Sunday, December 13, 2009

December 13, 2009

Zephaniah 3:14-20; Luke 3:7-18
“What Then Should We Do”

In Luke, John the Baptist calls the people to a major, radical change. It is not just changing one little thing – it is sweeping change. He says, “Bear fruit worthy of repentance!” He calls his listeners to something involving a fundamental change of heart, mind – and behavior. Real repentance, for John, brings about good things – in lives patterned after the God in Zephaniah who “saves the lame, gathers the outcast, and transforms shame into praise.” Then he says… every tree that does not bear this kind of fruit will be “cut down and thrown into the fire.”

Bearing fruit is the joy I think Zephaniah refers to. However his is a different image of joy than we are used to. It’s a picture disconnected from the symbols of status and success we are used to and removed from the idea of piling up a lot of stuff for ourselves– even though they can be good things. Giving and receiving gifts can be good and money can provide peace and stability, blessing and fulfillment to our lives and the lives of others. But that’s not joy … at least not joy found in Zephaniah and other parts of the Bible.
                                                       
Zephaniah reminded the children of Israel of their need to turn away from their earthly “gods,” the ‘things’ they’ve devoted their lives to and the signs of success they’ve been striving for. If you don’t, he says, you will regret it. Does that sound sort of familiar? A lot like what John the Baptist was saying, right? “Bear fruit worthy of repentance or… be cut down.” Like those who first heard his warning, I am thinking, repent – fire, repent – fire, repent it is, but “What then should we do?” What is it all of us are to do?

John’s answer is pretty simple. He says, 1) “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” Yet it is not really so simple. I have more than one coat in the closet – in fact, I have more than one closet. So, do I drop off to Goodwill the coat I seldom use any more, and the one I don’t really like so much? Is that what John means? Or do I drop off one of my “good coats”- the ones I really like and wear most of the time or the one the kids gave me for Christmas last year?” What did John mean anyway?

And then when he tells us to take no more than what is “necesssary” and to be “satisfied” with what we have received – it makes you want to just throw up your hands and say, “It’s too hard, John! I can’t do it!” And the John says (like Jillian and Bob on The Biggest Loser), “You are doing it! Right now.” This is what God intends for all of us. “So,” John says, “change if you must, but get to it!” This is the sweet fruit of repentance, the sweet promise of Advent, and the joy Zephaniah speaks of.

Zephaniah gives us a glimpse of a real, God-style joy. He talks about… a day when God no longer has to deal harshly with his people… a day when the judgment for pursuing phony joys is no longer held against those made right with God through the grace of God… a day when the Lord in the midst of the people will take away all their fears… a day when people’s shame will be transformed into shouts of praise because the things of their past that separated them from God, will have been dealt with by God.

Zephaniah’s joy doesn’t come from storing up a lot of money or being successful – temporary pleasures that come and go making us feel good only for a while – but rather from the fact God has found joy in us! Real joy, Zephaniah would say, comes from knowing without a doubt that “The Lord your God is with you.” It comes from knowing that God himself delights in you and that “he will rejoice over you.” This is the joy of the Advent candle we light today a joy essential to the celebration of Jesus’ birth.

It is essential because in the arrival of the Christ child, God tells us that those Zephaniah-style “joy days” have come! In Jesus’ birth, the Lord has come into our midst, and our greatest shame is now forgiven. That is our reason to be joyful – to celebrate today! Proclaiming Jesus’ birth to the shepherds, the angel makes it clear there’s just one symbol, one sure sign, of joy: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10-11, NIV).

Except for Jesus, all the joys of life will someday be gone, destroyed or simply disappear. The money will run out, the kids will stop calling as often as we would like and our health will begin to fail. But when we are connected and close to Christ, the life God gives us – a life patterned after Jesus’ – lasts forever. The peace that comes from our connectedness to God surpasses all understanding and the gifts God offers — forgiveness and grace —never gets old. So, what then should we do?

To celebrate Christmas right, it is important to remember that the spending and the giving at this time of year, or the endless activities, aren’t themselves a means to or a sign of our joy. Rather, they’re the things we get to do that can make a real difference in the lives of others because we live a life patterned after God. Because of the forgiving work of Jesus Christ, our hearts can be full of Zephaniah’s real joy. That is good news!

As followers of Christ, what makes us different isn’t so much what we do, it’s where we find our joy in doing it. We work hard to provide for our families – like other’s do. We love our children – like other’s do. We give great gifts – like other’s do. We throw great parties and sing all our favorite songs – like other’s do. Yet when we have “turned back” and are really connected to God, we do it not for ourselves or for our own joy, but for God’s. We work, we love, we give, we sing and we play to the glory of God and in our shared joy from Jesus. That’s who we are.

Zephaniah tells us the Lord is in our midst - and that too is reason to celebrate. On this third Sunday in Advent, we can rejoice. We can retell the story of God’s incarnation, the birth of the baby Jesus, and the coming of the Lord into our world for others to hear and understand. This is the Christmas story.

An eleven year old boy understood the importance of the story when he wrote this letter:  Dear Santa:  Please do not come to my house this Christmas. The people in Africa are in famine, torn by war. Most of all their prosperity and future is lost. They need the gift of food, the gift of hope, the gift of peace, the gift of love. This is written in an extreme tone of urgency--quick help them before it is too late. Sincerely, James.  
  
The Christmas story is about God’s great love for us. Here is a younger child’s view of love during this holiday season: “Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.” Perhaps we too will be able to stop for a while and listen.

Let’s joyfully keep telling the Christmas story to a world that desperately needs to hear. This Christmas may we be a people who sing with Zephaniah because our real joy, Jesus Christ, has arrived and lives among us. Amen.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

December 6, 2009

Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 3: 1-6
Second Sunday of Advent - Year C

Last week we heard that the Lord is coming. That is part of our belief as Christians - “Christ has come. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” We don’t know when. We do know though that after today there are only nineteen days until Christmas! Are you ready? Week one of Advent is over. Today is the beginning of week two. So, if we are not ready today, how about next Sunday when we move into week three, will we be ready then?
-    Will we have all our shopping done?
-    The gifts wrapped?
-    The tree decorated?
-    The cards sent?
-    The goodies made?
So… what things do you need to do before you’ll be ready? (Allow time for answers.)

There was a much simpler time, when people weren’t concerned at all about shopping for presents, wrapping gifts, decorating the tree, sending cards or making enough goodies to go around. People then weren’t concerned about any of that, but after they heard a ‘crazy’ man named John rant and rave about getting their lives in order, they became concerned. And why wouldn’t they be a little anxious, reminded of Malachi’s  prophecy: "But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap"

They heard John the Baptist crying out to them, “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth”- Luke 3:4-6 (NRSV) and they understood it was time - time to get their hearts right and return to God and receive the coming Lord. They needed to get their minds on God and off all the things that had become distractions.

