A Different Kind of Christmas Story
Prepare ye the way of the Lord. That’s what her preacher had said. That’s what she was trying to do this Advent season. She desperately wanted to prepare her heart to receive the peace of Christ. God knew she could use some peace.
Carol was a single mom trying to raise two kids. Her husband bailed after the second child was born prematurely and had some developmental problems. The doctors couldn’t guarantee she would turn out to be “normal” and he couldn’t handle it. Ironically, her youngest did turn out to be just fine—a happy 11-year-old with a “B” average and an addiction to instant messaging on the computer.
Carol used to love Christmas. Her father once told her that the Christmas “Carols” were sung just for her, and years after she stopped believing him, she loved pretending it was true. She knew the words to all of them. But this year, she just didn’t feel much like singing.
There was a store that she walked by on the way to work everyday that had a window full of nativity scenes. There was one that she always paused to look at. It was too expensive for her to purchase, and she wondered if it might still be there and go on sale after Christmas. Then she always felt a little guilty waiting for a bargain Jesus. It was the kind that just had Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus. None of the shepherds or wisemen or barn animals. Just the family. The baby is sleeping and Mary is looking down at him. Her face the picture of calm and peace.
Working full time and trying to raise two precocious girls who were determined to grow up as fast as they could didn’t bring a lot of peace to Carol. She was hoping to find some this Christmas. This year, she was really wanting something more from Christmas. Though her life wasn’t bad, things really hadn’t turned out the way she thought they would. Life seemed a little hollow—as if there was something deep in her core that needed to be filled. She was hoping and praying that Christmas would bring her what she yearned for this year.
She wanted to Prepare the Way for the Lord, but she honestly couldn’t find the time. She got up early enough for a short power walk to help preserve her waistline and her sanity. Then it was always chaos for three females to get ready and out the door by 8 a.m. Her work day sailed with lunch usually being a sandwich at her desk. And then by the time she got home, fixed dinner, helped with homework, got the girls to bed and threw a load of whites in the laundry, all she wanted to do was collapse in a heap. She didn’t even have time to pray. When on earth this the preacher (who didn’t have any children) think she was going to do all this preparation?
But every day when she passed by that store, she paused to look at that nativity scene—it was her very own Christmas story. She imagined that Silent Night when Christ was born. She imagined how miraculous that night must have been and she longed for the peace she saw in Mary’s eyes.
One day as she was passing the store front to look at her nativity scene she was shocked and disappointed to see that it was gone. Guess she wouldn’t be buying it on the after Christmas sales after all. But in its place was a very different kind of scene. This one had the shepherds and the sheep and a donkey and a cow and even the three wisemen. Baby Jesus was not asleep, but his feet and arms were waving in the air and Joseph was leaned over as if speaking to Mary whose head was thrown back like she was laughing.
“What on earth was she laughing about?” thought Carol. Then it hit her. Mary was laughing at the absurdity of it all. Two people, far away from home, birthing their first child—a child that they had on good authority was actually God—birthing him in a barn among the livestock. One would have to either laugh or cry—and this Mary had chosen to laugh.
Then Carol realized that there was nothing “silent” about that night. It was loud and dirty and uncomfortable and painful and, yes…chaotic. Nobody was at all prepared for Jesus that first Christmas, yet he came anyway. He burst onto the scene screaming and messy and hungry. Carol’s hectic schedule seemed like a cake walk compared to what must have gone on in Bethlehem that first Christmas.
If Jesus could enter the world in such an unexpected and unlikely way, surely he could make his way into her wacky world. She had her very own epiphany right in front of the Hallmark store.
So that year, to prepare for Advent, she became the laughing Mary.
When the work package that just absolutely positively had to get there overnight went to Tucson instead of Boston, she ran some damage control and then she tossed back her head and laughed.
When she fell into bitter moods over being left to raise two daughters alone, she smiled because she, and she alone, knew the joy of being a parent to those two wonderful creatures she called daughters.
When the disposal and the dishwasher broke on the same day, she laughed because it couldn’t get worse, and then the next day when the dryer broke, she laughed at her own naivete.
