Hebrews 1:1-3; Isaiah 52:7-12; John 1:1-14
It is a rare privilege to preach the Gospel on a Sunday Christmas Day, which occurs only every five or six years. The last was 2011 and the next will be 2022. The birth of Jesus is the central focus. His incarnation – the Word becoming flesh and taking up residence in the midst of humanity – gets our full attention. Traditionally Sundays are little Easters, a reminder that the highest point of our faith is Christ’s resurrection, the keystone of his triumph over sin, evil, and death, so that all who call on his name may rejoice in his everlasting love and eternal rule.
The opening verses of the Book of Hebrews, give us the opportunity to think beyond the coarseness of a manger’s straw and the earthy aroma of a stable. While his celebratory birthday may attract great attention on the secular calendar, on the church’s liturgical calendar it must never be separated from the immense story of all that is disclosed to us in Christ—in birth, life, death, atonement, resurrection, and exaltation. There is life after birth, purpose and power during a life of witness, and everlasting joy and peace in resurrection and reign.
With that as foundation, these three verses make an astounding claim that the Word becoming flesh makes connections: between God and flesh, body and spirit, the universal and the particular, the temporal and the eternal. This claim comes in verse 3: “The Son is the light of God’s glory and the imprint of God’s being.” Academic theologians pounce on this text to declare the absolute deity of Christ. Without diminishing the importance of that understanding of Christ, our Hebrews author also presents his solid humanity. This combination allows us to receive and rejoice in an unabridged Christ.
The full meaning of incarnation frames not only our knowledge of God, but also our knowledge of ourselves and of the theological significance of our bodily existence. The birth of Christ sheds a powerful light on creation, on human beings – you and me – and on God.
Michael Granzen writes that several years ago he spent the winter at Iona, a one by three mile rocky island in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Scotland. St. Columba brought Christianity from Ireland in the 560's. He used Iona as his base to evangelize Scotland and Scandinavia. Since then various monastic communities, crofters, fisherman, seagulls, and Presbyterians have clung to this bleak but beautiful isle.
Iona contains some of the oldest black surface rock on the earth and some of the worst weather. Huge storms with gale force winds blow in from the North Atlantic and rage for days. Granzen says that during one five-day storm the ferry from the island of Mull was cancelled for the week, and the fifty permanent and temporary residents lived off the larder of endless tea, oatmeal, thick stale bread, and old yellow pudding.
Twice daily people trudged though the darkness and cold to gather for worship in the abbey. There was no heat, only candlelight, and no organ, just the sound of the wind howling outside. Granzen remembers singing with that small company, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel, to ransom captive Israel, who mourns in lonely exile here... Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.” Strangely the severity of weather and life seemed to contribute to the warmth of the Spirit and community. Acknowledging the existential darkness allowed the Light to truly shine.
Wondering why that was, Granzen thinks that the more we acknowledge our hurt and brokenness the more we may receive the divine-human light. And the inverse is equally true: the less we acknowledge our hurt, fear and hostility (and project them onto others), the less we are open to the true light of forgiveness, justice and hope. In the very things that we ignore, reject, and even despise as dirty and strange, God’s incarnate light and presence is shining deep in the flesh.
In other words, says Granzen, “God is in the wound.” The prophet was right, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light. On those living in a pitch-dark land, light has dawned.”(1)
We may not live on an isolated island ravaged by the elements. Yet we live in a wounded world which is beset by the darkness of evil, despair, grief, fear, hatred, greed, poverty, and inequality. It seems like a never-ending solar eclipse but without its eerie half-light. It is like the ear-splitting roar of a tornado, the repeated lightning flashes of a violent thunderstorm, and the constant pounding of a typhoon. Event after event darkens human existence. Words insensitively bantered about walls, prisons, arms buildup, and bombing, or words filled with racist, sexist, ethnic, elitist, or gender slurs caulk the chinks in life where light could shine in.
“The Son is the light of God’s glory and the imprint of God’s being.” David Woods writes,
To proclaim that in Jesus the glory of God was revealed and that Jesus (in body and spirit) was nothing less than “the exact imprint of God’s very being,” is to declare that flesh can no longer define existence that is not-God. Flesh is God’s territory no less than spirit. The world of bodies, time, and space is God’s world through and through.(2)
So Christmas is not just about a special child born in unusual yet ordinary circumstances. Christmas is about us.
You and I often need to have documents notarized. This process verifies that you are who you say you are and willingly sign the document. Centuries ago, when everything was written out in longhand by scribes, a king would sign a document and press into a glob of warm wax his signet ring to verify that the contents of the document was the lawful order of the king.
The Hebrews author wrote, “In these final days, [God] spoke to us through a Son...[who] is the light of God’s glory and the imprint of God's being.” Not only is Jesus the radiance of God’s glory, but he is also the signet ring imprint, the exact representation of God’s being. Jesus is God himself—the very God who spoke in Old Testament times. The Greek word for “being” (hypostasis) means the very substance of God; the Greek word for “imprint" was used in ancient times to depict an image. Thus, Jesus is the visible expression of God’s invisible being. We get a perfect picture of God when we look at Christ. Jesus explains God; he came to the world and portrayed God to people by his words and actions. We know God by knowing Christ. God reveals God’s self through Jesus. The prophets could only tell God's people second-hand what they saw and heard. Jesus was God himself—his message was firsthand; there were no intermediaries.
Christ “maintains everything with his powerful message.” Christ not only created the universe, he preserves and delivers the universe. Christ spoke the world into existence and he supports the world, not physically like the mythical Atlas, but by guiding the world toward its appointed future—the time when he will receive it as his inheritance. Because Christ sustains everything, nothing in creation is independent from him. All things are held together in a coherent or logical way, sustained and upheld, prevented from dissolving into chaos. In him alone and by his word, we find the unifying principle of all life. He transcends any and all other powers.
“After [Christ] carried out the cleansing of people from their sins, he sat down at the right side of the highest majesty.” Here the Hebrews author gives a precis of his sermon’s two main themes about Christ: his sacrifice and his exaltation. Jesus cleansed his people from the ugly stain of sin. Sin destroys our ability to know or approach God, but when God purifies us from our sins, our record is expunged. God regards us as though we had never sinned and clothes us in the righteousness of Christ himself.
After paying that penalty with his death on the cross, Christ sat down. This means that his work was complete and declares that his position was exalted. Earthly priests in the temple would stand and keep offering sacrifices. Their work was never finished. Christ’s sacrifice was final and complete. The author is thinking of the opening verse of Psalm 110, which is the only place in the Bible where anyone other than God is described as enthroned in power. This verse became a main text for the early church to use as an argument for the deity of Christ, an image which had a greater ability to persuade the Jews of Christ’s authority than did his resurrection. Jesus said to high priest Caiaphas when he was being tried, “You’ll see the Human One sitting on the right side of the Almighty and coming on the heavenly clouds” (Matthew 26:64).
In these three verses, the author of Hebrews gives us the unabridged Christ, who is proclaimed in the words of the Nicene Creed:
One Lord, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father; through him all things were made. For us and for our salvation, He came down from heaven, was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary and became truly human.
For us and for our salvation. Thanks be to God.
General Resources:
Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, “Hebrews 1:1-4 (5-12),” Year A, Volume 1: Advent through Transfiguration.
Life Application Bible Commentary - Hebrews (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2001.
(1) Michael Granzen, Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/michael.granzen/posts/10211686328980264.
