Ash Wednesday 2018; Matthew 6:1-6; 16-21

We come fully prepared, or so we think

Privately prepared for this public outing

Fasting on our mind, alms prepared, personal piety on lockdown

Oil is on our heads, our faces are washed. We are ready.

And then you meet us here, Lord

All of the preparations in the world can’t

Measure up to that face to face moment.

You see us. You see the real us, the real me.

The me you’ve loved from first splash to now.

You see what we’re trying to hide with all of these

Preparations

You see our secrets

You see our shame

We knew we couldn’t hide. But we tried.

You find us. You seek us out

Have mercy on us

We tremble in fear and are knocked to our knees

Humbled, but not humiliated

Thankful. Prayerful. Remorseful.

We thought we were prepared.

But in prayer, you find us.

In the meal, you find us.

In the darkness, you find us.

You always find us, Lord.

Sin is a disruption to our daily lives.

We can’t escape it by ourselves.

You are the only thing to set us free with your cross shaped key

We have failed in the ways you have called us.

We were silent in the face of injustice.

We were complacent in times of persecution

We were frozen when the moment needed movement.

We weren’t who you created us to be.

We desire to do good and fail.

We desire to love and instead judge.

We desire to serve and instead become self serving.

Forgive us. We beg of you, forgive us Lord.

We follow you from death to life

And our life now has meaning.

The only bags we need are the ones you fill with mercy

Grace

And love

The next 40 days we will hear of your travels,

Of your healing

Of your teaching, preaching, and learning.

And we will hear of your entry into Jerusalem

Shouts of “Hosanna in the highest!”

Will quickly escalate into

“Crucify him”

Our voices carry, but we’ll deny like Peter

We’ll say it wasn’t us but then the cock will crow

And yet

Yet

You meet us here.

In all of our brokenness

In all of our lost promises

In all of our failed attempts at love.

You meet us here.

And somehow. Some way

We are reminded

That we are yours.

That we’ve always been yours

That we will always be yours

You rescue us from ourselves

You save us from our sin

You remind us that we belong to you

You have marked us with the cross

And sealed us with the Holy Spirit

We are dust

And to dust we shall return

 

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Sermon for 2/11/18 Mark 9:2-9 Transfiguration

In my experience, I don’t know that I have found a human emotion that more people try to avoid or that more people dislike as much as fear. I don’t know what it is about fear. Fear actually keeps us safe. But, I think we often run from fear because if people see us afraid, they might then see us as weak. And I also find that fear and pain go hand in hand. Fear and pain are two things that I find people want to avoid. And we often go through several hoops in order to avoid pain and fear. Society tells us that we need to be happy, successful, thin, rich, and on and on. In order to be what society tells us we need to be, we often run from pain and from fear. We look to mask whatever is imperfect with us in order to highlight the “believed” perfect and show that to the world.

Author Glennon Doyle Melton talks about living with fear and living with pain. She says that we often are looking for the easy button of life. Do you all remember the Staples commercial where they push that big red button and say “that was easy!” And for us, she says, we look for the easy button in order to escape or avoid fear or pain. And the easy button can be anything: food, booze, drugs, sex, the internet, gossip, and on and on. But, she proposes that instead of pushing our easy buttons that we need to be better at sitting in our pain and sitting with our fears. We try and outrun it all, but instead, we need to take up residence in pain and fear and see what they have to teach us.

And I mention this as Peter expresses a common human emotion of fear. And instead of expressing his fear (scripture says “they were terrified”) he proposes to Jesus that they just need to stay on that mountain. Peter even says let’s not only stay here, let’s live here. On this mountaintop. He was afraid and didn’t know what else to say. Instead of facing his fear, Peter wants an easy button. And the easy button, so to speak, comes in the form of God and God’s declaration. God says “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” What? That’s an easy button? Yes. Follow me here.

Fear is part of our lives. Pain is part of our lives. We cannot avoid it. We may try. But there is no human made “easy button.” The only easy button in our lives is the cross. And in order to fully experience the cross we must fully experience fear and pain. On this day, Transfiguration, my proposal beloveds, is that we allow ourselves to be transformed and transfigured by pain and fear. What do pain and fear have to teach us? Jesus wasn’t one to run from pain and fear. He could have stayed on the top of that mountain. But instead, he came down the mountain into a valley where he would be met, eventually, but the people who would arrest and crucify him.