They needed to have all the crooked twists and turns their lives had taken straightened out. Sometimes we can have our priorities straight and our goals clear but things happen, one thing leads to another, pretty soon everything gets twisted and we are there alone, far from God. That’s when a path made straight would be good.

They needed to have all the countless bumps, potholes and rough places of their lives smoothed out. The same height of pride, valleys of despair, and jagged pain of loss are just as troublesome for us today. A smoother way would definitely be better.

Before John came along, the people were only concerned with what was important to them and not so much what was important to God. But John changed that. When he announced, “Prepare the way of the Lord…” If the people listened to John, they would be changed. If they turned back to God, the order that was missing in their lives would be restored. If they chose God, the kingdom would be very near indeed.

We get busy doing the things that need to get done, especially at this time of year… shopping for the ‘right’ gifts, decorating the Christmas tree, sending out all those cards and letters, fixing all the fudge and stuff, or getting ready for the family Christmas gathering. And we think… a little help would be nice.

And as if we didn’t have enough to do this time of year, it can be easy to get caught up in more things ‘to do’ and more places ‘to go’ – and our trying to cram even more and more things into an already hectic season. We do what we know we shouldn’t and don’t do what we know we should. That is when things need to change.

John told everyone to make the crooked ways straight and the rough places smooth, but how? They were the ones who had gotten themselves to this point in the first place. He said get ready, but for what? They were the ones who were clueless and had no idea of what God expected of them. He said “the one” is coming, but who? They had already lost count of all the ‘messiahs’ they had placed their hopes in.

Fortunately, it would not be up to them. It is the Lord - "the messenger of the covenant" - who is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap. It is he who will purify the people of the covenant. And, despite our feelings or fears about the matter, this is actually good news! It is not up to us; it is taken care of.

Sin is our separation from God. It distorts and twists the good God created us to be. And in sin, we cannot clean ourselves. We need someone to do the cleaning for us - to prepare us for the coming of God’s kingdom. Dr. Steven Cook writes, “If Malachi is right, and he is, then being a part of Jesus' reign to come means that almost everything about us will indeed have to change. We'll even have to die to self, and orient ourselves outward to others!” God comes to us as Emmanuel, to destroy the evil in us and in the world, comes to draw us out of death into life – to change us. And though his coming can be cause for concern, it’s reality also brings a certain peace of mind.

Today the second candle on our Advent wreath has been lit. This is the candle of peace for the Lord of Lords, the Prince of Peace. In this season of Advent as we await the Lord’s arrival, it is a good time to ask if we have gotten things right, and if not, are we prepared as the church to be changed? Are we prepared to look into our hearts and ask God to straighten our crooked ways and smooth out all our rough places so we too might walk with Jesus every day of our lives? Are we prepared to ready ourselves for Christmas and the coming Christ and all that means for us. May it be so.


Sunday, November 29, 2009

November 29, 2009

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13; Luke 21:25-36

Today is the first day of Advent, a time for considering the coming (and arrival) of someone very important – Jesus the Christ. Many Christians observe Advent as a special season of regular prayer, eating in moderation, and being sorry for their wrongdoing. Advent also marks the beginning of a new church year. This coming year, our gospel readings will be from Luke, considered by some to be a bright and "up and out" gospel that encourages an always advancing mission for the church.

The original source for this Sunday's text is Mark 13, sometimes called the "little apocalypse" which talks about things coming to an end. Luke, however, written 15 years later, c. 85 AD, draws a picture of chaos coming from the cosmos (the sun, moon, and stars) to the powers of the world and then to the inner, personal life of people (as they hear the "sound of sea and waves" and experience great chaos). People would "faint from fear" and their breath taken away in the fear and expectation of what would come.

Jesus says in Luke, “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory,” recalling Daniel 7:13: "...like a son of man coming with the clouds of heaven..." a passage that figures large in all four gospels and in virtually every apocalyptic passage in the New Testament. In Daniel, the son of man (literally), "human one"--will have royal power and be king. Luke maintains this sense: "...when you see these things coming to pass, you know that the kingdom of God is near." (21:31)

Advent is all about God coming to be with us. But what does that mean – ‘coming’? Fred Gealy, former professor at Perkins School of Theology, suggests, “there is not some place out there where God comes from. God does not sit somewhere up in the Milky Way enveloped in a cloud... God is nowhere. We… know what it means for us to come and go. But what does it mean to say that God comes-- this one who is everywhere and yet nowhere, who fills all things, yet is contained in none.”

Gealy has also said, “we live only as God comes to give us life. Our very being is in God - a gift received each and every day. That gift is new each morning and like breathing, we can’t survive on yesterday’s breath. God comes again and again to bring the fresh gift of life.” I like that image of God coming. Maybe that is why we say come quickly Lord Jesus into our hearts, and in the next breath, but who can stand the day of the coming, … when God appears.

Because some days the life we face seems like our world is coming apart, its foundations shook. Most of us would rather run or hide. Yet Luke says, this is the time for people to show courage and faith – he says, "Stand up (when you are down) and hold your heads high." What seems like bad news is really good news "for your deliverance is drawing near."

Leonard Beechy writes, “The church exists to remind us we live in the time between the times, between what is dying and what is being born, between the “already” of Christ’s reign and the “not yet” of Advent. Advent draws us into a drama, but the pull of its narrative is not away from our lives, but more deeply into them.” assuring us that whatever devastation we experience, it is neither permanent nor ultimate – “your deliverance is drawing near."

 “Jesus’ ministry,” says Walter Brueggemann, “takes place between the clinging and the yearning.” (Prophetic Imagination) That’s also where we can find ourselves at Advent, in the times between the times - both an evening time and a morning time - when we learn what we must give up and to what we must open our hands. That time is “near."

Jesus said, “When you see the fig tree and "all the trees" sprout new shoots you "know" summer is near. “ Likewise, he pointed out, when you see these things taking place (things like cosmic uproar and inner anxiety) know that “the kingdom of God is near.” (21:31) God's kingdom is just around the corner – so close, in fact, that "this generation” will see it in their lifetime. Good news indeed! The Lord is coming!

John Petty tells a story of being at an Arts Festival, held each summer in his city, and noticing a street preacher on one of the corners urging everyone to get right with God because Jesus was coming soon. An old man, walking with a cane, heard his warning and fired back, "What in the blazes are you talking about? He's already here."

Is it possible Jesus has been here with us all along? That he didn't just go off some-where waiting for some future day to come back. In his incarnation, Christ became intimately connected with the world. Might it be possible, he never let it go. This generation will not pass away "until all is fulfilled.” The kingdom of God is "among you"

Our lives could very well be going great and still be filled with things ending - all the time. We have no idea what will happen tomorrow and so we have reason to be anxious. Disaster could strike at any moment – in fact, it will strike someone tomorrow with a job lost, a divorce, a spot on an x-ray… something. And the time will come when that someone is us. It is going to happen. “When you see these things taking place…”

At one time or another, for every person on earth, everything that used to feel solid and sure will start to come apart. Paul Tillich called this "the shaking of the foundations." Jesus said to expect it: "For it will come upon everyone… everything would pass away, including heaven and earth,” And then he gave us hope – “but my words will not."

