The Light that Blinds: Why the Experts Missed the Miracle in John 9

 In the Gospel of John, sight is never just about optics; it is about orientation. The narrative of the man born blind presents what scholars call the "Johannine Paradox"—the startling reality that physical vision can function as a veil, while physical darkness can become a doorway to the Truth.

As Jesus encounters the man in Jerusalem, he is not merely performing a medical miracle. He is navigating a minefield of traditional theology, social exclusion, and religious expertise. In this story, the categories of "blind" and "sighted" are completely inverted, challenging us to consider whether our own certainty is the very thing preventing us from seeing the work of God.

Deconstructing the Scorecard of Suffering

The narrative opens with a question that betrays a rigid, merit-based theology. Seeing the man, the disciples ask, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” This reflects a common ancient assumption—one that persists today—that suffering is a direct dividend of iniquity. It treats the human condition as a scorecard of divine retribution.

Jesus fundamentally deconstructs this logic. He shifts the framework from "cause" to "purpose," moving from a theology of punishment to a theology of revelation. By asserting that the man’s condition is an opportunity for God’s works to be displayed, Jesus offers a liberating concept: suffering is not a mark of shame, but a canvas for grace.

"Jesus answered, 'Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.'" (John 9:3)

The Paradox of the "Sighted" Expert

One of the sharpest ironies in the text is the "blindness" of the religious authorities. The Pharisees are the established experts, yet their rigid expertise becomes a theological cage. Because Jesus "kneaded" mud—a technical violation of Sabbath work prohibitions—the experts are logically forced to conclude that Jesus is a "sinner" and therefore cannot be from God.

This blindness is compounded by ancient physiological beliefs. At the time, many believed the eyes were windows through which internal light radiated outward. In the Pharisees' view, the blind man was full of internal darkness. Yet, Jesus reveals the opposite: the experts are the ones whose "sin remains" because they claim "We see." Their willful certainty creates a spiritual cataract; they are so sure of how God must act that they cannot see how God is acting.

The Social Cost of Aposynagogos

To understand the tension of this narrative, we must recognize the specific Greek term aposynagogos. Appearing only in the Gospel of John, this word describes the terrifying reality of being "put out of the synagogue." For the early Johannine community and the characters in the text, this wasn't just a religious snub; it was a total social death, a severance from familial and communal support systems.

We see the realism of this fear in the man’s parents. When interrogated, they point to their son, saying, "He is of age," desperately trying to avoid the authorities' wrath. This "historical anxiety" highlights the man’s courage. While his parents shrink in the face of political and social pressure, the man refuses to reduce his experience to what is acceptable to the establishment. He chooses the truth over the safety of the synagogue.

When the Beggar Becomes the Teacher

In a brilliant theological reversal, the marginalized beggar becomes the logic professor for the religious elite. When the authorities demand he "give glory to God" by denouncing Jesus—an ironic request, as the healing has already glorified God—the man responds with a devastatingly simple conclusion.

He argues from a shared premise: "We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him." Since Jesus has performed an unprecedented miracle, the logic is inescapable: Jesus must be from God. Frustrated by a beggar they cannot refute, the authorities resort to loidoreo—a unique Greek term in the Gospels meaning to "revile" or deeply insult. They choose to expel the witness rather than engage the evidence, or to "see" themselves.

"He answered, 'I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.'" (John 9:25)

Sight as a Journey of Relationship

True sight, in the Johannine sense, is not a momentary physical event but a progressive journey of relationship. This is mirrored in the setting: Jesus sends the man to the pool of Siloam (meaning "Sent"). This pool provided the water for temple libations during Sukkoth, the Festival of Tabernacles. By sending the man there, Jesus suggests that He, not the temple rites, is the true source of "Living Water" and the "Light of the World."

The man’s understanding of Jesus matures in stages: from "the man called Jesus," to "a prophet," and finally to a confession of faith in the "Son of Man." Interestingly, some ancient textual variants read "Son of God" in verse 35, highlighting the early church's struggle to name the magnitude of this revelation. In the end, sight is defined as an "Invitation to Abundant Life"—the capacity to recognize and worship the Light that has entered the world.

Living in the Light

The story of John 9 concludes with a radical vision of the Kingdom. It is a kingdom that moves toward the outcast, offering a space where the marginalized can tell their own truth clearly. It upends the boundaries of inclusion, showing that those driven out by the religious establishment are often the very ones Jesus seeks out to find.

"Kingdom Vision" asks us to see our neighbors not through the labels of "sinner" or "beggar," but as members of one family. As we move through our own communities, we must confront the same question the Pharisees faced: What "willful blindness" is preventing us from seeing the work of God today? Are we so convinced of our own "sight" that we are missing the miracles happening right in front of us?

From Generation to Generation: We Keep Seeking

Today, we formally move into the Gospel of Matthew, where we will spend the remainder of the spring. Matthew is one of three synoptic gospels. (Know what the other two are?) The word synoptic comes from the Greek, which means “to see together.” The three synoptic Gospels do seem to tell the story of Jesus from the same basic perspective, especially when we compare them to John’s Gospel. In the Synoptics, Jesus tells parables. In John, he does not. In the Synoptics, the cleansing of the temple happens near the end of Jesus’ story and precipitates Jesus’ arrest. In John, this story is near the beginning of his ministry. The list of contrasts could continue, but the point is that the synoptics share common language and stories and their placement across large stretches of text. 

Nevertheless, there are differences between the synoptic Gospels. Each of them presents different and distinct pictures of Jesus to different and distinct audiences. It is important for us to understand each of these gospels on their own unique terms. Because, when we do, they present a richer and much more complex picture of God coming to us in Jesus.

The Gospel of Matthew revolves around the five major speeches of Jesus. It reveals the character of Jesus by what he says. In this gospel, written to a Jewish audience, Jesus is depicted as the new Moses who has come, not to destroy the law, but to fulfill it. The structure of Matthew is intended to reflect the books of Moses. The five major discourses of Jesus correspond to the five books of Moses. Through them, Jesus is depicted as the new Moses who has come to complete Israel’s story of redemption. Through many quotes from the Hebrew scriptures - the Old Testament - the writer of this gospel seeks to tie Jesus’ story to Israel’s story. 

We should not think of Matthew as only a “Jewish Gospel.” In today's story, the place of non-Jews in the  history of salvation is present from the beginning of the gospel to the very end.

But, enough theology! Our Gospel reading today is from the second chapter of Matthew and includes a portion that we often choose not to read for reasons that will become evident. 

