Sermon: The kind of sermon that gets you thrown off a cliff (Jan. 30. 2022)

Full sermon can be heard HERE (beg. ~10:30).

Epiphany 4C
January 30, 2022
Luke 4:21-30

INTRODUCTION

As we proceed through Epiphany, we continue to see the ways that God is revealed. Last week, it was through the Word. Today, we will see how God is revealed in sometimes very unexpected places. For example, through a young boy – Jeremiah is no more than a teenager when God calls him to the difficult life of prophecy. Yet God is revealed through Jeremiah’s inexperienced lips, because God himself puts the words there. 1 Corinthians will offer us the famous love hymn you’ve heard at countless weddings – but the patient and kind love we’ve heard so much about isn’t really about romantic love, so much as godly love that we share with our neighbor. Paul implores the Corinthian community to quit their shenanigans and love each other better. 

The Gospel reading is a continuation of last week’s reading, so let’s remember where we left off: Jesus is in Nazareth, his hometown. He has just read from Isaiah about how the Spirit has anointed him to bring good news to the poor, and he’s announced that this scripture has been fulfilled in their hearing. Today we will hear the crowd’s response. At first, they are impressed. But then Jesus goes on, telling them that his mission that has impressed them so is not just for them – and he’s not just some hometown star they can tout. In fact, his mission includes outsiders, foreigners, “others.” And this? This does not impress them. In fact, they will try to throw him off a cliff! Turns out that sometimes the Gospel can be hard to accept! 

As you listen, consider the unexpected ways God has shown up for you – and how you received those unexpected appearances. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.

I’ll be honest: I have preached a few sermons in my career that left people grumbling, even a couple that caused someone to make an appointment with me to discuss their concern. But I have never preached a sermon that caused people to run me out of town and threaten to throw me off a cliff. Am I maybe doing this wrong?

But really, joking aside, it seems like the crowd reacts pretty extremely, here. After all, helping outsiders has always been a part of their faith, so why would Jesus’ sermon infuriate them so?

The answer lies in those two stories that Jesus refers to, one about Naaman the Syrian, and one about Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. Now, some of you likely know exactly what stories he is referring to, but my guess is that most don’t. So, I want to spend some time looking at one of those stories, in particular, the story about Elijah, because it can shed some light on this story about Jesus in his hometown. 

First, some backstory on Elijah. He was one of the great prophets, and he shows up during the rule of King Ahab – who was one of the very worst kings, worse than any before him. Like, he condoned child sacrifice. Who does that?? Furthermore, Israel is, as a whole, very unfaithful during this time, practicing idolatry, and King Ahab is certainly not helping that situation. 

Enter Elijah. He goes to the king and says, “Dude, not cool! I’m going to put a curse on the earth: no rain for three years!” That’ll show him! God then tells Elijah how he can survive, where he can find food, and drink water from the stream. Over time, though (and I know this will shock you), the stream dries up, because no rain. Hmm, I wonder why that is? 

So, God tells Elijah to go to Zarephath in Sidon, where God has ordained a widow there to take care of Elijah. (This is the part of the story Jesus mentions today.) Elijah finds the widow, and asks for water, and also some bread. This sassy, exhausted widow says, “As surely as the Lord your God lives” (notice how she does not claim this God for herself – she is a foreigner, not a woman of Israel!) she says, “I don’t have any food. In fact, I only have a handful of flour and a bit of oil, which I’m planning to make into some bread so my son and I can eat one final meal, and then die of hunger.” Yeesh, that’s dark. Elijah says, “Don’t worry, I got this. Go ahead and make that bread, but give it to me. [The gall, right??] And I promise that if you do that, then your oil and your flour will never run out!” Somehow the widow believes this stranger, and trusts this God, and sure enough, she and her son don’t go hungry, and they survive the famine. 

So, to the question becomes: why would Jesus grab this delightful little story as he speaks to the people in the synagogue? After all, he was doing pretty well until then – the people were amazed, and they spoke well of him. Just what he needs at the start of his career, right? Who wouldn’t want to be in everyone’s good graces, especially in his own home town, and at the beginning of his ministry! 

But no, he had to go and keep talking. “I suppose you think you’re going to get special treatment because you knew me when I was kid,” he says. “I suppose you think I should focus my attention here, take care of my own, and heal the pains of my home? Well sorry, Charlie, that’s not how the work of a prophet goes. If prophets are accepted in their hometown, they’re not really doing their job.” And that’s when he cites these two stories from Hebrew scripture, stories about when faithful people could not be found in Israel, so God sent prophets to outsiders, even to enemies. Naaman was a Syrian general – he was the bad guy, but he trusted God, and God healed him of leprosy. And the widow of Zarephath was also outside of Israel, yet she trusted God’s word, and helped this strange prophet, and was saved. 

