God's Power: Transfiguration and Oobleck

Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

‘For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.’

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. --Matthew 16:24-17:8 (CEB)

Transfiguration. Our story today feels kind of magical, doesn’t it? This story of Jesus transfigured on a mountaintop and talking to Moses and Elijah.

Anyone here a Harry Potter fan? If so, you know all about transfiguration. It was a mandatory subject required for all freshmen students at Hogwart's. Transfiguration in the Harry Potter series was a branch of magic that focuses on changing the form or appearance of something by altering its molecular structure. In other words, it was not just about changing one small part of something into something else, but about changing the entire essence of a thing or a being into something completely different. Transfiguration in Harry Potter was regarded as very hard work and more scientific than any other form of magic because the practicing witch or wizard had to get it exactly right for the Transfiguration to be successful. To be a successful witch or wizard required that one had to master the magical art of transfiguration. 

Now, I’m not saying that the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountaintop was a magic trick. Perhaps it seemed magical. But, for Peter and James and John, the change in Jesus’ appearance and, particularly, the voice from heaven that declared Jesus to be the Son of God - well, it was terrifying. So much so that they fell on their faces and were filled with fear. The end of this mountaintop experience was not at all as glorious as its beginning. 

But, wasn’t that really the point Jesus was trying to make to them in the words he spoke before they went onto the mountaintop. About what it really meant to be a follower of Christ? That, while there may be mountaintop experiences, we are really called to be down in the valley. In the heart of things. Where it sometimes can be hard.

“If any want to follow me, they must say “no” to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. We don’t really understand what it meant to “take up one’s cross.” In Jesus’ time and later among the believers to whom Matthew was writing, to “take up one’s cross” meant literally to pick up and carry the cross one was about to be crucified upon. Crucifixion in this time was not a one-off with Jesus’ death on the cross. Thousands and thousands of people were crucified, perhaps even hundreds of thousands. For being enemies of the state, especially rebelling slaves and revolutionaries. Crucifixion was a very real possibility for Jesus and his followers and for Matthew’s community, too. 

This mountaintop experience, at least for Jesus, revealed fully his divine nature. But, it was a precursor to another mountain top experience where Jesus would take up his cross and be crucified upon it.  

For the disciples, though, their transfiguration was more like oobleck. 

Oobleck. Ever heard of oobleck? Ever made oobleck? It’s a type of material that is named after a Dr. Seuss story, Bartholomew and the Oobleck. I figured if I tapped into Harry Potter, I’d also touch on a story that older generations might know. This book tells the story of Bartholomew Cubbins, a page in the Kingdom of Didd. Bartholomew’s boss, King Derwin, is described as being temperamental at the weather because he wants something new. So he sends Bartholomew to get the magicians of the kingdom to make a new kind of weather, known as oobleck.

They do. And it’s a mess. Because although oobleck is a liquid that falls from the sky, when it hits the earth it solidifies into a gelatinous and adhesive mess. It gums everything up. The royal trumpeter (Jon, maybe you’ll appreciate this) tries to sound the alarm, but oobleck gets into the trumpet and he gets his hand stuck in his trumpet when he tries to remove it. And on and on. Eventually, Bartholomew reprimands the king for making such a foolish wish and tells him to apologize. Although reluctant at first, finally, the king says two simple words. I’m sorry. And the oobleck storm stops and the sun comes out to melt away all the green slime.

Oobleck, named after this Dr. Seuss' story, is a real substance that pours like liquid. But, if pressure is applied, it is transfigured. Transformed. It becomes a solid. It’s kind of like Peter and James and John. And you and I. 

If we think this journey of discipleship is about us, then we fail to understand what it means to be Jesus’ followers. To follow Jesus requires us to lose our lives. To be willing to take up our cross. To give up the very essence of being human. To be formed and shaped under pressure so that we, like oobleck, become transfigured. Solidified. And find new life as followers of Christ. 

This week we begin the season of Lent. May this be an opportunity for you to become more solid. May this be a time of transformation and transfiguration for you and me. As we, together, lean into the disciplines of Lent. And as we are shaped and formed more deeply in our discipleship. 

