12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 1 ~ Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14, (15-20).
12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 2 ~ Isaiah 62:6-12; Psalm 97; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:(1-7), 8-20.
12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 3 ~ Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1:1-4, (5-12); John 1:1-14.
What Does This Mean?
“...Mary treasured all these things and pondered on them, reflected on them in her heart.” — Luke 2:19.
It was late in the afternoon of a sunny, spring day that Mary set out walking, climbing the hill. [1] The wind was steady and a little cool. But it was a light wind.
Flowers had started to work their magic. There was a blaze of color on the hillside. She was sure when she and her husband had come down that same hillside into town, into Bethlehem, just five days ago those flowers had not yet bloomed.
Was not this same hill simply a field of mud then? The pallet of color on display now made her wonder if she had ever before seen such an array of nature, had ever before seen such an display of beauty created by God.
She reached the top of the hill and sat down amidst the colors. She had made the climb because needed some time alone. She needed to process what had happened. And she trusted Joseph to stay with and to care for the baby, even though the infant was not yet three days old.
She had been present when other children were born. She was there when her cousin, Elizabeth, gave birth to John. That was hard. Elizabeth was not young and the birth was difficult.
The birth of this child, her child, her first, whom she named Yeshua— Jesus in the Greek— surprised her in part because it was not hard. On the other hand, the baby seemed to have colic that first evening and constantly cried the whole night. She got no sleep. Joseph got no sleep.
But she also looked on the bright side of things. She and Joseph had been lucky. While there was no room at the place they wanted to stay, the lodging did have a barn they could use.
Joseph, her husband, was inventive and handy. He found fresh straw in the loft, not soiled like a lot of what you would find in a barn. He pulled the hay down. He arranged it carefully. It was soft. It provided some warmth. It was just right.
The bed of straw was just right even for a newborn child who cried the whole night long. She did not know what to make of this crying that first night but suddenly, as the dawn approached, the crying ceased and the child rested. But the whole time those strange shepherds were there, Yeshua did cry. (Slight pause.)
Maybe it was not the shepherds, themselves, who were strange. Maybe what had happened to them and what they said was strange. What they said was one of the reasons she needed time alone, needed time to think, needed time to process.
The shepherds talked about light shining all around them in the dark. They said they heard a voice. They thought it had been an encounter with an angel.
This tale might not make sense to some people. But it made sense to Mary.
After all, she knew about angels. She had spoken with one. Her cousin Elizabeth had spoken with one. Angel— the word means messenger from God— angel, angels were real. She knew that.
Based on what the shepherds said, the message sent by God through an angel was simple and direct: in the City of David, In Bethlehem, the Messiah had been born. And so these young shepherds— she thought not a one of them was over twelve— these shepherds came looking for an infant, a newborn and found that infant in a stable. They found Joseph. They found Mary. All that left a question on her heart: what does this mean?
When the angel spoke to Mary, the word Messiah was never used. But, when Mary visited Elizabeth, her cousin did make that claim: Mary was to be the mother of the Messiah.
And that left a question on her heart: what does this mean? And so, the question churned within her and she purposefully wandered up the hillside to think, to ponder, to be alone. She felt a need to pray. (Slight pause.)
For some reason, as she sat on the ground surrounded by flowers, her thoughts drifted back several years to the Rabbi she knew in the town in which she was raised. She once asked the Rabbi when the Messiah might come.
The response was, at one the same time, reassuring and ambiguous. “The Messiah, the Messiah,” he said, “shall come. The prophet Isaiah says the Messiah will come as a child. That seems obvious. Everyone needs to be born.”
“And when the Messiah comes, it will be a time of great anguish, great darkness for the people. But the Messiah shall bring peace.”
“Well, we might as well be enslaved right now,” said Mary. “The occupying Army of Rome walks our streets daily. They arrest whomever they want whenever they want.”
“They crucify whomever they want whenever they want. They kill people who have done nothing. Perhaps the time for the Messiah is now.”
He seemed to put her off, as if she was being frivolous. “Yes, my child— the Messiah may well come and bring peace in our lifetime.” (Slight pause.)
“Messiah,” she thought to herself. “Elizabeth said it. The shepherds claimed the angels said it. No. Unlikely. Yet what the Rabbi said was true: everyone needs to be born, even a Messiah.” (Slight pause.)
Mary stood. Night was fast approaching and she needed to be back down the hill, back with her child, back with her husband. She looked at the flowers surrounding her. She looked at the sky. The light was fading but the sky was still blue.
She thought back to the time the angel spoke with her. She realized that when she said, “Let it be done to me as you say” she had surrendered her heart.
And maybe that was what the Messiah was really about: surrendering your heart to God. Then she realized something she had not thought about in months.
The angel told her what name she was to give the child. Yeshua— a name which means God saves, a name which means deliverance.
She had not remember this instruction from the angel until that very moment. And yet, she had done it. She had named the child Yeshua— God saves, deliverance.
What did this mean? Did this mean the child was to be the Messiah of God? She did not know the answer.
As Mary walked down the hill she kept thinking about it. The words of Isaiah came back to her: “The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining. / For a child is born to us, / an heir given to us;...”
Once back in the barn she took the child from Joseph and held it tenderly. She looked into the baby’s eyes. She saw... love. “Messiah?” she thought. “I don’t know.
But I do know God loves this child. God loves me. God love all people. Perhaps this child, my child— Yeshua— God saves, deliverance— perhaps this child will be the one.” Amen.
12/24/2012, Christmas Eve
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I have often said Christmas is the most important Christian feast on the secular calendar. At the very least for we Christians Easter, Pentecost, the Epiphany and Trinity Sunday should be counted as more important than Christmas. Which is not to say Christmas lacks importance. It is to say we need to reclaim Christmas as a Christian feast. In an effort to reclaim real Christmas, let me make a suggestion, one I make each year. Please do not wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’ When you greet someone say ‘Happy Christmas.’ People can be merry about the new year, but let’s be happy about what we celebrate tonight: the birth of the Messiah, present in our midst.”
BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing from the words of the Prophet Isaiah in the 60th chapter (Isaiah 60:19-20a): The sun shall no longer be / your light by day, / nor for brightness shall the moon / give you light by night; / for Yahweh, God, will be your everlasting light, / and your glory. / Amen.
[1] This was stated at the beginning of the service (as it is every year): “Many scholars think Jesus was born in what we would call the year Four Before the Common Era, or Four, B.C.E., in the Springtime of that year.”
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
12/23/2012 ~ Fourth Sunday of Advent ~ Joy ~ Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:46b-55 or Psalm 80:1-7; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45, (46-55).
Equity and Equality
These words are from Luke/Acts in the section known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” — Luke 1: 52-53.
Well I suppose I need to start by saying I presume you all noticed the world did not end on Friday. Did it? You are all here, are you not? (Well, I suppose some of you are here, kind of— but— different issue.) [Slight pause.]
Next, having at the beginning of the service addressed receiving the Christmas Fund offering, here is a question. And, by the way, it’s not a question about any kind of apocalypse. Which is to say, it is a question not to be taken lightly. (Slight pause.)
From where do pastors come? After all, pastors are not hatched nor do they arrive in the beak of a stork. (Slight pause.)
In our tradition, pastors start as members of the laity who sit among us, in the pews of our churches. These prospective pastors, people who are possibly pastors, are identified by other members of the laity who sit with them in those pews. So, pastors are members of the laity whom other members of the laity identify as having the necessary gifts to do the work of being a pastor.
And so it came to pass I was identified by members of the laity in First Parish Church, United Church of Christ of Brunswick, Maine. It was the members of that church, having indicated to me that I might have the necessary gifts for ministry, who plucked me from the pew and sent me to Bangor Theological Seminary.
Please notice— I said I might have the gifts. They thought I had the gifts. Sometimes the process is hard. You see, the wash out rate of students in Main Line Seminaries is higher than the wash out rate in law school, notorious for its wash out rate.
Don’t let anyone tell you seminary is an easy road. If a seminary does not question everything you ever believed about God and everything you ever believed about yourself, that institution is doing it wrong.
But that’s a side matter. I’d like to get back to the church who send me to seminary, First Parish in Brunswick. (And, by the way, since a church is a group of people, not a building, ‘who,’ the word I just used— ‘the church who sent me’— ‘who’ is the appropriate pronoun to use when referring to a church.)
Needless to say, I still have ties at First Parish. I still have friends there. I still get their monthly newsletter. And, whereas we, in this church, have no plans to send out our January newsletter until January 4th, I already have the January newsletter of First Parish, Brunswick in my hand.
In that newsletter the pastor, Mary Baard told this story and I’ve asked her permission to use it. Further, and as a ‘heads up,’ I may even use this story again in our own newsletter. The story ends with a poem not written by Mary, which I also have permission to use.
These are the words of the Rev. Ms. Baard in that newsletter (quote): “On January 13, 2013 we will celebrate baptisms with people who range in age from a toddler to adult. It is a profound blessing to share in this sacred ritual with one another, as we remember God’s love for each person and we promise our love, support and care for the people being baptized. In the wake of the Newtown tragedy, we realize again how essential it is for communities to support one another.”
“A year ago, at the beginning of 2012, we celebrated baptism with Caroline Gill, age 12 at that time, who just a few months before that had expressed an interest in going to church. Soon after her baptism, she wrote this poem. We printed in it in the March newsletter, but it seems appropriate to share it again,” says Mary. (Slight pause.)
This is the poem. Its title is Baptism. I’ve placed a copy of it on an insert in the bulletin. Do read along. It might help you understand it.
Baptism
I am nervous, shaking
I am tall among taller
I am one inside one million
I am taken, taken to the water
I am amazed, hypnotized
By its shine its crystal-ness.
I am asked, answered
I am standing
I am blessed
I am wet with His love,
soaked in His warmth
I am still one but now in
one million loving hearts.
I am Caroline
I am ♥ †
— sign of a heart, sign of a cross— printed on that page. (Slight pause.) And these words are from the work known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” (Slight pause.)
The texts for this Fourth Sunday in Advent capture something of the flavor theologians constantly attribute to the entire Bible, a flavor, an attitude they call “already and not yet.” The Micah reading appears in a context that reflects difficult times for the people of God. Many scholars believe Micah wrote around the time of the fall of Jerusalem in 587 Before the Common Era.
At one point the Prophet suddenly begins to speak in tones of joy. Little Bethlehem, of small consequence in so many ways, will give to Israel the One who will rule in peace.
And this is to be no ordinary ruler of the house of David but one whose origins are (quote) “from ancient days” and whose (quote) “greatness” shall (quote) “reach to the ends of the earth.” This rule and this ruler is yet to come, but the joyful effect is already felt in the hearts of those who are aware of the nearness and the reality of this one. (Slight pause.) “Already and not yet.” (Slight pause.)
And then there is Luke. Yes, this story concentrates on Mary and Elizabeth. But there is so much more. In the details we find exactly what Luke writes about throughout Luke/Acts and a good deal of it is about “already and not yet.”
Just like Hannah the spirit of Mary rejoices in God. These words mirror the song of Hannah. And the words speak of the redeeming work of God not as in the future but as already having been fulfilled. Such is the confidence of faith.
Further, the overthrow of the powerful both has and will come about through the mounting up of the weak in rebellion. And it will also come to fruition because of the coming of God in the weakness of a child.
The couplets of the Magnificat, this Scriptural poem, describe the dramatic reversal that is the signature of the acts of God— God on the side of the outcast. I suspect we have heard the Magnificat of Mary so often we may have forgotten its subversive, revolutionary, dangerous power. The proud are scattered, the powerful deposed.
By contrast, the lowly are exalted, the hungry fed while the rich are sent away empty. Further, the Magnificat, more so than any predictions of what is to come, praises God for the goodness of the nature of God and the redemption Israel. It is our hope that this the nature of God that we, the church, have experienced. (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to the apocalypse which has not happened. You see, the reality of an apocalypse from the Biblical prospective is exactly as Micah and the Magnificat suggest. It is “already and not yet.”