(2) David J. Woods, “Hebrews 1:1-4 (5-12): Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010) Year A, Vol.1, 136.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
What We Need Is Light
Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 98; Luke 2:1-20
Once upon a time a church received a legacy from one of its members. This member had often commented that she wished that the church was brighter. The memorial committee thought long and hard about how to spend the money. They took their recommendation to the session. The committee proposed that the legacy be spent on a chandelier for the sanctuary. Session discussed this a while and finally one session member said with exasperation, “We don’t need a chandelier. We can’t spell it, we can’t afford it, and, besides, what we need is light.”
One of the details about the birth of Jesus that is indelibly etched in our minds is the fact that Jesus was not born at high noon. The announcement to the shepherds came in the dead of night.
There’s a reason Jesus was born at night and not at midday. He came into a world that was indeed dark. People were figuratively stumbling unseeing through life with no hopes, faded dreams, and blinding oppression. This was a political darkness. A series of geo-political power shifts had happened since the time of Isaiah, nearly 600 years earlier. First Assyria, then Babylonia, the Medes, the Greeks, and then the Romans in succession conquered the land. Isaiah was active when Israel was being overrun by Babylonian forces who exiled much of Israel’s upper and middle classes to Babylon. Anyone held in captivity as a prisoner of war knew something of anguish and darkness.
For Isaiah, the announcement of having seen a great light was also about people – leaders and followers – who consulted their gods, their “ghosts and the spirits that chirp and mutter” (Isaiah 8:19). When we fall back on our idols and neglect to desire and to wait in hope for God, then gloom and darkness fall upon us. Captivity results from consulting our own rituals and fantasies. People can be held captive without chains and locked cells and armed guards.
That captivity reflects the spiritual darkness which had existed since the time when God evicted Adam and Eve from the garden of creation. They had openly disobeyed God’s instruction about the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The first created human beings broke down the barrier between themselves and God thinking that they should be creators as well. Since then humanity has dwelt in a land of darkness constructed from the hopelessness of oppressing sin.
Human existence has been a cycle of sin, repentance, belief, confidence, delusion, and downfall. This cycle has repeated itself through the generations with little deviation and no hope of being able to be broken by human effort.
It was a lightless, darkened world into which the promise of a Messiah was given. It was a lightless, darkened world into which Jesus was born. The population of this dark social void ranged all the way from the lowest of the lowly – the marginalized shepherds who received the first news of Jesus’ birth – through those who recognized God and those who administered God’s ways – rabbis, church lawyers, educated elite – all the way to people who were beyond the bounds of the Israelite faith community – foreigners, aliens, star-gazers in distant lands.
What the darkened world needed was light. That light shattered the night sky with a sound and light show the likes of which had never been seen. The startled shepherds received the announcement from an angel who was backed up by the great assembly of the heavenly forces singing, “Glory to God in heaven.” I like to think that the heavenly light was so brilliant and powerful that the shepherds were radiant in the aftermath, that the angelic light had burned itself into their countenances so that their experience was etched on their faces for the rest of their lives.
That same effect was certainly the spiritual reality for all who encountered the new born Jesus, particularly Simeon and Anna who saw him in the Temple when he was presented and named according to rabbinic tradition. The magi so marveled at him that they knew instantly that Herod must never be told where the child was. And at the age of twelve the elders and scholars at the Temple were amazed at his understanding and knowledge. The spiritual darkness was retreating as the Light of the world advanced into and through the world.
Isaiah gave four compelling descriptions for this desperately needed light. They were memorialized in scripture long before George Frederick Handel put music to the prophet’s words.
“Wonderful Counselor.” In the world of business and other professions, one current strategy for supporting leaders is coaching. This is not the yell and berate style of many professional sports coaches. This form of coaching quietly asks questions of the individual about the situation at hand and elicits from that person observations and ideas that they already have within them, allowing them to better order their thoughts and to see the best ways to proceed. These coaches stand along side their coachees and help them sort things out. They don’t tell them what to do or how to do it.
Jesus – Emmanuel, God with us – enters our battered and bedraggled sphere of human existence to wonderfully counsel – coach – us into living the life of faith which God had designed for humanity, but which humanity more often than not determined that it could do better. Jesus asks questions, Jesus tells stories, and when necessary Jesus interrupts the prevailing order of things to illumine, demonstrate, and promote what holy living was supposed to be.
“Almighty God.” As the gospel writer John reminds us, Jesus was with God in the beginning and through him everything came into being (John 1:2-3). Genesis tells us that the first piece of creation was light. Then the first comment about God is made: “God saw how good the light was” (Genesis 1:3-4). Everything else is dependent on the light that came first. The problem is that human beings through their self-willing to be in charge of their own lives have dimmed the light, as soot darkens the glass globe of a candlestick, as putting a lamp under a basket darkens the room. Sin darkens each life, each community, the whole world. As “Almighty God,” the creator of light reintroduces light into human lives one by one.
“Everlasting Father.” Now it seems a stretch, as Walter Brueggemann says, to call Jesus “Father.”(1) After all, Jesus numerous times speaks of and to God as Father. We need to step back and think about what fathering can mean.
Near the end of his earthly ministry Jesus tells his followers, “I will not leave you as orphans” (John 14:18). Jesus takes up the father’s role. He welcomes children to him. On the cross he makes family by linking his mother, Mary, and the beloved disciple (John 19:26-27).
Throughout his ministry Jesus takes up the role of family-making, family protecting, family generating. He addresses his disciples as “little children” (John 13:33). He exercises family responsibility like a father. He gives his children a radical commandment within the intimacy of family to “love one another.” In a world of broken relationships, of betrayal, and of domestic violence, Jesus sheds light on the ways God’s people are called to live together in community.
“Prince of Peace.” What is peace? Is it the holiday truce of combative families wearing pasted-on smiles and pretending to like each other? Is it the old-style notion of two people grasping right hands because they couldn’t attack each other with their left hands? We live in a Herod world of duplicity, greed, false truths, and narcissism. We recognize that yet we often deny it.
It is as if we live in a constantly-shaken snow globe. We know there is an idyllic scene in there somewhere, but we can’t find it for the churning of the snow particles. We are powerless to do anything about it. And the shaking goes on.
Jonas Ellison wrote in his blog the other day about there being two emotions – love and fear – and that only one of them was real. “Love is the fabric of relationship in all of the universe. Atoms stick together and break apart in a certain way. They don’t try to trick each other or harm themselves. They just… Dance.”
Fear is a story, he goes on to say. “Fear is an arrangement we humans made up when we created the idea that we’re separate from the all, and we’ve passed this story down, generation to generation — not only through our words, but through our genetics.”(2)
The apostle John wrote that “there is no fear in love, but that perfect love drives out fear, because fear expects punishment. The person who is afraid has not been made perfect in love” (1 John 4:18). Jesus shines an irradiating light of love on our human-constructed fears and drives them out. When we fully and joyfully receive his light, we can be fear-less. That is the peace over which Jesus is prince.
In this world which knows too much warfare, famine, natural disaster, human negligence, and bullying words and actions, we need this midnight clear, silent, holy night which erupts with a light that is unmatched and inextinguishable. What we need is light, a light for all people, the light of the world. It begins with a flicker like a breathed-on ember in a borrowed, rustic setting. It begins. It continues. It will reign in the place of all other lights. May that light be yours this night and forevermore.
(1) Walter Brueggemann, Names for the Messiah (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2016), 44.
