Sermon - Christmas 1, Year A

Matthew 2:13-23       

 

Exiled and Reclaimed

 

The Sunday after Easter is typically referred to as “low Sunday,” but the Sunday after Christmas also ranks pretty low on the attendance charts.  This is somewhat understandable.  As with Easter, the professional staff and volunteer choirs are worn out by all that has gone on in the previous weeks.  This is a popular Sunday for vacations.  So much energy went into the liturgies for Advent and Christmas that this week many congregations will simply gather and sing Christmas Carols – particularly if that congregation held the line and sang none during Advent.

 

The mood in the culture around us also plays into it.  I watch more TV these days than any other weeks of the year.  I am never quite sure whether the TV ads reflect the mood or set the mood.  Regardless, the ads have quickly shifted away from Christmas.  They are talking of “year-end sales events,” thus adding to a dis-jointed set of emotions when I come to Church and continue to sing Christmas Carols.  Doesn’t it even seem a bit odd to wish one another “Merry Christmas?”

 

And, if I manage to overcome all of the above and show up for worship on this, the 5^th day of Christmas, there aren’t “five golden rings” awaiting me, but this horrible story of King Herod slaughtering the innocent children of Bethlehem.  What’s with that?  It is almost as if we wanted to ruin your quaint little celebrations and cast a pall over your bright and cherry frame of mind.  Talk about being subjected to an emotional roller coaster! 

 

I would apologize  - and even attempt to change the readings for this day - if this were going to be a once-and-done experience.  But it won’t be.  We are now in Year A of the Lectionary Cycle.  Throughout the year to come we will be reading from the Gospel of Matthew.  And throughout Matthew’s story there will be a constant roller coaster ride, quickly moving from one extreme to the other.  Throughout Matthew’s presentation of the Jesus story, we will find that the route taken by God’s chosen one mimics a Ping-Pong pattern between being sent into exile and then being reclaimed.  The most wonderful things imaginable happen in Matthew’s story; so do the most unspeakable of horrors; and quite often they happen in close proximity to one another.

 

I was trying to estimate how many of you were here on Christmas Eve, to hear that sermon.  The Christmas Eve message was about “Coming home for Christmas.”  A sign with this invitation is still hanging in front of St. Andrew’s Catholic Parish.  On Christmas Eve, we spoke in a warm, fuzzy sort of way about “coming home.”  Today, when it is the few, the proud, the committed in attendance, we can be a bit freer to talk about why the Bible’s homecomings are such warm fuzzy experiences.  They are moving and powerful because they are most often positioned adjacent to a reminder of how often the followers of God are sent forth from their home – to the place where God has sent them.

 

The Christmas Eve Gospel is taken from Luke.  It is in Luke (and only in Luke) that we have the story of Mary and Joseph traveling from their home in Nazareth to Bethlehem.  I mention this not to draw sharp lines between Luke and Matthew, but as a way of acknowledging that while Luke has no visit of the Wise Men to upset Herod and thus force the flight to Egypt, there is in Luke this same roller coaster treatment of God’s chosen ones.  Mary celebrates what God is about to do in her life; God sends her far away from her home and into a stable for the birth of her child.

 

God does welcome us “home.”  And in God’s house we find a place and a people with whom we can experience the emotional good things we desire so deeply.  God beckons us; just before (or immediately after) God sends us out.

 

We spend most of our lives (and considerable amount of effort) avoiding those situations in which we are going to feel exiled or alienated or separated or threatened.  But it may be in the midst of those situations where God is the most active or the most present or the most prepared to direct our lives.

 

We are so protective of those warm fuzzy feelings that we do all we can to remain on the sunny side of life.  But may be in the shadows where God’s hand leads us.

 

I told myself a few months back that I was going to do a better job at referencing the Bible so you all would feel like it wasn’t a waste of energy to carry yours with you to worship – and I have gotten away from that.  If you do have yours with you this morning, look with me at the opening chapters of Matthew’s Gospel – specifically at the 11^th and 12^th verses of Chapter 1.

