Our season of waiting and expectation is almost done. The final Sunday of Advent. The final Sunday before Christmas. The next time we gather together, it will be to celebrate the birth of Christ. We gather at Christmas to celebrate God coming into the world, tearing down the ultimate barrier between us. But we’ll get to that next time.
Today, we continue to think about what it is that we are waiting for. What is it that we are hoping for? What does God coming into the world mean to us?
Our readings for today paint a certain picture for us (see Micah 5:2-5a and Luke 1:39-55). In today’s readings, we see God choosing the least likely. Our readings show God choosing those who would be considered weak, outcast, marginalized as those most deserving of honor. Our readings show God giving preferential treatment to those most in need. Our readings show us that God does not choose the ones that our culture tends to tell us we are supposed to value.
For most of the month of October, we read through Mark 10. Throughout chapter 10, Jesus is regularly questioned by those he encounters -- the legal experts, his disciples, and even strangers he meets along the way. All of this was taking place as Jesus began his journey toward Jerusalem and all that would happen there.
Last week, we jumped ahead to Mark 12. We skipped over chapter 11 because it sees the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem riding on the back of a colt (a story we normally reserve for Palm Sunday), the cleansing of the Temple, and other encounters with the priests and scribes (normally read during Holy Week). But this time of year, we are focused instead on the kingdom of God and what it looks like, so we continue to look at the ways in which Jesus is questioned. Last week saw Mark’s version of the Great Commandment story, with Jesus being questioned by one of legal experts about which commandment is the most important or the greatest.
We are of course familiar with this story. It is the grounding of our lives as Christians and as members of this local congregation. Love God with all that we are, and love your neighbor as yourself. According to Jesus, and even the lawyer who is questioning him, nothing in the Hebrew scriptures is more important. Even more tellingly, the legal expert notes that no religious practice or ritual is as important as these two points. Following this, Jesus makes a somewhat cryptic pronouncement about the identity of the Messiah before we come to today’s reading (Mark 12:38-44).
As we come into the summer months, I've been thinking about faith. Specifically, I've been considering the difference between our faith and God's faithfulness. I don't say this to judge anyone's faith; we each know the truth about our personal faith. But no matter how strong (or not) we may feel our faith is, we can rest sure in the fact that God remains faithful.
This week, we consider a sometimes misunderstood text in Mark (see Mark 3:20-35). Here is Mark, we find Jesus defending his ministry against the scribes who are trying to demonize him and highlighting the new family that God has made out of those who are in ministry with Christ. Through this text, we consider a faith that loves us, that draws us together, that joins us together with people from different backgrounds into a new family joined by a common cause.
* * *
Our story today begins shortly after Jesus has appointed the Twelve. Mark lists out the names of the apostles, even giving us a subtle hint that Peter, James, and John are the closest to Jesus. Jesus has been traveling the countryside followed by his disciples and casting out unclean spirits. From among his disciples, he called the Twelve and appointed them “to be sent out to proclaim the message, and to have authority to cast out demons” (Mark 3:14-15, NRSV).
This is what is going on as we come to the story today. Jesus has been doing the ministry for which he is best known -- teaching, healing, casting out unclean spirits. Crowds of people are following him from all over Judea. We get the impression that it is difficult for Jesus to keep up with the crowds. The disciples must keep a boat nearby so that Jesus can escape to the water if the crowds become too intense. And then we are told they come to a house but are unable to sit and eat due to the number of people surrounding them.
It makes sense that he would have wanted to share his ministry with the Twelve. Together, they would be able to reach more people. Together, they can spread the news farther, heal more people, cast out more unclean spirits. With Jesus guiding them, there is no end to what they can accomplish together.
Mark then sets up an interesting dynamic. We are told that Jesus’ family comes to restrain him, having heard people saying that Jesus is out of his mind. Those who knew him before he took up his ministry are concerned about the things that Jesus has been saying, though probably not for the reasons we might assume. Their fear most likely stems from a fear of him being seized by the authorities.
Though the official celebration of the Ascension was this past Thursday, many churches celebrate this event on this Sunday. Looking at the summary of this event s found in the first chapter of Acts (see Acts 1:1-11), we consider Jesus' parting words to the disciples who were present that day. What did it mean for them to watch Jesus go up into the heavens? What did he expect from them? What does it mean for us still today?
