Lighthouse (sermon draft 1/27/08)

Have you ever “walked in darkness?” I mean literally. Who here has ever walked a good distance in the pitch black of night? How was it? Scary? Dangerous? Challenging, to say the least. I walked in the darkness one memorable time. Let me tell you about it.

It was 1978, I was a freshman at the State University of NY, college at Purchase—up near White Plains in Westchester county. I had gone there after my first summer as a counselor at Camp Trexler, also in NY.

Fall and winter passed, and spring found me not enjoying college too much. I liked the classes and college life, but I felt directionless—like I didn’t know what I was there for. So, when I heard of a work weekend to be held at camp in April, I was all too ready to get away from school. I even talked my friend, Paul, into coming with me. So, we were set to go.

The problem was, how? Paul lived in NYC and his family didn’t even have a car, and I didn’t have one either. Finally we talked a guy from down the hall into giving us a ride—but there was a catch. He would give us said ride an his way home to Poughkeepsie, and so as to not go out of his way too much, the deal was he’d drop us off at the Bear Mountain Bridge and we’d find alternate transportation for the final thirty or so miles to camp. (Don’t you try this, kids—and don’t tell my mother!)

So, that Saturday morning we packed up and headed out. The weather was good, thank God, so when we were dropped off, at least we weren’t these two pathetic wet water rats thumbing a ride at the Bear Mt. Circle (a circle is the NY equivalent of a rotary). And as luck would have it, the first car that drove up stopped to pick us up. Plus, wonder of all wonders, it turns out I knew the girls in the car—one of them being from my home church and a counselor at Trexler’s sister camp. They were going camping for the weekend at Island Pond, just up the Nurian Trail from my camp. So they gave us a ride right to Trexler before heading up into the woods.

Well, we worked hard all the day long and on our free time Paul and I and two other counselors (my friends from home Rich and Pete—remember I talked about him once before) decided to go up the trail and hang out with the girls. Which we did, until about 10-11 pm. At which point we got up to leave, but discovered one small problem. Seasoned veteran counselors that we were, not one of us had thought to bring a flashlight with us. And it was dark!

Do you think the girls were nice and lent us one of theirs? Wrong! They had none either! (It’s a wonder people even sent their kids to these camps!) So, after much conferring and arguing about the relative brightness of moonlight versus starlight, we made the best decision. We’d walk it in the dark!

I wouldn’t recommend this as a fun activity. Fortunately, the trail back from Island Pond starts out on a fire road—nearly impossible to wander off from, if still laden with rocks and roots to trip one up. The first test was finding the Nurian Trail where it intersected with the fire road. Luckily there was a white trail blaze on a tree to mark the spot. Unluckily, it took several passes before one of us saw it in the dark. Here another decision had to be made. Long way down the fire road to Rt. 210 and the camp road and home? Or straight shot down the mountain to camp on the now invisible Nurian Trail—which by the way crossed over some cliffs about halfway down. We made the best decision possible—we turned onto the trail.

After that, basically it was blindly stumbling from blaze to blaze, trying to stay on the compacted soil of the trail by our sense of touch. Hoping we’d find the cliffs before they found us. It was a nightmare, unforgettably scary, and when the lights of camp came into view some hours later—it was a bunch of happy campers who laid eyes on them!

The passage from Isaiah in today’s lectionary doesn’t use the word “darkness” literally. This is not about people who forgot their torches. The background is that Northern Israel has been defeated by her Assyrian enemies, is destroyed and in disarray. The prophet wisely likens their present situation to “walking in darkness.” They are confused, demoralized, and scared. Like people fumbling about in the dark. And not for just a while—they live in this darkness, 24/7. We here in northern climes understand the ramifications of being deprived of light. It’s not only debilitating—it’s downright deadly in some cases. So, imagine living in a land of deep darkness—a deep darkness of the soul. Where there’s no relief, and no hope.

Enter the prophet Isaiah with a message from God: there is hope. A light will shine on them. God will remain true to his promises and turn their abject darkness into glorious light. The ascendance of a king of David’s royal lineage is implied—it is he who will light their way on the path to a restored and revivified nation.

Isaiah was probably talking about King Hezekiah, whom the book of Kings tells us was totally faithful to God—obeying all his ordinances and reforming the temple. And the author of the gospel of Matthew likely knew that. But his job was to present the story of Jesus—who he was, what he did, and why he did it—within the framework of the Judaic scriptures. In other words, Matthew looks back on the whole Jesus “event,” and interprets it with the help of God’s word as it existed then.

So, while Matthew knows that Isaiah’s prophecy is ancient history, he uses that history in a new way to explain the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Now, is this passage in Isaiah about a king of Israel, Hezekiah? Yes. Is it also about Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah? Yes again. It’s about both.

Matthew takes his cue in this scripture from geography. What he has is a Messiah from Galilee, a place that’s not exactly Messiah-producing material. Jerusalem would be better. But knowing that Zebulun and Naphtali are in the region of Galilee, and knowing his scripture, Matthew uses this passage from Isaiah to explain the significance of Jesus’ geographic heritage. A light was to come from the northern regions of Israel, from Galilee—that’s Jesus! Prophecy fulfilled! The people who sat in darkness, who sat in the shadow of death (that is, the people of Israel languishing in sin), they have seen a great light—Jesus Christ.