Well. This did not go over well. In fact, the people were filled with rage! So much rage that they took Jesus out to a cliff, where they planned to hurl him off! 

Even with the backstory, the response may seem disproportionate. Unless… 

Unless they also heard in Jesus’ words a critique. You see, going back to the Elijah story, the situation in Israel at that time, and part of the reason Elijah had brought about a three-year drought, was that there was almost no one in Israel who was worshiping God aright, abiding by God’s law. In fact, idolatry was rampant – worship of other gods, other powers, forsaking the ways of the God of Israel’s, and viewing those other gods as more worthy and powerful than the one true God. So, by bringing up that story, the people are hearing Jesus’ implicit critique: that they, too, are not living according to Torah, God’s law, not living righteously and faithfully. And that is a pretty severe jab. No wonder a prophet is not welcome in his hometown, and no wonder they want to kill him: he has just called them out on the most grievous of sins. 

So, let me pause here and ask you: where are you seeing yourself in this story? Are you Elijah, speaking truth to power and calling people to faithfulness? Are you the widow of Zarephath, trusting God against all odds? Or are you, are we, by chance, the townspeople, who have certain expectations about how Jesus ought to be acting and what he ought to be doing for them, and who are, instead, being confronted with the ways they have turned their expectations of Jesus into an idol? 

Yes, it’s true, we do sometimes let our own expectations of God become an idol. We look for Jesus where we expect to find him – in those comforting moments, loving moments, and supporting us in whatever choices we make – and we fail to see him calling us to greater trust, deeper faith. We ignore the moments when Jesus confronts us with our sin, preferring instead the picture we have formed of a Jesus who allows us to live pretty much like we want to, who agrees with all our viewpoints, who would vote for the same people we do and judge the same people we do. Yes, it is very convenient when Jesus is on our side in all things, isn’t it? In a way, we have domesticated Jesus, viewed him as someone who fits neatly in the box we have made for him. And this box has become our idol.

And yet this story from Luke, and the two stories Jesus refers to, show us that while God always, always loves us, that does not mean that God is always pleased with how we live our lives. This text invites us to look beyond that box we have created, to see how God is calling us out of our narrow view. When we begin to see this reality, it may fill us with rage, to be confronted with our faithlessness, but this is also an opportunity for us to turn from our idolatrous ways and find life. 

And the people God uses to invite us to look beyond may be as unexpected as an enemy general, or a poor widow from a nation we dislike or are afraid of. Or a teenage boy, who is not very eloquent, but is nonetheless a prophet. Maybe the message comes to us from a politician on the opposing side, or a preacher who says something that doesn’t sit right in your gut, or from that co-worker or neighbor who really drives you up a wall. Yes, the Spirit can and has worked through all of these means to bring us closer to faithfulness, to break apart the boxes in which we keep God, to broaden our vision of what God can do in, with and for us. After all, what could be more unexpected than a cross to bring about eternal life, than the death of God’s Son to bring about life for all? And yet that is what God does, and has always done: uses death, and rage, and fears, to turn our attention toward the life that comes after death, and call us to live in that light and life.

Let us pray… God, we have often strayed from your ways, and expected you to be and act a certain way. Open our eyes to the unexpected people and ways you use to bring us back to the path. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Hearing what we need to hear (Jan. 23, 2021)

View the part of the service with the sermon HERE.
The first part of the service, including a children's sermon where Grace might as well be the pastor HERE.

Epiphany 3C
January 23, 2022
Nehemiah 8:103, 5-6, 8-10
Luke 4:14-21

INTRODUCTION

If Epiphany is a season in which we recognize the ways God is revealed, today we will hear especially about God’s revelation through the Word, especially in our first reading, from Nehemiah, and our Gospel reading. Let me contextualize each of those for you. 

The book of Nehemiah is actually part of a pair, Ezra-Nehemiah. Ezra was a priest, and Nehemiah a governor, and together they helped to rebuild Israel after they returned from exile – Nehemiah physically, in the form of rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem and the Temple, and Ezra spiritually. Ezra, you see, has been working with other priests to put together what would become the Torah, the law, the first five books of the Bible. During the exile, when Israel was dispersed and away from the center of their faith, many had begun writing down what had previously been strictly an oral tradition. Now Ezra and others were working on compiling that work, and in today’s reading we will witness the very first time the people are hearing Torah read to them, the first time they are encountering Holy Scriptures. And, as we’ll see, they are greatly impacted by it.

