Category: Faith

Children’s Sermon: Evergreen (and a dancing tree)

Bring the Dancing Tree (that is so, so, loud). Find an extension cord to make sure you can plug it in.

Hi everyone! I’m so glad you are here today.

So last week, I was visiting family in Philadelphia and my uncle brought out this old, old, Christmas decoration. And he joked that it would be going home with me – and lo and behold, it ended up coming home with me. So what does this look like? A christmas tree. A hat. It has eyes.

It’s also something that moves and sings….so lets plug it in and see what happens.

Plug in the tree. Clap hands. Watch the tree sing loud and loud.

So you know what’s fun? This tree is really loud and that’s the low setting. And, every time you keep clapping in front of it, it keeps going…and going…and going..and going. It’s like it never.ever.ends. Which…can be fun for some – but maybe not everyone thinks that’s so much fun.

So this is a plastic and electronic tree that sings, and dances, and wears a santa hat, and after you hear it go off for the 3rd time, you think it’s never going to stop and end. It’s the kind of Christmas decoration that is always…just…giving. But you know what? It’s good that this never-ending singing decoration is an evergreen tree. And if you look around, do you see all sorts of other decorations that look like this? The Christmas tree. The advent wreath. The wreaths on the wall. One of the symbols of this season – of Christmas – is the evergreen tree. We use it to decorate in our homes, to make wreaths, to make circles, etc. It’s a tree that, no matter what season, it’s pine needles are always green. In the summer, it’s green. In the spring, it’s green. In the fall, it’s green. And in the winter, when all the other trees have lost their leaves, what’s this tree doing? It’s still green. It’s always green. It always looks like it’s living, no matter what storm or snow or whatever comes it’s way. It’s a green tree that never ends.

And that’s a Christmas symbol because it reminds us something about Jesus. Jesus’ love for each of us – and for this world – is just like this green dancing tree; it never ends, no matter what. So when you see a Christmas wreath or a Christmas tree – know that it’s an evergreen symbol of Jesus’ love. A love that doesn’t end when we’re sad or feeling lonely or when we make mistakes or when we’re really happy and feel everything is going okay. Jesus’ love for us never ends – and that’s what this season – Advent and Christmas is all about.

Thank you for being here and I hope you have a blessed week!

Each week, I share a reflection for all children of God. The written manuscript serves as a springboard for what I do. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship on Third Sunday of Advent, 12/17/2017.

Who Are You? Shining Bright

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.

This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” as the prophet Isaiah said. Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.

John 1:6-8,19-28

My sermon from Third Sunday of Advent (December 17, 2017) on John 1:6-8,19-28. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

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When I was younger, the long string of Christmas lights that wrapped around my Christmas tree sort of scared me. Now, don’t get me wrong – the lights were beautiful to look at. But I never really had a good relationship with the lights themselves. They were always tangled and I was the one assigned to untangle them. I would tested each string of lights and I usually ended up getting a little electric shock while trying to find that one bulb that was burnt out. And when the lights were finally wrapped around the tree, the bulbs would get so hot they would burn me when I accidentally touched them. Old fashion Christmas lights were kind of spooky to me but nowadays, LED Christmas lights are a brand new thing. They come in all sorts of colors; they are incredibly bright; and even though they still get tangled, they at least remain cool to the touch. I really like LED Christmas lights and I know I’m not alone. In fact, it seems like a lot of suburban homeowners are switching their outdoor Christmas lights to LEDs. And this is a good thing because LEDs, in theory, last a long time and use less energy. If, for example, an old fashion string of 100 mini-incandescent lights were turned on and used 12 hours a day for 45 days in a row, that would cost about $3.50 to run. But if you took that string of lights and replaced it with LEDs, the cost to use those lights drops to 41 cents. That’s 1/8th the cost for the same amount of light. We can make our outdoor Christmas lights displays more environmentally friendly and cheaper all at the same time. But some recent studies involving nighttime satellite imagery shows that the transition to outdoor LED Christmas lights is not only about having a less costly electric bill. No, people are using that cost savings to invest in more lights. Because if it costs 1/8th of what it did before to run a new string of lights, it makes sense to get 7 more strings of lights so that you can maximize the your Christmas buck. Our outdoor Christmas light displays are getting bigger and brighter. And if you were up in space and looking down on the United States, you would see the light output in the suburbs increase by 50% during the month of December. And with LEDs now becoming more prevalent, that number grows every year. These new LED lights help us to shine brighter than we ever could before. This is one of the ways, I think, we testify to a truth that we don’t always feel or see. As the nights in our part of the world grow longer and longer, we do the only thing we can do: we flip a switch and throw a little more light into whatever darkness surrounds us.