And I know what you may be thinking “of course Jesus didn’t run from pain and fear….he’s Jesus.” Right. I get it. But part of our call to be disciples as I’ve been talking about week after week is to not only point to Jesus but follow him as well. It’s easy for us to talk about Jesus. It might even be easy to point to Jesus and the ways that he moves and acts throughout this world. But to literally follow Jesus is scary. Our fear takes hold and gets the best of us and then we go looking for those man-made easy buttons.

Jesus goes to places we don’t like to even think about going. Jesus goes to disease infested, war torn, s-hole countries (as President Trump would say) that we’d rather not think exist. But he goes there because the promise that God has made to all of humanity is that we will not be abandoned by God. And so God sends us Jesus. If Jesus descended into hell, you can bet that going places that other people would rather forget probably seems like a cakewalk. And I’m not proposing that we need to all pack our bags and go on a mission trip. I mean that following Jesus is something that can start small. Anytime you may find yourself thinking or expressing the feeling of “I can’t go there” or “I can’t talk to them because it would just break my heart” then that is exactly where you need to be. Because that is exactly where Jesus is. We may want to avoid pain and fear but that is exactly where Christ normally hangs out.

When God says “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” God is telling us that EVERYTHING that Jesus has told us and will tell us about his life, death, and resurrection is true. And if that is true, my beloveds, then the pain and fear we may feel not only is real, but we’re not alone. And the pain and fear we go through will vanish in death thanks to God’s saving action on the cross. Beautiful Miss Shelby is going to get baptized today. And in baptism we never promise a life without pain and fear. Of course, we don’t want that for her. But it will happen. But in baptism we are promised a life where Jesus is going to be with us every single step of the way. No matter what.

I hope that Shelby will learn and I pray that all of us can learn that instead of reaching for the “easy button,” instead of being tempted to do whatever it is we need to do to escape pain and fear, that we instead remember that in our pain and in our fear is where Christ tends to be. In our pain and in our fear is usually where we learn the most. In our pain and in our fear is where we find out who we are and whose we are. We too often are like Peter: desiring to be comfortable, set up shop, and avoid not only pain and fear, but those dark valleys. But if we somehow are able to avoid those, are we really living the life that God intended for us? We don’t go searching out fear and pain, but it is out there.

For some reason, we may also think that in order to be people of God that coming to church means coming “cleaned up.” When we come to God’s house we certainly cannot be filled with pain and fear. People don’t like to see that. We must come neat, put together, and with the appearance that all is fine and good. But if we believe that Christ truly is present in this place, and I really hope we believe that, then why would we not come as we are even if that means coming full of pain and fear? If Christ is going to meet us here, Christ will meet us in our pain and in our fear even if no one else does. Many of us work really hard to present masks of ourselves to the world, pretending to be perfect. But I am sure that Christ would prefer us to be present over perfect. Christ would prefer us to be flawed over fake.

Shelby’s transfiguration starts today. She will be transfigured into a child of God. And for you, my dearests, be reminded that your transfiguration started long ago at these waters as well. God met you here and continues to walk with you. It is okay to fear. It is okay to have pain. Our God is a God who suffered on a cross. There’s no pain that compares to that. That suffering erases ours. If you’re looking for an easy button, you’ll find it in the cross.

Sermon for 2/4/18 Mark 1:29-39

Many of you may recall that in my first year or so here, I had a few hospital stays. I was quite sick. Thanks to a super-bug that will not die, I caught something called “clostridium difficile” also known as c-diff. It is basically an overabundance of bad bacteria in your gut and colon. I will spare you all the symptoms, but if someone who is older or who already has a weakened immune system catches c-diff, they could die. It is very common after antibiotic use and among those who have been hospitalized or in a long term care facility. My best guess is that I caught it by doing nursing home and hospital visits. It can live on elevator buttons, bed rails, door knobs, and on and on. And the awesome (sarcastic) news is that plain old hand sanitizer does not kill it. So, I got c-diff not once, not twice, but three times within an 18 month period. And it was awful.