A few centuries later, we find Jesus in the Temple, and this also a first: where John’s Gospel records the sign of turning water into wine as Jesus’ first public appearance, Luke tells us it was this sermon that Jesus gives in his hometown, in which he reads the words of Isaiah and says they are fulfilled in this hearing. Luke tells us that the people were amazed.

Hearing scripture read and interpreted is still an essential part of our worship life – it’s happening right now! – and still a moment in which we believe God to be revealed to us. So as you listen, watch for God! Notice how the Spirit is moving in you today. What word or phrase hits you in a particular way? What comforts you, or what feels uncomfortable, either in the scripture or in the sermon that follows, and why do you feel that way? All of that is the work of the Spirit, and a way God is speaking and being revealed this day. So… let’s listen!

[READ]

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen. 

There is one bit in our reading today from Nehemiah that really drew my attention this week, and that is that upon hearing scripture read to them for the first time, the people wept and mourned… but we don’t know why. What were they mourning? Some say they were mourning because they were being faced for the first time with the magnitude of their sin. Others say they were simply overwhelmed with being together once again after exile (a situation we might understand something about these days!). Still others say they were mourning that although they were back together after 70 years of being in exile, nothing was quite as they hoped and imagined it would be, and they were just now really facing that grief. In truth, it could have been all of this – and more! – all at the same time! 

But the reason I was so drawn in by this fact this week is that I realized: an encounter with scripture is always like that. That is, God’s holy Word always hits each of us differently, and causes us to respond differently – because we all bring different circumstances and different life experience to the text. In fact, we may all respond very differently to the very same text or sermon, and all those responses can exist at the same time, and they can all be right. I have preached sermons where, after the fact, one person tells me how much they loved it, and someone else tells me they had some concern with it that they’d like to discuss with me. They listened to the very same sermon on the same day, but heard two very different things. The Spirit is funny that way – always working in us to hear just what we need to hear on any given day! And if something rubs you the wrong way, that’s probably the Spirit working something out in you, too! That’s how it works for me, anyway!

Jesus’ proclamation today is no exception to this. He is in his hometown (where folks will certainly have some assumptions or expectations of him and what he will say!), and he first reads from the prophet Isaiah, and then interprets it. The Spirit of the Lord is upon him, anointing him to bring good news to the poor. He then goes on, quoting Isaiah, to say all the ways that this good news will become a reality, before finally proclaiming that these words have been fulfilled that very moment.

But his words were and are heard differently by different listeners. That fulfillment might even take different forms for different people. Those present in the synagogue that day would have heard them differently than we do, certainly, because their context was so completely different. But even among us gathered here today, different parts will speak differently to different people. 

In fact, we might not even all agree on what is good news here. For instance, “recovery of sight to the blind” might not even register for someone with 20/20 vision, but I bet that sounds like pretty good new to someone whose eyesight has been failing as they age! Or maybe someone else glosses over the bit about release of the captives, but you are stuck in a relationship that is not giving you life, and hearing that Jesus brings “release to the captives” sounds like just the relief you have been praying for. Good news sounds different to different listeners.

But here’s the kicker: whatever it is that you hear as good news in this passage can only be heard as such when we first recognize and admit what is hard in our life, what lacks, what is difficult. We must first recognize what, precisely, is causing us to weep and mourn, before we can truly hear the Word that will comfort our ache. 

         Makes sense, right? But it is not always easy to admit those areas in our lives where we need some good news. If we are looking for something positive, it is because we are experiencing something negative, something that needs help, something we are unable to accomplish on our own. It is admitting a weakness, admitting that we are somehow vulnerable. This sort of admission can be scary and difficult, and we humans have developed all kinds of ways to live in denial about our weaknesses or shameful experiences, rather than admit them.

         Most people are familiar at least in passing with 12-step programs such as AA. These programs are designed primarily to help people overcome addictions, things in their life that they no longer have control over. Whether or not you are familiar with all 12 steps, most everyone knows at least the first step, which is what? Admitting you have a problem. But it is more than that, actually. The way the manual states it, the first step is, “We admit that we are powerless against…” whatever it is that you’re there for.

