What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, December 25, 2011

Nativity of Our Lord: Christmas Day
Isaiah 52:7-10 • Psalm 98 • Hebrews 1:1-4, (5-12) • John 1:1-14

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

Some of you may know that I have become a runner. Many of you may not know that my preferred time to run is fairly early, 5:30 am or so, with a running group, which both gives good reason to get out of bed, and also provides for good company and encouragement. In a few weeks I will mark my first year of running this early in the morning.

Over the course of this year I have truly seen how different the light is that early in the morning. In the middle of summer, by 5:30am, the sun was up, and its rays were peeking over the tree tops as we got going. But now, in winter, it is dark, and it’s even still dark by the time I get back home. I’ve learned that in these winter months, this is all the more reason why it’s important to run with a group, because the rest of them seem to have something I don’t ever use...a light. Whether it's a head lamp, lit arm band, or brightly lit vest—they all have some way of being seen in the dark. Running around Oak Park and River Forest that early in the morning, believe it or not: there’s more than a few cars driving around. So in winter, without some kind of illumination, we would be in danger—we wouldn’t be seen until a car would come a few feet from us, which would be too late.

In the darkness, whether the darkness of running, or the darkness of navigating our way through our journey of life, it is a truth of our existance that we need light in order to see our way forwards. No matter whether our journey is smooth or full of obstacles, in order to not stumble, we all need lights that can help us spot danger, and enlighten the pathways that will lead us home. We especially need a light that can shine not just in the daytime, in our darkest hours--light that cannot be overcome by the dark.

The light that can illumine our way in life...the light that does shine its light on us as bright as the dawn of this morning’s sunrise...the light that comes to give us sight of God’s love for us...is nothing less than Jesus himself. John’s Gospel proclaims a profound connection between Jesus as our light, Jesus as the one who allows us to see God, Jesus as the one who makes our believing in God possible. In John’s Prologue, which is always the appointed reading for Christmas Day, Jesus, the Word, comes as God’s very life in human form, a life that gives “light to all people”, and a light that shines in our darkness and that darkness cannot not overcome. (1:4-5) Christ displays his light for us by showing us the character of God’s love for us.

Throughout John, the author of this Gospel shows Jesus exposing many who live in darkness and who believe they are bound to live without any light—people who do not see any way forwards, people denied access to the light of God’s acceptance. But time, and time again, those who trust that God is present in this Word made flesh called Jesus, they receive sight to see God. Light indeed has come to shine on them, and on the world. Nicodemus comes to Jesus questioning him under the darkness of night, but on the day of Jesus’ burial he steps out into the light of day to help keep watch over the burial the Son of God that had opened up God to him. A man born blind, a man whom everyone else had cast out of the Temple and into the darkness, steps out into God's light through the healing power of Jesus. Jesus goes to raise Lazarus from his dark tomb of death, to give him new life. Lazarus no longer has to stumble in the darkness of death, but can walk in plain sight alongside the one who came to give him life. Jesus comes to all of them, and to us, this Christmas and always, to give us the light of God’s saving love that shows God to us, and that illuminates our sight of the way forward.

But why did God have to send Jesus as our Light? Couldn’t God have just told us? Couldn’t God have guided, redeemed and brightened our lives without Jesus? Couldn’t God have given us that light through all the other ways God had spoken to us before Jesus, like making a new covenant, giving us an updated version of the law, appointing new judges and new kings, or calling new prophets?

God could have done those things. But Jesus comes to show us God’s light amidst our darkness because we wouldn’t love that light unless God wanted to win our trust...and the only way that we would freely be won over by God’s love, is through someone like us. Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once described the Incarnation as being like a royal king who fell in love with a lowly serving girl. He couldn’t earn her love by a show of power, or she would be intimidated. He couldn’t shower his wealth on her, or by his powers declare that she was his equal. Then she would not love him for who he really is, but for what he could give her. So the king decided to give up his kingship and become a humble servant like her in order to win her genuine love. So too, in Jesus, “the Word became flesh and lived among us”, not to intimidate or coerce us into trusting God, but for us to see in flesh and blood just who God really is and to be won over by his love. (Lose, Making Sense of the Christian Faith, 120-121)