(2) Jonas Ellison, https://medium.com/higher-thoughts/only-love-39888ad55d4a#.5lb73r1uq
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Matthew 3:1-12; Isaiah 35:1-10; James 5:7-10
One of the weekday emails I get is called “A.Word.A.Day”. The author mines the depths of the dictionary for obscure, strange, common, and confusing words, often around a weekly theme, such as eponyms or words derived from literature. It is interesting to see how some words evolve to mean the opposite of what they started out as.
That’s the nature of our English language. In a manner of speaking it is a living organism. As such, new words come into being frequently. Some are developed from the constantly emerging new technologies, some are extensions of current usages, and some are mixtures of two words.
The Oxford English Dictionary word of the year for 2016 is “post-truth.” “Post,” of course comes from the Latin root which means after or beyond. “Truth” is truth. So the new word means something like, “that which is beyond truth.” What is that? That seems to be the question asked by the new word. Its usage suggests that the truth of something doesn’t matter. What matters is how a person feels about something. In its crudest meaning, feelings are more important than truth.
For instance, people who deny the reality of climate change disregard and discredit the scientific evidence because they don’t feel that the climate is changing. The increase in storms and their severity is purely anecdotal poppycock to them.
The same approach is applied to any number of topics right now. This is not a new question. We can hear in the background the ancient question asked by a Roman military governor: “What is truth?”
People are seeking authenticity. In the post-truth era, if it be such, what is authentic is what I feel about something. An editorial cartoon this week highlighted this: a woman is peering at her computer and asks, “How do I know if the news is true.” Her husband says, “If I agree with it.” Post-truth authenticity depends on self-validation rather independent evaluation.
Authenticity is the basis for the question which John the Baptist relays to Jesus through his disciples. “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” John wanted to know if Jesus was a really real messiah, or a fake real messiah. That’s the question with which the world outside the church struggles mightily. And some folks within the church, as well: “Don’t confuse me with facts. I know what I believe.”
Authenticity is not just what is really real. People have expectations about what is authentic. When the real authenticity doesn’t measure up to people’s expectations, then it won’t matter whether the really real is authentic or not. It is perceived as fake. This could fall under the post-truth category. John could be saying, “I don’t feel that you are the real messiah. You aren’t doing the things that I think you should be doing as a Messiah, so whether you are or are not, I don’t accept you as authentic.”
You have to remember that there had been before Jesus, and again after Jesus, a number of possible messiahs each of which turned out to be fake. A man named Judas of Galilee led a bloody revolt against a Roman census in the year 6. Simon was a slave of Herod who became a messianic figure when he rebelled in the year 4. Theudus attempted a revolt against the Romans in the 40s, and was killed. Notice that these attempted to act their supposed messiah-ship through violent rebellion. That sort of behavior seems to have set the ideal in people’s minds about what a messiah should be doing.
Jesus does not respond to John’s inquiry with a simple “yes” or “no.” Rather he gives a catalogue of his activities. “Go, report to John what you hear and see. Those who were blind are able to see. Those who were crippled are walking. People with skin diseases are cleansed. Those who were deaf now hear. Those who were dead are raised up. The poor have good news proclaimed to them.”
What Jesus is doing is resetting the expectations for messiahship. He is reminding John of larger, more inclusive promises of salvation which God has given the people through the prophets. In the words of Isaiah,
Strengthen the weak hands,
and support the unsteady knees.
Say to those who are panicking:
“Be strong! Don’t fear!
Here’s your God, coming with vengeance;
with divine retribution God will come to save you.”
Then the eyes of the blind will be opened,
and the ears of the deaf will be cleared.
Then the lame will leap like the deer,
and the tongue of the speechless will sing.
Waters will spring up in the desert,
and streams in the wilderness. (Isaiah 35:3-6)
Authenticity is to be found in actions, not words.
Jesus goes on to celebrate John’s authenticity. John is wrestling with what he thinks is the object of his faith. He is not disbelieving, but is seeking a clarification for his faith. Bonnie Pattison writes,
“Circumstances have a way of thrusting themselves into our theological paradigms, challenging our basic assumptions. Such was the case with John..., [who] came to Jesus fully believing what the prophets had written but seeking clarification concerning whether those writings pointed to Jesus.”(1)
Jesus’ reply to John stresses actions, not words, and those actions verify the words of the prophets.
Jesus then goes on to celebrate John as a prophet. John is the ultimate prophet, not a royal palace advisor. Furthermore, John is more than a prophet, insists Jesus — he is “the one of whom it is written, ‘Look, I’m sending my messenger before you, who will prepare your way before you.’” (v. 10).
John is the messenger foretold by the Old Testament’s Malachi, the one who will prepare the way for the authentic Messiah. John is not a royal yes-man in a tailored suit, but is “like the refiner’s fire or the cleaner’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and a purifier of silver. He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver.” (Malachi 3:1-3). John accomplishes this mission by calling people to repentance, and baptizing them to cleanse them of their sins.
So Jesus is not the only really real person in this passage of Scripture. John the Baptist is authentic as well — he is the authentic messenger.
But notice the surprising comment that Jesus makes next. “I assure you that no one who has ever been born is greater than John the Baptist. Yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” (Matthew 11:11). John is great, but those who follow him will be even greater. Jesus predicts that he will have some authentic disciples who will surpass even John the Baptist in their faithfulness and effectiveness.
So what does it take to be an authentic disciple of an authentic Messiah? Authenticity comes from a sense of place, a larger purpose, a strong point of view, and integrity.
First, a sense of place. If you want to drink authentic champagne, then you have to open a bottle from the Champagne region of France. Anything else is just sparkling wine. If you want to be an authentic disciple of Jesus, you have to know the story of Bethlehem and Nazareth, Judea and Galilee. Jesus the Messiah did his work in a particular place, and unless we know the story of that place we cannot be his true followers.
Second, authenticity demands a larger purpose. Whole Foods Market, the world’s largest retailer of natural and organic foods, has a larger purpose — to “change the way the world eats.” If you want to be an authentic disciple, you have to look beyond your own interests and focus on the interests of Jesus. “All who want to save their lives will lose them,” says Jesus to his disciples, “but all who lose their lives because of me will find them” (Matthew 16:25).
Third, authenticity requires a strong point of view. When Billy Graham’s library in Montreat, North Carolina, was dedicated ten years ago, three ex-presidents and many other dignitaries attended. In spite of the world’s skepticism about evangelists and tele-evangelists, the American public has trusted and admired Billy Graham due to his simple, but strong point of view: Jesus saves.
If we want to be authentic disciples, we will align ourselves unequivocally with Jesus and his distinctive, even radical, way of life. “Let your light shine before people,” says Jesus to his followers, “so they can see the good things you do and praise your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).
And authenticity involves integrity. In order for a person to be authentic, there has to be a match between words and actions — there has to be integrity. If you want to be an authentic disciple, you are challenged to create a match between your talk and your walk. Spreading malicious gossip or pronouncing half-truths simply doesn’t line up with “treat people in the same way that you want people to treat you” (Matthew 7:12).
By being authentic we join the long line of people from John forward who in faith pass on the torch of the really real Messiah — Jesus the Authentic One who comes in the name of the Lord. As we celebrate Advent — Christ’s first coming and expected second coming — we renew and re-authenticate our faith — for ourselves, for the church which bears Christ’s name and mandate, and for the world that longs for what is real, true, and authentic.
May the faith of our hearts and the actions of our lives be authentic in your sight, Lord Jesus. Amen.
