Jesus is risen!  Alleluia! Now what? As unpopular as the answer might be today, scripture is pretty clear that the command is to go forth and build a church. By church, scripture isn’t referring to a building or a denomination.  They mean a community with a hierarchical structure, internal expectations and a guiding mission. All of which is unpopular because people today don’t seem to have a lot of trust in the church. The cover of Newsweek last week was a picture of Jesus with the headline that read, “Forget the Church, Just Follow Jesus”.  A hot viral video last year was a posting by a guy titled, “Why I Hate Religion but Love Jesus”. For many, the church represents a wrong turn in their relationship with God not the natural next step after encountering the risen Lord. 

It is not hard for us to list the reasons that people dismiss or dislike the church today. They dismiss it because it is largely ineffective. Our churches tend to look more like poorly run clubs than radical expressions of the gospel. They fight among themselves and lack unity splitting over issues at the local and national level. Their pastors lack passion, leading worship of God that lacks effort. Their outreach is hard to notice in the pews or in the streets.

Many aren’t just dismissive but dislike the church. They are responding to the scandals that make headlines: sexual scandals with pastors praying on children or trusting members, financial scandals where money given generously as a response to God’s grace is used greedily, illegally or just foolishly by leadership, scandals of hypocrisy like the prominent Colorado pastor who led a crusade against homosexuality while secretly carrying out a homosexual affair. When the churches do make the news it is so negative that one poll found that the majority of Americans had an unfavorable opinion of people who attend church.

Jesus is Risen! Alleluia! Now what? The scripture witness is to build a church, but not like the churches we have today. In the lesson from John, Jesus confronts his disciples as they are asking what now. His answer was to breathe on them. An action that should remind us of God breathing in Adam’s lungs at the moment of creation that brought him to life. Jesus’ breath would give them the Spirit and the authority to gather people in his name. Creating a community that would share his breath, his Spirit with the rest of creation. Jesus’ breath was a gift for the disciples intended to be shared and multiplied in the world. Jesus is Risen! Alleluia! Now what? Take my Spirit and share it by the communities created in my name.

In our lesson from the book of Acts we see what that early church looked like. If you grew up in the Cold War as I did, you might be uncomfortable to find out it looks a lot like communism. People are selling all of their goods, giving up their property then laying it at the feet of their church leaders so that it could be shared with other members of the church in need. Isn’t that what Lenin did in Russia in 1917? The early church was not just a radical place then, it would be a radical looking place today, too.

Just this one practice speaks clearly God’s expectation of the church. Jesus expected communities gathered in his name to share their wealth as a radical expression of grace. Whether those in need deserve it or will use it wisely is never asked. Undeserved acts of love should be the dominant action of a church who follows a God who shares his love with us though we do not deserve it. People in the early church were to do this because with Jesus’ breath, they had the heart of God, who is offended by poverty. God created our world with abundance, and people in need means that the world is not as God intended. The early church members did this great act of love voluntarily, too, not to earn prestige in the community or the love of God in heaven. They did it because they had Jesus’ breath, the Spirit, and they were called to create a church. A church where grace is freely shared in tangible ways, just like Jesus freely shared in a very tangible way on the cross.

Barnabas is an example of someone who did this well, for all the right reasons. Ananias and Saphira are an example of someone who did this for all the wrong reasons. They lied and misrepresented their gift to Peter, the leader of the church. They didn’t have the best interest of the poor in their church in mind, but their own best interest. They trusted themselves, over trusting God’s grace. The verdict on someone who would do such a thing in God’s church is harsh. God struck them dead. It takes our breath away that God would care this much by how God’s people act in his name. It reminds us that Church in God’s eyes is serious business. It is God’s hope for transformation, reconciliation of the creation.

Jesus is Risen! Alleluia! Now what? We are to build a church but not one that can be dismissed as ineffectual or disliked because it looks nothing like Jesus. We are to build a church where God’s radical grace is acted upon by the sacrifices her members make and not just preached or given lip service. A church that is offended by hypocritical acts of her members so much that if God struck them dead in front of us we would understand. A church that cares for each other not just by words, but in ways that actually puts food on their tables or keep their lights on.

Jesus is Risen!  Alleluia! Now what? We create a radical church that is focused on one thing and one thing only, being a picture of what God hopes all the communities of the world will look like one day. This kind of church might still receive scorn in our world, but it would be a beacon of hope for all.

For the most fortunate, there are dedicated caregivers, usually a spouse or an adult child, but sometimes a close friend. These people give days, months even years of their lives for a person they love passionately. They do things for them that most of us would shrink from doing for a stranger, cleaning wounds, wiping bottoms, showering and bathing, feeding, tolerating mood swings that can cause almost hateful things to come out of the mouth of the one who is sick, and then reassuring this same person when they get fearful or full of regret.

I often hear two things. From the caregiver, they tell me they would do nothing else. For them, these acts of love are just a small token of what they had received. From the one being cared for, they are always thankful, but this is coupled with discomfort even anger that they have to be cared for like this. I understand this mixed reaction. Few of us want our daughters or sons to clean our soiled clothes, dress us, or bathe us. Nearly, all of us would appreciate their gift while simultaneously uncomfortable while it is being given.

You hear this discomfort in Peter’s voice, when Jesus kneels and begins to bathe his battered and tired feet.  Lord, I need this but I don’t want this. Jesus reprimands him, but with love, telling him in so many words sometimes we refuse the thing we need the most. Maybe, Jesus is telling him not to let his pride and self reliance get in the way of a good gift of grace. Like a wife of a husband dying of cancer, Jesus loves Peter and kneeling at his feet and washing them is an opportunity to show that love, not a burden to be endured.

In the book of John, this foot washing happens at the beginning of an important night. Jesus has gathered his disciples for a final meal before the traumatic and horrifying days ahead, which will be full of betrayal, humiliation, torture, tears and death. In the following days, his two most trusted disciples, Peter and Judas will betray him. But, Jesus’ primary concern is not how the disciples will abandon him. Instead, he seems to regret that he will abandon them, orphan them, and leave them.

If they are to survive without him, they will do so only by loving each other as sacrificially as he has loved them. Mutual love will be their greatest gift as they wait for the resurrection. By washing their feet, he is equipping them, showing them how to love each other when he is gone. Baptism has cleansed us from our past. Foot washing will cleanse us for what we have yet encountered. This is the role of the church in our lives. We are called to love each other as family. To take care of each other without thought as an adult daughter would carefully bathe her dying mother.

If it is difficult for us to let our closest friend comfort us when we are hurting, how much more difficult is it to let our brother and sister in Christ? Pride, a crippling self reliance that keeps us from living life, a needless fear of burdening someone else who has offered to help, a vain embarrassment that someone should see us naked emotionally or actually. For these reasons we reject the hands of Christ that reach out to us when we need a ride to church on Sunday morning, someone to stay overnight in our house when we are sick, a trip to the grocery or pharmacy when we are recovering. We deny the gift that Jesus left for us in his absence when we deny these offers from each other.

Tonight, as an exercise in trusting the community of Christ that Jesus left for us in his absence, I would encourage you to come forward and have your feet washed. It is uncomfortable to have someone you respect, even honor kneel and serve you, holding a part of your body that is normally covered up. Jesus commands us to love our neighbor. Implicit in that command is to let people love us. Until the last day, we are all we have to fortify us in a world where the currency of love is not honored. Tonight, let our church leaders help you practice the humbling act of letting someone care for you.

Thankfully, Hollywood has not made that movie yet. I just made it up, but I did so to make a point. To really enjoy a great drama, or even a bad one, we can’t come in at the end. No matter how powerful the ending to enjoy it and be moved by it we need to experience the entire movie. What makes endings great is our connection with the characters and themes that were built up through the entire story.

My worry is this is how Easter is for many who come here to worship next Sunday. Don’t get me wrong, I love the crowd. Last year we had nearly 1000 people here on Easter Sunday, well over double what we would have on a normal Sunday. And I am not one of those people that sniff and turn their nose up at people that only come on Christmas and Easter. Sure, I would love to see everyone more often, but I am excited whenever people come to church. The more the merrier. The crowd makes the party happen.

My worry is that many of our people are like Pastor Thadd in our children’s sermon ready to party, but not really sure what the party is all about. It is like hearing the end of the great story, but really not knowing the story that you are hearing the ending too. We are indeed going to have a party next Sunday here at Messiah, all sorts of special music, even a brass band, a sanctuary overflowing with lilies, surely crowds of people in great outfits, especially the kids in tiny ties and cute hats with flowers. The party is for the ending of the story of Jesus in scripture that begins the story of the church. He lives! We live! However, we can all enjoy the party much more if we know the story whose ending we are celebrating.

Preparing us for the party of Easter is what Holy Week is all about.  The idea is that the three worship services on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, get us ready for the biggest party of the church year. Using scripture, song, sermons, dramas, and prayers we spend the three hours of Holy Week telling the entire story of Jesus and his last week.  Even better, it is not just a listening thing but a participation thing.  Great rituals at every service draw us out of our seats and into the story.

Maundy Thursday is centered on Jesus’ last night with his disciples. His two last gifts to his disciples are at the heart of our service, a foot washing and a meal.  It is a short simple service, but one you are a part from beginning to end. Experience the discomfort even offense of the disciples having someone you respect and honor kneel at your feet to wash them. Come to the meal we share weekly but this week kneel, reflect, remember in a significant way the sacrifice Christ made for you.  The service ends early and actually a new one begins right after, called the Tennebree. This is a ritual stripping of the altar in preparation for Good Friday, done in a reverent holy way around special music and scripture. It is haunting but beautiful and a favorite moment of Holy Week.

Come back Friday and the sanctuary will be dark almost barren. Good Friday at Messiah has become a showcase of all our choirs and Praise Band, as the crucifixion of Jesus is retold. Traditional hymns are sung and heard and new ones are offered, too. The cross is carried in and this year it will be surrounded by tens of candles of hope.  There is a new baptism ritual too this year that draws us into the painful gift of the cross. The service ends in complete darkness with a door slam and we leave in silence.

Saturday is possibly the most hopeful of the services of worship we have at Messiah. It is meant to have all of us ponder what it means that Jesus is lying dead in the tomb between the cross and the resurrection. How do we find hope in our own lives when all seems lost is the question at the heart of this service? There are new dramas in this service that tell the story of people in scripture who have found hope before. There is movement in the service from outside, throughout the church and ending at the altar. There are special adult and children baptisms at the center and our own opportunity to be covered in the oil of the adopted family of God. People bring bells to ring in joy when we enter the sanctuary.  It begins in the darkness of the tomb but ends in uplifting joy.

Come back on Easter and hear the great story of Jesus risen that begins our story of a life of faith. Come ready to eat, because no party at Messiah happens without a great meal.  Our Fellowship group is preparing a breakfast for everyone between the services. It will be a celebration. Yet, this year, go one step farther, receive the fullness of this story, by enjoying the richness of the three worship services that lead us to Sunday. Set your DVR’s that evening, and come and worship. It is three hours of your life, but they are three hours that will impact your faith.

Now, let us prepare this morning for this week of worship with a sort of preview of things to come.  Our excellent organist Erni will lead us into transition.

Test.  Find a list of the Ten Commandments.  Read them carefully.  When you hear one that you have broken in the last few weeks, you can stop. 

What is going on here?  Why is there not one person among us with their hands raised?  What is that all about? The great church founder in the New Testament Paul himself at one point said that he was blameless under the law and he encouraged other Christians to strive to be blameless, too. Even though he preached we were freed from the law, he still thought that we should be following the law. Have we forgotten this as Christians? Does it matter if we are all saved by grace anyway and God promises to forgive us no matter what laws we break?

Back in the 80’s the Toledo police officers went on strike.  Memory tells me it was less than a day, but for a while there were no traffic officers. Think about it. You could do whatever you wanted on the streets of Toledo. My initial thought was that there would be chaos on the roads, but there wasn’t. I followed pretty much every law and from what I could see, everyone else did, too. I say pretty much, because admittedly there was that red light at Harvest and Talmadge at 10 pm with no one around that I thought, why not? Everyone seemed to agree that day, without having to have police there to remind us that the world is a safer place if all the drivers simply obey the law.

