The First Sunday of Christmas is one of my favorite Sundays of the church year. Like the conversation about prayer in the movie, Talladega Nights, the gospel reading on the First Sunday of Christmas serves as a reminder that Jesus didn't just jump from the manger to his baptism. Along the way, Jesus grew up, experiencing a fully human life along the way.
This year, Luke 2:22-40 gives us a glimpse of what Jesus experienced in childhood as we consider our faith and the faithfulness of God.
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Merry Christmas, everyone! Though Christmas day has come and gone, we still have some time to celebrate. In fact, there are twelve days in the season of Christmas, just like in the song, twelve days to intentionally celebrate the gift of God to the world.
The First Sunday of Christmas is one of my favorite Sundays. Unlike Christmas Day where we focus specifically on the stories of Jesus’ birth, the First Sunday of Christmas often has a story set sometime between his birth and the start of his ministry at his baptism by John. For me, this makes the stories we read on this Sunday even more important in some ways than the stories of Jesus’ birth.
At Christmas, we celebrate God's grace made known to us through the person of Jesus. Rather than give up on us as we have done so often to God and others, God comes into the world to be with us. God comes into the world to show us what love means. God comes into the world offering us freedom and salvation.
This Christmas, I draw on the stories about God's grace entering the world as found in Luke and John (see Luke 2:1-20 and John 1:1-17).
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“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light” (John 1:5, CEB).
At times we all sit in darkness. Sometimes it is a physical darkness. Sometimes it is a metaphorical darkness.
We struggle with the darkness of depression, of fear, of the unknown. We struggle with the physical darkness of the season. We struggle with the darkness of social and political unrest and uncertainty. We struggle with the darkness of doubt.
On this final Sunday before Christmas, we turn to one of my favorite passages of Scripture. Whether you know it as the Magnificat, the Canticle of Mary, or simply Luke 1:46-55, this song is Mary's response to the confirmation of God's love for the world. It proves that she understood exactly what she was being asked to do and exactly who her son would be - for her, for her people, and for the world.
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I want us to ponder for a moment if we can what Mary must have been feeling. Scripture tells us that she is a maiden, a young, unwed woman. She has been promised in marriage to a man named Joseph, but they are not yet married. And she has just learned that she is pregnant.
Now I could spend some time here going into some of the context about why she might find this problematic. I could talk about the culture in which she lived where most women had little standing aside from their father or their husband. I could talk about the relatively few options available to a woman who had a child out of wedlock and who therefore is denied marriage. I could talk about the overarching fear of living under those conditions while also being prisoners in your own country with armed soldiers on patrol around you.
But instead, I want you to simply think about the world we live in today. When you hear of a young, unwed, pregnant woman, what is the first thing to go through your mind? If she told a story about being visited by an angel and getting pregnant by the Spirit of God, what would we think? Imagine she insisted her child was coming into the world to offer salvation for the downtrodden and oppressed?
I won’t ask you to share your answers. Just know that those are the thoughts of us in the supposedly enlightened age of today. The truth of her own time would perhaps have been much worse.
And yet.
Knowing what people would say, knowing what people would think, knowing how very wrong it could go...Mary said yes.
We didn’t read the first part of the story in worship today. We’ve all heard the story before; perhaps there are some here that could recite it by heart. But I encourage you to go back and read the first part of this story when you have a chance. Go back and start reading from verse 26.
Mary is sometimes portrayed as this rather meek and timid person who simply does what she is told. Instead, we find that Mary takes the time to consider the news that the angel brings to her. Mary questions the angel and, by extension, God. And, in the end, Mary consents. She gives her agreement to this news that she has heard, this request that has been made of her. She agrees knowing what it will mean for her personally.
Then she sets out to visit her relative, Elizabeth. The scripture tells us that Elizabeth was six months along in her own pregnancy, even though she is described as unable to have children. If she and Mary were close, perhaps Mary already knew that she was pregnant. Or perhaps Mary is checking up on the angels story. “Could my barren cousin really be pregnant, or was that just a lie to get me to agree?”
But Elizabeth greets her and confirms her pregnancy. Elizabeth says, “As soon as I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy” (Luke 1:44, CEB). Not only does Elizabeth confirm her own pregnancy, she confirms the rest of the angel’s message. Mary is pregnant with the savior of the world.
And Mary’s response? She sings the song we read this morning.
I must admit, this is one of my favorite passages of scripture. It is one that I have written or preached on during Advent for at least the last five years straight. But my love for this song goes back much further.
During seminary, I became involved in the Order of Saint Luke. This is a dispersed religious community founded in the Methodist church back in the 1960s, as I recall. The primary purpose of the Order of Saint Luke is to magnify the sacraments in the life of the church.
Like many religious orders, our life together involves praying the daily office. The daily office, for those that may not know, refers to a traditional highly structured and often highly liturgical cycle of daily prayers. At a minimum, prayers are done at morning and evening, though our prayer book included prayers for seven different prayer times a day. If any of you have a United Methodist Hymnal at home, you will actually find a form of morning and evening prayer near the back of the hymnal based on the practice of the Order of Saint Luke.
Now, I know this seems a bit of a tangent, but bear with me a moment longer. Historically, several of these times of prayers came to include canticles or songs from the early chapters of the Gospel of Luke. The Canticle of Zechariah from the end of this first chapter of Luke is traditionally sung as a part of morning prayers and the Song of Simeon from the second chapter of Luke has traditionally been sung at the end of the day before bed.
However, the Canticle of Mary which we read today has long been a part of evening prayer. For centuries, Christians around the world have sung this song as a part of their prayers at the end of the working day. While I was in seminary, I sang this song once a week while gathered with others and several nights a week on my own. It is a song, a prayer, a statement, that I return to often.
This song is Mary’s response of confirmation that all these things are true. This song is Mary’s song of hope and joy and love, not just for her child but for all her child would mean for the world. This song is everything that Advent represents, all rolled up into one relatively brief passage. It is a song of peace, of hope, of joy, of love.
As we think about the gift of love this Sunday, we see in this song Mary’s knowledge of the love that God has offered, both to her specifically and to all people.
God has looked with favor on the lowly. Mary is speaking specifically about herself when she says this, but it highlights an interesting point. God does not come into the world as any of us expect it to happen. God does not come with great fanfare. God does not appear in a palace or other halls of power. Nor does God show up in the Temple or other religious arena.
God comes into the world through a woman who, by her own admission, is one of low status. God’s love is not contingent on status or limited to those of means. God comes into the world in the form of the least expected.
God lifts up the lowly. God fills the hungry. God has mercy.
These are expressions of love for the people of the world. They are expressions of love for anyone who has ever hungered or felt lonely or experienced the need for mercy. They are expressions of love felt most keenly by the people who struggle to survive, the people who are lost, the people on the margins. They are expressions of love that tell them God has not forgotten or forsaken them.
These are God’s gifts of love for us, even as they may not be the actions we normally associate with the powerful.
In this song about God’s love and what that love will accomplish in the world, Mary includes her own expressions of love. In the translation we read today, the passage begins, “With all my heart I glorify the Lord! In the depths of who I am I rejoice...” (Luke 1:46b-47, CEB). Perhaps we are more familiar with the language, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices…” (Luke 1:46b-47, NRSV). Mary says that with every fiber of her being, she wants to sing praises to God. Perhaps some of you can relate to the sensation of love expressed here.
She might as well say, “My heart can’t stop singing and my mouth will not be silent.”
This opening statement flavors everything else that Mary says here. She starts by expressing her deep and abiding love for God with all that she is and then continues by expressing the ways in which God loves us.
When I read or sing these words of Mary, I am reminded of how truly subversive this story is. It was subversive when it was written, centering a young, unwed woman of low status as the Mother of God. This story gives her agency, wisdom, voice.
It has been subversive through the centuries as it speaks of lifting up the lowly and feeding the hungry, of tearing down tyrants and leaving the rich empty-handed.
It is subversive today, as we continue to sing of God’s love and the mercy offered to people that some would claim do not deserve it. Though I have to ask, how many of us think that we do deserve it?
But I also see in this song a parallel to Jesus’ own teachings. I see here a mirror to Jesus’ teachings in the Sermon on the Mount. And I see similarities here to the Great Commandment that Jesus would highlight later in his own ministry. Kind of makes us wonder where Jesus got these ideas.
Mary expresses her great love for God.
Then, as she sings about God’s love for us, she is also highlighting what it is God would have us do for our neighbor.