General Resource: “The Authentic Messiah,” www.homileticsonline.com, December 16, 2007.
(1) Bonnie L. Pattison, “Matthew 11:2-19, Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), vol. 1, p. 284, 286.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Romans 15:4-13; Isaiah 11:1-10; Matthew 3:1-12
Long before Google and Wikipedia became the go-to places for information and answers, long before Siri and Alexa adopted their know-it-all personas, we had questions. We would ask Mom or Dad. They were the authorities who had all the answers. And if they didn’t, they would say, “Ask your father,” or “Ask your mother.” There was a popular radio program called “Ask the Answer Man.” One of my joys as a teen was getting the annual edition of the Information Please Almanac. And the family lore also includes the fact that as a young child I would read the student’s encyclopedia by street light after I went to bed.
I love trivia. I know that I would flop on a live Jeopardy program, but at home I often get the questions to the answers faster than the real contestants. I’m an eclectic reader, mostly non-fiction beyond theology. Lots of subjects fascinate me. I like to read. Paula will tell you that when I’m desperate, I’ll read cereal boxes and soup cans.
Libraries are wonderful. It’s great that the Pike County Library – named after one of our very own Presbyterian saints, Garnet A. Wilson – is planning a new facility that will more effectively provide information services. Bravo to Presbyterians Gary and Evelyn Baker for helping to successfully head up the Bristol Village fund drive for the new library.
Libraries are wonderful. I won’t embarrass you by asking if you know that the church has a library from which you can freely borrow different translations of the Bible, commentaries on particular books, audio CD recordings of the Bible, and devotional literature. It’s in one of the coat rack areas of the Lobby and is a treasure.
Information doesn’t come only in printed or digital form, in written word or in graphic presentations. Long before those forms of media existed, people had to rely on a community’s collective memory for all the information that was needed. It was passed on from generation to generation. Special people carried that information: swamis, gurus, shamans, elders.
Imagine that a library could offer a resource in additional to printed matter and the internet. Imagine going into the library and borrowing a person who was a knowledgeable expert on some topic, not necessarily an esoteric one, perhaps one as simple as how to fold a fitted bed sheet or change the oil in your car. A person can’t learn brain surgery by reading a book. There needs to be some one-on-one mentoring and on-the-job training that only a live teacher can provide.
Perhaps the borrowed person could explain and demonstrate what it is like to be an undocumented worker or a refugee, what it is like to live in a homeless shelter or to live through a tornado, what it feels like to ride into space on the top of a rocket or experience weightlessness. Kindle books are great and so are You Tube videos. But there is nothing like getting the first hand experience of someone who has been there or has immersed herself in the deepest knowledge of something. That would be a “human library.”
A Human Library was tried in Denmark in the spring of 2000. It ran for four days straight at a Copenhagen location and offered some 75 “titles,” chosen to inform and to challenge stereotypes. More than 1,000 “readers” showed up. The idea is no longer Danish. Human Library events have now happened on every continent. At a Human Library happening in Rochester, New York, for example, borrowers got to hear from a Vietnam veteran, a martial artist, a British butler and a person paralyzed in a car accident, among many others.
Most of us think about borrowing from a library. But have you ever thought about being the item borrowed?
Being a human borrowed for information that we have is not a new idea. Paul wrote this to the Corinthian congregation:
You are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everyone. You show that you are Christ’s letter, delivered by us. You weren’t written with ink but with the Spirit of the living God. You weren’t written on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts. (2 Corinthians 3:2-3)
We can be read. You have probably heard someone say to another person, “I can read you like a book.” Are your readable?
The original texts of the Bible were written in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. The Bible has been translated countless times. The Old Testament books were translated into Greek. The books of both testaments were translated into Latin. Luther translated scripture into the German of the early 16th century. About the same time Myles Coverdale and William Tyndale were translating scripture into English. That was 75 years before the “Authorized” version was presented to King James. Several dozen English translations were done in the 20th century. The Common English Bible we use in the Sanctuary was published in 2011. There will many more translations during this century, perhaps as caches of ancient fragments are discovered, and certainly as English continues to evolve.
Translations of the Bible follow several methods. Some strive for exceedingly accurate word-for-word translation. These are good to study, but often are stilted and awkward to read aloud. Some versions are paraphrases, like the Living Bible of the 1970s and Eugene Peterson’s The Message. Other versions seek to translate ancient images and ideas into contemporary idioms while being faithful to the words
Paul would urge us to read scripture avidly. He wrote the Roman believers:
Whatever was written in the past was written for our instruction so that we could have hope through endurance and through the encouragement of the scriptures. May the God of endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude toward each other, similar to Christ Jesus’ attitude. That way you can glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ together with one voice.
It is of greater importance that you read the Bible diligently and of lesser importance which version of the Bible you read. It is often very helpful to read a passage is several translations so that you can benefit from a wider understanding of what scripture may be saying to you at a given moment in time. There are many different methods to read scripture in terms of a one-year or a two-year cycle. Another spiritual practice for reading scripture is to read a short passage and note the word, phrase, or image which strikes you. After meditating on that, the passage is reread, followed by a question, such as what does that word, phrase, or image say to you about God or Christ or the Spirit.
Following Paul’s comment to the Corinthian congregation, I want to suggest that each of you is a translation of Scripture. There’s a gospel song, “The World’s Bible,” written by Annie Johnson Flint:
We are the only Bible
The careless world will read;
We are the sinners’ gospel,
We are the scoffers’ creed;
We are the Lord’s last message,
Given in word and deed.
What if the type is crooked?
What if the print is blurred?
I’m sure our scripture presentation is to some extent crooked and blurred. None of us perfectly represents the breadth and depth of the faith we profess. If someone were to read us, they would find gaps in our knowledge, pages missing, typos galore.
However, if you and I are serious about following Jesus, our reader would likely read in us some things that convey that we are living differently from how we would if we weren’t trying to be disciples. Would it be clear to our reader that we have a hope that serves as a irresistible guiding principle for our life. Paul nails it down firmly in his comments to the Roman church people: “we could have hope through endurance and through the encouragement of the scriptures.”
Many of us are busy preparing our Christmas cards and letters. If we are Christ’s letter this Advent, are we giving as full and true a message as we can about the hope and peace which will “glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ together with one voice”?
If we put our Christian witness in the context of a Human Library, we don’t have to worry about reaching out. We can just wait for someone to check us out. Don’t hide in the library stacks however. Live your life as if you were on display on the new books shelf. Let people become interested in you, your cover, your title, the blurbs on the back of the dust jacket, the introduction on the inside of the flyleaf. “Christ in you” means that people can read about him in all you say and do. Christ lends you out to those around you so that they too may come to know him and know him as Lord. You, like John the Baptist, can be someone who goes before the Lord to declare his coming. Perhaps your title is Prepare the Way of the Lord.
General Resource: “Let People Check You Out,” Homiletics, December 4, 2016.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Isaiah 2:1-5; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44;
The house lights have gone down. There is the whirr of the curtain being drawn back. A spotlight grows in intensity at center stage revealing a prophet. He begins to sing of a mountain, and of nations streaming to it willing to hear holy instruction and be judged by it, willing also to make peace with each other. These are the first words of Advent. As the song ends another sound rises. It is the first sound of Advent --- that of a blacksmith working at the forge hammering swords into plow blades and spears in to pruning tools.
How exhilarating, how noble, how hopeful, how dream-like, how improbable, how impossible.