Paul knew what I know you know that the world is a safer place if we all follow the laws. Paul was clear that following these laws do not make us right with God. Only Jesus makes us right with God. Yet, to live a life that God hopes we will live, following these laws is a good place to start. The Ten Commandments are meant to be boundaries for us that define our relationship with each other and our relationship with God. God, who conquered chaos on the first day of creation, gives us these laws so that we can conquer chaos in our lives.

I wonder though, what would have happened if the Toledo police had stayed on strike longer? My guess is that all of us would have begun more often to decide that this or that particular law was not especially important to follow at this or that particular moment. For myself, I have no doubt that cautiously going through a red light on an empty street would be followed by increasing the speed limit by twenty miles per hour on a dry street, followed by quickly zipping down an empty one way street just for a block because why drive all the way around when there is no one around anyway and of course why not park for a minute in front of a fire hydrant. I mean what are the chances of a fire breaking out while I run into that store?

It seems like this is how our human mind works when we are freed from the law. I am not talking about the laws we break by doing horrible things, it is the little ones that don’t seem to matter that we easily justify to ourselves. Should it matter that no one had their hand up at the end of our exercise this morning? I am guessing for the most part you were thinking of “minor” infractions in your own life as I read off the Ten Commandments.

Thou shalt not lie, well I just filled out my taxes, how can you do that and not lie, right? Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy, if holy includes worship, which I believe at a minimum it does, than half of our active people at Messiah missed that one by missing worship last week. Thou shalt not use the Lord’s name in vain. If I could get through a day without inserting God’s name into a sentence where it doesn’t belong that would seem a miracle.

Paul thought it mattered. Even though he passionately preached that we are only condemned by the law and that
the law only serves to prove we are hopeless sinners. The most perfect among us will still fall short of being sinless.  Paul preached that we are saved by Christ alone. Yet, in the same letters he laid this out so clearly, he also taught that it mattered how we acted in the world. As children of God, followers of Christ, we should strive to be blameless Paul said and we should grieve when we fall short.

The goodness of laws is that they define our relationship with others. They are a contract, a promise that this is who we will be and we will trust that this is who our neighbor will be. Every day at a traffic light that is green we trust this promise will be kept by all the strangers waiting at the other road in the intersection. We break that promise when we turn right on red even though the sign says clearly not to. Chaos may happen immediately when a car hits us. Or the results of breaking that relationship might be harder to pin down. Maybe, a sixteen year old driver behind us sees us turn and figures he can do it too without incident. A month later at that same intersection someone smacks into him when he does this. Laws define our relationship with others. When we break them, even the little ones, ripples of chaos are sent out. It is hard for us even to know where the ripples will end up. Maybe they will wash up on shore. Maybe they will become waves that capsize the boat.

What Paul knew was that while Christ saved us from being condemned by the law, he didn’t free us to live without the law. As individuals, our humanity becomes distorted when we begin to disregard the laws that society has agreed to. We begin to justify our needs before others. It starts as no big deal, and likely that one time was not, yet each compromise, each justification, each rational reason why the law does not apply this time, harms us a little and harms the world just a little, too. It becomes easier to put our needs before others the next time. The ripples of chaos from our life become larger, stronger and cause more damage. We no longer live the life God had hoped. The creation is no longer moving to the hope God has held.

In baptism, God made a promise to each of us to love us no matter what. We can trust God’s promise.  No matter whom we become. No matter how distorted our lives become.  No matter how far from our promises we fall, God will love us. God will continue to love us. God can’t break God’s promises so God can’t stop loving us.

The promise God made to us in the waters of our baptism is answered by our promise to love God and God’s creation no matter what. Take that promise seriously by trusting like Paul that our life is better with these Ten Commandments than without them. There are consequences when we disregard them. Consequences that injure our lives and that injure God’s world.

So there were these slaves in Egypt, who had been enslaved for a couple of hundred years or so. They were the Israelites. The one and true God had a special heart for these slaves. Don’t ask me why, they looked like you and I, acted just as bad as you and I, nothing really special about them, but God thought they were special. God heard their cries in Egypt and decided to free them from slavery.

God got a guy named Moses involved, unwillingly at first.  Moses’ job was to convince Pharaoh, the king of Egypt that it was in his economic interest to let them go. Moses had a tough job. Grasshoppers, frogs, gnats, boils, locusts, hail, all sorts of things happened before Pharaoh agreed with God that the Israelites should be freed.

You would think the story would end here with everyone happy, but once freed these slaves had to find a place to go. From what I can tell of the real estate market in the Middle East in the fifteenth century BC, there weren’t a lot of worthwhile places to buy. The best plots of land already had people that didn’t want to move. So, it took a while for the Israelites to find a place to call home, a long while, like over 40 years. And during those 40 years it wasn’t like they were staying at a Hyatt resort inMyrtle Beach, either. 40 years living in tents in the desert. Water was a problem. Food was a problem. Complaining was a problem.

It was the complaining that seemed to rub God the wrong way. Complaining is a funny thing isn’t it?  When we complain we do so because we think life could be better if only…if only I had been an only child, if only I had only had one child, if only I hadn’t worn tight hats when I was in my 20’s I wouldn’t be bald today, medical fact, Google it.   Complaining is when we regret something that we had trusted. In an alternate universe we picture a lot better life, if only…

Complaining irritates God, I suspect, because it implies that God is not trustworthy. God why did you lead us out of slavery, couldn’t you see how bad it was going to be in this desert, living in tents for 40 years? We trusted you and now you let us down. Oh, if only we had continued to trust Pharaoh, he wasn’t so bad. The work was hard, but at least you had three squares every day.

This is where the story gets…weird.  There are all sorts of odd stories in the bible. For those stories, I take Martin Luther seriously and look for Christ in them. Luther taught that the purpose of scripture is to reveal Jesus. In some scripture it is easy to find Jesus. In other stories, like this one, you might have to do some digging, but I believe there is a nugget of gospel to be found.

Scripture says that God got so irritated at these complaining former slaves that God sent poisonous snakes into their tent city. The snakes started doing what snakes with big fangs and venom do best, biting and killing people.  The people got scared stopped complaining right off, and then begged Moses to do something. It was this part of the story that caught my eye. They confessed to Moses that they had sinned against God.

Sinned against God, we think of sin as the wrong things we do. God wants us to behave ourselves and when we sin we are not doing that. Most of us have a pretty good idea what wrong things we have done, but let’s face it is a lot more fun to name other people’s wrong things than our own. So usually when we talk about sin in the church it is about other people’s sins, telling the rest of the world the wrong things they are doing.

Yet, if sin is the wrong things we do, than the only wrong thing the Israelites did was a little complaining.  C’mon, 40 years wandering around in a desert, living in tents, always hungry, always thirsty, always dirty, always in danger of attack by someone who claimed the land you were wandering upon. Slavery in Egypt was bad, but they have a point, this isn’t a vast improvement.  And for a little complaining, God sends venomous snakes into their tents?  God seems dangerously impatient in this story.

If we complicated the idea of sin a little bit, we end up with a clearer picture of what has God so ticked off. Sin isn’t the wrong things we do. Sin happens when we trust the wrong things. This doesn’t mean that there are no right or wrong actions. Our actions indicate what we trust. We sin when we trust anything or anyone other than God.

Trust is the heart of any relationship. The Israelites trusted God to free them from slavery, and God was worthy of that trust. Now, as they were wandering in that desert, they were beginning to wonder whether God was still worthy of that trust. By complaining to God the Israelites were signaling their growing lack of trust in God. The complaining indicated they had stopped trusting God.

Maybe a quick story can help us out. When I was 17 and had been dating my wife Paige for over a year, my best friend DJ started dating Ann, a good friend of Paige’s, too.  Paige trusted me completely so she thought nothing of Ann and me playing tennis together after school. One evening when I drove Ann home after a tennis match, I lingered just a little too long on her front porch and ended up kissing her, briefly, for a second, hardly even a peck.

When the story gets retold, it is always Karl kissed his best friend’s girlfriend and that was why we broke up for a couple of months when we were 17. While this is true, there was more to the story. Frankly, the kiss was brief and passionless and I regretted the moment after it happened.  However, that simple kiss revealed what was already going on in my relationship with Paige. The relationship was already in trouble. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been kissing another girl. One little kiss indicated that I was open to trusting someone else for my high school happiness. The kiss didn’t break up our relationship, just pointed to what was already true. Our relationship was dying and could not be revived until I trusted Paige was the one for me and she trusted that I wouldn’t be shopping for a replacement.

People really died when the venomous snakes entered the tent city in the desert wilderness. This troubles me about the story but trusting something or someone other than God with your life brings death. There is only one way to live a whole and full life and that is to live life in relationship with God. Sin is when we fall out of that relationship with God by trusting another way to live, even when we are hungry, even when we are thirsty, even when we are tired, even when there is a cute girl in a tennis skirt next to you on a front porch in West Toledo. Sin is death because there is only one way to live and that is trusting God. The venomous snakes that killed the Israelites were a sign of what was already going on; the relationship was dead because of sin.

So the Israelite realized they had sinned by trusting someone, something other than God to make their stay in the desert worthwhile or bearable at least. God may be the jealous type, but he is a sucker for a good apology. Believe me God needs a lot less convincing that we have changed than my wife did when we were 17. God is always willing to trust us again. So God had Moses make a bronze snake, put it on a stick and raise it up among the people that God loved so much. They were told to stare at the snake and the venom would leave them and they would live.

Again, this sounds crazy to our 21st century sensibilities; but let’s play with it as metaphor for a second. The venom killing the Israelites is like their sin, their lack of trust in God. It is killing them. The only way to live is to get rid of the venom. To do that, the Israelites needed to focus again on God. If they keep their eyes on God, they will find life.  If they focus again on God, they will trust God again.

Back to Paige, she forgave me, too. I confessed and asked for forgiveness that night, literally that night. She thought the best way for me to trust again that she was the girl for me and for her to trust that I wasn’t out interviewing new girls in cute tennis skirts was to make me focus on her for a while. I was kept on the proverbial short leash. To rebuild our relationship, I needed to give her my full attention again.

Jesus used this story of snakes in the desert, venom and sin when he was talking about the cross he would be raised up onto. Just as God saved the Israelites whom he loved so much by raising a snake on a stick among them, God would save us, the rest of the world, whom he loves so much by raising his son on a stick. The command for us would be the same as the one Moses gave those ex slaves, stare at the cross and the venom, your sin, will leave. The venom of a life lived without God will kill you. It is only by staring at Jesus lifted up, and not let our eyes wander, will we find life.  Amen

We would get to our bus stop early and play around, football, tag, four square, that sort of thing.  One time he convinced us to climb on his roof using the antenna pole.  He had to badger us to do it, because frankly we were all kind of terrified. Not of getting caught, but of falling off.  Well, his older sister heard about it and she told her mom. Danny’s mom cornered him and he told his mom that it was my idea. She marched over to my house and told my mom. My mom told my dad when he came home and let’s just say it didn’t end well for me that evening.

Danny selling me out did not surprise me.  Danny lying was a common occurrence. It was an excepted fact by me at the tender age of 8, that Danny couldn’t be trusted. I played with Danny nearly every day, but I pretty much knew to take everything he said with a grain of salt, and to watch my back if we got in trouble together. Danny’s promises meant nothing to me.

In the season of Lent, we are going to explore promises.   Promises God makes to us. Promises we make to God or should be making to God. Asking questions whether God can be trusted and whether we are more like Danny than we care to admit when it comes to our promises to God.

Tonight we start the season of Lent with Ash Wednesday.  The ashes are meant to remind us that we are the created, made from dust in the great Genesis story and in death we will return to dust. We are not the creator. God is the one who formed us from dust. God is the one who will reawaken that dust in the resurrection. We put ashes on our forehead to say aloud to each other, to ourselves and to God that everything that has ultimate value in our life depends on God. If this relationship is out of whack, if we believe that we don’t need God or that God is not the boss of me, than our entire life gets out of whack.

The promise we are making tonight when we come forward is to straighten out this relationship. The fancy church word for promising to fix the relationship with God is repentance. Repentance simply means that we are going to change, turn around, and do things differently than before.

In the church rituals of repentance are centered on a confession and tonight is no different. In moments we will share this confession together. The point of the confession, and this is important, is not to itemize all of the things that we have done wrong. We are not being asked tonight to pull out a list of misdeeds and mumble those to ourselves in our pew. Instead, we are being asked for something even greater, to change the motivation that led us to those misdeeds. Tonight, we are making a promise to trust God with our life and no longer ourselves.