It is already and not yet because there is an important ingredient missing. And that ingredient, that part, is us. As the 12 year old Caroline Gill obviously already knows (quote): “I am still one but now in / one million loving hearts.”
You see, in the work known as Luke Jesus, the Messiah, is clearly born among the poor and lowly and the birth is clearly announced to poor and lowly. And the call Luke makes to us is a call to all of us to action— action to do the will of God to work toward the dominion of God, even though the dominion is both “already and not yet.”
Caroline Gill, age 12, clearly knows the birth of the Messiah, the birth we are about to celebrate, is about the covenant between all of us and God. An the birth of the Messiah, in which that covenant finds its embodiment, is meant to contain a radical message.
How radical? This is evident throughout Scripture. The covenant is about the equity and the equality of all of us— about the equity and the equality of all of us. Indeed, the covenant is also about the equity and the equality of each of us.
And yes, a little child often leads us. In this case, Caroline Gill, age 12, tells us that we are (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” (Slight pause.) So, we are the children in Newtown, Connecticut. We are the victims in Aurora, Colorado.
Byt you don’t need me to rehearse that list. What I need you to understand is “already but not yet” is a reality that calls us to action. Unless we, in the pews, and myself and my colleagues in the pulpits, the ones who have been identified as pastors and teachers— unless we, all of us, do our part, the promises of God about “already” will not fulfilled.
So, let us, together, celebrate the birth of the Messiah in this way: let this Christmas, this celebration, be a call to us to understand and to act on being (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” Amen.
12/23/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The late theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said this (quote): ‘In the final analysis, the questions of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Go in peace for God is with us. Go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that God is steadfast. Amen.
Equity and Equality
These words are from Luke/Acts in the section known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” — Luke 1: 52-53.
Well I suppose I need to start by saying I presume you all noticed the world did not end on Friday. Did it? You are all here, are you not? (Well, I suppose some of you are here, kind of— but— different issue.) [Slight pause.]
Next, having at the beginning of the service addressed receiving the Christmas Fund offering, here is a question. And, by the way, it’s not a question about any kind of apocalypse. Which is to say, it is a question not to be taken lightly. (Slight pause.)
From where do pastors come? After all, pastors are not hatched nor do they arrive in the beak of a stork. (Slight pause.)
In our tradition, pastors start as members of the laity who sit among us, in the pews of our churches. These prospective pastors, people who are possibly pastors, are identified by other members of the laity who sit with them in those pews. So, pastors are members of the laity whom other members of the laity identify as having the necessary gifts to do the work of being a pastor.
And so it came to pass I was identified by members of the laity in First Parish Church, United Church of Christ of Brunswick, Maine. It was the members of that church, having indicated to me that I might have the necessary gifts for ministry, who plucked me from the pew and sent me to Bangor Theological Seminary.
Please notice— I said I might have the gifts. They thought I had the gifts. Sometimes the process is hard. You see, the wash out rate of students in Main Line Seminaries is higher than the wash out rate in law school, notorious for its wash out rate.
Don’t let anyone tell you seminary is an easy road. If a seminary does not question everything you ever believed about God and everything you ever believed about yourself, that institution is doing it wrong.
But that’s a side matter. I’d like to get back to the church who send me to seminary, First Parish in Brunswick. (And, by the way, since a church is a group of people, not a building, ‘who,’ the word I just used— ‘the church who sent me’— ‘who’ is the appropriate pronoun to use when referring to a church.)
Needless to say, I still have ties at First Parish. I still have friends there. I still get their monthly newsletter. And, whereas we, in this church, have no plans to send out our January newsletter until January 4th, I already have the January newsletter of First Parish, Brunswick in my hand.
In that newsletter the pastor, Mary Baard told this story and I’ve asked her permission to use it. Further, and as a ‘heads up,’ I may even use this story again in our own newsletter. The story ends with a poem not written by Mary, which I also have permission to use.
These are the words of the Rev. Ms. Baard in that newsletter (quote): “On January 13, 2013 we will celebrate baptisms with people who range in age from a toddler to adult. It is a profound blessing to share in this sacred ritual with one another, as we remember God’s love for each person and we promise our love, support and care for the people being baptized. In the wake of the Newtown tragedy, we realize again how essential it is for communities to support one another.”
“A year ago, at the beginning of 2012, we celebrated baptism with Caroline Gill, age 12 at that time, who just a few months before that had expressed an interest in going to church. Soon after her baptism, she wrote this poem. We printed in it in the March newsletter, but it seems appropriate to share it again,” says Mary. (Slight pause.)
This is the poem. Its title is Baptism. I’ve placed a copy of it on an insert in the bulletin. Do read along. It might help you understand it.
Baptism
I am nervous, shaking
I am tall among taller
I am one inside one million
I am taken, taken to the water
I am amazed, hypnotized
By its shine its crystal-ness.
I am asked, answered
I am standing
I am blessed
I am wet with His love,
soaked in His warmth
I am still one but now in
one million loving hearts.
I am Caroline
I am ♥ †
— sign of a heart, sign of a cross— printed on that page. (Slight pause.) And these words are from the work known as Luke: “You have brought down, / deposed the powerful, the mighty / from their thrones, / and raised the lowly to high places; / You have filled the hungry / with good things, / while You have sent / the rich away empty.” (Slight pause.)
The texts for this Fourth Sunday in Advent capture something of the flavor theologians constantly attribute to the entire Bible, a flavor, an attitude they call “already and not yet.” The Micah reading appears in a context that reflects difficult times for the people of God. Many scholars believe Micah wrote around the time of the fall of Jerusalem in 587 Before the Common Era.
At one point the Prophet suddenly begins to speak in tones of joy. Little Bethlehem, of small consequence in so many ways, will give to Israel the One who will rule in peace.
