The Baptism of Jesus and Us 2026 A

 

The Baptism of Jesus and Us

To fully understand the scene on the banks of the River Jordan, we need to look at what has been left out of our Sunday lessons between the birth of Jesus, and his baptism, which one needs to recognize, is not Christian baptism. The story in Acts 10:34-43 about Cornelius, is the second description of Christian baptism, and quite possibly the first Gentile (i.e. non-Jewish) Christian baptism. In Acts chapter eight, the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch who worked for the Candace, the powerful queen of The Kush, ancient Ethiopia, is the first recorded Christian baptism. There is no record of Christian baptism in any one of the four Gospels. Luke’s descriptions in Acts, therefore, are the first recorded episodes of baptism as we think of it in the Church. 

The missing narratives: shortly after the visit of the Gentile Magi, Joseph has a dream warning him to take the child and the child’s mother to Egypt because Herod, the Empire’s appointed King of the Jews, is much vexed at the news the Magi announced of the birth of a child who is to become King of the Jews. One ought to note the irony: Egypt, once upon a time the land that held the Hebrew people as slaves, from which Jesus’s ancestors escaped to freedom to a new homeland, is now considered the safest place to protect the child in the manger. 

And protection is absolutely necessary, as Herod ordered the murder of all the children under the age of two in Bethlehem and the surrounding region – that is, all of Jesus’s cousins, a generation of relatives in the City of David, are slaughtered out of Herod’s paranoia of losing his plum position in the Empire of Rome. And it is not just Herod. We read in chapter two of Matthew that “all of Jerusalem,” the priests and the Sadducees included, were fearful of the news of this child born in Bethlehem, since most of them were complicit with the brutality of the Empire. They were charged with announcing and initiating Government policy, collecting new taxes, and adjudicating those who broke Roman law and were consigned to be crucified. 

Against this background of violence and brutality against the population of Israel, we find John, arrayed in animal skins like the ancient prophet Elijah, baptizing the people of Jerusalem and the surrounding area of Judea; a baptism of repentance – to repent of complicity with the Roman government. To repent of straying from faithfulness to being God’s Servant people as announced centuries earlier by the prophet Isaiah [42:1-9]. The prophetic poetry is ambiguous as to the identity of the Servant. Is it an individual? Or, is it the nation of God’s people Israel? Might it be both? What we do know is that God’s Servant is to enact God’s will of justice, peace, and dignity for all people. God’s justice is to be wrought gently, carefully, caringly. The Servant is so gentle: “a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.” In other words, God’s justice is to be wrought in ways utterly at odds with the strength, force, and power of the Empire. John is calling for a reset. Calling for a resistance movement based in the mercy, forgiveness and love of God. Calling for the people to embrace their appointed role as God’s Servant people as Isaiah had announced centuries before. 

Some Pharisees and Sadducees had come down to the river. John immediately called out their motives as suspect. Especially those of the Sadducees who were complicit with the regime of violence against their own people. John issues a warning: if they are not sincere in changing their ways, there is One who is to come with his winnowing fork and will separate the wheat from the chaff, and the chaff shall be burned in “unquenchable fire.” It is onto this stage, into this ritual bathing in the river, that Jesus, now an adult, chooses to align himself with John’s movement. 

No one, least of all Jesus, knew what would happen. John initially defers to Jesus. “You should baptize me.” I am not worthy. But Jesus is resolute. Jesus is there to validate John’s call to repentance and resistance to the deep violence of the occupation. Jesus goes down beneath the waters of the river. Then, as he comes up renewed and aligned with the call for justice, it happens. The Spirit, the Breath of God which in the beginning blew across the chaotic waters of creation, returns and settles upon Jesus like a dove. A voice from heaven speaks, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” The Servant Isaiah had imagined long ago, the Servant is now both a people and a man. A man declared at birth to be Emmanuel – God with us. 

I am not certain that there are words to describe what Jesus must have felt at that moment. Or, what John must have felt? Not to mention the crowd who had come voluntarily to participate in the renewal of what it means to be God’s people of justice, mercy, and forgiveness; to stand against the strength, force, and power of the Empire of brutality and violence. What did they see and hear in that moment that the Spirit had returned, and the voice that had declared this young man from Galilee as God’s Beloved Son? One thing can be certain. The Pharisees and Sadducees could suddenly see the winnowing fork in Jesus’s hand. They could see that the jig was up. They could see that there was to be a change in the wind, wrought by the breath and Spirit of the God who was there to initiate a new thing, a renewal of ancient vows and promises. And that it was to be a time of grave decision: Do we answer to Yahweh of the exodus, exile and return home? Or, with Caesar, Herod, and the rule of strength, force, absolute power, and brutality? Witness the number of crosses of those already crucified lining the roads and the hillside outside Jerusalem. 

Like all those people down by the River Jordan that day, look at where we find ourselves today as we are about to renew our Baptismal Vows and Promises. In many ways, circumstances are not so different as they were that day Jesus chose to take a stand against violence; against a regime of strength, force, power, and brutality. We live among citizens in our nation who openly declare, “We live in a world, in the real world, that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power… These are the iron laws of the world that have existed since the beginning of time... rather than international law or ‘niceties.’” All too often, we hear of those who shoot first and ask questions later. Who harass U.S. citizens without warrant. 

In a few moments, we will renew our Baptismal Covenant and Vows. When we do, we will align ourselves with John, Jesus, and all those people down by the river, as well as with Christians like The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, and Representative John Lewis, who practiced a “gentle” and peaceful resistance to support a nation of laws and peaceful protest; to seek justice and peace for all people, and respect for the dignity of every human being. We will promise that with God’s help we will seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. We will promise that everything we do and everything we say will proclaim the Good News of God in Jesus Christ. These are not easy promises to keep. And promises that somehow have become counter-cultural in today’s upside-down world. Jesus calls us to be the Beloved Community of Love. God’s Spirit, God’s breath, God’s holy wind promises to be with us as we decide whether or not to renew these promises. Promises which have felt no more important than they do today. We pray for God’s Spirit-Breath to give us the strength to affirm and fulfill these promises that represent God’s will for all people, everywhere all the time. We say, Emmanuel, God is with us. Now is the time to decide if we really believe this. Amen.  