You see if Danny would have came to me and said, Karl, I am sorry that I lied to my mom and told her it was your idea that we get on the roof, I would have been appreciative, but I likely would not have trusted him in the future. What I needed to hear from Danny, although at eight I couldn’t have known this of course, was Karl no longer will my primary concern by my own well being.  From now on Karl, I will worry about others before myself.

Do you see the difference? Just admitting that he lied in that one instance, just confessing a single simple sin, would not indicate a larger hope to stop the lies that had become a part of his life, to right the wrong direction that he was on that had made him a person who could not be trusted. The first is simply confession, the second is repentance, a promise to change who we have become.

Danny’s proclivity for lying, his wrong direction ended up leading me to find a new best friend when I was nine. His lying broke our relationship. This is what Sin does, break relationships. More troubling, Danny ended up in jail when he was nineteen. When we keep going in the wrong direction, eventually we find ourselves so far from God and our lives so distorted, returning seems impossible. Continuing on the wrong path becomes the easiest way to go. Tonight is the night we change course. Tonight, we make a promise to move closer to God.

Then what? What promise can we make that lived out in the next forty days will draw us closer to God?  What could we add or take away from our life that will help us trust God completely again? What promise could we not just make, but keep that will help us remember that God is in control, not us?

Let me tell you mine. Last Friday I went to hear some lectures at the seminary. They started in the morning and I drink a lot of coffee in the morning. This means that I am going to have to get up often to take care of business. The older people in the crowd tonight know what I am talking about. The only seat that was near the door so that I could leave while the guy was talking without causing a disruption was next to this pretty young woman. There were a lot of seats available, but only one near the door. I didn’t want this young woman to think I was a creepy old guy hitting on her or anything. So, I candidly told her my problem with mornings and coffee and such.

She laughed, said she understood and held out her hand introducing herself as Laura.  Now, I just wanted to tell her why I was sitting there. I didn’t want to talk to her or visit with her. I wasn’t here to make friends. So, I shook her hand mumbled my name was Karl, then picked up my Dispatch and turned my back to her, giving her the obvious signal, that our conversation stops here. She was a smart woman, got the hint and didn’t say another word.

Everything was fine I thought, until at the break, this other woman came over to greet her. I recognized the other woman. She is one of Thadd and Laura’s best friends. When I saw her, I immediately made the connection that the girl I had rudely turned my back too was their good friend too. I was mortified, but I wasn’t upset that I had been rude. I was upset that she was going to go back and tell Thadd and Laura what a jerk I was. I was upset that I had been revealed by this spy in the seat next to me, to be a pompous, unfriendly creep.

So, for the next forty days I promise to treat all people as if God, God’s self was before me. So that I am held accountable, I promise every evening before I go to bed to consider at least three people I was with that day and evaluate how I did in a journal. I tend to act Christ like when I am on stage, when people know me and have expectations of me. Left alone, when talking to the waitress or the receptionist at the doctor’s office, those Christ like actions slip away. Somewhere within me, I have forgotten that all my actions are accountable to God, not just those that others hold me accountable for. I have forgotten I answer to God, my creator. My journey has gotten just a little off kilter. I need to repent and right the ship.

Come forward tonight and simply promise to begin the journey, your own journey back to God. Go home then and consider what promise you can make to draw closer to God in these forty days. What promise will right your relationship between creator and created? Bring that promise with you on Sunday, we will have a special and unique way for you to offer it to God for Lent.

This is what every person of faith hopes for, to brush this close to heaven. Scholars take pains to explain the rich symbolism in the story, for example why Moses and Elijah meet Jesus and not David and Abraham, or what the whole booth thing is about that Peter wants to build. But, you don’t have to be a scholar to understand what happened. Three humans get this close to God, a breath away from heaven. This is a fascinating idea for all of us. I’ve got books on my shelf about near death experiences, following the light, that sort of stuff. We all want to know what heaven looks like, what God sounds like. The disciples hit the jackpot on the mountain that day. 

I bet they couldn’t wait to tell everyone else.  Oh wait, Jesus in wet blanket mode tells them to keep it a secret.  “Do not tell anyone.”  Really?  No one.  Not the other disciples so their faith would be bolstered. Not the crowds so their numbers would grow?  Not the temple priests so their enmity would be halted.  Not the Romans so they may have second thoughts when cruelly treating the Son of God. No one. How does that help the plan, Jesus?

Maybe Jesus just didn’t want to start a fight at home, right? C’mon, the other disciples would get jealous if they heard about this.  “Let us go up the mountain next Jesus and see heaven.” Before you know it, Jesus would be having daily hikes up that mountain and he, they or us would never get to the rest of the story.  “Don’t tell the others because you know how insecure they are.”

Or maybe, Peter, James and John were just not supposed to be there. Ever think of that?  Maybe, this sort of thing happened for Jesus all the time, you know mid game huddles with some of the coaches on the side line, but Jesus was always by himself. Who has never marked an event on their calendar on the wrong date?  If true, the first thing Jesus likely said to Moses and Elijah was, “I thought you said the twelfth, not the eleventh. Sorry, I brought these guys up here for looking for mushrooms.”

I know that sounds unlikely, but think about it, why don’t we ever get to see heaven?  Huh? Why are all these near death experiences we read about exactly that, near death, not death itself. Could it be that heaven is so cool that once you see it who wants to slog through the messiness of life?  Peter seems to want to build a couple of huts up there and stay for a while.  What kind of transformation of creation could be accomplished in Jesus if the Jesus movement becomes a suicide cult to get to the glories of heaven?  “Do me a favor guys, don’t tell anyone about this. If everyone saw what you saw, God’s plan would never work out.”

Why would Jesus keep the disciples from telling the coolest thing that ever could have happened to any disciple? Maybe it just wasn’t meant for us. It was their experience and not our experience.  The disciples are being transformed on this mountain. I know the point is that Jesus is transformed, transfigured, but really what changes is the disciples.  They had a religious experience on that mountain that changed how they would see and understand everything from that moment on. Religious experiences don’t change our physical circumstances as much as they change our perspective.

If Peter, James and John went up poor, they came down poor.  If their marriages were shaky that morning, they likely were shaky that evening, too.  If their kids were a pain in the you know what, their you know what is likely hurting at the bottom of the hill, too. After seeing heaven, seeing Jesus glorified, seeing so clearly God’s plan, they were never going to be able to see anything else the same again. Love was redefined on that mountain. Don’t you think that is going to make their relationship with their wife and children different? The glories of heaven were laid before them. Don’t you think that is going to put their financial struggle in a new perspective?

They had a religious experience and it transformed them.  Maybe, they weren’t asked to keep a secret. Jesus just didn’t think their experience would be pertinent to our life.  Maybe, we each have to climb up and have our own mountaintop experience.   “Don’t tell anyone, Peter, James and John, because everyone has to get to this mountain themselves.”  There is a mountaintop waiting to shake us all up so that we can see our life with God’s eyes.

Scholars have reasons for secret. In the book of Mark you can draw a straight line from the baptism of Jesus to the cross and that line travels through this mountain.  Mark’s book opens at the baptism of Jesus and on that day God speaks in a cloud too, saying, “You are my son.” Sound familiar? After some teaching and miracles we get to today’s story on the mountain, with God, a cloud and something similar, “This is my son.”  Mark ends on a hill called Golgotha, where these similar words again are spoken, this time are in the mouth of a Roman soldier, a Gentile, after Jesus dies, “Surely, this is God’s Son.”

This structure in Mark indicates that Mark’s theme is to not only identify Jesus as the Son of God, but explain fully what that means. What happened on the mountain had to stay on the mountain until they could see the cross. Jesus glorified, transfigured is only part of the revelation of what it meant it to be God’s son. Before they could preach this sermon, they needed the rest of the story.  Jesus tells them to keep this a secret, “Don’t tell anyone because you still don’t know what the entire story is all about.”

Transfiguration Sunday is the pivot point in our church calendar. Epiphany, the season of light has been building to this day, where the light is so bright it is almost frightening. Epiphany ends on a mountaintop with an event that every disciple dreams of taking part. Epiphany ends with a religious experience that like all religious experiences changes Peter, James and John’s perspective forever.

Yet, we don’t move from this mountain to the hill of Golgotha where Jesus is tortured and killed or even to the tomb that is empty.  We take our time to get to these events.  We take 40 days starting on Wednesday and not counting Sundays. This is time to travel with the disciples down the mountain and discover again what it means that Jesus is the Son of God. We shouldn’t preach this sermon until we are clear what it means, too.

At the end of this service we will ritually bury the Alleluias. This is our promise to keep what we saw under wraps until the rest of the picture comes into focus.  This is our promise to be patient to understand God’s cross before we can announce God’s glory.  Maybe, in these 40 days, in the rich worship services we have before us, we will have a religious experience comparable to what happened to Peter, James and John that day, something that changes forever how we see the world. Sometimes, if we get quiet as we are called to be in Lent and simply follow Jesus as Peter, James and John did that day, we stumble upon something glorious.  Let that be all of our prayer for the next forty days.    Amen.

A number of years ago now, I decided to shake things up in the summer by preaching on several controversial topics in a row. My hope was that it would increase attendance. Homosexuality, abortion, the death penalty, heaven and hell, it was a smorgasbord of tough issues for the church. To make sure people knew that the sparks were going to fly, we sent out postcards to all of our members telling them to come and hear.

The hordes of people we hoped for did not come, but something else did happen. It made a nervous wreck of me. I was so afraid I was going to say something that would get you mad that I was overly observant of your reactions. Any movement or facial change, would startle me, “I think Charlie just grimaced. Did I hear Ron groan? Does Charlotte look mad? Why are Howard’s eyes closed? Oh, he is just asleep. That’s normal.”

At one service, a long time member in the back got up in the middle of the sermon and ran right up the center aisle and out the back door, right when I was saying the most controversial things. I stuttered. Stopped. My mind went blank. I had to go get my notes to continue. I had really made someone mad. After the service, she was nowhere to be found. I was in a panic. That night I called her up to apologize and possibly finesse what I had said. “Well, you probably thought I meant this, but really, really, that isn’t quite what I meant.” She answered the phone. I said hi. She said, “Pastor, I am glad you called.” Here it comes. “I owe you an apology.” Huh? “I have had the flu and I had no business coming to church, but I really wanted to hear what you had to say and I was loving it. I am just so embarrassed I had to run out like that. You don’t want to know why.”

Her leaving had nothing to do with me and for that matter, my sermon series overall seems not to have affected attendance at all. This is always difficult for me to accept. I am not the primary reason most often that people come to this church or leave this church. People choose churches for a variety of reasons and consistently when asked they rate the pastor as fourth or fifth on their list of considerations. Preaching doesn’t seem to impress the average church goer when questioned. Pastors surveyed consistently rate their preaching as excellent, while parishioners rate their pastor’s preaching as middling or worse. Yet, they still attend. Why?

If it isn’t because of me, why are people coming to Messiah? We grew again in worship last year to 387. Our giving is up 8% to $436,000. Unfortunately we are bucking the trend in the ELCA, which is finding their churches shrinking. Even our neighbors in Columbus are struggling. Even though I tell my mom something different when I talk to her in Toledo on Sunday night, what I know about churches tells me Messiah isn’t growing because of me.

I can come up with several reasons. The most obvious is that here they fill their God hole. This is a term I like that gets at that spiritual sense within each and every human, the mark of our creator within us. This is what our friends are talking about when they say they are spiritual but not religious. In our fundamental make up as species, we all long for God, to know God, to experience God, to trust God, to be in the presence of God. People come to Messiah to fill that God hole.

This can’t be the entire reason, however. There are many good churches in our area they could come to meet this spiritual need. Why Messiah if it isn’t because you have one young, athletic, handsome pastor and Pastor Thadd, too? We know from Church growth gurus that our building is a plus. Buildings are important. People feel more welcome in churches that are neat, orderly and clean, like their homes. A church entrance should look at least as nice as the entrances to the homes around us. Plus, things like fellowship space, modern big bathrooms, spacious bright nurseries are important. Which is why several years ago, we built all those things at Messiah. It has helped. Significant growth has occurred since that building project.

By the way, council would like for me to mention that we are still paying for that great addition. When you make your commitment today, we are hoping every family at Messiah promises at least $10 a week to the building fund, even more if you could afford it. Our mortgage was the only area we were short last year in a year full of positive results.