 

Zach Parris, LCM-C alum and campus pastor in Boulder, CO, turned me on to this “exile-homecoming” motif in Matthew.  He pointed out that the stage is set in the genealogy of Matthew, chapter 1.  Ignore all those names, most of which are only found in this genealogy.  What I want you to notice is that amid this long list of names there is but one historical event mentioned.  There, in verses 11 and 12, we have not one but two references to “the deportation to Babylon.”  The story of God’s people, taken from their homeland to a strange and alien place, is the only interruption of this seemingly endless list of names.  The “deportation to Babylon” comes after Israel reaches its greatest status.  The deportation is sandwiched between the establishment of the Temple in Jerusalem and the rebuilding of the same under the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah.

 

If you have your bibles and still have them open, look forward in the story a bit.  We stopped reading this morning at the end of Chapter 2.  In those closing verses, Jesus is safe and secure and settled in Nazareth.  But look at the next chapter.  Jesus will be ripped from this tranquil setting, caught up in the baptismal ministry of John, and then immediately led by the Spirit into the wilderness where the next forty days he will experience hunger and thirst and temptation. 

 

We too often associate the shadowy and dark and alien periods of our lives with God’s absence.  Might it be that these are the very experiences in which our following of God is the most urgent and the most likely to reveal to us God’s presence and power and promise?

 

I will not retract the warm fuzzy message of Christmas Eve – that God beckons us home and desires for us to be at ease and find our rest in His house.  But, I stand with Matthew in proclaiming a message of one who is not only reclaimed and called back - - - but also sent forth (even into exile) for the sake of God’s unfolding hope for humanity.

 

The Christmas story is God’s story.  It is God’s response and solution to the hatred and fear and evil which still results in the slaughter of innocence.  God’s response is never to flee or hide or ignore; God’s response is to go.  God goes, when God’s people are sent.

 

Thank you for braving the rain and the cold and the temptation to brew a cup of tea and sit before the Christmas tree for one more relaxing morning.  I am sorry that the Gospel reading was so frightful.  But know this – comfort comes not only by hearing of God’s work to shield us from all harm; it is also comforting to realize that God is active even in the dark and shadowy events of life.  Your reward for coming out on this “low Sunday” is the opportunity to be reminded that God’s faithful servants participate most clearly in God’s hope for the world when they share in this experience of going into exile, then being reclaimed.  Those experiences may separate us from the tinsel and flashing lights, but they do not separate us from God.

 

Amen.

 

Sermon - Christmas Eve

 Luke 2:1-20    

                                                         “Welcome Home” for Christmas 

For those of you who spend most of your time in larger cities, it may seem trivial to you when those of us with Clemson addresses complain about traffic.  But, sometimes, we do.  “Everything is relative,” right?  And some days you can sit forever waiting to turn left off N. Clemson Blvd and onto College Ave.  That is why I occasionally made a cut through the neighborhood behind us.  And, that is how I ended up coming to a complete stop in the middle of Edgewood Avenue, in front of the Parish House for St. Andrew’s Catholic Church.  They have a sign in the little grassy area alongside the street and parking lot.  The sign brought tears to my eyes; and (as you are about to discover) a whole host of thoughts to my mind. 

The sign contains a very simple thought.  It reads, “Come Home for Christmas.” 

I told myself I would pause at this point in order to gauge whether you were similarly moved by this simple phrase; or if you would be embarrassed for me, smile, and sympathetically nod your head.  Looks like the sympathetic nods are winning out. 

Okay.  Maybe you have to be in the right mood.  But think about it for a few moments, please. 

“Come Home for Christmas.”  

 

In this context, it isn’t a desperate plea from Mom and Dad, it is an invitation from God.

 

“Come Home for Christmas.” 

The phrase stuck with me.  I thought of it as I listened to the music being played at my “Country Christmas” Pandora station.  Particularly at night, in the evenings, as we were wrapping gifts, a huge number of the songs were about “coming home.”  And many of the songs were familiar.  I sometimes have difficulty remembering the words to the second verse of “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful,” but I sang right along without hesitation to Rascal Flatts’ rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”  Might the same be said for some of you? 

“Home.”  Being at home.  Going home.  This hope, this promise, this is the desire is just below the surface of practically every conversation had during this time of year.  There are few gifts considered as precious as the simple gift of “coming home.” 