And flipping that switch – that’s a very Advent thing to do. As we hear in our reading from John today, testifying – shining – witnessing to this light – is what this season is all about. Now, this week is a little odd because we met Mark’s version of John the Baptist last week. And John’s version of the Baptist is a bit different. John’s Baptist spends a lot of time saying no. “No, I’m not Elijah. No, I’m not the prophet. No, I’m not the Messiah. No, I’m not the light.” Instead, what John’s Baptist does is testify. He shares and bares witness to the truth. Mark depicts John the Baptist as a bit of a wild man who is eating bugs out in the desert. But John’s Baptist is a guy who primarily just talks. He shares what he knows and what he has experienced. Over and over again, he breaks the silence that wants him to stay quiet. John’s Baptist keeps talking about God, pointing out to others where God is and where God is active in the world. At every possible moment, he is pointing to that light that he knows is out there. And he does this even though he knows not everyone will believe. Once john’s Baptist tells the truth, he has no control over what other people will say or do once they hear it. He doesn’t get to tell others how they should react. So John’s Baptist just keeps on talking – and he doesn’t let his fear about how other people will respond stop him from telling the truth; the truth that is Jesus – this God in the flesh.
And this kind of testifying, this kind of witnessing, is really hard. It’s hard because keeping silent is sometimes the safest thing we can do. Any time we share a truth or an experience that we’ve had, it’s easy for others to not believe us. How many times have you had your feelings brushed aside after you shared how you felt? How many times were you blamed for that thing that you experienced? Too often, we are told that our feelings or responses to our personal experiences are, somehow, wrong. We’re the ones, we’re told, who misinterpreted what happened to us. We’re the ones who are being too judgmental and our experience wasn’t really that bad and we’re being a little too sensitive. We start believing what others say, learning that we can’t trust our own experiences, and that other people are the only ones allowed to interpret our own story. We discover what it’s like to be disbelieved and, in that process, we lose the ability to tell our own story. We lose a bit of who we are because this shadow that surrounds us has more say over our lives than we do. We end up doubting the truth and we try to cover up whatever light we see.

But the truth is something that always needs to be brought out into the open. When we tell the truth; when we give witness to the light as we know it, we are, in the words of Dr. Karoline Lewis, “[insisting] that [this] light will indeed shine, [overcoming] the darkness that has hidden so much for so long.” This season, this Advent, is more than just a countdown to Christmas. Advent is an opportunity for all of us to flip a switch, to turn on every light, and give witness to the truth that we know. Every experience we’ve had is our experience and the story we tell is a story that has value. Now, I know that not every story will be told. And there are some stories that we might not be ready to share with those around us. And that’s okay. But when we hear someone else’s truth, we are called to protect their truth and believe them. We’re not here to dismiss them. We are here to listen, to learn, to comfort, and – if need be – to change. And if we can, we add a little more light to their story by telling one of our own. We show through our words and actions that they are not alone. Because, as we see in today’s reading from John, testifying to the light – sharing and giving witness to the truth is our Christian calling. It’s what Advent – this time of waiting – this time of anticipation – this time of expecting – is all about. Because Jesus invites us to remember that “our God…moves about this world feeling everything we feel.” Our God is always with us, no matter what. And because God is with us, because God decided to be born, to grow up, and have actual human experiences, our God, our Jesus, will be with you even when telling the truth ends up being the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

Amen.

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The Spirit of the Lord

One of the neat things about the incarnation is how messy it is. The incarnation, if you don’t know term, is what Jesus does on Christmas day: Jesus is born. In his birth, Jesus decided to become a human being. But Jesus doesn’t lose his divine identity when he does this. Instead, Jesus becomes a paradox. He is both 100% human and 100% divine. This is something that shouldn’t be possible because someone who is 100% divine cannot be 100% human (i.e. someone who can die, someone who needs to eat, someone who needs to sleep) at the same time. The incarnation (Jesus becoming human; God being born) is messy because our lives, from the beginning, are messy events. We enter the world covered in goo. We spend time in the dirt and in the grass. We eat, sweat, and sometimes stink. Jesus chose to be messy which, if we think about it, is a surprising thing for God to do.