And this is to be no ordinary ruler of the house of David but one whose origins are (quote) “from ancient days” and whose (quote) “greatness” shall (quote) “reach to the ends of the earth.” This rule and this ruler is yet to come, but the joyful effect is already felt in the hearts of those who are aware of the nearness and the reality of this one. (Slight pause.) “Already and not yet.” (Slight pause.)
And then there is Luke. Yes, this story concentrates on Mary and Elizabeth. But there is so much more. In the details we find exactly what Luke writes about throughout Luke/Acts and a good deal of it is about “already and not yet.”
Just like Hannah the spirit of Mary rejoices in God. These words mirror the song of Hannah. And the words speak of the redeeming work of God not as in the future but as already having been fulfilled. Such is the confidence of faith.
Further, the overthrow of the powerful both has and will come about through the mounting up of the weak in rebellion. And it will also come to fruition because of the coming of God in the weakness of a child.
The couplets of the Magnificat, this Scriptural poem, describe the dramatic reversal that is the signature of the acts of God— God on the side of the outcast. I suspect we have heard the Magnificat of Mary so often we may have forgotten its subversive, revolutionary, dangerous power. The proud are scattered, the powerful deposed.
By contrast, the lowly are exalted, the hungry fed while the rich are sent away empty. Further, the Magnificat, more so than any predictions of what is to come, praises God for the goodness of the nature of God and the redemption Israel. It is our hope that this the nature of God that we, the church, have experienced. (Slight pause.)
That brings me back to the apocalypse which has not happened. You see, the reality of an apocalypse from the Biblical prospective is exactly as Micah and the Magnificat suggest. It is “already and not yet.”
It is already and not yet because there is an important ingredient missing. And that ingredient, that part, is us. As the 12 year old Caroline Gill obviously already knows (quote): “I am still one but now in / one million loving hearts.”
You see, in the work known as Luke Jesus, the Messiah, is clearly born among the poor and lowly and the birth is clearly announced to poor and lowly. And the call Luke makes to us is a call to all of us to action— action to do the will of God to work toward the dominion of God, even though the dominion is both “already and not yet.”
Caroline Gill, age 12, clearly knows the birth of the Messiah, the birth we are about to celebrate, is about the covenant between all of us and God. An the birth of the Messiah, in which that covenant finds its embodiment, is meant to contain a radical message.
How radical? This is evident throughout Scripture. The covenant is about the equity and the equality of all of us— about the equity and the equality of all of us. Indeed, the covenant is also about the equity and the equality of each of us.
And yes, a little child often leads us. In this case, Caroline Gill, age 12, tells us that we are (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” (Slight pause.) So, we are the children in Newtown, Connecticut. We are the victims in Aurora, Colorado.
Byt you don’t need me to rehearse that list. What I need you to understand is “already but not yet” is a reality that calls us to action. Unless we, in the pews, and myself and my colleagues in the pulpits, the ones who have been identified as pastors and teachers— unless we, all of us, do our part, the promises of God about “already” will not fulfilled.
So, let us, together, celebrate the birth of the Messiah in this way: let this Christmas, this celebration, be a call to us to understand and to act on being (quote): “one but now in / one million loving hearts.” Amen.
12/23/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The late theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said this (quote): ‘In the final analysis, the questions of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened.’”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Go in peace for God is with us. Go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that God is steadfast. Amen.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Sermon ~ 12/09/2012 ~ The Prophecy Is Telegraphed
12/09/2012 ~ Second Sunday of Advent ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Peace Is Celebrated ~ Baruch 5:1-9 or Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 1:68-79; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6.
The Prophecy Is Telegraphed
These words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” — Malachi 3:1.
There is a story often told in the State of Maine which tries to illustrate how much God cares about us and how often we miss that reality. I’m quite sure this story is told outside of the State of Maine but, as a proud graduate of Bangor Theological Seminary, I want to offer the Maine version. In the case of the Maine rendition, the story is told about a fellow named Jasper Beal.
(For this story, the pastor breaks out a Maine accent. The text reflects this.) There was a farmah by the name of Jaspah Beal who had a small fahm right on the Androscoggin Rivah, pretty near Lisbon Falls, only about five miles from Durham— Durham, where that fellah Stephen King grew up. And yes, you are right. King went to Lisbon Falls High School. Hearhd tell, he’s made quite a name for himself.
Well, despite being a small fahm, the acreage next to the Androscoggin was fertile, so growing things proved to be a prosperous enterprise. This particular piece of land was situated well to the north of where the tidewatah reaches the rivah. Tidewatah, that’s the place where the rivah is close to the ocean— so close it becomes way too salty to be of any help to agricultural. People do try to fahm some down rivah, down by the tidewatah. But it be hardah down there.
Now, Spring— Spring can be a dangerous season in Maine, especially upstream. When the weathah stahts to get just a tad warmah, it becomes a bad ideah to walk across the rivah like everyone does all wintah, seeing as how the ice starts a movin’. Seems like a paradox, but ice flows— rivah ice— it moves. And movin’ ice can jam things up quite a bit. Indeed, one time enough ice wedged itself in the narrah stretch right by the falls, just below Jaspah’s fahm so that the watah backed up a nasty amount.
One afternoon Beal noticed watah from the rivah in places where he’d nevah seen it before. It was a creepin’ ovah the field where he’d be soon puttin’ in some Potatahs. He was not too worried about it. Potatahs usually don’t get planted till April, sometimes lattah in this neck of the woods. And he figuahed the watah would be back to its nahmal course by then. (Slight pause.)
When Jaspah got up the next mornin’, the watah was lapping ovah his front porch. As Jaspah stood inside the doh-or wrapped up wahm in his L. L. Bean coat, looking out at the watah, the local police chief, Larry Thibodaux, come along in a boat and rowed right up to him. “Jaspah— you’d bettah get in,” said the chief. “The watah’s goin’ to keep commin’ up for a while.”
“No,” said Jaspah. “I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Well, that afternoon, Jaspah was lookin’ out the front windah of the second floor, the watah having pretty much made the first floor not liveable exceptin’ if you were a trout. That’s when the Androscoggin Country Sheriff, one Harold Robbins, came along in a motah boat and pulled up to that second floor windah where Jaspah stood.