Jesus taught us to lift up the lowly.
Jesus taught us to feed the hungry.
Jesus taught us to show mercy.
When I used to pray the daily office more regularly, I got in the habit of singing Mary’s song rather than just reading it. There are a couple of settings in the United Methodist Hymnal that are fairly easy to sing. I actually have a little half sheet of card stock somewhere that has the standard prayers offered throughout the day with the three Canticles on it for morning, evening, and night. The three canticles are written in such a way that they can all be sung to the same tune.
Even so, there is a relatively recent version of Mary’s song that has become my favorite. Set to a traditional Irish melody, the “Canticle of the Turning” helps us remember that Mary’s song is about love and it is about change. Mary knew that her son was coming into the world because God loves the world. She also knew that her son coming into the world would change the world.
The world is turning. God’s love is coming into the world, and the world will never be the same. With Mary, let us sing of God's love and go forth to share that same gift of love with all we may meet.
On this Third Sunday of Advent, we celebrate the gift of joy. While the themes of the various Sundays of Advent are somewhat flexible, with hope and peace in particular floating around the season, the Third Sunday of Advent has long been a celebration of joy. This is reflected in the readings appointed for the day and in the traditional opening words of worship for this day.
Today our reading comes from 1 Thessalonians 5 (see 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24) as we consider the why we have joy and how we can offer joy to others.
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In the Catholic tradition, the mass on this Sunday opens with the words, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice.” In Latin, the opening words are “Gaudete in Domino semper,” leading to the name Gaudete Sunday which some of you may have heard before.
As the season of Advent developed in the history of the Church, it sometimes takes the form of a little Lent. During the season we celebrate before Easter, our focus is on penitence and a recognition of our own shortcomings. As Advent developed, there was a similar feel of penitence as we prepare for the coming of the Lord. The season had something of a somber tone overall.
This Third Sunday serves as a small break from that. It is a Sunday for rejoicing, for remembering all that we have been given and giving thanks. It is a Sunday to step out of the sorrow and guilt that can overwhelm us in seasons of penitence and celebrate what is good in our lives and our world.
This week, we continue to explore the gifts of Advent. The second week of Advent is often about Peace. In the time of Jesus, the Hebrew people were struggling under Roman rule and looking for peace in their lives. Into that world first came John the Baptist, calling the people to repentance and reminding them that God wants to forgive them.
According to the Gospel of Mark, the appearance of John is the beginning of the good news of Jesus (see Mark 1:1-8). Drawing primarily on Isaiah, Mark helps us to see John as the voice crying in the wilderness who heralds the coming of God into the world. John is in the world pointing to the one that is coming into the world. He is reminding us to listen to God's call to us, to listen to the call to forgive, to listen to the call to peace.
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As the calendar of the church year starts over, we also switch to a new primary gospel. Where our gospel readings over the last year were primarily drawn from Matthew, the next twelve months will see readings predominately from Mark. Mark is the shortest of the gospels and, most likely, the one written the earliest. Even though many of the stories found in Mark are also found in Matthew and Luke, one of the things we will begin to notice in the coming months is the way that Mark does things a bit differently.
Maybe some of you notice this difference with today’s readings. The stories surrounding the birth of Jesus that we are most familiar with come primarily from Matthew and Luke. Luke gives us the story of the angel visiting Mary, the journey to Bethlehem, the manger, and the shepherds. Matthew gives us an angel visiting Joseph, the magi, and the escape to Egypt. Even John gets some attention at Christmas by connecting Jesus to the creation story in Genesis.
But when we look to the first chapter of Mark, we step into a story already in progress. For Mark, “the beginning of the good news about Jesus Christ” (Mark 1:1, CEB) is not in the story of Jesus’ birth, his genealogy, or his existence since the beginning of creation. For Mark, the good news about Jesus starts with John the Baptist. Mark is writing primarily for a faithful Jewish audience. His focus is not on miracles. His focus is instead on how Jesus is the Messiah, the one foretold in the prophets. So he begins his gospel by quoting the prophets.
We enter the season of waiting and expectation at the end of a long year. For many of us, Advent feels more real this year. We are waiting. We are longing. We are hoping.
Thankfully, we can look to those who came before for signs of hope, even in the most difficult times. Today, we look to Isaiah 64 (Isaiah 64:1-9) as we consider what hope looks like in the midst of difficult times.
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I preached for the first time in a church 18 years ago on the First Sunday of Advent. I was in the middle of my second year of seminary, and I had been attending worship in the congregation for almost a year at that point. I don’t really remember anything about that Sunday. I remember I was nervous, but I don’t have any specific memories of the first time I stepped into the pulpit.
Oddly, what I remember is preparing the sermon. I remember being asked in early November if I would preach the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I remember seeing it would be the first Sunday of Advent. I remember thinking, “Oh, I guess there will be a reading from one of the prophets and something from early in one of the gospels.” And I remember being surprised to discover that the gospel reading from the First Sunday of Advent came instead from the end of the gospel. Instead of focusing on the coming Christ child, the readings on this First Sunday of the season look instead to the second coming of Christ.
The reason for this is that Advent is a season with a dual purpose. It is a season of expectation and preparation. In these four Sundays before we celebrate the birth of Jesus at Christmas, it is easy for us to remember the initial coming of Jesus into the world. Over the next three Sundays, our primary focus is on the initial arrival of the Son of God into the world.
But on this first Sunday, we are reminded of all which that coming means. We are reminded of the ultimate fulfillment of Jesus’ teachings. We are reminded of the kingdom that he was bringing into being. We are reminded of his return in glory to reign over that realm that is still becoming.
Advent is a time for us to intentionally anticipate the coming kingdom. It is a time for us to intentionally look forward to God breaking into this world to change it for the better. Yes, that started with the foretold baby born 2000 years ago. But it is also something we are still looking toward. It is something we are still expecting, still anticipating. Something that was coming and is still coming into being.
Advent is about both the coming Messiah that the Hebrew people were awaiting and it is about the ultimate fulfillment of all that Jesus showed us -- something that we are still awaiting today.
This waiting, this anticipation, is an act of hope. When they looked back at the history of God’s involvement with Israel, the prophets saw how God’s promises were always fulfilled. And so they were able to look into the future with hope, even in the midst of difficult times.
Following in their footsteps, we are able to look at the future with hope for the same reasons. We have heard the words of Jesus. We have felt the effect of his teaching and example in our own lives. We have seen enough to know that God’s promises are fulfilled.
Looking at Isaiah today, we get a sense of this note of hope even in the midst of a time of anxiety and uncertainty. Our reading opens with the words, “If only you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1a, CEB) Likely written during a time of exile, the Hebrew people are looking for salvation. They feel forgotten or even punished by God, carried to another land against their will. In the midst of their suffering it would be easy to despair.
But Isaiah knows where their salvation will come from. God has promised not to forget them or forsake them. The history of God’s relationship with the Hebrew people bears this out. “From ancient times, no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any god but you who acts on behalf of those who wait for him!” (Isaiah 64:4, CEB) The Hebrew people are God’s people. God has always acted on their behalf. Even in times of chaos and uncertainty, the people of God have nothing to fear.
After the time of exile during which Isaiah was writing, the people did return to the land that had been promised to them. Over the years, their fortunes ebbed and flowed until they came under Roman rule. The people again looked to the prophets to understand what was happening and to give them hope for the future.
Into this world of longing and need, Jesus appeared. Jesus came as fulfillment of the words of the prophets, fulfillment of God’s promise of salvation. Jesus brings hope into the world, even as it is a hope that comes in an unexpected form. Jesus was not born in a palace. He did not wield military might. He did not rule through subjugation or violence.
Jesus came to offer hope. He came to show that there are other ways of living in relationship with one another than through power and dominance. He came to teach a different way of being in the world together that does not require competition or winners and losers. He came into the world and taught us that the first rule is love.
And then he asked his followers to continue the work that he started. He taught them what the kingdom to come would look like and asked them to live in that world as if it were already here. At the same time that Jesus brought hope to his followers, he asked them to bring hope to others.
As many of you know, I am a big fan of the Star Wars movies. The original movie blew me away when I was a kid, and it has continued to be a touchstone for me. Partly it is the story of good versus evil. Partly it is the story of someone of low means rising to bring down insurmountable odds.
