, as Bonhoeffer points out in a manger and on a cross.

Waiting Patiently -- An Advent Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 35:1-10



James 5:7-10


Matthew 11:2-11

Waiting Patiently

I waited an entire lifetime (fifty-two years) to watch the San Francisco Giants win the World Series.  I was not yet born when a very young Willie Mays and his New York Giants teammates won the ’54 Series. I’d seen the Giants make it to the series a few times in my life, but never had I been able to watch them win it all. But, the day of reckoning did come, and my dreams were fulfilled.  Yes, in early November of this year, a much underestimated team that relied on pitching due to a relatively weak offense patiently, but persistently, overcame the odds and won it all for the first time in fifty-six years.    Being the fan of a team that more often than not rewards one’s patience with failure to succeed might lead one to switch teams (and truth be told, despite my lifelong love of the Giants, I have cheated on occasion and adopted a substitute team), but the promise lives on and we persevere (no one quite as long as Cub fans). And when the promise is fulfilled, we are truly filled with joy unspeakable!

The texts for the third Sunday of Advent have nothing to do with baseball, but they do remind us that patient waiting is required of us if we’re to see the reign of God come to full fruition. The prophet of old lays out a wondrous vision of a desert that comes alive with glorious beauty, as it tastes the benefits of water. The prophet adds another image, that of a highway, which is called the Holy Way, and this highway will be extraordinarily safe. It will be a highway for God’s people, and there will be no fear of danger nor of getting lost. And as the ransomed, the redeemed, walk upon it into Zion, they will be doing so singing songs of joy and gladness, with their sorrows fleeing away. What a grand vision of God’s reign. Of course, the prophet new that such a vision had yet to bear fruit. The people of God are living in exile, their hopes dim, but the promise is held out for them.

From the epistle of James we read words of caution – “Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord.” Like the farmer who patiently waits for the harvest, knowing that both the early and the late rains must come before there is to be a harvest. Yes, once again, water plays a significant role in the promised coming of the Lord. The early church leader tells the reader to strengthen their hearts, because the Lord is near. Don’t grumble against each other, lest you be liable for judgment. Indeed, the judge is at the door. But remember that the judges in this context need not be meting out punishment, but instead deciding how to distribute God’s bounty. So be patient, and if you need encouragement, then look to the example of the prophets who suffered patiently, even as they spoke in the name of the Lord.

If Isaiah lays out the vision and James cautions us to be patient in our anticipation of God’s reign, Matthew seems to think that the promise has been fulfilled. Once again John the Baptist appears in the story, as John often does during this season of patient waiting and preparation for the Coming of the Lord. But in this scene, John is in prison, his dream that God’s reign would come into being as a result of his preaching the baptism of repentance, came crashing down. He had hoped to see the dream fulfilled, and now he’s in prison. But according to Matthew, he hears word that the Messiah is doing some amazing things, so he sends his disciples to ask Jesus: Are you the one, or should we keep looking? Now, if you go back maybe eight chapters you’ll find John baptizing Jesus and proclaiming him to be the Messiah or something like that. So, why the confusion and the questions? In answer to John’s questions, Jesus reaches back to the words of Isaiah, and lays out the things he is doing, and suggests that they speak for themselves: The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are clean (remember that in Isaiah 35 no one who is unclean is allowed on God’s Holy Way), the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor, yes the poor, have received the Good news. That, Jesus believes, is a sufficient answer, and the disciples of John return to their master.

As John’s disciples move out of earshot, Jesus turns to the crowd and says of the one who has been sent by God to prepare the way and to be God’s messenger, no one who has been born of a woman has risen higher than John, and yet the least in the kingdom is greater than he. Why? Because the least person in the kingdom has had the opportunity to see God’s reign in its fullness, something John did not get to experience. John is preparing the way, but like Moses another will take the people into the land of promise.

So we watch to see what God is up to, and we do so with patience, knowing the one who is coming is standing at the door. And with the ransomed and the redeemed of the Lord, we come into the Promised Land singing songs of joy!