So that we might follow Jesus to the second mountaintop, to his cross.  And together look forward to that third mountaintop experience. And life together. 

Forever. 

In the very presence of God. Amen.

Preached on Sunday, February 19, 2023, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, and Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Transfiguration Sunday

Readings: Matthew 16:24-17:8; Psalm 41:7-10

God's Power: The Power and Possibility of God's Reign

Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like someone who planted good seed in his field. While people were sleeping, an enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat and went away. When the stalks sprouted and bore grain, then the weeds also appeared.

“The servants of the landowner came and said to him, ‘Master, didn’t you plant good seed in your field? Then how is it that it has weeds?’

“‘An enemy has done this,’ he answered.

“The servants said to him, ‘Do you want us to go and gather them?’

“But the landowner said, ‘No, because if you gather the weeds, you’ll pull up the wheat along with them. Let both grow side by side until the harvest. And at harvesttime I’ll say to the harvesters, “First gather the weeds and tie them together in bundles to be burned. But bring the wheat into my barn.”’”

He told another parable to them: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and planted in his field. It’s the smallest of all seeds. But when it’s grown, it’s the largest of all vegetable plants. It becomes a tree so that the birds in the sky come and nest in its branches.”

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast, which a woman took and hid in a bushel of wheat flour until the yeast had worked its way through all the dough.”

Jesus said all these things to the crowds in parables, and he spoke to them only in parables. This was to fulfill what the prophet spoke:

I’ll speak in parables;

        I’ll declare what has been hidden since the beginning of the world.

Jesus left the crowds and went into the house. His disciples came to him and said, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds in the field.”

Jesus replied, “The one who plants the good seed is the Human One. The field is the world. And the good seeds are the followers of the kingdom. But the weeds are the followers of the evil one. The enemy who planted them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the present age. The harvesters are the angels. Just as people gather weeds and burn them in the fire, so it will be at the end of the present age. The Human One will send his angels, and they will gather out of his kingdom all things that cause people to fall away and all people who sin. He will throw them into a burning furnace. People there will be weeping and grinding their teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in their Father’s kingdom. Those who have ears should hear.” --Matthew 13:24-43 (CEB)

I’d like to begin this morning by considering how we hear things. Specifically, depending on who we are or where we are, how we hear things may change. Context. Everything is about context.

Here’s an example. “Throw the book at someone.” Now, if I were a schoolteacher and I heard one of my students say that they were going to throw the book at someone, how might I hear this? How might I respond?

On the other hand, if I were in a courtroom, sitting at a defense table, and I heard the judge talk about throwing the book at someone, how might I hear that? How might I respond?

Today, we have these three parables about the reign of God. The basic meaning of the root of the word, parable, is hidden. Often, the message Jesus is trying to tell is hidden. Mysterious. He even says that in our text when he quotes Isaiah: I speak in parables. I’ll declare what has been hidden since the beginning of the world. Some consider parables to be subversive speech. That Jesus used scenes from everyday life to expose the contradiction between the actual situation of his hearers and the teachings of God’s justice. When I was in Sunday School, I was taught that a parable was an “earthly story with a heavenly meaning.” (Whatever that means!) However you want to consider them, parables are complicated. And, today, we have three of them: the parable of the wheat and the weeds. The parable of the mustard seed. The parable of the yeast. We don’t often hear them read altogether, yet that is exactly how they are placed in this thirteenth chapter of Matthew. One right after the other. Jesus moves from one parable to the next and, immediately, to the third. So, what does this mean? And what is he, through these parables, trying to say?

Again, I would suggest to you that context matters.

For example, if you were one of Jesus’ actual followers, you were likely a member of the bottom tier of society. By Jesus’ day, Israel had become part of the Roman Empire with the top tier of society, the elite of his day - including the ruler, the ruling class, those who did the empire’s bidding, priests, and, perhaps a few merchants - the elite whose primary focus was to maintain the status quo and plunder the wealth of the bottom tier of society, which included the peasants and farmers. So, from the viewpoint of the bottom tier of society, you would immediately get that something wasn’t quite right about these parables. What farmer, after all, would allow the weeds to remain beside the wheat? Or who would even want the mustard seed to grow - because it was considered an invasive plant that could do damage to good crops? Or who would mix yeast into the amount of flour identified in our text - an amount that, once baked into bread, would be the equivalent of 150 loves? Enough to feed an entire village. 