In recent years, more stories have been told from this galaxy far, far away. One of the best of the newer movies was one called Rogue One. The setting for this movie is in the days leading up to the beginning of that movie I have watched over and over for years. It tells the story of a young woman who leads the attempt to steal the plans for the Empire’s superweapon, the Death Star.
Throughout the movie, this woman, Jyn Erso, speaks of the need for hope in the face of the Empire’s cruelty. Considering she watched agents of the Empire kill her mother and kidnap her father when she was a small girl, she knows better than most what they are capable of. But even in the midst of that, she speaks words of hope. She leads a team on an impossible mission because people need hope. She transmits a signal without knowing if anyone is receiving it because the people need hope. Her small team is like David standing before the Goliath of the Empire, and in seeing her defiance, she gives hope to others.
The Israelites under Roman rule knew what it was to live in subjugation to an empire. They knew about brutality. They knew about rule through violence and fear. Still they looked with hope to the promises of God, to the one who would come to offer them salvation.
They looked for the Messiah spoken of in the prophets.
Today, we look not for the promised Messiah. Jesus has already come. But we still look forward with hope for the ultimate fulfillment of all that has been promised.
We are not ourselves Hebrews, but we can find hope in the words of Isaiah as well. Speaking to God, Isaiah says that “All of us are the work of your hand!” (Isaiah 64:8c, CEB) All of us are included in God’s promise of salvation. All of us are included in the salvation offered through Jesus. All of us are included in that hope.
All of us in this room watch with hope as we enter this season. Over the course of this year, we have sat in chaos and uncertainty. And so we wait with hope for the ultimate fulfillment of God’s kingdom here on earth.
At the same time, we remember that those promises are for all of us. All of us are the work of God’s hands. That includes those not in this room as well.
Just as Jesus offers us hope, we must offer hope to others. I look at the ways the congregation I am currently serving has stepped up to provide food at Thanksgiving and gifts for the coming holiday. Many other congregations do an Angel Tree during Advent. Those acts provide hope to people that may otherwise feel hopeless and uncared for. They are acts of love that provide hope for people in need.
As we continue through this season, we will continue to reflect on the many gifts we anticipate during the season. After all, this is part of the celebration of Advent -- waiting with anticipation for the gift that is Jesus.
At the same time, we will also reflect on our call to continue to offer those gifts to others. How do we continue to offer the gifts we receive to the world around us? How do we continue to offer the gifts of hope, peace, joy, love, and grace?
In keeping with this theme, our song of reflection today comes from the United Methodist Hymnal. Perhaps some of you are familiar with it. “What Gift Can We Bring” is a reminder of the grace we have received from God and from others and our call to continue to offer that same gift to others. It is also a song of hope that remembers the acts of hope made by those who came before and the acts of hope we continue to participate in today.
On this final Sunday of this series where we have focused on beginnings and endings, we are again given a glimpse into the kingdom that is to come. In our reading from Matthew (see Matthew 25:31-46), Jesus uses metaphor to teach us about the kingdom of heaven that is not yet here while at the same time making it clear that we are expected to live today is if it is, in fact, already here. Using imagery that would be familiar to many of his followers, Jesus gives a twist to his familiar teaching about how we are to treat our neighbors -- loving others is one of the ways that we show our love of God.
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Today is the final Sunday of the current church year. In the liturgical calendar, this day is known as Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday. It is a day we celebrate the fullness of Jesus in our lives, our reliance on his guidance and protection in our lives. It is also a day we look ahead to the final fulfillment of the kingdom of heaven on earth and Christ’s eternal rule in that realm.
It is in some ways the ideal celebration for the theme we have focused on these last few weeks. It is an acknowledgement that the beginning will come to an end and a new reality is coming into existence. At the same time we recognize that the world to come is one we cannot fully comprehend and that our earthly rulers pale in comparison to Christ. We await the kingdom not fully understanding what it will be like even as Jesus has given us ample hints along the way.
One of the surest ways through times of change and chaos, endings and uncertainty, is having someone offer a bit of encouragement. Encouragement takes many forms, and what one finds encouraging may differ from one person to the next. But encouragement helps us maintain our focus and keeps us steady when we aren't sure what is coming or when.
This week, we return to Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians (see 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11). In this brief reading, Paul starts with uncertainty and moves to encouragement. What does it mean to not know when something we greatly anticipate or even desire is going to come to pass? How can a word of encouragement get us through such times?
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Our text today continues the themes we have been exploring this month. In this bit of the letter to the Thessalonians we read today, Paul reminds us that we cannot know the timing and the dates of the kingdom to come, for “...the day of the Lord is going to come like a thief in the night” (1 Thessalonians 5:2, CEB).
We know that the end of one thing is before us. We know that present things will come to a close. We know that the beginning must eventually come to an end. We know that the kingdom of heaven is coming. But the ultimate fulfillment of that time will come unexpectedly and without warning. We cannot know the timing and the dates.
Unfortunately, that leaves us in a bit of a difficult situation. I think we can all agree that it is difficult to wait when we don’t know what to expect or when. Looking at the health crisis looming around us with the impact of COVID on our lives, we can know that eventually things will change. Eventually we will be able to move closer to the way things were before. But not knowing when is hard. Living in the uncertainty can cause quite a bit of anxiety.
Paul seems to recognize this, which is one reason our reading today doesn’t end on a note of uncertainty. Paul does go on a bit about our inability to know and about the dangers of assuming that we know when things will go a particular way. Because of this uncertainty, he urges us to remain alert.
But, while it takes him a little while to get there, he does eventually switch gears. Going back to the metaphor of the thief, he highlights that the thief comes in the night, in a time of darkness. But then he reminds us that we are not in darkness. As followers of Jesus, who is the light of the world, we ourselves are children of the light. Therefore we cannot be in darkness.
This is a theme that comes up again during the Advent and Christmas season. The first chapter of the Gospel of John, which is often read on Christmas Eve, talks about light coming into a world of darkness and identifies Jesus as that light. There is also an Advent song in the United Methodist Hymnal that you may be familiar with that goes “I want to walk as a child of the light/I want to follow Jesus” (The United Methodist Hymnal, 206). Jesus is light, and, as his followers, we have inherited a part of that light as well.
This is the first bit of encouragement that Paul offers here. While the thief may come in darkness, we cannot be in darkness. We are children of the light, so we can see more clearly. Then Paul plays with this imagery of day and night for a bit, making some comparisons that sound almost odd to our ears. He moves from talking about light and dark to day and night to awake and asleep to sober and drunkenness.
Some of this is likely coded language that may have been immediately obvious to people in the church at Thessalonica. “Children of the Night” may have referred to followers of the Greek god, Dionysis, who held wild, drunken celebrations in the night time (as highlighted here). So comparisons between the day and the night and soberness and drunkenness might make more sense in this setting.
But in our present world, as we think about the difference between being awake and asleep, we know that when we are awake, we are generally aware of what is going on around us. However, when we are asleep, we are oblivious to what is going on around us. How many of you have had the experience of waking up in the morning to discover there had been a storm the night before that you had slept through?
Paul wants to be clear that we who follow Jesus live in the light. Because we are in the light, we are awake and aware. We will not be caught off guard, unlike those who dwell in night and darkness. Those who live in the night and darkness are asleep and therefore unaware. Therefore, we should not be afraid, though we should remain alert.
Of course, I think there are times when we hear things like this from Paul, and we may find them discouraging instead of encouraging. I don’t really want to speak for any of you, but sometimes I feel like I don’t quite measure up to the vision Paul has of what it means to be a follower of Christ. There are times that I do not feel enlightened. There are times that I do not feel awake. I read these words from Paul, and I feel like I am still floundering in darkness, asleep to the signs around me that I am supposed to recognize.
As I continue reading, I think that perhaps Paul knows that other followers reading his letters may feel the same way, for he does not leave us there. As we get close to the end of this reading, we find these words: “God didn’t intend for us to suffer his wrath but rather to possess salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thessalonians 5:9, CEB). God did not create us with the intention that we would suffer. That is not God’s will for us. Now this is a true note of encouragement. Do not be anxious, for God does not intend ill towards you.
Rather, God created us for life and for love. When we look to the life and ministry of Jesus, this is the message we see repeated over and over. His life, death, and resurrection when taken together prove God’s love for us. We are meant to love God and to love one another. That’s it. That’s how Jesus sums up the entirety of history.