The building helps, but I doubt if anyone here when asked would say they come to Messiah because of it. Plus, churches have built similar things and have not experienced growth. If it isn’t that you have an articulate, intelligent preacher and associate pastor, and not just the building, what else? Surely, part of the answer has to be our ministries. People want to be a part of churches that are impacting the world. They want to make a difference with the time they commit to their church.

In our Messiah Moving Forward Meetings last week in we heard and saw that we are impacting this world. Over 200 kids, most from outside our membership rolls, come here for VBS and many join us from this experience. Our Preschool is not a business that rents space from us. It is a ministry of our Church that is teaching both academically and about Jesus too. Plus, we are introducing new families to our church through this ministry. Every year, people join us from our Preschool.

If churches grow that impact the world, than our servant ministries are surely a reason for our growth. Hundreds of people every month are fed meals at shelters by our members. Forty children had an abundant Christmas because of our Giving Tree. In a year, literally a thousand people are clothed, and their households outfitted with plates, refrigerators and couches by our joint ministry with St. Pius, Parkview and others. All of these servant ministries are staffed by us, moved by Christ to serve.

I think there is one more reason, to consider. Messiah is growing not because you have a young, cool, hip pastor and an associate, not just because our building is clean, modern, and attractive and not solely because of our ministries. It is growing because of the people inside this church and inside our ministries. It’s our people.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to say our people are especially attractive. Just look at the men in worship today to blow that one out of the water. We aren’t especially wealthy either, even though somehow we managed to raise our giving by almost 100% since 2003. We even got peculiar people around here. Like Forest Gump said, we are a full box of chocolates at Messiah, some with nuts and all. Yet, I know it is our people that have made Messiah a church that people join, serve and worship at.

Why do people stay at Messiah? Because our people are passionate. We take seriously the light of Christ, a light that each of us has within us. We know that our light alone is small, but when we gather together as church we create a bonfire. At our best, we are brothers and sisters. Whom we worry about when they are sick, grieve when they pass away, celebrate with when they give birth, encourage in the midst of parenting, and dance at their weddings. We are a family bound together not by our blood, but by the blood of Christ that calls us to be church. This is who we have become. This is why people come to Messiah, to share their light with our own.

In moments, I want you to come forward with your commitment card for the year. On average our members commit $35 a week for operations and $10 a week towards our building. Many, many commit more than that because they are on a journey to share more and more of their life with God financially. They might be faithfully working towards a tithe or challenging themselves every year to give $5 or $10 more a Sunday. For some, this year the $35 average is not likely because of job losses, fixed incomes and rising costs, or family difficulties. We celebrate all good gifts.

Whatever you have decided to commit, do so joyfully, knowing that your brothers and sisters are committing today with you. Bring it forward with joy. With a smile, that acknowledges the blessings God has brought to Messiah and to your life. Bring it forward led by the light of Christ that shines within you, and joined with your brothers and sisters in Christ, shines brightly for all of Reynoldsburg, Blacklick, Pataskala, White Hall, Pickerington even Columbus to see. Why do people come to Messiah? It is not because of the athletic pastor and the associate, the beautiful building, the many ministries. It is because of the light within us.

I have a couple of thoughts.  First, I understand the spontaneous reaction of the conductor and the audience.  The musicians have worked hard in preparing and presenting this concert.  The audience has purchased expensive tickets to enjoy this hard work.  The ringing cell phone was ruining the concert for both. Plus, we have all been in meetings, movie theaters even churches where a ringing cell phone has ruined our concentration and distracted our appreciation.

However, I wonder what happened to empathy.  It turns out the man who had been a season ticket holder and philanthropist for the orchestra for years, had just received the new IPhone 4 that day. He had turned it off at the beginning of the concert.  He did not realize that the clerk who showed him how to use it had set an alarm as part of that demonstration. The alarm goes off even if the phone is turned off. He was at first unaware it was his phone because he had turned it off.  He was horrified when he realized it was his phone about the time the music had stopped and the conductor was standing over his seat.

Judging and condemning people is hard, which is why we should leave it up to God as often as we can. When we unpack stories, we find they are much grayer than they first appeared. The reaction of the audience and the conductor at this single incident is likely a reflection of past incidents they have encountered. Yet, this man in the front row was not the same man in the movie theater, the woman swerving while chatting on her phone on the highway, the teenager using profanities on his phone while in line at Krogers, the visitor to church last Sunday whose phone went off during the prayers. When we make examples of people, as this conductor decided to do, we force them to bear the weight of all the irresponsible and irritating cell phone users we have encountered in our life.

However, as people of faith we have another option, to simply forgive. We can ask ourselves would Jesus embarrass this man in front of thousands of people so we can make a point. From our own experience, of leaving our phones on when we should not have, we can understand the likely horror this man feels when he realizes his awful mistake. We can see this mistake or even intentional rudeness in the scope of our lives, and realize at the end of the day, it really is not that big of a deal. We can decide next time, we will make a public announcement at the beginning of the symphony to turn off your phones, then smile and say you don’t want to be the guy that ruins the concert for everyone else. My hope is that a person of faith in Christ will choose to with grace, forgiveness, humor and empathy.  Peace, Pastor Karl

But now today there is a feeling that the party is over. The poinsettias aren’t quite as lively as they were on Christmas Eve (we have hidden the ones that look more wilted). While some people will hold out for a little while longer, many people are starting to think about taking down their Christmas tree and putting away decorations for another year. Soon we will be heading back to school, work, or just the routine of life once again. There aren’t any more parties to prepare for in the near future (unless you have big plans for an Epiphany party).

This is true when we think about the Bible stories we have heard recently as well. We had all kinds of excitement within the stories with angels and stars and shepherds. We had the Angel Gabriel appearing to Mary telling her she was to carry the son of God, an angel appearing to Joseph telling him its ok to take Mary as his wife even though she is pregnant, a choir of angels appearing to Shepherds in the fields and told to go to Jerusalem to see what just happened. These angels appearing all over the place were preparing everyone for the celebration of Jesus birth. They were announcing to everyone, “This is a big deal!”

But now today, the party is over. Jesus has been born and Mary and Joseph are getting back into their everyday life. They have brought Jesus to the temple to be circumcised because that is what good Jews do. It is in the temple that we meet a guy named Simeon who sees this tiny baby and sees the salvation of the world. Simeon has been told that before he dies he will see the Messiah. He doesn’t need any angel poking him in the ribs saying, “Hey this is the son of God!” or see a choir of angels singing glory to God, or even a glowing baby Jesus. Simeon is not given any interruptions, intrusions or angels. He knows this little baby, this tiny newborn, is the Messiah so he simply says, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; 30for my eyes have seen your salvation, 31which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 32a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” After all the lights, angels, bells and whistles are done, Simeon saw that Jesus was God even without all the fanfare. Put simply Simeon had the faith to see God in this little baby after the party was over.

Now that the parties are over for us, we start thinking about how we can make this year better than the year we just experienced. So we start with resolutions about losing weight, eating better, quitting smoking, saving up for that trip we want to take, getting better organized, or anything else that will make 2012 better than 2011. I don’t know about you, but I get excited about the many possibilities with my resolutions. I am going to run that marathon this year. I am going to eat better and lose all the holiday weight from all those parties. I am going to read all those books I have been putting off. It is exciting thinking about all the great things I want to accomplish this year. And that seems to be true for many people. There is a certain hope for almost everyone that this year will be better than the last. A hope that we will be able to do in 2012 what we couldn’t do in 2011.

Then as time goes along during the year and life gets in the way, our motivation often starts to wane. I read a study that said more than a quarter of the people that make resolutions will give up on them after a week and more than half after 6 months. Many people are able to keep these resolutions for a while, but when the excitement of the new year wears off, when the parties end and life get going again, we give up on our resolutions.

A few years ago I ran a half marathon in Phoenix, Arizona. We got to the start line and it was beautiful. There were people all over the place stretching, jogging in place, and excitedly talking to one another. The starting line over looked the valley below and there were beautiful lights everywhere. The sun was starting to peak over the mountains in the east. When the start gun went off, there was excitement about the race ahead. It was palpable. There was a pack of people all around me and there were probably 20 people deep on each side cheering all of the runners on. There were all kinds of strangers giving me and other runners’ encouragement as the sun started to rise over the desert. It was exhilarating and breath taking. It stayed that way for the first few miles. But as the race went on that initial excitement faded away. There were only a few people lining the streets and instead of cheering me on as I ran by they seemed to be waiting for their loved one. By mile 10 there were only a few runners around me and by now I was exhausted and I was running in the desert. And there was no one on the side of the road at all. It was miserable; the excitement of the beginning was over. As we got to the last mile, I just wanted it to end. I am just trying to occupy my mind that is telling me, “Stop, stop, stop!” My faith that I could finish this race had completely faded. I felt like I had been running by myself for quite a while when over my shoulder I heard this guy encouraging a couple of runners around me. I heard him yell to anyone who would listen, “We only have a mile left, come on we are going to finish this race.” I was exhausted, but somehow I knew I was going to be able to finish this race. That stranger was God embodied encouraging me after the party and fanfare of the beginning of the race was long over. With a small gesture he gave me the faith that I could finish the race.

When the party is over, when all the excitement of the beginning has ended, we need someone to help us the rest of the way. We need someone to be there to call us every morning to make sure we ran, we need someone to keep us accountable to eat a little better, someone who can help us be the person God calls us to be. Someone who connects us to this community and helps us use the gifts God has given us.

In a moment you will have a chance to make your resolution. This year I want you to think not just about your resolutions, but how you are going to keep your resolutions. Who is going to keep you accountable? Who are you going to keep accountable? In the every day doldrums of life, when all the excitement and flash of Christmas and new years have faded away, how are you going to keep going? When the party is over who is going to be the face of God for you? In that last mile who is going to say “Come on, we can finish this race?”

May we have the faith that Simeon had, the faith to recognize God when the party and excitement of Christmas is over. That we may see God in our everyday lives and in other people who will help us be who God calls us to be in 2012. As you write your resolution on your index card, I want you to write down the name of someone who is going to keep you accountable for each resolution that you will make. Someone who cares about you, someone who wants to see you reach this goal, someone who you can see God in when the party is over. Amen.

Please write your name and address on the envelope. So that we can just put a stamp on it when we send it back to you in the middle of the year.

When my kids were little, they were always so proud of their art work.  Ben would get an Origami book and spend hours folding and creating what he saw on the pages.  Nathan would spread out with his Lego sets and go off the reservation, combining the different objects from the prescribed “recipe”.  Abbey would knead and push on blue, green and yellow Play-doh concentrating on making what she was envisioning in her mind.

Now, what should be heart felt memories actually made me anxious as a parent. The kids would call me into their room excited and proud to show me what they had done. I would look at the paper Ben had folded and all I could see was a paper airplane. Nathan’s Lego combinations always looked like some sort of monster. And I never said this aloud but Abbey’s Play-doh creations looked like something unspeakable from the neighbor’s dog. I was anxious because I so desperately wanted to see what they saw.

In an article I read this week by a pastor, Rosanne Swanson, she said in these moments as a parent she had to put on her mama’s glasses. They presented something extraordinary to me and without mama’s glasses all I could see was the ordinary. With mama’s glasses the ordinary colorful clay pushed together became a car, the carefully folded paper was obviously a dove and the Lego’s jammed together certainly a well-equipped soldier.  With mama’s glasses, I could see what they saw, the ordinary becomes the extraordinary.

Sometimes, I think the heart of faith is learning how to see out of mama’s glasses because mama’s glasses are really God’s eyes.  When we are able to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, then we are beginning to see the creation as God sees it. It is not easy to do, little about faith is easy, but Christmas Eve is a good time to try on mama’s glasses.

The story is really pretty ordinary and unfortunately as likely today as it would have been then. An occupying force arbitrarily makes a poor young couple move from one village to another at a time that is not just inconvenient but downright dangerous. Alone, no one had compassion for this teenager about to give birth.  No one would make room in their day or in their house for either her or husband. In an act of charity someone “graciously” allows them to use a stable as a nursery. Rome doesn’t care.  The residents of Bethlehem don’t care.  Even the one family that does have some compassion cares just enough to slightly inconvenience their goats and sheep.