Therefore in “this time between times,” "watch” and “pray we might be strengthened to… be stood before the son of man” “…may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus…” (1 Thess. 3:13) For "All the things are coming to be" - both the bad and the good. And he will raise you up before him. There, in his power, you will "be stood." “The days are coming says the Lord when I will fulfill the promise...” (Jer. 33:14-16)



Sunday, November 22, 2009

November 22, 2009

Revelation 1:4-8; John 18:33-37
“Belonging To the Truth”

In Mark last week, Jesus told his followers, “This is just the beginning.” In other words, no matter what is going on around you, no matter what changes are taking place, no matter what you come up against, it is not the end, it is part of “what is” and the beginning of what will be for you – so continue on and always be ready. Jesus was giving his disciples a preview of what their lives would very well become if they stayed centered on God’s purpose for them – their sharing of the gospel with everyone.”

Paul on the other hand, in his letter to the Hebrews, was reminding this wavering community of faith not to shy away from a lifestyle of which Christ and everything he taught was the center or to give in to the pressure to return to their old habits and beliefs when things started to turn sour. So he told them, hang in there! “Hold fast to the confession of your hope without wavering.”  For them too, this was just the beginning.

In today’s text, when asked by Pilate if he is king, Jesus’ response is yes and no. The safe answer would have been no, but Jesus says, “It depends on what you mean by king. King is your word, not mine.” If it is not Jesus’ word, then why do we celebrate today as Christ the King Sunday? Do we have it all wrong, like Pilate, or what? Do we try to frame Jesus’ importance by ‘what’ he is, in earthly terms, rather than by what he reveals – the revelation of God’s suffering love for us? Let us “crown him with many crowns” but remember that the one we worship is much more than an earthly king.

It is not necessary our image of Christ the King be a victorious Jesus, golden-robed and crowned, brandishing a great sword, as long as that image, whatever it may be, is indicative of Christ’s rule in our lives and in the life of the world God loves. After all, we do – don’t we – belong to the truth and listen to his voice? Jesus told Pilate he came into the world “to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Our listening to Christ and all that entails marks the beginning of our faith.  

Pilate then, in a voice of power or contempt or curiosity asks, "What is truth?"  Placing ourselves in Pilate’s shoes, with the status quo being threatened by this ‘rag-a-muffin’ man of God - who points out he doesn't need to be a king in the traditional sense because his is not that kind of kingdom - how do we respond? When his is not a kingdom of soldiers or violent conflict or democratic vote, but a kingdom in which his power comes from God, what then? What do we ask?

For the church today, is Christ really our king? Or do we hold, and act out of, a serious misunderstanding or illusion of who Jesus really is – not only in our lives but also in the life of the world? Is Christ our king, center of our life, the one we serve? And if not, who or what is? Jesus said, “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Last week in the message, community shaped my understanding of being a Christian. It does today as well. As a community of faith, what do we say, and believe, about this Jesus? Do we belong to the truth he talks about? Do we live it? Would people recognize us because of what we do? Walter Brueggemann says that the "truth evidenced in Jesus is not an idea, not a concept, not a formulation, not a fact. It is rather a way of being in the world in suffering and hope..." Would people say that about the way this community of faith lives its life? “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’

Our identity in the world as God’s people requires our loyalty to God’s truth revealed. As Eugene Peterson interprets John’s verse in The Message, "Everyone who cares for truth, who has any feeling for the truth, recognizes my voice." To whom is our love given? Whose voice do we hear?

Some have suggested the role of the church is to provide a venue for our lifelong self-examination. That would be good. Emilie Townes reminds us of two things – 1) "God truly is a God of love and grace, who wills the blessings of creation in our lives," and 2) God "asks us to look deeply into who we are and what we have become, to try to live into what we can and should be." “We do this best.” She says, “in community – praying, worshipping, studying and meeting together – as people of faith.
What if our faith were transparent, where we examined and shared openly what we believe or were able to speak the truth about our life in Christ. It is tough enough for the church to carry on this sort of self-examination, let alone facilitate a similar process for individual members, but that may be exactly what we need to do. Despite our claims of allegiance to Christ, in fact we may actually be struggling with the truth and what we, who belong to the truth, are being called to do.

Which brings us to the question of what it means to be the church - the Body of Christ - in the world. On this Christ the King Sunday, we might ask how the "not-of-this-world" reign of Jesus Christ relates to the very-much-of-this-world life we live. Walter Brueggemann says: "The gospel narrative (today), …makes a claim…that in Jesus of Nazareth the things of the world are settled on God's terms." When looking around then at the poverty, injustice, and suffering experienced by so many, do we hear the truth of "the one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little" (Exodus 16) or do we hear something quite different?

Our task is “to make disciples of Christ for the transformation of the world,” but we are not left to do it all on our own – that is the good news. In Christ, we can expect a different kind of power to establish "a wise reign" in this world, and to help us be participants in it - not alone, but in community. Rodger Y. Nishioka says “there is to be a ‘belonging’ part of this Christ the King celebration because when Jesus says, ‘that everyone who listen to his voice belong to the truth and are part of his kingdom,’ he is actually saying that belonging is less about individual decisions and more about collective participation in a community that transcends the self." Imagine that!

Today marks the end of another liturgical year as we observe Christ the King Sunday. All our Sunday meditations have brought us to this point – to this end – and to Christ's omega point. So today, we look forward to Christ’s reign, “a kingdom of truth and life, of holiness and grace, of justice and peace" not only in the future but in the here and now – and a new beginning as we live the truth revealed in Jesus Christ - to love God and to love our neighbor as God loves us.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

November 15, 2009

Hebrews 10:11-14, 19-25; Mark 13:1-8
This Is Just The Beginning

In Mark, Jesus tells his followers, “This is just the beginning.” In other words, no matter what is going on around you, no matter what changes are taking place, no matter what you come up against, it is not the end, it is part of “what is” and the beginning of what will be for you – so continue on and always be ready. Jesus was laying out for his disciples a lifestyle, the type of life they would experience if they were to remain centered on God’s purpose for them – their sharing of the gospel with everyone.” He was giving them a preview of what their lives would very well become.

Paul on the other hand, in his letter to the Hebrews, was reminding this wavering community of faith not to shy away from a lifestyle of which Christ and everything he taught was the center. He didn’t want them to give in to the pressure to return to their old habits and beliefs when things were starting to go bad. He didn’t want them to become “watered down” Christians. So he told them, hang in there! “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering.”  For them too, this was just the beginning.

