I’d like you to take a moment and hear the words of introduction to our Gospel reading for today “Luke makes clear that God comes with good news for ordinary people (Mary) from little-known places (Nazareth). This king will not be born to royalty in a palace, but to common folk in a stall.” In the midst of a gospel including angels, a virgin birth, and prophecy, I think we tend to lose sight of the ordinary that is intermingled with the extraordinary. The entire story of Christ’s birth has miraculous elements—a savior coming to earth in the form of an infant, multiple encounters with angels…in our western, modern eyes, shepherds, riding on a donkey and a baby surrounded by animals has a bit of a mysterious, glowing, Disney like quality to, doesn’t it? But this Gospel, this extraordinary good news, is for ordinary people from ordinary places. For Christ coming as Emmanuel, God with us, places God among God’s people. Not above, in some far off kingdom, but not mystically below people either. If you will indulge me, the reason I emphasize the “ordinary” in this extraordinary story comes from a radical shift in the way I have come to view Jesus’ birth since our last trip to Ethiopia to bring home our son. Before the trip, I focused on the extraordinary. But in a small hut about 2 hours outside Addis Ababa, in the midst of shepherds and subsistent farmers, I encountered Emmanuel, God with us.
In order for newly adoptive parents to gain a better understanding of their child’s birth country, we take a day trip south, to see the countryside, the people, and the type of homes our birth children lived in before they came to care. Along the 3 hour bus trip, we passed literally thousands of round wooden, thatch roof huts covered with clay. Every week, the group of newly adoptive parents stop at one of these huts and are invited in by the family. We are able to take pictures, look at the crops, and experience, for a brief moment, what life is like for those living in rural Ethiopia where most of our children were born. I imagined how strange it was for this family. A bus full of mostly white, westerners pulls up to their home every week, gets out and starts taking pictures of their ordinary life. Though I’ve seen cows and goats before, I have half a dozen pictures of these animals. I know what a pot and pan look like, but I even photographed these items. The group of 20 who have descended upon this ordinary home are welcomed to touch the walls, take pictures and basically walk around the farm for about 20 minutes. The whole experience was wonderful, but a bit bizarre. What are the Ethiopians thinking? If someone came to my home and started touching my walls, I would think them a bit strange.
The homes are about the size of my HTLC office and house an entire family or extended family, perhaps 12-15 people? live in this hut. One section of the round hut has a kitchen area, another corner is a sleeping area, though there are no beds. A fire pit is in the center of the hut. But, on the other side of the home, the cattle and sheep lay in their stable--grazing, living, providing for the family just as animals did in Jesus’ day. This was a family of shepherds. The little boy held his lamb, and other sheep grazed on grass outside the hut. These were not decrepit conditions. The people took great pride in their homes, painting designs on the outside, and creating beautiful pots which doubled as art work for the walls. I didn’t feel pity, or despair for this family, and I’m not telling you this story to evoke pity or despair from you. I felt Emmanuel, and knew what it meant for GOD to be truly WITH US, among the shepherds in a small Ethiopian hut.
For the first time, I wondered, “what is it like to hear the story of Christ’s birth if you are born in a situation similar to his, when a manger isn’t a last resort, but commonplace?” How different this story is for me as I humbly consider that my son was born in conditions not to different from those we read about in the Gospel. Emmanuel…Today, at the end of 2008, almost half the world’s population lives on a dollar a day. TODAY, half the world’s population will hear (not READ, but HEAR) the story of a baby born in a manger, visited by shepherds, to a young, scared, newly married girl, and hear the ordinary. TODAY, the shepherds living in a small hut in Ethiopia have a deeper understanding of what it was like to live in Bethlehem in Jesus’ time than we ever could.
Consider then, the story of Jesus’ birth in Jesus’ time and place. Ordinary. Do we really believe Mary was the only pregnant woman riding in on a donkey to Bethlehem that night? How then, do we hear this story and marvel in the ordinary? How do we reside with Emmanuel? How do we reconcile that justice come out of such places, born among cattle, sheep and shepherds? A dark, seemingly hopeless place springs forth hope for the world? How do we respond to an Emmanuel who dwells among a proud people who love and value their children, yet can not raise them? God’s SON, sent to a world that can not hold Him? A world that will reject Him? Yet from the simple place where cattle graze, hope is born? Christ coming as a simple boy in a manger isn’t a sign of Him lowering Himself below us, to an awful, sad place, but rather being born as so many are and were born. How different the story is to those also born among grazing cattle.
