Naming Our Gifts
Community: Living as Followers of Christ. This is the theme for our worship during the month of July as I begin my journey with the people of New Visions Community UMC. The Blog below is the written version of the second sermon in that series: "Naming Our Gifts"

“Once there was a rabbi named Zusya who loved God with all his heart and soul, and who treated all God’s creatures with respect and kindness. Rabbi Zusya studied Torah, kept Shabbat, visited the sick, and praised God for all the goodness in the world. Though he was not a rich man, Zusya gave generously to those in need. Students came from far and near, hoping to learn from this gentle and wise rabbi. Zusya often told his students, “Listen to the still, small voice inside you. Your neshamah will tell you how you must live and what you must do.”

Each day Rabbi Zusya”s students came to the House of Study, called the Bet Midrash, eager to learn what they could from him. One day, Zusya did not appear at the usual hour. His students waited all morning and through the afternoon. But Zusya did not come. By evening his students realized that something terrible must have happened. So they all rushed to Zusya’s house. The students knocked on the door. No one answered. They knocked more loudly and peered through the frost-covered windows. Finally, they heard a weak voice say, “Shalom aleichem, peace be with you. Come in.” The students entered Rabbi Zusya’s house. In the far corner of the room they saw the old rabbi lying huddled in bed, too ill to get up and greet them.

“Rabbi Zusya!” his students cried. “What has happened? How can we help you?”

“There is nothing you can do,” answered Zusya.  “I’m dying and I am very frightened.”

“Why are you afraid?” the youngest student asked. “Didn’t you teach us that all living things die?”

“Of course, every living thing must die some day,” said the Rabbi. The young student tried to comfort Rabbi Zusya saying, “Then why are you afraid? You have led such a good life. You have believed in God with a faith as strong as Abraham’s. and you have followed the
commandments as carefully as Moses.”

“Thank you. But this is not why I am afraid,” explained the rabbi. “For if God should ask me why I did not act like Abraham, I can say that I was not Abraham. And if God asks me why I did not act like Rebecca or Moses, I can also say that I was not Moses.” Then the rabbi said, “But if God should ask me to account for the times when I did not act like Zusya, what shall I say then?”

The students were silent, for they understood Zusya’s final lesson. To do your best is to be yourself, to hear and follow the still, small voice of God.” (From Partners with God by Gila Gevirtz)

 Christian teaching suggests that God sends each person into the world with a special message to deliver…a special song to sing for others…a special act of love to give. No one else can bring our message, sing our song, or offer our love. Only we can. We are taught—in the words of Paul which we read today that each of us has something of value to offer to the life in our world—something that can make this world a much better place.

At one time or another, most of us wish that we were like someone else. I wish that I could be as good at music as Keith…and Brenda. I wish that I could be as fine an artist as Susan Eddy Ledder. I wish that I could write books the way the Madeleine L’Engle or JRR Tolkien—and dozens of other writers can write. The truth is that I dabble in all of these endeavors; I sing—but don’t spend a lot of time in rehearsal and practice to sing better; I play with paints and pens and paper—but don’t commit to the time it takes to become really good as either an artist or a writer.

But in the midst of making excuses for why I am not as good as I would like to be, God calls me to do the work that is in front of me—being a pastor—and to do it in the way that Jamie would do it best—not doing it the way that Bill…or Judy…or Richard…or Ray…or any of the other pastors that you have had in your midst. God doesn’t want me to be Moses—or any of those other people either. God wants me to be the best Jamie that I can be.

All of us have certain abilities—gifts we have called them in our service today. Some of us are good at running a business, using a computer, baking pies, working with Seniors—or small children; some of us are great at offering hospitality, coaching sports, earning money, resolving conflicts, managing projects, cleaning up after others, and on and on. We need to acknowledge what we do well and invest whatever it is in God’s work of mending our broken world, even when we believe what we have to offer is insignificant. The good news is that God is able to use all of our gifts for the sake of the common good, and when we pool our resources, there will be enough—enough money, enough time, enough talent—and just the talent needed.

I can imagine you sitting there sifting through the things that you might think of as gifts…and I can hear you discarding them in your mind. I invite you to pause for a moment and pin down just two things you are good at. If you have a pen, write them down on your bulletin…pause…these don’t have to be monumental things…just things that you think you do particularly well…pause…and now I invite you to turn to a neighbor and share one of those gifts…pause…

When I have done this exercise with women on retreat, I ask them to tell me 10 things that they do well. I give them a ½ hour to think about it, and when I ask them to share their lists with me at the end of the time, very few can think of 10 things they will claim. Many only list one or two items, and some come back with a blank piece of paper. This happens sometimes with men, too, but men seem far more willing to claim the things that they do well. Still, most people in our society seem to struggle with claiming the things that they can do.