Epiphany: The Camel's Story Matthew 2:1-12

 Epiphany: The Camel’s Story [Matthew 2:1-12]

Ships of the desert, my eye! Being a beast of burden is not all it is cracked up to be when old nothing but dust for brains Adam named us camels, and when Isaiah proclaimed that a multitude of us would cover the land of promise bearing peoples and gifts from all corners of the earth to come and see the brightness of the light of God's people shining through the thick darkness covering all the earth. But still, without the bunch of us lugging all the supplies and tents, and yes, those precious if not somewhat odd gifts for a baby shower, the Magi, or the Wise Ones as I like to call them, would never have made it by the twelfth day. Besides, I consider myself one of the lucky ones who only had to carry one of the Wise One's himself, Melchior. 

As it was, by the time we got there, Bethlehem, after being a town bustling and bursting with people and commerce for those few days of the census, had returned to its sleepy, tired City of David after everyone had been counted and had gone home. Which is to say, when we got there, the place was empty. Just a man, a woman, and between them the baby who was to be King. But there I go getting ahead of myself. 

Thank goodness for Omar and Zepho and the other camel boys who actually saw to it that we were fed and watered and rubbed down now and then, while the Wise Ones could hardly if ever keep their heads out of the stars. If they were not gazing at the stars they were talking about them, charting them, interpreting them, and searching for just the one that would relieve them of their endlessly restless, inquiring and yearning spirits. While they searched the heavens and earth for something they kept calling "the truth," the rest of us in their not so little caravan saw to it that life was lived and everyone was taken care of. They often missed the most interesting and exciting parts of the journey, so absorbed and preoccupied were they with their own concerns and interests. Like the mouse who smuggled herself into the saddlebag of Gaspar's camel, Bella. She was a teenage mouse who had had a terrible fight with her parents and run away. But there I go again. I'm getting off the point. 

So, where were we? Certainly not at that dreadful King Herod's palace. That’s Herod, King of the Jews. Oh, there was plenty of company for all of us camels amidst his livestock and barns, and plenty of water and grain and other good things to eat, but even we could sense the terrible cloak of darkness and death that surrounded his entire little piece of the great Roman Empire. And who was this Caesar he kept talking about? He seemed troubled to hear all the Wise Ones talking about the stars and a new King of the Jews and could he give directions to the place where the child lay. Well, no, blustered Herod, but surely you will return to tell me where the little one is so I can go there myself to worship him. It wasn't what he said but how he said it that made even the fleas on my humps crawl with uneasiness. There was a rattling in his throat, and his hands trembled, and the air was as still as death. It doesn’t take a Wise One to know that no king has ever yet bowed down to another king. We all thought, surely there must be another way out of here. And as it turned out, we never did return to Herod as we headed off in a new direction afterwards, which was too bad since there was something compelling about that child. 

On the outskirts of Bethlehem, we decided to make our camp where we ran across the happiest and wildest bunch of Bedouin shepherds you ever did see. All of them talking at once about angels and a baby and Good News for everyone. The Wise Ones smiled. The first time any of us had ever seen them smile! Just then we took the Wise One’s and all the gifts and headed into town to see if it was just as the shepherds had told us. 

When we found the young family, it was night. It was very cold. The odor of the hay was very sweet, and the cattle's breath, like ours, came out in little puffs of mist hanging in the air. Of course, I wasn't supposed to come into the place where they were. In fact, it was such a tiny little manger on the ground floor of the house. There wasn't much room. But we had come so far, traveling for so many years to find something, someone, somewhere, that it seemed possible that we really might have to search no further. I figured it couldn't hurt if I just stuck my head in for a peek. 

So, while Omar and Zepho and the others were unloading the gifts off the back of my cousin, and the Wise Ones were still consulting their charts and graphs to make certain that this truly was the one they were searching for, I stuck my head in. Well, it was a bit surprising to find the scene so ordinary. I don't know what I had expected, but after years of schlepping these Wise Ones and all their gear and supplies all over every-possible-place, I guess I thought there would be crowds, and family, and all kinds of hoopla. I mean, even when a new camel is born amongst the herd, there is more attention and excitement: camel boys doing the midwifery, the rest of us clomping around to get a peek, shouts, cheers, everyone watching the new one try to stand up for the first time.

 

There was none of that in this little tiny place in Bethlehem. The man, the woman, between them the child. But no, just from the glance I caught, even I would have to say "between them, the King." Even I could see that this little child was true-light itself, but it is really curious how little babies like this one cannot even get up on their legs the way we do. They just lie there, so, well, still and vulnerable. Even I could see that even the stars might bow down before this one. Even I could see that he could teach creepy old Herod a thing or two about being a king. Even I could see that the heavens and earth and all creation were somehow about to be made new by the presence of this one baby asleep in the hay. 

It's just too bad the Wise Ones did not seem to see all that. I mean they put their gifts in there, and bowed down on bended knee and all. But then it was back out the door, and up looking into the heavens again, and soon we were being loaded up and herded down the road and out of town. All of us except Bella, that is. Our little mouse companion stayed behind. She just could not bring herself to leave those people alone. She was not going back. Or going anywhere. She was staying right there with him, the one born to be King. She wanted to live the rest of his story! 

