Sunday, December 26, 2021

The Waiting is Over

December 26, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 2:41-52 [1]

Whew! Finally! The waiting is over. The big day has come and gone and we can all let out a big sigh of relief. Hopefully your festival went as usual, all the houseguests have left, no one was left behind, and it’s time to relax, recover, and rest up for the New Year. Unless, that is, you have children to take care of. The angels left, the shepherds went back to work, and Mary and Joseph are faced with the challenges that come with raising a teenager. No, I don’t think they did much relaxing.

I imagine they were scared, hoping they’ll do a good job as parents. If what we have heard is to be believed, God has big plans for this kid. We haven’t heard much about the childhood of Jesus. Luke has this one brief tale of the twelve-year-old Jesus ditching his parents and visiting the temple in Jerusalem to ask questions of the teachers. And then we jump ahead to adulthood. Jesus has increased in wisdom and in years and is ready now to begin the work, to answer the call.

When we see this adolescent Jesus, he is quite precocious. Sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, he demonstrates amazing understanding and wisdom. When his parents finally find him, to take him home, he’s a little snarky when he says “Why were you searching for me?” Gosh, mom, didn’t you KNOW where I was? OF COURSE I would be in God’s house. But then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. What a nice boy, so well behaved. At least for this quite short segment about Jesus as a child.

My children are not quite so well behaved. I would not describe them as disobedient, though probably snarky would fit. They don’t show a lot of understanding when we tell them it’s time to get of their phones, or how silly behavior might not be appropriate for a given situation. And so, it helps me to think that a more authentic description of Jesus as a child would be a little less perfect. Did Jesus talk back to his mother? Did he ruin his nice clothes by playing in the mud? Did he have a party in the house when his parents were gone, spill the wine on the carpet, then try to clean it up with dish soap?

We only get this one glimpse at the young Jesus. And perhaps that’s all we need. After all, Jesus was a real person just like us, and so probably had an upbringing that was fairly typical, though maybe just a little exceptional. And his parents did their best with what they had.

Fortunately, Mary and Joseph raised Jesus as a member of a community. When they travelled to Jerusalem for the festival, they went with a caravan, and assumed Jesus would be safe with the group. It was a community committed to the covenants, the promises between God and Israel through Abraham, Moses, and the Prophets.

We also raise our children as members of a covenant community, this church community, committed to the new covenant in Jesus Christ. And as our children increase in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor, we will set them free to face their destiny. We hope and pray that that destiny will be filled with light and peace. They are not outsiders, but members of the community committed to Christ. As Jesus was welcomed into the group listening to the teachers in the temple, we welcome our younger members to ask questions and seek answers in the safety of this group of travelers. And if we have prepared them well, our young folk will continue the work and the calling of this congregation seeking to fulfill God’s Word.

It is a lot of responsibility. None of our children will grow up to be Jesus Christ. And yet, each of them, and each of us, contains the Spirit of God in our hearts. We are all children of God. We are all capable of bringing some measure of redemption, some of the light of God’s glory to the world around us.

Sometimes we don’t. When the waiting is over, the Christ has come, we are supposed to be changed – and change is scary. The moment comes and we let it pass us by. The big day arrives and we’re afraid to move, to act, to change, to stop waiting.

Waiting is comfortable. We know what to expect. But when what we’ve been waiting for happens, everything gets upended and we have to get moving.

When Mary and Joseph brought the infant Jesus to be blessed at the Temple in Jerusalem, they met some people who had been waiting, unchanging, for a long time. The prophet Anna had been waiting there in the temple for eighty-four years. She probably had a routine of fasting and prayers, the same each day and night, a comfortable rhythm. She never left the temple and perhaps feared the dangerous and troubled world outside its walls. But Jesus came to the temple. The waiting was over. “At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.” Anna got moving.

Simeon had been waiting, we don’t know how long, to see the Messiah, knowing that he would not die until he did. The end of waiting means a very big change for him. But the Messiah came. The waiting was over. “Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus… Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, ‘Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace.’” Simeon moved on.

After college I took a job at a bank. Just something to pay the bills while I waited to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life. It was nine years before my waiting was over, and by then I had grown pretty comfortable with my routine. But I got moving. I applied to seminary and accepted the call to serve God in ministry. Change for me meant leaving my hometown, moving to a tiny apartment in Chicago, and starting school again. It was very hard to leave that old life behind. I left my family, my friends, and many things I loved. I fell to a low point of loneliness and sadness in that time. But with the help of my new community, the strength and wisdom I had gained as I waited, and with some faith in the calling I had received, I began to rise from that low point and in my new life I began to shine.