Author Robert Fulghum tells of visiting kids at various stages in their school life. He says that when he visits kindergartners and asks “Who can sing?” and “Who can draw?” every hand in the room shoots up and he sees examples of their excellent work. When he asks the same question of 4^th graders, the numbers of enthusiastic responses drop to about ½ of the class. Seniors in high school, maybe 1 in 10 will admit to either without qualification. When he shows up on a college campus and asks that question, even those who are majoring in art and music qualify their responses about whether they can make music or art.

Who are you? What are your gifts? When you come before God like Rabbi Zusya in our story, will you have been the most completely YOU that you can be?

As I was planning for today’s service, I came across a poem that is particularly pertinent. It doesn’t have a title, but the person writing it was thinking about Moses and wrote it in Moses’ voice. I invite you to listen—and hear your own dilemma:

The Lord said to me—Go

And I said—Who, me?

And God said—Yes, you!

But I answered:

     I feel really inadequate

     I don’t have the gifts

     I don’t know enough

And the Lord said—You’re stalling!

The Lord said—Go

And I answered:

     But what happens if I fail?

     I don’t have what it takes.

     What will others say?

     Send someone else!

And the Lord said—stop wriggling!

The Lord said—Go

And I said:

     But I am on my own

     Who will help me?

     It’s too scary

And the Lord said—Do you think I’ll be far away?

And the Lord said—Go

And I shrugged and said:

     Okay, Lord, have it your way

     Here I am

     Send me.

All of us have particular gifts that can be put to use for the work of God’s kingdom. We often just need the courage to step up and put our gifts to work in our community.

Last week, as we were having our “first cup of tea together,” we talked about a couple of the basics of Christian Community: Love God with all that you are and love others as you love yourself; seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. Today, as we “drink our second cup of tea,” we recognize that God knows us intimately, and that we all have different gifts which God can use in caring for the world. As New Visions Community, it is important for us to name the gifts that we can each bring to strengthen one another. In reality, each one of us is a gift to New Visions!

Just meeting on Sunday morning and worshiping together, it can be difficult to get to know one another’s gifts. This is particularly true if we are reluctant to actually claim the things that we do well. Fortunately, we are blessed with several ways of getting to know one another better, but particularly through our Cell Groups we can begin to help each other listen to how God is working in our lives.

As we go out into the world today, I invite you to think about the gifts you have been given—the ones that you had the courage to write and share today—and the ones you did not name. Let me remind you that God has something beautiful for you to do in this world—something that will take just your special touch—sharing that message, singing that song, and offering that act of love that will bring tremendous fulfillment. It will also enrich the lives of others and be a part of bringing about the kingdom of God in this time and place. I leave you with this question: How would you like to have God use you to make a creative difference in our world? May you be blessed as you live into the answer! Thanks be to God. Amen.

Proclaiming Our Values


Community: Living as Followers of Christ. This is the theme for our worship during the month of July as I begin my journey with the people of New Visions Community UMC. The Blog below is the written version of the first sermon in that series: "Proclaiming our Values."

I don’t know about you, but I find that a good cup of tea or coffee is a great way to begin a conversation between two (or more) people. I find this to be especially true if the conversation is going to be on a challenging topic—or if I don’t know the person particularly well. The cup of tea gives us a bit of comfort and familiarity—a bit like talking about the weather, or beginning a conversation with the phrase: “How about them Huskers?”!

So today we are going to begin with a metaphorical cup of tea as we begin our month-long conversation about what it means to live together in community, both as Christians and as Christians in conversation with people of other faiths. To begin our conversation today, I invite you to listen to a song by Amira Mortenson, "Three Cups of Tea” that can be found on YouTube .


Amira is the daughter of Greg Mortenson, the Founder and Director of the Central Asia Institute. He does humanitarian work in Pakistan and Afghanistan, where he builds schools in collaboration with local communities. His short mission statement is “Building peace one school at a time.” Amira has her own work to help out her father; she wrote and sang the song we just heard when she was in the fourth grade, she helped to write and produce a children’s book about her father’s work, and she goes on some of his speaking engagements because she is far more outgoing than her father!

Amira started her work when she was 5 or 6 by opening a lemonade stand and donating the money she earned to an organization called, “Pennies for Peace,” a program started by children in a Wisconsin school where Amira’s grandmother was the principal. 