* * *
On this Sunday we celebrate Jesus’ ascension into heaven. Traditionally, the Feast of the Ascension was actually this past Thursday, forty days after Easter Sunday. Our Scripture today tells us that Jesus appeared to the disciples over a period of forty days, and so the celebration in the church follows that statement literally.
Of course, if you read even a few of the more well-known Bible stories, you know that the number forty occurs frequently -- the flood that lasted forty days and forty nights, the forty years that the Israelites spent in the wilderness, the forty days that Moses spent on the mountain with God, the forty days that Jesus spent fasting in the wilderness after his baptism. It occurs frequently enough that we might begin to suspect that the number is being used in a figurative sense instead of a literal one. Kind of like when we say “the last time I saw you, you were knee high to a grasshopper” we simply mean someone was much smaller the last time we saw them, the number forty as it appears in scripture seems to represent a lengthy period of time. I have heard it said that it is meant to represent a time sufficient for things to happen -- the flood lasted long enough to accomplish its purpose, the Israelites wandered in the desert long enough for God’s purposes to be served, Jesus spent long enough with the disciples for them to be prepared for what was next.
This week, we turn from the stories of Jesus' post-Resurrection appearances to his disciples to a look at how those appearances affected his disciples. After encountering Jesus in the flesh, the disciples were energized. They went forth to carry the message far and wide. Letters, like the one we read today, give us a glimpse into the message that they spread across the Empire and beyond (see 1 John 3:16-24).
* * *
As you know, over the past few weeks, we have been focusing primarily on the post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus. We’ve heard the story of Mary Magdalene and Peter at the empty tomb and Jesus’ appearance to Mary, we touched on Jesus’ appearance to the disciples on the Emmaus road, heard that Jesus appeared to Peter, and then we’ve read two different version of Jesus’ first appearance to the gathered disciples.
One of the things we have noted is that these appearances of Jesus to the disciples has been an opportunity for Jesus to continue their teaching. Not only has he shown up to prove that he is in fact alive, he also reminds them of all the things he has taught them. And he has reinforced the key teachings that he wants them to remember above all others.
Last week, I pointed out how part of the reason for this is that Jesus is preparing them to go out and spread his teachings. After all, they are witnesses to all that Jesus has said and done. They are witnesses to his resurrection. He needs them to know what to focus on.
In fact, Jesus started this before his death on the cross. In the final week after he entered Jerusalem, his teaching took on a greater focus and intensity. He knew that his time with the disciples was drawing to a close. He tried to tell them. He tried to help them understand. They simply could not comprehend a Messiah who dies, a king who sacrifices himself.
At the last supper, he gives them a new commandment -- to love one another as he has loved them. When he appears to them again a few days later, even though he speaks of forgiveness and repentance, his disciples surely remembered that earlier teaching. When he tells them that they are witnesses who will go forth to tell others, everything they had heard from him is framed by these points -- love, forgiveness, and repentance.
In the last two weeks, we have touched briefly on what happened after the disciples had their post-resurrection encounters with Jesus. They spread the word of Jesus to the edges of the known world and beyond. While their ministry appears to have remained centered in Jerusalem with James as a key leader, other disciples went in other directions. We know that Thomas is said to have traveled east into parts of Asia, rumored to have traveled at least as far as India and perhaps farther. Matthew is rumored to have traveled to Ethiopia. Jude is recognized as having gone to Armenia. Peter traveled to Greece and some traditions hold that he traveled as far as Rome. Paul seems to have traveled throughout the Mediterranean, with letters written to communities he started in present-day Turkey, Greece, and Italy. There are some traditions that hold that he may have traveled as far as Spain. All of this because they had an experience of meeting Jesus in the flesh after his death. They were strengthened by their encounter with the resurrected Jesus.
Our letter today is attributed to the gospel writer we know as John, one of the original twelve apostles. For his part, tradition tells us that John spent the remainder of his ministry in the eastern Mediterranean. He appears to have been most revered in the western part of modern day Turkey, particularly in the region around Ephesus. Tradition also tells us that he was the only one of the Twelve to die of natural causes, living a long life in that region.