But there’s another reason that the light of God’s love comes to guide and redeem our paths in Jesus. After all, we can understand God better through a human, but how can we trust that this Light of the world will lead us to safety? A story about a farmer’s husband can help us picture this. This farmer never went to church, but his wife went regularly. One cold and blustery Christmas Eve, after his wife had once again failed to convince him to come to church, he was reading comfortably by the fire when he heard a sudden thudding against the windows of their house. He saw that sparrows were crashing into the windows, trying to get out of the cold harsh wind and who had been attracted by the light and heat inside. Not wanting to be bothered, he covered the windows, but that didn’t work. So he went out to open his barn doors wide so the birds could find sanctuary there. But they wouldn’t come in. He tried spreading a trail of cracker crumbs, but they wouldn’t follow. He tried to shoo them in, but that only frightened them more. He thought, “If only I could become a sparrow for a little while, I could lead them into the barn to safety.” It was in that moment that he finally realized what Christmas was all about--the story of God being born a human was both the way for us to be brought into the Light, for us to recognize God. Jesus coming, the farmer realized, was also the way God could lead us to the Light that is our help and our safety, which is God’s saving grace in Jesus. (Lose, 121)

Jesus coming as our Light doesn’t just give us faith to step out from the darkness into his light by ourselves. His light gives us faith to see God as gracious towards all people. His coming gives us light to see that on our path, we are not alone, but we have companions on they way of life that follows God's light. God showers that light down on all, creating a circle of light, a circle of faith, a circle of trust that encompasses our sight of the world as a recipient of this Light. Our faith in Christ’s unfailing light means that we can join in circles of trust with others. In the midst of those circles of trust that gather in Christ’s name—whether they are ones like this circle here, gathered as the church, or a Bible study, small group, family, neighbors or friends—the Light of Christ shines with an embrace that allows our darker, shadow sides we may not be so proud of to come out into Christ’s light and be acknowledged without shame but with mercy. Christ’s light creates circles of trust with others that help us remember where it is we come from, and what relationships are most important to us. In the midst of trusted circles with others created by the light of God’s incarnation, healing can take place, so that we continue on our journey in the world more connected to God’s love than to our dehabilitating wounds. The light of Christ doesn’t just create faith, it creates sight to see the circles of trust that surround us, and remind us that we are never alone.

So we rejoice together this day. God’s light has come. We can step out of our darkness and behold the wonder of God made flesh. We join the Gospel of John’s hymn, to praise Christ who comes to give us sight of a gracious God who is always at work among us, nourishing us with Light to save us from the darkness of our journeys. We join in singing our own hymns this day. Together we join as a circle of trust created by God's faith in us to embody our own gracious response with hymns to God for the self-giving love we’ve been given. We join as people of the Light who have been given sight of the way of our future, the way of salvation, that shines brightly in Christ. We praise God's Light with praises like this stanza that we sang in “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming,”:

“This flow’r,
whose fragrance tender fills the air,
dispels with glorious splendor
the darkness everywhere.
True man, and yet very God,
from sin and death he saves us,
and lightens every road.”

Rejoice, people of God! The Light that leads us home has dawned once again!

Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Saturday, December 24, 2011

Nativity of Our Lord: Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9:2-7 • Psalm 96 • Titus 2:11-14 • Luke 2:1-14, (15-20)

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!" When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

What picture of Christmas do you hold most dear? What vision of what this night means do you longingly come to seek refuge in, this holy night? Is it something like the crech manger scene in your living room, or on that one neighbor’s front lawn? Or perhaps it’s that Renaissance stylized portrait that shows the whole scene in its perfection: a barn with a window at just the right angle to light the manger by the moonlight; a young family with rosy colored cheeks staring lovingly at a happy, cooing babe; the eyes of the sheep, donkey, cattle and the magi’s camels all focused intently on the baby Jesus, as if ready to have a conversation with him.