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the territory of Judea during the rule of King Herod, magi came from the east to Jerusalem. They asked, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We’ve seen his star in the east, and we’ve come to honor him.”

When King Herod heard this, he was troubled, and everyone in Jerusalem was troubled with him. He gathered all the chief priests and the legal experts and asked them where the Christ was to be born. They said, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for this is what the prophet wrote:

You, Bethlehem, land of Judah,

        by no means are you least among the rulers of Judah,

            because from you will come one who governs,

            who will shepherd my people Israel.”

Then Herod secretly called for the magi and found out from them the time when the star had first appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search carefully for the child. When you’ve found him, report to me so that I too may go and honor him.” When they heard the king, they went; and look, the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stood over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were filled with joy. They entered the house and saw the child with Mary his mother. Falling to their knees, they honored him. Then they opened their treasure chests and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Because they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they went back to their own country by another route.

When the magi had departed, an angel from the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up. Take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod will soon search for the child in order to kill him.” Joseph got up and, during the night, took the child and his mother to Egypt. He stayed there until Herod died. This fulfilled what the Lord had spoken through the prophet: I have called my son out of Egypt.

When Herod knew the magi had fooled him, he grew very angry. He sent soldiers to kill all the children in Bethlehem and in all the surrounding territory who were two years old and younger, according to the time that he had learned from the magi. This fulfilled the word spoken through Jeremiah the prophet:

A voice was heard in Ramah,

    weeping and much grieving.

        Rachel weeping for her children,

            and she did not want to be comforted,

                because they were no more.

After King Herod died, an angel from the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt. “Get up,” the angel said, “and take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel. Those who were trying to kill the child are dead.” Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus ruled over Judea in place of his father Herod, Joseph was afraid to go there. Having been warned in a dream, he went to the area of Galilee. He settled in a city called Nazareth so that what was spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled: He will be called a Nazarene. --Matthew 2:1-23 (CEB)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Creator and from our Lord and Savior, God-with-us, Jesus Christ. Amen.

As we begin this new year, I’m curious. Did you make New Year’s resolutions? Or, alternatively, intentions for the new year - which is the current trend - to move away from goal-setting to identifying intentions for how we want to be or to feel or to live in the new year? Did you? (I’ll admit that I have set several intentions for this year.)

Another question? In setting resolutions or intentions, did you consult your astrological forecast for the year? How do your planets align? Did you know that Mercury is currently in retrograde? For those of you who are not up on your astrology, Mercury is the planet that rules communication in all forms--listening, writing, reading and so on--as well as activities related to communication, like negotiations and contracts. A few times a year, the planet Mercury appears to reverse direction - to go retrograde. And although this is an illusion caused by the position of Earth in relation to Mercury - it only looks like the planet is moving backward - that when it “reverses” course, astrologers tell us that this time that Mercury is retrograde is often a time associated with confusion, with delay, and with frustration. Mercury has been in retrograde since December 28th and will continue to be in “reverse” motion through January 18th.

Hmmm. It makes one wonder if this - and other astrological signs and wonders - are true. In our world of science and rational thought, there are many reasons to dismiss this practice. Justifiably so. But, for the magi in today’s story, Gentile astrologers from Persia or Babylon, following the planets and using the stars for guidance like sailors of old was not unusual. In fact, the stars, and one star in particular, were symbols of direction and knowledge for the magi - a manifestation of God’s guidance, providing light for the way. A sign of hope and vision for humanity. Leading them to the small village of Bethlehem of Judea, which becomes for them the center of human aspirations and dreams. 

We have added so much to this story over the generations. Giving the magi names: Melchior, Gaspar, and Balthazar. Spiritualizing the gifts they brought - gold, a symbol of royalty; frankincense, a symbol of the divine; and myrrh, an ointment used to embalm, a symbol of death. 

Yet, we really know little about the magi. Were there three of them? We don’t know. Were they all men? We don’t know. Were they astrologers? Perhaps, based on how the word magi is used in other parts of scripture and in other texts from this time. What we do know about them is that they were seekers. Ones coming from a far away land, Gentiles. Moving beyond reason to intuition. Beyond science to faith. Trusting the journey even though they did not know where they were going. Trusting a wisdom beyond their own to take them where they needed to go. Yet, their wisdom was a wondering, wandering kind of wisdom that would bring them to a place of awe and wonder and worship. Offering homage to the wider and more wonderful Wisdom of God. 

But this traditional story that is so lovely and wondrous - told from generation to generation on this Epiphany Sunday - is only part of the story. The full story is so much more complex - as complex as the symbolic aspects we give to the three gifts of the magi, including that of myrrh, which, again, symbolizes death.

Because shortly after the magi leave to return to their distant land, death prevails. The empires of this world - reflected in Herod, himself titled “king of the Jews” - will not give up power or their way of being so easily. Scripture tells us that both Herod and the people of Jerusalem were “troubled.” This is the same word to describe how Mary felt when the Angel Gabriel first appeared to her to tell her of her participation in the divine plan. Consider her response to this news. And then compare it to Herod’s. Threatened by the news of a child born who is the long-awaited and true “king of the Jews,” his response is to order the slaughter of children under the age of 2. Babies. Killed in order to hold onto his power. And that of the empire.

We’ve seen this conflict of dominions before. This fight between good and evil. God and Satan. As readers of Genesis and Exodus, it is impossible for us to dismiss the parallels and the connection to the story of Moses and Israel’s exodus where the dominion of the Pharaoh collides with the dominion of God. That results in costly plagues for Egypt and a dramatic exodus for Israel in a way that shows God’s steadfast love - God’s hesed - for Israel.

Yet, God’s steadfast love, God’s desire and ability to rescue Israel, does not mean God keeps Israel completely out of danger and away from the risk of death. Israel was constantly jeopardized by the destructive and oppressive policies of the Pharaoh. Just as Joseph and Mary and the young Jesus were jeopardized by the destructive actions of Herod. 

And, while we may think things have changed, they have not. In so many ways, our human situation has changed very little from Pharaoh to Herod to us. Matthew’s Gospel calls us to discern God’s will in the midst of currently conflicting powers and dominions. To find our way through. To seek God in the midst of the darkness. To be witness to and people of the light. Whatever the cost. However foreign it may feel. As we, like the gentle and Gentile magi follow a star to Bethlehem to find and worship the true king. Trusting in faith that, even through the times fraught with danger and trouble, God will lead us through.