Now, just as Matthew returns to scripture to interpret his present day experience of Jesus, forging a new meaning from the old that stands besides it, not replaces it—in that same way we can use the gospel to interpret who Jesus is for us today. As long as we’re careful to hold the old and the new up together. What does this recycled passage from Isaiah say to us about God today? First and foremost, it says in our darkness—whatever that might be—shame and guilt from sin, sickness, unemployment, addiction, or even something less dramatic like boredom, doubt, or dissatisfaction with how things are going—whatever our darkness is, there is hope because there is a light. A light sent to you. A light that will guide you out of the darkness and into the dawn of a new life. It’s like being on the Nurian Trail at midnight in pitch black and suddenly the sun comes up!

Now let me shift gears a bit. I spent 8 of the past 10 years in Maine, so I know that the three things Maine is most known for are its: 1. Lobsters, 2. Moose, and 3. Lighthouses. Maine has got some pretty picturesque lighthouses. But they weren’t built for their aesthetic beauty. And they weren’t put there as tourist traps—although they do a fine job of that. Lighthouses have one purpose—and that is to save lives by guiding ships in the darkness. And they do that by shining their light out into the world.

Well, like I said, I spent 8 years in Maine so I hope you might excuse me when I tell you that the first time I saw Messiah Lutheran Church the first thing I noticed was what I guess you call the cupola. But to my Mainer eyes it wasn’t a cupola—it was a lighthouse! And imagine my delight when I found out it lit up at night!

Because I really think that is an apt symbol for the church today—the church is a lighthouse—saving lives by shining the light into the world, guiding those lost in darkness to a place of peace and forgiveness and community and safety. The church is a lighthouse and Messiah has got one right up there on the roof.

The question begged therefore is this, I think—what can we be doing as lighthouse keepers to insure that our light is achieving its purpose? I’m going to give you three to think about.

First and foremost, we need to keep the light lit. A light hidden under a basket do no one any good, and neither does a light that goes out due to neglect. There are people out there in the darkness who need this light. A lighthouse keepers number one job is seeing to it that the light is shining!

So, we need to keep ourselves in spiritual shape so that the light of Christ shines not only on us but through us. You do that by making Jesus a priority in your life. By attending worship—regularly. By joining with God’s people in the study of God’s word—that adult forum should be overflowing each Sunday. Each of us has answered Jesus’ call to follow him. We need to get up off our spiritual duffs and do that. To keep the lamp lit you need a.) fire – which comes to us via the Holy spirit at baptism, and b. you need fuel. We get fueled up here on gospel power—the power of God for the salvation of the world!

Second, we need to shine the light out into the world. Now, sometimes that means finding needs in the community and filling them if we can. So that when people think of Messiah Lutheran Church they say, “Oh that’s the church with the blood drive.” That’s a light that attracts. Sometimes, however, shining the light of Christ into the darkness repels. But we shouldn’t be shy about speaking out in the world when what society does goes counter to God’s word. (And how do we determine that something’s against God’s word? We study it in community.) We must remember however to balance the foghorn of law with the light of grace—to warn, but also to offer forgiveness.

Third, we need to be ready to take in those who are attracted by the light of Christ. We need to be welcoming beyond the pleasantries of social grace, and be welcoming into a new world order where the radical inclusiveness of God’s grace is known and modeled.

In other words, we fish for people—but when they get in the boat we can’t just leave them out of their element, gasping for life in a new environment. We need to partner with visitors and new members, and use the light to show them the way so that they’re not stumbling around “in the dark.” We need to be intentional about explaining things not everyone can be expected to know—like “who is this Marge person who’s always mentioned,” and “where is this narthex they keep talking about,” and “what page is the kyrie on, and for that matter what is a kyrie,” and “what do all these initials stand for - ELW, ELCA, GNIFHN, is it some sort of Lutheran shorthand for text messaging,” and most of all “why all this hubbub about flamingoes?” We need to invite people to be involved and share their ideas for ministry. We need to care for them, just as we do for each other. And we need to follow the light together towards a promised future and transformed present. That’s a good part of our jobs as lighthouse keepers.

Now, you might ask, “How can we learn to do these things better, Pastor Tom?” I’m glad you asked. Because this Saturday coming up—February 2^nd right here at Messiah Lutheran Church there is going to be a workshop on welcoming visitors and assimilating new members led by the pastor of one of the fastest growing churches in New England and featuring stories from members of other growing churches. I think it is important that we not only host that event, but we also be represented there. So important, that I will pay your workshop fee if you sign up right after church. Now I’m cheap—so you can assume this is real important. Alright? End of commercial.