These visions all come from the story we hear again tonight--the very familiar story of Jesus’ birth, a story in Luke that captures our imaginations...with its elegance, beauty and grandeur. For many of us this story’s familiarity fills us with the comforting picture of Christmas that we long for--of an infant surrounded by loving parents, guests and animals...an infant who is even favored by the voices emanating with songs from the skies.

But how accurate is that picture we hold on to so dearly? Have we edited the story to give us comfort? Today, we now have the technological power to doctor, edit, crop, paste, touch up and cover up any image to make it look how we would like. It’s called it “photoshoping” after the computer program of the same name. Although it is a more recent phenomena, in films this was a popularly done in the 1960‘s with movie stars like Doris Day or Grace Kelly, who would have close-ups softened so their facial curves were smooth, and blemishes were erased. Now with the convenience of digital cameras and personal computers, almost anyone can take a picture and cover up a pimple, remove a double chin, or shed a few pounds with just a few clicks. Image, as the TV ad used to say, after all, is everything.

But have we “photoshopped” the real Jesus out of his birth story? Is the beloved image of the nativity--and even of the beloved rituals that are a part of our home and family life which we look forward to so much each year--are they a little too perfect to be true? Have we rushed so quickly to escape from our everyday struggles and challenges that we have domesticated the incarnation of God to a neat and tidy corner of our lives?

The trouble is that a “photoshoped” Jesus is not the picture that these events in Luke’s Gospel paint of Jesus’ birth. If anyone has worked on a farm, they would know of the stench that surrounded this new family. If anyone has been near a baby’s delivery room, they would know it is anything but a meek and mild experience. Luke’s Mary is a frightened, unwed teenage mother, engaged to Joseph who is way over his head, having to take his family back home and search relentlessly for a place to stay. The shepherds whom the angels greet stand at the very bottom of society’s ladder. They would have brought their own dirt, grime and smell, along with their filthy flocks, to the birth barn. This night of Jesus’ birth was not a picturesque night.

So all of us can perhaps admit that we easily soften the edges of Christmas. But the messy, smelly, fragile and vulnerable scene is not what we want on Christmas, is it?! We have enough hard realities already in our daily lives. We don’t need any more realism, do we? It’s hard enough to keep our tenuous lives in tact, and stem the tide of chaos that threatens to turn our work, our home and our world upside down. It’s hard enough to turn on the news, or open a newspaper and have to see how mucky and messy our world is. Can’t we just clean Jesus up, keep him nice and tidy, and enjoy this little respite from the world's madness?

But even though the beautiful, precious and wonderful lives we work so hard to carefully manage do an excellent job of removing the blemishes in our lives....can we confess this Christmas night...that that life is still not fully, deep down satisfying? Are we willing to confess that our beautiful and wonderful lives are at the same time fragile, vulnerable and ultimately insufficient...

For that is exactly where Jesus comes to save us. He comes to up-end the ordered life that Herod tries to enforce by registering, counting and taxing everyone. Jesus comes far away from the centers of power, far from our efforts to protect our lives through achievement, acquisition and ego. Jesus is born at our most vulnerable fringes. He comes at the fringes to overturn an authoritative empire. He comes at the fringes of surviving a childbirth that could have cost him his life, to die at the fringes for us so that we would be born into his new life. He comes to the fringes where outsiders like common laborer shepherds become his messengers of the best news the world has ever heard.

Jesus comes at the fringes to reveal God does not condemn us for our broken lives, nor does he come to offer us life that is “just a little better” or “just a little more bearable”. Jesus comes at the fringes to completely transform, redeem and resurrect our lives precisely from our fragile center. His coming paints a picture of us that shows us what we look like through God’s eyes. God's view sees the fragile fringes where we reside in for most of our lives, but God hasn't photoshopped them. The view that God comes to see in us through Jesus saves us, and convinces us of God’s belief that we are completely and totally loveable.