Those are words that begin to fill me with encouragement, but then Paul takes it one step further. “Jesus died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we will live together with him.” (1 Thessalonians 5:10, CEB). Did you catch that? Paul takes a bit of the sting out of his earlier statements. Recognizing that we all fall short, he does not wish those that do not feel up to the task, that do not feel perfect and awake, to be discouraged or fall into despair. Jesus came for all of us. Whether we are awake or asleep, whether we consider ourselves perfect already or still in need, whether we are already enlightened or still dwelling in darkness, Jesus came for us all.
“So continue encouraging each other and building each other up…” (5:11)
In the end, Paul comes to a place where he seems to feel it doesn’t entirely matter if you are already in the community or not. If Jesus came for us all, then the best thing we can do for ourselves and for our community is to continue to encourage one another.
As I consider the present world and our need to be a sign of encouragement for others, I was reminded of a movie I have seen a few times. It may seem like an odd choice at first, but I think “The Shawshank Redemption” offers us a pretty good model for what it is that Paul is talking to us about here. Maybe some of you have seen this movie or perhaps read the Stephen King story it is based on.
The movie is set primarily at Shawshank prison. As the story opens, we are introduced first to a man who goes by the name Red as he recounts the first time he saw Andy Dufresne. Andy Dufresne is a new prisoner, convicted of killing his wife and her lover in a fit of jealous rage. But he proclaims his innocence the entire time. Trying not to give away too much of the plot of the movie, but, at least from Andy’s point of view, he knows that he is innocent.
Throughout the story, we see a man that refuses to be beaten down by the horrors he encounters in prison. He does not know when or even if he will ever be set free, but rather than falling into despair, Andy becomes an encouraging presence for his fellow inmates. Through his words and actions, the other prisoners are encouraged to be better people. Andy helps them obtain a functional library. He teaches some of them to read. He even assists more than one of the men in earning his GED. Even locked up in prison, Andy’s presence and his actions give the other prisoners hope for the future.
As we look around at the place we currently find ourselves in the world, how are we finding encouragement? Where are the signs of hope for us? And, following along with Paul’s encouragement, how are we providing encouragement for others? How is our presence in this community a sign of hope? I look at things like the Thanksgiving meal boxes and the upcoming Christmas gifts that my local congregation is providing, and I see some of the ways in which we as the church offer hope and encouragement for others.
As we draw to a close today, there is a song I would like to share. It is not explicitly a religious song, but it is obviously a song about faith and hope. The song is called “Secure Yourself” by Atlanta-based duo, the Indigo Girls. They often write songs that wrestle with faith and our place in the world. And they have connections to the Methodist community, as one of them is the daughter of a Methodist minister and Candler professor.
This particular song has similar imagery to what we find in our scripture today. There is an interplay between awake and asleep, between night and day. Phrases like “eyes wide open but fast asleep” and “hold on tight the night has come” seem to fit exactly with the imagery that Paul is using. And as we hear the chorus, we hear the note of both longing and encouragement - secure yourself to heaven, hold on tight the night has come, fasten up your earthly burdens, you have just begun. Sometimes, when all we have to offer are broken words, what we really need is a bit of encouragement.
As we consider endings and beginnings and not knowing what is next, may we hear the encouragement in these words for us today.
Last week we began talking about this season we find ourselves in, a season where the church year begins to draw to a close, where we start to come full circle in the story of the life and ministry of Jesus. As the year draws to a close, we know that there are familiar stories coming, even as we also know we will likely hear them in a new way.
Today, we have a story that is perhaps familiar to many (see Matthew 25:1-13). It is a parable about the kingdom of heaven, a recurring theme in the Gospel of Matthew. The Sermon on the Mount, which occurs early in the Gospel of Matthew, is all about laying out Jesus’ vision of what it means to live in the kingdom of heaven. In our story today, found near the end of Matthew, we see that Jesus is still talking about what the kingdom of heaven looks like.
In November, I started a new series to explore the interplay between endings and beginnings. For many churches in the Western tradition that follow the common church year, the first Sunday in Advent is also the beginning of the new church year. This is when we reset our calendars so to speak. The lectionary starts over with a new cycle of readings. We return to the same pattern of celebrations and holy days that we have seen before.
So the month of November marks an ending of sorts in the life of the church. But it is not the ultimate end. It is really more the end of the beginning of things. There is more to come.
On this first Sunday of the series, we take a look at 1 John 3:1-3 as we look back at those who have come before. We remember the saints that have modeled love and faithfulness for us, that have made it possible for us to do the same for others. We look back as a way of seeing what is to come.
During the month of October, I have been exploring our call as Christians. What does it mean to be a follower of Christ? What is it we are called to do and to be as followers of Christ?
Over the last three weeks, we have looked primarily at the letters of Paul. As the earliest Christian writings that are part of our Bible, they represent a look at how the earliest Christian leaders understood what it meant to be followers of Christ. For this final reflection, we will actually look back to the Hebrew scriptures, specifically the book of Leviticus (Leviticus 19:1-2 and 15-18).
As a Jew himself, Jesus was thoroughly grounded in Hebrew teaching and belief. So if we want to understand his teachings, we should also look at the source and grounding of his teaching.
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Today we wrap up this focused look at four of our primary responsibilities as Christians that we have been exploring this month. We started the month by exploring our call to become more like Christ rather than seeking perfection as the world defines it. Then we looked at our call to serve with gentleness all the people that we encounter along the way. Last week, we remembered those who have been an example to us as we considered our own call to be an example to others.
This week we return to a call that is a touchstone for many of us who are Christians, but we have a different text than usual as our jumping off point. Most if not all of us are familiar with the so-called Great Commandment story. This story appears explicitly in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. When Jesus is asked about the greatest commandment in the Law, the answer comes back that the greatest command is to love God and that there is another like it, which is to love our neighbors as ourselves.
At the beginning of the month, I told you that we would be exploring what it looks like to be followers of Christ, to live into the kingdom of God. Focusing on Paul’s letter to the Philippians the last two weeks, we have looked at our call to become like Christ and our call to serve all those we encounter with gentleness. This week, we turn to another of Paul’s letters to explore a different call - our call to be an example to others.
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Our reading today comes from Paul’s First Letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 1:1-10). This letter is thought to be the earliest of Paul’s letters to make their way into the Bible. Thessalonica was the capital of the Roman province of Macedonia and sat along several important land and sea trade routes. It was an important city in that region of the Roman empire, and therefore a perfect destination for Paul’s efforts.
Paul was with the people of Thessalonica for a time, teaching them and helping them to grow. Once they were in a position to continue on their own, he moved on. But he continued to send these letters back to them, letters meant to continue the teaching he had started.
This sermon continues our look at what it is we are called to do and to be as Christians. We continue looking specifically at Paul's letter to the Philippians this week as we consider his admonition to be gentle (see Philippians 4:1-9). We will consider together what it is that Paul means by gentleness with a little help from Bob Marley and Micah 6:8 along the way.
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In our reading this week, Paul begins to draw this letter to the church in Philippi to a close. If you’ve ever received or written a letter, perhaps you recognize his attempt to start summing things up here. “Therefore, my brothers and sisters whom I miss…” (Philippians 4:1, CEB). This is a sure sign that he is preparing to draw the letter to a close.
It also indicates that whatever he is about to say is the main point that Paul wants to draw attention to. Not that anything else in the letter is unimportant, but his writing here indicates he is about to share something that he feels is important, something he wants remembered if nothing else is. “Therefore, my brothers and sisters…”
As we read this, we remember that Paul was writing specifically to a particular community. Even so, we can hear these words as if they were directed to us as well. The early church gathered these letters along with the gospels and some letters from other early church leaders into the New Testament because they felt these writings were important to all followers of Christ, not just the original recipients. And so we still read these letters and stories today and hear them as if they were written to us. They are still useful for building up the body of Christ which is the church two millenia later.
You may recall that in the verses from this letter we read last week, Paul was making an argument to convince the people in the congregation to focus their energies on imitating Christ. He pointed out how easy it is to get caught up in the ways of the world, and then he made the case that we are not called to be perfect in the eyes of the world. Instead we are meant to become more like Christ.
This week, as he begins to wind down this letter, Paul continues to point us toward what it means to be Christ-like. He starts by indicating that what he is about to say is the most important takeaway for those reading the letter. After he asks the community to assist in urging two women, who Paul considers coworkers, to come to an agreement, he tells us to be glad in the Lord always. Then he writes that we should, “Let [our] gentleness show in [our] treatment of all people” (Philippians 4:5, CEB).
As you hear this encouragement, what comes to mind for you? What does it mean to be gentle with people?