The change that comes at the end of the waiting is usually hard. There is loss. Moving in a new direction takes a lot of energy. There are those who will oppose the change, and will reveal their inner thoughts. You may feel as though a sword has pierced your soul. It did mine. I remember thinking, “What have I done?” and I cried out to God. But with the help of those around you, with faith in the strength of God to see you through, and with the knowledge that the light of the world has come into your heart, you can face the end of waiting and the beginning of something new.

When the waiting is over, a decision must be made. Which way shall I go, which choice shall I choose? Maybe it is facing a decision, choosing one thing and losing another, that causes us to keep waiting. We fear making the wrong choice, or losing out on one thing because we have chosen something else. My favorite songwriter, David Wilcox, puts it succinctly:[2]

I was dead with deciding - afraid to choose,
I was mourning the loss of the choices I'd lose,
But there's no choice at all if I don't make my move,
And trust that the timing is right,
Yes, and hold it up to the light.

When the waiting is over, start moving. If you hold your choice up to the light, you’ll be moving in the direction that leads toward God. The change may mean that you fall, but don’t despair, for after the fall comes a rising. Jesus was destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel. We are a resurrection people, and though we fall, we rise again to new life, and to the fulfillment of our calling to seek the realm of God.

Jesus, the child of Mary, has come to us. Rejoice! Emmanuel has come to thee, O Israel. God is with us, residing in our hearts. He died, but see: He has risen! Alleluia! The waiting is over. The light has come. Our eyes have seen the salvation of God, prepared in the presence of all peoples. We are ready, as children of God, to face the changes that are before us. We are ready, as people of God, to answer the challenges of our time. We are ready, as beloved of God, to arise and seek the redemption of our community and our world. Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] David Wilcox, “Hold It Up To The Light” on Big Horizon copyright © 1994 A&M Records.

Sunday, December 19, 2021

The Song Goes On

December 19, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 1:39-55[1]

It’s the reason for the season: the Christmas story, the shepherds, the angels, the baby lying in the manger. We gather to sing the old carols, to hear the story read again. It is a wonderful time of gathering with family and friends, at least before COVID, of gift giving, ice skating, and warm cocoa by the fire. For most of us, Christmas is warm feelings of safety, happiness, and love.

As one writer puts it, however, “Christmas is not safe. The reason it is not safe has nothing to do with the traffic hazards around the malls, harmful toys for children, or the possibility of Christmas tree fires. Christmas is not safe because the Christ Child is not safe.”[2] God with us in the world is dangerous to the powerful, to the cruel, to the rich, and to the indifferent. Mary knew this; it was her song.

The mother of Jesus is most often portrayed as meek and mild, gentle and timid. We don’t think of her as shaking the foundations of Empire, of defying the ways of the world that put people in their place, keep them down, render them powerless. Sweet, innocent Mary has a revolutionary spirit, a vision of the world where justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.[3] This is the woman God chose to bear Jesus into the world, to raise a child who would become the Savior. Mary “recognized the ugliness of inequality. She was incensed by the brutality of oppression. Mary longed for a better world.”[4]

Mary pondered the greeting of the angel, Gabriel, wondering who this child she carried would become. The Son of the Most High, who would rule over the house of Jacob, how would he change the world? Her cousin, Elizabeth, who was thought to be barren, had conceived a son in her old age. With God nothing is impossible. With a cry, Elizabeth greeted her, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”[5] With hope burning in her heart, Mary responds with the song we know as the Magnificat.

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…

the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.

The Lord God is coming to fulfill the promises made through the prophets, and her words speak of danger to those who oppress the people.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.

This is good news for the poor, the lowly, the hungry; this is bad news for the rich and powerful. We love to sing the songs of angels, of shepherds staring in wonder, of kings from afar bringing gifts fit for a king. We don’t count this song as one of our Christmas carols, yet this is the song that gave strength and courage to centuries of downtrodden folk. Like the slaves of the old South sung of glory on the other side, that we shall overcome, those who live in an unjust, inhumane world envision a world of justice, righteousness, hope, and joy as they sing the song of God’s power to change the world. This song of Mary is the subversive protest song of the lowly, sung in defiance of the proud. Music is powerful.