When the students learned that a penny could buy a pencil in Afghanistan, they thought that raising money one penny at a time would be a good way to help out the peace project of building schools.

Greg Mortensen did not set out to help educate the world. He set out to climb K2, the second highest mountain in the world. He was doing this in memory of a younger sister who had died. Greg did not succeed in his attempt, and he almost died in the effort. He was found by villagers in Korphe Pakistan, and they took care of him for seven weeks. During his time there, he became fascinated by the children, who a couple of times a week, would meet together outside with a traveling teacher. The children used sticks to write answers to questions in the dirt. When Mortenson asked why there was no school, he was told that the village was too poor. In thanks and appreciation for the care he received, Mortenson vowed to return to Korphe and build a school.



This was not an easy or straight-forward task…and there were errors made along the way. In fact, some of you might be thinking about the trouble Mortenson has been in for not having audited books for his Institute. He would be the first to tell you that he works out of passion, and that he learns by doing; so, like many other entrepreneurs bookkeeping is not his strong suit. Business people are now working with him to sort through the issues raised by those who are concerned about these things, and Mortenson continues to build schools and work with local communities.



One of the first things that Mortenson learned in Pakistan is the phrase that is on the front of today’s bulletin. “The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you are an honored guest. The third time you become family.” Mortenson learned that he could get no work done in these countries until he would sit down and take tea with them. And, he made no progress until he learned to listen to the ways in which things were done in each village.



It isn’t just about having a cup of tea. It is not just a formal ritual. The purpose is to listen to what is important, to hear how things happen, to learn the wisdom of each place. That was a huge lesson for Mortenson to learn.

The first cup of tea that we share as strangers can often begin with a lot of assumptions. I know that some of you have heard stories about me—as I have about some of you. If we only listen to that kind of talk, our assumptions can lead us to make mistakes…particularly cultural errors. I will be coming to listen to your stories about who you are and your hopes and dreams for the New Visions Community.



And that is why I chose the three cups of tea image for our July sermon series. I am new here. We don’t know one another. I don’t know what you think is important—nor do you know what values I carry. We are going to take some time over this month to “drink tea” and listen to one another. Today, we share our “First cup of tea” and explore a little about one another.



When Bill asked me to come up with a theme for July worship, I thought about using the lectionary for a while. Most of my preaching life the lectionary has been the basis for my preaching. Using the lectionary often takes me to places I might not go in Scripture on my own; the lectionary keeps our church in conversation with other lectionary churches around the world. But when I thought about doing church differently, I thought that it might be more helpful to explore what I consider to be some of the texts that are the most formative for who I am as a disciple of Christ—what I mean when I tell people that I am a Christian. I hope that part of our conversation over this month will include passages that you find equally formative that I may not have included. To be fair—with only a month, we know that the conversation will just be beginning.



And just in case we think that the Holy Spirit might not have a sense of humor, I wanted to let you know that the Gospel lesson read for today was not the one I intended to have read. In fact, the 13^th chapter of Mark—sometimes called the “Little Apocalypse”—is one of my least favorite portions of Mark’s gospel, yet the text that Don read is the one I sent to Susan, Elizabeth, Brenda, and Bill! I had intended that we move directly to what I consider the heart of Jesus’ teachings in Mark’s gospel—Mark 12:28-31, 34:

“One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that Jesus answered them well, the scribe asked Jesus, ‘Which commandment is the first of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.’…When Jesus [heard that the scribe understood him] he said to him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’”

But the Holy Spirit seems to have wanted us to hear that we are to remain vigilant! (or maybe that word was particularly directed at me because my focus has been so much on the move from one home to another that the kingdom of God has been less in focus…hmm?)

Anyway…for me, today’s passages—when I add the 2^nd Gospel lesson about love of God and neighbor!—are the heart of what we are about as disciples of Christ. We sang it this morning as we sang: “For everyone born, a place at the table, for everyone born, clean water and bread, a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing, for everyone born, a star overhead…and God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy, compassion and peace. Yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice and joy.”



Greg Mortenson has lived out this teaching when he saw a need and learned how to respond to it; his daughter has learned how to do the same, bringing her own gifts to the table. While we can choose to support Mortenson’s work in Afghanistan and Pakistan—or not—we are called to do our own work in our various neighborhoods. Our vision statement proclaims that as “individuals and as a Community we focus on the needs of the world.” Because we have been transformed by the love of God in Christ, we believe in changing the world one life at a time. Let us begin by having a cup of tea together!