If you were one of Jesus’ listeners, you would begin to understand the upside-down nature of God’s reign. And, then, perhaps you would begin to question the nature of your world. Parables as subversive texts? Perhaps so.

Or consider if you were part of the audience to whom Matthew was writing in this gospel. The first parable might have been understood by your community as the reign of God in the world. That the separation from Israel is now complete and that you are part of the church beginning the Gentile mission. The world is now your field of endeavor, an opportunity for you, as part of Matthew’s community, to begin to bear fruit. 

Or consider if you were a follower of Origen, a third century early church father, who wrote that the parable of the wheat and the weeds was really about what was inside us. Or, to put it in a Lutheran framework - the wheat being the saint in us and that weeds being the sinner in us. 

Context matters. Where you are and who you are as you are reading these parables change their meaning. Which may be a little unsettling. Perhaps so.

But there are a few key understandings that, no matter who you are, where you are, or what time frame in which you are reading these parables, there are a few things we can notice universally about them. 

First. Notice in the parable of the wheat and the weeds who sows the seeds and who controls the reaping process. It’s neither you nor I.  But God.

Second. Notice in the parable of the mustard seed, the subversive nature of God’s reign. Notice, again, who plants the seed so small that it’s almost invisible, but that, through nurturing and care, grows into something large and beautiful that serves others, whether it's the birds of the air or the least among us. It all begins, once, again with God. 

Third. Notice that the parable of the yeast is really not about the yeast at all. It’s about the amount of flour that, along with such a small cake of yeast, can make so. Much. Bread. Such abundance that it can only be shared. An abundance that comes from God. And God alone.

This is what the reign of God looks like. Planted by God and leading to such great abundance, yet with a reminder that it is, once again, God and God alone who will create and grow and, ultimately, be the final arbiter of God’s justice. It is a reign initiated by Jesus, who affirms that it is both a present reality and a future hope. A now, but not yet. A reign that, like pregnancy, is mysterious, miraculous, comes with pain and urgency, and gives new life. A reign that pervades and transforms everything it encounters. A reign that, though we cannot see it fully now, has as its hallmarks, hospitality, generosity, and abundance.

So, whether you are part of Grace & Glory considering what the future may bring. Or whether you are a member of Third on the cusp of something bread new, may we all remember and hold fast to the truth that the reign of God is one of power and possibilities. And that we are called to come alongside and share. 

May we have ears to hear. Amen.

Preached Sunday, February 12, 2023, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, with Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

Readings: Matthew 13:24-43; Psalm 84:1-7

Learning to Follow: Who Will You Be?

Then the Spirit led Jesus up into the wilderness so that the devil might tempt him. After Jesus had fasted for forty days and forty nights, he was starving. The tempter came to him and said, “Since you are God’s Son, command these stones to become bread.”

Jesus replied, “It’s written, People won’t live only by bread, but by every word spoken by God.”

After that the devil brought him into the holy city and stood him at the highest point of the temple. He said to him, “Since you are God’s Son, throw yourself down; for it is written, I will command my angels concerning you, and they will take you up in their hands so that you won’t hit your foot on a stone.”

Jesus replied, “Again it’s written, Don’t test the Lord your God.”

Then the devil brought him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. He said, “I’ll give you all these if you bow down and worship me.”

Jesus responded, “Go away, Satan, because it’s written,You will worship the Lord your God and serve only him.” The devil left him, and angels came and took care of him.

Now when Jesus heard that John was arrested, he went to Galilee. He left Nazareth and settled in Capernaum, which lies alongside the sea in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali. This fulfilled what Isaiah the prophet said:

Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali,

        alongside the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles,

    the people who lived in the dark have seen a great light,

        and a light has come upon those who lived in the region and in shadow of death.

From that time Jesus began to announce, “Change your hearts and lives! Here comes the kingdom of heaven!” --Matthew 3:1-17, 4:1-17 (CEB)

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

Have you ever heard of the Dead Sea Scrolls? If so, what do you know about them? (Sidenote: Did you know that one of the fragments left behind includes language that suggests that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married?) 