And end of sermon, except to say that it can still be a pretty dark and scary world out there, and pretty dark and scary in our hearts as well. We have experienced the light shining in the darkness of our lives and our sinfulness with hope and forgiveness. Now Jesus calls us to turn from ourselves and teach and proclaim the good news to others. To focus his light on the world, and bring his people home safely. May God’s hand be on us as we do. Amen

A Pre-Clarification

It's not often that I rethink something I proclaimed in a sermon. I try to be thorough in study and careful in exhortation. But every once in awhile I finish the sermon and then have a flash of inspiration that contradicts what I just wrote.

Today was such a time.

The sermon I'll preach tomorrow talks about the things we can do to project Jesus into the community. That's all well and good but...


Jesus is already in the community. (I heard that at Synod Council--it's part of the teachings of The Center for Walking with Jesus in the Street, a new type of ministry that hopes to forge a new understanding of multiculturalism)


Think about it. If Jesus were here on earth today, as he was during his ministry--where do you think he'd be? Holed up in a church--or out amongst the people--healing, feeding, and teaching them. (DUH, no brainer) Of course he attended the synagogue and taught there--but the linon's share of the work went on in the community.

We need to walk with Jesus in the streets, we need to be filled and equipped as well, but the major part of our ministry should be out there. I'm going to think on that this week and tell you more about how I intend to live my own advice.

Pastor Tom

One Mind

Here's part of the second reading for next Sunday;

"I appeal to you...that you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you..."
--1 Corinthians 1:10a


Coming on the heels of an annual congregational meeting that could have been an ironic occurrence, reading this. As it was, our meeting revealed that there were no divisions amongst us, and that we were in agreement about both the need for the $36,000 deficit, and the need to go the extra mile in giving this year. We need that amount to fully fund our ministry, and so we need to see what else we can give.

To that end, Extra Mile commitment cards were handed out. (If you missed the meeting, the cards are available in the narthex.) The cards can be returned in the offering plate or the mail. Council suggested that each family could give an extra $10 a week to eradicate the bulk of the shortfall. Knowing that some might give more, and other may not be able to give that much. Council also kicked it off with their commitment of $5,000 towards balancing the budget.


We were in agreement about being more "green" as well. The Greening of Messiah resolution passed handily--although I'm thinking people will perhaps disagree later when it comes to sacrificing for that goal. No matter, we'll work it out.

As we will the other differences of opinion we have. We may disagree whole heartedly, but there still won't be divisions among us. Because--here's the rest of the verse:

"...but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose." --v 10b

That mind is the mind of Christ. That purpose is living out the promise of our baptism--spreading the good news that in Jesus, God has entered into the creation for its renewal and restoration--and that this new life is for all people! Even when we differ, we can agree that Jesus is the source and font of God's love, and work together to let that be known.

If you were there at Annual Meeting, count yourself lucky to have witnessed the body of Christ in action--working as a group of individuals joined around the one truth that can not fail. Working for the good of the church and the good of those who have that Jesus-sized hole that requires filling.

If you weren't there, I wish you had been. For our sake, as the body is more than the sum of its parts and needs all parts to be all it can be. And for your sake, as the hard work of relating to each other through disagreement is good practice for life in general. Hope we see you for the next one!

God of all, you bring us into the church and make us one. Help us to use that unity to make that church effective, loving, and righteous. Amen

Desperately Seeking Jesus (sermon draft 1/20/08)

John 1:29-42

A couple of scenarios, to illustrate…

Scenario number one. I’m sitting at home on the couch, minding my own business, watching another scintillating episode of that informative television show, American Idol, when suddenly I’m hungry. No mater that we finished dinner barely an hour ago. I’m starving! So, I drop my remote, hot foot it into the kitchen, and open the fridge. And stand there looking. Top shelf, middle shelf, bottom shelf, crispers. Full to the brim with food. Top shelf, middle shelf, bottom shelf, crispers. Not one thing that looks like something I’d want. Middle shelf, top shelf, bottom shelf, top shelf—(forget the crispers only vegetables there). Bottom shelf, door, freezer—nothing!

Scenario two. I’m working in my office, typing away on the sermon for the week, trying hard not to make it so exciting and compelling that people jump right up out of their seats and run to do the Lord’s work immediately, leaving the church empty—when I get a sudden notion. I need the scotch tape I left in the pulpit after last week’s children’s sermon. Because you never know when you might have to scotch tape something.

So I get up and start towards the sanctuary. On the way, however, I see that the flowers have moved off the shelf in the sacristy—leaving room for the box of nativity figurines sitting on the arm chair in my office.

So I go and grab the box, and stow it up on the shelf, safe and sound—at least till I get my hands on it next Christmas Eve. That done, I walk into the sanctuary, to get what I originally wanted. But, suddenly, I catch a glimpse of life in the hereafter. Because I can no longer remember what I came here after! Not a clue.

Scenario three. I’m walking into the ER in a hospital in Norway, Maine. It’s after midnight and I have been called in because I am the volunteer chaplain this week. It had been quiet up to this point—I made the usual rounds to visit patients on Wednesday, and never expected to get paged—we very rarely did. But this evening a 50 year old man and his wife went to see the races at Oxford Plains Speedway just outside of town. They had a wonderful time cheering on their favorite drivers. Then, he left to go to the restroom while she stayed put—holding on to their bleacher seats. He never came back.