That night, I went back to our guesthouse to sleep in my bed, but I couldn’t sleep, thinking of the huts, the hard ground and cattle as I lay in my bed. I touched, cried, and prayed with members of the family of God, knowing they would go to sleep on a dirt floor that night. Our tears were the same, our sadness the same, our GOD the same. But I slept in a bed, fully aware that Emmanuel slept on a similar dirt floor next to shepherds. Knowing that Emmanuel STILL lays down next to those who sleep on dirt floors. That Emmanuel hasn’t left the scared, pregnant teenager. That Emmanuel is WITH US. In the midst of the extraordinary, let us not overlook the ordinary, the Emmanuel who unites His people, the people who were scattered in the darkness, in the wilderness, but are now joined together as the body of Christ. His light will not burn out, but shines equally bright for all the deserving, the undeserving, of every tongue and creed, every tribe and land. Emmanuel IS justice, the only justice in a barren, beautiful, broken, holy, splintered, whole, unjust, just world. Emmanuel IS the ordinary, extraordinary light that shines among us in the darkness, in the wilderness, in the barren, hopeless and hope filled places of our lives. Out of the wilderness, we hear, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Emmanuel is here. AMEN
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Panda Nebulizer & Normalcy
Samuel got a new nebulizer this week. A nebulizer is a machine that dispenses a mist of medicine to protect the lungs. Well, our last nebulizer looked like a piece of medical equipment. Our new nebulizer looks like this:
It's a creepy panda. The kind that stares at you, even though it's plastic. I don't trust the thing, it looks like it could come to life. And attack you in your sleep. Like a gremlin, from Hardee's book 3 (1986, remember it? we had to remove that book from our home). Yeah, i have a gremlin panda in my house, and i'm afraid i may have gotten it wet...and the darn thing messed with my clocks, so now no one is safe.
It's a creepy panda. The kind that stares at you, even though it's plastic. I don't trust the thing, it looks like it could come to life. And attack you in your sleep. Like a gremlin, from Hardee's book 3 (1986, remember it? we had to remove that book from our home). Yeah, i have a gremlin panda in my house, and i'm afraid i may have gotten it wet...and the darn thing messed with my clocks, so now no one is safe.(an apology for those who are not children of the 80s and don't know what gremlins are. And my apologies as well to those who think I've gone nuts and fear a plastic medical device....)
Things are going well on the home front. Last week Shahra and I had a "mommy party" and went shopping in Indy. I bought shoes, and we had lunch with friends. For the first time in over a month, I felt like things may one day feel normal again. We could just be mommy and daughter, shopping and eating lunch. Though it sounds small, it was such a hope fulled moment, because I really didn't know if things would feel normal again. It gave me hope.
Today, we had some more "normal" moments, and I appreciated them so much. (to back up for a moment) the first sign that something was wrong with Samuel involved speech, or the lack of it. As soon as we got home, I noticed that Samuel was making gutteral verbalizations and wasn't making any sounds from the front of his mouth. This is the opposite of normal speech development (thanks Prof T. and Linguistics 301). Babies should make sounds (like ma ma ma) using the front of their mouth first, then work their way to using other parts of their mouth to make sounds (like Geee, which he was doing).
Anyway, this was a sign of his problems. This week, we had a wonderful, happy, normal moment: Samuel started making "mama ma" "mba mba" and "ba ba" sounds, (using the front of his mouth). It feels SO good to hear him doing what he should.
We also had Dr. appointments today with the lung and stomach doctors--everything looks great. We'll follow up in 1-2 months. We've been told someday, in the not to distant future, this will all be over, and now I really believe it.
A word on grace and Christian love:
My congregation has shown all of us an amazing level of love and support during this time. For various reasons, I was really worried how people would be about Samuel's illness, my illness and the missed days of work. How would they REALLY react to the broken place we were in? Would they support us, or question my abilities?