It is not difficult to see the commonalities between the writer of the letter we read from today and the gospel writer. In fact, the first verse of our reading today is nearly an analogue of John 3:16, a verse that so many of us know by heart. Our reading today seems to summarize that more famous verse: “This is how we know love: Jesus laid down his life for us…” (1 John 3:16a, CEB).
Immediately following this verse, the letter writer makes it clear what this means in action. He takes it beyond the realm of the abstract. We touched briefly last week on what the message was that the disciples spread as they went on their many journeys and travels to other places. Here we get to see that message.
Our writer first suggests that just as Jesus laid down his life for us, we ought to lay down our lives for each other. This for him is what it means to love each other. But he helpfully goes on to show that this isn’t only about sacrificing out physical bodies to death. Perhaps that is the ultimate example we see in Jesus, but through the rest of this section, we see that this is not the only way we might interpret laying down our lives for each other. If we have the means and see someone in need but refuse to help them, then we are not showing love to them. The love of God is not in us.
John goes on to say, “let’s not love with words or speech but with actions and truth” (1 John 3:18, CEB). He makes it clear that love is about more than thoughts and words; love is active. Don’t just say the words, but put the words into action.
It reminds me of a song in one of my wife’s favorite musicals. Now, I didn’t really grow up with many musicals, at least not unless it was an animated Disney film. But my wife loves musicals. As far as she is concerned, life should be like a musical, with people just randomly breaking into song as they go about their everyday business.
One of her favorite musicals is My Fair Lady. Maybe some of you are familiar with the story. A renowned linguist makes a bet that he can train a poor, unrefined woman from the streets of London into a lady fit to circulate in high society and even appear before the Queen. Toward the end of the story, a high class young man who has become enamored with the young woman professes his love with flowery imagery. Her response is to essentially sing that words are meaningless. “Don't talk of stars/Burning above/If you're in love/Show me.” Eliza doesn’t want to hear the words; she wants action. Let your actions speak for you.
Perhaps some of you have heard the quote attributed to Saint Francis of Assissi: “Preach the gospel daily, and if necessary use words.” It is the same idea our reading today suggests. Our actions speak the truth more loudly than any words we might use.
Our reading continues with another reminder of the gospel writer by saying,” This is how we will know that we belong to the truth…” (1 John 3:19, CEB). This calls to mind Jesus’ new commandment for the disciples at the last supper. “This is how everyone will know that you are my disciples, when you love each other” (John 13:35, CEB). Making the connection even more explicit, the letter continues by saying, “This is his commandment, that we believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and love each other as he commanded us” (1 John 3:23, CEB).
John wants us to remember that the heart of Jesus’ ministry is love. He also wants to make it clear that this isn’t simply some cerebral love. This is not merely a profession of love. It is love put into action. It is love that is kind and caring, love that is compassionate and involved in meeting the needs of others. For John, this is what love looks like.
For those of us living in a modern world where we might speak of loving pizza or loving a particular movie with the same language we might use for the love of a friend or family member, this can be particularly convicting. There are of course ways in which the feelings or emotions may have similarities. Our preferences for one type of thing over another may be similar to our preference of a particular person over another. On the other hand, french fries, no matter how much we might love them, will never be able to comprehend our feelings or have any other thoughts about us.
But the people in our lives and in the world around us can engage with us. And they will judge us on more than the words we use. If people are hurting, and we offer words of love without taking any action to ease their suffering, is that really love? If someone is in danger, and we offer them thoughts of well-being without doing anything to help them out of danger, have we shown them love?
In our modern world, the Church as a whole has gotten a certain reputation. Whether that reputation is deserved or not can be debated, but those who are not Christians base their understanding of the Church on the actions of those who are a part of it. When they see the Church saying that they promote love while at the same time acting in ways that show the opposite, what are people to believe?
It reminds me of a joke I saw on Facebook one time. The story goes that a police officer pulls a car over and asks to see the man’s license and registration. After confirming that the man is in fact the owner of the car, the police officer apologizes, saying, “I noticed the fish emblem and the John 3:16 bumper sticker on your car. Then I saw you cutting people off, shouting out your window at other drivers, and making obscene gestures. I just assumed the car must have been stolen.”