The Way of Peace -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 11:1-10

Romans 15:4-13

Matthew 3:1-12

The Way of Peace

This second Sunday of Advent is known to many as Peace Sunday. Peace is, of course, difficult to come by. The world is certainly not at peace, and if truth be told the same can be said of our communities and even families. Peace is in the minds of many a Utopian dream that will never see fruition. The realist in me recognizes that peace is not something that can be easily attained and that perhaps there will be interim measures to keep order, if not peace, in the land. But that’s the realist in me, but that realism must be tempered by God’s vision of peace. It is a vision that is clearly espoused in Isaiah 11. But even if a direct appeal to peace is not as clearly present in the Romans and Matthew passages, what all three share is a vision of the Way of the Lord, which according to Matthew, John the Baptist has been called to prepare for.

As we continue our Advent journey, we hear this powerful vision proclaimed: From the stump of Jesse (Jesse being, of course, David’s father), comes a shoot, and upon him will rest the Spirit of the Lord. This Spirit brings wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge and the fear of the Lord. Rather than judging by what he sees and hears, this Spirit-filled leader will judge according to righteousness. He will judge the poor and decide with equity on behalf of the meek of the earth. When we hear judgment, justice, and righteousness, too often what we hear is retributive justice, or punishment. But that’s not what the prophet has in mind. No, the word of the prophet concerning righteous judgment, speaks to God’s decision to act on behalf of the poor and the meek of the earth, what some call distributive justice – making things right for those who the world tramples upon in its eagerness to get ahead in life. Yes, righteousness and faithfulness are the qualities that form the best around the waist of God’s anointed, the true heir of David’s throne. And on that day of the Lord, when justice will be known in the land, then there will be peace – the wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard with the kid, the lion with the calf – and a “child shall lead them.” Or as another prophet said to a governor: “Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,” says the LORD Almighty (Zechariah 4:6 NIV). Then there will be peace on earth. On that day, when the Root of Jesse stands among the people, the nations will enquire of him and his dwelling shall be glorious. It is a messianic vision, which the Christian faith has tapped into and applied to Jesus, seeing in him the hope of peace. We may not live out the vision with any consistency, but it lies before us, calling us to embrace God’s vision for the world. May we be led by the child of God!

If Isaiah lays out the vision, Paul calls on us to be instructed by what has been written in former days (Isaiah 11, perhaps), so that we might live steadfastly, encouraged by the Scriptures, in such a way that there would be harmony. And why harmony? So that we might with one voice, glorify the God and Father of Jesus Christ. Paul, whom we know to be the evangelist to the Gentiles, looks back into the biblical story, and finds promises made to the Patriarchs of old, that suggest that the Gentiles were to be welcomed into the family. Welcome one another, he says, as Christ has welcomed you, all so that the Gentiles might glorify God on account of God’s mercy. Yes, as Isaiah promised, in the root of Jesse, the Gentiles will find hope, and the God of hope will bring to all both joy and peace. It is for this cause, Paul says, that Jesus became a servant to the circumcised, which I take to mean, that it is through this particular first century Jew, that God has fulfilled the promise made to the Patriarchs, that there would be complete harmony in the world.

If Isaiah offers the promise of what God intends, in this powerful text from Matthew’s Gospel, we hear the message of John the Baptist, whom God sent into the world to prepare the way for the Lord, to make the pathways straight, to get things ready for the coming of the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and Fire. For John, this call to prepare the way and make the paths straight is accomplished through a baptism of repentance – that call to change one’s life in the pursuit of God’s design. Matthew’s portrayal of John’s ministry includes a word towards the religious establishment, reminding them that they should bear fruit worthy of their repentance. Of course, you may be joining me in wondering why members of the religious elite would even bother to be baptized by John. Matthew doesn’t give us any explanation, but even if John is less than receptive, it suggests that even the elite seem to understand that things need to be upended. God is at work, changing things, clearing the threshing floor so that the wheat can be separated from the chaff, so that the chaff, that which keeps us from experiencing the fullness of God’s vision. The chaff may be burnt away, but what remains is God’s glorious intention for the creation. Peace on earth, good will to all!