I’m guessing that all of us have moments of our lives that contain blemishes we would prefer not to have others to see. A few times now, unfortunately, I have had the unfortunate experience of being videotaped doing something I would not exactly be proud of. Several times I have opened the day’s mail to see an envelope from the City of Chicago, telling me that I had to pay a $100 fine for running a red light. There is nothing more humiliating than going onto the website the city provides to watch a video of yourself breaking the law. There’s no denying it, no getting around it.

God’s tape of us runs much longer and much deeper into our lives--and it’s all because in coming to us in Jesus, there is no place in our experience that God’s presence cannot be found. No matter how fragile our life's videotape is, God comes to offer redemption to us, one and all--even those who disobey a traffic signal.

Despite the tape of our lives carrying warts, muck and blemishes...the image we come to watch and embrace this night is the image of a promise that comes at the fringes...to give us not just more of our same lives...but an abundant life...a redeemed life...a life that is saved for us by Christ. God goes through all the red lights we put up to make a way into to our broken lives.

At the risk of ruining a perfect Christmas escape from our troubles, we can invest our faith this Christmas not in the perfect escape, but in the Savior who was perfectly human and perfectly God-ly for our sake. We can come and seek the One who feeds us in the place deep down inside that wants something more. We can embrace Christ's promise that he has at the fringes to offer us the abundant life we seek, abundant life that shows his light through our cracks, abundant life that will seek us out until all can join in singing, “Let heaven and earth rejoice!”

Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, December 18, 2011

Fourth Sunday in Advent
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16 • Luke 1:46b-55 • Romans 16:25-27 • Luke 1:26-38

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God." Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.

Today in the Prayer of the Day we prayed, “Stir up your power, Lord Christ, and come.” When we responded “Amen”, did we really mean that? The four Sundays of this and every Advent season, we begin that prayer with the words “Stir up your power, O God.” Do we really want God’s power to be stirred up in us? Are we prepared for the impact that God dwelling among us mortals really would have on our lives?

Our response to this prayer taps into the creeping belief in us that God is not an active, present participant in our everyday lives. When we picture the story of our lives, do we imagine God as one of the characters in it? As much as that may be what God desires for us, our “default” God may be more likely to be pictured in the background of our lives, waiting, watching, maybe encouraging us...but not acting on, in, beside, underneath and around us.

The passive God looks similar to the god of the deists, the Enlightenment philosophers who believed in a “clockmaker” God who created the world, and set it in motion, but is not present in its ongoing innerworkings and the playing out of everyday life. In a recent study of the spiritual lives of American teens, surveys showed that this distant “deist” conception of God was the most common belief in God. In fact, far from an incarnate God, the belief system most cited by teens was something the authors called “moral therapeutic deism”, a belief that God is a generally disinterested divine power, who set up a world system where peace and prosperity are provided by God for people who are nice. For many teenagers, the study found they adhere to a religion that is helpful but not entirely necessary, or that demands much of anything from them. (Smith, Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of Teenagers, 2005)

We are not alone in our skepticism of an incarnate God. Perhaps more than we give her credit for, Mary also wrestled with the impossible possibility that God could be with her...and take up residence...in her. (1:28) The only thing the angel Gabriel had said to Mary was “You are favored! God is with you” and already Luke says she is “perplexed” and that she “pondered”--debated, reasoned, wrestled--with what sort of greeting this might be.” (1:29) So often our picture of Mary depicts her as immediately pious, accepting, and obedient to God’s favor of her. But the three verses between Mary asking “How can this be?” and confessing “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” is the space where she has to work through and process what it means that God wants to accomplish great things through an unmarried teenage mother from the back country. Is that not also the space that we inhabit, too? Do we not keep God at bay, wondering if God is done interrupting people’s live to use them for the health and healing of the world?

The good news is that the angel’s announcement to Mary is God’s announcement to us. God still is at work in the world. Far from us fitting some kind of “checklist” for being “nice” that God must approve before God can come to us, God chooses to identify with us by coming as one of us. God plants the seed of Christ not just in Mary, but in the whole human race, regardless of how impossible it may seem. This is the promise of Christmas that we are watching and waiting for this Advent season: that God’s incarnation in Jesus means God favors us each, and wants to do marvelous things through us.