And now she is sitting in the sanitized florescent bleakness of a hospital trauma room with his dead body, son and daughter-in-law nearby—all waiting for the chaplain to come and make sense of it all. It’s a room in which all mental and spiritual resources are tapped out just trying to assimilate the realization that he’s not waking up, that he’s not walking out of here, that he’s not going to be there for birthdays and grandchildren and Christmases to come, that he’s dead…that there is no hope. And I’m walking into that ER, God’s representative in a room in which God is not so welcome at the moment, to talk with a family desperately seeking something—anything.

Another scenario, this one from today’s gospel. The Baptist points his disciples in the direction of Jesus, calling him the Lamb of God, not once, but twice. That’s not something you’d call just anyone. That’s Messiah talk! Well, exactly two of those disciples can take a hint, so they go over to Jesus, and perhaps at a loss for what to say, they just take to following him, like puppy dogs. Following from place to place, seaside to hillside and back again. Jesus turns and sees them tagging along, and he asks them a strange question. Not what you’d think—not, “Why are you following me?” or “What do you want?” or “What are you, stalkers?” But this: “What are you looking for?” What are you looking for?

The answer is deceptively easy—“You—we’re looking for you, Jesus bar Joseph of Nazareth, the one whom our master calls Lamb of God. We’re looking for the Messiah. The anointed of God. We’re looking for power, for freedom, for salvation, for righteousness, for justice, for peace, for healing, for forgiveness, for wholeness, for hope! We’re looking for you, Jesus. We’re desperately seeking Jesus, the Christ. Are you he?”

The answer is deceptively easy—but the two tag-alongs can’t even wrap their mouths around the simplicity of his name. Instead they blurt out, “Where are you staying, teacher?” And Jesus’ answer fits that question, but it also invites them to find the answers to all their unexpressed longings and questions, as well. “Come and see,” Jesus says to them—and to us.

I wonder. What are you looking for? Do you know? As you sit there in your chair and wonder if the Annual Meeting will be over before the opening kickoff, what are you looking for? As you contemplate later on the difference between our response to God’s abundance and the cost of doing ministry in this mission outpost—what are we looking for? As you think about where this church as been and where we want it to go—what are we looking for? Do you know what you’re looking for?

As a visitor, who was somehow drawn here this morning—by an invitation, perhaps, or after looking us up on the internet—as a visitor do you know what you’re looking for here?

As someone who is hurting this morning, knocked down and dragged about by life, wondering if God is supposed to be our protector why he was lying down on the job in your case—as someone who is mad at God or doubting whether God’s really there at all—what are you looking for? What are you looking for here?

The answer is still deceptively simple. What are we all looking for? (Jesus) Jesus is the one we’re looking for. The problem often is this: we can’t get our minds to wrap themselves around that concept. Like those two disciples who asked Jesus, “Where are you staying?”, we choose to look for something else in which to place our trust. We choose to look for anything that will give us instant relief from our problems, instant gratification for our efforts, and instant answers to our questions.

Remember scenario number one? Top shelf, middle shelf, bottom shelf, crisper? That illustrates those of us who hunger for something—though you can’t put a finger on just what. And despite all the world has to offer—good and bad, you just can’t seem to find what you’re looking for.

And scenario number two? That represents those of us who have been to the mountaintop, have experienced God’s love flowing into them. But then life got busy, the kids have the flu, and concerns and worries creep in. And you just can’t seem to recapture that feeling, that feeling you used to have each Sunday as you worshiped together.

Number three doesn’t really need explanation—it stands for those of us who have come to the end of the rope, whose faith has been stretched to its elastic limit, those beset by disease, dysfunction, and disaster—those for whom there appears to be no hope. Those who have just about given up looking.

To all these ones, to all these misguided and mistaken searchers, who ask all the wrong questions and chase after the wind, Jesus says, “Come and see.”

When nothing satisfies, come and see what Jesus has to offer. Grace, peace, and mercy. Forgiveness in the wine and bread that is his body and blood. See the poor being cared for, the rich joyfully giving of their resources, the sick and imprisoned visited and prayed for.

When you can’t remember what first brought you here, remember what Jesus has done in your life and come and see what he’s doing right now in the life of this church. See children grown into fine young Christian adults. See families grown to include new grandbabies baptized at this font. See the people served. See the smiling faces at worship. See the new members God has brought us. Look into the future and see the vast potential God has entrusted to us—to us—Messiah Lutheran Church

And when all hope is gone, come and see that Jesus is hope. Jesus is the light. Jesus is life. See people praying for each other, delivering meals, standing in solidarity with those for whom the bottom has dropped out of life. See beyond the bleakness of the world to the community of faith where hope is taught, sung, read, preached and lived. See beyond this life to the promised kingdom of God where there are no more tears, no more sickness, no more broken-ness, where there is peace, where there is mutual respect.

Yes, we’re all looking for something to fill that Jesus-sized hole in us. The good news for today is that there is a Jesus-sized Jesus given by God to fill that whole. To make us whole. Where does one find it?