Yet this messiness is also an invitation brining us closer to God. Instead of viewing the incarnation only as a moment when God comes to us, our reading from Isaiah invites us to wonder what it would be like to go towards God. If we were on God’s home turf, hanging out in God’s kingdom, what would it look like? What would be happening? Isaiah answers those questions with his words here. God does more than just accompany us on our journey. God is also an activate participate in whatever God created. God empowers people to bring good news to the oppress, to heal the broken, and to free prisoners. God’s kingdom is a world filled with justice and peace. God kingdom is, in the end, the place where the vulnerable are made whole, no matter what.

These words from Isaiah 61:1-4,8-11 are words that are central to Jesus’ public ministry. In the gospel according to Luke, Jesus quotes these passages and the crowd almost throws him off a cliff. The crowd could see that Jesus’ words were powerful because they knew what Jesus’ words meant. The passage from Isaiah proclaims a promise that God’s kingdom is a kingdom where a great reversal takes place. The situation in our world will be reversed by a God who desires life, love, and peace to all people, regardless of where they were born or what advantages they gained in life. The incarnation isn’t only about Jesus being born. The incarnation is also an invitation for us to realize that a part of our Christian life is to follow Jesus by being Jesus-like to all our neighbors in need

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for Third Sunday of Advent, 12/17/2017.

Children’s Sermon: Meet John (the baptist)

Bring Honey Sticks. Bring Spark Story Bible.

Hi everyone! I’m so glad you are here today.

So today in our gospel reading, we’re going to meet someone named John. Now John was a bit unusual. Open story bible to page 234. Here’s one picture of what an artist imagined John the Baptist to look like. What do you see? He’s got big hair. Little eyes. Big Nose. A big mouth. And he’s eating a bug. A bug! It’s a kind of bug called a grasshopper. Our bible story will tell us today that this man named John will be hanging out in the wilderness eating grasshoppers and wild honey. That doesn’t sound like the most yummy meal to eat.

But John seems to be doing okay out in the wilderness. And that word “wilderness” is important. It’s a word that means a place where there are no towns, buildings, cars, and where people don’t really live. What do you think a place like that looks like? A forest. A prairie. A dessert. It’s empty of people but full of animals, and maybe different kinds of plants. A wilderness is a place that’s a little bit adventurous but also a little scary. It’s a place where, if we need help, we might not find what we need. It’s a place where, in today’s term, you get no cell service. There’s no gas stations if our gas tank in our car is low or a water fountain and we can’t stop by Target to pick up new clothes or something we need. A wilderness is a place where we might need to bring all the stuff we need. We’ll need to bring all the food, and bed, and a tent – all the things to have a camp. Because, out in the wilderness, it feels like nothing is out there. We can feel scared because we might feel alone. We can be a little nervous because we might feel lost and unsure of where to go. And we might feel anxious because being a new place or a place far from home can be scary.

But there’s someone else always out in the wilderness – and that’s God.

John was in the wilderness because he knew that even in scary places, God is there. Even when we are scared, or we find ourselves anxious, or we’re confused and feeling lost, God is right there with us. In fact, there’s nowhere we can go that God can’t find us. There might be times when you’re feeling anxious, scared, or lost. You might find yourself in a wilderness or feeling like you’re living one. But even when we feel as if we are in a wilderness, God is always there, helping us, loving us, guiding us, and making sure we are never alone.

Now, you’ll hear how John ate bugs. I couldn’t find any bugs…but I did find…honey! So if you can have a honey stick, here you go. Share the honey sticks.

Thank you for being here and I hope you have a blessed week!

Each week, I share a reflection for all children of God. The written manuscript serves as a springboard for what I do. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship on Second Sunday of Advent, 12/10/2017.

Prepare the way?

Does God need us to prepare the way of the Lord?