I had an appointment with a specialist in Iowa City (a GI) to see about an operation that could maybe get rid of it. It’s a transplant of sorts. Although again, I will spare you the details. The doctor looked at me, looked at my chart and said “you’re not a good candidate for this.” And I immediately broke down crying. If I wasn’t a good candidate, who was? The other awful thing about c-diff is that immediately I was made to feel like a leper. People coming to visit me had to wear a gown, gloves, and a mask. The nurse had a disposable stethoscope that was kept in my room for only use on me; same with a blood pressure cuff. I was also made to feel incredibly dirty. I got asked multiple times if I washed my hands after using the restroom and on and on. I desperately wanted healing.

When I finally did get better, all I wanted to do was make sure no one else would have to go through what I went through. In many ways, I became a c-diff evangelist. Maybe you can relate to this, but with healing comes power. If you have been healed from anything: the flu, a broken bone, no signs of cancer, and on and on, you know the power that can come from healing. You know the power that can come with feeling like you have your life back. And if you have experienced this kind of healing, you also know that you may see life a little differently.

I think that is what happened with Simon’s mother-in-law. There are so many jokes that a  reader might be tempted to make with this. There are mother-in-law or father-in-law jokes and/or horror stories. On top of that, we are told that upon being healed, Simon’s mother-in-law began to serve Jesus and all of the disciples that were present. Ha-ha. How funny, a woman started serving all the men. Ha-ha. Yeah…nope. Her serving them had nothing to do with her status in life or her gender. Although we are not told so explicitly, it is very likely that Simon’s mother-in-law was widowed. So she is a single woman who, up until now, had been very sick. She had been, according to Jewish law and customs, most likely unclean. Simon’s mother-in-law serving those around her is not the present day equivalent of “get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich, woman.”  Simon’s mother-in-law does not serve because she has to. She serves because the love of God that she has experienced through her healing is too much to keep to herself. She serves because this is what it looks like to be a disciple. Simon’s mother-in-law is a beautiful example of what it looks like to follow Jesus.

Jesus doesn’t heal people just to heal them. It’s not like he’s a traveling magician going from town to town leaving healed people in his midst with no reaction. No. The Gospel of Mark starts with this phrase “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” And it ends with Jesus sending out all of his disciples to share the good news. And the good news is that the Kingdom of God is here. It’s not some far off idea. It’s not some concept that will happen “someday.” The Kingdom of God is in the here and now. And we, my beloved, we all have a roll in the Kingdom of God. Simon’s mother-in-law didn’t get up and serve as a way of thanking Jesus. We know better than that. Jesus heals people that have no way of paying him. Jesus walks with people who will only go so far. Jesus paid the price without any expectation of being paid back. Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law as yet more proof that the Kingdom of God is in the here and now and. And her response looks a lot like what Jesus himself does: she serves just as he did.

When you have been a recipient of God’s healing or God’s grace, it’s hard not to want to serve others, or at least tell others what you have experienced. And before you tell me “oh Pastor, I don’t know. I haven’t had that kind of healing or that kind of grace” I am going to tell you to stop right there. Because you have experienced it. Maybe you didn’t know you experienced it, but you did. You experience it all the time when you come to this table, arms outstretched, hands hungering to be filled. You experience it when you either are baptized or remember your own baptism. We get to see God’s grace in action when water and the Holy Spirit come together. And how can we not leave this place and serve others and tell them the good news.

“Disciple” isn’t just a term for 12 guys who served Jesus. We are all disciples. Part of being part of the body of Christ is being a disciple. Our call is to look for stories of the resurrection in everyday living. I don’t mean actual resurrection from the dead, but stories of people getting another chance at life. And then, THEN, when we do hear those stories or experience those stories, we tell others about it as proof of the continuation of the Kingdom of God in the here and now. Is it easy? Not always. We don’t like people’s judgement that comes with proclaiming our discipleship title with pride. We may get nervous we don’t have the right words. We may wonder if what we really saw was a resurrection story or just dumb luck. But none of that mattered to Simon’s mother-in-law and it shouldn’t matter to us. She was healed and she started serving.

We have been healed. And so we start serving. We serve by caring for one another, by caring for the least of these around us, by caring for our world, and what is going on around us. And there are some, I know, who long for healing. Who have been begging God to be healed and nothing comes of it. Christ still heals in death, y’all. And then the promise of the resurrection becomes real for those who have died. In our baptisms and in this meal, we have been healed, if only a little bit. The Kingdom of God is in the here and now and God needs disciples. We have been healed and now it’s our turn to start serving or continue serving. The good news isn’t spread by itself, my beloved. God is calling us and has created us to serve. We live in a hurting and broken world. Now that we have been healed, it is on us to serve as Christ did. It is on us to declare hope for all. It is on us to start serving our neighbor, our friends, and everyone in need. The Kingdom of God is here and now and God’s grace is flowing through us and out of us. We’ve got plenty to share, so let’s get started.