 How many times have you all asked whether I would get “home” to see my ailing sister?  I did get up to see her this weekend, but that’s why I mention it here.  Rather, it is to point out that I have lived in Clemson longer than I ever lived in Vale.  So why, when you who also live here ask me if I will travel to North Carolina, why do you ask me if I am going to make it “home”? Isn’t this my “home”?  Isn’t this our shared “home”? 

“Come home for Christmas.”   

It isn’t the “place” which beckons us – it is something else.  It is the realization that all of us seek the opportunity to return to (or to go to) that place where the shoes come off and the collar is loosened and the hair comes down and we experience what it means to be loved and appreciated and accepted and cared for and protected and …. 

Am I beginning to help you identify the emotions which overcame me, sitting at the intersection of Sloan and Edgewood?  I hope so.   

And, it must be so – after all, whether you saw the sign or not, you responded to the invitation.   Here you sit, in this place, at “home” with all the rest of us. 

And I do hope you do feel at “home.”  Whether you are a regular attendee at the Sunday services offered in this place; whether you are an adult who came here with your parents when you were a child; whether you are a traveler, holed up in a hotel room or camper; whether you are a local who wanted to be at home tonight even if these buildings and their occupants have failed to make you feel at home during the previous fifty-two weeks; whatever your status before you came through those doors – you are at home now.  And the owner of this house is committed to making your homecoming all that you desire it to be. 

“Come Home for Christmas.”  The sign was not posted by the Chamber of Commerce in hopes of folks flocking this way and boosting our commercial revenue.  It wasn’t strewn across the goalposts at Death Valley asking folks to affirm that their blood does runeth orange.  “Come Home for Christmas” is the invitation extended by Christ and by His Church. 

I visited this morning with Gail Paul.  As is typically my practice with in-the-home worship services, I gave her a mini-version of what I thought I was going to preach this evening.  Then, what she said to me changed the direction of my thoughts.   

For those of you who don’t know Gail, she has been a member of this church for decades.  She was the Director of the Montessori School for many of those years, and a respected resource to the Montessori movement across the southeast.  When Frank died unexpectedly this past April, the advanced stage of Gail’s Alzheimer’s was a shock to her kids and to many of us.  Gail is now in the locked down unit at Clemson Downs. 

I started talking to Gail about the sign at St. Andrews, and I talked to her about all the messages which tell us that Christmas is a time to “Come home.”  Yet, we acknowledge, the Christmas story itself is about God’s servants who are anywhere BUT home.  The whole story begins when Mary and Joseph leave behind the creaturely comforts of home and head off to a strange land and an unfamiliar place.  Supposedly, Joseph has family ties to the “house and linage” of David, but none of those relatives in the City of David seem prepared to offer them a suitable place to sleep.  And no one appears to be with this young, frightened couple as they give birth to their first-born son. 

During this season of the year, we hear all sorts of messages about going “home.”  But Christmas occurs when God’s faithful ones travel far away from that which is familiar and predictable.  Christ comes – when they are far from “home.” 

Gail interrupted me (along with her memory she has lost her sense of good manners – just kidding), she interrupted me to say that this was as it should be.  “Home” she said is not one specific location.  “Home” she said, is “the place where we remember the people who are important to us and important in our lives.”  “Home,” is the place or places where significant relationships are formed and/or celebrated. 

And I realized that this is why I was crying at the stop sign of Edgewood and Sloan Street.  Some simple, cheap sign on the front lawn of the Roman Catholic Church was reminding me that what I wanted most this Christmas was the opportunity to continue to form deep, meaningful relationships.  What I want this holiday season is to shake away the hindrances which stand between me and those whom God has sent into my path.  What I desire, is the opportunity to come “home,” to the place where I can be me and they can be them and we can all be reminded and re-assured that we are accepted and loved and welcomed and strengthened and encouraged to live the joy filled lives of those to whom the angels proclaim – “Peace of Earth, and goodwill toward all.” 

It may not be that the most significant relationships in your life have been formed within this “home,” but it is certainly the desire of the owner of this house that this be such a place.  And the invitation, offered by this place, is to allow it to help us find the ability to be ourselves and to experience how okay it is to be who God has made us to be. 

“Welcome Home!” 

Stay as long as you would like! 

Enjoy! 

Know that you are always welcome!   

These are the assurances which rest in the manger in Bethlehem.  

 

Amen.