It is believed that these scrolls belonged to the Essenes. The Essenes were a Jewish sect that arose around during the time we call the Second Temple period in Judaism - that time between the Hebrew scriptures and the New Testament. During this time, there was a growing belief that a Messiah would come to overthrow Israel’s foreign occupation and install a period of peace. The Essenes held this belief. They lived an ascetic lifestyle in a remote wilderness area. They believed the apocalypse was imminent and that, when it came, it would begin a new time. A new Messianic age. This age was to be characterized by repentance for Israel. A call to turn back. To turn back to God so that this new time might be ushered in. 

John the Baptizer, it is believed, was an Essene. As he preached this repentance - this call for Israel to turn back to God - as he preached this on the margins of the centers of power - on the outskirts of Jerusalem, he picked up a large following, many of them coming from Jerusalem and surrounding regions. That the Pharisees and Sadducees show up in the story, in this liminal space near the Jordan where John is preaching, says something. And, from their perspective, it is not something good. But from the perspective of John the Baptizer - his place at the margins sets the stage for Jesus to enter into this same liminal space. 

You may wonder why we today have juxtaposed this story of Jesus’ baptism with that of his wilderness temptation. Too often in our reading of scripture and, especially in our lectionary texts, we treat each story as unique and set apart. But, the truth is that they are all connected. As John is baptizing Jesus the heavens open. This same word is used in Isaiah and Ezekiel to suggest that the heavens open to reveal God’s purpose. That purpose is to be found in Jesus. God’s Son. The Beloved One. The visible manifestation of God in the world. In human flesh and blood. 

But, then. And “then” is exactly the word that is used to begin our second story from Matthew. But, then, that same Spirit that descended and gently rested on Jesus - that same Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness. Jesus, like John, moves into that liminal space. For 40 days. Like Israel wandering for 40 years. For a purpose. To inaugurate - or birth - a new age of God. 

It is there, in the wilderness, where Jesus meets Satan. 

In the Hebrew Bible, Satan is not really an evil figure, more like a prosecutor on the heavenly council. But, once again in the Second Temple period, the concept of Satan - like that of Messiah - develops further. Satan became a more powerful figure. An adversarial one. The personification of evil. The leader of demons acting in direct opposition to the kingdom of God. Yet, even in this dichotomy of good and evil, God was still seen as being fully in charge of history. 

We see this in the story of Jesus’ temptation. Satan is a wily character, using scripture in a way to deceive. Offering Jesus authority over all the kingdoms of the world - as if Satan actually has ownership and control over all the kingdoms of the world. 

But, the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness for one reason. One primary reason. It is to show that One and One only has dominion over all the kingdoms of the world. That One is God, visibly manifested in Jesus. This is who Jesus is - the kind of ruler Jesus is. 

 

But, Matthew also wants us to know what kind of ruler Jesus isn’t. When given the “opportunity” to prove his special status, Jesus demonstrates restraint. He doesn’t use his power to satisfy his own appetite or to prove his invincibility. Neither does he seize on the opportunity to acquire all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor by worshiping Satan. Why? Because Jesus is faithful to God. And because this ruler - this Messianic One who will fulfill Israel’s hopes, perhaps not in the way they anticipate - does not rule with unbridled appetites, arrogance, or tyranny.

You and I. We, like Jesus, are also called to be the visible manifestation of God in this place and time, called and baptized as Jesus was. God looks at us through him and says, “You. You are my beloved.” And when we turn away, when we stray, when we get lost, God calls us into repentance, that turning back to God. Where once again, we are reminded of whose we are and how we are to live.

And then. Because even as God’s called people, we are not immune from times in the wilderness. Then, when we find ourselves in the midst of the wilderness, tempted by pride. Desiring power over others. Wishing for more and more - for all the possessions of the world. It is there, in those wilderness times, that we are faced with our own questions of identity. Who are we? What does it mean to be a baptized child of God? And how will we live into this identity? When life is hard, it is when our baptismal identity is the most challenged. How will we respond when we are stressed, overtired, anxious, angry, despondent, hurt? Or when our communities face threats - whether internal, or external? Who will we be? Really?