Today’s reading from Isaiah 40:1-11 is a text Christians see as pointing to the ministry John the Baptist did. God called a person to bring God’s word of comfort and challenge to all of God’s people. But this text is more than just a prediction of something that happened 600 years after it was written. It’s a passage that also tells the story of a prophet preaching to the Jewish community in Exile. The Babylonian empire had destroyed Jerusalem, burned God’s Temple, and forcibly relocated the survivors to what is now Iraq. The people felt abandoned because the war destroyed their homeland. They wondered where God was because it seemed as if God broke all of God’s promises. Their faith, identity, and sense of self are in turmoil. And that’s when God brings all of them a word of comfort and hope. At first, this new prophet wondered why they should preach at all. The people, the prophet proclaimed, are like grass and flowers – they might pay attention to God’s word when it suits them but, eventually, they will turn away. God, however, responded by reminding the prophet of who God is. The value and worth of God’s word does not depend on what people do once they hear it. Instead, God’s word matters because it comes from God. And even in our moments when we feel abandoned and all alone, God is still with us and will never let us go.

There are times in our lives when we think we can convince God to something on our behalf. We bargain with God, making promises of our own. We tell God we’ll go to church each week, hoping that we will be blessed. We promise to pray every night, and hope God will make a health crisis pass. We see a preacher on tv and send him money because he promises that God will reward us with more money than we give to him. And we sometimes act as if we can force Jesus’ return if we make some kind of political or religious event happen. But does God, the creator of the universe, need us to do that? Can we truly bargain with the one who is the past, the present, and the future all at once? Our God isn’t a God who believes in “pay-to-play” kind of realities. Our God, instead, just loves. Our God, instead, keeps God’s promises. We worship, study, pray, and live generous lives because, in Christ, we discover that is exactly who God is. Jesus knows what it’s like to feel abandoned. He knows what it’s like when people don’t believe the stories he shares. He knows what it’s like when the powerful try to shut him down, refusing to listen to his experiences. He knows what it is like to cry out to God in pain, suffering, and hope. Jesus knows what it’s like to be like us. The story of God isn’t a story where people someone convince God to be on our side. God’s story is about discovering how God is with us, no matter what. When we know Jesus, we see God more clearly. And when we live a Jesus-like life, we discover who God wants us to be.

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for Second Sunday of Advent, 12/10/2017.

No Room: starting in the middle of the story

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
who will prepare your way;
the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight,’”
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

Mark 1:1-8

My sermon from Second Sunday of Advent (December 10, 2017) on Mark 1:1-8. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

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If you are giving out Christmas gifts this year, who on your list is the hardest person to shop for? For me, it’s my parents. They are terrible to shop for. They are one of the few people I know who, when you ask them what they want, will say “nothing” – and they mean it. They buy what they want when they want it; they like to plan and pay for their own adventures; and they are content with what they have. It’s so annoying. So over the last few years, I’ve resorted to sending them a photo book full of pictures of their grandkids. I go through all the pictures I took over the last year, relive all those memories we created, and put an entire year into book form. It’s sort of a fun thing to create. But making this kind of book is also a little terrifying because I want it to be perfect. I have this subconscious desire to give my parents a photo book that’s full of beautiful pictures. I want them to open the book up and instantly know what we were doing without me having to explain it. And if I’m honest, I also want to – sort of – show off just a tiny little bit. I want to humblebrag and overtly brag about just how fun, awesome, and well-adjusted my family is. And this is an odd thing to do because my parents know just how imperfect we are. They’re not asking me to brag or measure up but I feel like I need to anyways. There’s probably some kind of family dynamic at work here that I should unpack with a therapist at some point but there’s another issue here too. There’s something about this season, about these four weeks before Christmas when all of us, I think, try to chase after a picture perfect kind of Christmas. And even if we don’t think we do, the image of what a perfect Christmas looks like is all around us. Stores, tv ads, and every show on HGTV flashes hints about just how postcard perfect your holiday could be. I wonder if, even subconsciously, being around so much perfect ends up changing what we do. We start needing our Christmas tree and out decorations to be just right. We need to find that perfect present for everyone on our list. And we do all we can to look impeccable and festive at every holiday party we attend. We are in a season where being perfect isn’t only for kids trying to use their good behavior to convince Santa to bring them the toy they really really want. It’s also a season when all of us chase after perfection: the perfect home, the perfect meal, the perfect relationship, and a perfect, peaceful, and loving family. The weeks before Christmas is when we try to make an ideal a reality. That’s why I want my photo book for my parents to be all kinds of awesome. And why I want the last photo in that book to be a perfect family portrait with everyone, including the 3 year old, looking straight at the camera.