         Powerless is a pretty strong word! And yet, admitting to powerlessness has been the first step for so many seeking healing. It can be devastating; indeed it can be bad news. “I have a problem.” And Jesus’ words to us today can also be bad news. We hear about “the poor,” “the captives,” “the blind,” “the oppressed.” Does that describe any of us? If not literally, then maybe figuratively? Are we poor in spirit? Do we hunger for companionship, for knowledge, for understanding? Are we captive to addictions? To sin? (Certainly!) To a need for attention? To a need for seclusion? Are we blind to the needs of the world, to the needs of our neighbor, to the needs of a family member? Are we oppressed by a bully, by a job, by a relationship? Or, are we oppressing someone else?

         Any of these things are terribly hard to admit. They are bad news. But we have to hear them that way, as bad news, before Jesus’ words can become good news to us. Because once we can admit to our weaknesses and short-comings, then we can also be open to hearing how Jesus will give us the strength to overcome them. 

Or, we can see how Jesus will work through those very same short-comings, using them as tools that will then allow us to proclaim that same good news that we experienced to others. Going back to the AA example, the 12th step is a commitment to share the good news that came from admitting powerlessness with others who are struggling through the same problem. This is but one way that Jesus might bring about our own release, giving us sight, freedom, healing, and more – by giving us an opportunity to share it with others in the Body of Christ, or by inviting others to come here to be fed, freed, and comforted. And suddenly, what was our bad news, maybe even so bad that we couldn’t admit it to ourselves or anyone, becomes a way for Jesus’ mission, stated in his inaugural address, to be carried out in the world. 

I still don’t know why those people wept and mourned while they heard the Torah read to them, and we never will. But whatever it was, and whatever it is in the Word that stirs emotion in us, may it compel us to open ourselves to knowing what is true, and letting the Spirit work in and through that to bring about life.

         Let us pray. Compassionate God, we are hungry: feed us. We are captive: release us. We are blind: open our eyes. We are oppressed: set us free. Fulfill your word and your mission in and through us, Lord, so that this earthly kingdom might look more like your kingdom. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Jesus' fullness fills our emptiness (Jan. 16, 2022)

Full service can be viewed HERE (with our new livestream equipment!).

 Epiphany 2C
January 16, 2022
John 2:1-11

INTRODUCTION

We have now moved out of a season of festivals and into the season called Epiphany. The lectionary calls this “Ordinary time,” marked by the use of green paraments – but there is nothing ordinary about a time of epiphany! In these weeks between Jesus’ birth, his manifestation to the magi, and his baptism… and the beginning of Lent… we will hear lots of stories about how God has been revealed and made manifest to people of faith throughout time, and reflect upon how God is manifest and revealed to us still today. 

And we’ll kick all that off with the story of Jesus turning water to wine. It is one of his most well-known miracles (or signs, as John calls them), known even to people who have never stepped foot in a church. But there is much more to know about it than the impressive outcome. For example, it happened at a wedding, at a most ordinary, human gathering. Also, this is Jesus’ first sign, his entry onto the scene of public ministry – in other words, keeping the party going when the host ran out of wine is what Jesus chose to be his first impression! Also, notice that Jesus wasn’t quite ready at first to make his identity known, but his mom urges him, as moms sometimes do, and invites the people there to trust him. Pretty cool!

In Isaiah we’ll see echoes of the wedding theme from the Gospel. And in Corinthians, we will hear about what gifts emerge when God’s Spirit is manifest in us. God’s power is all around us! So as you listen, watch for it – watch how God is manifest in each of these readings, and in your life. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.

Well, my 6-year-old daughter has had to start hauling her school-issued laptop to and from school every day, in case schools suddenly have to go remote again due to Omicron. Several of my colleagues have opted to hold services online-only for the next few weeks. Someone said at council this week, “Drive carefully, because there aren’t enough doctors and nurses at the hospital to take care of you.” Omicron has shot those case numbers and hospitalizations right back up higher than ever before. I know that I, and I guess probably you, had already reached a little deeper into my energy store to get through the past two years, and as I prepared myself for getting through this wave of the pandemic, I reached in and found… nothing left. 

Just like those six 30-gallon stone jars: I feel empty. 

I’m not sure that was the part St. John had in mind for us to focus on when we read this well-loved story about Jesus turning water to wine, and yet, that’s where my attention rested: on the empty stone jars. That’s where I found myself in this story. 

