A Broken World, A Dream Born

 Matthew 2:13-23

December 28, 2014

                                                                 Mark S. Bollwinkel

 

            One of the most significant verses of scripture in the Bible is its shortest; “Jesus wept” (John 11:35).   It is one of my favorite texts on which to preach in the face of death and grief at a memorial service.

            When Jesus learns of his best friend’s death, and against his disciples’ warnings, he insists that he must return to Bethany to be at the funeral.  On the way he encounters Lazarus’ sister Martha, convinced that if Jesus had been there Lazarus would not have died.  Jesus is using these events as a sign of his divinity.  He says those powerful, comforting and promising words to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me though they die yet shall they live, and those who live and believe in me shall never die.” (John 11:25-27)

            When he arrives at the burial site and is joined by Mary, his other friend and sister to Lazarus and Martha, the village has gathered to mourn his passing.  It is there as Jesus joins them and cries tears of grief.

            Why?

Lazarus will be resurrected from death.  He will leave the tomb as a sign of God’s presence in the life and ministry of Jesus. (John 11: 43-44)   These events will lead to Jesus own crucifixion and resurrection (John 11:45-57).  As the son of God surely he knows how the story is going to end.   Why would he weep?

Unless of course that God so completely shares life with us that he can do no other.  Jesus will work as a carpenter, will eat and laugh and walk with friends.  He will know what death is all about and he will know what it is like to lose his best friend.  So Jesus weeps.  God weeps with us in our grieving.  He is found in the depths of the human experience.

We hear that again in our gospel lesson from Matthew.

            We preachers try to avoid it as much as we can. 

            Our Christmas story and liturgical season ends with an astonishing scene.  No sooner have the Magi left the manger at Bethlehem than Joseph and Mary become political refugees and immigrants.    They flee to Egypt to escape the violence of King Herod who will murder all of the male children in and around the town so to eliminate any potential threat to his power.

            We would much rather end our Christmas season on Epiphany with stories of the wise men with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  But the Bible confronts us with the reality of the world into which God enters as the Christ child. 

Although our technology is advanced, are we really so very different from that ancient world?   Too many innocent children are still murdered by tyrants.    It remains a world where people are displaced due to the politics of violence and poverty. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimates a record number of displaced persons now reaching 15 million people around the world (UNHCR.org, 12/21/14).  The Immigration and Nationalization Service of the US Government estimates that there are 12 million people in our country without proper documentation. (INS.gov).

The Bible actually has a lot to say about how we are to treat refugees and immigrants; "The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as the natives among you and you shall love them as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Leviticus 19:33-34)   

            Abraham was a “stranger” among the Hittites at Hebron (Gen. 23:4) as was Moses in Midian (Exodus 2:22), the Israelites in Egypt (Deut. 23:7) and Ruth the Moabite, daughter-in-law to Naomi who married the righteous Boaz and was grandmother to King David and 14 generations later to Jesus of Nazareth (Ruth 1:1-f); the baby whose birth we celebrate during Christmas becomes a political refugee himself and immigrant almost as soon as he is born.

In the New Testament, this Jesus tells us to welcome the “stranger” (Matthew 25:35), for "what you do to the least of my brethren, you do unto me”. (Matthew 25:40)

The United States of America has a long history of welcoming those oppressed to our country and has benefited greatly as a result.

John Muir was one of eight children born to Daniel and Ann in Dunbar, Scotland.  The family immigrated to Wisconsin in 1848 due to poverty and his father’s piety.  John Muir settled in California in 1868 where shortly thereafter he discovered Yosemite Valley’s beauty.  Muir would become one of the founders of our National Park system as a result of his passion for creation.

Madeline Albright was born in Czechoslovakia in 1937 to Josef and Anna Korbel.  They came to the United States in 1948 as refugees from growing Soviet communism.  She would become the first women Secretary of State and highest ranking female officer in our government in 1997.

Jonas Salk was born to Dora and Daniel in New York City in 1914.  His parents came to America as immigrants fleeing the persecution of Jewish people of Russia.  Dr. Salk would discover the vaccine for polio in 1952. He died at the age of 80 working on a vaccine for HIV/AIDS.

  Since 1975 alone the United States has resettled over 2.6 million refugees in our country, 77% from Indochina (USDHHS: Office of Refugee Resettlement).   Religious organizations, including the United Methodist Committee on Relief have been instrumental in this effort here and all over the world.

How we treat each other is how we treat God.  That is especially true for how we treat the least and most vulnerable in our society.  It is no coincidence that the one who teaches us that is the carpenter from Galilee who was born in a stable and himself became a political refugee and immigrant no sooner than he was born.