But you know what? That perfect picture has yet to come. And it’s sort of amazing how many different ways that picture fails to actually work out. The Christmas ideal, this picture or expectation we carry with us – rarely ever shows up – because we live in the real world. There’s never a holiday where there isn’t stress, or worry, or disagreement, or conflict. And even when the stars align and we are blessed to have a moment that meets our incredible expectations, that moment doesn’t last. The imperfect always comes back. And even though I think most of us know, deep down, that this season will not be perfect, we still get caught up chasing after our ideal. And that chase causes us to act as if this season, somehow, depends fully on us. If the tree lights go out or a turkey gets burned or if a heated conversation leads to conflict and anger around our dining room table – the more we chase after the ideal, the more we make Christmas depend on what do, what we say, and what we can afford. We make Christmas, in the end, depend on us. And a Christmas that depends on us, doesn’t really sound like Christmas at all.

Now, the next four weeks will not be as perfect as we want them to be. Our homes will not look like they belong on HGTV nor will every Christmas light on our pre-lit tree actually last all month long. And not everyone in our family will be looking at the camera. But that’s okay. Because this season, this Advent, this waiting for Christmas – isn’t a season that depends on us. It’s a season about a God who showed up, stuck around, and will come back soon even though we, as people, rarely live and love and serve the world as the ideal Christians God calls us to be.

Jesus, in this passage from Mark, makes a promise to us and to the entire world. He tells us to keep awake because we do not know when the master of the house will come; they might come in the evening, or at midnight, or at the cockcrow, or at dawn. Jesus, in these verses, seems to tell his friends to be ready for the moment when God will shake every mountain. But I think Jesus is really telling them to keep their eyes open because God is about to do something that doesn’t appear ideal. Jesus, in the chapters right after this passage, takes his first steps towards the Cross: a journey starts with a meal, in the evening, with his friends. And after this last supper, Jesus is betrayed and, in a moment of anguish and prayer, he finds his disciples asleep because it was the middle of the night. Jesus is then arrested and his trial begins. We listen and watch his disciple Peter deny him as the cock crows. And then, in the morning, Jesus is brought before the Roman Governor Pontius Pilate who then condemns him to death. In the words of David Lose, “the heavens shake and the sun is darkened … [at] precisely … the moment when [Jesus] is nailed to the cross and our breath is taken away as we see God’s love poured out for us and all the world.” We are not in a season asking us to reach some ideal. Rather, we are with a God who, regardless of the season, comes to us as we are because the imperfect, the vulnerable, the sick, lonely, poor, and hungry are worth a love that does not end. Will we still try to chase our ideal Christmas this year? Yes. But does that mean that Jesus will only show up if we get Christmas right? Not at all. Because the picture perfect love that God gives the world is a love that shows up in the form of a fussy and vulnerable little baby and is made real by a savior who, with arms outstretched, shows us what a picture perfect kind of love actually looks like.

Amen.

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Children’s Sermon: Invite and Share

Bring 100 postcards with an invitation to Christmas Eve worship services. Be by the Advent Wreath.

Hi everyone! I’m so glad you are here today. I hope you had a great week.

Now today is a special day because it is the start of a season in the church year called Advent. Can you say Advent? Advent! Great! Advent is 4 weeks long – 4 complete Sundays – and it’s a time when the church is covered in the color…point to stole…blue. Later today, some of us will decorate the church with wreaths and a big, green, tree. Advent is a time when we’re waiting for something. In fact, the word Advent means “the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.” So what do you think we’re waiting for? Christmas! That’s right. Advent is the season when we countdown to Christmas, to the day we celebrate Jesus being born and God choosing to live a human life to serve, love, and save the entire world.

Advent is also a time when we use this. Go over to the Advent Wreath. This is called an Advent wreath and it has space for 4 candles. Each candle represents one Sunday as we countdown to Christmas. So since today is the first Sunday we’re going to light one candle. Let’s light one candle together. Light one candle with the kids.