As I studied for this sermon, I read the story of Víctor Jara, a folk singer in Chile at the time of the military coup led by General Augusto Pinochet. It struck a chord for me because my in-laws were living in Chile then. “Víctor Lidio Jara Martínez didn’t sing in English, nor did his songs substantially influence Western music, but the manner of his death, the symbolic silencing of his music, made him an international symbol of resistance.”[6]

In 1973, the democratically elected government of Chile was toppled by the forces of Pinochet. The rule of Pinochet was known for its horrors and oppression. Jara was a famous musician and prominent supporter of Chile’s president Salvador Allende. He was arrested the day after the coup and held in an indoor sports complex in Santiago along with some 5,000 others. Periodically, people were taken out to be tortured.

There are various stories of his last days, but it is clear that his music kept its power. Craig Watts writes, “In the midst of the brutality and abuse, he began to play and sing. He lifted his voice against the violence and destruction that was being imposed upon his people. The crowd hushed in order to listen to his songs, songs of courage and hope. His songs helped them to see beyond the pain and defeat of the moment to possibilities yet unrealized.”[7]

Jara was recognized, and an army officer stamped on his wrists. He was beaten and tortured. At one point, through split lips, he defiantly sang Venceremos (We Will Win), Allende’s 1970 election anthem. On the morning he was killed, Jara scribbled the lyrics to a final song, “Estadio Chile,” which were later smuggled out of the stadium: “How hard it is to sing when I must sing of horror/ Horror which I am living, horror which I am dying.”

Even his death did not stop the song. “The people who heard it remembered. Throughout the time Pinochet and his forces ruled Chile, the oppressed people sang the song of Victor Jara.”[8] The song goes on, and Jara’s defiance and hope in the face of fear continues to inspire. Jara has been commemorated in dozens of songs in several languages, including “Washington Bullets” by The Clash, and “One Tree Hill” by U2. James Dean Bradfield of the Manic Street Preachers has recorded an album about Jara’s life and death.

In a world of oppression, fear, and brutality, Mary sang. Mary sang, because she knew that the child she was to bear would save the world. Her song is remembered, as is her defiant courage and strength. Her son had his own music, music that would shake the world. And even though the powerful tried to stop him with violence and death, the song goes on. It is sung in the hearts of all who believe that a better world is possible, that love will win, that justice will come, and that God’s promises to our ancestors will be fulfilled.

[God’s] mercy is for those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

God’s power is in the song that goes on.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Craig M. Watts, “Singing Mary’s Song” posted on https://www.ministrymatters.com/.

[3] Amos 5:24.

[4] Watts.

[5] Luke 1:42.

[6] Dorian Lynskey, “Víctor Jara: The folk singer murdered for his music,” August 12, 2020 on https://www.bbc.com/culture/.

[7] Watts.

[8] Watts.

Sunday, December 12, 2021

What Then Should We Do?

December 12, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Isaiah 12:2-6; Luke 3:7-18[1]

John was not known for being soft. He lived in the wilderness, not the city. He was a prophet, not a priest. He came to shake things up, to preach a baptism of repentance, and prepare the way for Jesus. For us, it is worth considering how we prepare for Christmas, the arrival of the son of the Most High God. We tune our radios to the Christmas songs, decorate and bake and wrap. It is often a joyous time, though somewhat stressful as well, but we rarely think about repentance.

The thing is, we can’t get to Bethlehem and the baby in the manger without first encountering the prophet in the wilderness calling us to repentance. We can’t enjoy the fruit of the harvest if we don’t first determine if it is good to eat. For us, the year is coming to a close, and we might do well to examine the fruit that we have produced. Have we done good this year? Have we done right by the others we have encountered in our lives? How might we do better in the year to come?

John storms into our comfortable, familiar pre-Christmas planning and preparations to remind us that this should be a really big deal. “One who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals” (Luke 3:16). Santa Claus may be coming to town, but Jesus the son of God is being born, and we should take that seriously. John calls on us to reprioritize our lists and focus on the love of God and the love and care of our neighbor.

What, then, should we do? Fortunately, John offers us some practical advice. Engage in acts of mercy and justice. Share with those in need. Feed the hungry. Be fair; don’t try to get all you can get, but only what you need, and leave enough for others. Treat others with kindness, care, and respect. Be humble rather than greedy.

This is the time of year when we are most generous and outwardly focused. Churches and charities receive more donations in December than any other month of the year. Perhaps we’re grateful for making it through another year, especially one as hard as this one. Maybe as we reflect on years past we remember the good feeling that comes from giving. Whatever drives us to be generous, maybe we’re already responding to John’s call to be merciful knowing already the gift of God in Christ that we will celebrate again this year.