We look to Jesus for that example of how we are to be the visible manifestations of God in the world. Jesus shows us that it is when our lives are most difficult that we choose who we will be. Like Jesus, we will be hungry. We will have times when we are tempted to doubt God’s faithfulness. We will be tempted to reach for power, rather than to live the life of a servant. It is in the wilderness where we will be tested. And transformed.

To live into our baptismal identity - to live as a child of God in the world - we must serve God, even when things are hard. This is when we choose just what it means to be a child of God.

“If you are the Son of God,” Satan challenges Jesus. And us. 

If you are a child of God, who will you be?  

Preached Sunday, January 15, 2023, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, with Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Second Sunday after Epiphany

Readings: Matthew 3:1-17, Matthew 4:1-17

 

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

From Generation to Generation: We Tell This Story

Nearby shepherds were living in the fields, guarding their sheep at night. The Lord’s angel stood before them, the Lord’s glory shone around them, and they were terrified.

The angel said, “Don’t be afraid! Look! I bring good news to you—wonderful, joyous news for all people. Your savior is born today in David’s city. He is Christ the Lord. This is a sign for you: you will find a newborn baby wrapped snugly and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great assembly of the heavenly forces was with the angel praising God. They said, “Glory to God in heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.” --Luke 2:8-14 (CEB)

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

The stories we tell. What are some of the Christmas stories that are told in your family?

In mine, one of those stories goes back to a time when I was seven years old. That year, all my sister and I wanted was an Easy Bake Oven. Remember the Easy Bake Oven? For those of you too young to know, it was this plastic contraption molded to look like an oven. Inside, it had this heat-emitting light bulb that gave off just enough heat so that, using the tiny cake pan and tiny cake mix provided, you could make a cake. It came with 3 or 4 tiny cake mixes. But, you could also by a supplement with another 20 mixes for cakes and brownies. 

That Christmas morning, my sister and brother and I were up early as so many children are - unable to sleep. Anxious to see what Santa had left behind. So, about 4 am, we got up and quietly sneaked to our living room to open our presents left under the tree. Where we found a large box - the Easy Bake Oven! My sister and I were thrilled. The three of us quietly took the oven and all 20 plus mixes downstairs to our basement to try it out. 

Over the next 3 hours, we kept mixing those mixes and pushing the cake pan into and out of the oven. Cake after cake. Brownie after brownie. Feeding my brother who, except for the few my sister and I ate, wolfed down every single one. So that, by the time my parents awoke and came downstairs to find out why it was so quiet, all of the tiny mixes were gone. 

You can imagine their reaction. And that is a story for another time. But, this is one of many stories in my family that we tell each year at this time. I’d dare say that all of us have stories like this. Stories that, especially as we remember them, are those fond stories we tell year after year after year.  

It’s like this story. This story we tell every year. A story of a young couple, traveling on a donkey back to their hometown to comply with a royal decree. The young woman in the last stages of her pregnancy who, nonetheless, must obey that empirical directive, along with her partner to whom she is engaged, where, when they reach their destination, she goes into labor and gives birth to a tiny baby. Who will change the world. 

Amidst all the cultural and commercial stuff of this season, we continue to tell this story. What is it that captivates us so about this story? Why has it been preserved throughout the generations and across cultures? Why is the nativity of Christ so important to us? 

It begins, interestingly, according to Walter Brueggemann, with the song of the angels. A song that breaks into our world and completely shatters the decree of the earthly emperor, who seeks to control by means of a census. This song of the angels stands in direct conflict with that census decree. It announces the birth of a new king - one that neither Rome nor Herod can stop - who begins a new history. A new jubilee that frees all humanity from debt, that gives amnesty from old crimes, and a new beginning again, a beginning that has at its core, freedom. 

The angels break into our world and sing this song to the shepherds, who are the outcasts in their world. They sing their song not just to the shepherds, but to a barren old woman; to an innocent, yet believing young woman; to an old man struck dumb; to a lowly carpenter. All of whom in our world and in the world of their time meant nothing. Were of no importance. Who knew the depths of grief, whether through loss, marginalization, lack of money or power - all of those things that those who are edges of our world experience. It is to them to whom the angels break into with song. And they are amazed. 