The gestures of support, from meals, cards, gifts, and prayers have been humbling. I've talked before about the vulnerability and subsequent trust this experience has built for me, but here are some moments that showed me what grace really is:
When someone from the synod visits your child in the hospital and you're wearing monkey slippers and haven't showered in 2 days, humility hits you like a ton of bricks. When you're so sick you have to miss church (as the minister) and a couple drives 30 minutes to your messy, messy home with a meal 30 minutes after the service, you feel humility and love. There was no judgement about the mess, no anger about my inability to be at work, just concern for me and my family.
I asked the rhetorical question during my sermon: "some people may wonder where that light of hope has gone, because we don't see it, do we? My voice broke, and tears began to flow. You expect people will think you've lost it and can't do the job. After, I was greeted with 75 hugs and assurances "I'm praying for your family." I have experienced grace. It is in our most broken, uncontrolled, frightening times when we are finally forced to trust those around us, to allow them to do for us, and to experience the love they have to share.
I'll end for now. Thank you all for your love as we continue to return to "normal"
Tracy
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Sermons
For those who like reading my sermons, here are my preachings from the last 3 weeks...thanks to Rebecca for more than a little inspiration on Christ the King Sunday. Updates about the kids are below this post. Enjoy.
ADVENT 2
Perhaps you’ve watched the TV show “Survivor Man” on the Discovery Channel. On the show, our fearless host Bear Grylls takes us on adventures to far off places all over the world. He shows us how we would survive if we were lost in the wilderness, with only a knife, a jacket and our wits. He’ll demonstrate how you can live on native berries, bugs and rodents, start fires and get out alive. This former British Special Forces agent will lead you, over glaciers in Iceland. You do have to suspend reality, as you ponder, why would I be lost and alone on a glacier? Another day, Bear treks through the Amazon rain forests, and takes you on an adventure in the Sahara desert, and. But, our inventive British friend does sometimes have good, practical advice for us. As he walks through 120 degree heat in the Sahara, he tells us about mirages. On the salt flats of the desert, heat radiates off the ground and will create an illusion that an oasis is to your left or your right. Bear explains “if you chase these mirages around the desert, you will never find water, and you will die. You need to keep your eyes straight ahead, to the mountains. That’s where you will find an oasis.
Maybe none of us will get lost in the Sahara and need advanced survival techniques to get us out alive. But, I think we all may have times in our lives when we are wandering through the wilderness. Times when it feels like we are weakened by the barrenness of our surroundings and need to hear the promise that we will find an oasis and not simply a mirage. Have you ever felt you were lost, running to your left and your right, only to find when you arrive, the answer you hoped for was only a mirage? The promises that you thought were real, are only illusions, your dreams evaporating into the hot desert sky? Even though you know you need to go straight ahead to find relief, you keep going off in any and every direction, getting more lost and thirsting for an answer and never finding an oasis? Hope can’t come from the wilderness, from a barren place where nothing survives….
To often we think only despair can come out of the wilderness. We think the parched, dry places of our world can never bear fruit. We buy into the lie that the wilderness of our own lives will never bring forth a living stream. Deserts don’t bear fruit. Our personal pain can never provide us with a drink of living water. Our Gospel tells us different. Mark 1:3 proclaims “prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight!” IN THE WILDERNESS, John the Baptist’s promise breaks through telling us Christ will give us relief. The people of Jesus’ time who were hearing this message were not that different from us. They never expected to find a living stream in the desert, a place full of mirages that leave us thirsting. However, out of this barren place comes the promise of a Savior. John the Baptist tells us to make straight the path—he guides us to the oasis. Keep moving forward, towards the mountains, and you will thirst no more. John proclaims “I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” IN THE WILDERNESS hope, that not only will our thirst be quenched, but our souls will be washed clean of all sin.
Last week, I reminded you how we are coming up on darkest days of the year, how the sun’s light is falling, how some people, in the midst of the joyous holiday season, may feel separated from the light. We remember that hope can come to us in dark places, This week, we hear John the Baptist’s promise, that the light is coming to us. We don’t have to chase mirages in the middle of the desert, but instead we can keep moving towards the mountains. The source of our light, our living water, our life is in Christ. There will still be difficult times, but the bread of life and the cup of salvation we receive every week at this table will quench our thirst. We aren’t LOOKING for an oasis, Jesus, our permanent oasis stays with us.