Where does God’s love want to take the story of your life? What shape does God setting up a dwelling place in us, and not in a place of bricks and mortar, look like? What does it look like in all the places and positions that we have in our lives to imagine God wanting to accomplish something for the health of the world through us? It may not be bearing God’s Son! But what else does God want to see enfleshed through you? Not in the sense of being a pawn in a grand chess game that God is playing with the world. That would cheapen our worth. But rather, God wants Mary’s song to become our song, a song that we, too, matter to God’s bringing down the powerful from their thrones and lifting up the lowly; we have a part to play in “filling the hungry with good things, and sending the rich away empty.” (1:52-53)

This past April, perhaps some of you got up at 5:00 am like I did to watch the Royal Wedding of Prince Charles and Catherine Middleton in England. There was so much fanfare and publicity, it was almost obscene how much media coverage there was over it. But in the midst of the service was a profound moment that many may have missed, but that was the true highlight of the whole event. The Anglican Church's Archbishop of London, Richard John Carew Chartres, was speaking to tens of millions of people around the world when he started his sermon by saying something that didn't just speak the heir to the throne sitting there in the church, but something that empowered everyone who heard him. He said, "Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire." It was a quote from Catherine of Siena, an Italian theologian of the Middle Ages. He continued by saying, "Every wedding is a royal wedding, with the bride and groom as king and queen of creation, making a life together so that life can flow through them into the future. ...A generous God, who so loved the world, gave God's self to us in the person of Jesus Christ. In the Spirit of this generous God, [we] are to give [ourselves] to each other." On a day when everyone was watching to give royalty their due, everyone was themselves made into royalty...the same royalty that God declares to Mary, and that God declares to us. God wants to set the world on fire not just through the high and mighty, not just through the family who was made holy by that angel's visit, but through you, and through me.

So take a minute today, and because we all have such different situations and contexts we live our lives in, imagine one way God could use us to impact the health of the world between now and Christmas. This fourth week of Advent gets to be its longest this year, with Christmas not upon us until a week from today. But what one thing could we do that would reflect the favor God has on us, of wanting to set the world on fire through us, and make a difference towards God's ongoing healing work? Is it something as ordinary as providing a place for someone to stay? Is it as small as buying someone something to drink? Is it as simple as extending an invitation to someone to a seasonal party? It doesn't have to be big. But the important thing is to see it as connected to one of the many the marvelous things God wants to accomplish through us. What great thing will that be?

To make those connections, we will all need some practice. So we're going to pretend, just for a moment, that I'm Gabriel, and you all all Mary.

"Greetings, favored ones. The Lord is with you and intends to do great things through you.

Congregation: "How can this be? We are ordinary, everyday people."

"Yet you have found favor through God, and the Holy Spirit will come upon you, guide you, and work through you to care for this world and for all people God loves so much. For nothing is impossible with God.”

Congregation: "Here am I, a servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word.

Amen."

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, December 11, 2011

Third Sunday in Advent
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 • Psalm 126 •
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 • John 1:6-8, 19-28

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. ⁷He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. ⁸He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. ... This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” ²⁰He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” ²¹And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” ²²Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” ²³He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” as the prophet Isaiah said. ²⁴Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. ²⁵They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” ²⁶John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, ²⁷the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” ²⁸This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing. The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! ³⁰This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ³¹I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel."

Today is the Third Sunday of Advent which is traditionally understood as “Gaudate” Sunday, which in Latin means “Rejoice.” We distinguish this day by using a pink candle on the Advent wreath. It’s a day when we mark the halfway point of Advent...that we have made it this far and are only two weeks away from Christmas! It’s a little mini-celebration in the midst of a season of continued darkness, waiting and preparation.

As we mark this day with these small gestures of joy, we also admit that the real reason to celebrate is not here quite yet...we come together to admit our un-faithfulness and brokenness as we did in the opening confession. While one thing of joy is happening on the surface today--the coming together of God’s people to watch for the promised Light of Christ--another dynamic plays out beneath the surface. The dynamic of the honest, real and raw realities that are happening in our lives. We all come today wearing masks, and beneath them lie our true selves, our selves where all of us are cracked, and all of us are longing for something deeper to sustain us and make us whole. In many ways we could say today is two-faced Sunday...one of wearing joy...and one of raw honesty.