Isn’t that what this story is really about? Being amazed. Amazed at how, over and over, this baby in his adult ministry will break down the physical, emotional and psychological narratives that divide people - that divide us. Those narratives we are told in our world about who is clean and who is unclean. Jesus breaks in, just as the angels broke in. And we are amazed. And changed. And restored back into community, given life where none seemed possible before. Offered hope rather than despair. And a future quite different than that offered by royal decree. 

This is why we tell this story. Again and again. It’s to remind ourselves of and to fully embody this story - a story of hope, a story of freedom, a story of love, a story of God coming to be with us. A story you and I are called to pass onto future generations, so that they, too, may experience the hope it brings. A hope given to us by God in Jesus - a God who breaks down the walls of our hearts to show us that there is a better way. A new way. A way of amazement and energy rather than grief and despair. 

And it begins with a baby. As helpless as we are. In need of others, as we are. Who cries out, as we do. And holds hands, as we do. Who experiences the pain and joy and complexity of being human, as we do. Who moves into our neighborhood and promises to accompany us in the journey now. And forever.

Glory to God in the highest. And on earth, peace. Good will toward all. May you hold this sacred story close to your heart. May it give you hope. And, like so many generations before us, may you pass it on. God grant it. Amen.

Preached December 24, 2022, online with Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Nativity of Our Lord - Christmas Eve

Readings: Luke 2:1-20, Micah 5:2-5; John 1:1-14

From Generation to Generation: We See God in Each Other

In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”

And Mary remained with her about three months and returned to her home.

Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. And her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her. --Luke 1:39-45, 56-58 (CEB)

Holy is God’s name, who shows mercy to everyone, from one generation to the next, for those who honor God. Amen.

Last week I mentioned my extended family on my dad’s side, who, when he died, wrapped their arms around my mother and our family - this extended family of mine. Which is huge!

Every three years we have a family reunion. Over time our numbers, big to begin with, have continued to grow. Generation after generation. Now numbering some 7 generations - maybe you have a family like this, too? These generations who come together every three years to celebrate our ancestors, our history, our sense of humor, our physical attribute (which for my family is a pretty extraordinary nose), and all of the things that make us a family. But, more than anything, we come together because we belong together. We are family. We have been through thick and thin together. Through incredibly hard times and incredibly wonderful times together. They are my family. They know me. They know pretty much everything about me. And I know about them, too. If I show up and something is wrong, they know it. Because we belong together.

Mary and Elizabeth are family like this. They’re blood relatives. Cousins. Just like all of my cousins. But, they’re more than that. They are even more connected because both of them are pregnant by the Holy Spirit. And, at the moment they meet, while our text is not clear that Elizabeth knows that Mary is also pregnant, their babies know. The next generation they are carrying knows that they are kin. That they all belong. Together. 

Certainly, Elizabeth must have sensed Mary’s complex emotions - the fear and the joy and who knows whatever else she must have been feeling. Certainly Mary must have sensed Elizabeth’s joy and awe at the fact that, at her age, she was not only carrying a child, but a prophet who would announce the long-awaited Christ. This is what belonging does. It helps us know one another. Deeply. So that in good times and in bad times, we carry one another’s burdens, celebrate one another’s joys, accompany one another along the way.

Mary and Elizabeth do this. My family and I do this. But here? In this place? Do we belong? Are we committed to this community of faith? 

You and I - all of us -belong to one other. We are made to be together in Christian community. It is a privilege to be in this community. The body of Christ is a reality created by God in Christ in which we are privileged to participate. This is what Dietrich Bonhoeffer speaks to in his essay, Life Together - the privilege that is the fellowship of faith. 

Bonhoeffer is under no illusion about the difficulty and challenge of living with others in the faith. Yet, he writes, that to share the “physical presence of other Christians” is a “gracious anticipation of the last things.” A foretaste of that community to come. Luther wrote that to be in community with other Christians was “grace upon grace” - the “roses and lilies” of the Christian life, so much of which is spent in the midst of a world that seeks to destroy us. 