I remember a time when things were a lot simpler and I was a lot younger – probably about fifty-five years younger. Dismissed for recess, we would hurry out the front door of our one room country school and run to the swings to be first at attempting ‘world record’ jumps; or to a pair of worn wooden teeter totters for a game of ‘alligator pit;’ or to the trapeze bar, hanging from the swing pole, for a ‘death defying’ flight above the audience of ants below looking up in hushed amazement. Those who were brave or foolish, attempted the feat hanging upside down by our knees. I never could hang by my toes like an older brother, who would practice his skill after our nightly chores by hanging from rafter ties in the barn. (Maybe his ‘logger’ boots were the difference.) There were also the regular ‘hanging’ contests on the trapeze bar which included everyone, girls and boys alike – all seeing who could hold on the longest. After jumping up and grabbing the bar with both hands, it was a matter of strength and endurance.

Like Paul said, “Holding fast… without wavering” – was the key, if you were going to win. Always though our weight was too much, our endurance not enough and our strength lacking. Sooner or later, we all let go. Some held on for a very long time, others not so long. But letting go never disqualified anyone from trying again. You didn’t have to be perfect. You didn’t have to hold on until the bell rang and recess was over. You just had to hold on as best you could. And, when it was your turn again, you would just jump up, grab hold of the bar with both hands – and try your very best to hold on, again. There was grace in that game – as a matter of fact, I think Grace won more than once.

God’s grace is also a part of the process of our being made holy. If we truly follow Christ, we grow. We change. We are transformed. We are always in process. Paul wanted his readers to know God is faithful, partnering with us on the journey, helping us to hold on, giving us strength. God promises to be faithful. So, hang in there! This is just the beginning.

In the process of sanctification – of being made holy, we are in partnership with God. Philippians 2 reminds us, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you…” God’s grace includes the Holy Spirit and us in this process of change, growth and transformation. The proper response is to hold on as best you can without wavering. This is just the beginning. “Not one stone will be left here upon another…” so hang on and get ready, “this is but the beginning.” God is patient. God is kind. God is love. And God is with us Paul says, whenever we meet in community.

Nowhere in Scripture is following Christ understood to be an individual effort. Rather, as Paul writes, we are to “provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another” (Hebrews 10:24). Following Christ is not something we can do on our own. Jesus originally called twelve disciples, not just one. He sent seventy-two out in pairs, not by themselves. The truth is God’s grace is most evident in our helping one another be faithful followers of Christ. There is grace in community.

It has been suggested our transformation is not an individual partnership with God, but a corporate one between each other and God. Others are to know our spiritual story and journey of transformation. It is important that someone else knows your gifts and knows your faults. Somebody else needs to ask you hard questions and offer you kind words. If not, you will remain unchanged.

Some things don’t really change. Our grandchildren are very much into the Beatles. When John Lennon and Paul McCartney, wrote their last song together, they reminded those of us who not only sang out of key but also would rather find God in their lyrics rather than drugs - “I get by with a little help from my friends.” Friends were important then and friends are important now, especially in our community of faith.

God has given us one other for our grace filled journey together. God’s grace is found in the community we offer each other and the community we receive from one another. It is only in community, we are able to provoke and encourage one another to give our life completely to the sovereignty of Jesus Christ – to live a life of love and good works.

So, how might we do this, encourage one another to love and good works? Peter J. Gomes, a professor at Harvard Divinity School, told the story of when he was a boy, the longest part of the Sunday service was the pastoral prayer. He said, “The sermon was easier to “listen to” because it was just the minister going on and on and on (you could ignore that). But the pastoral prayer was talking to God; (so you) had to pay attention.” These prayers, he said, have given way to prayers of “joys and concerns.” Perhaps it is time for "prayers of encouragement" during which “we cheer our fellow believers to love and good works; or offer ways we can be of assistance to the people in this community of faith we call our own. These prayers of encouragement would then be our response to people’s strengths and opportunities rather than of their weaknesses and needs.

A prayer of encouragement and love, a prayer for affirmation of one another - who would have thought? Perhaps, this is just the beginning.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

November 8, 2009

Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44
“He sat down… and watched the crowd.”