But then we have the John of today’s Gospel, and John offers us a way of taking off that mask and opening up our hearts with honesty, and turning that honesty into an authenticity that receives the coming Light of Christ as good news amidst our darkness. This disciple of Jesus is also traditionally associated with this third Sunday of Advent as well. This John is not the writer of John’s Gospel, it is just John...who in John's Gospel is John the Witness to Christ. He is not given the titles in the synoptic Gospels, like John the Baptist in Matthew, or John the Baptizer in Mark, or John the son of Zecharaiah in Luke. The first words John uses to describe himself are not even his own--he only will define himself by the one he has come to witness to: “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’” (1:23)

John goes through an engaging dialogue with religious authorities who have flocked to come and see him. They want to know, “Who are you, John?” (1:19) It’s John’s opportunity to choose if he’ll wear a mask or not: will he wear the mask that boasts of the importance God has given him in the story of salvation...or will he reveal the light that he has come to prepare us for, and point us to...the light of God that shines in the darkness, and that the darkness cannot overcome?

John takes off any mantle or impression that he or anyone else may be putting on him, and quickly replies who he is not: he’s not the Messiah, he’s not Elijah, he’s not a Moses-like prophet. John quickly reveals a lack of any pretentiousness, which is exactly what had been foretold of him: “he came as a witness to testify to the light...he himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light...” (1:8-9)

John shows his leadership through the power of vulnerability, the power that comes in putting on no masks about who he is. He is not the big deal. It is Jesus, whom he has come to witness to, who is the big deal. John's identity is not self-made. He did not become the great prophet through his own efforts—but through his faith. He's made who he is by someone else—it's clear that Christ the light coming into the world, makes him who he is. Like John, our identity in Christ is as his witnesses, and followers. John shows the tremendous vulnerability it takes to confess we're not who others think we are—especially when they are elevating us to an elite status. John demonstrates that real power comes not in boasting of ourselves, but in boasting of the power the merciful light of Christ that comes to shine in us.

As we wait for the advent of Christ among us, the church is one of the few places where, with John, we can speak the truth about our lives. This can be the place where we don't claim to be the Light, but where we continually point to the one who is our Light. Here is the place we can be real, honest and unpretentious about who we are, where we can be vulnerable to our struggles as well as our triumphs. We speak the truth here, because the truth is what Christ comes to die for. He comes so that the truth no longer need be hidden from plain sight, but through the truth his Light of compassion, of wholeness and mercy can shine all that much more brightly in our lives. Here is the place where because we can speak the truth, God moves us from the isolation of triumphant individualism, to intimacy born by a community, like this one, that bears one another's burdens.

If we were to choose a musical background for this Advent time of taking off our masks to reveal to the truth of the darkness within us, and the places in our lives that need Christ's Light, I don't think it would be the station playing Christmas music twenty-four hours a day. I think it would be the music that matches the blue color of this season: the blues. Advent is a time for blues, and not just because we're in Chicago, although there's not a better town for blues music. The blues wastes no time in telling the truth...in fact it revels in it. Whether it's the truth of “I done lost my baby 'gain...” or “I'm so poor, ain't got no money,” the blues finds hope by confessing the very real troubles of life that human beings face. The blues were created by enslaved African-Americans in the deep south who found healing and wholeness in the truth-telling power of this musical form. Thomas Dorsey, who wrote the hymn “Precious Lord, Take My Hand,” saw many connections between the blues and church with the cries that come out of both in response to the circumstances of life. In talking about how the blues tries to uncover our brokenness, he once said: “Now what we call low-down in blues doesn't mean that it's dirty or bad or something like that. It gets down into the individual to set him on fire, dig him up or dig her up way down there 'til they come out with an expression verbally. If they're in church, they say, 'Amen.' If they're in the blues, they say, 'Sing it now.'” (Scharen, Broken Halelujahs, p. 73)