Sermon for 1/28/18 Mark 1:21-28

I have not shied away in sharing with all of you my struggles with mental health or “brain health” as I like to call it. I don’t do this because I am hoping you will care for me, although I always welcome your prayers. I share my struggles with brain health in the hopes that if you struggle with your brain health, you will feel a little less alone. Whenever any of us battle anything, whether it’s the common cold, cancer, brain health issues, loneliness, or even financial troubles, there is something wonderful in knowing we are not alone. The wilderness is a lonely, scary place to be. To know that we are not there alone can help to keep us going. I have no doubt that we all have some kind of struggle. Some of you have shared your struggles with me or even the majority of the congregation. You know the power of prayer and the power of community. But, I also have no doubt that some of you in the pews this morning are struggling and you pray no one finds out. Maybe you are having marital issues. Maybe you justify that one more drink you take every night. Maybe you too are struggling with brain health issues. Whatever it may be, you’ve kept quiet.

Usually we have a lot of excuses for keeping quiet. We don’t want to bother people; we don’t want to be a burden on anyone. We don’t like the idea of people worrying about us. Maybe we’re just private people and prefer to keep struggles to ourselves. But, often, way too often in fact, we keep quiet because of one major issue: shame. Even though common sense will tell us otherwise, when you are the one in the middle of a struggle storm, the brain has the power to lie to you. You will hear lies like “no one will understand.” Or “you’re gonna lose friends over this one.” My brain through my depression and anxiety lies to me all the time. It tells me things like “you’re a terrible mother” or “that’s a dumb idea.” Let us not kid ourselves, friends. These voices are real for many of us and they are nothing but Satan trying to win us over.

The story that we hear in today’s Gospel reading is the first act of public ministry performed by Jesus in the Gospel of Mark. Yes, he called the disciples (we heard that last week). But this is Jesus actually doing the things Jesus is known for while in the company of other people. This act is basically an exorcism. Jesus’ first act of public ministry is to engage with an unclean man. Jesus’ first act of public ministry is to go someplace where no one else will. I don’t know if you have ever thought about this, but our society, Americans especially, spend a lot of time and money trying to keep up the perception that we are clean. We have entire aisles filled with various kinds of soap. We have soap for our hair, bodies, clothes, dishes, floors, pets, furniture, cars, and on and on. To be called “dirty” is still considered an insult. We are obsessed with being clean. Many in our society still don’t want to engage with those that are “dirty.”

We may look at the homeless, the drug addicted, the prostitutes, the undocumented, or the working poor and only see their dirtiness. As if touching these people would cause us to catch homelessness or being poor or whatever. They are dirty and we’d rather ignore or brush them off. But Jesus saw the man who was in a synagogue with unclean spirits and instead of brushing him off, Jesus rebuked those spirits to leave the man. Let me review really quickly here: the man was in a synagogue, a church, and we hear of no one before Jesus attempting to help him. This wasn’t just an issue in Jesus’ time. People who we might classify as “dirty” often come to church and we as the church turn them away. We may not actually turn them away, but we turn them away with our actions (or inactions), unkind words, or judgemental looks. We don’t want “them” in our pews.

But, in his first act of public ministry, Jesus crosses boundaries. Jesus starts his ministry by showing us exactly who he is and exactly what he is willing to do. Christ goes to the places where no one else wants to go. In his ministry, Christ is going to encounter many battlefields. He is going to be challenged on the road, in synagogues, in Rome, in front of crowds, in front of Pharisees, and on and on. It is interesting to me that the first battlefield Christ engages in is the human body. Because no place is off limits to Christ. Before Christ takes on various kingdoms, God, through Jesus Christ, enters the body to go to battle for us. I don’t know about you, my beloved, but this is good news for me.