Come and see… Amen

One for the Money Leadership

Lisa and I are headed down to the Franciscan Retreat Center in Andover MA for a one day retreat on Money Leadership. This event is designed to help leaders in the church talk about money without carrying the baggage of their hangups surrounding it. To see money as just another resource God has provided for us to use to help others. Part of the session will be working on a Money Autobiography--tracing your attitudes on money throughout your life's story.

Anyway...I'll tell you about it when I get back. Until then-may God bless you and keep you safe and secure in his tender compassion and mercy!

Pastor

Snow Good

Another snow day. Fortunately I have a job that allows me to work via the net, phone and computer. So I spent the day studying and writing and emailing and talking. And praying for those of you out in the elements.

I hope you had a safe day. And that you get to enjoy the snow! Snow kidding!

Thought for the day (from Martin Luther):

"Everything that is done in the world is done by hope. "

Who? (sermon draft for 1/13/08)

Grace and peace be with you from our Father God, and from the Son, the Messiah, the Light that shines in the darkness, Jesus, our Savior and Lord.

Some things that I learned in grade school I can still remember, believe it or not. Things like the first few lines to the poem “Paul Revere’s Ride.” Listen my children and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere. The capital of New Jersey. Trenton. And what a good journalist is looking for in a story. The who, what, when, where and how. All those questions get answered in a good news story.

I also remember a few things from seminary. For instance, a good theologian, looks for the what, the “so what,” and the “now what” in a story. Those questions get answered in a good sermon. Not that theologians ignore the who, what, where, when, and how of a biblical passage. Quite the contrary—they examine each one carefully to see where the import lies. Is it a “how” passage—one that examines how something is accomplished? Or is it a why? Why God flooded the earth, why people are so reluctant to trust God for everything.

So, finding out which of the five is most important helps a theologian determine the “what” of the sermon. So, strangely enough, the what of the sermon might very well be a what—but it could just as well be a where, or even a why. You follow? Once you determine the “what”—“what God is doing in this passage?”—then you can go on to the so what, or “what does it matter to us?”, and the now what, as in “what are we going to do in response to this information?”.

Now—maybe you’re wondering “what?” As in what the heck is he talking about? Let me simplify. When I read through the lectionary for the week, I’m looking for the meat and potatoes of the gospel—the good news for you and me. And to some extent, I’m looking for whatever there is in the other readings that supports that. Sometimes that comes to me by asking the text “What?” What is God doing here? What is sin? Sometimes it’s another question that does it for me.

Let’s look at today’s gospel and see where that takes me, shall we? Because there are several good questions to be asked of it—but only one will make it into the sermon!

So, I begin with the two most obvious by asking, is this a “what?” or a “why?” passage from Matthew’s gospel? Are these the questions to ask of it? One thing’s for sure—the scene is sparse—short—without great detail. You’d almost have to think that if “Matthew” was going to wrestle with the “what,” that is, “what is baptism?” he would have invested more than four verses. So this passage is not mainly about baptism, per se. Similarly, if the “why” of “why did Jesus get baptized in the first place?” was paramount, then Matthew was certainly capable of more than the cryptic, “to fulfill all righteousness.” At first glance I would have guessed that either of these two was it—but there’s obviously something more important.

Perhaps, then, this is a “where?” Answer being by the Jordan River, location of other famous bible passages [such as Jacob wrestling with God, the people of Israel crossing over to the promised land, Elijah also crossing Jordan before being taken up into heaven (interesting!), and Naaman washing in the Jordan to cure leprosy]. But the where’s hardly ever cut it when it comes to proclaiming a sound, theologically astute message. The main idea of the gospel can’t be found solely in a place. Of course the realtor’s mantra (location, location, location) rings true here as well, so certain places can evoke fine metaphors for the explication of a passages’ underlying tones of law and grace. Golgotha, Jerusalem, and Zion to name three. But, alas, in this case, the Jordan just happens to be where this takes place. Important, but not vital.

How about “how?” How does Jesus become Messiah? Is he “adopted” at his baptism? [there’s a fine heresy that holds that true] Consecrated? Commissioned? Already it? I already told you this was a short passage—it couldn’t possibly pack any of those punches!

We should briefly consider “when?” Coming as it does at the beginning of Jesus ministry and the end of John’s (he’s arrested a scant twelve verses later), this could be seen as the inaugural moment for Jesus mission, and the always-planned “lesser-ing” for John. The watchman has announced the arrival of the bridegroom and so goes home to bed. This would explain John’s expressed confusion and reluctance about baptizing Jesus, too. But “when” seems to me an extravagant use of even so very few verses, not to mention a whopping good story. Something like “when” could have been accomplished in a sentence. Luke does that historical placement well, but Matthew seems to prefer idioms like “in those days,” and “then…”. But, oh, I said we’d look at “when” briefly, and now it’s taken up more time than “how!” Sorry. Moving on…

That leaves but one tool in our journalistic belts—“who? Not who is John, but who is this Jesus? There’s already been a ramp up to this in Matthew’s gospel—a genealogy, a birth narrative, and a visit from the stargazing wise men of the east. Each gives us a little more information about this Jesus. He’s in the Davidic line and a Jew extraordinaire (traces his roots back to Abraham!), the prophets spoke of his birth, people come from far off to worship him at his birth, and then John sets the stage working the crowds into such frenzies, they soon question whether he was the one to come. John lets them know he is not.