If we would only recognize this.

You and I have been chosen to be a part of this community. Not by me. Not by any one else in this community. But by God and God alone. Might it be possible that you are here precisely because this is where God wants you to be?

When we choose to be apart from this community, when we go for a time without truly belonging, not being here, we begin to manufacture an identity from that alienation, from being apart. Perhaps we are busy with other priorities. Perhaps, we move away because we are hurt. Or betrayed. Or feel rejected in some way, unable to trust others. Only trusting ourselves. 

But, as theologian Cole Arthur Riley writes, “a life lived with trust only in the self is exhausting. It is not freedom. It is a yoke that falls helplessly and incessantly upon us.” 

We tell ourselves that no one can or will ever understand us or our complexities. We brag about the fact that we’re a “loner” or “independent.” It’s how we numb those wounds we feel. By elevating ourselves above the community, looking down upon it as frivolous. Or needy. Or less enlightened. Or unimportant. When, in truth, we are simply denying our own need - our need to belong.

Life together is messy. That is a fact. And Bonhoeffer cautions how we are respond when this life together gets messy. And difficult. 

It’s easy, when we’re frustrated by one another, to speak about another “covertly,” as he puts it. To scrutinize another, to judge another, to condemn another, to put another in their place, so that one gains a sense of superiority. This, he writes, “does violence to the other.” 

Instead, he says, we should pray for them. Because, no matter how much trouble they may cause, it becomes impossible to condemn or hate another sibling in Christ for whom we pray. 

‘If only,” he continues, “If only one lets go the exasperation that ‘God did not make this person as I would have made them’ and realizes that God gives us people not to dominate and control, but as a way to find divine love” - only if one lets go of this expectation, “can one find the other person an occasion of joy rather than a nuisance and affliction. The difficult part is to accept that God has not created every person in my image,” he writes. But rather, that “every person has been created in God’s image.” 

In this place. In this community we are known. Our names are known. People know us and know the ugly parts of us. And, yet, we are called to stay. Each one of us. To stay. To see God in one another. When we realize this, when we begin to see the divine in others, we are changed. We begin to see our siblings through the lens of the cross. And recognize that it is we who have failed to serve them.

In this place, our way of being together is a way of being with God. Every relationship, every interaction with one another is mediated by Christ. Bonhoeffer writes, “Human love constructs its own image of the other person, of what he is and what he should become. Spiritual love recognizes the true image of the other person which he has received from Jesus Christ; the image that Jesus Christ embodies and stamps upon all people.” 

This is how we meet God in community. Through each other.

This was Mary’s experience. As she came to Elizabeth, scared and confused as I’m sure she was. Fearful of what the future might bring, Elizabeth could have rejected her. Could have turned her away. And could have done so legitimately and under the law. 

Instead, Elizabeth saw in her the divine - as did her unborn child - leading her to affirm Mary’s blessedness. Which led to Mary’s song. Our first Advent hymn. The most passionate, the wildest, the most revolutionary Advent hymn ever sung. A song about the revolutionary power of God, to break down the structures that divide us, the barriers that separate us, the walls in our hearts that keep us apart, so that we may belong to God. And to one another. From generation to generation.

May we seek to be like Elizabeth. May we see God in this place. May we see God in each other. Amen.

Preached December 18, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.

Advent 4

Reading: Luke 1:39-45; 56-58; Luke 1:46-55

From Generation to Generation: We Can Choose a Better Way

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ took place. When Mary his mother was engaged to Joseph, before they were married, she became pregnant by the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband was a righteous man. Because he didn’t want to humiliate her, he decided to call off their engagement quietly. As he was thinking about this, an angel from the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife, because the child she carries was conceived by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you will call him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” Now all of this took place so that what the Lord had spoken through the prophet would be fulfilled:

    Look! A virgin will become pregnant and give birth to a son,

        And they will call him, Emmanuel. (Emmanuel means “God with us.”)

When Joseph woke up, he did just as an angel from God commanded and took Mary as his wife. But he didn’t have sexual relations with her until she gave birth to a son. Joseph called him Jesus. 