I need that word of hope desperately. I need that promise that Christ will save me from myself. I need to hear that Christ thinks I am worthy of going to battle for. Our salvation is nothing but a relationship with God. And it’s nothing we can do. It’s an ongoing relationship where we trust that God is already active in our lives and trust that God is working in our favor. It’s acknowledging that there are parts of us that are unclean, but that those parts have no hope against Jesus Christ. I need to hear that I am not alone, and maybe you do too. And by knowing that Christ will go to the ends of the earth for me and for you, that promise of accompaniment is real. Because, as far as Christ is concerned, there is no one that is unclean. There is no one that is lost that can’t be found. There is no one that is fighting something alone.

God starts fighting for you from the moment you are splashed. In her baptism today, Zara will receive a promise that no matter what she goes through, Jesus is going to fight for her. We all have received that promise in our own baptisms, but maybe we just need to hear it again. Maybe we need to hear that promise again for ourselves. So hear this, my beloved. You are not alone. There is nothing that you are enduring that you are enduring alone. No matter what terrible lies and evil thoughts Satan tries to whisper in your ear, you are not alone. You are never alone. Your battles are being fought by more than just you. And if you fight the evils of this world and it brings death, Christ still has won. I know that there are some whose demons make this earth feel more like hell. In death, Christ wins. In death, we are freed from anything anything that may have held us hostage on earth. The demons in this story today are the same many of us still fight today. And here’s the thing: the demons recognize Jesus. They know who he is, but they don’t worship him, trust him, obey him, or love him like we do. And our love for Christ has no bearing on whether or not he will go to battle for us because he always will.

Christ will cross any barrier, any border, any obstacle that comes between us and the ability to love Christ fully. And Christ does this because you’re worth fighting for. Do you hear me, my beloved? You are worth fighting for. No matter what demons you are fighting today, no matter what demons you may fight tomorrow, Christ is with you. Christ is with you through water and the Holy Spirit. Christ is with you through bread and wine. And Christ is with you no matter how strong the demons may try to be. Christ is with you because you are worth fighting for. If you were worth dying for, which you are, then you’re most definitely worth fighting for.

Sermon for 1/21/18 Mark 1:14-20

It was a blazing hot day in late July as we unpacked our moving truck into what would be our new home in Wichita Falls, Texas. We were newly married, just returned from our honeymoon, and Chris was to start his new job in just a few weeks. One of the first things we wanted to do was find a church. The door to our apartment there on Weeks Park Lane was wide open and we heard a knock at the door. This lovely looking woman with beautifully coiffed hair (as only they can do in Texas) stood at the door. She introduced herself as a neighbor and then immediately invited us to church. “We’d love to have you come visit us at First Baptist.” Chris, jumped in and said “no thanks! We’re Lutheran.” I think she asked if that was even Christian before leaving. Chris and I both thought that had she grabbed a box off the moving truck, we might have thought about it. We kind of chuckle about it now, but I have to admire her commitment to discipleship.

Today’s text is probably familiar as we hear many stories throughout all of the Gospels of Jesus calling the disciples. In today’s story, Jesus calls Simon, Andrew, James, and John. And they all follow Jesus. Not only do they follow Jesus, but they do so immediately. I have to commend them for that. It seems like I can’t even get out of the house without at least an hour’s worth of planning. And it’s easy for me, at least, to admire Simon, Andrew, James, and John. To have that kind of faith; to leave everything immediately; to pick up and follow Jesus without a second thought. And maybe, just maybe, I can be a disciple like that someday. Following Jesus without a second thought, without a concern of worldly things, without hesitation! If only I could be like Simon, Andrew, James, and John.

So here is where I burst your bubble: Simon, Andrew, James, and John were not, by any stretch of the imagination, perfect disciples. This calling that takes place in today’s story is merely the beginning of their journey. They don’t immediately drop their nets and become some sort of super holy sin-fighting gang of super-disciples. Ahead of these four is years and years of learning and experiences. They will fail multiple times. They will have some amazing epiphany like experiences. They will think they’ve got it all figured out only to find out they don’t. Their journey to discipleship will ebb and flow. It will be full of sin and death, love and light, success, and multiple failures. I don’t know about you, but to me, this sounds a little bit like my own journey to becoming a disciple. I read a quote this week and I love it, so I am going to share with you today. Elton Brown says “Becoming a faithful Christian disciples takes both a moment and a lifetime.”