“Jaspah,” said Sheriff Robbins, “you’d bettah get in. The weathah report says that ice jam won’t break for a while.”
Jaspah just nodded his head. “No. I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Lattah that night, when Jaspah was on the roof of the house, he could hear the thud, thud, thud sound a helicoptah makes. Soon, a bright light was a shining down on ‘em. He heard a loud speakah shoutin’ at him. A voice said to grab the rope being dropped. He grabbed the rope, threw it off in the watah below, then waved off the crew membah who was hangin’ out the side of the choppah.
He smiled as the thud, thud, thud sound retreated. He knew he would be just fine. (Slight pause.)
Saint Peteah expressed some surprise when Jaspah presented himself there at pearly gates. “Jumpin’ Jehasaphat, Jaspah! We were not expectin’ ya’ this soon,” said the disciple. (Yes. Peter does speak with a Downeast accent. After all, just like a lot of folks who live Downeast, the Saint did make a living catchin’ fish.)
“Well,” said Jaspah, “I don’t know what happened. The flood watahs kept a commin’ and a commin’ and a commin’ and the next thing ya know I be here. I don’t know why. Aftah all, I prayed and God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made. Everything will be just fine.”
Petah did not seem amused. “Jaspah,” the Saint said. “What do you think the row boat, the motah boat and the helicoptah were about? God sent ‘em. What were you expectin’? Archangels are way too busy to be hangin’ out a waitin’ hand and foot on you. They don’t go zoomin’ in just when you need them, ya know.” (Slight pause. The pastor drops the Downeast accent.)
And these words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” (Slight pause.)
As prophecy goes, most scholars think Malachi comes late in the game of prophecy. This work is probably written after the Babylonian Exile, sometime in the Sixth Century Before the Common Era. Hence the prophet speaks to a Jerusalem very much still being reconstructed and reconstituted after the exile.
The message of the Prophet is not a new one for the Jewish people. It is the message of the covenant— the covenant of God with the people of God. This was the message delivered by Moses, the same message delivered by Isaiah, the same message delivered by Jeremiah.
The message? God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives.
Indeed, the reason Malachi preached and the problem of the Jewish people in that time and our problem today is a little like the one Jasper had. We need to recognize the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives.
Please do not mis-understand me. I don’t, for a minute, think the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives is easy to recognize.
Also a little like our friend Jasper, it can be easier for those around us to recognize the work of God, the hand of God and the action of God than it is for us to see. And just like Jasper, even when we prayerfully consider the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God, we can miss it.
That is where the community of faith which surrounds us can help. We need to listen to those around us. Sometimes— not all the time but sometimes— community of faith who surrounds us can act as messengers of God.
You see, the name Malachi means messenger. So, when I say that most scholars think Malachi comes late to the game of prophecy, I mean that quite literally. Malachi— this messenger— is only repeating what prophets of God have said all along.
Hence, perhaps the real question for the people who were contemporaries of Malachi and the real question for us is simple. Are we listening? (Slight pause.)
So, what does the message of the covenant have to do with Advent and Christmas? Frankly, I sometimes wonder if we are listening. The message of Christmas is repeated year after year after year. Christmas is about the in-breaking of God into our world and into our lives.
The message is this simple: God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives. In short, Christmas is about the covenant. It is about the covenant being fulfilled because it is embodied by Jesus, who is the Christ. Amen.
12/09/2012
United Church of Christ, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “We, humanity, are always acquiring new knowledge. And that is wonderful. But the older I get the more worried I am about what we seem to forget. Mathematicians knew the earth was round and had calculated the circumference of it within a 25 mile error 300 years before the birth of the Christ. It took about 1,800 years for that information to be rediscovered. The Ancient Egyptians knew how to make clear glass. That art was lost for about 1,100 years. I could go on an on about things the ancients knew and society forgot, but suffice it to say, my biggest concern is we, humanity forget things. If we remember nothing else about Christmas, we need to remember this: the Advent of the Christ is about the fulfillment of the covenant.”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Let us go in peace for God is with us. Let us go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Let us go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Let us go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that the love of God is steadfast. Amen.
The Prophecy Is Telegraphed
These words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” — Malachi 3:1.
There is a story often told in the State of Maine which tries to illustrate how much God cares about us and how often we miss that reality. I’m quite sure this story is told outside of the State of Maine but, as a proud graduate of Bangor Theological Seminary, I want to offer the Maine version. In the case of the Maine rendition, the story is told about a fellow named Jasper Beal.
(For this story, the pastor breaks out a Maine accent. The text reflects this.) There was a farmah by the name of Jaspah Beal who had a small fahm right on the Androscoggin Rivah, pretty near Lisbon Falls, only about five miles from Durham— Durham, where that fellah Stephen King grew up. And yes, you are right. King went to Lisbon Falls High School. Hearhd tell, he’s made quite a name for himself.
Well, despite being a small fahm, the acreage next to the Androscoggin was fertile, so growing things proved to be a prosperous enterprise. This particular piece of land was situated well to the north of where the tidewatah reaches the rivah. Tidewatah, that’s the place where the rivah is close to the ocean— so close it becomes way too salty to be of any help to agricultural. People do try to fahm some down rivah, down by the tidewatah. But it be hardah down there.
Now, Spring— Spring can be a dangerous season in Maine, especially upstream. When the weathah stahts to get just a tad warmah, it becomes a bad ideah to walk across the rivah like everyone does all wintah, seeing as how the ice starts a movin’. Seems like a paradox, but ice flows— rivah ice— it moves. And movin’ ice can jam things up quite a bit. Indeed, one time enough ice wedged itself in the narrah stretch right by the falls, just below Jaspah’s fahm so that the watah backed up a nasty amount.
One afternoon Beal noticed watah from the rivah in places where he’d nevah seen it before. It was a creepin’ ovah the field where he’d be soon puttin’ in some Potatahs. He was not too worried about it. Potatahs usually don’t get planted till April, sometimes lattah in this neck of the woods. And he figuahed the watah would be back to its nahmal course by then. (Slight pause.)