Of course, we missed her. Gaspar's camel had come to like the little one. It was some years later that another mouse joined our caravan and started telling some fantastic and wonderful stories she had heard from her great-great-grandmother Bella! Seems that throughout the years many people came to see the child born to be King. Some went running through the streets and all over the world telling others the good things they had seen and heard about this child. Others came to offer whatever gifts they had so that he might bring abundant life to all the world. All came seeking to receive something from him. But once you see him, really see him, you long to give whatever you have, all that you have, to further his life in the world. 

Sometime or another, everyone comes to take a look in that manger. Whenever your time comes to be with him, stop and spend more time than we did. The Wise Ones kept us wandering all over the place, looking for whatever they called "the truth." Somehow, they just could not see that the “truth” is not an idea or a belief, but rather truth and salvation are a person – that child we once saw in Bethlehem. They kept vowing that one day they would return to Bethlehem, but every year they spent more and more time doing everything else but spending time with him before whom even the stars are said to bow down. I don't know what they saw, but I know what I saw. Just that glance, a peek in the door was enough to know that this Jesus reveals to you how much God watches over you and loves you. Even I could see that this Jesus calls us to follow him so we might do something beautiful with our lives and bear much fruit. Even us camels! 

That’s the one thing I saw that night: that the World needs you. God needs you. Jesus needs you. They need your gifts, your light, and your love. Isn't that the funny part of it all? The Wise Ones are off all the time looking at the light in the stars, when the light that is the light of the world is right here in the midst of us. He shows us that. Any camel with eyes could see that! Know, my sister, my brother, that there is a hidden place in your heart where Jesus lives and his light shines! This is a deep secret that even the Wisest Ones overlook most of the time. Let Jesus live in you. Go forward with him into all the world. Let your little light shine, for the light that is the life of the world is still coming into the world through that child we saw that night long ago. 

By the way, did I fail to mention the seemingly little-known fact that Melchior's name was really "Salome," and that it was changed not merely because of the patriarchy, but because of the seemingly strange gift of Myrrh that she brought to the Christ child? Myrrh. A burial spice. Of course, the Wood of the Crib is the Hard Wood of the Cross. I will ask you a terrible question. Is the Truth beyond all truths, beyond the stars, just this – that to live without him is real death, that to die with him is the only life? But, that’s an altogether different story. Or, is it?   

Keep looking at the babe in the manger. Offer him your gifts, and you will see all that there is to know and see! And then some. And then some. And who knows, maybe if we all offer of ourselves as much as we receive from him, we just might one day make it through the eye of a needle! Amen. 

[Thanks, and apologies, to Ted Loder, Frederick Buechner, John Shea, and Jean Vanier whose writings and reflections inspired this telling of The Camel’s Story.]

A Different Kind of Christmas Story Christmas 1

 

A Different Kind of Christmas Story   Christmas 1A

There once was a mouse. His whole world was at the tip of his nose and close to the ground. But one day he heard a roaring in his ears. He asked the other mice, but no others could hear it and thought he was daft. The mouse was determined to see for himself.

 

He followed the roaring sound until a voice said, “Hello!” The mouse was startled. “Who is there?” he asked. “I am raccoon! Where are you going?” “I can hear a roaring in my ears. Where is it?” “Oh,” said the raccoon, “that is the Medicine River. Let me show you where it is.” And off they went to the river. When the mouse saw the river, and could see all of creation reflected on its surface, he was amazed! Then he looked into the water and saw a frightened little mouse looking back. A voice asked, “Who are you?” There, on a lily pad was a frog. “I could hear the roaring in my ears, but did not know about the river.” The frog asked, “Would you like some medicine power?” Oh, yes, said the little mouse! “Do not be afraid. Jump as high as you can, and see what else you can see!” The mouse was scared, but he crouched down and jumped up high, and off in the distance he saw mountains! “Those are the Sacred Mountains,” said the frog as the mouse fell in the water. “Oh, I must run back to my people and tell them about the river and the Sacred Mountains!” “Yes, and now you have a new name! You are Jumping Mouse!”

 

Jumping Mouse returned to the world of mice, but no one believed him about the Medicine River and the Sacred Mountains. And why was he wet? It had not rained. But all Jumping Mouse could think of was going to see the Sacred Mountains, and off he went again. He could see spots in the sky. They were eagles, so he had to be careful so as not to be seen. He came upon a stand of bushes, and there was an Old Mouse. A wise Old Mouse. “This is wonderful,” said Jumping Mouse, “The eagles cannot not see us here.” “Oh yes,” said the Old Mouse, “and from here we can see all the beings of the prairie: Buffalo, Antelope, Rabbit, and Coyote. We can see them and know them all by name! Why don’t you stay here with us?” “I am looking for the sacred mountains,” said Jumping Mouse. “Oh, that’s just a myth. Stay with us.” I have seen them, thought Jumping Mouse. I can never forget them. “I must be on my way,” he said. “Be careful of the spots in the sky. Those are eagles!” said the Old Mouse. But off he went.

 

After a while he came across a stand of chokeberries, and there was much food there to gather, when he bumped into a large heap of fur with black horns. “What are you doing here,” asked Jumping Mouse. “I am Buffalo, and I am dying. My medicine tells me I need the eye of a mouse, but there is no such thing as a mouse.” “I am a mouse,” said Jumping mouse. “I have two eyes. I can give you one of them!” And with that his one eye left and went to the Buffalo who suddenly jumped to his feet, shaking the ground beneath Jumping Mouse’s feet. “Thank you, little brother. I know of your quest for the Sacred Mountains. You have given me life so that I might help others. I will take you to the foot of the Sacred Mountains, and you need not fear the eagles, as you will run beneath me so they cannot see you.” And off they went.