Well maybe John didn’t intend for me to focus on that, but I also believe that where our heart is drawn in a scripture passage is exactly where it needs to go. So, if I’m feeling like an empty stone jug… how, in this Epiphany season, is God being made manifest to that place? How is God being made manifest to a world that is also feeling the emptiness of so much loss and weariness? A world where, as Mary points out, “They have no more wine” – a world where the joy and celebration has run dry?

Well of course our temptation is to jump to the exciting end of the story: the jugs don’t stay empty. At Mary’s urging, Jesus has the stewards fill up six stone jars with water – totaling some 150 gallons – and the water quietly and miraculously turns to wine. That is a LOT of wine, about 1000 bottles: far more than would be needed at this point in the wedding, already three days into the party! Just when everyone was worried about lack and not-enough, Jesus came through with more grace, more blessing and more abundance than they knew what to do with! It’s a great ending!

But I admit that in my own feelings of emptiness, weariness, dryness… I need more than that happy ending. I’m not quite ready to receive that much blessing right off the bat. It’s gonna take a minute for me to get there. So, let’s slow it down a little, and look at some of the details along the way.

First, I think this story says that it is okay to name that emptiness. Mary does, and her acknowledging that fact is a gift to us. In the first century, running out of wine at a wedding would be worse than a party faux pax; it would be a disgrace, truly mortifying for the host. But Mary names aloud that reality, names it to the one person she knows can address it. I think we spend a lot of energy not naming things that cause us shame – and I include admitting fatigue on that list. We prefer just to power through, showing everyone our strength and competence. We think if we keep our weakness and shame hidden, then others will continue to believe we are as strong as we wish we were. But it isn’t true, and it doesn’t help. As shame researcher Brene Brown observes, “Shame thrives in secrecy and silence.” 

People are going crazy for the new Disney movie, Encanto, and with good reason. It is beautiful in so many ways. One of the catchiest songs is sung by Luisa, the sister of protagonist, Mirabel. Luisa has the gift of super strength. Like, rerouting rivers and moving churches strength. She takes on more and more pressure to take care of everyone and everything, and seems to do it willingly… yet in the song she reveals her fear that she can’t handle the pressure. In a gorgeous bridge, she also names an alternative: “But wait…” she sings, “If I could shake the crushing weight of expectations, would that free some room up for joy? Or relaxation? Or simple pleasure? Instead, we measure this growing pressure.” After she names this aloud to Mirabel, we see her begin to heal and grow, to be more authentic, and move toward the joy and life she craves. She is unburdened by the expectations her family has put on her, and eventually can move toward life. That is the power of naming our pain and weariness!

Where else does God show up in this story of the empty stone jugs? The next thing Mary says is to the servants: “Do whatever [Jesus] tells you.” Here, she moves from stating the lack, to inviting trust in the One whom she knows can do something about it. Oh, that trust can be so hard! God doesn’t always act as quickly as we’d like, nor in the way we had imagined. Sometimes God even calls us into something difficult – and you can be sure filling six 30-gallon stone jars was no easy task! Remember, there was no running water there, no hose they could grab, and a single gallon of water weighs about 10 pounds – multiply by 150! But still, they trust, as Mary urged them to. 

And the result is indeed impressive. Finally, we get to the part where the emptiness, dryness, weariness… is filled. God doesn’t leave the jugs empty. They are filled, not just a little bit, but way over the top, and with the best wine. The beverage is not the point, of course – Jesus was not trying to intoxicate the guests – the point is that here the wine is a sign of God’s blessing, grace and abundance. Just prior to this story, John has described what Jesus’ coming into the world means for us. “From his fullness,” John says, “we have received grace upon grace.” And here, in this story of water turned to wine, we see what that fullness, that grace upon grace looks, tastes, and smells like: it is like the best wine, offered in absolute abundance, way over the top. It is like a party and celebration that need not stop. It is like God recognizing our lack, our dryness, and saying, “I won’t leave you like that. Here, take some of my fullness. Here is grace upon grace, blessing upon blessing, love upon love.”

You see, this isn’t really a story about turning water into wine. Sure that’s miraculous and all, but to me, that isn’t the good news here. The best news is that God turns out emptiness and weariness into blessing and grace, our struggles into insights, our lack into abundance. We all share the weariness of the pandemic, and I’m sure we all carry our own weariness as well. You know what weighs on you most. And so does God. And God does not intend to leave you in your emptiness, your brokenness, your lack, your endings, or deaths. God turns all those things into fullness, wholeness, blessing, beginnings, and life. Sometimes we don’t see that come to its full fruition in just a quick moment like it did in our reading, or even in a few days. Sometimes it might even take a few years or maybe that fullness isn’t apparent to us until we are at the gates of heaven. But eventually it does happen, because that is the business of God: to fill up the emptiness with love, grace and blessing.