When Jaspah got up the next mornin’, the watah was lapping ovah his front porch. As Jaspah stood inside the doh-or wrapped up wahm in his L. L. Bean coat, looking out at the watah, the local police chief, Larry Thibodaux, come along in a boat and rowed right up to him. “Jaspah— you’d bettah get in,” said the chief. “The watah’s goin’ to keep commin’ up for a while.”
“No,” said Jaspah. “I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Well, that afternoon, Jaspah was lookin’ out the front windah of the second floor, the watah having pretty much made the first floor not liveable exceptin’ if you were a trout. That’s when the Androscoggin Country Sheriff, one Harold Robbins, came along in a motah boat and pulled up to that second floor windah where Jaspah stood.
“Jaspah,” said Sheriff Robbins, “you’d bettah get in. The weathah report says that ice jam won’t break for a while.”
Jaspah just nodded his head. “No. I’ve prayed about this. God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made and everything will be just fine.” (Slight pause.)
Lattah that night, when Jaspah was on the roof of the house, he could hear the thud, thud, thud sound a helicoptah makes. Soon, a bright light was a shining down on ‘em. He heard a loud speakah shoutin’ at him. A voice said to grab the rope being dropped. He grabbed the rope, threw it off in the watah below, then waved off the crew membah who was hangin’ out the side of the choppah.
He smiled as the thud, thud, thud sound retreated. He knew he would be just fine. (Slight pause.)
Saint Peteah expressed some surprise when Jaspah presented himself there at pearly gates. “Jumpin’ Jehasaphat, Jaspah! We were not expectin’ ya’ this soon,” said the disciple. (Yes. Peter does speak with a Downeast accent. After all, just like a lot of folks who live Downeast, the Saint did make a living catchin’ fish.)
“Well,” said Jaspah, “I don’t know what happened. The flood watahs kept a commin’ and a commin’ and a commin’ and the next thing ya know I be here. I don’t know why. Aftah all, I prayed and God sent me a clear message. Provision will be made. Everything will be just fine.”
Petah did not seem amused. “Jaspah,” the Saint said. “What do you think the row boat, the motah boat and the helicoptah were about? God sent ‘em. What were you expectin’? Archangels are way too busy to be hangin’ out a waitin’ hand and foot on you. They don’t go zoomin’ in just when you need them, ya know.” (Slight pause. The pastor drops the Downeast accent.)
And these words are found in the Tanakh in the Section known as the Prophets in the Scroll of the Twelve: “See, I am sending my Messenger to prepare the way for me; the One whom you long for will suddenly come to the temple. The Messenger of the covenant in whom you delight will come— indeed, this One is coming, says Yahweh, God of hosts,....” (Slight pause.)
As prophecy goes, most scholars think Malachi comes late in the game of prophecy. This work is probably written after the Babylonian Exile, sometime in the Sixth Century Before the Common Era. Hence the prophet speaks to a Jerusalem very much still being reconstructed and reconstituted after the exile.
The message of the Prophet is not a new one for the Jewish people. It is the message of the covenant— the covenant of God with the people of God. This was the message delivered by Moses, the same message delivered by Isaiah, the same message delivered by Jeremiah.
The message? God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives.
Indeed, the reason Malachi preached and the problem of the Jewish people in that time and our problem today is a little like the one Jasper had. We need to recognize the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives.
Please do not mis-understand me. I don’t, for a minute, think the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God in our lives is easy to recognize.
Also a little like our friend Jasper, it can be easier for those around us to recognize the work of God, the hand of God and the action of God than it is for us to see. And just like Jasper, even when we prayerfully consider the work of God, the hand of God, the action of God, we can miss it.
That is where the community of faith which surrounds us can help. We need to listen to those around us. Sometimes— not all the time but sometimes— community of faith who surrounds us can act as messengers of God.
You see, the name Malachi means messenger. So, when I say that most scholars think Malachi comes late to the game of prophecy, I mean that quite literally. Malachi— this messenger— is only repeating what prophets of God have said all along.
Hence, perhaps the real question for the people who were contemporaries of Malachi and the real question for us is simple. Are we listening? (Slight pause.)
So, what does the message of the covenant have to do with Advent and Christmas? Frankly, I sometimes wonder if we are listening. The message of Christmas is repeated year after year after year. Christmas is about the in-breaking of God into our world and into our lives.
The message is this simple: God is. God is with us at all times and in all circumstances. The covenant God makes with humanity is real. And we are to do our best in our time to live out the covenant in our lives. In short, Christmas is about the covenant. It is about the covenant being fulfilled because it is embodied by Jesus, who is the Christ. Amen.
12/09/2012
United Church of Christ, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “We, humanity, are always acquiring new knowledge. And that is wonderful. But the older I get the more worried I am about what we seem to forget. Mathematicians knew the earth was round and had calculated the circumference of it within a 25 mile error 300 years before the birth of the Christ. It took about 1,800 years for that information to be rediscovered. The Ancient Egyptians knew how to make clear glass. That art was lost for about 1,100 years. I could go on an on about things the ancients knew and society forgot, but suffice it to say, my biggest concern is we, humanity forget things. If we remember nothing else about Christmas, we need to remember this: the Advent of the Christ is about the fulfillment of the covenant.”
BENEDICTION: Let us be present to one another as we go from this place. Let us share our gifts, our hopes, our memories, our pain and our joy. Let us go in peace for God is with us. Let us go in joy for God knows every fiber of our being. Let us go in hope for God reveals to us, daily, that we are a part of God’s new creation. Let us go in love, for we rest assured, by Christ, Jesus, that the love of God is steadfast. Amen.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
12/02/2012 ~ Sermon ~ The Promise
12/02/2012 ~ First Sunday of Advent ~ Hope ~ Jeremiah 33:14-16; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13; Luke 21:25-36 ~ The First Sunday in Year ‘C’ on the Three Year Cycle of Lectionary Readings on the Church Calendar ~ The Sunday on Which the Christian Virtue of Hope Is Celebrated ~ Communion Sunday.