I’ll leave you with one final thought—people never expected a voice like John the Baptists to come out from the desert. A simple man, eating wild locus and honey prepared the world for the coming of Christ. When we, as God’s people, are in our desert places, feeling like we’re in an episode of Survivor Man, with little more than a jacket, a pocket knife and our wits to keep us alive, what messages can we proclaim? When we are in our desert places, knowing an oasis is not far away, what strength will we find the strength to share the good news of Christ’s coming? When we are in our desert places, knowing the light of the world surrounds us, comforts us, empowers us, what love will we share with others who are still chasing mirages? Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight the pathways of our God. Amen.
ADVENT 1
Perhaps you already know, but we are coming up on one of the darkest days of the year. December 21 is the winter solstice, a time in which we have the shortest amount of sunlight during the year. Today in Muncie, sunrise is at 7:42 am and sunset at 5:17. The people of Nome Alaska will notice the lack of sun a bit more than us, with sunrise at 11:18 am and sunset by 4:21 pm. It seems a little odd to be talking about dark days at the start of advent doesn’t it? We are awaiting the birth of Christ, the light of the world coming to our lives. As we hear in the Gospel reading for today, it tells us that before the Son of Man comes, “the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light.” Before Christ’s birth, God’s chosen people experienced darkness, despair and sadness as they waited for the Messiah to come. Today, as we prepare our hearts in this Advent season, we still experience darkness, sadness, and pain, don’t we? In a season when it appears everyone is happy, everyone is joyous as they prepare for Christmas, the days are getting shorter, and darker. And we know that darkness and sadness are still present in people’s lives. We look to our own congregation this week after experiencing the loss of R* and D*. It very well may feel like the sun has been darkened, and the moon is not giving forth its light. Some of us don’t need proof that the days are getting shorter, the nights longer. Others may be experiencing uncertainty due to the economy, wondering how dark it can get. For families who are in the midst of brokenness, or illness, this season of anticipation may just be a reminder that the world isn’t as it should be, things aren’t the way they used to be, and it may feel like a thief has come in the night.
So, perhaps this reading, with its reminder of darkness, of images of thieves coming in the night, really is appropriate as we prepare our hearts for Advent, for the coming of the Christ child. Now, no one knows for sure, but Jesus probably was not born on December 25 on a cold, snowy hillside in Bethlehem. But for various reasons, it was decided that Christians would celebrate the birth of Christ in the midst of winter, right after the winter solstice. During the coldest, darkest part of the year. We are constantly fighting darkness and trying to bring light into the world, aren’t we? The nights get longer, and we need to turn on more lights. Our hope dims, and we need a sign of hope. We read in our Gospel today that the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give out light. But this is not all that we hear. “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my WORD will not pass away.” God’s word will live on. When you look at the Greek translations for WORD, you find it has a variety of meanings, any of which you can place in this passage and find hope. Here are a few examples “my LIGHT will not pass away.” “my TRUTH will not pass away.” “CHRIST will not pass away.” So even as heaven and earth fade, even as it seems that darkness is winning out in our lives, we hold on, know that our HOPE, our WORD, our CHRIST will never pass away.
For some people, this may not be a dark time in their lives—you may not be experiencing the loss of a loved one, worries about the health of your family, job security or other woes. And for you, we light the advent wreath. For you, we light the first candle, to remember the prophets who first told of Christ’s coming. The light shines brightly for you, in the midst of winter, to remind you of the hope that we await in the birth of the Christ child in a manger. The light shines brightly as you await the birth of your savior.
For others, this IS a dark time. Many are mourning R* and D*’s deaths. Some are mourning the brokenness in their homes and families, which is only magnified at this time of year. Others are worried about what 2009 will bring. And for you, we light the advent wreath. For you, we light the first candle, to remember the prophets who first told of Christ’s coming. The light shines for you, in the midst of your darkest days as a sign of promise and hope. It is to remind you that heaven and earth will pass away, but God’s WORD, God’s light is with you always. We light this candle as we wait with anticipation. In times of light, and in times of darkness, we may find comfort, knowing that Christ is with us, and the love of God will never leave us.