This is the revelation of scripture. The revelation of God. That God continues to break into our world. To intervene in a way that does not erase the danger, the risks, or the death inherent in life as we know it. But that reveals God’s presence and activity even in the midst of the darkness. God’s dominion will clash with and triumph over Herod’s, whose days will be numbered.

May we continue to seek God even in the midst of our darkest hours. And may we live deeply into our faith, trusting that God will abide with us and lead us, like the magi, to such a place of wonder and awe that our only response will be to fall to our knees. And worship Jesus. King of the Jews. Promised One. God-with-us. Always. Amen.

Preached January 8, 2023, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.

Epiphany Sunday

Reading: Matthew 2:1-23

Invitation to Abundant Life: Living in Light

Today and next week, we read two stories back to back that are a study in contrasts. 

Today, we hear about Nicodemus. A man. A Pharisee. A Jewish religious leader. Who comes to meet Jesus at night. Next week, you’ll hear the story of a woman. A Samaritan and an outsider. Who is unnamed. Who meets Jesus at noon - the brightest time of day. The conversation with Nicodemus in this week’s text will last for nine verses. The conversation with the unnamed woman next week will last for twenty-six verses.

But, today, our focus is the first person in this study in contrasts. Nicodemus. We begin today’s reading with the last two verses of last week’s text at the end of chapter 2. In the Greek these verses are much more closely connected to the beginning of the next chapter than they appear in English. They also foreshadow what we will hear today in this story about Nicodemus. So, we begin by reading these transitional verses and continue into chapter 3. We’re reading today in two parts.

While Jesus was in Jerusalem for the Passover Festival, many believed in his name because they saw the miraculous signs that he did. But Jesus didn’t trust himself to them because he knew all people. He didn’t need anyone to tell him about human nature, for he knew what human nature was.

There was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a Jewish leader. He came to Jesus at night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one could do these miraculous signs that you do unless God is with him.”

Jesus answered, “I assure you, unless someone is born anew, it’s not possible to see God’s kingdom.”

Nicodemus asked, “How is it possible for an adult to be born? It’s impossible to enter the mother’s womb for a second time and be born, isn’t it?”

Jesus answered, “I assure you, unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, it’s not possible to enter God’s kingdom. Whatever is born of the flesh is flesh, and whatever is born of the Spirit is spirit. Don’t be surprised that I said to you, ‘You must be born anew.’ God’s Spirit blows wherever it wishes. You hear its sound, but you don’t know where it comes from or where it is going. It’s the same with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Nicodemus said, “How are these things possible?”

“Jesus answered, “You are a teacher of Israel and you don’t know these things? I assure you that we speak about what we know and testify about what we have seen, but you don’t receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you don’t believe, how will you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? --John 2:23 - John 12 (CEB)

This play of light and darkness, of night and day, is a frequent theme in John. 

Remember the Prologue - “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Nicodemus comes in the dark. To come in the dark suggests, in John, one who comes in a state of unbelief. To come in the dark suggests that one neither understands, nor fully believes in who Jesus is.

There’s this back and forth dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus, who appears to be speaking on behalf of a group, perhaps the rest of the Pharisees. Perhaps the Jewish leaders. It’s not clear in our text. But, he’s come to find out more about Jesus. He asks honest questions. He’s seen the signs. So, he recognizes that this Jesus is one from God. But he misses that this Jesus is God.

Jesus doesn’t really help him out here. Nicodemus takes Jesus literally, when he says that he must be born anew. What? Are you saying I have to be put back in my mother’s womb again? This word in Greek actually has two simultaneous meanings. Born anew - referencing a physical change. And born from above - representing a spiritual change. Nicodemus doesn’t really get it. And Jesus doesn’t really help him out. Our minds immediately go to baptism. But, Nicodemus doesn’t have that connection. He won’t get it. Finishing the conversation with these words, “How is possible?”

It’s at this point that Jesus seems to turn from Nicodemus and address an audience. The pronoun you moves from the singular to the plural. Perhaps his words are for all of the Jewish leaders. Perhaps, his words are for all those who only believe in the signs, who lack a level of faith that leads to a complete change - a rebirth into a new community. And an entirely new way of life. 

Our story continues in verse 13.

No one has gone up to heaven except the one who came down from heaven, the Human One. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so must the Human One be lifted up so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but will have eternal life. God didn’t send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him isn’t judged; whoever doesn’t believe in him is already judged, because they don’t believe in the name of God’s only Son.

“This is the basis for judgment: The light came into the world, and people loved darkness more than the light, for their actions are evil. All who do wicked things hate the light and don’t come to the light for fear that their actions will be exposed to the light. Whoever does the truth comes to the light so that it can be seen that their actions were done in God.” --John 3:13-21 (CEB)

In the midst of this, we hear what is likely the most famous verse in scripture. John 3:16. We hear this so often, it’s almost become meaningless to us, doesn’t it? But there are a couple of things to look at more closely here.

First, when we think of the phrase “eternal life”, we often think of unending life, particularly of life after death. Of heaven. But, a better reading of this is abundant life, which is the life God desires for us. Here and now. And in the future. A life of freedom. And of truth. A life that is free from the shame of our own darkness. Those things we keep hidden. Of which we are most ashamed. Our mistakes. How we treat - or mistreat - those we love the most. More broadly, our thirst for power in this world. Our marginalization of people who don’t think like us. Or look like us. Or live like us. 

Then, there’s this word “perish.” It’s in a reflexive voice. Meaning that the subject of this verb is affected by its own action. In other words, the perishing Jesus is talking about in this most famous verse in Scripture is a perishing of our own making. God’s own Son has come to save us from ourselves. Because we would choose to live in darkness. Yet God, through the Holy Spirit works faith in our hearts. Notice I said that the Spirit works faith in us. We don’t have the capacity to choose. It is God at work in us. Yet, we can refuse to receive that faith. To hang onto the darkness in us. And to the darkness of this world. To perish through our own making.

But, here’s the thing. God doesn’t come to us in Jesus to condemn us. Or anyone else.

God’s approach to us is all about love. God does this horrible thing - let’s name it, it is a horrible thing that God is doing. To give up God’s Son to die on the cross. For us. In love. So, that we might experience abundant life. A life of freedom and joy. A life of openness and trust. A life lived in the light and with others living in the light. People whose actions reflect that light.

The Nicodemuses of the world might be able to say all the right things, but until they put their lives on the line for the faith, in John’s gospel, they are still people who “love darkness more than the light.” 