One of the beautiful things about candles is they burn, shine, and look pretty. What’s something that candles give off? Heat. Light. If we get close, we can feel heat because it is on fire. And if we look at it, we see light. The candle shares it’s light and it’s warmth, serving as a reminder to what Jesus is about to do: come into the world to show us the warmth of God’s love for you and all of us.

And so, when I was thinking about what the candle shares, I thought of something that maybe we can share too. We as a church are going to have a big celebration on Christmas Eve. Since Christmas Eve is on a Sunday, we’ll have one worship service at 10 am in the morning to mark the end of Advent. And then we’ll have our two worship services at night, at 5 pm and 10:30 pm, to mark Jesus entering the world. I love these Christmas services. The music is great, everyone gets dressed up, and it’s a beautiful time for all of us to be together. It’s a great service that shows just how much God loves us. And all of us are going to experience that – but wouldn’t it be great if all our friends or family members or neighbors could join us? Yeah! So why don’t we share an invitation with them to do that?

I have with me postcards and I’m going to need your help. Let’s give 1 or 2 postcards to each person and family. This way, all of you can address them to people you know and invite them to come to worship with you on Christmas Eve. With a simple postcard, we can – like this candle – bring warmth and hope to someone who might need it this year. So let’s invite and share Jesus this Christmas.

Pass out postcards. Thank you for being here and I hope you have a blessed week!

Each week, I share a reflection for all children of God. The written manuscript serves as a springboard for what I do. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship on First Sunday of Advent, 12/3/2017.

Quake: When God Shows Up

When God shows up, what do we expect will happen? Today’s reading from Isaiah 64:1-9 is asking this kind of question. This section of Isaiah was probably recorded immediately after Israel’s captivity in Babylon ended. For almost 70 years, many of the people from Jerusalem lived in exile in Babylon. They built new homes and created new communities in the heart of the empire that defeated them. When the Persian empire destroy Babylon, the people of Jerusalem were invited to return home. Most decided to stay home in Babylon but some moved to Jerusalem, a city they never knew. The city was in rubble and God’s Temple was gone. Food was scarce. Conflict was everywhere. As the community started to rebuild, they lamented and prayed to God. They wanted to God to be God and cause the world to tremble.

I’ll admit that this image of God is a powerful one. Wouldn’t it be great to have this kind of experience of God? Imagine the heavens opening up and God landing in Northern New Jersey. The hills would quake and move. The Pascack Valley would rock and roll. God would show up and everyone would know God is here. A God who does this is a God who is easy to see, experience, and share with others. It’s a God who expresses strength and might. A God who shakes mountains is a God we want on our side because nothing on earth can compare.

And yet this is the first reading from scripture we hear this Advent season. We are in a period of waiting until Christmas, a story about God coming down, finally comes. But when God finally does come, the mountains do not quake like we expect. Instead, God enters the world as a baby named Jesus. The cries of this baby do not shake buildings. Instead, his cries bring his mother and father to his side. In Jesus, God chooses to live a human life, from birth to death and beyond, because that’s the awesome deed no one would reasonably expect.

As Christians, we are invited to lament like the prophet in Isaiah does here. God wants us to call God out, telling God to be a promise keeper. But we are also invited to open our eyes and see the ways God is already here. Sometimes the most powerful experience we need is a whisper of hope, a shoulder to cry on, a person who says they care about us, or a baby who spends his first night in a manger.

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for First Sunday of Advent, 12/3/2017.

Don’t Yawn: The Season Doesn’t Depend on Us

[Jesus said:] “But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from heaven,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.
“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

Mark 13:24-37

My sermon from First Sunday of Advent (December 3, 2017) on Matthew 25:31-46. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