It seems that when we think about what it means for something or someone to be gentle, we most often think about what it is not. Gentle is not harsh. Gentle is not violent. Gentle is not strong. Gentle is not hard. Gentle is not forceful. According to the dictionary, gentleness is the quality of being kind, tender, and mild-mannered.
Is this what Paul has in mind here? When Paul speaks of gentleness, does he simply mean we should be soft and tender to all that we meet? As we continue reading, that does seem to be a part of it. But if we read the rest of this section through the lens of Paul’s admonishment to be gentle, we get a fuller idea of what it is that Paul is encouraging here.
First, as noted before after Paul begins the closing of this letter, he names two women who we can assume are a part of the community at Philippi or at least that would have been known to the community there. He wants these two women, who he considers coworkers in ministry, to come to an agreement. So part of what Paul is thinking of as gentleness is urging those who disagree to come to an agreement. Not only that, but we seek to help out those who struggle and work alongside us.
As we continue reading, Paul goes straight from gentleness to anxiety. I would guess that we all know something about anxiety right now. We’ve been living in quite an anxious time for the last six months. But connected to gentleness, Paul tells us not to be anxious.
As I read this bit, the first thing that came to mind was the Bob Marley song, “Three Little Birds,” where he sings “Don’t worry, about a thing. ‘Cause every little thing is gonna be alright.” But, where Marley says we shouldn’t worry because everything is going to work out anyway, Paul tells us that instead of being anxious we should lift up all prayers and thanks to God.
Finally, Paul tells us that we should focus on what is true, holy, just, pure, lovely, and worthy of praise. Being gentle means focusing our energies on the right things instead of the wrong things. Following the previous suggestion, instead of focusing on the things that make us anxious, let us focus our energy on what is good in the world.
Taken altogether, Paul's vision of what it means to have a spirit of gentleness covers far more than our current expectations when we hear the word. But as we consider the urging of agreement, the support of those who work alongside us, the call to be thankful rather than anxious, and a focus on what is good and righteous, we see that Paul’s call to gentleness sounds a bit like our call to serve others. But it is a specific type of service. It is service in the sense of doing what is right, of building up others. Following on the heels of last week’s admonition, it is a humble service that seeks to promote the well-being of others. It is a service that remembers that God is the source of all that is good in the world.
I hear in this echoes of Micah 6:8. This is the well known verse from the prophet where, in response to the question of what we should offer to the Lord in thankfulness, the prophet responds, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8, NRSV).
Justice, kindness, and a humble walk with God. This is what Paul is urging us toward. As we explore what he means by gentleness, this is almost exactly how he explains it. We seek justice when there is disagreement or when someone has been wronged. We offer kindness to those that work alongside us and all those who we encounter in our day. We walk humbly with God, offering thankfulness for all that we have received and all that God continues to offer.
Therefore, my brothers and sisters, (notice what I did there?), let us remember Paul’s encouragement here and approach all we meet with a spirit of gentleness. But not only gentleness as we may commonly envision. Instead I mean a gentleness as Paul has suggested. A gentleness that seeks the well-being of others, that treats others well, that remembers to keep our focus on God.
So that we can carry this reminder with us in song, I have chosen a musical setting of Micah 6:8 as our song of reflection today. This particular setting appears in the United Methodist hymnal supplement, The Faith We Sing. It is a brief choral version of this verse. I hope that you will hear it as an encouragement to approach everyone you meet in the coming days with a spirit of gentleness.
Today we begin a new series exploring our calling as Christians. Over the course of this month, we will be looking at some of the expectations we find in scripture for how those of us who follow Christ are expected to live in the world. What does it mean to be a Christian, to live into the kingdom of God?
Paul gives us a bit of help here in his letter to the Philippians (see Philippians 3:4b-14). Paul gives us an excellent example of what we are not to do. We are not called to be perfect as the world defines it. Instead, we are called to be more like Christ.
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As we move into a new month, we transition out of the Season of Creation and back into Ordinary time. Far from our common understanding of ordinary time as dull or mundane, ordinary in this case simply means counted. This is the 27th Sunday of ordinary time.
During the church year, Ordinary time is a season of growth. It is a time when our readings touch on what it means to be the body of Christ in the world, what it means to live into the kingdom of God. There are readings from the book of Acts and the letters of Paul. And the Gospel readings are often parables about the kingdom of God.
This week we turn again to Paul’s letters. There are some familiar things going on here as Paul is again encouraging an early Christian community with arguments that he has used before. In this letter he is again talking about the difference between living for the flesh and living for the spirit, though he uses slightly different language.
Over the month of September, we have been celebrating the Season of Creation. This is a relatively recent season of the church year, recognized as a time to focus specifically on all that God has created and our place within that creation.
Turning to Revelation 22:1-5 this week, we focus on the life-giving rivers that are a part of our world.
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We started this Season of Creation at the beginning of September with verses from the first book of the Bible. It somehow seems fitting that we should end the season with a text from the last book of the Christian Bible, Revelation. This vision attributed to John brings us a view of a new creation.
In Genesis, the river that fed the Garden flowed from Eden. This river watered the Garden, including the Tree of Life. After watering the Garden, this river branched out to form the four most important rivers of the region where the Hebrews lived.
In the new Jerusalem of John’s vision, the river flows from the throne of God and the Lamb. It flows down the center of the main street where it is easy for all people to receive. The Tree of Life grows on either side of the river and provides fruit and healing for the nations.
The kingdom of God that John saw in his vision is not only of a new paradise, a new Garden. It is also a critique of the injustices perpetrated by Rome across the empire. In the face of violence and bloodshed, it offers a vision of well-being and peace based in God’s love for all of us. Instead of walls cutting off the source of life and healing from the people most in need, the River of Life flows down the center of the main street where all can gain access. Instead of being hoarded and kept only for certain peoples, the tree of life has leaves that provide healing for all nations. In the face of pain and violence and despair, this glimpse into God’s kingdom offers a vision of hope for all people. And all centered around the life-giving river.
I love the imagery in this text of the river of life-giving water flowing down the center of the street. This image reminded me of San Antonio, Texas. I don’t know if any of you have had an opportunity to visit there, but in the center of the city is a natural bend in the river. Nearly 100 years ago, the city began a project to line this part of the river with walkways. People can stroll along the banks of this river that brings life and greenery to the middle of an area that is otherwise rather dry and barren. It is a beautiful sight to see if you ever get the chance, and it is an example of the vision of hope in our reading.
Rivers like this one figure prominently throughout the Bible, and they are often places of importance. Many times, rivers are places of healing and salvation. In Egypt, Moses is saved when he is placed in the Nile in a basket of reeds. The Hebrew people enter the land of Israel by crossing the Jordan River. Naaman the Syrian, a foreigner and general of an enemy army, is healed after the prophet Elisha directs him to bathe in the Jordan River.
Rivers are also places where people encounter God. Jacob famously wrestles all through the night with God along the banks of a river. As we read last week, Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River and then visited by the Holy Spirit and God’s voice from heaven.
One of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s most frequently quoted scripture passages brings to mind a river. Part of Amos’ vision of God’s judgement, instead of festivals and offerings and songs of praise, God says that the people should “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24, CEB). As Dr. King reminded us, the prophet’s vision is one where the people act justly in the world as an act of praise. This vision of justice and hope flowing into the world is echoed in our reading today of the kingdom of God that is still coming into the world.
Of course, it is important for us to remember that these Biblical rivers are not just metaphorical. While Amos may be using the flowing waters as a metaphor, the other rivers are connected to real places, real rivers. The Jordan is a real river. The four rivers that flow from the Garden are real rivers in southwest Asia. The people of the Bible encountered God alongside real rivers. They depended on real rivers for life and other things just as we still do today.
As you may recall from science class, rivers are important to God’s creation as a way of spreading nutrients from one place to another. They fertilize and provide water for farmlands. Plants and animals rely on rivers for food and water or even as a place to live. In addition to food and water, people have used water for millennia to get from one place to another. Rivers are important to our lives and our well-being.
A short distance from the church I currently serve, a life-giving river flows by. The Chattahoochee River starts up in the mountains north of Helen, GA. It fills Lake Lanier, crosses the northern part of Georgia, and continues south to eventually flow into the Gulf of Mexico as part of the Apalachicola River. The people of north Georgia enjoy the river in a variety of ways. It meanders along farmlands in the community I serve and provides water to much of the region. Like many others, I have hiked along the banks of the river nearby or gone rafting down the river on the northside of Atlanta. Others regularly go tubing on the river up near Helen or take a boat out onto one of the lakes along the river like Lake Lanier or Lake West Point. And many people spend their days fishing one part of the river or another.