May you and I, born anew and from above by the power of the Holy Spirit. May we, as people of God, be lovers and actors. Not of the darkness. But of the Light. Amen. 

Preached Sunday, January 30, 2022, online with Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, KY, and Third Lutheran, Louisville, KY.

Epiphany 4

Readings: John 3:1-21; Psalm 139:13-18

God's Presence Brings Life: Children of Light

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’”) From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known. --John 1:1-18 (NRSV)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God, our Creator, and from Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh. Amen.

Welcome to the New Testament! For some of you, perhaps you’re breathing a sigh of relief. The Old Testament, or the Hebrew scriptures, which we’ve been focused on for the past several months, can be hard texts. Perhaps, it feels just a bit more comfortable to be back in the New Testament. Familiar ground for us. More familiar territory.

I listen each week to a podcast called Bibleworm. It features two scholars, who dig into our narrative lectionary text each week, coming from two perspectives, one Christian and the other Jewish. The Jewish scholar in this week’s podcast admitted how uncomfortable it was for her in the New Testament. Similar to our discomfort at times in the Old Testament.

But, today, we move into the gospel of John, which will become familiar territory for us from now through the spring, with the exception of the next two weeks. John doesn’t offer us a birth narrative. So, we’ll take a slight detour into Luke and Matthew in the coming weeks, then back into John through Easter and beyond.

The Jesus we find in John is often portrayed as some far away, highly spiritual, barely graspable Messiah. Karoline Lewis, a preaching professor at Luther Seminary, disagrees with this - claiming that, in fact, the Christ portrayed in John as a relational, deeply intimate Christ. The story of the incarnation itself - of God in Jesus coming to us. 

In the first half of the book, we will hear of Jesus’ miracles - signs are what they’re called in John. Their importance is not the miracle itself per se, but that they point to Jesus as the Messiah. The way in which these signs are interpreted is through dialogue - Jesus talking to people in conversation. So, as we move through John, you and I will be talking more in conversation. Less of a one-way discussion from me and more discovering together what God might be saying to us in these rich gospel texts. So, be prepared for a few questions along the way - questions that are not rhetorical but expecting a response. You’ll have to be on your toes!

Then, before we dig into the Prologue - this beginning poetry that sets out the themes we will hear through the gospel - I’d like to make a couple of background notes.

A key word to remember when reading John is “differentiation.” Here’s your first question. What is differentiation? Wait for responses. We could think of ourselves as teenagers. Differentiation is a process we all go through, when we are trying to find our own identity. Along the way, sometimes, we’re not very pleasant. In the same way, the gospel of John is speaking into a family argument, writing to a community within the broader Jewish family that has been ostracized for their belief in Jesus. They need to hear in no uncertain terms what Jesus means for them. And so, as in family arguments, sometimes we say harsh things we don’t necessarily mean, so, too, we will find harsh words mostly leveled against Jewish leaders as this Christian splinter group tries to understand who they are and where they fit in. Some of the language in John has been used as a basis for anti-Semitism. So, where we read about “the Jews” I will intentionally change this phrase to “the Jewish leaders.” A reminder - we are all ancestors of Abraham. And, as Liam and Lorelei discussed this week in confirmation, of Adam and Eve - one human family. 

Now let’s dig into John, chapter 1. “In the beginning” we read. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. “He” was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through “him,” and without “him” not one thing came into being. The author of this gospel was set in two worlds - a Jew fully immersed in the Torah. And a Greek thinker. So, there are references to the Hebrew scriptures and also some references to Stoic philosophy in this text. The word, “Word,” in Greek is logos. It is somewhat ambiguous in terms of gender. In Stoic philosophy, logos was understood as the organizing principle of the cosmos - the principle by which the whole world was held together. 

This is poetry. It requires us to slow down a little to make sense of it. We often read this text on Christmas Eve. But rarely do we take it apart to fully understand what it means. So, understanding the author’s perspective, when you hear these opening words, without using the name “Jesus,” what does this text remind you of and what might it be telling us? 

Continuing on, we read that in him was life and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. Do you notice in that last sentence, that the verb used with the word “light” is in the present tense. The verb used with darkness is in a “past” tense. What might that be saying to us?

Moving on, we have a couple of narrative sentences that tell us about John - not the author John, but the one we know as John the Baptist. This John was, according to historical accounts, much more significant than Jesus was in terms of followers. So, perhaps, these few sentences are inserted here to ensure that the listeners understand that John is not the Logos. The author is developing the idea that there is light in the world, but that it’s not always recognized by everyone. 

Continuing in verses 9-14, we read that the world did not know “him.” Kosmos is the world used here in Greek for world. It’s defined as those human structures that come into being through Jesus, but that don’t understand this. These structures of the world - these empires, using another term - think they are of their own origin - self created. Not recognizing that they are part of God’s reality, not their own ultimate reality. This ultimate reality is the kingdom of heaven that is inaugurated in Jesus. You and I participate in the kosmos. When our scripture texts rub up against our modern empires - those we participate in - we are challenged by these words. They can make us feel uncomfortable, angry even. But, perhaps that’s the point. Truth has an edge to it. Yet, grace is very open and accepting. So, where the truth rubs us and we make our best effort to act as children of God, grace fills in any gaps. This is what God’s only Son offers us. The truth. And then grace upon grace.

The Prologue ends with verse 18. Even as we grapple with this text today, the early Christians were grappling with something they couldn’t even fully articulate. That, in Jesus, we see the very nature of God. This is a God who leans more towards grace and away from some of the legalism they were hearing - that we still hear today in the Christian sect. That law matters more than gospel. The Jesus of John’s gospel tells us that this is not who God is. 

So, gathering all of this up, what might this text be saying to us, especially on this last Sunday of Advent? 

One understanding - and there are many ways in which to understand this text - but one understanding is that the Word of God, made present in Jesus is a light that has and will overcome the darkness of empire. That this is about where we live our lives. In the darkness of the human-made structures or in the light of the reign of God - a reign that is characterized by truth and grace upon grace upon grace - all of which opens up for us a new way of being in the world - as children of God.

May we be those children of light. Amen.

Preached December 19, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.
Advent 4
Readings: John 1:1-18; Psalm 130:5-8

Promises of Hope: A Light in the Darkness

 A reading from Isaiah.