Let us pray… God of abundance, we are tired. We’re totally over this pandemic, and finding our store of patience and energy has run dry. Be with us in our feelings of emptiness, be manifest to us there, and then help us to trust you, as you turn our empty stone jars into places ready to receive from you grace upon grace. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Sermon: Renewal and baptism (Jan 5, 2022)

HERE's the part of the service with the sermon in it.

 Baptism of our Lord (C)
January 9, 2022
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

INTRODUCTION

Today is the festival of the Baptism of our Lord. Each year on this Sunday after Epiphany (which was Thursday), we hear the story of how Jesus was baptized. Each of the Gospels has a slightly different take on how that happened – I’ll mention a couple things that are unique to Luke’s telling. One is that the voice from heaven speaks directly to Jesus – “you are my son” – where in the others that heavenly voice speaks to those gathered – “this is my son.” In Matthew, Mark and Luke, the Holy Spirit comes down like a dove, but where the other Gospels say this happens as Jesus comes out of the water, in Luke it doesn’t happen until later when he is praying. Speaking of prayer, no other Gospels tell us that Jesus prays after; in fact, the others send Jesus immediately into the wilderness after his baptism, where Luke takes his time with that, offering us Jesus’ genealogy before Jesus heads out to the wilderness. 

However it happened, hearing about Jesus’ baptism invites us to reflect upon our own, and our other readings will help us to do that. Acts shows again the importance of prayer after baptism, and how the Holy Spirit comes to us in prayer. The Psalm describes the power of God and of how God works through water. Isaiah 43 is a beautiful text written for the Israelites who have grievously sinned against God, and yet still, God loves them and claims them and promises to restore and redeem them. Just like God does for us in baptism! As you listen today, hear and give thanks for all these marvelous promises of God that we receive in our baptism. Let’s listen. 

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from the Light of the World, our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The past couple of years, we at St. Paul’s have used the festival of Epiphany, on January 6, to do an activity called Star Gifts. In honor of the wise men following a star to Bethlehem to find Jesus, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, we have handed out paper stars with gifts written on them, gifts that will help us see how God is manifest in our lives – gifts like laughter, time, goodness, joy, acceptance. Just as God was made manifest to the wise men, God is manifest to us through these gifts. The idea then is that the next year, a few people share their reflections on how they saw God manifest in their lives over the past year, through their particular gift.

Well, due to a number of factors, we didn’t get to share our Star Gifts reflections this year, but I do still want to make new stars available to you to take this year, and, I wanted to share some reflections on my own 2021 star gift, which was renewal, and I’d like to do that through our Gospel and the text from Isaiah. 

Since today is Baptism of our Lord, let’s start with that text, in Luke, but I’m actually going to start just before the baptism, with John’s foretelling of Jesus’ coming and his mission. You may remember that we heard that part of the text during Advent. Turns out, that bit about the unquenchable fire is no more palatable in the new year than it was in Advent! All this talk of separating wheat (the edible, life-sustaining part of the plant) from the chaff (the stalk, which is not edible and fairly useless after harvest) can sound an awful lot like Jesus is coming to put us into two groups: those who are saved, and those who will burn in unquenchable fire. Yikes. But looking at it with a renewal lens helps us to see that this is not what Jesus intends at all. We are not all chaff, or all wheat, completely disposable, or completely worthy of salvation. No, we are, each of us, the whole plant, both wheat and chaff, and what Jesus is coming to do, with the help of the Holy Spirit, is burn away that useless chaff in us and leave the fruit, the wheat, that which brings life and sustenance. 

Ahh, suddenly that image of fearful, unquenchable fire becomes an image of renewal. As I said, I have been watching all year for the ways God is made manifest through the gift of renewal, and I saw it many times… and I’m not sure even one of those renewals came easily. New discoveries about myself came after admitting embarrassing mistakes and shortcomings. Growth and healing in my relationships only came after painful encounters. Revelations in parenting came after loud, sometimes tearful fights. Improvement in all those areas came after the hard and painful work of letting go of things I had depended upon (like wheat depends upon the stalk to grow!), and developing new habits, new understandings, new patterns – ones that do bring life – even as the old ones are burned away. The wheat, if it was never harvested from the chaff, would be left to die. It would be fruit, but it would be useless, and never bring life to anyone. Part of the plant must go through the fire in order to bring life. 