Devotion - Thursday, December 12

This will be the last e-devotion for the fall.  Exams end tomorrow, we didn't ask a student to write a devotion during this busy week; I will resume January 8.

As your prepare to head home, I send you forth with reflections from Revelation.  The Lectionary has me reading from the opening chapters.  As I read the letters to the seven churches in Asia, I am struck with the parallels to our community of faith.

Like the church in Ephesus, we know what it means to love.  But we sometimes forget or ignore.  We know that the grace of God means our actions are interpreted in the kindest of ways, but we fail to look upon the actions of others with the same attitude of forgiveness.  

Like the church in Smyrna, we are rich beyond compare.  So much has been given to us; so much has been shared with us.  You have the abundance of care and concern, expressed each week in the form of a home-cooked meal; you have the luxury of the LCM Lounge where you can study and socialize and escape the cold and damp.  But too often we look at what we don't have.  The tribulation is all we see.  Recall your wealth!

I encourage you to be like the church in Pergamum - hold to the faith and do not deny Christ!  You know what it means to be a child of God; think and act accordingly.

I will continue to read of the remaining churches in the days to come.  As I do, i will remember you, and pray that your living out of the faith will be as productive as was that of the seven churches in Revelation.  Remember that from them emerged all that has come to be known as the Christian world. I am sure that even greater things will come from the community of which you are a part.

Do be careful over break.  We look forward to being together again in January.

Devotion - Wednesday, December 11

I continue to read from Amos.  I am continually impressed with what Amos has to say.

Conversations at last night's Exam Meal lead me to think I might ought to offer a bit of an introduction to this book of the Bible.

Amos is in the section called the "Minor Prophets."  These books are short, their messages are rather simple, and we know less about them than we know about the major prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel).

As noted yesterday, Amos was not a professional prophet.  He did not come from a family history of prophets.  He was a day laborer, a common joe, one whom no one would have expected to become God's spokesperson.  This may be part of the reason why his prophetic words endure - they speak of the world and the world's separation from God's vision in terms which matter to the masses.

Amos' message is mostly about economic justice.  He speaks of God's displeasure when God sees that God's own chosen people "trample on the needy."  Read Amos 8.

This morning what struck me was Amos' reference to "a famine."  He warns "not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD."

In my prayers this morning I worried whether we might be in such a famine.  I wondered if our society has become like the one he experienced where "we make the ephah small and the sheckel great"? (i.e. pay workers a low wage and then jack up the price of what we are trying to sell.)

Amos suggests that such a society emerges when there is a famine of hearing the words of the Lord.

I invite you to join me in praying for an end to famines:  to the kind that cause physical deaths in sub-Sahara Africa and to the kinds which allow us to ignore the plight of the poor.

Devotion - Tuesday, December 10

A check came in the mail yesterday from the Lilly Foundation.  LCM-C was awarded a "Vocations Discernment Grant."  Over the next five years, we will have resources to encourage each of you to understand your chosen field of work, your chosen field of study, as your call from God.  God doesn't need (or want) a world inhabited by professional church types.  God created a world in which nurses and cooks and engineers and accountants all do their part to guide the world in the ways of God.  We serve God when we faithfully carry out our work as teacher or vet or forest resources manager.

This morning's appointed reading from Amos 7 is an illustration of this.  I love preaching on this text, in which Amos is told by the King to go to a different country to prophesy.  The King assumes that Amos is a professional - that he chose as a job the task of speaking publicly of God, and that he can do that in another place as readily as he can in this place.  

Amos replies, "I am no prophet, nor son of a prophet."  He is not doing this because it is his job; he is not doing this in order to put meat on the table.  He speaks of God because God has spoken to him.

God's clearest statements of what God hopes for the world come through those who speak out of conviction rather than out of professional necessity.  God's care of creation is shown in the sociologist who does her work with purpose and integrity; by the physicist who molds the shield needed in chemo treatments; by the architect whose design reflects the beauty of creation.

Keep this in mind as you study for exams.  You may think you are being asked to remember and regurgitate senseless pieces of information - but in God's eyes you are preparing for the service you will offer Him and to all of creation.  You may only be thinking of the grade or the degree, but God has an eye on the way that you will better prepared to do your part in the unfolding of the Kingdom which bears the name of God.