 

At the foot of the Sacred Mountains, Buffalo said, “This is as far as I can take you. Good luck on your quest little brother, and thank you for giving me my life back!” “It was scary,” said Jumping Mouse, “running beneath you with your hooves thundering so. But thank you for saving me from the spots in the sky!” As Jumping Mouse was looking for food, he came across a Grey Wolf. “Hello, Wolf,” he said. “Wolf? Wolf! Yes, that’s what I am, a wolf.” But after a few minutes, Wolf again forgot who he was. Jumping Mouse said to himself, how strange that he cannot remember who he is. “I can help you,” he said. “My eyes have medicine power, and I can give you my one eye to recover your memory. You are a greater being than I am, you deserve it.” And when he said that, his one eye flew over to the Wolf, and now he could remember who he was again. The Wolf had tears in his eyes, but Jumping Mouse could not see for now he was blind.

 

“You are a great little brother,” said the Wolf, “and now that you are blind, I will take you to the top of the Sacred Mountains where there is a great Medicine Lake. Up there, all the world is reflected in its waters. All the people, their lodges, the beings of the prairie. You can see it all.” “O, Please, take me there,” said Jumping Mouse!

 

When they got there, Jumping Mouse drank from the Medicine Lake, and the Wolf described the great beauty of all the world reflected in the lake. Then Wolf said he needed to go. Jumping Mouse thanked him for bringing him to the Sacred Mountain, and as the Wolf wandered off, Jumping Mouse began to tremble. He could no longer run away, and he could sense the Eagles were circling above him. Sure enough, an Eagle dove down and struck him, and Jumping Mouse fell asleep.

 

When he woke up, he could see again, though everything was blurry. A voice approached him saying, “Would you like some medicine, little brother?” “Oh, yes I would, thank you.” “Why then crouch down as low as you can and jump as high as you can.” Jumping Mouse did that, and the wind picked him up off the ground. His sight became a little clearer. The voice cried out, “Do not be afraid, little brother. Hang on to the wind and trust!” Jumping Mouse closed his eyes and hung onto the wind, and the higher he went, the clearer his vision became, until soon he was looking down on the Great Medicine Lake, and he could see his old friend the Frog on the lily pad! “You have a new name,” called the Frog. “You are Eagle!”  I am Eagle, thought Jumping Mouse, and off he flew, free from the ground, able to see the beauty of all creation from high up in the sky! He was Eagle!

 

John gives us a different kind of Christmas Story in which we are invited to become children of God! [John 1:1-18] Like Genesis, John starts, “In the beginning…” and suddenly we are swept into the story of a new creation! It announces that in Christ, God became flesh and blood and moved into our neighborhood! Matthew, Mark, and Luke place the story in time and space in the here and now. John, symbolized by an Eagle, gives us a different perspective – a high-altitude view from before time and space – before creation itself. John wants us to jump as high as we can to see that before time and space, Jesus was the very Word God speaks to bring creation into being. From an eagle’s-eye view, John wants us to see that when one encounters the Word, one experiences God – the Word and God are One.

 

And like that other John, the baptizer, John’s different kind of Christmas story calls us to be witnesses to the Light and Life of the world. No one has ever seen God. It is God the Word, the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made him known. Seen from John’s eagle-eyed perspective, like Jumping Mouse we and the whole world can be and will be transformed. We become freed from whatever holds us earthbound; from whatever keeps us with our noses to the ground rather than flying free into the world of God’s new creation – God’s kingdom of light and life for all people, all creatures, and all creation itself. John’s story says, come join the journey to full union with God in Christ. God and Christ and we are One. Amen.

Christmas Eve 2025 God Is Here!

 

Christmas Eve 2025 – God Is Here!

That’s how we left it Sunday: God. Is. Here. Where do we go from here? That is the question.

 

Christmas Eve Eve I woke up early. It is dark. Really really dark. Some kind of rain or mist is going on. I feel my way through the dark into the living room and fire up the Lenovo Think Pad one more time. As I was falling asleep last night after baking dozens and dozens of cookies, poet Mary Oliver was describing a black snake. The snake “came like a whip…like black water flowing down the hill./ Watch me it whispered / then poured like black water through the field/ then hurried down, like black water into the mouses hole…” A black snake, like black water, underground with a mouse where it is darker than this Christmas Eve Eve morning, I thought.

 

And Oliver observes, “dear God, we too are down here in such darkness.” Yes, I thought, we are. Like Sisyphus, we try to claw our way back into the light, only to slip once again into the darkness…the Lenovo lights up. Breathe deep. Too much of its blue light can disturb your sleep. Disturb your peace. Darkness can be both disturbing and somehow reassuring at the same time. Calming or anxiety provoking. I open Facebook and my eyes fall upon the following from a lifetime friend and fellow traveler towards the Light and Life of the world:

Then He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

The thrill of Hope, a weary world rejoices…Please heal our world

 

Jesus would call it Tikkun Olan: repair the world. It is what he came to do. Repair the damage we have done to the world he created. God. Is. Here. And suddenly the soul feels its worth. Hope is reborn whenever we bear him, as Mary did, and give him to the World, a weary world, a jaded world, fearful of rejoicing, seeking healing for all that keeps us chained to the darkness. None of us are free, none of us are free, if one of us is chained, none of us are free...until we let his light to shine within...the morning star that knows no setting...He comes, He rises still, He appears in the oddest moments, in the oddest of people we meet, in a manger with shepherds of all people. Do we see him? Do we call him? Do we seek him? Do we ever see him in others? And then he is right here, where two or three are gathered, he is in the midst of us lighting the way home, home to ourselves, our true selves, our loving selves, our light filled selves…we feel our worth, we feel the thrill of Hope, we rejoice, ideo o o ideo o o, ideo, gloria, in excelsis Deo!