All that builds into this climatic moment at the Jordan “Who is this Jesus,” is the question that will be answered definitively, if not exhaustively. Jesus is the one anointed with the Spirit. Jesus is the beloved Jesus is God’s Son who bridges the communication gap between heaven and earth by rending the heavens open. Jesus is God’s Son who is one of us, yet much more. Jesus is God’s Son, and God recommends him to us highly!

What could be more important than that? Nothing! So basically the who of this text is the what of the sermon. What is the good news? The good news is that Jesus is God’s Son, the Beloved, with whom God is well-pleased.

Now, that important bit of work out of the way, we proceed on to the next sermon question—so what? What does it matter that God claims Jesus as God’s own—especially right at the beginning of his ministry? It matters because that claim frames everything Jesus says and does in the rest of the gospel as divinely ordained. Everything—the healing, the preaching and teaching, the miracles, the kind words and gestures—all please God, because they are done by his Beloved Son. That mattered to the first Christians who gathered around to hear Matthew tell the story of Jesus of Nazareth. They were excluded and abused for their belief in Christ. The voice of God declaring Jesus Son of God was extremely important to them. For us, the witness of the gospel writers, and the long, long line of subsequent believers speaks loudly to our modern day doubts about Jesus.

So, that’s the so what? How about the now what? To answer that let me tell you that there is another “who” to ask of this text—and it is “who are we?” Who are we now that we hold this information about Jesus?

We are the ones hungry to know more about him. We are the ones who now have direct access to God in Jesus. We are the ones who also are baptized with water and the Spirit. We are the ones who came after the one who came after but who was before all things. We are the people of God in Christ Jesus.

Now what? Maybe it should be “now, who?” What do we do with this identity? Flip to the end of Matthew. Know what it says? It says, “Go and baptize.” Reveal Jesus as the Son of God to more and more people! Make them disciples with you. That’s what!

Epiphany is about what’s not so obvious suddenly becoming clear. About God that is (and Jesus, too). It’s like looking at something in the dark, and then a light snaps on and everything’s right there to see. The baptism of Jesus tells us a little about baptism, but a whole lot about Jesus. Similarly, the Isaiah text tells us what the new Israel is to be like—a servant nation.. We can take that to count for us as well. And the passage from Acts stands in for a creed at the baptisms of Cornelius and family—again i.d.-ing just who Jesus is to the community of faith. He is Lord of all. He was anointed by God with the Holy Spirit. He healed and did other good things for those oppressed by the devil. God was with him, even when he died on the cross. And God raised him from the dead. The Acts reading also identifies our response – we are witnesses, we eat and drink with him at the messianic table, we preach and teach and tell about all he has done for us, and most importantly—we receive forgiveness from him.

I find what John says to Jesus when he presented himself for baptism to be our line, too: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Despite our sinfulness, Jesus seeks us out, like a lost coin, like a prodigal son, like a fruitless tree, like a wayward lamb, like a weed among the grain, like an eye with a log in it, like a seed on rocky ground, like a man three days dead. Jesus, son of God comes to us. As the great theologians Wayne and Garth once said, “We’re not worthy!” And yet, because he is who he is (Yahweh) he not only comes to us, but he makes us God’s Beloved too! Thanks be to God!

Epiphany Fire Photos

Well, we got the slideshow to work, though not as blogspot would have done it. There is a link to click on called Messiah photos. It may be agonizingly slow for some of you. Sorry. Hopefully it will work well on your computer and you'll enjoy seeing what you missed epiphany night, or reliving those giddy Epiphany moments! As we continue to take photos of church events, they'll be available here.

Epiphany is "the season of light" in which the light comes upon us--in Jesus, in aha! moments when our faith seems clear to us, in the ways we are to live life as God's people. This Epiphany think about how light has come into your life recently. Tell others about it. Give the credit to God. And be thankful. For the light is life (John 1).

Basking in the light,
Pastor Tom

Ah, Technology!

I've neglected to post the last few days. Been busy trying to get a new feature of the pantry to operate correctly. If it ever does, you will be able to see the latest photos from church events on the blog! Right now, it either shows someone else's photos, or none at all. So back to the drawing board, eh?

Keep checking back--we'll get it soon.

Pastor Tom

PS It's located in the left sidebar, scroll down a ways

Stars in our Eyes (sermon draft 1/6)

In case you’re unawares, there’s a little to-do going on in our fair state of New Hampshire this coming Tuesday. First in the nation primary election. I’m just about sick of hearing about it. But it’s an integral part of our democratic process—which is thought to be the best in the world (unless you’re Al Gore!). But sometimes it can become just a wee bit tedious. Like with the television ads.

Political commercials have been just out of control this past week. First of all there are so many. Sometimes six in a row. That wouldn’t be so bad if each candidate had a variety of spots to air. But, no, they just air the same ones over and over and over! Mind numbing!