The Promise
“The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” — Jeremiah 33:14
I have mentioned my late Uncle, my Father’s brother Edward, on a couple of occasions. He was, in many ways, a consummate native of New York City, a New Yorker to his very bones. Unlike some natives of the city, he did drive. On the other hand, he never traveled too far.
For those of you who have seen the musical Guys and Dolls, I am fond of saying he was the last of the real, in the flesh, Damon Runyon characters. Guys and Dolls could have been easily written about him.
For those of you who don’t know a thing about Guys and Dolls or Damon Runyon, suffice it to say he was the kind of guy who maintained a credit line with his own personal bookie and would place a bet on anything. He was known to gamble on horse races, on football games, on baseball games— how long a pigeon would stay on the ground eating bread crumbs Ed had dropped before taking flight.
And Uncle Ed, true to the idea of not traveling very far from mid-town Manhattan, was fond of saying if you lived in New York City you did not have to travel anywhere. Everything would eventually come to you. He also said if you just stood at the so called the crossroads of the world, Times Square, for twenty-four hours, you were as likely as not to see everything— or at least see everything you ever needed to see.
I was reminded of him saying that this week because I stumbled across proof of the premise that you can see anything in New York City. I read an article in the New York Times about camels walking down West Fifty-first Street in the city, just a little way from Times Square. So, how amazing is it that you can see camels in New York City— on West Fifty-first Street? Strange, right? (Slight pause.)
Now, I know this is very New York City of me, but those of you who have never been to the Christmas Show at Radio City Music Hall, you must go see it. The show is at one in the same time, awful and magnificent, breath taking and tasteless. It often contains every last bad popular Christmas song you can think of. Then, ending on a note of sincerity, it presents a breathtaking nativity tableau with live actors and live animals.
And that’s where the camels walking down West Fifty-first Street come it. It turns out the camels in the show need to be walked every morning.
When I read the article, I was pleased to find out the animals— a sheep, a donkey and the camels— are from a Sanctuary for Animals. Not only that, but the sheep, the donkey and the camels earn enough money with this gig that they, thereby, support the many other creatures who live at the Sanctuary for whole the year. [1]
All of that, of course, comes back to the thesis my Uncle maintained: you can see anything in New York City, even camels walking down the street near Times Square. Based on this premise, you’d have to say it’s not just the place to be. It’s the center of the universe. And that’s what Ed really thought: New York City is the center of the universe.
But please don’t take that idea literally. In fact, I don’t for a second believe when Ed said New York is the center of the universe he was thinking about a place. He was thinking about himself. You see, if you can maintain a fantasy which says you live at the center of the universe, you can maintain a fantasy which says you, yourself, are at least a part of the center of the universe. (Slight pause.)
And these words come to us from the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah: “The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” (Slight pause.)
Yes, I too am a native of New York City. And yes, I do have a certain passion for it. But no, I do not believe it is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe Jerusalem is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe London or Moscow or Tokyo or Addis Ababa or even Norwich, New York, is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe I am the center of the universe.
But it does seem to me we all tend to ask the question and even like to ask the question about the location of the center of the universe, perhaps in the hope it might be nearby. But I think we mislead ourselves when we put the center of the universe in a location. The center of the universe, after all, is not about ‘where.’ (Slight pause.)
In this passage the prophet Jeremiah says Yahweh, GOD, will bestow all the blessings promised. So, what blessings are these? What blessing are these? And how do they work themselves out? Are they located in a place? (Slight pause.)
If you didn’t notice it already, we have entered the season of Advent. Advent is celebrated to move both individuals and the church out of the season just completed, Pentecost, Ordinary Time. How? Advent refreshes the proclamation of good news and claims the grace of God is impending. This grace insists God is about to present fresh possibilities for wholeness— fresh possibilities for wholeness.
Advent can do this because it has two faces, two orientations. It looks first to the past and offers a recapitulation of the longing with which people of faith live in a bygone era, an era which anticipated the coming of the Messiah. And Advent also looks to the future with an attitude of expectancy— expectancy concerning what God has yet to do in the life of humankind.
That brings me back to the promises of God. I think a promise of God is to walk with us all of our days. It is a part of the covenant God makes with all humankind. And Jesus is the symbol, the sign yes, the embodiment of that covenant. Jesus is the fulfillment of that covenant.
You see, I think that idea— the idea that God walks with us— is a part of the promise to which Jeremiah refers. And certainly one of the blessings of God is the journey we take called life.
The journey is not always easy. Life is not always easy. Only a fool or the truly naïve would say life is always easy.
But the covenant insists God is at our side throughout the journey even when life is not easy. And that— that is where location really comes in: God is at our side.
Which brings me back to Uncle Ed. In one sense, he was right: life can be and most of the time is a gamble. It can be treacherous, even frightening. In another sense, he was wrong. The center of the universe is not located in a place. The center of the universe is not located with us.
The center of the universe is with God. And God walks with us. (Slight pause.)
A friend of mine posted this quote by the Austrian poet Rainer Rilke on Facebook this week. (Quote:) “Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart…. Try to love the questions themselves…. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them— and the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers.” (Slight pause.)
What is the hope we address in Advent? I think the message of hope in Advent, the message of the Prophet is this: God lives. God loves. God walks with us. Amen.
12/02/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I saw something else on Facebook this week. (The pastor holds up a sign which says this: ‘Be the “IS” in Christmas.’) Be the ‘IS ’ in Christmas. As Christians, we live in hope. Hope is an active word. Hope is constant, real, alive. Hope— an ‘IS’ word.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace, for our hope is in the one who has made covenant with us. God reigns. Let us go in God’s peace. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times ~ 11/29/2012 ~ A Closely Guarded Secret: When the Camels Go for a Walk By Jim Dwyer
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/30/nyregion/christmas-show-camels-walk-time-a-closely-guarded-secret.html
The Promise
“The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” — Jeremiah 33:14
I have mentioned my late Uncle, my Father’s brother Edward, on a couple of occasions. He was, in many ways, a consummate native of New York City, a New Yorker to his very bones. Unlike some natives of the city, he did drive. On the other hand, he never traveled too far.