The angels, though, sound exactly like a four year old showing us their art. “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” Their mama’s glasses are firmly in place. When those shepherd’s found Mary, Joseph and Jesus in that stable in Bethlehem, they had to have had a moment where they cocked their head, and thought to themselves, what exactly are we supposed to be looking at again, a savior?  Somehow, though, through mama’s glasses, God’s eyes, they could see the extraordinary in the very ordinary.

It is almost as if the church doesn’t trust people to pull out mama’s glasses any longer. We punch up this story to make it look as extraordinary as possible.  Mary glows in most paintings of this scene. I don’t mean glowing like the way we describe young mothers who are flushed with exhaustion. She glows like Homer Simpson after he swallows a hunk of uranium at the nuclear plant in Springfield. The animals in the stable are all kneeling and looking with awe at baby Jesus. Not one of them seems to be thinking, Hey, who put the baby in our feeding trough? What, are we supposed to eat around him?

Even I don’t trust you to see the extraordinary in the ordinary tonight. To make sure you get it, I have lined up choirs and trumpets, tons of flowers, candles and a grand procession.  We are throwing the kitchen sink at you and I still worry whether it is extraordinary enough. Maybe, we need red balloons this year to make it really special.

I worry, because I know at the end of the day Messiah is by most standards ordinary. We are a middle sized church in Reynoldsburg, Ohio, not St. Peter’s in Rome. By size, we aren’t even extraordinary on Waggoner Road. Here telephone repairmen become vocal soloists, Dispatch reporters play the trumpet, nurses, mechanics and physical therapists serve communion, accountants, secretaries, engineers and IT people put out the luminaries and a balding middle aged man preaches. On paper it all seems pretty ordinary. Maybe, so ordinary that you won’t get the extraordinary message, that God has come to us in Jesus to save us forever.

In my most anxious moments, just like when I was a parent of four year olds, I need to take a deep breath, put on mama’s glasses and see the world as God sees it. There is likely a reason this story of Mary, Joseph and Jesus is so ordinary. God is God. God could have come up with all sorts of crazy cool ways to beam down and be with us. I have read enough fantasy and science fiction books to throw out twenty mind blowing entrances right now for God. Yet, God chose this way, this place, these parents, that night, that village, those witnesses. God comes to us in the ordinary. God claims the ordinary as His because God sees the extraordinary underneath, above and within Mary and Joseph, you and me, all of creation. With eyes of faith, the love of God, mama’s glasses, whatever we want to call it, we can see the extraordinary, too.  All the extras of Christmas Eve are great, but all we really need to see the extraordinary in the ordinary is mama’s glasses.

A year ago, Glenn visited our church for the first time on Christmas Eve. Glenn came full of grief because his mother had just died on Thanksgiving. He hoped to experience something extraordinary that would begin to heal the pain he was feeling, answer the questions he was asking, and make sense of the senselessness around him.

Honestly, Glenn left a little disappointed. There was no epiphany, nothing that made sense of his loss, or eliminated his grief. Yet, Glenn came back. In the last year, he has become a presence in our worship on Sunday, attends our adult education classes, serves in our clothing ministry, and reads the scripture in our assembly. Somehow, like the shepherds that night, like mothers and fathers since time began, like God from the heavens, somehow in this very ordinary place, Glenn sees something extraordinary.

How? Mama’s glasses. He sees us as God sees us, who is always wearing mama’s glasses. What allows us to see the extraordinary in our kid’s art projects is the same thing that allows God to see the beauty in our selfish, shameful lives and is the same thing that allowed the shepherds to see the beauty in a crying, dirty baby lying in a filthy manger. It is love. Love is what makes this place extraordinary, because it is the very presence of God. Love is what causes members to tell me that was the best sermon ever, when I know it wasn’t even the best sermon preached that day on this street. Love is the presence of God with us, revealed when baby Jesus cried his first cry. Love is what draws us together as church that Glenn discovered. Love is what mama’s glasses are made of.

Faith is the ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. God comes to us every day, in multiple ways and to see it, we just need to wear mama’s glasses. Once we put them on, once we are filled with God’s love, nothing ever looks the same again; even piles of Play-doh can become works of art. Stop, close your eyes, breathe deeply, trust God’s presence in this very ordinary place, put on those glasses.  Now, open them and look, see God’s creation as God sees it. As ordinary as this place is, it is pretty extraordinary, and I didn’t even need red balloons. Amen

Every month, Thadd or I lead the preschool children in chapel. We sing, pray, and tell a bible story. In December, of course I told the nativity bible story.  I stumbled on the part of the story where they put Jesus in a manger. These kids, even though they are 3, 4 and 5 know about the manger. They have been singing Away in a Manger, since they could talk. Yet, they hadn’t quite got what a manger was. This is Reynoldsburg. None of them are farmers; they haven’t seen animals eat out of mangers, feeding troughs or anything else.

So, an idea came to me, who here has a dog?  Hands shoot up. They all want to tell me about their dog. After listening patiently, I move them on. Do your dogs eat at the kitchen table? They laugh, no, that’s silly.  They start shouting at me that their dog eats out of a dog food bowl on the floor. Smiling, I say, after Jesus is born they lay in him something like a dog food bowl, instead of a crib like what your parents had for you.

When Jesus was born they laid in him a dog food bowl.  It is honestly a pretty startling image. Of course, one of many surprising twists to the story in Luke. Where Luke starts the story you don’t really guess it is going to end at a manger in a stable. He begins at the greatest city known to humanity in his day, Rome. Luke’s story has emperors, priests, temples, prophets and wonderful, caring relatives. Everything is beautiful, what we would expect in a story about God coming to us. Stop there, and our guess would be that this baby born to the Virgin Mary is going to have a beautiful nursery, if not in a palace, at least in a warm home full of love.

Then, as Luther Seminary professor David Lose writes, it all lands with a thud in a manger.  Three times Luke tells us that they laid Jesus in a manger, a feeding trough, because no one in Bethlehem, no one in creation, no person would make room for Jesus in their home or lend Jesus’ parents that old crib lying unused in the corner.  The story that starts in Rome, surrounded by palaces, temples and beautiful people robed in silk ends in a stinky, dirty stable surrounded by stinky, dirty animals and stinky, dirty shepherds. Jesus’ nursery would not be featured in a People Magazine cover story on the rich and famous.  Instead, it would be a photo in an expose in the Dispatch on the painful reality of homelessness in Columbus.

Jesus was born then laid in a dog food bowl. Jesus was born on the fringe, to the poorest of poor. God chose to come to us not in the beautiful Manhattan nursery that overlooks Central Park that one of the Kardashians have ready for their expected child, but in a tent over by the railroad tracks near the river and Spring Street.  Call me crazy, but laying Jesus in a manger sounds like a significant part of the story.

I’ve got a couple of ideas what it could mean. First, this whole story is about God revealing God to us and this detail says quite a bit about who God is. God’s heart is with all of us, but this story tells me that God’s heart aches for the people on the fringe, refugees, the homeless, the poor, the gossiped about pregnant teens, people without the means or the power to make their life better. God loves all of the creation abundantly, but God seems to notice the back alleys, bridges, cars and empty fields where people in poverty find shelter. God loves all of us, but the God revealed in Jesus hopes that those who love God will notice these places, too.

God chose to come to us in poverty not in riches. For those of us, who have beautiful nurseries or at least cribs instead of dog food bowls to lay our babies, we should notice this.  Why?  Because God does. Our efforts as church should be to welcome the poor, feed the hungry, clothe the naked and comfort the crying children exposed to the dangers of the world at such a young, fragile and tender age. God chose us, God’s church, to love and help heal the broken, painful lives of those in our community that many do not notice at all. On a day of abundance, when many of our Living Rooms are full of toys and gifts, and our Kitchen cupboards and shelves are overflowing with food waiting to be prepared for a Christmas feast, let us remember those who like Jesus are born with so little.

Jesus was born and laid in a dog food bowl. The second thing I think this reveals is that maybe the animals hovering around that manger, sniffing and trying to figure out whether they were supposed to eat Jesus or eat around him had the right idea. In preparing for this sermon, I read about but did not get to see an icon of the nativity that pictured a donkey in that stable actually nibbling on the arm of Jesus.  On one level it makes sense.  That stupid donkey eats there every day. Whatever the farmer puts in that trough, he sticks his long nose in and starts chewing.

On an even greater level, that icon reveals a truth that we might miss in this very familiar story.  Jesus is meant to be eaten. Jesus is laid in a feeding trough, a dog food bowl, because Jesus is the water of life, the bread of salvation. Jesus is in that manger because all of us are called to gather around Jesus and eat and drink the very presence of God.  Like the dumb donkey, we are called to nibble on what the master has laid before us.

In our churches, we are also called to feast on Jesus.  To eat this bread of life, drink the blood that has been shed to save us.  Our master will fill us with himself, and all we need do is gather around the manger and share this meal.  That nibbling donkey was likely the first one to ever receive communion. The manger becomes the altar that offers up the lamb that was slain for all of us.

When Jesus was born he was laid in a dog food bowl.  The manger reveals God’s heart for the poor and eyes that see the poverty around us that we so expertly miss. Surely, God longs for the Church to have this same heart and these same eyes. The manger reveals God’s promise to feed all of us, those who are dumb as donkeys, rich as Roman rulers, poor as carpenters, scared as pregnant teenagers.  God will feed us with not just bread that nourishes our body, but food that brings us salvation, hope and rest eternal.  Amen

These roles were pretty rigid. I don’t ever remember my dad vacuuming, dusting, cooking or crying.  Ever.  I don’t ever remember my mom driving the car with my dad in it, mowing the lawn, swinging a hammer, or seriously spanking us. Ever. When people would bully me, my mom would hold me as I cried. My father would encourage me to stand up for myself as terrifying as that might be. I accepted without question that there were things moms did and dads did and that women did and men did.

Our house was a reflection of the culture around us. Most everyone held these stereotypes. Men went off to war to fight for what was right, and women stayed back and kept the home fires burning. Men played poker and drank beer and women played bridge and drank sherry. Women gave birth and men passed out cigars in the waiting room. Women asked for directions, men drove stubbornly until they happened to stumble on their destination. Women loved to go church and men were dragged against their will.  Men took pain like, well like a man, and women cried at the slightest sadness. Women listened, nurtured, and encouraged their children, men taught them right from wrong, responsibility and self-defense.

These stereotypes were not created by my parent’s generation. They were how people have understood the “differences” between men and women for thousands of years. This understanding informed how we imagined God, too.  Officially God has always been beyond gender. God is neither male nor female. Unofficially, most people when they close their eyes picture a God that looks like a man not a woman.

Just as the stereotypes I have mentioned are wrong, a vision of a male God is wrongheaded, too.  It limits our understanding of God.  When we picture God as a guy, God starts acting like a guy, and only a guy in our imagination.  I am not talking about mowing the lawn and driving the family car. We picture a male God as a fierce warrior for justice, never crying and the scary God we have to meet at the end of the day who will carry out dreaded discipline. These hyper masculine traits crowd out the other qualities of God that we stereotype as feminine: nurturing, loving, listening, encouraging, and caring.

Like children whose father is distant because it simply wasn’t his responsibility to care for his kids, God seemed distant to generations of Christians. I am betting this distance led Christians to honor Mary in a unique way.  In Mary, the Mother of God, as she was officially called, Christians saw someone who could calm down and talk to this angry testosterone filled deity. If God’s own mother couldn’t keep God from raging against a miserable world, who could?

Mary became a hero of the faith unlike Abraham, Moses, Elijah or David. God chose her to do something that none of those other men could do, give birth to Jesus.  And she said yes even though it could not only complicate her life but endanger it. Mary feels deeply and wrestles quietly with what she hears. She is the ultimate good mother. She worries about a precocious Jesus who wanders from her at twelve, follows him in his ministry to keep him safe and when necessary making him feel guilty that he isn’t helping out more at their friend’s wedding and finally weeps at the foot of his cross as he is executed before her eyes.

Mary’s gifts are noticeably absent in the manly God of many people’s imagination. The tough and demanding God pictured was to be feared not loved. The popularity of Mary among Christians might have something to do with this thin image of God.  It seems the church at one time almost needed Mary as a counterweight to the angry, judge they preached. Mary was a caring mother who would listen and plead their case before an impatient father.