Yes, renewal is, more often than not, a painful process. We see this also in the Isaiah reading. Reading this chapter alone is a lovely experience, with its glorious and gorgeous poetry and imagery. But look at how it starts: “But now.” That is a hinge phrase, a shift, both in English and in Hebrew, and it urges us to look at what came before. From what are we shifting? 

Well, it ain’t pretty – it’s all about Israel’s disobedience, which is what led them into their current mess, being in exile with their home destroyed by enemies and fire. Here, listen to the two verses immediately prior, from the Contemporary English Version of the Bible: “Israel sinned and refused to obey the Lord or follow his instructions. So the Lord let them be robbed of everything they owned. He was furious with them and punished their nation with the fires of war. Still, they paid no attention. They didn’t even care when they were surrounded and scorched by flames.” Yowzer. That’s pretty rough! Can anyone be redeemed from that?

But then… Isaiah 43 brings the good news: yes, they can. Yes, God does. Hear now again these words from today’s reading: “But now [there’s that shift], but now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob, who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” 

Whew. That takes my breath away. From that first part I read, from chapter 42… Israel does not sound like a people worth the effort. That would be the chaff I would want to burn, the relationship I would want to let go, the habit I would want to eliminate. But God doesn’t. God doesn’t give up on them. God sees them for all that they are – all their failures and shortcomings and even their unfaithfulness – and He isn’t happy about it, but also doesn’t leave them there. God is committed to their redemption, to their renewal. God chooses to respond in a way that dispels their fear, creates belonging, and sees them as precious, honored and beloved. Indeed, God gathers up the broken pieces and remolds them into something that is for God’s purpose. They are renewed. 

This, my friends, is what God does also for us in our baptism. Baptism is not just some Get-Into-Heaven-Free card, but rather, a channel by which God is continually re-calling, redeeming, and renewing us, just like God did with the Israelites. Baptism is the means by which God promises to keep that unquenchable fire burning, ready to receive all of our sins and failures, so that what is life and what brings life in us will be able to thrive. And furthermore, God felt so strongly about the importance of this promise, that God, in the person of Jesus, stepped right into the water with us, right into those promises, assuring us that God does indeed pass through the waters with us, making sure they shall not overwhelm us.

Thanks be to God for the gifts of baptism. Thanks be to God for the unquenchable fire that burns away what does not bring life. Thanks be to God that we are renewed, redeemed, called by name, and always belong to God.

Let us pray… Renewing God, in this new year, keep our sight on you and the many ways you renew us and our faith. Make us open to the new thing you are doing in us. You have created us, formed us, redeemed us, and called us by name; assure us that in our baptism, we belong to you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Photo:
Zelenka, Dave. Baptism of Christ, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56385 [retrieved January 9, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Baptism-of-Christ.jpg.

Wearing One Dress is a Matter of Faith

 In a previous post, I described what made me want to wear the same dress for 100 days. I wanted to go more in depth about why this challenge is also a matter of faith for me. 

1) Joy! I mentioned this in my last post, and want to elaborate. I see a spiritual director every month (yes, even pastors need direction in their spiritual lives!), and one recurring theme in my sessions with her is how easily I let All The Things get in the way of feeling joy. We often talk about this in terms of how joy is felt in my body. I would describe not-joy as feeling burdened and closed, and joy I would describe as feeling free and at peace. One day a couple months ago, my spiritual director said to me, "That feeling of wholeness and joy - that is your natural state. It is God's intention for you. Follow that joy." It hit me like a sudden burst of warm air. Why was this such a shock to me? After all, I knew it in my head; I just didn't practice it in my life. I have since become more aware of what gives me a sense of that joy, and what doesn't, taking cues from how things feel in my body. I watch for things especially that make me feel that burden and tightness, and have realized that getting dressed is one of them. It's strange, because I'm pretty comfortable in my body, and I don't hate the way I look or feel in my clothes. They just weren't bringing me joy. I kept finding myself longing for something different, as I gazed into my drawers and closet and thought, "I don't want to wear any of this." So every day, I was starting my day with something that felt decidedly un-joyful, which set the tone for the rest of my day. How is that living into God's intention for me? It is not! Well, once one thinks enough times, "I wish I had a comfy dress I could just wear over leggings. Dresses make me feel pretty, fun, and comfy," it becomes pretty obvious what one should do next! I boxed up a bunch of clothes I hardly wear, and left the ones that make me smile, and now getting dressed each day is peaceful and joy-filled. And I feel much more like I'm living into God's intention for me. Plus, wearing a dress really does make me feel lighter and pretty!