 

Google AI reveals: that last part first appeared in a Finnish Song Book in 1582. We don’t know how old it really is, but of course Id-e-o-o-o" is a vocalization from the Christmas carol "Personent Hodie" ("On This Day Earth Shall Ring"), where it leads into the Latin phrase "Gloria in excelsis Deo," meaning "Glory to God in the highest," a joyful chant by the angels announcing Jesus's birth. The "Id-e-o" is meant to mimic angelic singing. He Is Here. Lying in a manger. Or, as Matthew has it, in a house. Some commentators remind us, 2,000 years ago, the first floor of a house might have a manger where the animals would spend the night indoors. Something like those Charleston, South Carolina homes, where the sitting room is on the second floor. The last time I saw The Reverend Frank Mcclain was in one of those homes.

 

Frank+ was my first rector out of seminary. He retired to Charleston, and on a visit, Frank took me to the top floor of their house and said, “Look out this window.” And through a rather small window on the top floor, one can see the place that started it all – Fort Sumter. That’s where it began. When will it ever end? Or, as Pete Seeger would ask over and over again, “When will we ever learn? When will we ever learn….” In the holy darkness of Christmas Eve Eve, I miss Frank. I miss my father Robert. I miss my mother, Patricia. The Holy Darkness of Christmas brings out the ghosts of our past. I miss Missie, Frank’s wife. The last time I saw Missie and the girls, we were sitting in that second floor sitting room getting ready to head over to Frank’s funeral just before Christmas that year. I shared with the family the sermon Frank delivered my first Christmas as a priest in Christ’s One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. They had never heard it. I re-read it every year. It concludes:

“Christmas, we have often emphasized, has been and is a time of giving. The letters that come in the mail, stack upon stack of them, tend to underline those words of Jesus, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” This is recorded in the Book of Acts and not in the Gospels. That of course is true – and yet, never forget it, Christmas is also a time to receive a gift, wonderful truth.

            “We will each of us receive some special gift tomorrow from someone who loves us. More wonderful even, we will each of us, singly and together, receive a gift from someone who loves us even more, from God.

            “In any of our lives there is a manger, now doubtless empty, cold, malodorous, surrounded by beasts – the heartbreaks, tragedies, and disappointments of our lives. But it is there that you will find the child, new born, if you will look on him and be open to receive God’s gift.

            “It can come to you this Christmas, that gift, that birth within you of the Christ Child, when you become aware of and touch, perhaps only fleetingly, the whole and complete person God intended you to be; that God intends you to be. It can happen when you are alone or it can happen when you are in company. It can happen here, at this present Bethlehem, this Holy Table, when and where you receive tangible evidence, symbols of bread and wine, God’s Body and Blood, God’s life.

            “As in receiving any real gift, your response will be astonishment, humility (Why me?), and deep, restorative joy – to which you can only say Gratia, Thank You, Eucharist, Grace!

            “Be open tonight/today to receive that gift, open-handed, offering nothing but your need, your empty manger. Centuries of experience assure you that God’s gift is being offered, God’s Son, born within you. Arise and go out into the world with astonishment with humility, with joy. Respond in whatever language you may know, Thank you, Eucharisto, Gratia. Your gratitude will show forth – and – a Merry Christmas.”

 

A few days later, back home in Maryland, Frank’s Christmas card arrived, dated just a few days before the heart attack took him home. At the end of the card he wrote, “May your coming year be bright and the kind of world you deserve. With love, Frank/Missie.” Frank knew better than just about anyone I have ever known that God. Is. Here. Immanuel: God is with us. Let God In. Let in The Light! Become the Light of Christ. Help others to see the God who is here!

 

That’s the joke of it all, isn’t it. We wait and wait for God in Christ to return when it seems he never really left. That’s the hook in his final words to us at the very end of Matthew’s gospel, “Lo, I am with you always, to the end of the age!” Whenever we think we are done with Jesus we discover that Jesus is never done with us! God is with us. To the end of the age. The darkness has not overcome The Light! God is here. Jesus is here. Always. Forever. And ever. It’s like what I saw on Facebook: He appeared and the soul felt its worth. The thrill of Hope, a weary world rejoices. Please heal our world, He says! Tikkun Olam, He says! Repair the world, He says! That’s where we go from here! Gloria, in excelsis Deo! God bless us, every one!

God is Here Advent 4A

 

God is Here

God is Here. That’s it. God is here. We were reminded of this at our recent diocesan convention by The Very Reverend Winnie Verghese, Dean of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. And really, this is what the evangelist we call Matthew wrote to proclaim in terms that everyone might understand. He begins with a rather remarkable genealogy connecting Jesus the Christ, the Son of David, all the way back to Abraham. [Matt 1:1-18] In his recital of all the fathers who stretch from Abraham to David, and from David to Jesus, Matthew’s main point is that from Abraham onward, not only has God been with all these people, now and forever, in ways that are mysterious and settling, but that God in Christ came not as a vision, not for a visit, but to dwell among us as one of us. That is, God became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood, to experience all that life and death have to offer to every one of us. That is, God is here! 

Although ancient genealogies tend only to list the fathers, the patriarchs, the pater familias, Matthew’s account is unique in that in addition to Mary we find the names of four other women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and “the wife of Uriah.” We tend to run past the genealogy to get to the story of Jesus’s birth, but those who first heard Matthew read in public worship would surely have said, “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Isn’t Tamar the one who played the role of a harlot to trick her father-in-law Judah into fathering the children he had denied her with his sons for so long? And wasn’t Rahab a prostitute in Jericho who aided two Israelite soldiers escape capture, and was the mother of Salmon’s son Boaz? And wasn’t Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, the gentile widow from Moab? And Obed was the father of Jesse who was the father of King David! And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah? Jesus is related to these four women?” Prostitutes, gentiles, and the woman King David raped all get special mention that leads to Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born. Jesus who is called Christos, Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God, God incarnate: the Word that was with God before the beginning of the world; that Word that is God, through whom everything that was made was made. More than any other names in Matthew’s genealogy, these four women plus Mary foreshadow the fact that the baby named Jesus welcomes and loves everyone whomever, from wherever, no matter what. Because he knows God was with these five women, and that our God is surprising and finds important things for all of us to do, so we can all play a part in the life of Jesus the Christ because he came to demonstrate and make us all understand and believe once and for all that God is Here! 