Pilgrimage

"Why go on a Pilgrimage?"

I have heard that question a number of times since we began planning a Celticas Spiritus trip late last Spring. So, I thought I would share some reflections about the nature of pilgrimages and why we took a group of pilgrim-tourists out wandering through South-eastern Nebraska, parts of Kansas, and even into Missouri--all to places where I had never been. It was a fun and informative journey with new friends, and a deepening relationship with others I already knew.

"Now, tell me again what you are doing...?" the deacon at St. Mary's Anglican Church asked as we came in before worship. "We are on a pilgimage...a kind of retreat," I tried; and someone else added "We are on a tour exploring places where Celtic people immigrated in the Midwest." Yes to all of these things.

We are a Christian people and for centuries, Christians have left the places where they lived and worshipped to travel with people we don't know (or don't know well) in order to get to know themselves better and to explore their relationship to God and others. Jesus practiced this wandering and teaching, traveling to a variety of places to meet with people in their everyday lives. As he did so, he was able to share with them about his understanding of God and how people should relate to God and to other people.

The Jews were also a wandering people. They had wandered in the desert for forty years, always being a people without a home. Through their history, they became both immigrants and captives in foreign countries. These experiences helped them to develop an understanding of the importance of hospitality--especially in the face of hostility toward immigrants. Our journey took us to places where immigrants to our own country also experienced both of these things. We were blessed only with amazing and generous hospitality wherever we traveled, and our companions were a congenial collection of people.

Across the Nebraska Conference we have been hearing the call of "The Church has left the building!" Our Celtic Pilgrimage gives a new meaning to that phrase, and has served as a reminder that God is present with us in all of our wanderings.  Pastor Larry quoted Susanna Wesley in his sermon this morning, praying her prayer: "Help me, Lord, to remember that religion is not to be confined to the church...nor exercised only in prayer and meditation, but that every where I am in Thy Presence." God wandered with us as we travelled 400 and some-odd miles, present in the formal blessings wrapped around the experience and the informal ones of friendship-making.

"Why go on a Pilgrimage?" To be blessed in amazing and unlooked for ways...and to return home transformed. The journey is a blessing!

More Than a Baby in a Manger

Last Sunday's sermon...

In the month leading up to Christmas, we hear the refrain “Remember the Reason for the Season.” Of course, when people say that, they are usually referring to is “Remember the birth of the baby Jesus.” In spite of all the hype for Christmas parties and presents, folks want to remind us that what we should be about is celebrating the birth of the Christ Child.

Many of us work hard to remember the birth of that child. We give meaningful and thoughtful gifts—like animals through Heifer, Int’l, or other gifts in honor of the work that is important to us. We take time to go to worship and hear the story that begins, “There were shepherds abiding in the field keeping watch over their flocks by night…” and singing the Christmas Carols that celebrate the birth of the Holy Child of Bethlehem. We watch our children in Christmas pageants and we “ooh” and “ah” over the youngest members of the church tell the story of Baby Jesus lying in a manger. We are transformed by the story…the music…the candles. The New Year comes…the Wise Men visit… The Baby Jesus is safely tucked away for another year as we put the nativity sets and Christmas lights back in their boxes, and we get on with our New Year Resolutions of spending less and exercising more.

But is that the purpose for why we celebrate Christmas and the birthdays of our children? Just so we can cross off one more celebration for the year? I don’t think so; we celebrate and mark the time so that we can see how far we have come on the journey to “becoming…;” becoming something more than what we were before. We don’t want our children to stay infants—not really; no matter how cute that 5 pound baby is, we want him to grow into a young man who is making his way in the world; we want that 7 pound baby girl to grow into the gifted young woman we pray she will be. We mark their height on the doorposts of our lives, cheer for them at sports events, and tell of their accomplishments in Christmas letters and on Facebook. We watch them learn and grow and we celebrate their life.

Epiphany and Ordinary Time are the seasons of the church year that help us to focus on the life and teachings of Jesus—a sort of paying attention to the time marked by the “-“ on a grave marker.  These seasons remind us that we need to spend as much energy focusing on the life and teachings of the man as we do on the birth of the baby and the death of the man. There isn’t as much celebration in this season, although there are moments of delight and joy. But these are more the seasons of hard work, a time to remember that the disciples of Jesus were called to not only follow Jesus around, but to do the work which he was doing.