If only it were to be. What world does the prophet live in? What hallucinogenic drug is he tripping on?
As the spotlight fades out on the prophet and he leaves the stage, an image is projected on the scrim at stage rear. The animation shows a barren level plain. Then the center of the plain begins to rise toward the sky and before you know it, there are hordes of people moving in mass towards the top of the now looming mountain. They are people of all ethnicities and races, the murmurs are in a multitude of languages. Except for the mountain, the crowd could have been Chicagoans celebrating the Cubs' long-awaited World Series victory. No one is pushing or shoving. Everyone is moving in an orderly fashion, ready to receive the instruction that will soon emanate from the holy place at the top of the mountain. Oh, how they long for this teaching. Some encourage others to get closer. Some help those for whom the travel is difficult. The excitement is building the closer to the mountain top the people get.
The people receive more than instruction, more than soft words meant to soothe, more than honeyed words meant lull long-deferred hopes. There are times of listening. Arguments are settled, disputes are ironed out, wrongs are adjudicated, and righteousness is displayed for all to see. All this will happen between individuals and nations - the extended tribal families with long histories of debilitating disputes. These are the only verbs with God as the subject. "God will judge" and God will "settle." All the other activity is seen with the people hearing and answering the call to come to the mountain and then what they do after hearing God's words and seeing God's word in action.
What are the people doing? They are making peace. How can this be? The only way they can make peace is because God has given the people justice. There can be no peace without justice. True justice can only come from God. Only when inequity is done away with can violence be taken out of the life equation.
Our world - near and far - teems with violence. A truck runs into a camper in Cynthiana. Two policemen are separately ambushed and killed in a Des Moines, Iowa, suburb. The long, unsolved disappearance of Jon Benet Ramsey is brought up in a docudrama. A football player is suspended for domestic violence.
All this justice and peace that the prophet proclaims just isn't going to happen. It will take more than the Cubs winning the World Series.
The prophet doesn't back down. He proclaims one result from the activity of the nations - peoples - accepting God's instruction and arbitrating judgment. That result is out and out disarmament. This new reality leads the a significantly greater capacity for all peoples to care for the land and care for each other. Since the reasons for envy, greed, resentment, retribution, and fear have been abolished, weapons are irrelevant. Since aggressions have been rendered absurd, resources once consumed for battle are available now for the provision of health, life, and communal growth. The image which the prophet presents text proposes a literal, material conversion of armaments. Instruments of taking life are converted to implements for sustaining life. The economy is converted. The world's curriculum is converted from learning war to learning the ways of God.
Some years ago, when Liberia was wracked with warfare, Christian youth gathered spent shell casings and fashioned them into crosses to remind them and the world that Christ turns death into life.
The indigenous culture of our geographical area tends to focus on this future horizon experience. Many African American spirituals also look to that day when the believer would be removed from the trials and tribulations of the present world. There is a depressing feeling that suffering cannot be avoided, that it must be lived through in order to receive the ultimate benefits of Christ, which cannot be participated in until people cross over into the realm of God's rule.
Isaiah doesn't go down that road. He is quite clear that the future does not begin next week, next month, next year, next decade, next century. God's future begins right now.
Come, house of Jacob,
let's walk by the Lord's light.
Whatever peaceable future there is to be, those who hear the promise are tasked with one responsibility: to walk toward the future, to walk "in the light of God," to walk "by" the light of God, to walk to "the light of God."
I know that you are all well-behaved. I didn't hear any titters, I didn't see any smirks. But didn't you want to do something like that when I read Isaiah's words - improbably words, impossible words? Given that we have been around a while and have experienced a lot in our years, and given all that we have had to put up with for the last number of months, we are hard-pressed not to break out in a full-throated guffaw at what the prophet envisions. Peace! Extinction of weapons! That's more far-fetched than the pie-in-the-sky promises of politicians: free college tuition, universal, single-payer health care, deportation of the illegal aliens who willingly accept a minimum wage pittance to do the jobs our neighbors are not willing to do, or a chicken in every pot or a Cadillac in every garage.
There's a new word coinage which has come on the scene lately - "alt-right." Depending on your viewpoint it denotes either a natural evolution in conservative politics or a particularly vile re-emergence of fascist white supremacy and all the evils and fears associated with it. We Christians need to deal with that. Unfortunately, faithful, followers of Christ, who carefully read scripture and who genuinely understand what they read, align themselves across the entire secular political spectrum. Each of us will need to stop talking with and listening to those who think like we do and start talking with and listening to those who think differently from us so that our conversations can be meaningful in contributing to the common weal of creation and to the greater glory of God.
These times are tense, because we are living smack dab in the middle of them. But they are not unique. Israel and Judah in the time of Isaiah and Judah in the time of Jesus were caught in a similar anxiety-ridden clash of philosophies and theologies. What Isaiah proposes, what Isaiah prophesies is another form of alt-worldview. For us as Christians today, Advent offers an alternative view of the reality in which we seem to live.
Advent is an alternative that says that power as we know it has no lasting strength; that the voices of politicians will be silenced by the songs of the angels; that our true Savior is a baby born in a smelly stable; that our brokenness will be healed by God's tender grace.
Advent is the time for alt-hope. Not hope that is based on power and threats, not hope which relies on how many weapons one has stockpiled or how many boots one can put on the ground; but hope which takes the hands of little children who fear their parents will be deported; hope which says we will be the safe places for people who are different in any way from us.
Advent is the time for alt-faith. Not faith that is grounded in some sort of 'Golden Age' romantically misremembered from the past, but faith which looks over the heads of the fearmongers to see God's grace erupting in our midst.
Advent is the time for alt-joy. Not joy that our side has won, not joy that is grounded in skin tone or wealth; but joy which is found in the confession that our God is doing something new in our midst. Advent is the time to journey into poverty, not our personal poverty as we overspend on extravagant gifts, but the poverty, the brokenness, the doubts of our world to find the places where God's joy is being birthed.
Advent is the time for alt-peace. Not the gritted teeth, pasted-on, pinched smile of "I'll tolerate you in public but I'll hate your guts and denounce you in private." Alt-peace is the humble recognition that whoever you are, wherever you came from, however old you are, whatever you have or haven't achieved in your life, 99% of our genes and chromosomes are the same and we are sisters and brothers.
Advent is time for alt-trust. Not trust in those who would bully us into doing things their way; but trust that is grounded in the promises made so long ago to prophets and psalmists, to teenage girls and grizzled shepherds, to children who were ignored by their society and to power-brokers who were weaker than their spreadsheets ever indicated.
Advent is about to break open our lives with its skewed way of looking at the future. That's God's vision, the true alternative vision. That's the impossibility of Advent. And it happens in us starting now.
Come, Advent, come!
The discussion of Advent as an alternative to present reality is based on "alt-Advent," posted by Thom M. Shuman, Sun, Nov 20, 2016 at 3:38 PM to midrash@joinhands.com.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Luke 23:33-43; Jeremiah 23:1-6; Colossians 1:11-20
One of the great mysteries of Jesus’ crucifixion is his forgiveness of his accusers and those who carried out the death sentence. “Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they're doing.” The soldiers were following orders. Pilate was trying to keep the crowd under control. Herod was happy to pass Jesus back to Pilate and keep his puppet kingship in tact. The religious leadership were afraid of what could happen to their persons, their positions, their country, their faith if Jesus were to live. They believed they were acting for the glory of God and did what had to be done.