Nonetheless, those who were in distress won’t be exhausted. At an earlier time, God cursed the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but later he glorified the way of the sea, the far side of the Jordan, and the Galilee of the nations.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.
    On those living in a pitch-dark land, light has dawned.
You have made the nation great;
    you have increased its joy.
They rejoiced before you as with joy at the harvest,
    as those who divide plunder rejoice.
As on the day of Midian, you’ve shattered the yoke that burdened them,
    the staff on their shoulders,
    and the rod of their oppressor.
Because every boot of the thundering warriors,
    and every garment rolled in blood
    will be burned, fuel for the fire.
A child is born to us, a son is given to us,
    and authority will be on his shoulders.
    He will be named
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.
There will be vast authority and endless peace
    for David’s throne and for his kingdom,
    establishing and sustaining it
    with justice and righteousness
    now and forever.

The zeal of the Lord of heavenly forces will do this.

Alright. Show of hands. Who’s afraid of the dark? Come on, now. Be honest. You know that feeling. That little anxious feeling that, even as an adult, arises inside when it feels like it’s too dark. Just a little too dark.

My fear of the dark began - as, perhaps, for most of us - when I was a child. Honestly, it was thanks to my brother. Like my dad, he was a big practical joker. Always messing with my sister and I.

In the early years of our growing up, my sister and I shared a bedroom. Each night, after the lights had been turned off, we would lie there in complete fear. One of things my brother loved to do was to crawl into our room on his belly. Slither under the bed. And then slowly reach this long, seemingly endless, arm up over the side of our bed and try grab us. We would scream. Move closer into the center of the bed in an attempt to get away from him. And, then, he would laugh. An evil, wicked laugh. As only brothers can do.

Darkness. It still scares me a little today. Maybe because it just feels so uncontrollable. So unknown. So. Dark. 

Darkness was what Judah was experiencing in our text today. With the Assyrians breathing down the necks of Israel in the north, Judah was being pressured to enter into an alliance with Egypt and the northern kingdom. To try to defeat their common enemy. Or, at least, to hold them off even for a little while.

In the previous chapter, Yahweh warns Isaiah not to walk in the way of the wayward people. Isaiah is called not to fear what others fear. But to fear only Yahweh. Isaiah is called not to be in dread of what others dread, but to dread only Yahweh. The text in these preceding verses describes the plight of Yahweh’s people. Who do not “wait.” And who do not place their hope in their God. 

Darkness becomes the metaphor used in chapter 8 to describe these people and their wayward experience. They will experience no dawn. They will be greatly distressed and hungry. They will look everywhere, but will see only distress and darkness. Gloom and anguish. Then, again, Isaiah tells them once more, they will be thrust into thick, thick darkness. 

What is the plight of a people who live only in darkness? A people with no light? With no dawn? With no beginning again? With no hope? Darkness brings only gloom and despair. People walking in darkness walk with hesitancy and fear. Unable to find their direction, they grab onto nothingness as they see to touch something familiar. Something that will give them a perspective. That will help them along the way. 

What are your dark places? Maybe it's the darkness of this pandemic, which once more, especially in other parts of our country and the world, is once again increasing. Maybe it's the darkness of our political world, where compromise has become a dirty word and leaders have become more and more polarized. Unable to truly lead as they have been elected to do. Or maybe it's in our economic life, where we are seeing mass resignations because, as many workers are saying, we’re tired of being treated so poorly for so little. Or maybe it's the darkness of our system of justice that never seems to work for people of color, but just perpetuates “whiteness” again and again.

Maybe the darkness is in your personal life. The darkness of failing health. The darkness of disintegrating relationships. Or the deep, deep darkness of grief and loss. The death of a beloved one. Or the deep grief we are experiencing over these past two years. 

Or maybe the darkness is here. In the church. As we watch fewer and fewer people come in the doors. And it feels as though our way of being is dying a slow. Painful. Death.

What are your dark places? Those places where it feels as though there is just no hope.

I’m reminded of the opening verses that we began this lectionary year with - those beginning words of Genesis. “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep. The Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light.”

Friends, God was there. In the dark. All along. Present in the darkness and chaos. Working to bring order and light. Perhaps the light then wasn’t for God. But for us. For “those walking in darkness” to “see a great light.” To see God’s saving action that begins in Genesis. And that we read here of in Isaiah. Where Isaiah names the darkness that will be no more. No more burden. Or oppression. Or tramping warriors. Or garments rolled in blood. Perhaps the light is for us today, too. To see that God has been and is at work in our world in the darkness and that, with the light, we can now finally see the saving action of God.

But, is there enough light to break through the darkness? To break through our apathy? Our cynicism? Is there enough light to cause us to ask ourselves once again whether it is enough to penetrate our darkness? Enough light that can shine in and redeem us?

According to Isaiah, yes. Salvation can come. The light is named. A child will be born, Isaiah tells the people, “for us.” The son is given, Isaiah tells the people, “to us.” This ruler to come is called: Wonderful Counselor. Mighty God. Eternal Father. The Prince of Peace. 

Just as God created our beautiful and ordered world out of darkness. Just as God delivered Judah with a new king. So, too, God has delivered us through the light of Jesus Christ. Salvation can come, Isaiah says, because of the zeal of the Lord. What appears to be beyond possibility can be certain. God, through God’s passion and fury, with a great sense of urgency, will see that the light will come. 

Isaiah found this to be true. May we. Amen.

Preached November 21, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.
Reign of Christ Sunday
Readings: Isaiah 9;1-7; John 8:12

Revelation of the Son of Man: Our Bright Center

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
    who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. --Matthew 2:1-12 (NRSV)

What a day - as we watch our nation’s capital under assault! 

I’m struck by the similarity of our situation today and that of the time from our reading in Matthew. The magi have travelled from afar. Following a star. Not knowing where it will lead. But understanding its importance,that it is connected to the long-promised Messiah. This king who has been promised to the Jewish people for centuries.

They land in Jerusalem. The center of all Judean life. They seek help from political leaders, wondering if they might know where this child, now most likely near the age of 2 - where he might be located. The goal of these magi? To honor him with gifts. And to worship him.  

But Herod is threatened by this. Not them, but this child, this promised king. Because Herod has a different way of seeing the world: that it revolves around him. His power. His privilege. His city. He is willing to lie and kill to keep the world the way he wants it to be. And he consults religious authorities - not for guidance - but to support his view and his actions. Herod is all about himself. His power. And preserving it. 

We may often be like Herod, centered on ourselves. On the things we want. Or the things we think. Or the things we believe. Often, like Herod, using religion for our own purposes. And, as we watch tonight the events happening in our nation’s capital, I daresay that we are not alone in this. Because this is the human way. The way inherent in us since the very beginning.