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If you are giving out Christmas gifts this year, who on your list is the hardest person to shop for? For me, it’s my parents. They are terrible to shop for. They are one of the few people I know who, when you ask them what they want, will say “nothing” – and they mean it. They buy what they want when they want it; they like to plan and pay for their own adventures; and they are content with what they have. It’s so annoying. So over the last few years, I’ve resorted to sending them a photo book full of pictures of their grandkids. I go through all the pictures I took over the last year, relive all those memories we created, and put an entire year into book form. It’s sort of a fun thing to create. But making this kind of book is also a little terrifying because I want it to be perfect. I have this subconscious desire to give my parents a photo book that’s full of beautiful pictures. I want them to open the book up and instantly know what we were doing without me having to explain it. And if I’m honest, I also want to – sort of – show off just a tiny little bit. I want to humblebrag and overtly brag about just how fun, awesome, and well-adjusted my family is. And this is an odd thing to do because my parents know just how imperfect we are. They’re not asking me to brag or measure up but I feel like I need to anyways. There’s probably some kind of family dynamic at work here that I should unpack with a therapist at some point but there’s another issue here too. There’s something about this season, about these four weeks before Christmas when all of us, I think, try to chase after a picture perfect kind of Christmas. And even if we don’t think we do, the image of what a perfect Christmas looks like is all around us. Stores, tv ads, and every show on HGTV flashes hints about just how postcard perfect your holiday could be. I wonder if, even subconsciously, being around so much perfect ends up changing what we do. We start needing our Christmas tree and out decorations to be just right. We need to find that perfect present for everyone on our list. And we do all we can to look impeccable and festive at every holiday party we attend. We are in a season where being perfect isn’t only for kids trying to use their good behavior to convince Santa to bring them the toy they really really want. It’s also a season when all of us chase after perfection: the perfect home, the perfect meal, the perfect relationship, and a perfect, peaceful, and loving family. The weeks before Christmas is when we try to make an ideal a reality. That’s why I want my photo book for my parents to be all kinds of awesome. And why I want the last photo in that book to be a perfect family portrait with everyone, including the 3 year old, looking straight at the camera.

But you know what? That perfect picture has yet to come. And it’s sort of amazing how many different ways that picture fails to actually work out. The Christmas ideal, this picture or expectation we carry with us – rarely ever shows up – because we live in the real world. There’s never a holiday where there isn’t stress, or worry, or disagreement, or conflict. And even when the stars align and we are blessed to have a moment that meets our incredible expectations, that moment doesn’t last. The imperfect always comes back. And even though I think most of us know, deep down, that this season will not be perfect, we still get caught up chasing after our ideal. And that chase causes us to act as if this season, somehow, depends fully on us. If the tree lights go out or a turkey gets burned or if a heated conversation leads to conflict and anger around our dining room table – the more we chase after the ideal, the more we make Christmas depend on what do, what we say, and what we can afford. We make Christmas, in the end, depend on us. And a Christmas that depends on us, doesn’t really sound like Christmas at all.

Now, the next four weeks will not be as perfect as we want them to be. Our homes will not look like they belong on HGTV nor will every Christmas light on our pre-lit tree actually last all month long. And not everyone in our family will be looking at the camera. But that’s okay. Because this season, this Advent, this waiting for Christmas – isn’t a season that depends on us. It’s a season about a God who showed up, stuck around, and will come back soon even though we, as people, rarely live and love and serve the world as the ideal Christians God calls us to be.

Jesus, in this passage from Mark, makes a promise to us and to the entire world. He tells us to keep awake because we do not know when the master of the house will come; they might come in the evening, or at midnight, or at the cockcrow, or at dawn. Jesus, in these verses, seems to tell his friends to be ready for the moment when God will shake every mountain. But I think Jesus is really telling them to keep their eyes open because God is about to do something that doesn’t appear ideal. Jesus, in the chapters right after this passage, takes his first steps towards the Cross: a journey starts with a meal, in the evening, with his friends. And after this last supper, Jesus is betrayed and, in a moment of anguish and prayer, he finds his disciples asleep because it was the middle of the night. Jesus is then arrested and his trial begins. We listen and watch his disciple Peter deny him as the cock crows. And then, in the morning, Jesus is brought before the Roman Governor Pontius Pilate who then condemns him to death. In the words of David Lose, “the heavens shake and the sun is darkened … [at] precisely … the moment when [Jesus] is nailed to the cross and our breath is taken away as we see God’s love poured out for us and all the world.” We are not in a season asking us to reach some ideal. Rather, we are with a God who, regardless of the season, comes to us as we are because the imperfect, the vulnerable, the sick, lonely, poor, and hungry are worth a love that does not end. Will we still try to chase our ideal Christmas this year? Yes. But does that mean that Jesus will only show up if we get Christmas right? Not at all. Because the picture perfect love that God gives the world is a love that shows up in the form of a fussy and vulnerable little baby and is made real by a savior who, with arms outstretched, shows us what a picture perfect kind of love actually looks like.

Amen.

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