The onlookers goaded Jesus to anger. He responded with forgiveness. The authorities mocked him as the “King of the Jews.” Jesus showed that he was the king of all people. Jesus was taunted to save himself. He saved the criminal who hung next to him. Jesus turned evil into good. He lived as the Christ of God for the true glory of God.
Last year, Islamic State terrorists in Libya executed 21 Coptic Christians on a beach and videoed it for the world to see. Coptic Christians are the largest Christian community in the Middle East and one of the oldest in the world. They trace their church back to Saint Mark, who introduced Christianity in Alexandria, Egypt, a few years after Christ’s death and resurrection.
These Coptic Christians were taken hostage and executed because of their faith in Jesus Christ. The ISIS video of the killings was entitled, “A Message Signed with Blood to the Nations of the Cross” It was a message to Christians around the world.
Like the people involved in Jesus’ crucifixion, the ISIS soldiers did not know what they were doing. Instead of weakening the Christian faith, they strengthened it.
The 21 murdered men were construction tradesmen. All were Egyptians except for one. He appeared to have been a young African man, perhaps from Chad or Ghana.
Greek Orthodox bishop Demetrios of Mokissos reported that the executioners demanded that each hostage identify his religion. Under threat of death, they could have denied that they were Christians. But instead, each of the Egyptian Copts declared their trust in Jesus. Maintaining their faith in the face of evil, each man was beheaded.
Bishop Demetrios described this crime as “a grotesque example of the violence which Christians face daily in Libya, Iraq, Syria and anywhere ISIS prosecutes its murderous campaign against anyone it deems an infidel.” But as horrible as these executions were, the story has an unexpected and inspirational ending.
The African worker who was with the Egyptians was not a Christian when he was captured. But when the ISIS terrorists challenged him to declare his faith, he replied: “Their God is my God.”(1)
What a statement! “Their God is my God.”
After hearing those words, the terrorists killed him. But in that moment, the young man became a Christian and Jesus said to him, as he said to the man on the next cross, “I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise.”
Bishop Demetrios concluded, “The ISIS murderers seek to demoralize Christians with acts like the slaughter on a Libyan beach. Instead they stir our wonder at the courage and devotion inspired by God's love.”
“Their God is my God.”
Are we living our Christian faith in such a way that people look at us and say, “Their God is my God”?
I came of age in the midst of the Vietnam War. At the time I was in the early stages of discovering faith. I believed in God and had join the church when I was 12. When I went to college I had embarked on a spiritual journey to discover what I actually meant when I said that. Freshman year I needed to choose between ROTC and Physical Education for a required course. I chose ROTC. Among the things we learned in that course was how to strip, clean, and reassemble an M1 rifle. That was neat from a mechanical standpoint. The PE or ROTC requirement was dropped for my sophomore year, but I signed up for ROTC as an elective because the book work was going to be military history. When I found out that the practical work was going to be learning to shoot the M1, I dropped ROTC.
As the Vietnam War continued and upheavals happened on many campuses – not mine, thankfully – I fantasized going to the chapel on Sunday morning and finding it barricaded with armed troops. The gnawing question – imaginary and improbable as it was – was what would I do? Would I just turn away or would I attempt to cross the armed line and enter the chapel for worship?
When the draft lottery was instituted I dreaded getting a low number and then having to decide to enlist, wait for the draft notice, refuse to go and go to jail, or try to become a conscientious objector. Had I gotten a low lottery number, would I have denied Jesus and meekly submitted to those who did not know what they were doing? Or would I have stood firm with a few others and said, “My God is their God”? My birth date drew an exceedingly safe number, so that question was never answered.
On this Reign of Christ Sunday the world is confronted by a king who dies on a cross. Jesus doesn’t save himself, he saves others. Rather than crying out in anger, he forgives the people who kill him. Then and now, Jesus brings good out of evil.
Even if Christ is hanging on a cross, he is the people’s king, to be seen by everyone. The criminal next to Jesus did this when he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The young African man on the Libyan beach did this when he pointed to the Coptic Christians and said, “Their God is my God.”
Both the criminal and the young African man saw Christ as king. They grasped his power and trusted him to save them. In the face of death, they put their complete faith in a crucified Lord.
In telling my story earlier, it was not my intention to imply that my faith crisis was on the same level as that of the African man. But you and I know that we have faith crises. We face small spiritual deaths or triumphs frequently. Time and again we are left with the question: Are we living our Christian faith in such a way that people will look to us and say, “Their God is my God”?
The challenge for us is to speak in ways that reveal authentic faith and act in ways that show real courage and devotion. Only when people are inspired by what Christians say and do will they be willing to accept Christ as their king. Would we support and embrace a neighbor whom everyone else shuns because they aren’t “one of us,” physically, mentally, racially, academically, or some other difference? Or would we quietly acquiesce to the majority? Would we speak out to decry a majority held, obviously false, slanderous slur? Or we hold our tongue and keep our faith to ourselves? Whose God is our God?
Mzee Abdu of Kyambogo, Uganda, avoided Christians in his rural village. He and his wife were practicing Muslims and steered clear of the local church. But with a meager income, Abdu and his wife struggled to take care of their grandchildren. They sometimes went without meals, and they couldn’t fix their leaky grass-thatched roof hut.
The church noticed Abdu’s family and stopped in to offer them support. Abdu’s reservations toward Christians soon began to melt away. “This is a very special day to me,” he said. “It has been long since anyone has come to our home.”
After the visit, the pastor and other church leaders discussed how they could use resources in their community to help Abdu's family. They rallied the community to construct a new semi-permanent house with an sheet metal roof to keep the family warm and dry during the rainy season. Meanwhile, they helped Abdu’s grandchildren with scholarships to attend the church’s school.
During a follow-up visit, Mzee Abdu and his wife asked if Pastor Patrick could lead them to receiving Christ as their personal Savior. “We want to accept your God. He has loved us so much! Our lives have totally changed since the day you came here. We had lost hope.”(2)
Rodger Nishioka is a Christian educator, former seminary professor, and now Director of Adult Educational Ministries at the Village Presbyterian Church outside Kansas City, Kansas. He is convinced that actions speak louder than words, and that Christian service provides new ways of knowing Jesus today. “Words are lovely,” he says, “but in the 21st century, when we have rhetoric everywhere, maybe people are paying attention to how you and I live, to what we do. Come on, church," he concludes, “maybe in the 21st century, folks are looking for believers who act for the glory of God.”(3)
People are looking for believers like the Coptic Christians on the Libyan beach and like the men and women of the Ugandan church. People who act not for themselves, but for the glory of God. Not for themselves, but for Jesus.
All of us are challenged to take actions that will cause people to look at us and say, “Their God is my God.” May we act with strength and integrity of when we are challenged, because the challenge is for Christ the king and for the glory of God.
(1) Demetrios of Mokissos. "ISIS is guilty of anti-Christian genocide." The Wall Street Journal, February 12, 2016, wsj.com.
(2) Adapted from “Actions speak louder than words: Hope in Uganda,” Bright Hope, May 24, 2016, www.brighthope.org.
(3) Nishioka, Rodger. "New ways of knowing." Westminster Presbyterian Church, Greenville, South Carolina, March 18, 2015, www.plus.google.com.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Step away from the calendar. You heard me. Close the calendar app on your phone. Zip up the Day-Timer. Turn the wall calendar to face the wall. Put out of your mind that the election ordeal will be over in three days and that the apocalypse will -begin (whichever Armageddon you are expecting – and it probably won’t be as bad as your think it will be). Let us forsake temporal time for a few moments. Let us repose in church time.