Mary is a hero of faith. Her story is exceptional and she is worthy of our honor.  God chose her and she said yes and lived out that yes faithfully to the end. Yet, our honor of Mary gets off track when we imagine that God needs Mary’s feminine advice and counsel in the throne room of heaven. We are misunderstanding the witness of Mary when we imagine her qualities to be anything other than a revelation of God, God’s self.

Times have changed for the better in my estimation when it comes to these stereotypes. My parent’s generation encouraged this change. My parents caught in pretty rigid roles themselves, raised their kids to be less observant of them. My older sister mowed the lawn when she was old enough to push the thing. She was the most athletic one in our family and the only who can work on cars today. My brother and I were vacuuming and dusting the house pretty much after learning to walk. My mom taught only me how to cook because I was the only one interested. It was okay for any of my parent’s children to cry.

These arbitrary boundaries continue to fall in my generation. My kids can rarely remember me driving if Paige is in the car.  No one appreciates my driving.  Paige also did most of the disciplining in our house just because when she gets mad everyone needs to stay out of her way. We have more distance to travel in eliminating false stereotypes but we are moving in the right direction.

With these stereotypes falling, our male image of God needs to fall, too. God is neither male nor female, but the fullness of both. God is love and that love is revealed in power and might on behalf of the creation and in tender service and sacrifice for the lost and least. God is the good mother, who gives us birth, nurtures us at her breast, holds us when we cry, weeps at our pain and meets us wherever the road of life takes us. God is the good father, who holds us accountable for the pain we have caused, passionately thirsts for justice for all of the creation and provides everything his children need.  Just as we see all of these qualities of love in God, we can see all of these qualities of love in any individual made in the image of God, male or female.

We honor Mary not because she is a female hero of faith, but because she is a hero of faith that reveals the image of God within her.  Both men and women should aspire to be more like Mary, faithful to God’s call, contemplative of God’s demands, open to deeply loving God’s child. We don’t need Mary to calm down an angry, male God. We need Mary to show us by her faithfulness the great joy found loving fully the God of creation.  Amen

God, come back!

Smile your blessing smile:

That will be our salvation.

Have you ever prayed a prayer like that?  My niece Kirsten surely did last week.  She is a school teacher in Toledo raising her 8 year old daughter.  She lives in a house my sister, her mom owns in an older neighborhood in Toledo.  My sister was just saying at Thanksgiving that she would like to get rid of the house before she retires.  She isn’t charging her daughter enough to make it worthwhile as a rental and for obvious reasons she doesn’t want to kick her out to make it a more profitable asset.  Kirsten doesn’t want to buy it, which kind of irritates my sister and there was an awkward silence when the subject got broached on Thanksgiving. 

Sunday morning this week, Kirsten comes home from church and is knocked down by…well a smell like poo. My niece is not the best housekeeper but she knew this was not moldy cheese in the refrigerator she smelled.  She ran down into the basement and on her floor was an inch and a half of raw sewage.  The Noah’s Ark like rain that Toledo received last week had somehow backed up her block’s sewers into her basement.  The drain in her floor was just bubbling forth with this gift like the Texas Crude that Jed Clambett found on his land in the Beverly Hillbillies.

It took an entire day with the help of my sister and her husband to clean up the mess. Even with gallons of bleach, the smell lingers. My sister was cross because she had wanted to sell this place anyway.  She told her daughter to start making plans because it was going up for sale.  My niece was upset because her house is unlivable, her mom is mad, everyone is cranky and tired after a day of cleaning up other people’s waste, and she doesn’t know where she is going to live next. It was one of those days when we are just overwhelmed and the answers to our problems can’t easily be found. Her post on Facebook that night was simple. God, if you are out there, remember me.

God, come back!

Smile your blessing smile:

That will be our salvation.

Wendy came with her young daughter to our church for the first time on Girl Scout Sunday last March during Lent.  She had never been one to go to church but something just clicked for her here at Messiah.  She enjoyed the service so much that she came with her older adult daughter to the new member classes that just happened to be starting up shortly after Girl Scout Sunday.  When I explained to the class that to join the church you had to be baptized, she approached me shyly afterward to explain that she had never been baptized.  She apologized for this as if we would be terribly disappointed with this news.

Of course, quite the opposite, for Lutherans there is few things more visually powerful than to see an adult at the baptismal font that we normally only babies and children gather around.  Wendy was baptized at our evening Saturday Vigil service.  It was so special.  A couple of weeks later we celebrated with her as she joined our church, the first church she had ever become a part. Two weeks after that I greeted her in her pew before the service began and heard the news.  She had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.  Things did not look good.

She attended faithfully for about another month, but one Sunday she asked if it were okay to simply drop off her daughter for Sunday School.  With the Chemo, she just couldn’t sit in the pew on Sunday morning, but her daughter didn’t want to miss. This would be the last time I saw her.  Last week, we received word from her husband that she had died.  Pastor Thadd led the memorial service for her family on Wednesday.  Wendy was 44 years old.

Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful that she wandered into Messiah before she died.  Baptism changes our relationship with God and I am glad the pure white baptismal dress is what she has put on to see God.  On the other hand, I wish with all my heart she were still here, to raise her young daughter with us, grow with us in faith at Messiah, serve alongside of us and to have her voice become a familiar one in our pews on Sunday morning.  God, why?  44.  Wow. Where are you God in the midst of all this pain?

God, come back!

Smile your blessing smile:

That will be our salvation.

I don’t lack for stories about God seeming silent.  Bob and Gretchen Rice’s 50 year old daughter died last week after enjoying a Sunday meal with her parents.  Mac and Cheryl’s five year old grandchild got so sick so suddenly last week and she is still not out of the woods. Many in this place that have held good and valuable jobs that provided well for their family are getting discouraged as this recession drags on and no one wants to make use of their talents.  Young people who would make wonderful parents are not given the special gift of life, though they have tried so hard and seen so many doctors. Other young people are scared and worried because they have found themselves gifted unexpectedly with new life.

God where are you?  Why are you silent?  Will you hear me? Us? Your people?  Advent is the season when we take our worries, our darkness, our burdens even our doubts and anger, and we lay them before God. Advent is a season of night, inky black, with the first colors of morning starting to play on the horizon.  Advent is about hope.  Hope that God is not asleep though he seems absent. Hope that God hears our pain though the silence is deafening.  Hope that God has not and will not abandon us though the evidence seems to say otherwise.  Advent is about waiting for God to come, in the midst of our troubles and grief. And none of us like to wait. While we wait, we prepare for God with us. There is so much I can’t make sense of, but at the end of the day, the hope of God’s promise is what keeps me moving.

God, come back!

Smile your blessing smile:

That will be our salvation.

I get the tragedy of our brokenness that causes something like this to happen.  The assistant coach, if the charges are true, is a disturbed man. His cravings and addictions have forever injured lives in ways that many unfortunately are all too familiar.  People can overcome being sexually abused, but it is a difficult and long road.  Further, if the charges are true, he has forever tarnished somehow the good he has done in his profession and his charity by his inability or unwillingness to stop. I have seen our members destroy their lives in similar ways by their own sinfulness.  The pain, brokenness and destruction are all too familiar.

What has got me thinking, are the actions of the university leaders (Athletic Director, Board and President), Coach Paterno and a certain assistant who witnessed a crime happening in 2002. We still do not know exactly what happened or exactly the response of these people in power.  Yet, we do know this much. None of them took definitive action to make sure these crimes would stop and all of them were in a position to do so.  Why?

The why is what has me thinking. I think a cover up to save the university embarrassment is too easy of an answer and doesn’t get at the root of our humanity. It may have been in the mix, but likely only one ingredient. These are people who have acted responsibly before, made tough decisions before, why not now? Surely, they were as horrified as anyone else at the allegations and took them seriously. All of them seem to be “good” people, whatever that may mean.  Why did good people stay silent?  And how does their silence reflect on our larger human condition?  To understand how they justified their actions to themselves, will reveal to all of us about the power of sin in this world.

Several years ago, I had a friend who severely violated his call as pastor.  He did not break a law that needed to be reported to the authorities, but he did break a trust that needed to be reported to his bishop.  I did not do this.  Why?  I was going to give him time “to do the right thing” himself.  Soon after I found out about it, someone had reported it to the bishop and I was off the hook.  However, if he had simply stopped, promised never to do it again would I have said okay and still not have reported it?  Probably, I am ashamed to say.  Ashamed, because even if the action was a onetime thing, people needed to investigate what happened to know for sure, he violated his trust with that congregation and he needed to leave, the whispers in the pews of what happened needed to become transparent admissions so healing could start.

None of this happens if nothing is ever reported. Healing never begins and more people are injured. I know this to be true because I can name five congregations where a pastor has done similar things and this has been the result. I bear responsibility for the continued and multiplying results of Sin by my silence. I was in a position to something and I did not.

Why did I keep silent? Not calling the bishop was easy to justify to myself.  I had been told in confidence by a third party who was not told by my friend but by someone involved. Maybe, it was all a lie. I didn’t see anything. No one made any admission to me nor had my friend made an admission to anyone that had spoken to me. What evidence would I give to the bishop? Could I at the least tarnish my friend’s reputation with the bishop and probably destroy his career by this hearsay?  If tough choices were easy, they would not be called touch choices.

Like Coach Paterno and the others, I stayed silent. I can tell myself that my friend’s sins were no way near as heinous or even illegal as the Penn State case. If that had happened, I would have surely done the right thing. I hope this is true, but I can’t be sure. I only know for sure what I did. I failed to do the right thing when I had the opportunity.

It is easy for all of us to be critical of those who did not do enough to stop these crimes from continuing. We should grieve all the lives that would not have been harmed had something more definitive been done in 1998 when people with the power to make a difference first heard of these reports. It is easy for us to judge but would that help heal what sin has worked to destroy?

Instead, we could all be convicted by this story, convicted of both the power of sin, and our participation in sin’s continuing destruction. A sign of Christian maturity is not necessarily becoming less sinful, but rather respecting the power of sin in our own life.  How does the confession we share in church go?  If we fail to see ourselves in the sins of Coach Paterno, we fool ourselves and the truth is not in us.  But if we confess…

Sin’s grip on me would seem to be overwhelming, but by the stronger grip of grace I know it is not. At the end of the day, forgiveness is the only thing that can heal and bring reconciliation to the destruction of sin. Forgiveness begins with confession, but maybe we all have something to confess, today. It is in moments like these scandals where I am not only saddened by the pain that we cause each other, but I am reminded of my contribution to the pain of our world.

May all of us, trusting the promise of grace shared in Jesus, share confessions, hear confessions and forgive. If we cannot see ourselves in the brokenness of others, we fail to see Christ before us. When we stop seeing Christ, we stop trusting his grace.  Healing begins only when forgiveness is offered and grace is known. I think we need to concentrate on healing now.

What keeps us from taking risks? Maybe we should start with a different question, what makes most young people so risky?  My oldest son when he was in college took a photography class. He came home from Christmas with really cool pictures of an old railroad trestle in the mountains around Pittsburgh. Fall colors, sun setting, great shadows captured with white steel beams against a blue sky made for some really interesting photographs. As Paige and I admired them it started to occur to us, how did he get this picture underneath the bridge looking up into the sky, or this one on the middle of the bridge looking to the other valley, or this one seeming to look down past the iron framework to the tiny river hundreds of feet below? Like any good parent, we went from complimenting his skill to yelling at him about the obvious risks he took to get them.   What if a train had come across, what if you had slipped, what if…

What keeps us from taking risks? Risks are…risky.  The photographs were great, but they weren’t worth that risk.  Fear of what could happen, often well grounded fear as in this case, keep us from taking risks. Even fear of making the wrong choice keeps us from taking risks.  Every door we open when we try something new, potentially closes another door.

When I was the age of my son when he was hanging off of Railroad Bridges, I had been dating Paige already for four years.  We were kind of on a break when we were 20 and Janet, a Pi Phi, had her eye on me.  I was a hot commodity, and women knew I wouldn’t be on the market for long.  At some point, I had to make a choice whether I wanted to go out with Janet or Paige. And once I made that choice, I wasn’t likely to be able to call a do over and reverse my decision.  Women and life don’t work like that. Thankfully, I made the right choice 27 years ago as I am reminded at home often.