Strangers in a Strange Land -- A lectionary meditation

Isaiah 1:1, 10-20

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

Luke 12:32-40

Strangers in a Strange Land

As we ponder the lectionary texts for the upcoming Sunday, the first word we hear comes from Isaiah. This word of the prophet calls for the people to seek justice for the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow. The second text, a word from the letter to the Hebrews, brings with it a call to faith using as its basis the witness of Abraham and his descendants, who remained true to God’s promises, even though they didn’t see the fruit in their own day. Indeed, this people of God remained faithful, even though they dwelt in the land as strangers and foreigners, always seeking a better land, the heavenly city. Finally we hear Jesus say that God is pleased to give us the kingdom of God. However, if we want to receive this gift then it will require of us finding treasure in heaven, something that is accomplished by selling our possessions, giving alms, and somewhat enigmatically making purses that don’t wear out.

As I read these three texts in tandem, thinking ahead to Sunday, I’m struck by several things. First, despite what you have heard coming from some quarters, God is concerned about justice for those living on the margins of society. Indeed, while some use the Sodom and Gomorrah story to disenfranchise some in our midst because they happen to be gay or lesbian, in the prophet’s view of things Sodom and Gomorrah stand out for their resistance to justice for the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow. Even though Judah and Israel offer all manner of sacrifices, from bulls to incense, none of this matters. Indeed, the eyes of God are averted to their hands as they reach out toward heaven, and the ears of God are shut to their prayers. This isn’t how we’ve learned the Sodom and Gomorrah story, but here it is, and the fingers point toward the pious who neglect justice in the name of religion.

Then you have the well-known story of Abraham (and Sarah). This couple exemplifies the life of faith, which is defined as “the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1). We know this so well we might pass over an interesting element of the story. If you look closely at the description of Abraham you’ll discover that he is a foreigner, a stranger, one who is living in tents – together with his descendants. All died without seeing the benefits of their faith, living generation after generation as “strangers and foreigners on earth.” Again, my mind drifts of to the news, where I hear word that in this country, the country of my birth, the foreigner and the stranger are no longer welcome. Could it be that Abraham and his descendants are among those who are living in our land, looking forward to a better land – the heavenly city? Yes, I know, I’m playing with the text, teasing out possibilities that might not have “literal” support. But what does it mean to be an immigrant looking for a better land, a better life? In what way is this an expression of faith – “the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen”?

Finally, we come to the gospel lesson. Jesus offers a word of assurance – God has given you the kingdom – but you have to be ready. You need to be dressed and have your lamps lit, because you don’t know when the master will come? Yes, the one whom Abraham and his descendants had waited for all these generations might come at any moment – so be ready. And how might one prepare for the coming of the master? According to Jesus it involves selling your possessions and giving alms, so that by doing this, one will make purses that don’t wear out.

Once again we find the text of scripture offering a discomforting message. It challenges our capitalist identities. It challenges our loyalties. It reminds us that piety is not enough, for God isn’t impressed by our offerings or our prayers if we treat our neighbor in an ungodly manner.

Isaiah, speaking for God, puts forth the challenge – “come now, let us argue it out.” We’re used to the KJV rendering — “Come now, and let us reason together” – but as much as I like a dispassionate, reasoned conversation, the NRSV rendering provides more conviction – so you think you’re on the right track, well let’s have it out – verbally that is! But the promise is one of redemption – “your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow.” There is a promise here, one full of grace, but it is also one that requires of us a true accounting of our love of neighbor – even the neighbor who lives on the margins, who has been denied justice, and who might, as was true of Abraham, live in our midst as a foreigner and a stranger.

 

Reposted from [D]mergent, a Disciples of Christ oriented blog