2) Rebuke of fast fashion. This is the motivation for many of the participants in the challenge: it's an effort to rebuke fast fashion, as well as "live more with less." If you are unfamiliar with the impact of fast fashion on the environment, read more here, but basically, fast fashion is the rapid production of new, cheaply made clothes to keep up with whatever we are told is in style, and because these clothes are cheaply made, they don't last and need to be replaced frequently. Instead of investing in pieces that will last, we are told to get the latest fashion, then we find said fashion "for a great price!" and then a couple years later we send those cheap clothes (that we barely even wore) to the garbage heap or the thrift store, which frequently is ultimately also the garbage heap. All this production, shipping, and disposal does massive harm to the environment, from the chemicals involved (which especially harm those working in factories under unethical conditions, so this is also a love of neighbor issue!), to the carbon footprint (producing more CO2 than air travel and shipping combined), to the microfibers in waterways and oceans, to the amount of water used to produce and then care for these items (some 80% of the carbon footprint of our clothes is our laundering of them)... you get the idea. 

Enter well-made merino wool dress. It can be worn more times (not quickly replaced), requires owning less clothing overall, is a natural fiber, and doesn't need to be washed as frequently because the wool does not hold odors (on day 40, I just washed mine for only the second time, after my muddy dog sat on my lap). Many who do this challenge pare down their wardrobes considerably afterwards, vow to buy only sustainable clothing that is ethically made, or limit their purchases to thrift and consignment shops, and commit not to give into the latest new fashion. Fast fashion hurts God's creation; as a matter of faith, I want as little part in that harm as is possible.

3) Consider the lilies of the field. Or, We are enough. To elaborate a bit further on the fast fashion piece, advertising and the media tell us each year that we must look a certain way and buy certain clothes in order to fit in and be stylish and thus succeed and be well thought of in society. This could not be more contrary to God's intention for us. God created us as good. We are enough. If the lilies of the field aren't worried about being beautiful and enough, why should we be worried? While society has convinced us we must look or dress a certain way, the truth is that most people don't even notice what we wear. There is something in psychology called "the spotlight effect," which is the belief (and resulting anxiety) that people notice our behavior and how we look more than they really do. Some people doing this challenge have noted that even their own family members didn't notice they were wearing the same dress. One friend of mine interviewed for a job during her challenge, wearing the same dress for all three interviews, and she is now the associate dean at a seminary. The sooner we can shed the belief that our enough-ness and beloved-ness is dependent on us looking how someone tells us we should, the sooner we can live into the belief that God loves us just as we are, and that we are enough. (That said: don't get the impression these dresses aren't good-looking. People look fantastic in these dresses and style it all kinds of ways! But they are doing it with items they already own, seeking to find their particular "look," rather than always seeking elsewhere.)

4) My own personal growth. On a more personal note, one thing I struggle with is that I have such a desire to do things right or "correctly," that I am sometimes hesitant to engage in them. I stay in my comfort zone, worried about messing up. This is something that I think keeps me safe, but in fact, it keeps me from joy (see above!). So one of my spiritual practices is making sure I'm always trying to do something that puts me a little out of my comfort zone, and that I won't always do "perfectly." A challenge like this is not something that I look at and think, "Oh, I'll knock that out of the park!" I scares me just enough to tell me that this is something that will keep in check my need for control in the form of doing all things well. There is a wonderful group on Facebook of people who are doing this challenge, and it is an incredibly uplifting and encouraging group, so that when I'm starting to feel like, "Uuuugh I'm not doing this as well as I want to..." I can reach out there and hear, "You look great! Keep going!" There, participants are routinely reminded of their beauty and belovedness, no matter their age or body type or style. It is a beautiful community that continually affirms all of the above points.

There is more, but these are the main pillars. Being motivated by my faith certainly gives me the strength to continue another 60 days - at least!

Dear God, you created us good, and we are beloved and enough in your eyes. Thank you for the many ways you remind us of that, and let us never stray from a deep knowledge of this fact. Help us to be mindful of our neighbors and of your creation, seeking always to care for both, and guide our attention to the many ways you provide for us to experience joy, even in our most mundane tasks. Amen.