Being a disciple isn’t something you can just do once. Christ calls us daily. Whether we answer or not is another question. The goal of being like Simon, Andrew, James, and John is awesome. But remember, in the moment when Jesus was on the cross, at his most vulnerable and yet most powerful moment, those guys were nowhere to be found. I’m guessing if there was a disciple handbook, showing up at the crucifixion would probably be required. But they missed it. And the truth is, we all mess up when it comes to following Christ. No one is perfect. Do you hear me out there? No one here is a perfect Christian, or a perfect disciple, or a perfect Lutheran, or a perfect whatever. Because here’s the thing: if we were perfect, we wouldn’t need Christ. And God knows, we need Christ daily.

Our “moment” for many of us, was baptism. This was the moment that, through nothing we did on our own, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we were claimed and washed as children of God. Pretty cool, right? We got to see it last week and we will see it again next week. But for many of us, it takes a lifetime of getting the hang of this discipleship stuff. I had a visit not too long ago with a senior member of this congregation. They are over 90 and were lamenting their Christian life. “I just don’t feel like a good Christian, Pastor” they told me. I asked why and they gave me a list of things I’m pretty sure we all do. “Well, I used to do my daily devotional, but I missed a day and then another, and I haven’t picked it up in a few weeks. I don’t pray daily. Sometimes I pray before bed and I fall asleep in the middle of praying.” I assured this person that they were no different than any other Christian and that God knows our hearts and the true intentions of our hearts. Discipleship can take a lifetime. So, if you’re feeling like you’re failing at it, be gentle with yourself.

In baptism, we make promises. And we make promises as a community. This is why baptism should happen within a community of believers. We need one another. Jesus called the disciples in pairs because he knew they would need to be in community and he knew they would need one another. This is why when I lead the Lord’s Prayer at council, we hold hands as we do: as a reminder that when I’m weak, you’re strong and vice versa. We are disciples in community with one another. The promises we make at baptism are made out loud because we need a way to hold one another and ourselves accountable for what God is already calling us to do. See, we don’t believe in decision theology. We don’t believe that we are the ones who decide to follow Jesus, or claim him or whatever. Jesus is already active in our lives. God has been calling us since the day we were born. Our response is discipleship.

The promises we make are simple: live among God’s faithful people, come to the holy supper, teach and learn the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten commandments, have and give gifts of Scripture (aka the Bible), and to nurture our prayer life. But we can’t do it alone. This is why we need one another. This is why we return to this place week after week: to disciple camp, so to speak. We aren’t perfect Christians. But, Jesus isn’t calling perfect Christians, he’s not calling pensive Christians, he’s calling willing Christians. Disciples who are willing to fail and keep trying. Disciples who sin, but also believe they are saved. Disciples who mess up from time to time and instead of beating themselves up, us it as a way to point to Christ and his redeeming ways. Christ isn’t looking for perfection. Christ is looking for you.

Fishing takes a lifetime to get right. Discipleship is the same way. We’re all still learning. But, thanks be to God, we’re doing it together.

Sermon for 12/31/17 Luke 2:22-40

Ever since the tragedy of 9/11 the phrase “if you see something, say something” is more common than ever. The idea is that if you see something suspicious, then you should say something to someone in authority. We may hesitate to do this because what if we’re wrong? What if that man over there was just trying to adjust his pants, not smuggle a bomb onto a plane? There are now signs that hang basically anywhere there is public transportation that say “if you see something, say something.” And I am wondering what it might look like to approach that same philosophy when it comes to evangelism.

Our Gospel story today comes from early in Jesus’ life. It is 40 days after his birth or so. According to Jewish custom, that is when the parents would bring their sons to the temple. Keep that in mind. Jesus is still an infant. He is helpless and relying on Mary and Joseph for everything. He is not yet the miracle-performing, walking-on-water messiah we come to know. And we come to meet Simeon and Anna. In current day, we might call Simeon and Anna “pillars of the church.” They are wise, devout, very spiritual, and to be honest, old. In fact, Simeon was waiting to die. He wasn’t anxious to die; nothing like that. But, the Holy Spirit had told him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.  

Then, we hear, “guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple.” Guided by the Spirit. Which means, Simeon couldn’t necessarily see it, but he for sure felt it and maybe heard the Spirit. And what’s even more miraculous is that he listened! But, that could be a whole other sermon for another time! We don’t know how much time actually passes between Simeon coming into the temple and Mary and Joseph bringing their son into the temple, but when the Christ child arrives, Simeon starts operating under the guise of “if you see something, say something.”