--Matthew 1:18-25 (CEB)

Holy is God’s name, who shows mercy to everyone, from one generation to the next, for those who honor God. Amen.

I’ve mentioned to you before that, when I was 14 years old, my father committed suicide. Painful and traumatic as that experience was for our family, it was made even more painful by the response of my paternal grandfather. My father’s father. Who blamed my mother for my dad’s suicide. Who in his own hurt and pain over the death of his son, my father, chose to strike out. To hurt her. 

Today, we hear a similar story. A story of pain and hurt. But, it is a story with a different ending. A story that teaches us that we can choose a better way.

Being engaged in Joseph’s day was a fully contractual affair. A legally binding contract. Usually decided upon by two fathers. In other words, an arranged marriage. This was the situation between Mary and Joseph. But then, Joseph learns that Mary is pregnant. As far as he knows, his new wife has been unfaithful to him. As a faithful Torah follower, Joseph knows that, in the case of adultery, the Torah commands that both the adulterer and the adulteress were to be put to death. This is what Joseph could have demanded.

But, quickly, we learn that he doesn’t choose this way. Instead, he decides to divorce her quietly. To call off the engagement. To dissolve the marriage contract. 

But, even this kinder, gentler response is not God’s plan. Enter another divine interruption. An angel. Who appears to Joseph in the middle of a dream. Who first words - as with Mary last week - were, “Don’t be afraid.”  Who says, continue to choose a better way. Choose to stay with Mary. Choose to become an adoptive parent. Choose peace over violence. Choose grace over condemnation.

We might ask why it took the intervention of a celestial being for Joseph to make these choices. To not abandon his partner, even though, under the Law, he was fully justified in doing so. It’s easy for us to condemn him for simply wanting to walk away. To point a finger at him for wanting to preserve his life. Because to remain with Mary would not at all be the easy choice with all that could be put at risk. His reputation. His livelihood. Even other relationships. Walking away was the easier thing. Walking away was justified, wasn’t it? Oh, how we want to condemn Joseph!

But, aren’t we a lot like Joseph? Every day we are faced with opportunities to choose a better way. To put our power and privilege at risk. To do what is right. Yet how often do we decline to engage? Especially when it might put our relationships at risk. Or our jobs. Or our reputation.

Every day we are faced with opportunities to choose peace over violence, whether that is physical, emotional or psychological violence. Instead, like my grandfather, we strike out against or blame those who have hurt us - whether the hurt is real or perceived - and seek to harm them. With our words or our actions. Or both.

Every day we are faced with opportunities to choose grace over condemnation. To go directly to the person who has hurt us and offer forgiveness. Or to confess our error. To stay in the game and in the relationship, especially when it would be so much easier to simply walk away.

There is a reason God has written the law on our hearts. Not to condemn us, but to nudge us in a different direction. To nudge us to be people of a different way. To relinquish the hurt or the shame to which we so tightly cling. To let go of our woundedness, which is what so often drives our need to strike back - woundedness that may come from the situation at hand, but, more likely, from some deep, deep hurt we carry with us.

Imagine if Joseph had not heeded God’s command to take Mary as his wife. What might have happened to her and her newborn child? How might the Christmas story unfolded in a much different way if Joseph had made a different choice?

You and I. We are redeemed by this Jesus. Joseph's son. Emmanuel. God with us. You and I are called to that different way. That different highway envisioned by the Prophet Isaiah in chapter 35 - that Holy Way. A way not traversed by the unclean but by those walking on that way. Where even fools won’t get lost. Where no predators will exist. Only the redeemed will walk on it - those the Lord has freed. Who will return and enter Zion with singing, with eternal joy upon their heads. Where happiness and joy will overwhelm them. Where grief and groaning will flee away.

Sadly, my grandfather never apologized to my mother. Never chose that better way. But, the rest of his family - of my extended family - did. They wrapped their arms around us and held us up, walking the way with us in our grief and loss, loving us, helping us heal and return once again to a place of happiness and joy. They, like Joseph, chose a better way.

With God’s help, you and I can, too. Amen.

Preached December 11, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.

4th Sunday of Advent

Readings: Matthew 1:18-25; Isaiah 35:1-10

Readings