Our tradition does not suggest a Divinity that is distant and abstract from history but just the opposite, a God who shares our life, our future and our suffering with us.  A God who weeps when we weep.  A God who knows what betrayal and love are all about.  A God who lives and dies just as each one of us will.   That is what the Christmas narratives are really all about and why we celebrate the savior’s birth.

            For me Christmas began when my grandparents arrived.  Whether it was Indiana, New Jersey or California....all states in which I grew up as a kid.....and whether I was five or fifteen.....the arrival of Elmer and Loretta marked the real beginning of Christmas.

It wasn't the presents they brought with them.  Grandma and Grandpa had lived a modest life.  My grandfather sold hardware in New York City.  They lived in a rented apartment across the river in Northern New Jersey.  They weren't poor.  But it wasn't the things they brought with them that got us excited.

My Grandmother Loretta was a reserved woman, quite proper.  When my brother Paul and I would get into a fight yelling "shut up" at each other, she would correct our manners saying "...don't say 'shut up' say 'be quiet'"    She was not a 'sit in the lap and cuddle' kind of grandmother.   Paul and I would take turns dipping a tea bag into her cup of tea.   That was how we shared affection for Grandma Loretta.

My Grandfather Elmer was the boisterous, extraverted energy of the family at the holidays.   He was hearing impaired and had one false eye due to injuries from World War I.   He was full of jokes and stories about his life.   He was the kind of person that could sit down at a bus stop full of strangers and leave five minutes later with a friend (kind of like my beloved Bonnie!).   Grandpa would play games, check out our toys and really pay attention to us kids.  

What I remember most about their holiday stays with us was the laughter.   My Mom and Dad loved them dearly and so enjoyed their company.  Meal time was the sharing of good and special foods and laughter, lots of laughter.

As I look back I can’t remember many of the presents I received as a child over the years but I will never forget my grandparents at Christmas time.

Both were second generation immigrants from Germany.  Claus Elmer Bollwinkel at the age of 14 was given the choice to stay in prison or immigrate to the United States.  We have a copy of the prison ship’s manifest from Dresden that landed him in New York in 1857.

His grandson Elmer Jr., my grandfather, would serve in an American uniform in World War I.

This fourth generation immigrant thanks God for the decision of my great-great-grandfather to immigrate to this country.  I thank God for the faithful life his family lived and the joy they brought to me and mine at Christmas time.

 It’s not what’s under the tree that makes Christmas morning. 

It’s the love shared around it that makes all the difference.

Now that Santa has gone back to the North Pole, we can remember that Jesus was born a political refugee having to flee his home to the temporary safety of another country.   God’s love is born to us in the darkest time of year and in the most desperate of situations. 

In the end, that is the good news we are called to share.  We worship the one God who completely shares life with us, even weeps with us.  We who are each strangers in a strange land.   

 

Amen.

Christmas Morning

Luke 2:1-20

December 24, 2014, Christmas Eve Candlelight Services

Mark S. Bollwinkel

Remember what it is like to be a kid so excited about Christmas morning that you couldn’t sleep; you’d wake up at 4:00am, counting the minutes until you could wake up your parents.

Remember how there was always one present under the tree that would take your breath away.

For many of us such memories are dim now.   We might dig up a moment of nostalgia watching an old movie rerun on TV or going over old photos.   Maybe we have the privilege of watching a child or grandchild intoxicated with the season.  Sure, we appreciate the story and the traditions.  But for many of us the disappointments of life have dimmed the possibilities.  

The ideals of the Christmas promise and the realities of our world are in open conflict.   Our hopes and fears seem more apart than ever.   The headlines don’t help.

I must confess, and it may seem odd coming from a preacher, but I struggle to get into the Christmas spirit. 

And then comes the music.  For me this year it began with what is turning out to be the most popular music of the year.  Listen to the five person acapella group Pentatonix’s “Mary did you know”…..[can be seen on YouTube.com]

I am sure a composer could tell us a lot about the key and tempo in which this music is sung, how the singers blend their voices, the technicalities of the recording but that won’t explain the impact music has on us.

I am sure a poet could explain the philosophy of the lyric and its history in the Christian tradition but the words on the page won’t begin to explain what happens when we listen to this song.

The impact of music has a lot to do with the heart that receives it.  There is “something more than” at work in the power of music to evoke the deepest meaning.

One of the profound places where I re-connect with that "under-the-Christmas-tree-joy" is in my life as a potter.  Surprisingly it helps me connect with unexpected joy in the other places of my life as well.