Think of all that this river provides to our area. Think of all the ways in which the people of north Georgia rely on this river. It provides water, food, and even transportation. Dams along the river are used to create electricity. The river also provides us with recreational opportunities. And this is only one river in our part of the world. Rivers all over this country and this world do the same thing.
Because of all that rivers provide for us, it is important to take care of them as a part of God’s creation that we have been tasked with caring for. Beyond the Biblical mandate, we must also remember that we require fresh water for our very existence. While there are many options for food and many ways in which we can adapt to various climates and regions, water is something for which there is no other option.
And so we care for what God has provided. We care for this resource on which we rely. For many of us, this care takes place at home. We take care not to overuse water and are careful of what we add to it. When fishing or enjoying our rivers, we are careful not to throw our trash in the river.
Other times, more organization is needed. Some of you may have heard of the Chattahoochee Riverkeepers. The first group of Riverkeepers started along the Hudson River in New York state. It was a group of volunteers, mainly fishermen, who were concerned with pollution and the misuse of the area’s waterways. This grassroots organization of citizens expanded from New York, eventually becoming part of the Waterkeepers Alliance, a worldwide network of people dedicated to protecting the waterways on which we all depend for food, transportation, and clean drinking water. Here in Georgia, the Chattahoochee Riverkeeper association helps to ensure the Chattahoochee River remains clean for our present and our future.
Water is essential to our well-being in so many ways. From food to water to transportation to recreation, rivers add much to our life. And perhaps, like some of our Biblical forebears, you have had a divine encounter along the banks of a river. Maybe you have watched the power of a flowing river and imagined God’s justice flowing into our world. Or maybe rivers have provided you a place of healing and safety.
Historically, this idea of healing, protection, and salvation has been more than a metaphorical idea. From rivers used as a defensive feature of a city or a fortress, to rivers literally being a means of escape and salvation. In our nation’s history, we have at times been on the wrong side of salvation. From the colonial practice of taking land away from the peoples that were here first to the practice of enslaving others based solely on the color of their skin, we as a nation have much to atone for.
During parts of that history, rivers provided a place of gathering and a place of salvation to those who had been enslaved. Rivers became an escape route, a place to travel without leaving a scent, a place to find freedom.
The song I have chosen for reflection today likely has its origins as a slave song about escape and salvation. Slaves were known to sing songs containing coded messages for each other. It doesn’t take much imagination to hear a song about going down to the river to pray as a song about finding freedom. It is not hard to think about the starry crown of the sky overhead and the Lord God showing the way to freedom.
As this song became more common in church settings, it has also been sung during outdoor baptisms, particularly those taking place by a river. Some of you may have seen the movie, “O Brother, Where Art Thou” which contains a scene exactly like this, with a group of people going down to the water’s edge to be baptized while singing this song.
Whether seeking physical escape from literal bondage or spiritual escape from the bonds of sin, rivers offer us a passage to salvation. Rivers offer us life, sometimes new life. Rivers are a part of God’s creation that provide for so many of our needs.
As you listen to this song, remember the importance of the many rivers in our world. Remember our dependence on all that God has provided. And remember our call to be good stewards of all that we have been given.
The one who calls us to the river offers salvation freely to us all.
Two weeks ago, we started the Season of Creation with the book of Genesis and the trees and forests that God has surrounded us with. Last week, we saw Jesus foretelling his death and resurrection as we considered the land that God has created. This week, Matthew takes us to the beginning of Jesus’ ministry (see Matthew 3:13-4:2).
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In our text today, Jesus comes to John in order to be baptized. They have a conversation about John’s worthiness to baptize Jesus. John thinks Jesus should be baptizing him, not the other way around. Jesus tells him that in order to fulfill all righteousness, John must baptize him. So John relents and does as Jesus asks.
As Jesus comes out of the water, the heavens open and the Spirit descends like a dove. Then a voice from heaven claims Jesus as God’s son. Immediately, the Spirit drives him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. Jesus fasted in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights.
There are several connections in this story not only to creation but also to the salvation stories of the Hebrew people. Jesus' passage through the water calls to mind both the waters of creation as well as the Hebrews’ passage through the Red Sea. The descending dove calls to mind the animals that God created as well as the dove in the flood story. Jesus’ time in the wilderness calls to mind the wild places that God has created as well as the Hebrews’ forty years in the wilderness.
And though we could go any of these directions as we consider God’s creation, it is to the wilderness we will travel today.
When you hear the word wilderness, what is the first thing to come to mind for you? What does wilderness mean to you?
Regardless of how we might define wilderness, the wilderness figures prominently in many Bible stories. As already mentioned, the Hebrew people spent forty years wandering in the wilderness. The prophets Elijah and Elisha spent time wandering in the wilderness. The ministry of John the Baptizer took place in the wilderness.
For the Hebrew people we encounter in the Bible, as with many ancient cultures, wilderness would have referred to a desolate or isolated place away from settlements. While the words of C-3PO when he looks on the sands of Tatooine and utters, “What a desolate place this is” may be the first thing to come to mind, wilderness is not necessarily devoid of plant and animal life. But it would be a place sufficiently far from settlements to be beyond easy access to food and aid in the event of danger. It is a place where people might expect to become prey, either to wildlife or to criminals. It is a place that is not necessarily hospitable to human life.
In many of the Bible stories, just as we find here in Matthew, the wilderness is a place of wandering and preparation. It is a place of cleansing and of discovery. For the Hebrew people who escaped Egypt, the wilderness was a place where they were cleansed and prepared for entry into the Promised Land. For the desert mothers and fathers of the early Christian tradition, the wilderness was a place of isolation where they strengthened their faith and reliance on God. In our story today, for Jesus, the wilderness is a place of temptation and preparation for the ministry that he had been called to.
For those of us living in the world today, many of us speak of times of isolation, longing, and growth as wilderness times. Like Jesus, we still seek isolation and solitude as an avenue to “find ourselves.” We may go into times of temptation in order to strengthen ourselves for greater trials to come. For many of us today, this is not a journey into a literal wilderness, but a journey into a social or spiritual wilderness. In some cases, a silent retreat might take on this role. It becomes a time when we strive for silence even as we might be tempted to talk that teaches us to rely more heavily on God. Or, for those who practice a Lenten fast, the temptation of participating in the activity or food that is being given up teaches us to rely more heavily on God.
But in other times it may be a time for retreat into a physical wilderness. Each year, thousands of people attempt to hike the 2,000 mile Appalachian Trail. This is out of the millions that hike some portion of it each year. Across the United States, other similar trails lead hikers through isolated areas in all sorts of terrains. Speak to any of these people, and they will likely talk about the experience in spiritual language. They are places of personal and spiritual growth where the beauty of God’s creation can be at once dangerous and inspiring.
For the peoples of Europe and the native peoples of North America, wolves were a very real threat for much of history. In other parts of the world, bears, tigers, and crocodiles still pose a regular threat to people today. In Jesus’ time, an encounter with dangerous animals was a very real threat while traveling through the wilderness. The further away one gets from human settlements and regular human travel, the more dangerous it becomes.
At the same time, the idea of wilderness evokes a sense of beauty, of nature untouched and untamed by human hands. For many of us today, this may be what we think of when we hear the word wilderness. We think of places like the Cohutta wilderness here in Georgia or the Gates of the Arctic wilderness in Alaska. These are places of protected lands and creatures where development is restricted, places that are allowed to live and grow with limited human interference. These tend to be some of the most naturally beautiful places we can imagine.
We see this type of beauty as well in our protected park lands, such as Yosemite or Yellowstone National Parks. While regularly managed and controlled by humanity’s touch, these areas are still places of wild lands and wild creatures, of great beauty and a touch of danger. They are places where we can see the beauty of God’s creation first hand, in some cases thoroughly removed from the creations of people.
These wilderness areas are places where we can often leave behind the vestiges of civilization for a time. We can turn off our phones and the other distractions we carry with us on a daily basis and allow ourselves to be inspired by the beauty of God’s handiwork. They are places where we can refresh our souls and renew our spirits. They are places where the pace of life slows down from the hustle and bustle of the lives that many of us lead.