I think this is a challenging season because the man is a whole lot harder to follow than the star of adventure that led to a baby in a manger. Jesus’ teachings often take us to places that we would really rather not find ourselves. When we follow Jesus after his baptism, we find ourselves among those who are poor…ill…persecuted…outcast.

Traditionally, we say that The Prophet Isaiah described Jesus’ life as what we have come to call “The Suffering Servant,” and we hear again that YHWH has called Jesus to serve the cause of right; leading Jesus by the hand, and watching over him. But it is not enough to just have one servant; God calls the people as well, and Isaiah says: “I have appointed you to be a covenant people, a light to the nations: to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison, and those who sit in darkness from the dungeon.”

We need to move from watching a baby being born to seeing the man he has grown into; we need to move from watching the man to following in his footsteps and growing into disciples that do the work that Jesus did. Our passages for today speak about the time in Jesus’ life when he was baptized and then stepped out into the world to serve God by caring for others. That is our call as well.

Megan McKenna, theologian and storyteller uses a story to teach this message. She relates a story that she heard in Alaska when she was teaching on the Gospel lesson for today. It is a great story that I wanted to share with you as well.

“Once upon a time there was a poor young Eskimo girl. She didn’t have enough to eat or clothes warm enough to keep the arctic cold away. One day a newspaper reporter came into the village where the little girl lived. He saw the girl’s poverty and decided to ask her a few questions. He asked her, “Do you believe in God?”

“Yes I do,” said the little girl.

“Do you believe God loves you?” asked the reporter.

Again, the girl said, “Yes, I do.”

“If you believe in God and believe that God loves you, then why do you think you don’t have enough food or enough warm clothes to wear?’

She answered: “I think God asked someone to bring me these things. But that someone said NO!”

We are given many opportunities to serve others. Sometimes the need might be met by something as simple as food, water, and shelter. Other times the need might be something as complicated as a changed system of government…an education…medicine or a surgical procedure. Yesterday I saw evidence of God’s healing hand through quilts and other things that you have made for one another; today we will continue the conversation on welcoming our neighbors. We have the opportunity to tell God a resounding “Yes!” as we serve.

Teresa of Avila, a 16^th century mystic, used poetry and phrased our call in this way:

 “Christ has no body now on earth but yours,

     no hands but yours,

     no feet but yours,

Yours are the eyes through which to look out

     Christ’s compassion to the world;

Yours are the feet with which he is to go about

     doing good;

Yours are the hands with which he is to bless

      [people]  now.”

Today we celebrate Human Relations Sunday, particularly to remember and honor Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. We remember him as an historic leader in the civil rights movement, but we remember him as more than that; we remember him as a person who followed in the footsteps of Christ.  As Michelle Obama states it: “he was a man who lived his entire life in service to others, speaking out against poverty, economic injustice, and violence wherever he saw suffering, he did what he could to help, no matter who it was that needed him or why they were in pain.” A quote on Facebook reminded me that Martin Luther King Jr. said: ‎"Life's most persistent and urgent question is: What are you doing for others?" 

We are God’s people in this time and place; God calls us to be about Christ’s work and help to usher in God’s Kingdome. We are grateful for the call and God’s sustaining presence. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Family Life

Happy 5th day of Christmas! Below is a copy of my sermon from Sunday, December 26th, Holy Family Sunday. Thanks for the requests to read it...

I know that the birth of a baby causes chaos in the life of everyone around the new family. This is particularly true of the parents, of course, who find that their sleep schedules…meal schedules…personal hygiene schedules are all now subject to the whims of an infant. I was reminded of that when I was reading a Facebook post from my sister—who gave birth to my nephew Benjamin a month ago Thursday. Janelle was recounting the wonderful successes of the people in the family: great test scores for one niece, a part in a musical for another niece, and a nice bit of home care done by my brother-in-law. My sister’s listed accomplishment for the same time period? “I make milk!” There is no question that this is an important accomplishment in the life of the family, but not something that people usually celebrate.

In Luke’s Gospel that we read on Christmas Eve, the story is that Mary and Joseph left Nazareth and traveled to Bethlehem, where Jesus was born, a star appeared, angels sang, and shepherds came; it is a lovely story of celebration and reflection. But there is nothing sentimental in Matthew’s “Christmas Story;” There is no travel prior to Jesus’ birth in the city of Bethlehem. Instead, Jesus’ birth is set in a turbulent time; tyrants see conspiracy at every turn and violently respond and families flee in the middle of the night. There are no angels that sing “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, goodwill.”