I have been an active potter longer than I have been an ordained clergy.  I took "Pottery 101" in my fall semester of my freshman year at the University of the Pacific 44 years ago.  Along with all the football players, I was looking for four easy units.  Much to my surprise I found one of the loves of my life.  During my four years at UOP I ended up as one of the teaching assistants in the department.  

Dick Mackey was also one of the assistants.  Our on-going friendship has evolved into an artistic collaboration at the studio he has built on his family's cattle ranch in Northern California, where I go as much as my "day-job" allows me.  Along with a fully equipped ceramic studio we have a variety of kilns which we fire.

Cracking the door of a ceramic kiln is a moment of high expectation, anxiety and joy. 

A potter works for days, if not months, to form and glaze the work that will fill a kiln.  Learning how to do such a process can take a lifetime or the rookie frenzy of a "Pottery 101" class.  Novice or master, for the potter opening a kiln...gas, electric or wood for that matter, big or small...is a moment of transcendent surprise.

Now one would expect such romantic projections from a 44 year pastor-potter.  I tend to find the "spiritual" in just about anything and unapologetically confess that I am looking for it.  With that kind of presupposition any conclusion of mine is biased.  Yet upon opening "The Flying Z" wood burning Tamba kiln at the Canyon Creek Pottery in Northern California I always sense "something more than..."

A chemical engineer could deconstruct the chemical interaction of the clay and glaze properties as they interacted with heat and time that results in 'such-and-such' effect on a piece...or not.  But none of that information...knowledge..."truth"... really begins to express what one sees as they open the door of a kiln for the first time.

There is "something more than" at work.  There is a transformation in the fire that goes beyond mere logic, although its science has directly contributed to the process from the start.  All of the varying inputs made to that moment, or to one single piece of pottery, can't explain the transcendent creativity of the fire.  Numbers and formulas don't describe beauty.

 

The modern mind has reduced truth to what we can measure and weigh.   What we can reproduce in controlled conditions.  As important as the scientific method is there is "something more than" at work.   That's true of an art process, a relationship, one's sense of self, music and even pottery.   Reducing life to the evolution of the chemical/biological interactions of self-conscious beings may be completely accurate but it doesn't begin to define the moments of our living.  There is "something more than" at work.

One can dismiss such a conclusion as the self-justification of a theologian.  But the next time you stand in awe of a sunset, the helping hand of a friend or the Bethlehem manger scene take a breath and suspend that logic that seeks to limit such moments to what you and I can understand.

And. Be. With.

Our firing crew uses the affectionate term for the moment of cracking a kiln door as "Christmas Morning"; as like the joy and excitement as a child rushing to open Christmas presents under the tree in the warmth and affection of a family. 

 Whether you understand the Christmas story of the Bible as history or metaphor or a combination of both, the Bethlehem manger describes the possibility of finding redemption in the most surprising of places.  It talks about a divine spirit that pursues us no matter what.  It talks about light born in the darkness.  Cultivating an appreciation for that makes life richer indeed.

Whatever ideal you may hold for the surprise of transformation, for the unexpected discovery of "something more than" at work in your life, may your moments of "under-the-Christmas-tree-joy" be many and full.   For like the Magi and the Shepherds in our Christmas story, there is love and light to be found there.

Amen.

The Father of Jesus

 

Luke 1:26-38

(Matthew 1:18-25)

December 21, 2014

 

Mark S. Bollwinkel

 

            In our scripture lesson this morning, a part of the wonderful Christmas story, we hear about Mary’s courage and dedication.  We hear about Elizabeth’s joy.  But what about Joseph?  The father of Jesus is only mentioned in passing.

            It was very important for the gospel writers to point to the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies that the Messiah would come from the “house of David” in order to prove Jesus’ divinity.  Both Matthew (1:1-17) and Luke (3:23-28) include long genealogies to show Jesus’ lineage back to the greatest king of Israel’s history.  For most Hebrews in first century Palestine, King David was their image of what a Messiah was supposed to be; a great warrior, devoted to the prosperity of the nation and sanctity of the Temple in Jerusalem.  Joseph is of the “house of David”.

            But Jesus is born divine and of a virgin.  Modern logic might find contradiction in a text that argues that Jesus had human and heavenly fathers at the same time but the gospel writers and listeners didn’t.  Such drama was very common in the religious heritage of the Ancient Near East.