CHRIST THE KING
“I’ve never heard of a king helping poor people. Whenever some news get published about poor people asking for help either from diseases, or children's conditions or others, they just turned a blind eye.” These are the words typed on a blog written by a young person who escaped from Burma. It seems there are a lot of times that our earthly kings let us down. Doesn’t it? There are countless stories from history, past and present, about kings slaughtering the masses, denying them food, justice, peace. I’m sure YOU have wondered if a “king” or leader was turning a blind eye and ignoring the pain in our world. This was certainly the case in Jesus’ time when Roman authorities reigned and those outside the royal circle were left to fend for themselves. And then, Jesus speaks these words: “I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me. Those who did not do it to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.” There will be punishment for those who do not follow Jesus’ command. But this isn’t a text telling us that the only way we get to heaven is by doing. Instead, it begs the question: What does it mean to have faith in Christ?
Is faith just an intellectual belief that something is true, or is faith something more than that? Does faith mean we sit idly by while God does his thing, or is faith actual participation in God’s Kingdom? Does faith mean that we ignore the things that were important to Christ, or that we take up our crosses as Christ commands? Do we live our lives for what we see, or do we live our lives in faith—faith that Christ has not only redeemed us from our sins, but that God actually wants us to be a part of His Kingdom? That we aren’t just observers in the Kingdom of God, sitting on the sidelines not playing, but that we are active participants in helping bring God’s kingdom to earth? And God has invited us and said, “YOU can help!”
If you go back and read Genesis, you’ll God did not create us to be slaves. We aren’t some accident. He created us to partake in “kingly” duties. Not only does God hand creation over to us to care for, but it says God created us “in his image,” and part of God’s image is the image of a King. Because a king, while yes, is a ruler, is also a servant. Luther described a Christian as being “Lord of all, servant to none; servant to all and Lord of none.” This is what Christ is saying: those who have faith in my kingdom will also be a part of bringing my kingdom about. And in my kingdom – we clothe the poor, feed the hungry, and work for justice.
Because the problem is, when we stop partaking in being a part of building God’s kingdom, we forget who our king is. We forget who we belong to. It’s for this very reason that Christ the King Sunday was instituted.
Christ the King Sunday is actually a fairly new “holy day” on the church calendar. It was started by the Pope in 1925. Now you have to realize what was going on in Italy in 1925. Mussolini became Prime Minister of Italy in 1922 and by 1925 had declared himself the “supreme leader” of Italy. During Mussolini’s reign, he committed unspeakable atrocities against his fellow human. The King of Italy turned a blind eye, however, because he was fearful of Mussolini and his party. Christ the King Sunday was an attempt on the part of the Pope (who lives in Rome) to make a statement—CHRIST is the supreme King of us. And they remembered that their King was not a tyrant—but a servant. Their king was a king who entered into the depths of hell rather than causing it. Their king was a king who invited them to partake in helping bring heaven to earth. Their king was a king who didn’t seek to escape the harsh realities of life. In fact, their king did the opposite – he entered into those harsh realities—even to the point of death. Their king was a king who didn’t turn a blind eye to the suffering and unpleasantness in life. A king who did not worry about what the rulers of this world were going to do to him. A king who did not seek to save his own life at the expense of others. In fact, he handed his life over in order to save others.
Now this passage naturally instills a certain amount of nervousness in most of us—because we begin wondering, have I done this?—am I going to be a sheep, or a goat? Have I done enough? While this judgment seems terrifying—let us also remember the nature of our judge and King… the one who rules with love. Instead of ruling from a distant Heavenly throne, he enters into the “hell” of being human. Not only does he enter into the sometimes hellish human experience, but look at the throne he rules from: a cross.
thus a passage like this is both a warning, and a promise. A warning that our king commands us to care for those in need. It is also a promise, that we have heard of a king who cares for the poor. The poor sheep and the poor goats.