Jesus said, “Beware of the scribes, who…”  Who do what?  They walk around arrogantly in ‘fancy clothes;’ they draw attention to themselves in public; they have to sit in the best seats at church or at the head table at special dinners; they take advantage of widows; and, to get attention, they say long prayers. He condemns the scribes not because of who they are, but because of what they do.
Brian Stoffregen (Faith Lutheran Church, Marysville, CA) suggests that the issue is not the "scribes" so such, but the need to watch out for people who act in the ways Jesus describes. Today we could say: "Watch out for pastors or church members who..." or "Watch out for the students or teachers who..." or "Watch out for farmers or businessperson who..." Certainly not all those identified fit Jesus’ description, but the point of the references is to denounce what they do rather than who they are. Jesus told his followers, “Watch out for the people who…” – especially if you have or are becoming one.
Then… “He sat down… and watched the crowd.”
The point is, like the disciples we have been Jesus’ followers long enough now that we know what we should be - a caring person, someone sensitive to others, who is patient and kind. We know it, and yet at times we find ourselves walking around “in long robes,” desperately wanting the respect of others, and hoping for the best seats in the house. After all, hadn’t Jesus’ disciples argued not too long before this about who would sit next to him when he came into his kingdom?
In today’s story, when Jesus points out that the scribes are not loving others as they should – that they are really only concerned about themselves and ‘lording it over others’ – he is not just condemning their actions, he is in fact warning his disciples (and us) to not be like them. And if the scribes doing these things were not bad enough – their wanting to do them was worse. So, perhaps, that is the real issue – the scribes want people to think they are better than others.
So, Mark’s warning to the early Christian community is this: Watch out for these people. Don't be like them. They pretend to care, but they don’t. They pretend to pray, but that is not really what they are doing. They pretend to put God first, but in reality they put themselves at the top of the list. How can someone pray for justice and not work at making society more just? How can someone ask for healing and not go to the doctor or take the medicine? How can someone pray for the church to grow and not actively invite friends and neighbors to church? Isn’t the sincerity of our prayer determined by what we are actually willing to do, rather than just the words we pray? Are we really willing to help the ‘least of us’? Or are we just pretending most of the time?
 “He sat down… and watched the crowd.”
In today’s story, Jesus is somewhat of a “people watcher.” In the temple, he watches and listens to them, observing how they relate to one another. He studies what they do and why they do it. He not only sees how much each person puts in the treasury box, but how they do it. Are they joyful? Do they give with a happy heart? Or are they sad? Do they make a big show of it? Or is it given with humility? How are the people putting their money in the offering plate? How are they giving of themselves? Some gave discreetly, quietly or hoping to go unnoticed – while others wanted to be seen so their offering would be recognized.
Jesus seems to suggest the heart of giving lies in the distinction between giving from what we have left over, and giving from the first fruits. The widow is blessed because she knows, unlike so many people, God is all she really has. There wasn’t anything of value she could give. Her two small coins, what could they do? Not a lot. And yet her giving reflected her complete trust in God, even though the scribes, the representatives of God’s institution, had probably ripped her off, taking everything she had, except these two small coins.
There have been many interpretations of what Jesus may have been telling his disciples about the widow’s giving - perhaps they are familiar. We have ‘heard’ Jesus’ teaching to be: 1) The true measure of our gift is not how much we give but how much we keep, OR the percentage of our means that the gift represents, OR the self-denial involved and the cost of giving for us. 2) It is not the amount given that matters but the spirit in which it is given. 3) The true gift is to give everything we have. 4) What is given should correspond with one's means. 5) It is our duty to give to the poor.
“He sat down… and watched the crowd.”
All that Jesus says by way of comment is: “She gave more . . . for they all contributed out of their abundance but she out of her want has put in everything she had, her whole living.” Is Jesus saying the widow gave more because her giving was sacrificial? Or is there more to it than that?
May I suggest our hearing the widow’s part of the story - as an example of how all of us are to give - may be totally wrong, touching on something Mark never intended. You know how sometimes we hear something and disconnect before we hear the rest as our mind takes off in a whole new direction. Could that have happened here? Perhaps. Maybe the lesson has less to do about the widow’s giving and more about the institution to which she gave.
Scholars have noted that by pairing the story of Jesus observing the widow’s offering with his statement against the religious leaders in the preceding verses (12:38-40), the lectionary is inviting us to hear this event differently than we usually do at this time of year. When Jesus criticizes the scribes, saying they “devour widow’s houses” and then comments that the widow “out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on,” he is in fact condemning the religious institution that would take a “poor widow’s” last penny when in fact, it should be ‘taking care’ of her. Jesus is saying the religious institution, which in our case is the church, is not to take from the poor, the marginalized and powerless, but is to provide for them.
So, the message of today’s gospel is not that all of us should dig deeper into your pockets and increase our giving. Nor is it that all of us are tied too closely to our money. The message of today’s gospel for everyone to hear is that as the church we should not ask more of those struggling to make ends meet each month, those raising children alone, or those without a job, rather we should be asking them to give less and to take more from us.
We, as individuals and as the church body, need to rethink giving—who should give, how much should be given, as well as who should receive. What we are doing must be examined. It is true the church needs more money to achieve our mission goals – to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world, but giving to the church should never be a financial hardship on anyone, especially when there are others who can give more. Therefore our invitation to those who have little to give must always be to give a little, and our invitation to those who have a lot must always be to give a lot.
“He sat down… and watched the crowd.”

Sunday, November 1, 2009

November 1, 2009

Revelation 21:1-6; John 11:32-44  
“All Saints Day: Saints Among Us”
 
Last night was Halloween; today is All Saints Day, tomorrow is All Souls Day. No explanation is needed for the first, the second and third perhaps. All Souls Day is for remembering those who have died this past year, All Saints Day is for remembering the saints, all Christian people of every time and place. These three days have their roots in an ancient Celtic festival during which time the veil between worlds became especially porous. So then, in that spirit, we are invited to consider both the past and the present today – and those ‘saints’ who have helped open to us God’s kingdom.

I hope this service has a little of that sense for you – with the veil becoming less opaque as our souls are touched – by the lighting of candles, the quiet time, the prayer, the listening, and the remembering “the saints” who have impacted our lives over the years. With every part of this service today, may another memory of those who have passed through the thin, thin place be yours. And as we remember, may they linger a bit longer that, in a gathering of good spirits, we might still be connected.

Today’s scripture affirms that God's future happens also here and now and in all kinds of ways. In Revelation, John sees a “new Jerusalem.” Robert Gundry interprets “the New Jerusalem” not as a future dwelling place, but rather as their future selves and state. He sees a people as they will be, living a “kingdom” life, close to God. Might these be the saints we recognize today?

Matthew Muters, in his commentary of the story of Lazarus found in John, offers the idea that Jesus calls each of us to "come out" from our tomb (whatever has entombed us) and to be freed from the power of Death. He said, “Lazarus' resurrection was a sign of Gods Power and presence in this world. It was the power of the Kingdom in the here and now!” Those who have heard the call and have come out of their tombs have been given a “kingdom” life worth living. Might these be the saints we recognize today?

Still not sure who these saints might be? Then listen to what others, a lot smarter than me, have said.

1.
all day, every day (c) 2009  by Thom M. Shuman

st. lucy stopped for a moment
while she rested her arms and legs
   from pushing her little
   brother down the sidewalk    in his electric car whose
   battery had run down;
stroking Dusty's nose,
her eyes shimmered with delight
and she exploded in a giggle,
       'you're a silly dog!'
   when he suddenly baptized her
           with a sloppy kiss.

pausing for a few moments
from helping his elderly neighbor,
st. chuck leaned on his rake,
   smiling as his grandkids,
   eagerly and deliberately
   scattered the leaves he had
   spent all afternoon carefully
       piling by the curb,
whispering, 'what a life!'

slowly, painstakingly, as if
she were joining together a puzzle,
differently-abled st. jennifer
   put each item in its place
   in the cloth bags,
   not making them too heavy
   (as the customer requested)
       making sure the bread
       ended up on top,
       and nothing too heavy
       was near the eggs.

they're all around us, aren't they,
those precious drops of grace
sprinkled in our lives?

2.
'All the places of our lives are sanctuaries; some of them
just happen to have steeples.  And all the people in our lives
are saints; it's just that some of them have day jobs and most
will never have feast days named for them.'  (Robert Benson)

3.
'There are no perfect human beings!  Persons can be found
who are good, very good indeed, in fact, great.  There do
in fact exist creators, seers, sages, saints, shakers, and movers. . .
even if they are uncommon and do not come by the dozen.
And yet these very same people can at times be boring, irritating,
petulant, selfish, angry, or depressed.  To avoid disillusionment
with human nature, we must first give up our illusions about it.'
(Abraham Maslow)

4.
'In God's holy flirtation with the world, God occasionally drops
a handkerchief.  These handkerchiefs are called saints.'
(Frederick Buechner)

5.
'A person can be as truly a saint in a factory as in monastery,
and there is as much need of one in the first as in the other.'
(Robert McCracken)

6.
'Saints are not born to it
   Except most rarely
Nor by default do they come to God having no other choice.
   But rather, like sunflowers do they grow and turn,
   Following the course of God with upturned faces,
Growing each day taller, stronger, more resistant to the wind of the world
and even in the times without sun
   They wait, turned toward dawn, knowing the promise of light.
In their holy simplicity, the saints of God remember what I forget too easily:
   That having found the Son, the source of life,
   All other light, however strong, is not enough.' (Anne Squire-Buresh)


May today be a day of remembering the saints in our lives, but more importantly may it be a day of imagining our own sainthood, and what that might mean for others.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

October 25, 2009

Job 42:1-17
“…but now my eye sees you.”