            When Joseph is listed in Luke’s genealogy the writer puts in parentheses, “Jesus…the son (as was supposed) of Joseph” (3:23).  Jesus is the Son of God after all, and Joseph is but a bystander.

            Luke will mention him only once more when the hometown crowd at Nazareth tries to throw Jesus off a cliff, rejecting his message.  They scorn Jesus saying, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” (4:22)

            The gospel of Mark doesn’t mention Joseph at all.  In all of his preaching neither does the apostle Paul.  The gospel writer John cites his name only twice.

            So what is Joseph doing there in our crèches scene, really!?

            Matthew gives the best description of the man;

 

“Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way.   When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit; and her husband Joseph being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.  But as he considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; his name is Jesus, for we will save his people from their sins’…when Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took his wife but knew her not until she had borne a son; and he called his name Jesus.”  (1:18-25)

 

            Joseph was a just man, a righteous man.  The original term suggests that the community recognized such a person as some one who always did things right by his faith and by his neighbors.

            Boris Trajkovski (1956-2004) was a righteous man.  You may not be familiar with the name of the former President of Macedonia, one of the states of former Yugoslavia, just north of Greece and south of Kosovo. (We heard a witness of faith from our UM Missionary there, Carol Partridge, last week…)

            President Trajkovski was a United Methodist.  At his acceptance speech in November 1999, he quoted the prophet Micah from the Old Testament, “And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and love mercy and walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:6).  His audience was shocked.  Macedonian politicians don’t quote scripture. Few know any scripture to quote.  This was a former Communist state after all.  The vast majority of its people, if religious, belong to the Orthodox Church or are Muslim. 

It wasn’t long ago that Protestant churches were regarded with suspicion and hatred.  Protestant churches were burned.   Protestant missionaries were harassed.  In the years of Marshall Tito there were incidents of imprisonment of Protestant pastors and the confiscation of church property.

During the first free election in this foundling democracy, Trajkovski’s opponents said, “If a Protestant becomes President, we will all be forced to become Protestants!”  Cherry bombs were thrown at United Methodist churches.  “Don’t vote for the heretic!” was painted on church walls.

But still the candidate ended all of his speeches with, “God bless Macedonia!”

Boris Trajkovski grew up in a church where every Sunday the children stand at the front of the sanctuary at the end of the service to recite together a verse of Scripture.  As an adult he became a United Methodist Lay speaker.  He taught the Bible in Sunday School.   Although a part of an extreme minority in his country, he did not hide his faith as he has sought to serve his people.

President Trajkovski won the 1999 election with a healthy majority of votes.  Macedonians were not forced to convert to Methodism.  Before his tragic death in a plane crash on February 26, 2004 he was urgently trying to build bridges between all of the communities in his nation as they struggled with terrible poverty and the aftermath of the NATO bombing of Kosovo to the North. 

President Trajkovski was elected because the people could see in his character and faith a future for Macedonia.  That is what “righteousness” means.   People, like Joseph father of Jesus, who do the right thing even when the odds are against them are righteous indeed.

           

            Joseph was a compassionate man. 

In his society it was a disgrace for one’s betrothed to be pregnant before the official marriage was consummated.  He had every right to divorce Mary without any questions asked, but he was “unwilling to put her to shame”. 

            Remember the story of the reluctant Inn Keeper?  It happened at a church Christmas pageant one year.  Susanna had been picked as the Inn Keeper.  She had one line, “Go away, there is no room in the Inn”, which she was to deliver to Joseph and Mary as they came into the Bethlehem scene on their donkey of cardboard.  No matter how many times they practiced the scene, Susanna just couldn’t say her line.  The idea of turning away the parents of the baby Jesus was just impossible, inconceivable, for this very bright nine year old.

            One rehearsal, to the frustration of the exasperated director, she blurted out, “Go away, there is no room in the Inn…but wait, we just got a cancellation!”  Another time it was, “Go away, there is no room in the Inn…have you tried the Motel 6 down the road”.

            The Director and the parents tried to explain that this was only a church play, and that her line was an essential part of the drama and after all it came from the Bible and if she didn’t get right they would have to find another Inn Keeper.

            Susanna relented.  She assured all the adults that she would do her part.

When the big night came, all in the production were on pins and needles as to what Susanna would say.

            The lights were dimmed and the crowd was hushed.  She looked perfect in the bathrobe and turban as the Joseph and Mary came into the scene on their donkey.  They got their lines straight as can be.  Susanna said with clear conviction her all important line, “Go Away, there is no room in the Inn”.  And as Mary and Joseph turned to exit she blurted out, “But why don’t you come in for some hot chocolate before you have to go!”