While the Church may have a certain reputation, this doesn't mean that the Church is all bad. Over and over I have seen members of many congregations put their words into action. I have seen members of the Church show love for their communities by supporting the most vulnerable. We, the Church in the world, have provided meals and gifts for those that might go without. We, the body of Christ, have offered physical and monetary support for our neighbors in need. We, believers, have shown our communities and our world that our love is more than words. I pray that no matter what the people who give the Church a bad reputation do, we will continue to be a living example of today’s text, that we can continue to be the loving presence of Jesus in our communities.
We always talk about "Doubting Thomas," but, in doing so, we ignore the fact that all of the male disciples were in the same boat. This week, we pick up where we left off last week. After the discovery of the empty tomb and Jesus' appearance to Mary Magdalene, a group of disciples has gathered together. We might imagine this is an opportunity for them all to talk about the stories they have heard -- the empty tomb and the further account that Mary shared after (see John 20:19-31).
And then Jesus is there among them.
How can we find good news for ourselves in the fact that the disciples grieved, lived in fear, and had doubts about the stories they wee hearing? How can we make sure that we are sharing the body of Christ with others that we might be empowered just as the disciples were?
* * *
Happy Easter! As we continue into this season, we will see that our Scriptures make clear that the joy of the Resurrection could not be confined to one day. And so it is that our celebration of Easter is not confined to a single Sunday. Instead, Easter lasts for seven weeks. The final Sunday of Easter is the day we know as Pentecost Sunday.
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.
* * *
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.
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.
* * *
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.
This week I wrap up this introductory series on how I understand my ministry as a deacon. Over the past few weeks, I have reflected on my core Biblical touchstone as well as the four areas of responsibility to which I have been ordained as a United Methodist deacon. It seemed only fair to borrow the title of the book, A Deacon's Heart, written by one of two of my mentors and professors, Margaret Ann Crain and Jack Seymour. Margaret Ann was part of the initial class of deacons ordained in 1996 under the current model of ministry. She helped me to explore and grow into a ministry that even today is not always well understood in many areas of The United Methodist Church. She helped me to see that I had a deacon's heart all along, even though I had no language for that when I started my path into ministry years ago.
Today, I reflect on the responsibility to lead the church in ministries of compassion. What does it mean to have compassion for others? Reading, Matthew 14:13-21, we get some idea of what compassion meant to Jesus and what it means for us to follow in his footsteps.
* * *
A month ago, the people of Andrews Chapel United Methodist Church and I joined together in ministry. I am slowly getting to know the people of the congregation, and I am trying to help them get to know me. I started this sermon series for the first few weeks of my time with them to help them learn a little more about how I approach ministry.
This week we return to the motif of light we picked up at Epiphany. Jesus comes into the world as a light to the nations. Over the last few weeks, we have looked at what this light can mean for us and considered what it means for us to continue to reflect that light to the world.
This week, we look at 1 Corinthians 3:1-9 as we consider growth. How does the light coming into the world help us to grow? And how do we in turn help others to grow?
* * *
I think it is interesting as we hear this text to think about how similar at times the early church actually was to how things remain today. I hear Paul questioning the church at Corinth that he had been instrumental in starting, and I think that some things never change. The third verse in particular feels so convicting: “When jealousy and fighting exist between you, aren’t you unspiritual and living by human standards?” It is almost like Paul had a crystal ball that allowed him to look ahead to the present day church in general. As we consider what is going on in our world, in our nation, even in our local congregations, it is hard not to feel like Paul is speaking directly to us.
The week we take a look at the Baptism of Jesus (see Isaiah 42:1-9 and Matthew 3:13-17). In his baptism, the voice from heaven makes it clear exactly who Jesus is and why he is here. The voice from heaven uses the same words as the prophet Isaiah, so we can look to Isaiah as a way of understanding all that is to come.
* * *
On the first Sunday after Epiphany, we typically celebrate the Baptism of the Lord. Some undisclosed amount of time after his birth, after the flight to Egypt and eventual return to Israel, after he has spent years growing up, we find Jesus baptized by his cousin John.
As you may recall, John was out in the wilderness preaching repentance and baptizing those who confessed their sins. It is to him that Jesus comes to be baptized. Some other time, perhaps we can debate why Jesus seeks out his cousin to be baptized. What did Jesus have to repent from? What sins did he need to confess?