Devotion - Monday, December 9

I am excited about the plan arrived at by the Tuesday night Bible Study Group to focus our weekly gatherings on the lessons for the upcoming Sunday.  I think this will connect our week-day experience with our Sunday morning worship; it will also allow us time to explore all three of the appointed text - whereas most sermons only focus on one.

I wanted to give a bit of attention to the First lesson for this past Sunday - but I avoided the temptation.  It is a powerful text - speaking of Messiah as a  "shoot" that will spring froth from the "stump of Jesse".

Isaiah 11:1-10 is a gem.  Its opening verses provide the promises from which UniLu crafts our monthly service for baptismal anniversaries.  

Verses 6-8 were the content of the first sermon that I ever preached.

It was 4-H Sunday, my home congregation was without a pastor at the time.  The Interim Pastor met with me on three occasions to help me "write" a sermon.  The text on which I focused that sermon was;

The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid,

the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.

The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall like down together;

and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder's den.

It is a glorious vision of what life could be - should God do that which brings an end to hostility.  It is a beautiful statement of how those whom God have created might share this earth and its bounty.  It is a promise which has shaped every sermon I have preached since.

My faith in Christ allows me to set aside my worry about eternity.  My hope is that the bliss and harmony which eternity brings might start to be realized here, now, among us.  This was the promise of Isaiah, that the stump which breaks forth from the stump of Jesse would guide us in making such a world a reality.

Amen, Would that this be so.

Sermon - Advent 2

Second Sunday in Advent - Year A

Matthew 3:1-12

 

Confess Now - Hope for Forgiveness

 

 

The story of John the Baptist figures very heavily in the story of Jesus’ birth.  It is impossible to get through the Christmas story without mentioning this fiery country preacher.  In the four short weeks of Advent (the season in which we prepare for the birth of Jesus) two Sundays are given over to John.  This week we hear a short section of his preaching; next week we will learn of his attempts to determine whether or not Jesus is truly the Messiah.

 

John is very important in the story of Jesus’ birth.  He is the messenger who comes before Jesus in order to prepare his way.  He is the herald who announces that the Son of Man is coming.  He is the first act of the one-two punch which stirs the Judean countryside and causes alarm among the civil authorities.

 

And yet, there is something very different about the message of John and the message of Jesus.  They are interrelated, but they are not the same.  Jesus came to remove our sins.  John’s role was to make us aware of just how sinful we can be.

 

I want to be very careful, from the outset, to point out the reason for discussing this difference between John and Jesus.  It is important to note the difference so that we can dispel the false notions which would have us believe that we are left to wallow in our sin.  Too often, in our good southern churches, we have heard a continuation of the preaching of John the Baptist.  What we Christians ought to be hearing is the message of Jesus. 

 

John convicts us of our sin; Jesus proclaims our forgiveness. 

 

That is the prime reason for pointing out the differences.  Another reason is that the message of Jesus only makes sense after we have heard and understood what it is that John is trying to say to us.

 

When John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, the message he proclaimed was a call to repentance.  He came in order to help the people of Jerusalem and Judea realize the depth of their sin. 

 

The scriptures contain very little of his actual sermons, what we get are a smattering of phrases and comments.  But these are enough for us to realize that John's message was not a pleasant one.  He came with a word of warning, a word of judgment, a call to account­ability.  John, through his preaching, delivered a message, a notice, that Jerusalem and all of Judea must acknowl­edge their sin and returned to God.

 

The word that is used by John is "repent."  The baptism he offers is a “baptism of repentance”.  To repent is to turn around.  It is to go in the opposite direction from the direction our current course would take us.  To repent is to take matters into our own hands and do the right thing.  To repent is to change our actions and hope that this change in our lives will be sufficiently pleasing to God.

 

To repent is to do something about our sin.  It is a treatment for sin.  But it is not a cure. 

 

When they come to hear John, he encourages them to believe that if they make this confession - and - if they re-dedicate themselves to God then they may have reason to hope.  But he cannot offer guarantees.  He tells them to live a better life and then hope - hope that God will be merciful.  Repentance is confession.  But it is a confession without absolution; it an admission of guilt with no positive assurance that our sin has been forgiven.