The place that Dorsey says the blues can touch in us—the place beneath our masks, where we are broken—is the place that God touches us in Christ's coming. That is the place that Christ absorbs on the cross. That is the place that God turns from a “no” into a cosmic and definitive “yes.” Even though we sing the Advent blues, the “Amen” God shouts in return to us affirms all that John confessed to when he saw Jesus for the first time: “Here is the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (1:29) (Scharen, p. 94)

So what posture do we take in these remaining days of preparing for Christ? What's our response as we wrestle with the everyday choice of whether we will put on a mask of pretentiousness or not. Our posture in these Advent days is one of hope. It's not a hope that everything will be better, or a hope for what we want individually or communally. It's time to hope for God's Spirit to arrive in us and sweep away all that shields and keeps the Light of God's mercy out of our lives. It's time to hope for God to come and renew us again with the promised peace and love of our Savior. It's time to sing the Advent blues...and hear more loudly still the song of joy that the advent of Christ sings into our lives.

Our posture of hope in these days will come from the model John sets for us today. Once a preacher pointed out that the witness of John is remembered in Advent which comes at the darkest time of year, with the winter solstace approaching. As the light around us decreases, John testifies that the coming Light in Christ will increase. In the same way, John is commemorated by the church on June 24, just a few days after the summer solstace. When the earthly Light is at its highest, we commemorate the lowliness of John, who saw himself as one who pointed to the brightness of Christ's Light.

May we embrace the dawning of the Light of Christ John points to—the Light that comes to set us free from our masks, who hears our “Advent blues” cries of “Amen! Save us, Lord!”, who renews God's covenant to hold us in God's love forever.

Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, December 4, 2011

Second Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 40:1-11 • Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13 • 2 Peter 3:8-15a • Mark 1:1-8

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, "See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'" 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 him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

Happy New Year! We’re in the second week of the new church calendar year in this season of Advent. It’s an advent time in many ways in the church, a time of advent for new beginnings, especially at United Lutheran. A new vision for our future was adopted on November 27, the last Sunday before this new church year began. It’s a time for the new beginning of this vision to take hold in us, a time for embracing, living out and turning into reality what the advent of a church that’s “Centered in Christ, and at work in the world” would look like. It’s a time of new beginnings, of discerning how it is each one of us will participate in and give to United Lutheran’s 2012 ministry. It’s also an advent time for church leaders: of planning budgets, sending letters asking for pledges, recruiting volunteers, and re-organizing teams.

It is more than fitting then that in this New Year advent time of the church that we begin engaging a new Gospel for this next liturgical year. Today we hear the very beginning of that Gospel, which is Mark: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” (1:1) The grammar geeks, editors and English teachers among us will notice that there is no verb in that sentence. It is for that reason why many scholars believe Mark’s beginning serves as a kind of title for this book of the Bible. This is a book where it is OK to judge the book by its cover. It is itself what it says: a proclamation to us, today: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ.”

Patricia Lull, the author of the Bible study that many of the Women’s Circle small groups started working through this past September, says the following about the way Mark’s Gospel starts: “Mark begins with a unique and powerful declaration that the very text of the book itself is a message of good news about the one called Jesus. While we call the first four books of the New Testament Gospels, only Mark claims that designation for itself.” Mark’s Gospel begins by describing this Gospel as “the beginning.” It is as if all of Jesus’ ministry described in this book--his life, death and resurrection--as if that is just the beginning of God’s story of good news. There is a sense in which this Gospel is unfinished and is just starting by the time it ends. The ending verses of Mark also come across as seemingly unfinished, with scene of women fleeing Jesus’ empty tomb, which is the last picture we see in Mark—these women who “said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (16:8) There are no appearances of the risen Christ, no celebrating...just an open-ended question: “What now?”

In the ways Mark bookends his Gospel, his proclamation to us becomes a message that God’s gospel is just getting started. It's not old, antiquated or outdated. It’s just getting started...it’s just beginning...and will not end until Christ comes again. And not only that God’s gospel does not end with Jesus’ death...but it ends by Christ coming into our lives, and through us into the world. God’s gospel story is a story God includes us in, and longs for us to be a part of-a story of God’s saving mission to redeem and love the world--a story of good news that God wants to begin again in us today.