At any rate, John tries to stop him. Surely Jesus needs to baptize him instead. But Jesus insists. And so John baptizes him in the river. As he comes up from the water, the heavens open and the Spirit of God descends like a dove to rest upon him. Then there is a voice from heaven which proclaims, “This is my Son, whom I dearly love; I find happiness in him” (Matthew 3:17).
As the liturgical year comes full circle, we celebrate the ongoing Reign of Christ. One of the texts for this Sunday in the lectionary cycle is Jeremiah 23:1-6, where God speaks through the prophet to condemn those who harm the flock and promises to raise up a righteous ruler who will gather and care for those that have been scattered.
So we look to our belief that Jesus is the fulfillment of these words and reflect on how his reign is different than our experience of earthly rulers. And we consider what it means to live in God's kingdom even as we live in earthly kingdoms.
* * *
On the final Sunday of the liturgical year, we come full circle and celebrate the end of the beginning. Over the course of the year, we have explored all that God has done and all that God has promised to do. We have traveled through the key events of the life of Jesus, from birth to death, from life to resurrection, from teaching to healing.
As we prepare to enter Advent again, we enter another season of expectation. We look back with reverence to the birth of Jesus, to God entering the world as one of us. And we look ahead to the second coming, to the ultimate fulfillment of all that God has promised. In the last few weeks, we have looked back even farther to remind ourselves of God’s creation and we have glimpsed the future that God is preparing for us.
But on the final Sunday before we start the cycle over, we are reminded that Jesus reigns - today and always. We are reminded of what it means today that Jesus is Lord. We are reminded of what God is doing in the world right now.
The liturgical year flows in a circle that constantly repeats itself. Over the course of each year, we take ourselves from the beginning of the Jesus story -- the one foretold by the prophets who has been here, who is risen, and who is still to come -- to the end of that story. We start this year off waiting for the birth of a baby, and we end up this year recognizing the kingship of that same child now risen to glory. For those of us that claim Christ, the story of Jesus' earthly ministry is only the beginning.
So we head into these last few weeks looking back so that we might see the path ahead. Drawing a bit on the structure of the liturgical year and a bit on Psalm 145 (see Psalm 145:1-5, 17-21), we consider what God has done, what that tells us about who God is, and what that means for what is to come.
Today, we wrapped up the series we have been working through for the last two months. Through this series, we have explored the ways in which God goes beyond the boundaries that surround us -- from national boundaries to interpersonal boundaries, and everything in between. Looking at Luke 13:10-17, we find that Jesus takes us beyond religious boundaries as well.
* * *
Borders and boundaries can make us feel safe. They make us feel comfortable. They let us know our limits and help define us. But Jesus frequently pushes beyond those boundaries in ways that made the people of his time uncomfortable and in ways that can still make us uncomfortable today.
Today we started worship off with a baptism for one of the newest members of our community. We then read Luke 12:49-56, one of the more challenging segments of Jesus' teachings. As Jesus has gone through his ministry, he has repeatedly returned to a message of peace, love, and relationship. But today, he says that he comes bringing not peace but division.
On any Sunday, this would be a difficult passage to wrestle with. But, while the text itself may not feel like a good fit with baptism, our celebration of this sacrament actually helps us interpret these words from Jesus. What happens when we commit ourselves to God before all others? What happens in our world when we love everyone, even those the world tells us to hate?
* * *
What a great, uplifting text for us on a day we celebrate baptism. Jesus comes not to bring peace. Instead his coming heralds division. Just what we need to hear on a day when we celebrate new life and our unity in the body of Christ.
What in the world does this have to do with the message that Jesus brought? Why would God come down, offering us relationship, teaching us to love each other, and then tell us he is bringing division and conflict into the world?
The Letter to the Hebrews was written at a time of persecution for believers. Written to those who were Hebrew believers who were considering returning to the Jewish faith to avoid continued persecution, it is offered as both encouragement and challenge. Today's text (see Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16) raises up some of those who have gone before us in faith to encourage us along the way. But it also leaves us with a question: What do earthly authorities and earthly borders mean to those who are citizens of God's kingdom?
* * *
Over the last few weeks, we have explored some of the ways that God reaches into our lives and challenges our assumptions. As Jesus was traveling the countryside teaching and healing people, he was also constantly reaching beyond the boundaries and barriers that people had erected between each other.