            We all know people whose compassion defines their living, even to their own detriment.  Joseph must have really loved that young girl Mary. In the end he would risk his own reputation out of compassion.  He would not put her to shame.

 

            Joseph was a faithful man.  He listens to and obeys the commands of angels.  (note: When an angel comes to warn him of Herod’s threat to kill the Christ child and directs the family to flee to Egypt (Matthew 2:13-15).  When an angel tells him it safe to return to Nazareth (Matthew 2:19)).

            So does Mary.  In Luke, Gabriel comes to her explaining her role in the miracle of Christmas.  She could have been as young as 13 or 14 years old, yet when confronted by the angel she responses with courage and faith, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord…”

            In modern terms these might be the most unlikely pair to start a family.  A mature and respected man, publicly recognized for his faith.  A juvenile girl, unknown, unwed.

Consider the courage it took for them to go ahead with this marriage.  What would others think, after all?

            Most of us over fifty years old grew up in a culture with the expectation that what “family” means is a man working outside of the home, a women working inside and children happily bounding around the house.  “Ozzie and Harriet” and “June and Ward Cleaver” were our models of what family was all about.

            But now we know that just having a Mom and a Dad is not enough.  Thank God that most families are places of nurture and loving relationships, but they can also be the home for victims of violence, neglect and abuse.

            What makes a family “good” isn’t just having a Mom and a Dad and kids.  What makes a family is the love its members share.  Single parent families, blended step-families, adults without children, kids being raised by grandparents, single unmarrieds adopting, elderly singles living independently from their children, and the traditional two parent family, all kinds of shapes and sized of families are good, when love rules their life together.

By our culture’s standards it took real courage and faith for Mary to do what she was called to do.  The same is true of Joseph.  He was willing to go against the odds and the expectations of his neighbors to love Mary and her son Jesus.

            Shouldn’t love be the only measure by which we judge some else’s family?

 

            In spite of the theological awkwardness of Jesus’ two distinct fathers, at the heart of the Christmas story is the conviction that at a particular time and place…in a way that supersedes the normal course of human events…God acted in history for our salvation.

            God’s steadfast love, his urgent willingness to forgive and love us, becomes flesh.

            Our Christmas story is full of such grace.  In Mary’s courage.  In Elizabeth’s praise.  In the Magi’s searching.  In the Shepherd’s proclamation.  Celebrate its wonder and glory in the coming week.  Let its hope and opportunity be born again in our hearts.

            And don’t forget the carpenter Joseph, even though he is merely a footnote in the records.  He risked social scorn and humiliation to follow the command of God, to love his wife to be, and stand by her when he could have run away.

            Joseph is in our crèches scenes because righteousness, compassion and faith are never forgotten. 

And because he names the baby “Jesus”, which means “God Saves”.

 

                        Amen.

           

When Good News Is Bad News

When Good News Is Bad News

 John 1:6-8, 19-28

December 14, 2014

Mark S. Bollwinkel

 

            As we heard last week the Advent season doesn’t begin with manger scenes and wise men but the urgency of God’s future.  John the Baptist announced, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord”.    John fulfills the prophecy of the Old Testament that a voice in the wilderness will announce the coming of the new messiah.  

            Two thousand years ago John the Baptist was drawing significant crowds of faithful to his baptism for the repentance of sins in the river Jordan.   So much so that historians of the day record his popularity.   Kings and princes knew about John and his following.  It was as if John the Baptist made headlines in the newspapers and was a regular on the nightly news.   All of the gospels make it plain that the popular Baptist was not nor claimed to be the messiah; rather John was the herald of Jesus’ coming.

            Of the Christ, John the Baptist will say, “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.”

 

            Sandals were the most common form of footwear in the ancient near east.  Most often made of leather, sandals had a simple sole with straps around the ankle.   The poor or those in mourning went barefoot.   Shepherds, soldiers and those traveling required good sandals to withstand the stones and thorns along the way. 

Remember that public sanitation, sewer systems and toilets are modern inventions.   In Jesus’ day, and well into Renaissance European history for that matter, human, animal and material waste was discarded along the streets and roads.    One’s feet, even with the best of sandals, were commonly covered in dirt and filth.   

It was the custom to take off one’s shoes and wash one’s feet when entering a house or worship area.   Slaves were assigned to take off the master’s or mistress’s sandals and clean their feet after a journey out of the house.   Touching another’s feet was a degrading act in part due to the contact with the dirt and filth of everyday travel.   This is why it is so shocking when the sinful woman cleans Jesus’ feet with expensive ointment and her tears and then dries them with her hair (Luke 7:36-f).   This is why it is so startling that Jesus insists on washing the feet of his disciples before the Last Supper (John 13:1-f).