What better way to learn something than from a story? Jesus, I think, alluded to that when he tells his disciples, “Unless you receive the kingdom like a child, you will never enter it (even though it is right here).” Of course Jesus may have been referring to something other than a story, but for now think about what he might have been saying if he WAS talking about children learning and understanding things - important things about God and God’s kingdom - in the context of a story. After all, weren’t most of Jesus’ lessons to his disciples embedded in stories or parables, some of which started with words sort of like, “There was once… ”

In October, our Hebrew Testament readings have been from book of Job, which have been the basis for my messages this month in order that we might better understand the nature of God, as well as the suffering we experience in life. First we considered Job’s attempts to reconcile his suffering and faith. Then we heard Job’s “bitter complaint” to God; followed by God’s response last week, and now finally, today, we witness Job’s restoration. When the story begun, Job knew God; yet by stories end, Job understood much better the true nature of God. He could now say, “…but now my eye sees you.”

Job’s story is a story, which could very well be ours. It starts out, “There was once… a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who (was amazed by) God and turned away from evil.” (Job 1:1) He was a good man, as close to God as anyone could be – and yet all these terrible things happen to him. What’s with that? Good question, but that is not where the lesson is. Although the story seems to be about Job, it is really about God. So, rather than being about the ‘cause and effect’ of suffering – why bad things happen - it is really about ‘how do we reconcile suffering and faith?’ One does not exclude the other. The first lesson of faith is about “receiving the bad with the good.”

If we believe a life of ‘right living’ protects us from suffering or bad things happening to us - we need to get over it. If we believe God blesses the faithful and rewards the righteous with what they deserve – we need to get over it. If we believe God reigns down pain and suffering on those out of sync with God, on the sinful and the faithless – we need to get over it. Because, I think, the story of Job, right from the very beginning, paints a quite different picture of God.

A week later, we heard Job complaining bitterly because he could not find God anywhere. He thought that if he found God, he could plead his case and a just God would set his ‘friends’ straight, letting them know Job was a righteous man. Despite what his friends said, he hadn’t done anything wrong – and God would prove him right. Despite what they said, he wasn’t going to confess to sins that weren’t his. God would hear him out if only he could find God. Maybe we have been there ourselves – alone?

In our own lives, when caught up in some terrible ordeal or situation beyond our control and God doesn’t answer, when praying and nothing noticeable happens, when finding our self at the end of our rope, and God seems “off somewhere” unwilling or unable to rescue us – what then? There is good reason to complain bitterly– right there along side Job. There is good reason to challenge God - to demand answers. Like Job, frustration and bitterness set in and we want to know “where’s the justice in this!” If God was only here, hearing our case and considering the evidence, things would be different then - God WOULD have to rule in our favor. We have been there, haven’t we?

When God is needed most, God IS NOT there for Job! It isn’t the suffering that bothers Job, but the feeling that God seems distant and unknown. He longs for God’s presence. He needs, so much, God’s compassion and justice. That is why he is so upset. In the devastating darkness of his despair, Job cries out, “Where are you, God!”

Then last week, God responded, though not as Job expected. God appears but really never responded to Job’s complaint. God asks Job, “Who are you to doubt me, and everything I have done (concerning creation)?” Then Job learns something. He realizes that neither he nor his friends have really understood the world, or anything for that matter – including God, and so he has no grounds for complaint against God. He was wrong thinking that God’s justice would prove him right. And most importantly, his friends were wrong: the innocent do suffer for a long time even when they don’t deserve it; Job’s suffering is not because of anything his family did; and Job’s maintaining his innocence and refusing to admit something he hasn’t done is not a “greater sin.”

Today, at the end of this story, Job’s life is restored. Everything is back like it was – well almost. Some things are even better. Job has learned a lesson. He acknowledges God’s “purpose” and sovereignty, although he still does not understand them. He admits his ignorance. Job’s faith “in God” is replaced by his experience of God as evidenced by his saying, “…but now my eye sees you.” Job, who is (and always has been) godly, “repents” not by turning away from God “in sin,” but in turning toward God “in awe.”

Any understanding of suffering tied to the idea of retribution or ‘payback’ - that a person’s suffering is because they have sinned - is proven wrong by the story of Job. Likewise it would be wrong for us to think the restoration of Job's fortunes and relationships is the result of his “passing” some test or his words of repentance and humility. Job’s restoration is simply because it is God’s pleasure to do so, period. God's reasons for giving things to Job are as unexplained as the reasons they were taken away. God does not explain suffering, but God does not explain blessing either. Both are twin mysteries, we will never know or understand.

In Job’s attempt to reconcile suffering and faith, an important lesson is learned that would benefit all of us. Having learned a new thing about God, Job could now say, “…but now my eye sees you.” He discovered it is God’s pleasure to do whatever God pleases – especially when it means being present to comfort us during times of crisis and grief – even when that presence is not always clear or deserved. In Archibald MacLeish’s J.B.: A Play in Verse (based on the story of Job) J.B.’s wife says to her husband, "You wanted justice, didn't you? There isn't any...there is only love."

Perhaps that is the lesson to be learned about God in the story of Job. It is God’s pleasure to love us - that we might say, “Now, my eye sees you.” A good lesson indeed.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

October 11, 2009

Job 23:1-17; Mark 10:17-31
“O That I Knew…”

Last week we heard Job ask the question, “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” teaching us that even for the godly, life can include the bad with the good. We learned that Job’s story is our story as we realized his struggle to reconcile his suffering and faith might very well be ours. As his story points out, those faithful to God are not exempt from suffering or from struggling with their faith. Today, we hear Job’s “bitter complaint” to God as he cannot find God anywhere. Eventually God will respond, a little at least, and not as Job might expect - but that is later, as will be Job’s restoration at the end of the story. But those lessons are for another day.

In the chapters between last weeks and today’s reading, Job’s three friends are absolutely no help at all. ‘Eli’ says that if Job is innocent his suffering will soon end. Wrong. ‘Bill’ says Job’s suffering and misfortune must be because his family was sinful. Wrong. And ‘Zo’ says Job is even a worse sinner because he refuses to admit it. Wrong. They all three say that if he wants relief from his suffering he needs to repent of his sins, but Job is adamant that he hasn't sinned. Even though he is suffering terribly, he has not done anything wrong. Despite all the things that have happened to destroy his life, he is still a good man.