But, if we will listen carefully, this story reconstructs our world. The magi, representing those many nations, do come. But the light they see leads them finally not to the city, but to a village; not to a palace, but to a house; not to a king, but to a child; and their gifts foretell this child’s death. The child, who will grow up to be our crucified and risen Lord Jesus, who is the very mystery of God revealed, draws us and all things into God. There is our center - Jesus Christ. Not Herod. Not our national leaders. But Jesus Christ, the very presence and glory of God come to us. That center that is present wherever this word is heard: in our church. In our own homes. Here in this online place. Where we gather, where scripture is read, where we pray for all the nations - not just our own. The center, which is present in the places of our neighbors in need, with whom Christ himself identifies. 
So, let the star of these texts lead you. They will show you a whole new way to see the world. One that is centered on God. And not on us. One that does not rely upon human power, but on God’s power. And one that, no matter what happens in our world, whether it be pandemic or coup or any other trouble, will never abandon or forsake us. But, instead will help us find a way through. 

Arise. Shine. For your light has come. 

Preached online on January 6, 2021, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, and Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Epiphany

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Learning to Follow: The Great Reversal

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:1-20 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Holy Trinity: God, the Creator; God, the Redeemer; and God, the Sustainer. Amen.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been in the first few chapters of Matthew, focusing on how Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s promise. At the very end of last week’s reading, if you heard it, we listened to Jesus speak his first words of public ministry. They are the same words we heard John the Baptist speak. “Repent! [Or change your hearts and minds!] For the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

Today’s lesson begins with Jesus going up to a mountain top. Sitting down. To teach. A common way of teaching in his time. In Matthew, this is the beginning of three full chapters of teaching by Jesus. It’s what we call the Sermon on the Mount. 

Now, most scholars agree that Jesus was probably not on a mountain when he spoke these words. Again, as we’ve seen before, the author is deliberately making a connection for the Matthew audience. Drawing a line for them between Jesus and Israel and, especially, helping them see that Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel. So, just as Moses shared the law with Israel from the mountain - from Mount Sinai - so, too, the writer of Matthew places Jesus on a mountain to, share the law with his followers. Just like Moses.

Now, we know who the followers of Moses were, right? Israel. But, who were the followers of Jesus? If we back up a few more in chapter 4, we see who they are beginning with verse 23. “Jesus traveled throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues. He announced the good news of the kingdom and healed every disease and sickness among the people. News about him spread throughout Syria. People brought to him all those who had various kinds of diseases, those in pain, those possessed by demons, those with epilepsy, and those who were paralyzed, and he healed them. Large crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from the areas beyond the Jordan River.”

So, the first thing we note from this text is place. That Jesus was in Galilee. He was not in Judea, which was where Jerusalem was. Instead he was in an area that was far north. An area that had historically been the most devastated because it was near the northern border. In an area that had a long history with empire and oppression. An area that had first fallen to the Babylonians, then to the Assyrians and, then, by Jesus’ time, to the Romans. It was an area on the margins. 

The second thing we note is the activity of Jesus. He announces the good news of the kingdom of heaven. But, this is not the good news of a kingdom that is far into the future or in an afterlife, but it is the good news of a kingdom that is being experienced now. That is being lived out now. The good news pronounced by Jesus is connected with activity in the here and now. With the healing of every disease and sickness among the people.

The last thing we note in this text is about the crowd that was following him. This was not a crowd that was made up of the elite: the wealthy, the powerful, the successful. But it was a crowd of people who were diseased, in pain, with mental health issues and epilepsy, and with paralysis and the friends and families who were supporting them. Who were bringing them to be healed by Jesus. It was a crowd of people on the margins. 

So, Jesus’ ministry in Matthew is one of good news bringing healing in the present time to a marginal people in a marginal place. 

Then, we turn to chapter 5 and our reading today. Which begins with the Beatitudes. It is in these statements, each beginning with the words “Blessed are” that we begin to understand what the priorities are for Jesus in the kingdom of God.

To help us better understand this, I have a little activity that I need 3 volunteers for. I need each of you to go to the back of the sanctuary by the front doors. Then, when I say “go,” I want you to run forward as fast as you can to give me a “high five.” Ready? On your mark. Get set. Go.

The person who was in last place is our winner today. Is that a surprise for you? How is this different from what you expected? 

Thanks to all of you for your participation. 

Do you see what just happened? The world has trained us to believe that only the fastest, the smartest, and the best will be the winners. But, this is not so in God’s kingdom. So often we look at this list - at the Beatitudes - as a “to do” list for us. If we will be poor in spirit, we will have the kingdom. If we mourn, we will be comforted. If we are meek, we will inherit the earth. And on and on. 

But, that’s not what Jesus intends. Instead, what Jesus intends is the exact opposite. It’s what we call the great reversal. The radical nature of the gospel. The scandal of the good news. Jesus teaches that those who are poor in spirit, that those who mourn or are meek, that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, that those who are merciful or pure in heart, or who are peacemakers, or who are persecuted and reviled - that all of these people are the priority in God’s kingdom. Jesus isn’t calling us to go and get persecuted, but to honor those who are. As we do this. As we honor and lift up these qualities, we will be transformed. We will realign our own priorities with those of God. We will follow Jesus’ command to repent. To change our hearts. To be transformed.

But, that’s not all. Because this is not the end of our lesson today. Matthew goes on to talk about two things: salt and light.

What does salt do? Yes, it gives flavor to food. It’s a preservative. Before the days of refrigeration, it was the only real way to preserve food. In Jesus’ time, though, salt had a different function. Palestinians in the first century placed flat plates of salt on the bottom of their earthen ovens to activate the fire. Salt was a catalyst that caused the fuel to burn. So, in other words, salt provided the spark for the fire. 

Then, what about light? What does light do? It helps lead us. It guides us in the darkness. Yes, these things. And, have you been in a dark movie theatre and your phone screen turns on? It’s is really hard to hide light. 

So, what is Jesus telling us today in this two-part text? He is telling us that the priority of God's kingdom begins on the margins. That, it consists of people, broken like us, who have been healed and made God’s disciples by grace. But that the discipleship doesn’t end there. It doesn’t end with healing and with salvation, with simply sitting and waiting for that eternal, heavenly kingdom. It exists in the here and now, just as Jesus taught. With us, as his followers, being salt in the the world. Being the spark that gets the fire burning. And being light - not light that is hidden - but light that shines brightly and can be seen for miles.