Several things in this genealogy: 1) this kid is Jewish, 2) this Christ is Universal, he lives for and belongs to everyone – men and women, slave and free, Jew and Gentile, and 3) these five women are as much a part of him as all those men. This genealogy is surprising, it’s real, it has been through generations of challenging political, military, and religious crises, and yet, through it all, God was there! 

Just after the genealogy, Matthw tells us that “the birth of Jesus Messiah took place in this way.” [Matthew 1: 18-25] Thanks in part to St. Francis who invented the creche, we tend to remember the birth of Jesus as Luke tells the story. Matthew’s story is different, concise, and hints at danger lurking in the shadows. And curiously, Joseph, not Mary, is the main character. Joseph, we are told, is a righteous man – that is, he strives to keep all 613 laws of Torah (248 positive, 365 negative). Joseph is engaged to a young woman. In all likelihood, this is an arranged marriage. Joseph has obligations to the young woman’s family. She is most likely 12 or 13 years old. But there’s a problem. She is pregnant. By some unknown entity. 

There are all kinds of specifics among the 613 laws of Torah on what a righteous man is to do. A public divorce, which would likely result in an honor killing of the girl by her family for dishonoring their name. Joseph decides against that and chooses to dismiss her quietly and let the chips fall as they may. Tamar would have some wisdom to share with Mary. But wait! All of a sudden, Joseph is visited by an angel of the Lord in a dream who issues the standard, “Joseph, Son of David, do not be afraid to marry this girl Mary, “for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Jesus is the Greek translation of the Hebrew name Joshua, or Yeshua, which means “God helps,” “God saves,” or my favorite, “Yahweh, help!” 

Matthew tells us, this was all to fulfill what the prophet Isaiah had once said, “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call him Emmanuel,” which means “God is with us.” Isaiah actually said, “a young woman,” not a virgin, which Matthew no doubt borrowed from a corrupted translation. When Joseph wakes up from sleep, he does as the angel of the Lord had commanded him. He took her for his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus. 

What do we learn from Matthew’s story of the birth of Jesus the Universal Christ and Messiah? Joseph is from the line of David, and will become the adoptive father of Jesus. And that Jesus will be known as “the son of David,” but by divine intervention, not in the customary biological manner. Joseph is not to be afraid, a pronouncement which will appear at the end of the story addressed to the disciples, who would be us: “Fear not, god is doing a new thing in the world.” [Matt 28:5] Along with Joseph, we learn that there is a righteousness that transcends the laws of Torah. The angel tells Joseph to shatter the old law in order to keep the new law. Joseph will become a righteous man in the new sense, not the old sense, and marry her. That is, Joseph is transformed, and that that is what Jesus comes to us to do: transform us to the new ways in which God is here! (Note, God throughout history adapts his intentions to the matters at hand) 

Perhaps most interesting is the fact that the child borne to Mary is given the name Jesus by Joseph, as the angel commanded, and the name Emmanuel by Matthew by way of Isaiah. God Saves. God is with us. Oh, and Matthew already gave him the name Christos, Christ, or Messiah. This is just the beginning! As the child grows up, he will accumulate many, many more names: Son of David, Son of God, Lord, Master, Good Shepherd, Savior, and the list goes on! 

But the two names in Matthew’s account of “the birth of Jesus took place in this way,” remain central to Jesus’s life. He saves others. He welcomes others. He heals others. He gives meaning to their lives. They who come from all walks of life, from all places in the known world. He turns away no one. Not one. And the night before he is crucified, he cries out in the garden his own name, “Yahweh, help!” Demonstrating that even Jesus, the Son of David, Son of God, can forget in the darkest moments of his earthly life, that indeed, God is here! 

Matthew will conclude his Good News the way it begins. Jesus has one last gathering of his disciples, which by then numbered many many more the original twelve. He tells them to go to the ends of the earth and bring the Good News to one and all. That is, to do the things that he does, and more than all of that! Then he issues a promise: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” God is here! 

(BTW, the “you” is plural. I’m with y’all always to the end of the age. God. Is. Here.) 

And is it true ? For if it is,

No loving fingers tying strings

Around those tissued fripperies,

The sweet and silly Christmas things,

Bath salts and inexpensive scent

And hideous tie so kindly meant,

 

No love that in a family dwells,

No carolling in frosty air,

Nor all the steeple-shaking bells

Can with this single Truth compare -

That God was man in Palestine

And lives today in Bread and Wine

                                          -from 'Christmas' by Sir John Betjeman C.B.E.

Speaking Truth to Power: The Prophets Advent 3A

Speaking Truth to Power: The Prophets

Stir up Sunday - Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen. 

Every Third Sunday in Advent we pray for God to stir things up, and with great might to come among us; BECAUSE we are sorely hindered by our sins. And look who is featured as Exhibit #1 among our texts for today: John. John the baptizer. John who was sent by God to prepare the way of the lord. The Way of the Lord. God’s Way. Jesus’s Way. John knows how to stir it up! 

And where do we find John? In prison. Why? Because he was not a polite dinner guest. He rebuked Caesar’s appointed King of the Jews, Herod Antipas. Herod was fascinated by John until John had the temerity to point out that Herod’s marriage to his brother’s wife, Herodias, was unlawful and sinful in the eyes of God. Talk about stirring things up! John had the prophetic courage and strength to speak truth to power. For that he was put to death. 