When John the Baptist says he is “unworthy to even untie the straps of Jesus’ sandals” he is speaking as if a slave to a master.   John wants to make it clear that for all his piety and popularity he is not the messiah.   And he wants to make it clear just how holy this Jesus really is; in other texts he will call Jesus nothing less than the “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” (John 1:29)

John the Baptist is dressed for the part of an apocalyptic herald rejecting modern convention and living an ascetic life dedicated to God’s future.   He is a wilderness man, clothed in camel’s hair, leather belt; eating insects and honey.     He can see the day dawning when love will rule the human heart.  In the coming of the messiah social injustice and spiritual corruption will be rooted out.   He is dressed for the journey of faith in God’s promised future and he is ready to give his life to it.

How about us?   

            Is our faith best represented by a sandal or a dress shoe, for example?  

You know the kind.   The kind of shoe you pull out of the back of the closest for special occasions, blow off the dust and polish.   These aren’t your most comfortable shoes.  They don’t get much use.   Made of fancy leather they are probably stiff.  After wearing them your feet hurt.   These are the kind of shoes that you sigh with relief when you take them off.   But you’ve got to have a pair like this for business meetings, or weddings, funerals or church on Sunday.   These are “what will people think” shoes if you don’t wear them to the appropriate function.

In the Kudzu comic strip Rev. Will B. Dunn assigned to pastor a wealthy congregation explains to a colleague, “You can’t judge a wealthy person until you’ve walked a mile in their Gucci’s!”

Are we dressed for the journey of faith in dress shoes? Used for appearance and not much for practice?

How about work boots? 

Work boots are tough, sturdy shoes made to take a beating.   Their soles are rippled with texture so to grip slippery surfaces.   Many will have steel plates in the toe.  Shoes like this will often be scarred or stained from the effort.   They can be extremely comfortable but are not the kind of shoe you wear to a party, to your Mom’s Thanksgiving Dinner or to church on Sunday; what would people think?!

If we wear work boots on the journey of faith we are committed to putting our faith into action, to the mission of service and the efforts of compassion.   If we wear work boots on the journey of faith we have little time to pray in silence, to read a book or to waste in the comfort of a sanctuary.  Changing the world is what faith is all about for the “work boot” faithful.   If Jesus is coming we have to look busy, preparing the way for the coming of the Lord.

Or maybe our faith is best described in a running shoe.

The foot race is one of the Apostle Paul’s favorite metaphors for the journey of faith; “I have fought the good fight.  I have finished the race.  I have kept the faith.  Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord…will award to me on the day and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” (2 Tim 4:7-8, also note, I Cor 9:24, Gal. 2:2, 5:7, Heb. 12:1)

Paul isn’t thinking of a sprint or a dash but the marathon race, the endurance race in life and faith.   One needs light weight but strong shoes for a distance run.  Soles that can take a beating.  Leather that won’t weigh you down.   The goal of such a journey is the crown of righteousness, the reward for enduring hills and valleys, good days and bad.   It takes commitment and training to run a marathon, good nutrition and coaching.  You can’t do it alone.   Whether you are slow or fast makes no difference.  Simply crossing the finish line with your head held high is all that matters.

 

John the Baptist is dressed for the journey of faith, a faith born in the passionate conviction that God’s promised future was dawning in the life of Jesus of Nazareth.  He didn’t feel worthy to untie the straps of Master’s sandals, as if he, John the Baptist, were nothing more than a slave.   Yet that Master will honor John and all of us by his own humility and love.   This Jesus will invite us to sit at his feet and learn (Luke 10:38-f).  This Jesus will wash the feet of those who follow him.

 

Let me digress for a moment.

 

Have you ever had to tell someone something you knew they didn’t want to hear?  Such as during an employee’s evaluation and review, or in a dispute with someone in your family, or telling a friend he has got a problem which everyone is aware of but him?

It is tough to be honest.  Especially about painful issues.

            One of the most famous of the Peanuts comic strips has Linus giving Charlie Brown this sage bit of advice, “”I don’t like to face problems head on.  I think the best way to solve problems is to avoid them.  This is a distinct philosophy of mine.  No problem is so big or complicated that it can’t be run away from!”

Know any people like that?

We put up with lousy relationships for years because we’re afraid to express our needs to our partners.  We learn to live with alcohol or drug dependency supported by family and friends in a denial system where they feed the habit because confronting it would be too painful.