For those of you who have seen the musical Guys and Dolls, I am fond of saying he was the last of the real, in the flesh, Damon Runyon characters. Guys and Dolls could have been easily written about him.
For those of you who don’t know a thing about Guys and Dolls or Damon Runyon, suffice it to say he was the kind of guy who maintained a credit line with his own personal bookie and would place a bet on anything. He was known to gamble on horse races, on football games, on baseball games— how long a pigeon would stay on the ground eating bread crumbs Ed had dropped before taking flight.
And Uncle Ed, true to the idea of not traveling very far from mid-town Manhattan, was fond of saying if you lived in New York City you did not have to travel anywhere. Everything would eventually come to you. He also said if you just stood at the so called the crossroads of the world, Times Square, for twenty-four hours, you were as likely as not to see everything— or at least see everything you ever needed to see.
I was reminded of him saying that this week because I stumbled across proof of the premise that you can see anything in New York City. I read an article in the New York Times about camels walking down West Fifty-first Street in the city, just a little way from Times Square. So, how amazing is it that you can see camels in New York City— on West Fifty-first Street? Strange, right? (Slight pause.)
Now, I know this is very New York City of me, but those of you who have never been to the Christmas Show at Radio City Music Hall, you must go see it. The show is at one in the same time, awful and magnificent, breath taking and tasteless. It often contains every last bad popular Christmas song you can think of. Then, ending on a note of sincerity, it presents a breathtaking nativity tableau with live actors and live animals.
And that’s where the camels walking down West Fifty-first Street come it. It turns out the camels in the show need to be walked every morning.
When I read the article, I was pleased to find out the animals— a sheep, a donkey and the camels— are from a Sanctuary for Animals. Not only that, but the sheep, the donkey and the camels earn enough money with this gig that they, thereby, support the many other creatures who live at the Sanctuary for whole the year. [1]
All of that, of course, comes back to the thesis my Uncle maintained: you can see anything in New York City, even camels walking down the street near Times Square. Based on this premise, you’d have to say it’s not just the place to be. It’s the center of the universe. And that’s what Ed really thought: New York City is the center of the universe.
But please don’t take that idea literally. In fact, I don’t for a second believe when Ed said New York is the center of the universe he was thinking about a place. He was thinking about himself. You see, if you can maintain a fantasy which says you live at the center of the universe, you can maintain a fantasy which says you, yourself, are at least a part of the center of the universe. (Slight pause.)
And these words come to us from the Scroll of the Prophet Jeremiah: “The days are surely coming, says Yahweh, God, when I will bestow on the house of Israel and the house of Judah all the blessings I promised.” (Slight pause.)
Yes, I too am a native of New York City. And yes, I do have a certain passion for it. But no, I do not believe it is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe Jerusalem is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe London or Moscow or Tokyo or Addis Ababa or even Norwich, New York, is the center of the universe. Nor do I believe I am the center of the universe.
But it does seem to me we all tend to ask the question and even like to ask the question about the location of the center of the universe, perhaps in the hope it might be nearby. But I think we mislead ourselves when we put the center of the universe in a location. The center of the universe, after all, is not about ‘where.’ (Slight pause.)
In this passage the prophet Jeremiah says Yahweh, GOD, will bestow all the blessings promised. So, what blessings are these? What blessing are these? And how do they work themselves out? Are they located in a place? (Slight pause.)
If you didn’t notice it already, we have entered the season of Advent. Advent is celebrated to move both individuals and the church out of the season just completed, Pentecost, Ordinary Time. How? Advent refreshes the proclamation of good news and claims the grace of God is impending. This grace insists God is about to present fresh possibilities for wholeness— fresh possibilities for wholeness.
Advent can do this because it has two faces, two orientations. It looks first to the past and offers a recapitulation of the longing with which people of faith live in a bygone era, an era which anticipated the coming of the Messiah. And Advent also looks to the future with an attitude of expectancy— expectancy concerning what God has yet to do in the life of humankind.
That brings me back to the promises of God. I think a promise of God is to walk with us all of our days. It is a part of the covenant God makes with all humankind. And Jesus is the symbol, the sign yes, the embodiment of that covenant. Jesus is the fulfillment of that covenant.
You see, I think that idea— the idea that God walks with us— is a part of the promise to which Jeremiah refers. And certainly one of the blessings of God is the journey we take called life.
The journey is not always easy. Life is not always easy. Only a fool or the truly naïve would say life is always easy.
But the covenant insists God is at our side throughout the journey even when life is not easy. And that— that is where location really comes in: God is at our side.
Which brings me back to Uncle Ed. In one sense, he was right: life can be and most of the time is a gamble. It can be treacherous, even frightening. In another sense, he was wrong. The center of the universe is not located in a place. The center of the universe is not located with us.
The center of the universe is with God. And God walks with us. (Slight pause.)
A friend of mine posted this quote by the Austrian poet Rainer Rilke on Facebook this week. (Quote:) “Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart…. Try to love the questions themselves…. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them— and the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers.” (Slight pause.)
What is the hope we address in Advent? I think the message of hope in Advent, the message of the Prophet is this: God lives. God loves. God walks with us. Amen.
12/02/2012
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “I saw something else on Facebook this week. (The pastor holds up a sign which says this: ‘Be the “IS” in Christmas.’) Be the ‘IS ’ in Christmas. As Christians, we live in hope. Hope is an active word. Hope is constant, real, alive. Hope— an ‘IS’ word.”
BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace, for our hope is in the one who has made covenant with us. God reigns. Let us go in God’s peace. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times ~ 11/29/2012 ~ A Closely Guarded Secret: When the Camels Go for a Walk By Jim Dwyer
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/30/nyregion/christmas-show-camels-walk-time-a-closely-guarded-secret.html
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