There was Moses who confronted Pharaoh demanding that he “Let my people go!” Thus, the prophetic tradition in Biblical Religion was born. It did not stop with Moses. Elijah famously rebuked King Ahab of Israel, confronting him for his wickedness, especially for promoting Baal worship with his wife, Queen Jezebel, and for unjustly seizing Naboth's vineyard, leading to prophecies of judgment and famine. Nathan rebuked David for stealing another man’s wife and arranging for her husband to be killed at the battle front. Jeremiah referred to the kings, priests, and prophets of Judah as "bad shepherds" (Jeremiah 23:1-2) who failed God and His people by scattering, destroying, dividing, and neglecting the flock, and then led them into sin and exile instead of guiding them with God's truth. God condemned these leaders for their self-serving, unfaithful guidance, promising punishment and a future "Good Shepherd." Daniel rebuked King Belshazzar of Babylon for his arrogance, idolatry, and disrespect towards God. This is just a small sampling of those chosen and direct by God to stir things up; to speak truth to power! 

From prison, John wants to know if and how Jesus whom he baptized was continuing in the Bible’s prophetic tradition of Speaking Truth to Power. And we are those people who know that that is just what Jesus did. He walked among the weak, the poor, and the oppressed. Like God, Jesus loved “the righteous; cared for the stranger, sustained the orphan and widow, and routinely frustrated the ways of the wicked – be they the priests in the Temple, or Herod’s appointed lackey in Jerusalem, Pontius Pilate, not to mention his challenges to the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Scribes. Read the four gospels and one sees Jesus speaking truth to power, challenging all the political parties and powers of his day on almost every page. He routinely named the demons before casting them out! 

That is, the Bible records a long and honored history of God appointing ordinary people to confront the political leadership as well as the religious leadership, not just of Israel, but of other countries as well. John and Jesus were two more in the long line of prophets whose writings and actions dominate long sections of our Biblical tradition. It is through the lives, actions, and writings of these prophets that our God routinely throughout history has stirred things up with great might to urge us to stand against all leadership that is damaging and sinful to the people of God. 

It was not long ago that the young German theologian Deitrich Bonhoeffer was teaching at Union Seminary in New York City. As the Nationalistic fascist dictatorship of Adolf Hitler was condemning more and more groups of people to concentration and death camps, Bonhoeffer made the decision to return to join those seeking to put an end to the Nazi regime, against the pleadings of his fellow faculty to stay in the relative safety of New York City. Arrested for his part in a plot to assassinate Hitler, he was imprisoned, and condemned to death by hanging on April 9, 1945. His final words to a fellow prisoner were, "This is the end—for me, the beginning of life". He also reportedly told someone to relay a message to Bishop George Bell, an Anglican theologian, Dean of Canterbury, Bishop of Chichester, member of the House of Lords and a pioneer of the ecumenical movement, and ally of The Confessing Church: "Tell the Bishop that I believe with him in the principle of our universal Christian brotherhood, which rises above all national interests, and that our victory is certain." I am quite sure Bonhoeffer did not view his actions as in any way heroic, but rather a matter of Chrisitan duty, consistent with the words and actions of Jesus and the long tradition of prophetic witness that runs from the beginning to the end of The Bible. 

A protestant pastor contemporary of Bonhoeffer, Martin Niemöller, at first a supporter of Hitler and the Nazi National Socialist regime, became an outspoken critic of the regime. Like a modern- day Jeremiah or Daniel, he preached against the abuses of the Nazi regime, and in May of 1934 formed The Confessing Church, an association of German churches who spoke out against the Nazi abuses. Eventually he was arrested, put on trial, and sent to several concentration camps, ending up in Dachau from where he was liberated by US Forces. Niemöller famously said: First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. 

“Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us…” This is our prayer. And in our Baptismal Covenant we promise to “respect the dignity of every human being.” What, then, are we to do when we hear the President of the United States call Africa and Haiti “shithole countries;” who calls Representative Ilhan Omar of Minnesota, who migrated to the United States from Somalia as a refugee, "garbage;" calls all refugees from Somalia “garbage;” calls the African nation of Somalia “filthy, dirty, disgusting, ridden with crime”? Who calls female journalists “obnoxious, stupid, piggy, ugly, incapable, terrible,” in public? Similar abuses occur on an almost daily basis. Begging the question: What is the real cost of silence? What is the real cost to our society? To our country? What is the damage being done to young boys and young men who will think such behavior toward people of other nations and women is not only all right, but to be the sanctioned prerogative of “real men” in today’s world? 

What would Jesus do and say? What would John the baptizer do and say?  What would Jeremiah do and say? What would Daniel, and Elijah, and yes, what would Moses do and say? Do we really want to pray for God to stir up his power among us? We witness on an almost weekly basis that God appoints people just like us to be those people who stir things up on God’s behalf. We promise in our baptism that all that we do and all that we say will proclaim the Good News of God in Christ. We partake of the Body and Blood of Christ every Sunday, but do we dare to follow in him in all that we do and say? Does God really want us to remain silent as women and people of color are regularly demeaned and publicly stripped of all dignity? Ask Martin Niemöller. Ask Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Ask almost any woman what it is like to see professional, competent women being publicly abused every day. 

May the Lord’s bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us from our daily sins of omission, and give us the courage to stand with all those who in the Biblical tradition have mustered the strength to Speak Truth to Power, just as Pastor Neimoeller and The Confessing Church finally did in May of 1934. May the Lord have mercy upon us all. Amen. 

PS Few if any of us can be like Jesus. We can all be like John and the prophets. 