And the content! Honestly, you gotta wonder if their writers are out on strike too. Some of these ads are meant to be inspiring, but in actuality, they’re about as uplifting as that “Heads On” commercial. Some of the ads are meant to criticize an opponent’s record, outrageously so. But if you listen carefully, the position stated for the one whose ad it is has little to do with the original issue.

Some other political ads are meant to sow the seeds of unfounded fear—there are lots of this kind of political ad out there, and let me tell you - it bothers me. I’ll tell you why in just a minute, but first here’s an “fear ad” you’ve never heard:

Illegal immigrants. From a terrorist nation. With a strange religion. Bearing large, unchecked items of luggage. Welcomed into the country with open arms. Given camel-driving licenses and directions to a sensitive religious site. Who’s responsible for this massive security breach? King Herod, tetrarch of Galilee. He never checked their visas. He just gave them the information they needed. He even invited them back for lunch at the palace on their return trip. But they never showed up. Even foreigners know King Herod hasn’t got what it takes to lead this territory. Isn’t it time for a change in Jerusalem? (Paid for by Citizens for Total Roman Rule and the Committee to get rid of King Herod.)

Cute. And humorous. (I hope.) But perhaps it hits a little too close to our present day reality, or that is—our perceived reality. What the powerful would have you believe. Not that I’m going to get all “grassy knoll” on you or anything. It’s just that I don’t want you to go overboard with the politicos and pundits, and start calling for walls and dogs and machine guns at our borders. The world’s been down that road before. So, I take this opportunity to give you an alternate reality, a biblical reality—one based fortuitously enough on today’s Epiphany story of the visitors from the east. So let’s have at it…

First of all, they weren’t kings—they were wise men, magi, court priests who practiced astrology. (Much like the advisors Reagan had.) There weren’t three of them (this we know for certain—could have been three, could have been one hundred and three.) They might have not even been men—they did stop for directions! (Just kidding on that one!) Their names are unknown to us, despite popular belief.

We do know they came from the east, it says so. We do know they were following what they called a star (which quite possibly may have been a comet). We do know they believed the star was the portent of the birth of a new king in the land. We do know they stopped in Jerusalem asking about this “new king,” which freaked out not only the old king—Herod, but all his political cronies in that city who suddenly feared for their jobs.

We know this: when they got to Bethlehem, they didn’t have to jockey for position at the manger with the shepherds—they entered a house (presumably where Mary and Joseph lived for nearly two years). And we know that they gave the child gifts—not binkies, blankets, or diaper service—but expensive gifts like gold, frankincense, and myrrh (which, by the way, was used to prepare bodies for burial. Not your usual baby shower gift!).

So, there’s some things we know, and some things we can only guess, about these “wise men.” But one thing we know for absolute certain—they were foreigners. Probably from Parthia—modern day Iran. They were “from away.” They were out-of-towners. Outsiders. Aliens (not the Roswell kind). They were strangers. And the fact that, in the gospel of Matthew, the first ones to pay homage to the new born king are Gentiles (foreigners—not Jews) is huge! Huge! Why, you might ask? Well, let me tell you why.

Because we’re foreigners too. But that’s okay. In fact it’s better than okay, because God has a soft spot in his heart for foreigners. Let’s look at each of these premises and see what we can learn about God’s grace.

First, we are foreigners. In the eyes of ancient Palestinian Jews, if you weren’t a Jew by birth, you were a Gentile—no matter where you lived—it wasn’t a geographic thing. Even if you converted to Judaism (then you would be a proselyte). Since the people of Israel were the Lord’s chosen ones—the people of the promise—if you weren’t “in,” then you were “out.” But it’s more than a birthright thing. Even some of Israel’s closest “relatives,” the Samaritans, were considered Gentile or simply “not Jew.”

So, in the scheme of things, although we consider ourselves to be in the lineage of Abraham, technically we are not. We are Gentile—foreigners. Of course, with the coming of Jesus, that all changes. And “Matthew” begins to reveal and explain that change right away in his gospel. In his rendition of this visit, the wise men are symbolic of the people of all nations (ethnos in the Greek), coming to pay homage to Jesus.

Which harkens backwards to our first reading today from the prophet Isaiah—which told of a promised time to come when all the world would come to honor Israel in her restored glory and splendor. But it also hearkens forwards to the mission to the Gentiles and the spread of the good news outside the confines of God’s people of Israel. In fact, both Jesus and St. Paul speak of the Gentiles as being “grafted on” to the root stock of the chosen nation of Israel.

Scholars tell us that the first listeners of Matthew’s gospel, the members of his “church,” were most likely Jewish Christians or Christian Jews—the difference between which is not germane to this discussion—suffice it to say the church of Matthew was on the out and outs with the Jewish community at large. And this caused them great distress. After all, they couldn’t pick their birth place or parents. So, is it any wonder that Matthew includes this story while the others do not? It addresses their situation, and it makes them (via the vehicle of the wise men), foreigners though they are, the heroes of the story. The foreign wise men are smarter than the local magi, who have to be prompted to notice the star. They outwit even the evil genius Herod. And they “discover” the child of Bethlehem, and, even better, they recognize him for who he is! The King of the Jews. Hooray for the wise men of the East!