David Myers writes in his book, Your Better Self, that we are a culture which avoids direct responsibility for our actions.  We accept credit for success and blame others for our failures.  Athletes will credit their skills for a victory but blame officials or the weather for a loss.  Myers documents the descriptions of auto accidents from victim insurance forms, with words such as:

 

-“An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished”

-“A pedestrian hit me and went under my car”

-“As I reached an intersection, a hedge sprang up obscuring my vision and I did

            not see the other car”

 

It is hard to listen to the preaching of John the Baptist this Third Sunday of Advent.  This is Christmas time.  We want to hear stories of the Baby in the Manger, the Star in the East, Shepherds and Angels.  Now is the time to hear the Good News that God loves us just the way we are, so much so that God becomes one of us.  And it is wonderfully Good News!  

But it can be bad news for those who worship power and privilege.  It can be bad news for those whom greed is the measure of wealth.  It can be bad news for those convinced they have all the answers and don’t need anybody else in their lives.

Here on the third Sunday of Advent we find John the Baptist, shouting from the top of his lungs, that to get to the manger we’ve got to go through the desert. 

So what will it be?  Sandals.  Dress shoes.  Work boots.  Running shoes.

What shoes are we wearing for the journey of faith?

 

Amen.

Prepare Ye the Way

Prepare Ye the Way

Mark 1:1-8

December 7, 2014

Mark S. Bollwinkel

 

            The gospel of Mark doesn’t begin with a Christmas story, as do Luke and Matthew.  Rather Mark starts with John the Baptist announcing the Good News.  Quoting from Old Testament prophets Malachi (3:1a) and Isaiah (40:3) the baptizer shouts, “I am the messenger, the voice in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord!”

            By tradition the second Sunday of Advent always includes reference to John the Baptist.  Most of us want to hear about shepherds and angels, stars and Magi but this Sunday we get John the Baptist!  It makes sense for a number of reasons.

This is a season of preparation.  We are getting the house ready for Christmas by putting up the lights and decorating a tree.  We are preparing for Christmas morning by shopping till we drop.  We are cleaning out the closets and getting the guest rooms ready for visitors during the holiday.

We know how to prepare.

But do we know how to prepare “the way of the Lord”?

Unless we are comfortable relegating all this holiday effort to cultural conformity the reason for the season is preparing “the way of the Lord”.   That is why we decorate the house, and spend a fortune on presents and welcome friends and family into our homes.  We open our hearts and lives to the love of God in the gift giving, the feasting and the wonder of the lights and music and images of Christmas.  We seek the light of God in the darkness of our world through these preparations.

Don’t we?

In the original language the term “the way” literally meant “pathway”, “street” or “road”.  In the New Testament it is being used metaphorically to mean the path of, or pilgrimage with, Jesus.

“Preparing the way of the Lord” is the challenge to make ready our hearts for the journey with Jesus throughout our lives.  If we want more than going through the motions of Advent and Christmas we need to plan for the trip.  We will need a number of things for the journey.

 

First, a map.

The best trips begin with a clear sense of where we are going and how to get there.

            Have you ever been to Wisdom, Montana?  On the map this town of 98 people is located just outside of Beaverhead National Forest on highway 43.  If you’ve never been there you have to trust that the map is true.  In fact, this piece of paper is the record of hundreds if not thousands of people who have travelled to Wisdom, Montana.  Over the years a body of knowledge has been built necessary for the map makers to accurately depict their experiences to the exact location. 

This piece of paper isn’t Wisdom, Montana but if you ever want to visit Wisdom for yourself, you better have a good map.

The Bible describes the destination of history.  The Bible is our map for the journey.  Of course, we also use the creeds of the church, the hymns of our worship tradition and the teachings of the great theologians to map the way.  But if we would really “prepare the way of the Lord” in our lives we would we would get to know this wonderful resource we have in the Bible and bring it along for the trip.  John the Baptist suggested just that as he quoted from Isaiah and Malachi. 

 

            Secondly, we need a mirror.

            John the Baptist tells us to “prepare the way of the Lord” by the baptism of repentance.  Baptism was practiced for hundreds of years prior to John’s ministry as a ritual cleansing symbolic of spiritual renewal and re-birth.