Whatever the realities of their traveling and living situation, I can imagine that Mary and Joseph may have been feeling that same sense of lack of selfhood as they cared for the infant Jesus in the days after his birth. While Mary’s days would have been busy with all of the usual tasks of feeding and keeping clean a newborn, Joseph might very well have been at loose ends, working in his workshop, keeping his hands busy while he thought about all that happened to him and this new family that had come about so quickly. Even so, after a couple of weeks, it is likely that a certain sense of normalcy would have settled upon them, as it does with most young families.

So this new message that came from the angel, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him," would have created a great deal of consternation. They had managed to settle in and Jesus was growing in the way of children…surely they wouldn’t need to flee for their lives…but the angel was insistent, and Joseph listened. He told Mary to gather the baby and anything she could carry; he loaded their good and faithful donkey, and set out before the sun could rise and lead those who would kill the child right to them.

So Joseph, Mary, and Jesus step into the world of the exile. They flee to Egypt, following in the steps of Israelites generations before. A different Joseph—also a dreamer—was sent as a slave and became a high ranking servant of the Egyptian Pharaoh. This Joseph walks in with wife and child, seeking asylum from the Egyptian people so that he can make a living there until another dream calls him home again. Matthew’s Gospel shows a provident God who uses dreams to lead a compassionate and trusting father out of danger, so that the child Jesus will grow to become the savior of his people and generations to come.

Egypt became the childhood home of Jesus-perhaps for as much as ten years. Even though we don’t have the stories of Jesus’ childhood, in the Gospel of Matthew, the story is that it was in a foreign land that Jesus learned his father’s skills; it was there that he heard the stories of his people. For him, Egypt would be both the land from which his people had to escape…and the land that offered them refuge, saving him from the wrath of his own king.

We know that we are shaped by our experiences. Jesus’ formative years were lived as a refugee and an immigrant. We don’t know how he and his family were treated in Egypt, but we do know that when the Israelites left Egypt before, it was with Pharaoh’s army on their heels. It seems likely that Jesus’ family might not have been welcomed with open arms, and in fact, might very well have been met with suspicion and fear. And, as many immigrants have experienced, they might have lived as outcasts the whole time they were in Egypt. Even when they returned “home,” the family moved to Nazareth rather than returning to Bethlehem; again there is some likelihood that the family lived on the edges of the community.

Jesus was born into a people who had a history of caring for the stranger, or the foreigner in their midst because that is what they had experienced time after time. The story of the stranger comes out of the Exodus.  In chapter 19 of Leviticus we are told: “You shall treat the alien who resides with you no differently than the natives born among you; have the same love for him as for yourself; for you too were once aliens in the Land of Egypt.” Israel’s very identity is that of the Immigrant as Foundress.  It is Ruth who says to Naomi:  whither thou goest I will go; your people shall be my people; your God will be my God.

In the genealogy of Christ in first chapter of Matthew’s Gospel there are four uppity women who are Strangers:  Ruth, an immigrant from Moab; Tamar, Judah’s daughter-in-law; Rahab, prostitute of Jericho; and Bathsheba, wife of Uriah the Hittite and an adulteress.  All of these women are depicted as foreign and/or disreputable to indicate the importance of disruption in the formation of Israel’s identity and the shaping of the Covenental tradition of both Jews and Christians.

In our own day and time we find ourselves in the midst of the debate about an appropriate immigration policy. One side of the debate can be symbolized by laws such as the one passed in Fremont; the other side of the debate can be symbolized by the proposed bill named “The Dream Act. In between these two examples are churches offering amnesty for undocumented immigrants and families being separated by deportation. Caught up in all of these actions are conversations about states’ rights, federal responsibility, and the role of compassion. There are no easy answers.

When I read today’s Gospel lesson, however, I begin to wonder how our current debate might be changed within our churches if the rumor were to arise that the Christ Child had been born somewhere south of the border. And even more so if the story were to include details about the family trying to keep this new child alive by any means possible—including entering this country without documentation—in order to escape the violence of the drug wars. Would such a story change how we responded to their plight—and if we are truly followers of this Christ Child—should we treat anyone’s child differently than we would treat him?

Jesus became the advocate for the poor and downtrodden of our world at least partially because his family experienced the necessity of fleeing to save his life. For us to cut ourselves off from the immigrant or the stranger is to cut ourselves off from the source of our own faith traditions—and from most of our own ancestors who immigrated to this country at some point in time. The Community Organizer, Ernesto Cortez, Jr. says:

“… our faith tradition calls us to reach out to the Stranger, to be able to befriend those who are other – not part of our tribe.  God is not just a noun, but a verb.  St. Thomas Aquinas taught that God is pure act.  And Nicholas Lash reminds us that there is no distinction between what God is and what God does.  The more we reflect God’s divinity in our actions, the more human we become.  If we are truly made in God’s image, then we are called to act – to welcome the stranger.”