You see, discipleship is intended to turn our lives upside down, just as God’s kingdom is one of great reversals. Discipleship is intended to change us completely in how we plan our days - both in what we do and in how we do it. This is what it means to be a follower of Jesus in the here and now. It is to be a leader. To be the salt and the light. To guide the world to a deeper understanding of God's kingdom - a kingdom of great reversals. A kingdom of the here and now. A kingdom for all eternity.

May God guide us in our transformation - in our great reversal - that we might be more fully the salt and light for the kingdom of God. Amen.

Preached January 27, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 3
Readings: Matthew 5:1-20, Psalm 1:1-3

God's Promise of Jesus: Guided by God

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
    who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:

“A voice was heard in Ramah,
    wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
    she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”

When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.” Matthew 2:1-23 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you, from God, our Creator, and from our Savior Jesus, the Messiah, who is Christ the Lord. Amen.

We’ve really romanticized this story, haven’t we? It’s not often that we hear this full second chapter of Matthew on this day. Usually, on Epiphany, we hear only the story of the three magi and the star. Notice, I use the word “magi” instead of “wise men” because this is what they were - magi. Short for magician. Not the magicians that we know, but more like astrologers. Those who look to the stars and to the heavens for answers. 

We’re romanticized this story, creating a myth that there were three magi, led by the star, from very far away. Assuming that, from the number of gifts in the story, there are three of them, although our text never says that.

We’ve romanticized the gifts themselves. The three gifts. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. We’ve created our own imagery around these gifts. That gold was given to represent Jesus as king. And of his kingly reign. Then frankincense. That it was given to represent Jesus in his priestly role, since this fragrant oil was used by the temple priests in their rituals of sacrifice. And, then, the third gift, myrrh, an oil used to prepare bodies for burial. Given to represent the sacrifice of Jesus. His death. For us. 

We’ve developed such a lovely and romantic story around the coming of the magi, that it is hard to hear the entire story.  The full story. Not only the story of the magi, who follow the star to find this new king. But, also the story of Herod. And of the religious leaders in Jerusalem. Herod, a puppet king, controlled by Rome, claiming to have Jewish ancestry in order to get the position. And, then, there are the religious leaders. The ones who should have been the ones to know about this king, instead of these foreigners - these Gentiles - from the east. Both Herod and the religious leaders who are frightened by the possibility of a new king rising up to claim power. All of Jerusalem, which was the center of power. Threatened by a baby. 

And, then, there is the worst part of the story, a story that is often called, “The Slaughter of the Innocents.” The killing of children two years old and under. Out of fear and out of Herod’s anger at the act of civil disobedience by the magi. As they, not trusting Herod, disobey his order to return and tell him where this new king is. With the result that Herod, in his fury, orders innocent children to be killed. 

Perhaps we have romanticized this Epiphany story, glossing over all of the evil, because it feels too close to home. Too close to our own world, two thousand years later. 

And, yet, if we look closely at this story, there are those small places of hope. Those small lights in the midst of the darkness. There is the warning to the magi in a dream to return another way. Instead of via Jerusalem and without providing intelligence about the child to Herod.

There is the angel who appears to Joseph again, in a dream. And warns him to go to Egypt. To take Mary and the child and flee. To become refugees in a land that once imprisoned and enslaved Joseph’s ancestors. To be safe from Herod.

And, then, there is the very star itself. Called the Bethlehem Star. That, if you listened carefully to the story this morning, you heard that the magi first noticed it at its rising. That it was lost along the way. Yet, that after the magi had set out from Jerusalem, it appeared once again. Leading them and then stopping over the very place where the young Jesus was.

I stumbled upon an article this week by Craig Chester, an astronomer who co-founded the Monterey Institute for Research in Astronomy.  This Star of Bethlehem, he writes, “is a mystery and a puzzle, involving not only theology and astronomy, but also history and even astrology.”

Theologians and astronomers and historians for years have struggled over this story. Trying to understand who the Magi were. Where they came from. When they might have appeared in Judea. Trying to connect historical timelines with astronomical knowledge to find out if this story of the star and of the magi is true. Even though, for us, we know that the gospels are not written necessarily for historical or other scientific purposes, but to provide theological understanding for God’s people. 

And, yet, Dr. Chester tells this story, from his perspective as an astronomer. That in 3 and 2 BC, astronomers know that there were a series of close conjunctions involving Jupiter. Interestingly, the planet Jupiter represents kingship, coronations, and the birth of kings. In Hebrew, Jupiter was known as Sedeq or “righteousness,” a term that was also used for the Messiah.

In September of 3 BC, for example, the planet Jupiter came into conjunction with Regulus, the star of kingship, in the brightest constellation of Leo, which was the constellation of kings. It was also a constellation associated with the Lion of Judah - a reference that is made in Hebrew scripture to the Messiah. In that month, the royal planet approached the royal star in the royal constellation representing Israel. Just a month earlier, Jupiter and Venus, the Mother planet and the planet of love, had almost seemed to touch each other in another close conjunction, also in Leo. And, then, the conjunction between Jupiter and Regulus was repeated. Not once, but twice, in February and May of 2 BC. Finally, in June of 2 BC, Jupiter and Venus, the two brightest objects in the sky except for the sun and the moon, experienced an even closer encounter when their disks appeared to touch. To the naked eye they became a single bright object above the setting sun.

Chester argues that the Magi, being the skilled astrologers that they were, could not have missed this exceptionally rare spectacle. That the astrological significance of these events must have been seen by them as the announcement of the impending birth of a great king of Israel.

Now all of this is incredibly fascinating. At least, it was to me. But there’s one more observation made by Dr. Chester. You see, planets normally move eastward through the stars, not westward as they would have had to move to reach Bethlehem. They also regularly exhibit what are called retrograde loops, which are points in the sky when they appear to slow, come to a full stop, and move backward (or westward) through the sky for weeks. As a planet nears the end of a retrograde loop, it slows, stops, and then resumes its eastward course. Chester argues that it seems plausible that the Magi were “overjoyed” at again seeing before them His star - Jupiter - which, at its stationary point, was standing still over Bethlehem. He argues this because astronomers know for certain that Jupiter performed a retrograde loop in 2 BC. And that it was at its stationary point on December 25th.

Now, I don’t know the truth or even the significance of Dr. Chester’s article. What I do know, though, is that, as we read through this story that has both great joy and deep sadness, we see these points of light appearing in the midst of darkness. Dreams. Angels. A Star. Points of light that guide the magi and Joseph out of darkness. Small moments of guidance. Moments of God’s guidance.