Church time follows a consistent cycle. We begin with Advent, a time for waiting on the coming of the King, both as a baby born in the manger and as the eternal King of Glory. Advent is followed by Christmas and Epiphany, during which we celebrate the physical arrival of the King as flesh and blood and watch as his luminance grows in the expanding revelation of his nature and ministry.
At the apex of that divine revelation the world begins to realize that the persona Jesus projects is in radical conflict with the cozy ways of the world. From that point Lent spirals down to the what is supposed to be the world’s crushing blow against all that Jesus represents. But with a swift appellate court decision, God overturns the verdict of the world with the Easter resurrection of the Lord and Savior. For seven weeks Christ tutors his followers in knowledge and faith until the wildfire driven Holy Spirit races through Jerusalem inflaming the Pentecost Church.
We celebrated that six months ago, but these days are part of the season after Pentecost, a time when we learn what it means to be a Christian in this world. The story arc of Pentecost rises with all the great stories of Jesus. About halfway through, around the beginning of September, as fall’s wispy hints start to appear, there is a shift. The focus begins to move from the here and now to the future and beyond, to the culmination of the great creation which started when God breathed, “in the beginning.”
As the season of Pentecost winds down, these last weeks look forward to the day when we will no longer be in this world. The readings talk about the end of the ages and will conclude in a couple of weeks celebrating the enthronement of Christ in never-ending glory. While Advent uses similar readings to face the promise, the final readings of the church year look the frightening uncertainty of the end of days squarely in the face.
Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians addresses that time. Most of us would rather not discuss the end times; the language of eschatology (last things) is difficult even for theologians. Which images are literal, which are figurative? When should we be concerned about the prophecies? Were the warnings written for our generation or some future generation, or has it all happened when no one was paying attention? Who is the lawless person? Was this a character in the days of Paul or someone yet to come? (Remember, we are in church time; no fair dropping out and going to your favorite political commentator.)
Another question rises. Will the coming of Christ be a physical return or spiritual? Some people insist they have the answer. There are perfectly acceptable arguments from many different points of view. People argue about what is true. They argue about what they think is true. They argue for what they want to be true. And they argue about details in order to camouflage fear, anxiety, ignorance, insecurity. No wonder most Christians would rather not discuss these things.
That doesn’t stop Paul. He writes to the Thessalonian believers the message that really matters: God loves you and God chose you to be fruit, sanctified by the Holy Spirit and called by the Gospel to obtain the glory of Christ. Paul also reminds his readers (aren’t we fortunate to get copied on his letter?) that while God is the one who chooses, sanctifies and calls, we, who are the recipients of God’s choice, sanctification, and call, are called to faith. It is up to us to believe. No one can believe for us, not even Jesus himself. The scriptures are clear: our eternal life is not dependent on anything we do in this world, but on the grace and mercy of God lived out in Jesus Christ.
If we imagine that after crossing paths with Jesus our life can continue on as if nothing happened, we missed something. We didn’t just miss the fine print, we missed the bold print. Eternal life is completely different from temporal life. (No, we aren’t ready to go back to our calendars yet.)
Let’s hear again something that Paul says:
God called all of you through our good news so you could possess the honor of our Lord Jesus Christ. (2 Thess. 2:14)
We are a materialist people, so that verb ‘possess’ resonates with us. And Paul wants it to. What does it mean? Let’s look at several other translations.
- New Revised Standard Version: “For this purpose he called you through our proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.
- The Message: This is the life of the Spirit he invited you to through the Message we delivered, in which you get in on the glory of our Master, Jesus Christ.
- New Living Translation: He called you to salvation when we told you the Good News; now you can share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Not only do we get to possess – obtain – the honor and glory of Christ through faith, we get immersed in it, we get to share it.
The take-away on this is that Jesus is not a penny-pinching miserly savior who begrudges just enough grace to clear our names. Jesus is lavish, profligate with his grace. He throws open the doors of the kingdom, runs to the end of the drive and says, “You and you, come on in!” He grabs us by the arm and ushers us through the entryway, goes to the first hospitality station and grabs a plate full of grace and a goblet full of mercy. He says, “This is for you. Partake. Go back for seconds. What is mine is yours.”
No more begging. No more eking out an existence. This is life in its fullest. And it is ours. We get to share in it, to claim it, to wallow in it. That’s Christ’s earnest desire. He doesn’t want to be alone in the kingdom. He wants to share it with all his best friends.
Share. That’s what it’s all about. And that’s why we take time this first Sunday in November to remember people who have shared the faith of Christ, shared his love and mercy, shared his righteousness and justice with us and with countless others through their lives. We have been so blessed to have been sisters and brothers in faith with these people. They are part of the living legacy of faithfulness that links us with Christ and the first believers and which we in turn will transmit to generations after us.
Our lives have been lived on the shoulders, the legacies – known and unknown – of generations who lived long before us. Our legacies will be laid down on top of theirs. We will never know the legacy that those after us have received from us. What we will know is what it is like to stand in the presence of God, to stand on holy ground, to hear God’s voice with our own ears and see the eternal glory.
So today we give thanks for those who have gone before us in the last year, those who have left something of God and something of themselves in our lives. Nadia Bolz-Weber writes that we all are accidental saints. She says:
“Without higher-quality material to work with, God resorts to working through us for others and upon us through others. Those are some weirdly restorative, disconcerting shenanigans to be caught up in: God forcing God’s people to see themselves as God sees them, to do stuff they know they are incapable of doing, so that God might make use of them, and make them to be both humble recipients and generous givers of grace, so that they may be part of God’s big project on earth, so that they themselves might find unexpected joy through surprising situations.”(1)
Let us now remember these people whom God has used to bless us and bless the Christ’s church:
Jeanne Barron
Max L. Russell
Betty. L. Jenkins
Louise Netzley
Marlene Voorhes
Helen Heinmiller
Let us pray.
For those who walked with us, this is a prayer.
For those who have gone ahead, this is a blessing.
For those who touched and tended us,
who lingered with us while they lived,
this is a thanksgiving.
For those who journey still with us
in the shadows of awareness,
in the crevices of memory,
in the landscape of our dreams,
this is a benediction. (Jan Richardson)
God of the ages:
We praise you for all your servants who have done justice, loved mercy and walked humbly with you.
We praise you for apostles and martyrs and saints of every time and place, who in life and death have witnessed to your truth and love.
We praise you, O God, for all those who answered your call to preach the Good News of the Gospel and to administer your Sacraments of grace and love, and for those who devoted their lives to teaching your Word.
We praise you, O God, for those who showed compassion to the least, feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, welcoming the stranger and offering mercy and forgiveness to those who have gone astray.
We praise you, O God, and we especially honor the memory of those individuals of this congregation who have lived among us and shared their faith in personal ways, who have finished the race and now live eternally in your presence.
We honor the memory of those who have graced our lives at other times and in other ways – those whose names we lift up before you in the silence of our hearts.
Hear our prayers, O God.
For all the saints who from their labors rest, we praise you, O God.