Every time we assume God is on our side and everyone else is wrong, we find an example to go against it. In the Old Testament, we found a general of a foreign nation that is openly hostile to Israel who is healed by God.
In the gospels, Jesus refuses to put a limit on those we are called to love. He centers a foreigner as the perfect example of a loving neighbor.
When we complain that other people are not acting like us, are not doing faith the way we are, Jesus points out that not all faith looks the same.
When we seek to know how to speak to God, when his disciples ask them how they should pray, Jesus shows us that God is neither a distant despot nor a cosmic butler. Instead, God is as close to us as family.
Today, our text offers us another challenge related to borders. In this letter written to a group of Hebrew believers, we are pointed toward the unseen and unknown. God rarely steps out in front of us and yells “here I am!” But we have faith and trust in those things that have been passed on to us. We have faith and trust in the stories of those that have come before. We have faith and trust in the word of God that came down to live among us. We have faith and trust in the evidence we see of God still working in the world today.
Today, we discussed the familiar parable most commonly known as the story of the Good Samaritan (see Luke 10:25-37) as we consider what it means to offer others kindness and compassion no matter their circumstances or our own. This week, our focus is on the actions of the Samaritan in the parable itself. This passage returns as the lectionary reading in a few weeks, and we will dig a bit more deeply into the ways in which Jesus is going beyond the expected boundaries at that time. For now, we turn to the kindness and compassion displayed by the Samaritan in this parable.
* * *
This past week, Newnan First UMC hosted kids from around our community for Vacation Bible School. Over the course of the week, these young people heard about God’s ability to go beyond all that we could hope for or imagine and stories from the Bible of those that went beyond what we would normally expect. In the course of these stories, we see that the results of going beyond expectations often far exceed what could possibly have been hoped for. As Ephesians 3:20 reminds us: “Glory to God, who is able to do far beyond all that we could ask or imagine by his power at work within us” (CEB)
Over the course of the month of June, we have been talking about these same themes in worship. At the beginning of the month, we heard about Daniel and the lion's den and going beyond with faith. Last week, we took a look at Queen Esther and going beyond with boldness. This week, we have the familiar story of the Good Samaritan and will focus on going beyond with kindness.
This is one of those stories that most Christians know by heart and that even many non-Christians have heard of. We even hear stories on the news of people described as a Good Samaritan when they do a good deed for someone else. One of the reasons for this is that we simply don’t expect this behavior. We have gotten to a point where we simply don’t expect people to be kind to others, so when someone does something compassionate or kind for someone else, we make a big deal out of it.
Now let us pause here for a moment. I wonder which of these sounds more common - those that are walking by without a glance or the one that stops to help? Maybe this will help us think about why those called "Good Samaritans" are celebrated.
But Richard cannot leave this helpless person lying there on the sidewalk. He reaches down and scoops her up. The woman manages to communicate that the blood is not hers, and that she just needs to rest, so please don’t call a doctor. He carries her back to his flat and lets her sleep. The next morning, the young woman named Door looks much refreshed. She enlists Richard’s help to escape some men that are looking for her. In the process, Richard is introduced to a world he didn’t even know existed, a world inhabited by those on the margins - the ignored, the outcasts, those that choose to live away from society's rules. It also happens to be a world of magic
In the end, Richard travels with Door until she completes her quest to discover who killed her family and why. He protects her from murderers, survives a quest that has killed countless others before him, and slays a mythical beast at the heart of London Below. He went far beyond simply aiding the hurting woman that others had ignored on the street, and his life was changed in the process.
Richard stopped and talked to the woman lying there. He took her somewhere safe where she could recover from her injuries. He made sure she was safe before he allowed her to continue on her journey. And in the process, he entered into relationship with Door and many others he would never even have met if he had not stopped to help her on the street.
Surely the priest and the Levite had very good reasons for ignoring the need of the man lying on the side of the road. Maybe they were running late for worship. Maybe they were afraid of touching the man’s blood and needing to ritually cleanse themselves later. Maybe they assumed the man was already dead.
But the Samaritan saw the man and was moved with compassion. He bound up the man’s wounds, placed him on his own donkey and took him to an inn. Then he set the man up with a room, paid the innkeeper to see that the man was cared for, and promised to pay any additional monies when he next came through.