 

This is what John came to do.  He came, to preside over a liturgy in which those who were remorseful for their sins would commit themselves to do better.  He called them to repentance.  Repentance is our action, our reaction to the realization of our sin.  Repentance amounts to confessing our sins and then leaving before any word of forgiveness is spoken.

 

There is only once, on the Christian Liturgical Calendar that we call for repentance without very quickly following that up with an announcement of forgiveness.  Only at the Ash Wednesday service do we confess our sins and leave without receiving any assurance of God’s forgiveness. 

 

It was always Ash Wednesday for those who came out to hear John.  He asked them to examine their sin.  He invited them to confess and promise to do better.  He does not – because he cannot - offer a word of absolu­tion.  John did not speak of forgiveness.  He only speaks a warning. 

 

This is what has changed - now that the story of John and Jesus is complete.  What has changed is that we are made fully aware of God’s desire to bridge the gap created by sin.  We have learned what God will do in order that we might have that assurance of forgiveness.   

 

Think, or look, back to The Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness with which we began this morning’s service.  You will see that the whole liturgy is predicated on the ending.  We begin this "confes­sion" with an acknowledgment of God's willingness to forgive and cleanse us.  We recite the acknowledgment of our sins with the foreknowledge that absolution will soon follow.  How willingly would we confess our sins if we were unsure of God's response?  If we did not KNOW that forgiveness is freely offered, would we so honestly speak of our fault, our own fault, our own most grievous fault?

 

Perhaps it is true, that before Jesus could come - John had to prepare the way.  Maybe it is essential that before the arrival of the one who forgives us of our sins, heals us of our wounds, and liberates us from our fear of death, before that one can come we must reconsider our life and see the need for a Messiah.  If we, like the Pharisees and Sadducees, see no need for God's Anointed One, why should he bother coming?

 

Our lives are busied, these days, with the buying of gifts and the preparations for celebrations.  We shop till we drop so that everyone will be impressed with our skill in selecting just the right gift.  We make sure to get the Christmas letter in the mail on time so that others might benefit from our wishes for well-being and happiness.  So much of what we do and think during this time of year focuses on our abundance and thus our ability to give to others.  We approach Christmas from a position of strength.  Seldom in this season do we stop to consider our weakness, our limitations.  And yet, unless there is something lacking in our lives what difference does it make if Jesus comes or not?

 

What has changed, since Jesus came, is that we are assured that the Messiah will satisfy our longings and heal our wounds.  What has remained the same is our need for a Savior, for someone who will prevent us from destroying ourselves.

 

I will not make the mistake of promising you that God is going to come and make everything right for you and your family.  There will continue to be hardship and disappointment even among God’s faithful followers.  But I do have the witness of scripture which tells me that it is God's intention to be the healer of our every ill.  The story makes it clear - God's grace comes to those who act on faith; those who offer them­selves to God. 

 

The call of John the Baptist was a call to repentance.  During this time of year, we are invited to look carefully and consider the paths we have taken for our­selves.  But it is important to remember that the true measure of our strength does not lie in our ability to do, but is discovered in our willingness to listen.                  

 

Amen.

 

Friday Devotion

Today's devotion is shared by Hannah Creech:

Hello fellow LCMers and friends!

Well, here we are on the cusp of exam week once again. I don’t know about you, but this is about the time when I start panicking and locking myself in a cubicle with obscenely large stacks of notecards for hours at a time.  It’s in times like these that I find comfort in knowing that, contrary to how I feel as I’m imprisoned in my study cell, I will survive the week and most likely won’t end up in a castle of cardboard, playing the banjo on the street for food. 

James 1:2-4 says:

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

This verse comforts me because it reminds me that many times the hardest things we go through are some of the things that ultimately make us the strongest we can be.  After all, people always say “what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.”  While it may seem like you won’t survive the next week or will fail all of your finals, just remember that you can do it and you will be better off at the end of it! So delay the ground breaking for your cardboard mansion and start preparing yourself for the coming week! But remember this helpful saying:

Exams may come and go, marks may come and go…

But once you go mad, you will be mad forever…

So be careful and study in limits!

Good Luck and have a great week!