As the most significant signs of God’s handiwork left to us, it is important to preserve and protect these areas. In an age where too many people only value a place’s monetary worth, our wilderness areas are in danger of becoming polluted and broken. The search for resources such as lumber, oil, and gold put these areas at risk. But once they are destroyed, it could take millennia for them to heal.
As we learned two weeks ago as we looked at the creation of the Garden, God values beauty. God created all the beautiful trees. God wants us to enjoy that beauty as well. There is a value in beauty, in wilderness, that no price tag can ever capture.
This is one of the reasons why still today, people go out into the wilderness. They go into the wilderness seeking beauty. And in the process, many people return from the wilderness with a better understanding of themselves.
It is this idea of journeying through the wilderness searching for ourselves that inspires the song choice this week. In the song, “A Horse With No Name,” the band America considers a man on a journey to find himself. He finds a land full of life and other things even as it is a place of isolation. It is a place where one can finally hear themselves without the interruptions and distractions of life we find in the center of civilization.
And it is easy to hear this song in connection with the scripture today and imagine the changes that Jesus went through on his own journey in the wilderness. Yes, Jesus went seeking spiritual growth, but there would have been physical consequences as well. In the song, we see the physical changes that the narrator goes through over nine days.
First he takes notice of the wildlife that exists; this place is not empty. But he also notes the heat and the lack of clouds in the sky. By the second day, his skin has begun to burn under the onslaught of the sun. On the third day he discovers a river bed that has long been dry that brings to mind the death that all will experience eventually. By the ninth day, it sounds as if the narrator has begun to hallucinate, whether from heat or exhaustion we can’t be sure. Nine days in the wilderness and this man is burned by the sun, reminded of death, and begins to hallucinate.
And then we look to Jesus’ story and realize he spent forty days in the wilderness. What would this have been like? How would he have been changed by that experience? While we know the three temptations that concluded Jesus’ journey in the wilderness, we don’t know what the daily temptations looked like. All we really know is that the text says after forty days and nights, he was hungry
As you listen to the song below, consider what the wilderness means to us today. What is to become of the remaining areas of unspoiled beauty? What is to become of these reminders of God’s work in the world? Where are those places in our world today that you can go to refresh your soul and renew yourself for the call that God has placed on your life?
This week we continue our look at God's creation. God has provided us with beauty and abundance. God has provided us with beautiful and fruitful trees. And God has provided us with the land beneath our feet.
While we opened with a text from Genesis last week, today we find a much different scripture. In the Gospel of Matthew, we find Jesus foretelling his death and resurrection and speaking of the earth in which he will lie for three days (see Matthew 12:28-40).
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At first, this seems like an odd scripture for us to continue our conversation about Creation and our place in it. After all, last week, we took our text from the beginning of creation, from the book of Genesis and the creation of humans and the Garden, as we thought about the trees and forests that are a part of the world that God has placed us in. This week we turn to land, to soil, to the very earth on which we walk, and we find Jesus foreshadowing his death and resurrection.
This twelfth chapter of Matthew sees Jesus and his disciples doing what needs to be done, even as they run afoul of the religious authorities for ignoring certain parts of the religious Law. At the start of the chapter, Jesus’ disciples are hungry, so they gather grains from the field. It happens to be the Sabbath day, so they are chided for working on the Sabbath.
Following this, Jesus entered the synagogue and the Pharisees brought a man with a withered hand to Jesus. They questioned Jesus about whether or not it is lawful to heal someone on the Sabbath, again showing more concern for the Law than for the needs of those around them. Of course, Jesus knows full well what they are doing. After making the point that anyone is allowed to do what is good on the Sabbath, he heals the man.
Jesus then went out amongst the crowds and began to heal all who were in need. At this point, the Pharisees accuse him of being in league with Satan, for who else could command the demons that Jesus is casting out.
Maybe you are beginning to sense a pattern here. The Pharisees cannot believe that one who flaunts the religious Law could possibly be from God. Finally, they demand a sign. If you are truly who you say you are, show us a sign that will prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. But Jesus knows as well as you do at this point that there is nothing he can do that will satisfy them. He has been among them, performing signs and miracles, healing those who are in need. And yet they do not believe. If they do not already believe after all he has already done, what sign could he show them that they would believe?
And so he answers them that they will receive one certain sign, and here he makes his comparison to Jonah. As you may know, Jonah had received a calling from God to go to Nineveh to proclaim God’s judgement on them. Instead, Jonah tried to run away. He boarded a ship bound for a far off shore. But the ship became mired in bad weather, and Jonah eventually wound up in the belly of a great fish for three days, before he was spat back out onto the land. In the same way, Jesus says, the Son of Man will reside in the belly of the earth for three days before coming forth again.
Of course, the Pharisees that are questioning Jesus have no idea what this means, but we can look back and see that he is telling them what sign to watch for. Watch for the one who is buried and rises again. That is the only sign you will receive.
Now I could go on in this vein for a while, but that is not really the focus for us this week. Our focus is on the land, and so we look at what it is that Jesus foretold, the time between his death and his resurrection. We begin our conversation today with the time that Jesus spent in the belly of the earth.
Because Jesus compares this time to the time that Jonah spent in the belly of the fish, that is where we start as well. What do these two things have in common? As I considered this link, my first thought was that both of these things constitute a pause. It is a pause that ultimately brings the person in the story to their destination. It is a necessary pause even as it is an unwelcome one. Who wants to be swallowed by a fish and live three days in its belly? Who wants to die and spend three days in the ground, even if resurrection is on the other side? It reminds me of talking with my boys about some of the spiders and snakes that live around our home. Just because it won’t kill me doesn’t mean I want to get bit.
But even as it may be unwelcome or unwanted, we find that these pauses that Jonah and Jesus experience lead to something greater. For Jonah, his time in the whale gave him the opportunity to grow, to consider what it was he was called to do, and to emerge ready to follow the path placed before him. In the same way, Jesus was planted in the ground, he spent a time in the earth sufficient to overcome death, and then he arose renewed from the land. He rose from the ground with renewed purpose. He rose from the ground ready to complete the task that God had placed before him.
Perhaps now we can begin to make the connection here to the land that God has created. The ground supports us. It is in the soil that we plant our crops and grow our food. Last week, my wife, April, planted some seeds in our garden at home, and within three days some of the seeds had already sprouted, bursting forth from the earth and ready to fulfill their purpose.
In the Gospel of John, Jesus even tells a parable about seeds that sounds eerily similar. He tells how the seed must fall into the ground and die in order to grow into the stalk of wheat. He is using a process that would have been familiar to the agrarian society he was speaking to to make a point about our relationship with God. At the same time, he is also highlighting the importance of the land in that process. The wheat will not grow if it does not go into the soil. The fish may have accomplished what was needed for Jonah, but Jesus had to go into the earth for three days to accomplish what was needed.
So many things grow in the ground. For this reason, the land is important to us. God created the earth on which we walk, the land on which we live, the soil in which we plant our crops. Our lives are intimately tied to the land.
And yet, as with most of our relationships, our relationship with the land is complicated. If you were to ask people where hell is located, most of them would likely point down to the ground. The ground is where we plant our crops, but it is also where we bury our dead. Many people have a fear of going into the ground.
In our mythologies and fairy tales, there are always realms beneath the ground, and they are often sources of danger. For those of you who are familiar with Tolkien, you may recall Gandalf’s search for a path over the mountains so that he would not have to go through the deeps of Moria. He fears what lies under the ground. Even as the ground, the land that we thrive on, provides for us, it can also be a source of fear.
To complicate this relationship with the land even further, our modern day culture tends to drive us away from the land. In many ways, our common notions of status are measured by our distance from the land. We tend to value those members of society or those cultures in our world that are further removed from the land on which we rely, while those that live most closely with the land, from farmers to migrant workers to native cultures, are looked down upon or considered less worthy in our culture.
But Jesus’ words and actions show us that he does not shy away from the land. He spends time among farmers and fishermen. He follows the route that leads him to three days in the earth. He accepts this as part of his ministry. He knows that God created the earth, the land, and made all the things that grow from it. The land is important to us, even if our general culture has lost sight of that at times. This land, that God has provided us, gives us all that we might need. This land that God created provides enough for all of God’s people and creatures.
As I reflected on the topic this week, I was struck by the different ways we talk about land. Sometimes when we speak of the land, we mean the ground, the earth, the soil, the place where we plant our crops and grow our food. But other times we mean a homeland, a country or a nation. We use land as a sign of belonging and security. And sometimes when we talk about land, it is difficult to tell which of these notions we have in mind.