ADVENT 2
Perhaps you’ve watched the TV show “Survivor Man” on the Discovery Channel. On the show, our fearless host Bear Grylls takes us on adventures to far off places all over the world. He shows us how we would survive if we were lost in the wilderness, with only a knife, a jacket and our wits. He’ll demonstrate how you can live on native berries, bugs and rodents, start fires and get out alive. This former British Special Forces agent will lead you, over glaciers in Iceland. You do have to suspend reality, as you ponder, why would I be lost and alone on a glacier? Another day, Bear treks through the Amazon rain forests, and takes you on an adventure in the Sahara desert, and. But, our inventive British friend does sometimes have good, practical advice for us. As he walks through 120 degree heat in the Sahara, he tells us about mirages. On the salt flats of the desert, heat radiates off the ground and will create an illusion that an oasis is to your left or your right. Bear explains “if you chase these mirages around the desert, you will never find water, and you will die. You need to keep your eyes straight ahead, to the mountains. That’s where you will find an oasis.
Maybe none of us will get lost in the Sahara and need advanced survival techniques to get us out alive. But, I think we all may have times in our lives when we are wandering through the wilderness. Times when it feels like we are weakened by the barrenness of our surroundings and need to hear the promise that we will find an oasis and not simply a mirage. Have you ever felt you were lost, running to your left and your right, only to find when you arrive, the answer you hoped for was only a mirage? The promises that you thought were real, are only illusions, your dreams evaporating into the hot desert sky? Even though you know you need to go straight ahead to find relief, you keep going off in any and every direction, getting more lost and thirsting for an answer and never finding an oasis? Hope can’t come from the wilderness, from a barren place where nothing survives….
To often we think only despair can come out of the wilderness. We think the parched, dry places of our world can never bear fruit. We buy into the lie that the wilderness of our own lives will never bring forth a living stream. Deserts don’t bear fruit. Our personal pain can never provide us with a drink of living water. Our Gospel tells us different. Mark 1:3 proclaims “prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight!” IN THE WILDERNESS, John the Baptist’s promise breaks through telling us Christ will give us relief. The people of Jesus’ time who were hearing this message were not that different from us. They never expected to find a living stream in the desert, a place full of mirages that leave us thirsting. However, out of this barren place comes the promise of a Savior. John the Baptist tells us to make straight the path—he guides us to the oasis. Keep moving forward, towards the mountains, and you will thirst no more. John proclaims “I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” IN THE WILDERNESS hope, that not only will our thirst be quenched, but our souls will be washed clean of all sin.
Last week, I reminded you how we are coming up on darkest days of the year, how the sun’s light is falling, how some people, in the midst of the joyous holiday season, may feel separated from the light. We remember that hope can come to us in dark places, This week, we hear John the Baptist’s promise, that the light is coming to us. We don’t have to chase mirages in the middle of the desert, but instead we can keep moving towards the mountains. The source of our light, our living water, our life is in Christ. There will still be difficult times, but the bread of life and the cup of salvation we receive every week at this table will quench our thirst. We aren’t LOOKING for an oasis, Jesus, our permanent oasis stays with us.
I’ll leave you with one final thought—people never expected a voice like John the Baptists to come out from the desert. A simple man, eating wild locus and honey prepared the world for the coming of Christ. When we, as God’s people, are in our desert places, feeling like we’re in an episode of Survivor Man, with little more than a jacket, a pocket knife and our wits to keep us alive, what messages can we proclaim? When we are in our desert places, knowing an oasis is not far away, what strength will we find the strength to share the good news of Christ’s coming? When we are in our desert places, knowing the light of the world surrounds us, comforts us, empowers us, what love will we share with others who are still chasing mirages? Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight the pathways of our God. Amen.