Hannah

Devotion - Thursday, December 5

My morning readings continue in Matthew 21.  Nearing the end of his accounting, Matthew turns his attention to the mismanagement of those who are supposed to be looking out for His people.  The chief priests and religious leaders do not hold much credibility with Matthew.

Let me repeat what I said during last night's worship service - these were not evil persons; they did not intentionally set out to act contrary to the will and word of God.  Rather, over time, practices developed and they simply stepped into the role of how those before them had carried out the roles and tasks.  They made assumptions - that if this was the way it had been done in the past, that is the way it ought to be done now.

The word "church" is only found in the Gospel of Matthew - not in Mark, Luke, or John.  Matthew is concerned, about the structure necessary to carry out and carry forth the message of Jesus.  He realizes we must organize ourselves.  But he is very concerned that we don't allow the structures we set up to replace the message we are to proclaim.

I am a bit too over committed these days.  20 years in one place can translate into being asked to serve on committees and task forces.  My frustration is that a lot of those meetings/discussions are searches to find a way to convince folks to do what ought to come natural to those who are actively engaged in Christian living.  We meet and talk about ways to get folks to do something they obviously had rather not do!  Maybe, instead of meeting to find a way to get more folks to sign up for Wednesday night dish duty we ought to be open to asking whether Wednesday night dinners are the best way for us to proclaim the message of Jesus.

The chief priests and Pharisees had practices and ways of speaking of God to preserve.  They didn't mean to ignore the Word of God; they simply failed to ask whether they were doing God's will or keeping alive a system of their own making.  May we never be so blind as to fail to see our acts of service through the eyes of God; may we always be prepared to accept the critique and redirect our efforts.

Devotion - Wednesday, December 4

The Old Testament readings for this First Week of Advent are from Amos.  I like Amos; it speaks of following God in a way that settles nicely with my experience of God.  Amos places a strong emphasis on God's emphasis that the orphans and widows be cared for.

Reading this morning from the third chapter, I absently read a series of logical statements:  "Do two walk together, unless they have an appointment?  Does a lion roar in the forest, when he has no prey?  Does a bird fall in a snare to the earth when there is no trap for it?"

Then Amos gets to his point:  "Surely the Lord God does nothing, without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets."

God's vision of how the world ought to be is revealed to God's prophets.  God does not hide what it is that he prefers, what it is that he hopes we will do, how he prefers we live our lives.

Like many of the prophets, Amos was not unanimously embraced by his contemporaries.  Like most of the prophets, his words were considered suspect and his warnings were not joyfully embraced.  God's prophets stand more on the edges or even outside the center of the conventional wisdom circle.

During these days of Advent, it is good to reflect on God's preferred vision for our world.  During these days of Advent, it would be a good thing to ask about the "secrets" of God, being made known by God's appointed messengers.  During these days of Advent, we might begin by asking who those prophets are and if we spend any time listening to them.

Surely God is making his will known; the question is whether we are listening.

Tuesday Devotion

Today's offering is from Pastor Mark Cerniglia......

At this time of year we become very familiar with the nativity story of how Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem to give birth to Jesus there in a stable, surrounded by animals and shepherds, angels and wise men.  Indeed, the children at my church are already rehearsing their version of retelling that story again this Christmas.  But it's the sequel to that story that fascinates me.  

After being warned by the wise men visitors that King Herod was in a snit about the birth of the Messiah, Joseph puts everything together in a dream and comes up with a plan to slip away in the night with his family to keep them safe from harm.  Under the cover of darkness they slip out of town and travel to Egypt, looking for refuge there (Matthew 2:13-21).  

As the coordinator for the South Carolina Synod's companion relationship with the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Colombia, South America, I have visited communities of displaced persons who live in makeshift communities in the hills on the south side of Bogotá, the capital city.  These are persons who have had to leave everything behind and flee their homes because of threats of violence by either the guerrilla forces or the paramilitary forces associated with the government.  The people are caught in the middle.  Many of them have witnessed the murder of a member of their family.  Colombia has the second highest population of internally displaced persons in the world--over 10% of its total population.  Visiting their homes and hearing their stories always brings to my mind the Holy Family and its flight to Egypt to find refuge.  Their courage and faithfulness is a witness to me about trusting God even in the most difficult of circumstances.

~Pastor Mark Cerniglia, Lutheran Church of Our Saviour, Greenville, SC