What keeps us from taking risks?  Fear. Some fear is good and prudent and evidence of maturity and experience. Nathan’s pictures were great, but they were not worth risking his life to get.  Sometimes, our fear causes us to stay with what we know and that turns out to be a wonderful thing. My marriage speaks to this truth. Sometimes, though, our fear paralyzes us, causing us to do stupid things like burying our talents and gifts in the sand.

A rich guy is going to be away for a long time and before he leaves, he gave all of his property to three of his slaves.   Let’s call them Larry, Curly and Moe. The two smarter ones, Larry and Curly took great risks with this money, investing it in penny stocks and Florida swamp land. If they had failed, it would have looked like the dumbest, most reckless thing to do.  But surprise! They made all the right moves and ended up doubling what the master had given them. The master thought Larry and Curly were geniuses and hugged the stuffing out of them.

Now, Moe, Moe was another story. His plan of action was to bury the money, so that when the boss came back it would be safe and sound. Poor Moe, you have to feel sorry for the guy. Just the fact the he is identified right from the beginning as the least talented of the three should bring him some sympathy. If Moe were here, I am sure he would make the case that the master didn’t tell him to go and risk all of the money. If he had just told him to take a risk he would have. But without permission, what if he had bet on pig futures, watched them slide and then lost it all?  Then what?  There surely wouldn’t be any group hug at that point.  Moe knows the master.  He can be a pretty mean guy when money is concerned. Moe was convinced he was waiting to say gotcha and punish him for taking a risk. It made perfect sense to bury it. And of course that was completely the wrong thing to do.

Moe’s fear was misinformed. His master was one who would delight in the risk, celebrate a victory and be forgiving of failure.  Larry and Curly knew the master and entered into the risk. The master wanted his fortune to grow, not lie stagnant unused in the ground.

In Jesus’ parable, the rich guy is gone a long time.  In our life of faith, we are living in this long time now. Jesus has risen and we wait now for Jesus to come again.  And while we wait, there is some expectation of what we do with the time we are given. All of us are given a small fortune of talent to do something with in the long time before Jesus returns. God who opens that fortune grows and it never will without us first taking a risk.  Who are going to be Larry, Curly or Moe? Is fear going to define us or joyful expectation of our future that is already decided in Christ?

In the resurrection, we have seen the ending of our world, our ending, and it is a happy one people.  The practical effect of this belief is to charge each moment of the present with hope. For if the future is dominated by the coming again of Jesus, there is little room left on the screen for projecting our anxieties. Trust this future with joyful expectancy for what God will do next in Jesus. Take risks.  Dream big.  What is the worst thing that can happen?  If we know the ending, what are we afraid of today?

Because a Christian has no fear of the future, they can afford to take risks with their present.  This is true of a community, house of faith, a church.  Where would Messiah be if they had not taken a risk in 1956 and started a new church in Reynoldsburg?  In 1968 and built this new sanctuary that was way too big for their congregation in that year, but now we can’t seat everyone in here on special festival days or if we try to have one service? In 1998, when we started a ministry that would eventually become Joseph’s Coat?  In 2009, when we called an Associate Pastor for the first time in nearly three decades?  All of those choices could have blown up horribly in our face. All of them could have been hard to defend if they failed.  All of them were risks that ended up doubling our talents as a community. And just as I made this list of successes, I could make another equal list of new efforts that didn’t work, a Jazz Worship service in the 90’s, a Youth Christian Woodstock just a few years ago, a troubled Associate and Senior relationship in the 70’s.  God forgave these failed efforts with as much as love God celebrated the successes.   Because a Christian has no fear of the future, they can afford to take risks with their present.  This is true of our personal lives, too.  Why not go back to school and pursue that vocation you have always wanted?  Who says you are too old?  Why not ask that coworker you have known for years out for a date?  Who says office relationships never work?  Why not give generously to a cause that moves your heart and does good work? What is a better purpose of money than to ease the burden of the lost or the least? Who do we want to be Larry, Curly or Moe?

If we believe that God is anxious to celebrate our victories and forgiving of our defeats, we will live life taking risks with the abundant gifts God has given us, as a church or as individuals. I hope each of our new members received today and the old ones who have been around this place for years take this too heart.  If we believe that God is just waiting to yell gotcha and punish us for our miscalculations, than we will live forever like Moe, burying our best gifts in the sand. Sure some fear is prudent, but too often our fears are just holding us back.  Who do we want to be?  Better yet, who is God longing for us to become?  Amen

While this congregation and the families who came to worship today still grieve the passing of these eight, today is about more than sadness.  As the church, we declare these eight were not just fellow travelers with us in faith. They are saints.  Saints that have joined the hosts of saints in heaven, and now they encourage us, even eat with us at the holy meal, on our continued walk of faith.

Admittedly, they are not saints in the Mother Theresa sense.  Although sometimes in my funeral sermons I can get a little carried away when describing the lives of the people we come to celebrate. Once, I had a man tell me at the luncheon that followed, that when he died he wanted a funeral sermon like that one, although don’t start working on it anytime soon.  More than once, I have heard with a snicker from a relative, “Cousin George never sounded so good.”

Honestly, funeral sermons for church members are easy to write because the love of Christ is so powerful and abundant in our lives, I rarely lack for examples of goodness to lift up. I may not balance my descriptions with negatives that were surely present, but honestly do you want me talking about your irritable bowel syndrome and how it could clear a room in your funeral sermon?  No church members here are saints like Mother Theresa, but when you get right down to it, Mother Theresa wasn’t a saint like Mother Theresa either.  Martin Luther chose to make his break with the church symbolically on the day before All Saints Day.  He wanted to reclaim the title of saint from being a hall of fame Christian to being someone that looks like most of us.

Paul didn’t have hall of fame Christians in mind when he called all of the Corinthians saints at the beginning of his letter to them, because he followed that title with 16 chapters of complaints about all the things he thought the saints were doing wrong. Jesus didn’t expect us to be Mother Theresa saints, either. Really, he kind of redefined what it meant to be a saint, a blessed one of God.  In his day, and frankly in our day, too, those who were blessed, sanctified, a saint, were obvious to pick out.  They were the ones who lives looked perfect, either with lots of money and power or a great Godly wisdom with a big following of disciples to prove it.  It makes sense, right, what else could it mean to be blessed? Jesus didn’t have the rich and powerful or the incredibly Godly in mind when he taught that the blessed, the sanctified, the saints are the meek, the poor, the abused, the motley crew that looks most often like us.

So, in funerals, I lift up the lives of saints.  On All Saints Day, we celebrate their blessed life with us, a blessed life that continues with all the saints in heaven.  But, every Sunday we gather as our creeds tell us as the communion of saints.  This means we qualify as saint, too.  You and I, not by what we have done or because we have passed from this world, but by what God has done to us in these waters.  Being a saint is to live a sanctified life, a blessed life and what could be more blessed than being renamed child of God when we are baptized?

God has called us by name, chosen us before the founding of the world, and promised to do great things through us for the sake of all the other saints. I can say it even simpler than this.  Saints are those people that we can identify most clearly as looking like Jesus in our life. The writer in I John this morning is clear from the day we were baptized we have been reformed into Christ’s body. We are Christ already, little Christs Luther said, we only need to trust the power of this.  Who would dare not call us saints?

Of course, eventually there will be no quibbling about it.  In the end, all of us will have the reflection of Christ unveiled fully.  Here though on earth, our true identity often remains hidden.  Sometimes it is our fear, sometimes our selfishness, sometimes injustice or poverty, sometimes great wealth and power, but daily something cloaks the body of Christ we have been formed into in these waters.  Maybe a good preacher can sketch a picture of the saint within you in a twelve minute homily, but can your wife that saint within you today?  Your children?  Your parents?  Your coworkers?  Your neighbors?

God can and God knows our brokenness.  God knows the struggles, pain and grief of this world.  God knows that even Mother Theresa had bad saint days.  Yet, let’s not let our true selves be submerged, coming to the surface only briefly when we act Christ like, full of love, compassion and forgiveness, then submerging again and remaining hidden. Our very presence in this world is a part of God’s plan to sanctify the world, bless it with love. God loves us. God blesses us, so that we may love others, so that we may bless others.  God has made us saints so that we may join in the plan of redemption for all creation.

The flames of the candles lit today are a symbol of the Holy Spirit that called these eight saints to life.  The flames of the candles we light when we come forward are a symbol of the Holy Spirit that lived in others, too.  Those saints that before they left this world revealed Jesus to us, touched our lives, led us to church, shared with us God’s grace, fed us, clothed us, held us. They are saints, too, not Mother Theresa type of saint probably, there was that unfortunate joke they told at Christmas that nearly gave Grandma a heart attack, but saints none the less. Remember them today and ask that they continue to bless you from heaven.

After you eat the meal, the bread of heaven that all the saints in every time and place eat with us, sit and reflect on all this light. Be enveloped by God’s presence, God’s Spirit made alive in our baptism.  Trust the blessing within you, the saint that you have become.  Vow today again, to reveal Jesus to another just as that person you lit the candle for once revealed Jesus to you.  Amen

There are all kinds of laws in the Old Testament and New Testament, but they all boil down to one word….Love.  Love God and Love your Neighbor.  Those are pretty simple command on the surface. Love is a word that we throw around on a whim a lot.  We are quick to say we love all kinds of different things.  For example, I love Cane’s chicken.  I love the Green Bay Packers.  I love gummy candy.  The love of all those things is passive; these things are not able to return my love for them.  All they can do is taste really good (in the case of the candy or chicken) or win a lot of games (in the case of the Green Bay Packers).  This is not the love that Jesus is talking about in our text.  The love described in this text is active; it requires action. Love isn’t an interior emotion, affection, or attraction in the Bible. It’s an action, a behavior, a commitment to seek the good of another no matter what. To love God then is to love God’s children and seek the best for them.

It is the active response of the faithful person to the love of God because God’s love is also active.  In the Old Testament, God chooses to love Israel above all nations and to bring his love through this chosen people. To love God with all one’s heart, and soul, and mind, is to choose to respond to God even as God chooses to love us. Feelings and emotions do not enter into the equation.  There is no cupid involved in this kind of love.

In fact, nearly every choice we make — what we wear, what we eat, what we drive, what we give, what we share, how we spend our time — reflects an opportunity to love God by loving neighbor…or not.  There are days where it would be way easier to stay in bed than come to worship.  The sheets are too comfortable, or I want to beat the lunch rush, or it just takes too long to get little Jimmy or Suzy ready in the morning.  There are all kinds of excuses we can make to stay at home on Sunday mornings.  But just by being here this morning you have decided that worship was important to you.  This is another opportunity to love God and love our neighbors.  This is our call.  We are committed to love our neighbors because God first loved us.

A couple of years ago, Laura and I went on vacation to England.  One night we met up with Laura’s sister who was visiting friends in London.  All of us went out to eat on thanksgiving night.  When the night was over, all of us went our separate ways.  Laura and I got on the subway and headed back to the youth hostel where we were staying.  When we were about half way to our hostel, Laura realized that she had forgotten her purse.  After I gave her an exasperated look, we get off the Subway at the next stop and got on a train heading back towards the restaurant.  We got to the restaurant where someone had thankfully turned in her purse, although all the money she had in it was missing.  So we get back on the train to get back to our hostel only to find out that the subway stops at midnight, so the train will stop quite a while before it gets to our stop.  At this point in the night, I am tired and crabby and panicking at the thought of trying to find our hostel from a completely different stop in a huge city that I don’t know at all.  So I am sulking, as we get off the train disappointed at the turn of events.  As I am trying to figure out where in world we are, I hear five 20 something boisterous Spanish guys.  They seemed to be enjoying themselves, but like us they seem to have no idea how to get where they wanted to go.  They didn’t speak very good English, but we were able to find out they were staying at the same youth hostel that we were. So we figured we could either get completely lost in London or find this place together.  Very quickly our night went from disappointing to entertaining and energetic.  I didn’t tell any of these five Spanish gentlemen anything about our predicament with Laura’s purse, but they were quick to show kindness.  Even with the language barrier they were quick to strike up a conversation.  They have never been the America, but they wanted to share why they loved the U.S.  It basically boiled down to three things in their mind: beautiful women, Chuck Norris, and something about the amazing infomercials.  Then, being nice Spanish gentlemen, they helped me serenade Laura with Spanish love songs.  They did most, if not all, of the singing and even picked a flower that I supposed to place in my mouth to give to Laura.  (I think they might have got the flower from someone’s front yard, but let’s not get picky). We eventually made our way to the hostel, but I still think about those guys even though we only knew them for about an hour of my life.  These five Spanish guys didn’t have to show any kind of kindness towards Laura and I.  They had just met us.  We were complete strangers, we could barely understand one another.  But these five strangers went out of their way to show the kind of Love that Jesus is talking about in this text.  It is a love that overcomes all kinds of barriers.