ADVENT 1
Perhaps you already know, but we are coming up on one of the darkest days of the year. December 21 is the winter solstice, a time in which we have the shortest amount of sunlight during the year. Today in Muncie, sunrise is at 7:42 am and sunset at 5:17. The people of Nome Alaska will notice the lack of sun a bit more than us, with sunrise at 11:18 am and sunset by 4:21 pm. It seems a little odd to be talking about dark days at the start of advent doesn’t it? We are awaiting the birth of Christ, the light of the world coming to our lives. As we hear in the Gospel reading for today, it tells us that before the Son of Man comes, “the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light.” Before Christ’s birth, God’s chosen people experienced darkness, despair and sadness as they waited for the Messiah to come. Today, as we prepare our hearts in this Advent season, we still experience darkness, sadness, and pain, don’t we? In a season when it appears everyone is happy, everyone is joyous as they prepare for Christmas, the days are getting shorter, and darker. And we know that darkness and sadness are still present in people’s lives. We look to our own congregation this week after experiencing the loss of R* and D*. It very well may feel like the sun has been darkened, and the moon is not giving forth its light. Some of us don’t need proof that the days are getting shorter, the nights longer. Others may be experiencing uncertainty due to the economy, wondering how dark it can get. For families who are in the midst of brokenness, or illness, this season of anticipation may just be a reminder that the world isn’t as it should be, things aren’t the way they used to be, and it may feel like a thief has come in the night.
So, perhaps this reading, with its reminder of darkness, of images of thieves coming in the night, really is appropriate as we prepare our hearts for Advent, for the coming of the Christ child. Now, no one knows for sure, but Jesus probably was not born on December 25 on a cold, snowy hillside in Bethlehem. But for various reasons, it was decided that Christians would celebrate the birth of Christ in the midst of winter, right after the winter solstice. During the coldest, darkest part of the year. We are constantly fighting darkness and trying to bring light into the world, aren’t we? The nights get longer, and we need to turn on more lights. Our hope dims, and we need a sign of hope. We read in our Gospel today that the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give out light. But this is not all that we hear. “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my WORD will not pass away.” God’s word will live on. When you look at the Greek translations for WORD, you find it has a variety of meanings, any of which you can place in this passage and find hope. Here are a few examples “my LIGHT will not pass away.” “my TRUTH will not pass away.” “CHRIST will not pass away.” So even as heaven and earth fade, even as it seems that darkness is winning out in our lives, we hold on, know that our HOPE, our WORD, our CHRIST will never pass away.
For some people, this may not be a dark time in their lives—you may not be experiencing the loss of a loved one, worries about the health of your family, job security or other woes. And for you, we light the advent wreath. For you, we light the first candle, to remember the prophets who first told of Christ’s coming. The light shines brightly for you, in the midst of winter, to remind you of the hope that we await in the birth of the Christ child in a manger. The light shines brightly as you await the birth of your savior.
For others, this IS a dark time. Many are mourning R* and D*’s deaths. Some are mourning the brokenness in their homes and families, which is only magnified at this time of year. Others are worried about what 2009 will bring. And for you, we light the advent wreath. For you, we light the first candle, to remember the prophets who first told of Christ’s coming. The light shines for you, in the midst of your darkest days as a sign of promise and hope. It is to remind you that heaven and earth will pass away, but God’s WORD, God’s light is with you always. We light this candle as we wait with anticipation. In times of light, and in times of darkness, we may find comfort, knowing that Christ is with us, and the love of God will never leave us.
CHRIST THE KING
“I’ve never heard of a king helping poor people. Whenever some news get published about poor people asking for help either from diseases, or children's conditions or others, they just turned a blind eye.” These are the words typed on a blog written by a young person who escaped from Burma. It seems there are a lot of times that our earthly kings let us down. Doesn’t it? There are countless stories from history, past and present, about kings slaughtering the masses, denying them food, justice, peace. I’m sure YOU have wondered if a “king” or leader was turning a blind eye and ignoring the pain in our world. This was certainly the case in Jesus’ time when Roman authorities reigned and those outside the royal circle were left to fend for themselves. And then, Jesus speaks these words: “I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me. Those who did not do it to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.” There will be punishment for those who do not follow Jesus’ command. But this isn’t a text telling us that the only way we get to heaven is by doing. Instead, it begs the question: What does it mean to have faith in Christ?
Is faith just an intellectual belief that something is true, or is faith something more than that? Does faith mean we sit idly by while God does his thing, or is faith actual participation in God’s Kingdom? Does faith mean that we ignore the things that were important to Christ, or that we take up our crosses as Christ commands? Do we live our lives for what we see, or do we live our lives in faith—faith that Christ has not only redeemed us from our sins, but that God actually wants us to be a part of His Kingdom? That we aren’t just observers in the Kingdom of God, sitting on the sidelines not playing, but that we are active participants in helping bring God’s kingdom to earth? And God has invited us and said, “YOU can help!”