Time For The New King Advent 2A

Time For The New King

Barbara Hall was one of our New Testament teachers in Seminary, and she often urged us to ask one simple, but important, question of the texts we are looking at: What time is it? Our Advent lessons in general all point us in one direction: It is time for something new, and God is already at work bringing God’s newness into being. More specifically, the lessons for this Second Sunday of Advent are all saying, one way or another: It is time for the new King. Or, as the prophet Jeremiah recently framed it: We have suffered under a series of bad shepherds. It is time for a new shepherd aligned with God’s purpose and intentions for us and for all of creation – creation which has also suffered under the policies of the bad shepherds. 

Isaiah 11:1-10, for instance, describes the political reality of the dynasty of David, and thus Israel, as having been reduced to a stump – the stump of Jesse. Jesse, of course is the father of the shepherd boy with the ruddy hair and complexion: David. His ancestral tree has been felled, Humiliated by the Assyrians in the eighth century BCE, and by the Exile to Babylon in the sixth century BCE. The poetry of Isaiah envisions a new shoot sprouting from the stump. Seemingly insignificant, easily missed or overlooked, and later perhaps, represented in this poem by the “nursing child” playing over the potentially dangerous “hole of the poisonous adder.” This child represents the new king, a new “good shepherd.” It is easy to imagine how it is the followers of Jesus some six hundred years later might latch onto this text and associate it with the man from Galilee. Jesus, a most unlikely king, who “shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins.” 

That is, the new king of God’s reign cannot be bought by bribes, nor manipulated by propaganda, and does not rule from a place apart from the people, but rather walks among the poor and the weak, those who are socially powerless, administering justice, healing, and feeding those who have been overlooked for so long by the powerful elites in Jerusalem. Righteousness and faithfulness to God’s purposes are the hallmarks of the new Good Shepherd. 

This image of the social and political responsibilities of national leadership is further supported by Psalm 72, in which the psalmist asks God to give the new king/good shepherd God’s own righteousness and justice, so that “he may rule your people righteously and the poor with justice…He shall defend the needy among the people; he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.  He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure, from one generation to another. He shall come down like rain upon the mown field, like showers that water the earth.” The office of the king is to equalize by a powerful intervention a social situation of enormous inequity: Caesar’s Rome is bleeding the people of crops, fish, and endless taxes, while offering business deals to the affluent despots who also are stealing family farms and vineyards to monopolize tremendous wealth. The new king makes a new world possible. Early Christians believe Jesus, humble unto death on a Roman Cross, is that new king Isaiah and Psalm 72 imagine! 

That is, the emerging early church repurposes the ancient scriptures to fit the current circumstances in the first century. Indeed, Paul writes to the believers in Rome, the church in the very heart of darkness, and who are already just a few decades after the resurrection divided and polarized among themselves: “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope. May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” Paul is encouraging a new practice in the church of the ways that the strong and the weak, the haves and have-nots, relate to each other in new faithfulness. For this has been God’s intention from the very beginning of time. Paul writes that it is time that we follow in the footsteps of the man from Galilee who worked outside the halls of power to unite all divisions within society, division that only allow the powerful elites to profit from the sufferings of a divided people. [Romans 15:4-13] 

Enter John the baptizer. [Matthew 3:1-12] Matthew also repurposes the poetry of Isaiah: ‘A voice cries out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’ Applying Isaiah’s text to the mission of John who says, in effect, “People, we are in the wilderness once again. It is time to repent of how we ignore the ways of the Lord. It is time to begin again as we did after the Exile!” Some Pharisees and Sadducees come down to the river to see what John and the people are up to. This is indeed and odd pairing, as these two political groups rarely come together at all. Yet, both are secure in believing that their respective approaches to life is the right way because they are faithful descendants of Abraham. John is inscrutable, and is on to them, and doubts that they are truly committed to a new way since they work tirelessly to preserve the old ways, hoping against hope that to do so will somehow free them from the iron rod of the Empire. They represent the gospel of what some have called Episcopal Whine: “We’ve always done it this way!” or, “We’ve never done it that way before!” John will have none of it. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” 

Then John lays it out in no uncertain terms: There is a new king, a good shepherd, coming who is mightier than I am. I baptize with water; he will baptize with water and fire! Either you are on the bus or off the bus! As those who know the rest of the story, Jesus the Good Shepherd embodied the visions of Isaiah and Psalm 72, standing in the breach between the haves and have nots, seeking justice for the poor, the weak, and all whose existence was irrelevant to those who walked in the halls of the powerful. Jesus even tried to reason with those who wanted to return to the past, uneasy to move forward into the new future God intends for all people. The powerful guardians of the past, the monopolists of wealth, and the leaders of both the Empire and the Temple tried to put the Good Shepherd out of the picture for good. 

But it did not work. There were those who saw him again after the crucifixion. Those who embodied his example. Some in every generation succeeded, while others were martyred for their efforts to unite rather than divide. Advent beckons us to look forward, not back. Advent means to be that season in which we try, once again like John and Jesus, to get our daily lives in sync with God’s rule, and invite others to do the same. It is the energy and power of God that may authorize and enable us to receive the new king and rejoice in a new obedience which attends to the neighbor. When we are so energized, we become dazzled by the fact that the whole of creation can begin again, healed, restored, forgiven. 

The news of God’s newness is indeed very good news. We can embrace it, receive it, and act upon it! But, can we? Are we tenured to the old ways? Comfortable with the lack of justice and the ever-widening gap of inequalities? The gates of God’s forgiveness and mercy are opened to one and all. Are we ready to enter those gates and embody the life of the Good Shepherd? And if not now, when? For Advent is more than four weeks once a year. The season of Advent is always here, now, every moment of every day, calling us to walk in The Way of the Lord. We are meant to ask ourselves, “What time is it?” What time is it? It’s time for the new king. Amen.