            John the Baptist was an eschatological preacher.  He had a passionate view of what the future holds (Matthew 3:7-10, Luke 3:7-9).  He was a desert esthetic, wearing animal skins and eating wild foods to purify him self for the end of the world.  The Old Testament prophets he quoted saw the day coming when a Messiah would usher in a new heaven and earth.  The Good News John announced is that in Jesus the new Messiah has come.  God’s promised future is about to unfold (Matthew 3:2).  The baptism he offered was an initiation rite into the community dedicated to living in the present as if God’s future were now.

            In the original language “repentance” (metanoias) means “to change one’s mind”, it is rooted in the Hebrew verb (tesubah) “to turn around”.   Repentance is radical; it means to change one’s heart, will and conduct.

            Most of us sophisticated, well-educated folk don’t want to hear about repentance.  We are doing just fine thank you, we could lose a little weight, spend more time with the spouse or kids, be a little nicer to the dog but all-in-all we are decent folks.  Sure the world is a mess but we didn’t cause it.  Few of us would go out into the desert to be baptized by John.

            But in his day hundreds left the cities to do just that, so much so that the historians of the day wrote about his popularity.  The tyrant of the day, King Herod, had him beheaded to remove any political threat.

            John’s world was a mess, too, with famine, wars and rumors of wars.  The Roman occupation of Palestine was brutal and the Hebrew people lived under constant threat and limitation.  Unlike us, they sensed that their spirituality had something to do with it.  Many, across all social strata, felt that a spiritual renewal as a society could redeem their nation and future.  They flocked to John the Baptist with a passionate hope for their lives and the world.

            What they found in that moment was an opportunity to take stock of who they really were as individuals and their need for God.  Baptism was “coming clean” about their mortality, their ethics and the brokenness in their lives and then “washing away” their sin.  To “prepare the way of the Lord” meant a radical honesty about who they were and where they were going, and a radical openness for God to make something new of them and their world.

            In the 12 Step recovery movements from any addiction, the steps include taking a “fearless moral inventory” of one’s life and a commitment to make amends for the past hurts we have caused others.  We won’t get healthy and whole as individuals…we won’t get healthy and whole as a society…until we honestly confront the shadow side of our lives.

            Those who really love us are willing to offer that honesty in supportive confrontation.  We call it “holding up the mirror”, really taking a look at yourself, what you have done and who you have become as a person.

            To “prepare the way of the Lord”, to journey on the way with Jesus, means we will have to bring our mirror along.

 

            Lastly, we will also have to bring along a large trash bag.

            The baptism John offered was for the repentance of sins and the receiving of God’s forgiveness.   That too is a challenge for people like us. 

            You see, to “prepare the way of the Lord” means we learn how to forgive and receive forgiveness.  The journey on Jesus’ way is a glorious opportunity to get rid of the trash we carry around with us like a dead weight.  It’s a life long journey that leads to joy and peace; past hurts, slights and failures only bog us down.  That is why John the Baptist offered repentance and forgiveness.  To be an agents of the future we have to learn to let go of the past.

 

Clara Barton (1821-1912) founded the American brand of the International Red Cross in 1882.  Earlier she had become known as a battlefield angel of mercy in European wars, and she carried the same respect in her own country during the Civil War.  One day an old friend, burdened by the painful weight of a long-held grudge, yet anxious to find a companion who would help him nourish it, reminded the famous nurse of a time years earlier when she had been the victim of a vicious act of hatred.  When Clara acted surprised and unaware that such a thing had ever happened, the friend asked, “Don’t you remember that?”  Clara replied, “No.  I distinctly remember forgetting it.”

(Max L. Christensen, Turning Points: Stories of People Who Made a Difference, Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993, pp.7-8)

 

The Good News John announces is that in our estrangement from God, God has come back to us.  We are given an opportunity to clean up our act and start a new life, in fact a new world. However much we have fouled up, nothing we have done can defeat this good news.

Journeying with Jesus into the promise of God’s future we are going to need a

large trash bag in which to dispose the garbage of our past. 

 

            When we remember John the Baptist on the second Sunday of Advent we hear that same call in his proclamation to “prepare ye the way of the Lord.”  The road leads to eschatological promise of hope.  The kingdom of God and eternal life are the destination.  We’ll need a map, a mirror and a trash bag to get there but there is joy to be found in the journey.

 

If all we want from the Christmas season is warm memories and comfortable platitudes we will dismiss the call of John the Baptist.  But this Jesus he foretells isn’t interested in memories and platitudes. 

God loves us just as we are but God loves us too much to leave us that way. Change and growth results from the encounter with grace.  Advent can be an opportunity to clean up the old and make a new commitment to God’s future for our lives and the world.

So will we have another Christmas as usual or shall we prepare the way of the Lord?

 

Amen.