For some, what happens may seem weird. Simeon took the Christ child into his arms. Some parents may read this and think “they just handed their baby over? Just like that?” Yes. This was a community of believers. I see some of you do it now. Many times, you hand your children over to a parent or grandparent, but it wouldn’t be weird to hand your baby over to just another member. And the main reason Simeon wanted to hold the Christ child is because he knew. He knew he had finally come face to face with the Messiah. And he also knew he had to say something. He requests to depart in peace. Simeon had finally seen the salvation of the world in Jesus. Simeon had (literally) seen the light; the light of the world! Simeon is one of the first people in Luke to attest to who Jesus is. Additionally, Simeon is one of the first to speak of what will happen to Jesus. In fact, he tells Mary “a sword will pierce your own soul too.” I can think of no greater pain than watching a child die, which is exactly what Jesus did. As painful as it must have been for Simeon to say something, he was in a holy place and must have felt that there were no other options. Sometimes seeing something and saying something leads to hard truths.

Anna also follows the idea of “see something, say something.” This was dangerous for her. She’s a widow, she’s older, and she’s female. During this time, she would have been seen as basically useless to society. But that didn’t stop her from being an evangelist or from being a disciple. She praised God and spoke about the child to anyone who was looking to redeem Jerusalem. Now, was she listened to? I don’t know. But that didn’t stop her. These are two people who have experienced great darkness. Simeon was old. Some experts date him to at least 100. For that time, living that long would have been nothing short of a miracle. He most likely experienced all the trials and tribulations that had come with aging. And, he was ready to transition from this world into the next. As mentioned, Anna was widowed, she was older, 84, and her entire life consisted of praying and fasting. She probably also experienced the highs and lows that come with aging. It is very possible that these two knew great sorrow. They knew great darkness. They knew great heartache. It is only because of those experiences that they can know great joy. It is only from those experiences that they know the warmth and hope of the true light.

And are they saying something because they themselves need to say it or are they saying it because they feel other people need to hear it? Yes. Sometimes being an evangelist, or a disciple, which is what God calls all of us to be, means that you sometimes speak things that even you need to hear. I often say that I preach first and foremost to myself. I say things out loud that I need to hear. It is possible then, that if I see something in you and I say something to you, then I need you to do the same for me. I know I’ve often said that I think we Lutherans shy away from using the word “evangelical” to describe us. The media would have us believe that word only describes a certain kind of Christian with a certain set of beliefs. When, in reality, we are all called to be evangelicals. We are called to share the good news of God’s saving action through Jesus Christ. When we see God acting in this world we should say something.

Christmas isn’t over yet. Maybe you’ve already put away the tree, or the nativity, or perhaps even returned some gifts. But, the good news is still here with us. God, through Jesus Christ, became fully human. This is good news. And when you see someone that needs that good news, you should say something. Maybe that will be someone in need of a prayer, a helping hand, a nice smile, or maybe it will be something more challenging like the hard truth. Part of being disciples is to care for one another. Sometimes that means directing one another back onto the road that Jesus already has planned and laid out for us. I guess you could call that tough love. It’s not too late to give someone the gift of saying something. The easiest (yet maybe most challenging thing) you can say to someone is “Jesus loves you.” It’s easy because those three words aren’t hard to pronounce. They’re usually not hard to say. But, it can be challenging because in order to say them you must believe it for yourself. Part of being an evangelical is that you have to believe your own message.

Simeon knew that the Christ child that came into the temple was the one he had been waiting for. He had a message and he wasn’t going to let anyone or any thing get in his way. He had Holy Spirit confidence behind him. He believed it. The same goes for us. God has prepared us for such a time as this. And as we go into the new calendar year, I cannot think of a better mantra that we can have as Christians than “if you see something, say something.” So, my beloved, when you see a hurting world, say something. When you see injustice, say something. When you see baptismal promises being lived out, say something! When you see someone needing love, say something. When you see God acting in and around your daily life, say something. When you see something, say something. Believe it. Declare it. Rejoice in it. See it. And say it.