This Christmas season we are reminded that Emmanuel—God-With-Us—came in the birth of this child. This incarnation allowed God to experience the ups and downs of our life…and in the process Christ learned a better way that can lead us into God’s kingdom.  May we experience his birth this year in a way that leads to our continued transformation…and to the coming of the reign of God.

Alleluia, Jesus is born! May our lives reflect the gift of his life. Amen.

Blessings of the season to all of you!

Living the Story

Happy 5th day of Christmas! For those of you who asked...my Christmas Eve sermon.

I imagine that since you are here at this time of night on Christmas Eve when there have been so many other opportunities to be present at worship prior to this, your Christmas doesn’t feel quite right without worship and candles and getting out of church just about midnight. I know that mine doesn’t; in fact, I think that I am still missing that from last Christmas Eve when we chose safety and canceled this service! So what is it about Christmas that makes us want to be out and about at an hour when most of us are happily at home?

I think I’ve heard it over and over again this Christmas season; it’s “the magic” of Christmas for which the advertising agency tells that we are seeking. It is in our TV ads, TV specials, and our Christmas cards. The good news of the Christmas season according to the media is that there will be Christmas magic that will bring about the resolution to all of our problems.

One of my favorite Christmas myths, one that plays particularly upon the “magic” hour of midnight is the one that says that all of creation is truly made one. In that instant, when the clock strikes midnight, all the differences between heaven, earth, peoples and animals, is lifted. In that precious time between the chiming of the first bell of midnight and the last, animals and people can speak with one another and enemies become friends. At the end of the ringing, the world returns to the world we recognize, but it is hoped that this brief taste of the reign of God will be enough to encourage us to continue to live out the love of Christ all the rest of the year.

As I was drifting in and out of sleep this past week trying to get over my cold, I saw an interview with a Jesuit priest who has written a book saying that not only has there been a war on Christmas—we have lost the war. He quoted several recent polls taken in America that asked people what the most important thing was about Christmas. 48% of those who responded said that the most important thing about Christmas was family and being together; 37% said that the birth of Jesus was the most important thing. Apparently, while we have been busy looking for the “magic” of Christmas, we have missed the meaning in the birth of this child.

One of our wise children this Christmas asked why we kept talking about the birth of baby Jesus when everyone knew that he had already been born, lived a meaningful life, was crucified and raised from the dead. With all of that in his résumé, why did we spend so much time talking about his birth? That question has rattled around in my mind for the last couple of weeks as we have spent time preparing for the birth of a child a couple of thousands of years ago. Out of the mouths of children!

It is a theological question that we struggle with from time to time. Over the last 20 years or so, we have heard that someone is stealing the meaning of Christmas, but the church has been worried about this before. Christmas was not celebrated in the Early Christian Church until the Roman Empire was converted and named the Christmas celebration to help people move away from the Saturnalia, the ancient mid-winter celebration of the Roman gods. Christmas celebrations had become so boisterous, with so much attention on food and wine, that they were outlawed in England for 22 years during the mid-1600s; and the Puritans of Boston also did not allow for any practice of “The Christmas Spirit” during the early years. Historians say that it was the middle of the 1800s when this country began to practice Christmas in a way that we now say we long for—a quiet day that is family centered.

Yet even in this practice of Christmas, where do we find Jesus? Where do we find the mystery and awe that belong in this season for Christians, without the puritanical measures that would not allow for lights and happy songs? What is “the Spirit of Christmas” that we are told Scrooge—after his Christmas Eve scare and repentance—kept better than any man alive?

Mary’s song, the Magnificat that we have repeated each week during Advent, proclaims that her son will come to bring about a new world…a new creation that is even more wonderful than the first creation of Adam and Eve. This time, God’s reign will be made manifest in the way in which we live our lives. The poor will be lifted up…not walked over; there will be food to feed the hungry, and an equality will come about. This is the Christmas proclamation—Jesus the baby born this night so many years ago will grow up and show us how to live in God’s kingdom of justice and peace.

But we have missed the message. Over and over again, we miss it. Every year Christmas comes again and we celebrate the Prince of Peace while we wage war. We don’t understand why our celebrations seem to leave us feeling a little empty inside…even when we have the “perfect” Christmas planned.