His friends are just as sure. He must have done something really bad to be suffering so much. Their understanding of suffering is tied to the idea of retribution – that if a person sins they are going to suffer the consequences. So their line of reasoning is that Job must have sinned to be suffering so much. Job ignores their advice and instead calls on God to prove him right, saying “I would lay my case before him and fill my mouth with arguments.” He is not seeking restoration or redress for the wrongs he has suffered at this point, but for his name to be cleared of the unfounded accusations his friends have made against him. Job clings to his integrity, unwilling to confess to sins he knows he has never committed. God will hear him; God will make things right.

But Job cannot find God, anywhere. No matter where he looks, God is nowhere to be found. Experiencing the silence of God, Job cries out and finds no answer.  In our own lives, when caught up in some terrible ordeal or situations beyond our control and hearing no word or answer from God, when praying and nothing visible happens; when finding one’s self at the end of our rope, and God seems “off somewhere” unwilling or unable to rescue us – what then? It is at times like those we find ourselves in good company – right there beside Job.

It is in situations like that, where God is nowhere to be found, a person’s attitude can change – and God is challenged. We demand answers. Frustration and bitterness toward what has happened leads to hostility. Job thought if only he could plead his case before God, he would receive justice. He is sure that if he appeals to reason, God WILL rule in his favor. So with his evidence in hand, Job goes looking for God, wanting to be heard. We have been on similar journeys, haven’t we?

If only he knew where to find God. Job longs for God presence. It is as if he is saying, “What I wouldn’t give to know where to find God.” Ironically Job has already given everything to end up where he is (his family, his wealth, his health). Job is ready for his day in court. But no matter where he goes, God is not there. Job’s God does not seem to be anything like the God of Psalm 139, “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.” If I take the wings of the morning and settle in the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me and your right hand shall hold me fast.” For Job, the opposite is true, God is nowhere to be found.

Job is nervous. He is terrified. He is alone. What upsets Job the most is not the loss of his fortune, or his physical pain, or even the loss of his hopes and dreams which were found in his family, but that God is absent. When God is needed most, God is not there! At the heart of his complaint is neither his suffering or that God would allow such a thing, but that very moment, God feels so distant and so far removed as to be unknowable. Job longs for a sense of God’s presence, for God’s awareness of his troubles, for God’s compassion and justice. That is what drives Job’s complaint.

He gives voice to the bitter complaints and fears we all might feel, even today. Deeply depressed, Job feels surrounded by darkness. He is fully aware of where his friends stand and yet Job is still convinced he doesn’t deserve what is happening to him. His integrity doesn’t allow him to repent, which his friends say he must do. Instead, he is determined more than ever to find an audience with God, totally confident that God WILL listen to him – if only he knew where to find God.

Job is convinced that God knows how he has lived his life. He is confident God is fully aware of the kind of person he is, a righteous man - a good man - and that being the case, he, Job, will ultimately be justified and emerge blameless. However, he is also thinking that before any of that happens, God may have a whole lot more in store for him – and that scares him. Job is fearful of what could happen when he does find God and is in God’s presence. He is beginning to dread when that happens, even though he keeps on searching.

Job is confident about his relationship with God on the one hand, and yet on the other hand, he is very much aware of the mystery and what he might not know about God. Like us, he seems sure of his faith, but then again... “O That I Knew…”

The story of Job affirms that it is okay to rail and complain against God, to say precisely how we feel, and we can be confident that God will hear and understand – even though it makes us nervous and anxious because of God’s great power (and what God can do). Job says, “If only I could vanish in darkness.” (17) And in his misery, he keeps looking for God. The good news for us today is that in our darkness, God can be found – an uncomprehensible God to be sure – and yet a God of great compassion and love. In Archibald MacLeish’s J.B.: A Play in Verse (based on the story of Job) J.B.’s wife says to her husband, "You wanted justice, didn't you? There isn't any...there is only love."

 

Sunday, October 4, 2009

October 4, 2009

Job 1:1, 2:1-10; Mark 10:2-16
“There Was Once…”

In the gospel of Mark today, Jesus is asked (by the Pharisees) a question of law. It’s a tough question – a question about divorce – to test him. “Is it lawful…” But Jesus turns their question about divorce into a lesson about God. What God has done, human beings like us cannot undo or change.

And when his disciples grumbled about the children people were bringing to him for a blessing, he turned that into a lesson about God as well. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” God's kingdom is for all who come, seeking to be blessed by God. The kingdom – God present in their lives – is theirs. It is a gift. And because of God’s radical hospitality – everyone is received, all are honored. God welcomes us all.

Jesus tells his disciples, “Unless you receive the kingdom like a child, you will never enter it (even though it is right here).” Imagine the looks on their faces and the thoughts running through their minds when “he took the children up into his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.” Do you suppose seeing that, they too gathered in close around him, to be held in his arms (if only in their minds) to receive his blessing?

There is nothing in Mark that would suggest Jesus told the children a story that day. Yet I can imagine Jesus doing that very thing, especially with all those children gathered around him. And I can imagine that if he did have a story for them (with another lesson about God), he probably began with words something like, “There was once… ”

The book of Job starts out that way, “There was once… ” 
“There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who (was amazed by) God and turned away from evil.” (Job 1:1)

Now if anyone could be close to God it probably would have to be someone like Job, right? Someone who has never done anything wrong, someone who has always been good, someone who has always was in awe of God, amazed at what God can do, someone who has never hated anyone.

Job’s story is offered as a thoughtful/ethical/theological exchange of ideas, and in this story we are invited to see our world and ourselves in conversation with the various characters. It is a story that, on the surface, seems to be about the ‘cause and effect’ of suffering – why does suffering take place and who is responsible for what is happening. When things go wrong in our lives, it is only natural to want to know why. Maybe if we knew why, we could deal with it easier or maybe we could keep it from happening again. Yet think about Job’s question of his friends when he says, “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?”

This is what the story of Job is really about - how do we reconcile suffering and faith? Job’s wife asks later in chapter 2, “"Do you still persist in your integrity?" After all this, do you still believe what you did, do you still honor God?

The story of Job very definitely raises questions about the traditional theology of his day, a theology based on the practice of piety and the belief of divine retribution. In other words, the story of Job reveals that a life of ‘right living’ does not protect us from suffering or bad things happening to us. Job not only speaks to the thinking of his day, but to a dominant understanding of evangelical Christianity today — namely the so-called "prosperity gospel" - which can be misleading when it comes to an understanding of the real nature of God.

The idea of God blessing the faithful, rewarding the righteous with what they deserve, and reigning down pain and suffering on those out of sync with God is rejected outright by Job. It is rejected in his life – in the struggles of a genuinely "blameless and upright" man – and in his response – to both his wife and to his situation. “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” Job asks.