Sermon for 12/24/17 Luke 1:26-38; Advent 4

This is one of my secrets but is also not a secret: I love Broadway showtunes. I can be found often rocking out to Rogers and Hammerstein, Andrew Lloyd Weber, and most recently: Lin Manuel Miranda. So, there’s a popular little musical on Broadway right now, you may have heard of it. It’s called “Hamilton.” And yes, it’s the story of Alexander Hamilton, one of this country’s founding fathers and the guy on the $10. And of course, as I was listening to the soundtrack this week for the 1000th time, I heard something that made me think of today’s text. So, I want to share this with you. The song is called “History Has Its Eyes on You.” George Washington needs some help, finally after some convincing, he callson Alexander Hamilton. What follows is this song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDeWJ0SiFCA)

I thought about Mary. Did she know? Did she know that history would have its eyes on her? Did she know that we would discuss her for years to come? She had no control, as the song said, of who would tell her story. And so, here we are, telling her story. Thousands of years later, we tell Mary’s story. And history still has its eyes on her. Did she have any idea? From the first time the angel greeted her with “greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you” her life changed. Because really, up until then, she probably wasn’t considered a favored one. She was female. She was young. She wasn’t rich. She wasn’t extraordinary. She was ordinary. But in her ordinariness, she was found to be favored. She was like us: sinner and saint at the same time. And yet somehow, she was part of the work of God. And so are we.

While Mary is the mother of Jesus, our Lord and Savior, she was also a nobody. I don’t say that to be disrespectful. But until the angel Gabriel came to her, she was a nobody. And believe it or not, this is good news for us. Because if God can look upon Mary, who society would have looked at as a nobody, then God can look upon us. God chose Mary because she had nothing. God is going to become the incarnate Lord; Jesus will be fully human and fully divine. And out of all the people in the world, God chose Mary. Mary was, in her own words, poor and lowly. God’s coming reign which will consist of justice and mercy is embodied in Mary. The salvation of the whole world will be born by a nobody. And despite her confusion and a little bit of fear, Mary says “here I am….let it be.”

If we think that God is not going to find us, call us, come for us, or have expectations of us just because we try to keep a quiet lifestyle, we live in a quiet place, and try and live boring, unassuming lives, then we are terribly wrong. History has its eyes on us too. It’s exactly in the unexpected that God shows up. God shows up in the unexpected places. God shows up to unexpected people. God shows up at unexpected times. God shows up with unexpected reason. And every time God shows up, it takes us by surprise and we can’t but not respond. We may go through the same emotions as Mary: perplexed, confused, thoughtful, and/or afraid. But how amazing will our lives be after all those feelings, we finally settle into the incarnation promise and respond to God with “here I am….let it be.” We can try and fight God’s call on our lives, but remember, we have no control who tells our story.

We have every right to question God. Mary did. But there’s a difference in questioning God and doubting God. We have all had those but “how can this be” moments. But nothing is impossible with God. And yes, we try to get in God’s way and our own way time after time. We  put up our own blocks. We fight the call on our lives that God has for each and every single one of us. “Not me, God…you must mean someone else.” But no! Greatness lies in you. God is calling on each and every one of us for a purpose, for a time, and for a place. We can either remain scared and afraid, or listen and respond to God. But, what kind of a life do we end up living if we walk through life completely scared and afraid? God’s way is to call on a nobody and make their life a something and make them a somebody. We may have no control over who tells our stories, but God does. God already has our story written. God had Mary’s story written. When Gabriel came calling, Mary’s story took an unexpected turn and she rose to greatness. History still has their eyes on her.

God had a very large job and expectation of Mary. For her, it might have seemed unachievable. But, we’ve all been there. God might have called on us to do something, walk with someone, serve God’s people in some form and we may have said “ain’t no way.” But we are reminded, just as Mary was, that the Holy Spirit, who later is scripture is called “the advocate” is with us. God’s power will overshadow us. This should be a comfort to Mary and to us that when we encounter overwhelming expectations, God is already there to encourage us. And yes, you have no control who lives, who dies, or who tells your story. But, you do have control over you. You have the ability to say yes to God. You have the ability to respond to God’s call that may seem impossible to anyone else, but with God nothing is impossible. You have the power of the Holy Spirit behind you. You have Jesus Christ, God incarnate born into this world and crucified on the cross as proof of God’s love. Maybe the miracle we all need this Christmas, this fourth Sunday of Advent, my beloveds, is to be brave enough, bold enough, and courageous enough to say “here I am … let it be” and watch the Holy Spirit attain miracles through us. History has its eyes on us.