In Charlie Brown's Christmas Special, that classic TV program of my childhood, Charlie Brown yells out in frustration: "Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?" "Sure," replies Linus. "I can tell you."

Linus then relates the story of the birth of Jesus as told in the Gospel of Luke that we read tonight. The birth of Mary's child is announced by an angel who tells shepherds living in the field:

'Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace...(Luke 2 NRSV).

What happened on the day Jesus was born? God broke through into the world again - but this time not with the force of the Big Bang or some other cosmic event - no, this time it was something even more powerful: the miracle of the birth of a child filled promise and hope. Both that miracle and the message that this child (born homeless and poor) brings (again and again) is what Christmas is about.

Do not be afraid," says the angel. Those born in the time of Jesus also knew about war and hunger and social divisions. Jesus offered a vision a time when all that would end...a time when "the wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together..." (Isaiah 11:6 NRSV)...a time when all humanity would live in divine harmony with all creation, as it was meant to be in the beginning.

I believe that even in the midst of war, deep global poverty and environmental chaos caused by humanity the message of the Prince of Peace is as relevant today as it was over 2,000 years ago. "War is over, if you want it," is the refrain to John Lennon's holiday song. The singer was right. So are poverty, hunger and division. We just have to accept the gift given to us by God on the first Christmas when Mary gave birth to the hope of the world and abide by Jesus' message of extravagant love and radical justice. We no longer have to be afraid. Our salvation has been here all along. There is cause to pick up a hymnal and sing "Joy to the World" after all.

Merry Christmas.

Brrr. Baby, it's cold....

I'm sitting in my office with my hands wrapped around a hot cup of chai. In order to have this "cuppa," I had to go out of my 68 degree office and down the much cooler (Tom says mid-50s) hallway; I then stood in the cold kitchenette (also 55 degrees) for 2 1/2 minutes while the microwave heated my water to the appropriate temperature. Gratefully, I warmed my hands and walked back to my office. There is little question that First Church has a warm heart, but the hallways are cold!

The minor challenge of negotiating from warm rooms through cold corridors served as a reminder to me that I am very blessed. There are far too many in our world who don't have any, or at least adequate, protection from the weather. They live their lives in boxes and tunnels, trying to scrape by and make do with what can be found discarded by those of us who have too much.

My "too much" is all around me; books stacked in bags and piles, looking like I have just come from the store. The reality is that the bags are part of my "filing system" so that I can find the books I am looking for at any given moment. But there are also boxes of books at my house that I have not unpacked from my last move into a smaller home.

Most of the time I can overlook the boxes and bags, but last week our daughter Joy brought back much of the furniture with which we had furnished her apartment. She was downsizing, moving from a one-bedroom apartment to an efficiency, and she said that she had discovered that she had "too much stuff!" Back came my grandmother's dining room table, three chairs, a bookcase, a bed ("You will need the bed!" I said; "No, I'll be sleeping on the floor" Korean-style), odds and ends of dishes and foodstuffs. The garage is once again full...not that it had been empty prior to the arrival of the bits and pieces of her life, coming to mingle with us again; Joy is not back home, but many of the things associated with her are.

It is easy for us to accumulate things that we don't really need. Some people are better than others at divesting themselves of the excess; John and I both tend to hang on to things (and people), never knowing when they might be necessary once again. Advent is a season when thoughtful Christians tend to reflect on the state of our souls as we are awaiting the birth of the Christ Child once again.

Jesus' birth  is told as a story of a child whose family just barely had enough. We don't know how true that is, but we claim his birth as the birth of a child born to parents who are scraping by. Jesus, born in a manger, is born in a town where his parents apparently have no near family, and shortly after his birth they flee for their lives and raise the boy as an exile in Egypt.

Wandering parents...life lived in exile...no wonder Jesus claimed that he had no place to call "home!" And without a home, no way to collect a library...a closet full of clothes...china cabinets...and.... Joy brought back many of the things that we had given her (and some that she had collected on her own) and declared that she "never wanted to have so much stuff again!" We looked at her box of Christmas things, carefully packed and labled "Danger," and smiled. Now where will we keep this box?

My cup is empty, but my heart is full. Advent is here and the weather reminds me to think of others. A friend is collecting sleeping bags to pass out to the homeless in Denver CO on Christmas Day; a local friend, Beatty Brasch has ways of helping the poor (especially the working poor) here in Lincoln. I have been blessed by so much. It is time to find ways to share with others...anybody need a table?