It is a love that was first given to us only a few chapters later than the Gospel text we read this morning.  When Jesus gathered with his disciples in a room and shared a meal with each of them.  It is a meal that we will participate in today.  A meal that fills us up when we come in tired, broken, and worn out from the week that was.  A meal that renews us and fills us up for the week ahead, so that we can make it to another Sunday morning to be filled up again.  This is how much God loves us — enough to demand that we care for one another; enough to forgive and renew us each time we fail; enough to give us back to each other to try once, again, to live the law of love; and enough to give us the body, blood, and resurrected life, of our Lord Jesus … all in the name of love.  This is why empower is one of our values.  We are empowered through this worship service, through gathering together with one another, through hearing the world, through taking his body and blood.

At Messiah we have made this love the foundation of who we are and what we are about.  Our mission statement is “loving God, love each other.”  God’s gift of love, through the sending of God’s son–Jesus, empowers us to share God’s love in active ways with our neighbors-those we haven’t met yet, those who are strangers, and maybe even those that doesn’t speak the same language as us.

This love will look differently to all of us.  For some it might mean committing to come regularly to worship to experience God’s love so that we can share it with others, for others it might mean being involved in our outreach ministries to share God’s love through serving, for others it might mean getting to know people in this community better by joining in on Wednesday night Messiah night meals, and for others it might be being committed to loving a family member who is difficult enough to like let alone love.  No matter what this love looks like I pray that this worship experience fill us up so that we can be empowered to share God’s love with the world.  Amen.

I want to look at the last verse of our Old Testament text this morning, Isaiah 45:7. This is God speaking through the prophet, I form light and create darkness, I will make weal and create woe. I the Lord do all these things.  I will make weal and create woe.  Weal is an Old English word that is related to our present day words well and wealth.  It is a noun that describes a content or prosperous state of being.  So weal is a good thing.  Through the prophet God is saying that I am the same God behind lives that are content and prosperous and lives that are full of woe, despair, chaos and difficulties.

I don’t know if I like that.  If I were writing the bible, my God wouldn’t say something like this.  Yet, here it is.  Now, I am not beyond shrugging my shoulders and dismissing such lines as crazy, Old Testament sort of language.  The Old Testament is the same place that brought us the disturbing story in the book of Judges about a heroic woman nailing a spike in the forehead of a sleeping general. Even in the first chapters of Isaiah, God is described as using the really bad country of Assyria, think Nazi Germany, to punish Israel like a hammer.  So, sometimes I read the Old Testament and honestly don’t know what to make of it. I can’t find Christ, so I shrug my shoulders and move on.

For reasons I grew to regret as I wrestled with this text all weekend, I decided not to shrug this line away.  This part of Isaiah is a prophecy telling Israel that God will use the Persian King Cyrus to conquer Babylon.  At this point in the 6^th century BCE, Israel was enslaved by Babylon and Jerusalem was in ruins.  A victory for Cyrus in Babylon will mean freedom for God’s people and a return to Jerusalem.  The crazy thing is that this Persian King does not know he is called by God to do this and God has no intention of revealing this to him.

Cyrus had his own gods who he believed in. His religion was dualistic. The world was a battleground with gods of good and evil duking it out. Evil gods caused evil things to happen and good gods caused good things to happen.  Not only did Cyrus not know this God of Israel the prophet said was anointing and leading him, he did not believe in a god that caused both good things and bad things to happen.

Maybe more importantly, neither did most Jewish people hearing the prophet’s words for the first time. In the Old Testament, it was understood that God caused problems for people who misbehaved. Remember the general who literally woke up with a splitting headache. He wasn’t a savory character.  God brought woe to bad guys, but God brought weal to good guys.

In the Genesis creation stories God clearly creates everything, but there seems a tiny asterisk in the text.  In chapter one, God creates the world out of the chaos that was already there.  There is no mention where that chaos came from. In Genesis three, God’s perfect creation is corrupted by evil that attacks within the garden in a created creature, a snake that seems to be an interloper, an uninvited guest to the garden.  Not mentioned is where or why that snake was slithering in that beautiful garden.

So how did the prophet get to this radical statement that not only challenged Persia and most other pagan religions of his time, but also tweaked the nose of his own Jewish faith and honestly, makes all of us 21^st century Lutherans a little uncomfortable, too?  I believe it starts with the crazy idea that God would use a foreigner for good. Not just use Cyrus, but use him without even letting him know that he had been part of God’s greater plan for good.  Not just use Cyrus, but call him anointed and shepherd in the text; titles in the Old Testament that are only used for kings;  titles that are later given to the King of Kings, Jesus.

If God uses Cyrus in this way, this means that God is not just the God of Israel, but the God of everything and everyone, the only God in town.  This means that not only good Jewish people are made in God’s image, but even bad Persian, Babylonian or Assyrian people are made in God’s image, too.  Israel knew this already of course, up here in their head.  Yet, they really never had to confront what it meant, down here, in the world. God isn’t simply their God.  God is the God.

If God is the God of everyone, and not just a God tied to the state of Israel, this means God is truly the creator of everything, even that chaos that just showed up on day one of the universe or that snake that just slithered in to that beautiful garden. It also means that God’s purpose in creation is not to protect the state of Israel.  It is to finish the work of creation, replacing chaos with order, freeing his greatest creation of all, us, from that slithering snake.

God doesn’t use Cyrus so Israel could return to the glory days of nationhood under David.  God uses Cyrus so that Jerusalem and the temple could be rebuilt and the entire world, even Cyrus, will be drawn to this light shining on the hill.  Cyrus wins and the temple is rebuilt, but the light doesn’t shine bright enough.  The state of Israel is bullied by great powers like Rome. The temple priests are corrupted.

God continues the pursuit of ridding the world of evil and does something really radical.  God doesn’t anoint another pagan ruler.  The Father anoints the Son to come, tear down the temple and create a new light to draw all nations.  God replaces that temple with Jesus.  Jesus said, “I will tear down this temple and in three days, build it back up.”  From Cyrus to Jesus is all part of the same plan, to reveal God to us, to fix creation, to kill the slithering snake that has taken a bite out of each of us.

The prophet reveals though the theological conundrum all people of faith face at one time or another.  If God is not bigger than evil than how can we trust God to conquer it; but if God is bigger than the evil, than God must be responsible for it, too, the God of light and darkness, the God of weal and woe? The prophet can’t answer this and neither can I.  We can both declare confidently that whatever the reason evil is here, it seems clear that God is out to get rid of it.  God is willing to do crazy things like anoint an outsider and make him an insider, or even come to earth in Jesus to be rid of it for good. Getting to God’s goal of a world without evil will ironically require darkness and woe, think Good Friday, but that day was followed by Easter.  Even our darkest days of woe carry the hope of weal to come.

There is only one God and that God works through the forces of creation and the human gifts of all people, even outsiders like Cyrus.  Finally, this is why Respect is one of our most cherished values here at Messiah.  Like Israel in the 6^th Century BCE, we need to be reminded that all of humanity contains God’s image.  Israel never thought a Gentile like Cyrus could be the hero, the anointed shepherd they were waiting for.  Rome never thought their savior would be a Jewish rabbi from a colony in the boondocks.  We never know what special and gifted way God is using the people we met.  Each of us, everyone, carries the spark of God and thus should be respected as if it were God, God’s self, standing before us.

And when I say everyone, I mean everyone.  All people, men, women and children, smart and the cognitively challenged, wonderfully charming and horribly obnoxious, grumpy curmudgeons and perky Pollys, saints and sinners, divorced, widowed, pitiful philanderers, happily married and blessed singles, drunkards and tea totalers, introverts and extroverts, straight and gay, thieves and police officers, Mao Tse Tung and Mother Theresa, all people are equally loved, uniquely gifted, bearers of God’s image in our world. There are no Persians and Israelites, Greek nor Jew, neither male nor female, slave nor free. Protestant nor Catholic nor Buddhist, Moslem or Hindu either in the creation God is working towards in Jesus.  In Christ there are no insiders and outsiders, only outsiders that don’t know yet they have been made insiders.

Why woe exists in our life, I do not know.  I do know God is working to be rid of it for all of us and using us to carry out this plan.  If God can do great things with a rough and tumble pagan like Cyrus who didn’t even know such a God existed, just think what God could do with people like us.  God is so bent on reconciling all of creation, chasing that snake out of our lives, that this God of darkness and light, weal and woe is willing to use any and all tools to do it, even a tool like me.  Amen

This question recently came up at a gathering of Republican political candidates at the Values Voters Summit.  Pastor Robert Jeffress of First Baptist Church in Dallas was called to introduce Governor Perry of Texas. In that introduction he indicated that candidate Mitt Romney was not a Christian because he was a Mormon. All traditional Christian denominations recognize that Mormonism is a cult, Pastor Jeffress later said in an interview.  Romney was a moral man the pastor said, but he would only vote for someone who had given their life to Jesus.  Governor Perry later said he did not agree that Mormonism is a cult.

I had a couple of thoughts about this.  First, I think the Texas pastor is unnecessarily using pejorative language in calling Mormonism a cult.  Most of us when we think of cults think of crazy people that live on a commune somewhere under the spell of a charismatic leader that is taking advantage of them in every conceivable way. I don’t think Pastor Jeffress imagines that this describes Mormonism accurately in any way.

Second, he is correct that most traditional Christian denominations do not regard Mormonism as a Christian expression. Some denominations have a pretty small tent when it comes to who is “really” Christian. (What is the old joke?  St. Peter was taking a group of insert your open minded denomination here through heaven.  When he passed one room he told them to be quiet, because everyone in there was insert the denomination that you think is pretty narrow minded here and they are convinced they are the only ones who made it to heaven.) The ELCA has generally a more gracious appraisal of our brothers and sisters in Christ but would agree that Mormons don’t fit under even this big tent.

For the ELCA, there are at least two concerns.  First, Mormons hold more than just the Bible as sacred and inspired scripture.  Every denomination holds some separate writings as especially useful.  For the ELCA the Smalcald Articles, Book of Concord, Small and Large Catechisms and Augsburg Confessions all are writings by our 16^th century founders and that we still hold as important and relevant. Yet, we do not understand them as scripture. Mormons believe New Yorker Joseph Smith in the 19^th century discovered gold tablets that when translated with the help of an angel contained the Book of Mormon and other writings. This they believe is a lost piece of scripture that God meant for the Christian church to have. Mormons use our Old and New Testaments but they concentrate on these discovered texts. Their insistence that these books are on the level of scripture puts them outside of orthodox Christianity in the ELCA.

The second concern is that their understanding of Jesus does not fit into the accepted idea of the Trinity.  While they believe that Jesus is God’s Son, they mean this in a more literal way than traditional Christians accept.  They believe Jesus is the offspring of the Father and thus lesser than the Father in a significant way.  Our understanding of a Triune God of three separate but equal parts but unified as God puts us in conflict with this belief.

Finally, I would disagree with Pastor Jeffress understanding that Romney’s faith disqualifies him to be President. I generally do not comment on political issues.  Understand, this is only my opinion and not a theological teaching.  I choose to vote for who I think is the best candidate for the position considered. I do not rule out those who are Jewish, Moslem, Buddhist, Mormon, etc… for any candidacy solely on those grounds. I do take into account their faith and how their faith has informed their public life. I would not want to vote for a Moslem who is running on a platform to change our laws to align with Sharia law for example or a Christian who wants to align our laws with the laws from Leviticus either.  Generally, I am suspicious of politicians who seem to use their faith to garner votes. Finally, I am interested in how their faith has informed their voting decisions and public conduct.

Being Christian, in my opinion, does not give one the corner on wisdom, reason, courage, morality, leadership, empathy or honesty. These are the things I care most about when evaluating candidates. America has been blessed in the past with good leaders of different faiths on the local level, not many but a few. As our world becomes smaller there likely will be a national candidate who is not Christian in the future. When that happens, I will be prepared to vote for him or her if I deem their ideas, bearing and record makes a better case than that of their opponent.