We praise you and we thank you in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
(1) Cited by Christina Berry in a sermon, “Accidental Saints,” delivered October 30, 2016, at First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois. Posted on www.midrash.com, 10/29/16, 3:44 p.m. CDT.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4; 2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12; Luke 19:1-10
“This is Cinerama” was full-length film which came out in 1952. The film began in black-and-white in the standard 4:3 aspect ratio. Newscaster Lowell Thomas appeared on screen to discuss the evolution of motion picture entertainment, from the earliest cave paintings which suggested movement up to the kinetoscope and the later introduction of sound and color. At the conclusion of the 12-minute lecture, Thomas said, “This is Cinerama,” and the screen expanded into the full Cinerama aspect ratio of three side-by-side screens and multiple sound tracks.
The film included scenes of a roller coaster, the temple dance from Aida, views of Niagara Falls, the Vienna Boys’ Choir, the canals of Venice, a military tattoo at Edinburgh Castle, a bullfight, a stereo sound demonstration, scenes from Cypress Gardens, and the singing of “America the Beautiful” by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir backed-up with scenic views from the nose of a low flying B-25.(1)
The cinerama technique seems pretty tame compared to today’s IMAX, surround sound, and 3D movie formats. But it was as thrilling as Al Jolson breaking into song in “The Jazz Singer” or black-and-white Kansan Dorothy waking up in full-color Munchkinland.
Panoramic art was not a new idea. Artists in the 19th century conceived of a 360-degree visual scale. It was called a “cyclorama” and visitors to these now-rare paintings are still wowed by the scale, detail and experience of being immersed in a 360-degree scene.
One of the most famous in the world is the “Panorama Mesdag,” housed in The Mesdag Museum in the Netherlands. The painting, a mind-boggling 14½ meters high and 114½ meters long, depicts life in the Dutch maritime village of Scheveningen in 1881. The scenes of coastal life were each produced first as sketches, transferred to canvas, and then painted to bring out the vivid and realistic panoramic view. The viewer stands in the middle of the surrounding panorama, mounted in a cylindrical building, and is captivated by the visual feast.
The recently restored Gettysburg Cyclorama has been welcoming visitors for more than 100 years. It depicts the full scope of the three day battle. Another famous cyclorama is at the Atlanta Civil War Museum. It depicts the battle of Atlanta and Sherman’s march to the sea.
Movies work on the principle that humans tend to be focused on what’s right in front of them, which would seem to be a product of the physiological fact that we don’t have eyes in the back of our heads (unless you’re a mother or a teacher). As a result, we’re easily enticed to focus on one image at a time which is quickly replaced by another. Unlike a panorama which invites lingering and taking in the whole scope of a work of art, film limits what we imagine and seeks to wrap up life with a neat conclusion in about two hours. We lose something when we can’t slow down enough to recognize and immerse ourselves in a panoramic vision of life — the kind of vision with which God sees the world.
The book of the prophet Habakkuk is like a section of a larger painting. The prophet and the people of Judah focus on what’s immediately in front of them: the invasion of the Babylonians. God’s response to the prophet’s lament reveals a more panoramic view of history and God’s purposes.
Habakkuk asks, “Lord, how long will I call for help and you not listen?” This is a recurring question throughout the prophetic literature and much of the Old Testament. It is asked so often that it must have been as obnoxious in God’s ears as the children’s long-drive refrain, “Are we there yet?” The prophet’s myopic vision sees only “injustice” and “anguish.” “Devastation and violence” seem to be the only themes revealed in his narrow line of sight. The unnamed wicked have “warped justice.” That most likely refers to the pre-exile worsening of the state of affairs of Judah during the reigns of Jehoiakim and his son Jehoiachin.
God does not provide a pretty picture of the coming invasion by the Babylonian army. God says that they will be his agents for punishing Judah for its apostasy. The images rival the terrible combat images of the Gettysburg and Atlanta Cycloramas or the film footage from the wars of the last 100 years. The Babylonian invasion was more than a battle; the future existence of God’s people was at stake.
In spite of the prophet’s narrow view, he is asking a broader underlying question: How can God visit punishment on his own people by using a pagan empire? Unfortunately the prophet asks a narrow question. He is confused by God’s seemingly unfair judgment. He asks, “Why would you look at the treacherous or keep silent when the wicked swallows one who is more righteous?”
As chapter two starts, the prophet goes up on the wall to look out on the wider horizon of reality. God’s reply to Habakkuk’s questioning puts the previous scenes of distress into a 360-degree context. Where prophet and people see only a section, a fleeting image of destruction, God, the master designer of past, present, and future, sees this scene as part of the all-encompassing canvas of his plan for the people of Judah and, indeed, for all creation. God reminds the prophet that “there is still a vision for the appointed time” and that if prophet and people will “wait for it; for it surely will come, it will not be late.” Only God knows how the whole picture will look when it is finished. Until then the righteous will live by faith.
In chapter three, Habakkuk prays to God:
Lord, I have heard your reputation.
I have seen your work.
Over time, revive it.
Over time, make it known.
Though angry, remember compassion. (Hab. 3:2)
As the prophet allows his vision to widen, he is more able to rest in the Lord, and to believe that God really does know what God is doing.
We are all victims of narrow vision, of over-focusing on small pieces of a larger whole that God has under control. This election cycle is an excellent example. We focus on one issue and ignore many others of equal importance. And in the various narrow focuses we take, we worry. We worry about a grandchild trying to find a job. We worry about what the stock market will do following next week’s election. We worry about the next doctor’s visit. We worry about all those threatened side-effects from some drug touted on television. We worry about Christians focusing on beliefs different from ours and about disciples being more interested in doing faith rather than sitting in pews being harangued or coddled by preachers. Add your own worries to this list.
In his Sermon on the Mount Jesus told his listeners to “stop worrying about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:34).
Worry is the narrow vision which only sees a minuscule slice of the whole of God’s reality. Habakkuk reminds us of the grander vision of God’s purposes. We see this in the canvas of God’s kingdom. More importantly we see it depicted and proclaimed in the suffering Jesus, whose death and resurrection prove that God is willing to enter the picture of our human predicament. “Father, into your hands I entrust my life” (Luke 23:46).
Sometimes it is not years of experience that allows us to see the larger picture God has created. Sometimes it only takes wide-eyed wonder and heartfelt compassion to know that God is at work far beyond our understanding.
You will remember the startling picture in the news of a young Syrian child refugee, Omran, strapped in seat in a emergency squad. Several weeks ago, President Obama told about receiving a letter from 6-year-old Alex from Scarsdale, New York.
“Alex told me that he wanted Omran to come live with him and his family. He wanted to share his bike, and teach him how to ride. He said his little sister would collect butterflies for him. ‘We can all play together,’ he wrote. ‘We will give him a family and he will be our brother.’ Those are the words of a six-year-old boy – a young child who has not learned to be cynical or suspicious or fearful of other people because of where they come from, how they look, or how they pray. We should all be more like Alex. Imagine what the world would look like if we were. Imagine the suffering we could ease and the lives we could save.”(2)
Alex wasn’t locked into a narrow momentary vision of the world which God has created.
Habakkuk invites us to join Alex in seeing that God has 360-degree vision for all that God has created from forever ago to forever from now. We will never be able to see the whole 360-degree work of God at once. Our human vision is limited. Nevertheless God invites us to trust that somehow, God will make all things good for those who trust in his panoramic vision of our lives. The risen and reigning Christ is the start of our widening vision.
General Resource: “The Panoramic Vision of God,” Homiletics, October 31, 2010.
(1) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Is_Cinerama, accessed October 6, 2016, 15:00 GMT.
(2) www.CNN.com, September 22, 2016.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