Of course, the answer is we shall – as part of life – receive both the good AND the bad. Job's question helps in our understanding because it anticipates and sort of sets up his struggle with suffering and faith, and his attempt to maintain faith in the midst of a struggle to which we also are invited. The important thing to note here is that these struggles result from a genuine and life-giving relationship with God. They are not signs of our sinfulness or faithlessness, period. And the story of Job bears that out.

“There was once… a man named Job. ” Over the next several weeks we will struggle with Job as he attempts to reconcile his suffering and faith. And in doing so, I hope we can all gain a better understanding of the suffering we experience in life, as well as a better understanding of God. During that time, we will hear Job’s “bitter complaint” to God; hear a little bit of God’s response and finally witness Job’s restoration. Job’s story is our story, or at least it could be.

Perhaps for us, the lesson today (and the good news) is: “What is impossible for us to earn, IS possible for God to give – a relationship and our being close to God.”

Sunday, September 27, 2009

September 27, 2009 Message

September 27, 2009
Esther 7:1-10; Mark 9:38-50
…And the Life of My People”

Today’s lesson comes from a book of the Bible bearing the name of a woman, Esther. It is unique, not because it has a women’s name, but because its text never mentions the name of God or says anything at all about religion. It is a fascinating book with a rich and complex story, telling of the Jewish people’s deliverance a long time ago from death at the hands of Haman, the wicked assistant to the Persian king, Ahasuerus. Each year this story is remembered when the Jewish people celebrate Purim, a holiday of feasting, sharing gifts, and time for remembering the poor (February/March).

The book of Esther has everything good movies are made of: irony and intrigue, an ever-thickening plot, clever wits and evil villains, royal splendor and a weak ruler, and, of course, a heroine who rises to the challenge and saves the day. It is a story of survival in the face of overwhelming power and circumstances not of her making.

In chapter one, the king divorces his first wife Vashti for standing up to him. He has a beauty contest to replace her, and Esther wins. Esther is timid and submissive at first, but as the story progresses she becomes a subtle manipulator of the king and in the end, with prodding from her uncle Mordecai, she uses her favor with him as queen to save her people, who are about to be sent away to their death. Because of her courage, she saves Mordecai from the gallows and her people from annihilation.

Esther did something she didn’t have to do. It would have been easier for her not to say anything at all, to go on living the life of a queen – which had to be pretty good – but she didn’t. Esther put everything on the line when she included herself as part of her community and asked “for the life of her people.” So, 1) What did Esther mean when she said, "If I perish, I perish?" 2) How can we live in this world and at the same time “be of the Kingdom” Jesus talks about? and 3) What courage does ‘our’ community – the people of which we are a part – require of us?

Remember earlier when it was noted that the book of Esther, in the original Hebrew text, does not mention God or prayer, or anything at all about what religious people do, or don’t do for that matter. And yet, because it is a book of the Bible, we know God has to be there somewhere, even when it may not be obvious at first glance, but where? After all, throughout the stories of the Bible (which are the stories of Israel, the people of God) God provides and protects? With that in mind, UCC Pastor Kate Huey suggests “Providence runs through this story as a thread of evidence pointing to God's presence with God's people. Esther is a religious work, even though no reference to God is ever made. “It is like.” she says, “God is there standing in the wings, following the drama and arranging the props for a successful resolution of the play… provided its players do their part by acting wisely and courageously."

In other words, God works through human beings. And as the book of Esther points out, those human beings can just as well be flawed and “living in the world” of which they are a part. You see, God’s work is accomplished more often than not through the actions of imperfect but courageous human beings who were probably never sure they were doing the right thing. Ted Kennedy, in the eulogy for his brother Robert, said "he saw wrong and tried to right it." What better testimony to a person’s life, regardless of political party, than that? But it isn't always easy to know how to go about righting wrongs, and we're not always confident that we're the ones called to do so in a particular situation, or we're unsure about how to do it. Uncle Mordecai’s urging of Esther to step out of her comfort zone and to consider that she was made queen specifically for this moment when she could save her people rings true for all of us.

"It is possible," Sidnie White Crawford writes, "that Esther became queen just to fulfill God's purpose, but humans cannot know that. They must act, with profound hope that they are thereby participating in the divine scheme and all they can do is act, in the hope that their action corresponds to the plan and purpose of God." Esther listened to her uncle. She turned herself over to Providence saying, "If I perish, I perish." Her hope is for her community – her people – and in what God will do.

How can we live in this world and at the same time “be of the Kingdom” Jesus talks about?  In Esther, there is no mention of religious practices or the institution of Judaism. Perhaps it was omitted so we might understand how much the Jewish community had been assimilated into the Persian empire around them. If it happened then, wouldn't it be just as easy today, for the same thing to happen? Living under the pressures and conditions of “this world,” where so many people are completely wrapped up in today’s culture and its values, might it be just as easy for God’s people today to not realize who they are and the life they are in danger of losing? Sure it would.

Our being of the kingdom Jesus talks about doesn’t require our living apart, in isolation, from “this world.” It does, however, require our taking a stand - our sticking our necks out - and owning the community of which we are a part, even to the point of putting the community, which may have lost its identity, first. It is “in this world” we best remember who we are.

And yet who we are is not revealed in the things that shape the rhythms of our life - our sporting events, our music, our politics or our patriotism, but in those places we feel most at home. Kenneth Carter, Jr. asks an unsettling question when he says, “Is it possible that our reaction to his words, our discomfort, reflects our own degree of assimilation and how much we have forgotten that we follow a Teacher who taught us to love our enemies, turn the other cheek, and lay down our lives? A Teacher who observed how difficult it is for a rich person to enter heaven, and encouraged the earnestly religious to "sell everything and give it to the poor"? He concluded, “We've somehow managed to make ourselves feel quite at home with very different values, even as we claim to follow Jesus.” Jesus said, “The kingdom is near.” God is close, even in “this world.”

While we may seem very far away in place and time and, to an extent, in circumstance, we share the ancient Jewish need to be a faithful people in the midst of all the values and pressures unrelated to who we are. How then can we, like those ancient Jews, live where we live, not withdrawing into a separate culture, and yet remain distinctly true to who we are and what we say we believe, true to the One to whom we belong?

An unnamed God can still be known

H. James Hopkins, observes that "we are drawn to Esther's story and to the hope that though God is not named, God can still be known." In the stories and places and experiences that are not explicitly religious, the Still-speaking God finds ways to reach us, and to show us that God can be known, and heard, and trusted with our lives and the lives of those we love. Like Esther, we are called to step out in faith, courageously, on behalf of our community, and to say with her, in those supplementary verses, where she does indeed pray: "Save me from my fear"

Living in a more or less secular culture, where questions of faith are often seen as marginal or irrelevant, we might learn from the story of Esther that a person’s tangible faith does matter. It does have consequence. And it does say something about our ‘saltiness’ within the community we live. (Mark 9:50) It has a profound effect on my life and “the life of my people.”