As I thought about this, a song immediately came to mind. Originally written and recorded in the 1940s by Woody Guthrie, this song has been sung by multiple artists over the years. It appears in collections of folk songs and music for kids. “This Land Is Your Land” is a song that probably all of us are familiar with. Some of us may only know the more common verses, and some of us may know all of them. In this song, Woody talks about how the land unites us together, how the land provides for us. He tells a story of beauty, and he challenges some of the disparities that exist in our world in relation to the land.
As he sings about the land, the meanings wind together, and we can’t always be certain if he is singing of homeland, of nation, or simply the land on which we live and move and depend from day to day. But it is clear that he has an appreciation for the creation that surrounds us, for the bounty that it provides, and for the ways in which we are all united by it.
I invite you to listen to the recording below that blends the voices of Woody and his son, Arlo. As you do, I want you to think about the land that God has created. I want you to think about the land that God has placed you on. And I want you to remember the importance of this land for you, for me, and for all of God’s children that we share this world with.
This week begins the Season of Creation for 2020. This season began to be recommended by the World Council of Churches starting in 2008. It is an ecumenical celebration of God as creator, of this beautiful creation that God has made us a part of, and of our call as stewards of that creation.
On this first Sunday, we look at the second telling of the creation story. In Genesis 2, we hear about the creation of the first human as well as the creation of the Garden in which the human was replaced (see Genesis 2:4b-9 and 15-17). In this Garden, God created trees of beauty and fruitfulness.
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I am guessing that many of you may be familiar with the more traditional seasons of the church year. After all, I’ve noticed that your bulletins before I came here often included a short note about the liturgical seasons and colors. I would guess that most of you know at least something about Advent and Lent, our seasons of preparation for the big celebrations of Christmas and Easter. And, of course, everyone knows Christmas and Easter, though some may not know that they are seasons in the church year as well, extending beyond the single day celebrations our culture often suggests. The rest of the year is given over to Ordinary time, a season split in two that covers over half of the calendar year. Technically it is one big broken up season though it is sometimes treated as a season of Epiphany and a season of Pentecost.
If we were gathered together in person today, I would ask if anyone knows why it is called Ordinary time. I am certain that you have your own ideas and thoughts about the meaning of the word ordinary. Maybe you’re wondering what in the world that has to do with the church year.
As it turns out, the word ordinary originally meant ordered or numbered. If you’ve ever heard of ordinal numbers, it is the same root. Ordinary time gets its name from the way the Sundays are numbered in a series. Ironically, our current understanding of ordinary as commonplace or even uninteresting probably grows out of people’s experience of ordinary time in the church.
But I digress just a little. You may have noticed that the Season of Creation was not named as one of the traditional seasons of the church year. That is because it is a relatively recent optional addition to the church year.
In the calendar of the saints that is followed by many Christians in the Western world, the feast day of St. Francis of Assissi falls on October 4 each year. Among other things, St. Francis is the patron saint of animals and ecology. Due to his purported love for nature and God's creatures, his feast day has been used as a time for the blessing of animals and to remember our call to care for all of creation.
In the Eastern Christian tradition, the church year begins on September 1 with a commemoration of God’s creation of the world. During the heightened awareness of our need to care for the environment in the late-80s, September 1 was also declared a day of prayer for the environment in the Eastern church.
In 2008, the World Council of Churches began to encourage all denominations to celebrate the period from September 1 to October 4 as a “Time for Creation.” During this season we focus on God as creator and on this wonderful world that God has created and made us a part of. We also consider our place in this world and our call to be stewards of all that God has created.
As we begin our conversation about creation, there is no better place to start than the book of Genesis. In our reading today from the second telling of the creation of the world, God creates the first human. God formed the human from the fertile land and breathed life into him. Then God planted a garden full of every beautiful tree with edible fruit. Afterward, God placed the man in the garden to both farm it and to take care of it.
Even though we read only a few verses, there is much here to draw on. Our theme for this first week is the forests, and there are a few obvious connections here to the trees that God planted and made to grow. God created a garden full of trees, beautiful trees, fruitful trees, trees full of edible fruit.
From the very beginning, God has provided for us. God has surrounded us with plenty. God fills the garden with edible fruit, and when God places the man in the garden, the man is commanded to “eat your fill from all the garden’s trees” except for the one that is forbidden. Humanity is surrounded by trees full of edible fruit.
But our verses show us that God cares about more than mere sustenance. God filled the garden with beautiful trees. Have you ever taken time to simply wander through a forest? This weekend, my family and I have been staying in a cabin up in the mountains. The cabin is surrounded by trees, and everyday we pick a different mountain trail to follow. Sometimes on the trail, I simply stop and stare around at the beauty around us.
Now even though this reference to the trees in the garden is the most obvious connection between today’s scripture and our creation theme today, there is another connection that we might easily miss. After God formed the first human, God “blew life’s breath into his nostrils” (Genesis 2:7, CEB). It is the granting of God’s breath that creates life. God has breathed into us the breath of life. In ancient Hebrew, the word for breath and the word for Spirit are the same. It is the blessing of God’s Spirit breathed into us that grants us life.
In a similar way, we rely on our forests today for the air that we breathe. The earth’s forests have been referred to as the planet’s lungs. The forests of the world take in carbon dioxide and release the oxygen that animals need to survive back into the atmosphere. God gave humanity a start with the life-giving breath in our nostrils, and the forests of our world continue to provide us with the life-giving air that we breathe and need to survive.
Through forests, God grants us beauty and food and even the breath of life. In return, God tells us to farm the land and take care of it. For some of us, we may literally farm the land around us. From small raised-bed gardens to multi-acre plantings, we are familiar with the notion of farming the land around us. And those that live close to the land know all about caring for the soil and the plants that they grow. But we also know that our care for God’s creation doesn’t end at the edge of our crop-producing plot of land.
Back in the middle of the twentieth century, the US Forest Service began to take a greater interest in forest fires. They had seen the devastation to life and property that could be caused by a bit of carelessness. After the success of Disney’s Bambi and the portrayal of the fire in that movie, the Forest Service developed their own cartoon character. Smokey Bear has been an institution for over 70 years. All of us know the slogan by heart. “Only you can prevent forest fires.” It’s a catchy reminder that we are the ones called to care for the forests that surround us.
For those of us who are Christian, we shouldn’t need the extra reminder. It doesn’t hurt, but we have our reminder right here in Genesis. God settled us in the garden and told us to farm it and to take care of it. Perhaps the place we find ourselves today is not the literal Eden. But we are still surrounded by God’s beauty. We are still surrounded by the abundance of God’s creation. Whether it is the literal Eden or not, we have an obligation to care for it.
As we go forward into this season of creation, a season in which we honor the creator of all that exists and remember our connection to all that God has created, I am reminded of the places in Scripture where we are told that all of creation glorifies God. Sometimes when we hear this, we think of the beauty and majesty of creation as an example of God’s magnificence. At other times, Scripture tells us that all of creation literally sings praise to God. In Isaiah 44 we read, “Sing, heavens, for the Lord has acted; shout, depths of the earth! Burst out with a ringing cry, you mountains, forest, and every tree in it.” In Isaiah 55 we read, “all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” Perhaps today we can think of ourselves as worshiping our Creator alongside the rest of creation. Like the forests we can burst out with a ringing cry. Like the trees, we can clap our hands with joy. We can join together with all that has been created in honoring our God, for God created the rest of creation as surely as God created us.
But we must also remember that God created all of humanity as well. In the beginning, we were created, and God blew the breath of life into us. Then God placed us in a garden surrounded by beauty and plenty to eat. From that first human, all of us are descended, not just those of us here in this place. Not just those that look and think and believe as we do. God created all that is, and it is our place in creation that unites us all to one another. We all live under the same sky, drink the same water, enjoy the same beauty and resources that God has provided. This world is our home, the garden that God has placed us in. God has provided all of this to feed us and nurture us. And God has asked us to both enjoy it and to care for it.
While it doesn’t exactly speak of forests, one of my favorite hymns speaks to our place in God’s creation. It speaks of our connection to what God has created as well as our connection to each other. “This Is My Song” is found in The United Methodist Hymnal, and it is one I have loved for years. As we listen to this song today, I want us to be reminded of the beauty and plenty that God has surrounded us with, I want us to be reminded of our connection to one another, and I want us to remember our call to care for all that God has created.