Because this, I think, is how God guides us throughout our lives. Through small points of light - star gifts - small moments that lead us out of darkness to the light and the joy of the incarnation. To the coming of God to earth to be present with us for all time. 

And, so, this morning, I have a small point of light for you. We call these Star Gifts. There are a number of stars here. On each is a word that I would like you to reflect on for the coming year. Hang it somewhere, where you can see it every day. And, then, like Mary, ponder the significance of this Word on your life this year. Wonder how God might be speaking to you through this simple Word. Notice that you are not asked to give anything, but invited to receive. Because this is always the order of things in God’s realm - God always gives first. And then we are invited to respond with our gifts and ourselves.

May this star gift provide for us moments this year to ponder the incarnation of God. How God comes to us. How God speaks to us. And how God guides us, just as God did the magi so very long ago. Amen.

Preached January 6, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Feast of Epiphany
Readings: Matthew 2:1-23; Psalm 96:10-13

Embodied Faith: Living With Integrity

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.

My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. 1 John 1:5-2:2 (NRSV)



Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

We are continuing our look at 1st John, which was a letter written to the community of John’s followers sometime after the Gospel of John, near the end of the first century. We learned last week, that this letter was intended to affirm the divine nature of Christ, but, that mostly, it was intended to stress the tangibility, the touchability, the being in community with Christ. Specifically, the human nature Christ. That it is this humanity of Christ--Christ coming to earth in the body to be with us--that suggests to us that our faith is to be lived out in community. Not individually. But, in community.

So, today, we have our second lesson from 1st John. As we think about this lesson, we are going to think about this together. This will be more of a participation sermon! More of a conversation between us. And, perhaps, between all of our ideas and thoughts, we may come to an even greater understanding of this passage than if I simply stood up here and preached a one-way sermon. Because we are so much greater together than we are individually. So, I hope and I invite you to feel free to join into conversation with me around today’s reading.

To begin with, we just heard a reading that is chock full of metaphor. What is a metaphor? (Dictionary definition: a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable. Or a thing regarded as representative or symbolic of something else, especially something abstract.) It’s when we transfer some of the meaning of a word or a phrase to something else.

What are some examples of metaphors? These can be from scripture or not. 
I am the good shepherd. (Jesus in John’s gospel.)
All the world’s a stage, and all men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances. (William Shakespeare)
Chaos is a friend of mine. (Bob Dylan)

So, metaphors are things that are used to help us better understand something. Would that be a fair description?

In today’s lesson, there is a very famous metaphor that is used for God. “God is light.” What meaning does this particular metaphor for God have for you? What are other examples of metaphors for God that you can think of or that we find in scripture? (I am the gatekeeper. I am the bread of life. Etc.) Why do you think the Bible writers use metaphor so much? (To help us better understand the nature of God.)

So, if metaphors are used in scripture to help us better understand who God is, then, I’m going to do a little demonstration using the “God is light,” metaphor to understand what this might mean for us in our lives as disciples.

(Hold up flashlight.) What is this? Flashlight. What is it used for? To help us see better in dark places or in darkness. What are some other things we use to help us see better in darkness? You have an example of something that was given to you as you entered the sanctuary this morning. Candles, lights, or nightlight.

So, now, I’m going to tap into those who were in the Kerygma class this past spring. In that class, we went deeper into the Gospel of John. In particular, at the start of our study, we looked at specific words and their meaning as they were used by the gospel writer. The epistle of 1st John was likely either written by the same author or group of authors. So, many of the meanings from the gospel of John are transferable to the letter of John.

So, Kerygma experts, how did the author of the gospel define the word “light”? As goodness. So, if “light” means “goodness,” then what is “darkness”? Right, the absence of goodness, or, in one word, “evil.” Let’s go back then to the very first sentence in today’s Gospel lesson and replace the words “light” and “darkness” with “good” and “evil.” Does someone what to read it with those replacements? This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, the God is good and in him there is no evil at all. 

How does this change, or does it change, your understand of who God is? Has anyone ever said this to you, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.”? Do you see how bogus that phrase is? It’s bogus because it suggests that God gives us evil things, but never anything more than we can handle. If the nature of God is good and if there is no evil in God at all, does God really send evil to us? 

This leads us to the second point of today’s text. It’s the part that applies to us as people of God. It’s a pretty strong and pointed message for us. I’m going to read it this time from The Message paraphrase:

“If we claim that we experience a shared life with God and continue to stumble around in the dark, we’re obviously lying through our teeth--we’re not living what we claim. But, if we walk in the light, God himself being the light, we also experience a shared life with one another, as the sacrificed blood of Jesus, God’s Son, purges all our sin.”

As Lutherans, over and over again our focus is that we are saved by faith through God’s grace. This is absolutely true! But, what this often led to is a disconnect between our faith--what we say we believe--and our actions.  If we truly have faith, 1st John says, then our faith--our embodied faith where Jesus is incarnated in our very hearts. Then our faith requires us to live with integrity.

Integrity. That’s a big word. What does it mean? There is a consistency between words and actions. When we do what we say we will do. Or when we do what we say we believe. 

When we say we will do something and do it, that is integrity. When we say that God desires we love our neighbors and we go out of our way to help someone, that is integrity. 

But, when we say that, as believers, we are to care for the poor or the marginalized and we act in ways that harm them, then, quite simply, we are lying. And, even worse, if we say we have faith and then walk in darkness, but then say it is light, we “double err.” That’s what Luther calls it. Two evils: to err and, then, to defend error.

My friends, faith is not faith if we don’t live it out. And not just to our family and friends and those people we like. But, particularly, to those we don’t like or to those who we don’t think deserve it. That is an embodied faith that is living with integrity. A faith that walks the talk.

It is not easy. And we often fail, don’t we? The good news is the promise at the end of our lesson today. “My little children, I’m writing these things to you so that you don't sin. But, if you do sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous one. He is God’s way of dealing with our sins. Not only ours, but the sins of the whole world.”

This is our comfort. That, as we go about our lives together and seek to truly live out our faith with integrity, here in this place and in our neighborhood, we have the promise that, when we fail, God will be right there to pick up the pieces. To pick us up and forgive us. Because God has given us God’s Son as our advocate. Our own public defender. Our Savior who has dealt with our sins and with the sins of the entire world. 

Thanks be to God, who, loves us so much that, even when we fail, God clears us of guilt and frees us to try one more time!

Amen. 

Preached Sunday, July 1, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 6
Readings: 1 John 1:5-2:2 (John 1:29)