As we are filled with expectation, with memories of happy Christmases we’ve known, and hope for a better future, this is a good time to consider how we live out our faith. How should we act toward others in ways which reflect the faith we have in God? Let’s make unselfish choices, considering the impact we have on others. Let’s live within our means, accepting that we have what we need, and enough to share. Let’s do what is just, as John called on the tax-collectors and soldiers to do, being sure to not exploit our positions of power and privilege.

The people who gathered around John to be baptized sought to renew their commitment to God. In John’s call to baptism, to repent and commit their lives to God, John wanted to ensure that those who had followed him into the wilderness were aware of the serious, life-altering consequences of being baptized. What grows withing us that does not bear good fruit will be cut down like trees. The wheat within our hearts will be threshed, and the chaff will be burned away. Repentance means changing, ending the behaviors and thoughts that cause harm to others and to our relationship with God. It is not easy, nor painless.

Jesus, the Messiah, is coming to save us. The baptism of Christ is more than a washing clean. The fire of this baptism changes us from the inside out. This is what the church of Jesus Christ believes about baptism today. We are cleansed, renewed, and changed forever. The sins of our past are burned away and we face the new day with hearts cleaned and souls refreshed, ready to serve God and follow in the ways of our Savior.

The good news that John prepares us for, that Advents leads us to, is the new life, the changed life in Christ. With God’s Holy Spirit burning within us, we will no longer feel the pull of sin and death, but the drive to love and life. Mercy and justice become the way in which we walk through the world. Hope and peace, joy and love become part of who we are. The coming of God to live with us is what we anticipate. The gift of life in the realm of love is being born in our hearts and our spirits once again. Let us take joy in the presence of the Holy One, and rejoice in what is to come.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

Sunday, December 5, 2021

The Miracle of Peace

December 5, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 3:1-6[1]

In the story of Jonathan Toomey,[2] he needed peace. He needed to make peace with his past, the loss of his wife and child. He needed to let go of his anger, accept that they were gone, and allow himself to say goodbye and move on. He found peace within himself with the help of others who were able to give him love, patience, and purpose.

Let peace begin with me. That’s how the song goes. That is where peace must begin. It must begin with you and me. Peace is more than the absence of war, the absence of conflict and violence. Peace is a presence, the presence of connection.

Inner peace begins with a connection to our true and natural selves, that part of our being that is most in tune with God’s will for us. So, in a sense, inner peace is connection with the Spirit of God who dwells within each of us. It can be difficult to recognize that there is some part of God that lives and breathes within us, especially when we are not feeling all that great about ourselves and the world around us; but I assure you, it is there. And making or restoring that connection gives rise to serenity, the feeling of balance, and a sense of well-being.

Peace with others begins with recognizing the connection between two human beings. When we are open to seeing the shared humanity in another, when we open our hearts to feel the joy and suffering of another, it is then, and only then, that we are able to resolve our conflicts, to forgive one another, and to make peace in our relationships.

Peace in our world, and even peace in our community, requires us to connect across our many differences and learn respect and appreciation for those differences. It requires an understanding that all people have the right to justice, freedom, and dignity. And, I dare to say, peace in our world requires changing much of what we take for granted.

The way that we view the world, the assumptions that we make about “the way things are,” are often anti-peace. We think of adversarial relationships, “us” versus “them,” as normal. We view competition – I win and you lose – as a good thing. We believe in right versus wrong, good against evil, and we often enforce our views with violence.

But would it be so hard to change that way of thinking? What if we assumed that we are all in this together, that what affects you also affects me? What if we worked for win-win solutions to our problems? What if we made a commitment not to harm others, to avoid violence, force, and coercion in our relationships? What if we looked for the seeds of peace in every situation? Wouldn’t that be a miracle?

This is the time to prepare for Christmas. This is the time to prepare the way of the Lord. So when we see a path made crooked by conflict, let’s make it straight with compassion and understanding. When we see a valley dividing one person from another, let’s fill it in or build a bridge with love for one another. When we see a mountain of injustice, let’s bring it low by working for justice, freedom, and dignity for people everywhere. Let the Lord refine us, like gold and silver, until we are pleasing to the Lord.

We will not be alone as we labor for peace. The Lord God of Israel has remembered the covenant sworn to our ancestors Abraham and David. We will be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us. We will serve God without fear. We have been given the knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of our sins. God is with us, and will guide our feet into the way of peace. Blessed be the Lord our God.  Amen.

_____

Some material adapted from Louise Diamond, The Peace Book: 108 Simple Ways to Create a More Peaceful World (Berkeley: Conari Press, 2001), Introduction.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Susan Wojciechowski, The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey, illustrations by P.J. Lynch (Cambridge, MA: Candlewick Press, 1995).