Hooray for Matthew’s church-goers. And hooray for us, foreigners that we are. We also journey through the wilderness of life, following the callings of the Spirit. We are also led to the place where he can be found. We also recognize the king and come to pay him homage. We also bring him our gifts. Makes a stranger feel welcome.

And that’s good, because like I said, God has a soft spot for foreigners. Especially in the Old Testament. God advocates for the alien in Israel’s midst. [Now, we’re not talking foreign armies here. Those the Lord God either destroys of lets them destroy Israel—depending how Israel has been acting.] There’s law after law in the Torah concerning the fair treatment of foreigners. Now, granted, these were foreign workers who weren’t paid well (or at all). But the fact remains that God wished the Israelites to treat strangers with respect and equity.

So what does all that frivolous information have to do with us here at Messiah Lutheran Church this beautiful epiphany morning? Well, it tells us a little bit about how we should receive visitors and welcome them into this fellowship. First of all, to not call them “strangers” as one gentleman in my former parish was want to do. But, rather, to acknowledge that they are on a journey, looking for something or someone without really knowing where to find it. And that they come to us, not so much for the answers, but more for direction.

We can point to the scriptures, or to worship, or to outreach, or to our personal experiences to help guide them. Perhaps some of us are still on that same journey and could team up with them. We can pray that their star will lead them to Christ. And when they arrive at their destination and behold the king and worship him, we can be there beside them, welcoming them into the family!

Now, I left you hanging back there when I was talking about political fear ads. Said I was bothered by them—especially when they disingenuously rouse up unfounded or exaggerated fear. First, let me say emphatically that I don’t mean to tell you who to vote for Tuesday. But I will tell you that “foreigners,” be they legal or illegal, are still created by God, and so being are worthy of our respect, our compassion, and our help. Granted there is need of some sort of regulation—but that should be humane, equitable, and based on the same principles of law that we as people enjoy. That’s God’s law I’m talking about.

It’s a complex issue, but here’s what I do know. Pastor Robert Wawurontu of Imanuel Indonesian Lutheran Church, which meets at Holy Trinity, Newington, has told us pastors horror stories of families being torn apart by the bureaucracy and ever changing policies of the Immigration office. And these are “legal” immigrants. In other areas of the country, churches have literally become sanctuaries for undocumented persons who face deportation without regard for property and family that would be left behind. Jesus said, “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Again, it’s a highly complicated issue, with fervor and frenzy on both sides. But it seems to me, as a theologian, God expects foreigners to be treated a certain way—Jesus too—remember the Syrophonecian woman and the Samaritan woman and the Genessarene demoniac? To name just a few? Keep these things in mind as you work this issue out in your head.

Okay enough soapbox time. A story to finish up:

An incumbent president was speaking at a rally when he was heckled by a man in the front row. The man contradicted each and every point the president made. Finally the president could stand it no longer.

“I’ve cut taxes and kept our economy booming. Will the man there in the front row kindly get up and tell us all what’s he’s ever done for this country?”

“Well,” said the man as he stood up, “I didn’t vote for you in the last election!”

I’m Pastor Tom Teichmann, and I approved this message. AMEN

For Epiphany at home

Here's a little service of home blessing you can do on Sunday, the day of Epiphany.

Epiphany Home Blessing

Leader: May peace be to this house and all who enter here.

By wisdom a house is built and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures.

Reader: As we prepare to ask God’s blessing on this household, let us listen to the words of scripture:

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 the people.

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. From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.

Inscription – 20 + C M B + 08

Leader: The Magi, known from of old as

C Caspar

M Melchior, and

B Balthasar

followed the star to Jesus…

20 two thousand

0 and eight years ago.

+ Christ bless this house

+ and remain with us throughout the new year.

Blessing:

O God, you revealed your Son to all people

by the shining light of the Star.

We pray that you bless this home and all who live here

with your gracious presence.

May your love be our inspiration, your wisdom our guide,

your truth our light and our benediction;

through Christ our Lord, Amen

AND - come to the chili dinner and Epiphany bonfire Sunday at 5pm!

Pastor

I Wonder as I Wander

I wonder....

...why the foods that taste so good are the ones that are so bad for you?

...what "#13," who inspected my new jeans and left his/her card in the pocket, is like?

...how they can call pizza made in any other state but New York, New York pizza?

...when it became "un-Christian" to respect the right to freedom of religion?

...where God Spirit is moving at this moment?

...who is in need of my faith in action today?

I Resolve

New Years is the time for resolutions. Here are some of mine for 2008...

I resolve to:

eat better (not more--better)

exercise (walking when it's nice)

read once a day (1 hr) instead of putting it off

learn a new hymn every month (you'll hear more about this one)

clean out the pantry closet and front basement at the parsonage

do something I've never done before - once a month

read through the Message entirely

Keep at least most of these resolutions!!

What are your resolves for the new year?

Pastor