If you go back and read Genesis, you’ll God did not create us to be slaves. We aren’t some accident. He created us to partake in “kingly” duties. Not only does God hand creation over to us to care for, but it says God created us “in his image,” and part of God’s image is the image of a King. Because a king, while yes, is a ruler, is also a servant. Luther described a Christian as being “Lord of all, servant to none; servant to all and Lord of none.” This is what Christ is saying: those who have faith in my kingdom will also be a part of bringing my kingdom about. And in my kingdom – we clothe the poor, feed the hungry, and work for justice.
Because the problem is, when we stop partaking in being a part of building God’s kingdom, we forget who our king is. We forget who we belong to. It’s for this very reason that Christ the King Sunday was instituted.
Christ the King Sunday is actually a fairly new “holy day” on the church calendar. It was started by the Pope in 1925. Now you have to realize what was going on in Italy in 1925. Mussolini became Prime Minister of Italy in 1922 and by 1925 had declared himself the “supreme leader” of Italy. During Mussolini’s reign, he committed unspeakable atrocities against his fellow human. The King of Italy turned a blind eye, however, because he was fearful of Mussolini and his party. Christ the King Sunday was an attempt on the part of the Pope (who lives in Rome) to make a statement—CHRIST is the supreme King of us. And they remembered that their King was not a tyrant—but a servant. Their king was a king who entered into the depths of hell rather than causing it. Their king was a king who invited them to partake in helping bring heaven to earth. Their king was a king who didn’t seek to escape the harsh realities of life. In fact, their king did the opposite – he entered into those harsh realities—even to the point of death. Their king was a king who didn’t turn a blind eye to the suffering and unpleasantness in life. A king who did not worry about what the rulers of this world were going to do to him. A king who did not seek to save his own life at the expense of others. In fact, he handed his life over in order to save others.
Now this passage naturally instills a certain amount of nervousness in most of us—because we begin wondering, have I done this?—am I going to be a sheep, or a goat? Have I done enough? While this judgment seems terrifying—let us also remember the nature of our judge and King… the one who rules with love. Instead of ruling from a distant Heavenly throne, he enters into the “hell” of being human. Not only does he enter into the sometimes hellish human experience, but look at the throne he rules from: a cross.
thus a passage like this is both a warning, and a promise. A warning that our king commands us to care for those in need. It is also a promise, that we have heard of a king who cares for the poor. The poor sheep and the poor goats.
Friday, December 5, 2008
I need Africa more than Africa needs me
This is the newest viral video about Africa that I have fallen in love with...very powerful. If the link doesn't work, go to Youtube and type in the title of this blog.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAB-zJPsJjs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAB-zJPsJjs
1 week at home
Well, it has been a week since we left the hospital. if we make it another day, we will have set a new record for days at home and out of the hospital!!! Samuel continues to do really well, he is getting used to his G tube and is much happier without the NJ tube, the tape on his face and the tube in his nose. We are working with PT, OT, speech etc to keep Samuel on track. With weeks in the hospital, Samuel's ability to play and explore were very limited. At this point, Samuel is able to do most of the things he should, but is having trouble with tummy time and rolling over due to the tube in his stomach. However, even in this week, he is getting stronger, is able to sit up, and is almost able to be on all fours. We have a big appointment with the GI and Resp. Drs next Thursday, so we are hopeful these are uneventful appointments.I have gained so much empathy for folks who have children with an illness. I worked as a hospital chaplain and think I was pretty empathetic, but this life changing event has given me a new perspective on everything. How earth shattering a "minor medical crisis" can be. How everything you planned for, all the hopes you had for the coming months can be taken in a moment. But, the grace and love we have received from our forum family, from church family, friends and others has shown me I am not in control, I can't be in control, and I can rely on others--this was HARD!! I really like to plan and be in control, and I HAD to let go, because all control felt like it was taken from me.Thank you all for your continued prayers and support. This is NOT how we expected to spend our first two months home, and I long for "normal" times again. But, I'm trying to take all this in and appreciate the love we have found from those around us. Thanks again __________________
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