Good news--living through us. That’s what this time of year is supposed to be about, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be a time of good cheer, compassion and happiness? So why then does the story being told in our world and in our lives seem more like bad news? Why is our nostalgia for shopping, evergreen trees, decorations and peppermint sticks not feeding our souls and leaving us, yet again, feeling empty? Why in this season of “good news” are so of us many finding ourselves again facing one of the loneliest times of the year when many are so isolated from family and friends? How is it that despite our familiarity with the central story of this season--of Mary and Joseph, of a baby in a manger, of shepherds in the field--we still doubt whether this story of good news really has anything new left to say to us at all?

The good news of this season that the title of Mark’s Gospel speaks of, which we won’t find by looking inside ourselves, does not start with us. God's good news starts...God's good news begins...God's good news is born...with God who doesn’t gospel us with a cozy memory, with something we’ve heard before, something we know, something that we’ve become numb to. God gospels us with news that is new and good and worth sharing...that sets us free to begin again...and that puts us at the beginning of an untold story--God’s unfolding story of Jesus Christ, at work through you and I. God is just getting started telling that story of Jesus' love, redemption and healing for the whole world. We cannot proclaim the good news of this season to ourselves. As Isaiah says, the words that we speak will wither and fade like the grass. But the word that God speaks...the good news of Jesus Christ...stands forever. He is the one who gospels us into God’s heart, proclaiming that no matter what dead end we may be facing, it is never too late for God to renew restore and recreate us. We are never far from the beginning God speaks to us, and that beginning is the Christ whom John the Baptist foretells. God speaks Christ into our lives. God doesn’t speak a sentimental feeling, or a memory into our lives. God speaks the living Christ to us...centering our lives in his mercy...and that is always good news to celebrate.

The season of Advent reminds us that as we wait for the fulfillment of God’s kingdom, God is never finished proclaiming that good news to us, and God is never finished with us in being a part of fulfilling God’s dream for the world. What is God trying to begin in us this Advent season? What do we need the good news of God’s coming in Christ to set us free from...so that we can be a part of what God wants to begin in us? Is it bitterness towards a relationship that’s stuck in stagnancy? Is it shame for a past decision that we have never managed to get over? Is it fear that hard times will never be able to change? Whatever it is, we will not be able to free ourselves from it. But God in Christ can...and does. God announces a news flash to us that proclaims we are completely loveable and worthy and capable of being a part of the ongoing story of God’s people even though we do not deserve it. It’s that proclamation that makes all the difference in this season that can seem so familiar and almost routine.

There once was a couple who adopted a son from a Russian orphanage, and they wondered why it was that he had so much trouble being consoled, and why as he aged he had so many challenges socially and behaviorally in school. They loved him to pieces and did everything they could on their own to help, but nothing changed. So they tried to get him help. Medications, counselors, doctors...nothing changed. Eventually they discovered a study that was done on the orphanage where their son had been raised. It turned out that this orphanage had approached caring for babies by giving them far less physical touch than normal. Somehow they thought this holding and cuddling was harmful. But it turns out, and studies have been done to prove this, that especially in the earliest stages of life, we can’t console ourselves. We need someone else’s physical presence to hold us, surround and love us, so that we can develop into our truest selves and to fullest potential.

In the same way, our broken lives cannot grow or be sustained on our own. We need God to give us the good news that enfolds, fills and sustains us. We will not find God being born within us in this season of watching and waiting for Christ to come...but we can look to God—rather than putting it on the shelf, we can keep the Gospel storybook open. We can open up the story of our lives to God. We can be humble enough to become beginners again, and find Christ coming to break the bonds of our brokenness.

The Christian mystic and activist Thomas Merton once said, “Advent is the beginning of the end of all in us that is not yet [filled with] Christ.” (my addition)

Come once again this new Advent year, O God, and begin again the work of Christ's power and love in our lives.

Amen.