The Samaritan didn’t just call an ambulance. He didn’t just put bandaids on the wounds and walk away. He tended the man’s wounds, took him somewhere safe, and provided for his needs until he was able to get out on his own again.
Now I can’t say that following this encounter the Samaritan entered a magical land, completed a sacred quest, and slayed a mythical creature. But I like to think that when he returned again to the inn, he continued to care for the traveler and developed a relationship of some sort with him. I like to think that some sort of bond was formed between the two. For in the end, this is what Jesus is calling us to - loving relationship with one another.
Loving relationships are built on the kindness and compassion that the Samaritan showed. They are built on a love that does not think of its own gain but seeks instead to serve others. The Samaritan was an outsider in the story. He is from a different nation and not even Jewish. And yet he is the one that stops to help the man in need. He didn’t stop and ask the man’s nationality. He didn’t stop to check his insurance card. He didn’t stop to wonder how his service to others was going to affect his own status in his community. He didn’t stop to ask if the man had done something to put himself in this situation. He simply saw someone in need and helped them.
Not only that, but he didn’t stop and ask what the least amount of help was that he could give and still be considered helping. He helped extravagantly. He gave abundantly. We have to remember that in these parables Jesus is making a case for what the kingdom of God looks like. And the love that God has for us, the love that God expects us to have for one another, is extravagant. It is kind, it is compassionate, and it goes beyond any limits we might want to place on it. We don't get to limit God's love - for ourselves or for others.
As we think about the compassion shown in these two examples today, I want us to think about our own lives. When faced with need, do we cross to the other side of the road, step around the outstretched hand, and refuse to meet the other’s eyes? Or do we look upon others with the same love, kindness, and compassion with which Jesus looks upon us?
In some ways, it is sad to think about the ways in which we celebrate the Good Samaritan. It is sad to think that acting with kindness and compassion towards others is so extraordinary, so outside of the norm, that it is something to be celebrated.
But this is exactly why Jesus told this story. He needed to jar us enough with this act of kindness that was so unexpected that we would recognize it as a sacred thing. The love that we are called to share with one another is a mere reflection of that love that God has shown us.
What I would truly love to see is a story on the news about “Good Samaritans” from a local church doing good in their community and have the response be, “Well, of course they would do that. They are Christians after all.”
That is the world that Jesus was pointing us to. That is the example of kindness, compassion, and love that Jesus talked about in this parable, the same example that Jesus lived in his life with others, and the same task to which Jesus calls us all still today.
When our community looks at the work of our church, are they surprised by the kindness, compassion, and love that we show to the world around us?
I hope that the answer is yes; at least I hope that they see us showing kindness, compassion, and love to others in our community. But I would hope it would not be a surprise that we act that way.
I hope that we will continue to go beyond in faith, that we will continue to act with boldness, and that we will continue to show loving kindness to the world around us.
So let us join together and love our neighbors so extravagantly that everyone will know we follow Jesus.
This week we continue our look at Jesus' teaching as found in the Sermon on the Plain in the Gospel of Luke. (Luke 6:27-38) What does it mean for God is merciful to the wicked and unjust? What do we do with the fact that Jesus calls us to do the same?
* * *
There are many difficult doctrines and beliefs in Christian teaching. Many of these things were also difficult in Jesus’ time, though we like to think they are more difficult for us with our modern sensibilities. From the virgin birth to the Resurrection, from miraculous healings to miraculous feedings, what are we to do with those things that our experience and intellect tell us are simply not possible? From the Trinity to the Sacraments to the Incarnation, what are we to do with concepts so convoluted it almost doesn’t make sense to even bring them up?
We talk about the unwed teenager who becomes pregnant with the Son of God, but we don’t often dig too deeply into what that means whether out of an inability to believe this girl was really a virgin or because we don’t want to think about how our modern culture treats unwed mothers. What does it mean for us today that this is how God chose to come into the world?
We hear the stories of Jesus feeding the multitudes, how a handful of bread loaves and a couple of fish turned into enough to feed thousands with more leftover than they started with. But is the miracle in so little being turned into so much, or in the people present actually sharing the food they had brought with others? Either of these thoughts can be hard for us to believe.