When she heard her two daughters unpacking the Christmas decorations and her youngest cried out—“Mom, Sara hid the baby Jesus. Tell her she can’t have him. Jesus is for all of us.” She laughed, because she knew that truer words had never been spoken.
And then in the midst of all that laughter, a funny thing happened. Not funny, ha ha. But funny, odd. Funny wonderful.
Somehow, the mornings seemed easier. And she didn’t feel exhausted by nightfall. There was not only time to pray, but the prayers seemed to bubble up from inside of her. They came with no effort at all. And there was no part of her body, her soul, or her life that seemed hollow.
Several years ago she had let each of the girls choose their favorite food to have for Christmas dinner. So that Christmas Eve after church when she and the girls sat down to their traditional dinner of pizza and Cheetos, every part of her felt whole.
Her life was loud, messy, uncomfortable, painful and chaotic. She was totally prepared for the coming of the Christ child. After all, her life was just the kind of place where Jesus feels at home.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Wednesday, December 5
Sorry to have to cancel this week's gathering due to strep throat. Here is this week's message. We'll pick back up with Mary next week!
Matthew 1:18-25
This is the year that Joseph gets his due. We know all about Mary, but Joseph seems to fade into the background of Advent. Which is kind of odd, since his story is actually more intriguing. I mean, I think we all know what we’d do if a pregnant teenager came to us for help. There would be hugs and prayers and compassion and help offered. But what if a male friend came to you and told you that the woman he was engaged to was pregnant and the child wasn’t his, but he was going to marry her and raise the child anyway. Anybody got a good response to this one?
Why do I feel as if this story were coming to pass in this day and age, it would be turned into a reality television show?
I can just hear the promo now. “We’ve assembled 10 eligible bachelors and told them that each are going to get to marry a beautiful younger woman. What they don’t know is that the woman is 8-and-a-half months pregnant and the baby belongs to someone else. They’ll be asked to marry her anyway, trek 80 miles through the desert and then deliver the baby with no mid-wife, physician or epidural drip in a livestock barn. The man who is able to secure a donkey for the trip, deliver the baby without passing out or calling for backup, and commit to raising the child as his own will win a two-year trip to Egypt and a life of uncertainty.”
And if this actually did make it into production, would anyone who was watching it place their bets on a poor peasant teenager and a carpenter from a little town no one had every even heard of? They don’t exactly sound like a powerhouse of a couple.
They certainly don’t fit what we typically think of as power couples. Bill and Hillary, Arnold and Maria, Brad and Angelina. They weren’t educated. They weren’t rich. They weren’t prominent. But in reality, Mary and Joseph are the ultimate power couple—and not just because they brought Jesus into the world. I think there are three marks of this couple that make them powerful—not in the way we often think of power.
First of all, they were open to hearing God. Angels appeared to both Mary and to Joseph to announce what was about to come to pass. I don’t think that angels appear to folks who aren’t interested in listening to them. Perhaps Mary and Joseph were chosen because of their openness to the possibility.
I once had a conversation with a woman who shared with me a recent experience that couldn’t be properly explained but yielded delightful results. This person asked me if I believed the Holy Spirit could have been involved. I said I absolutely did. The member said, “Well, I hesitate to share this with anyone but you, because a lot of folks don’t really believe in that.” I said that I believed the Holy Spirit moves in all of our lives. Some of us are just more aware of its movement.
I believe both Mary and Joseph were open to the possibility of God in our midst and that their ears were open and ready to hear.
Mark One of a powerful person.
Secondly, there were willing to believe what they heard. In other words, they trusted God. Even though it didn’t make sense. Even though believing meant their lives would change forever.
Mark two of a powerful person.
Third, they were willing to do something. They were willing to cooperate with God’s action in human history—also known as obedience. One of my favorite passages in the Bible is when Mary says yes. There is something incredibly powerful about this young girl agreeing to carry the child of God despite the consequences that might befall her. But I realized this week that Joseph’s obedience God was equally important. His cooperation went against everything he knew. Jewish law said he should return Mary to her father where that same law said she could be stoned for shaming her husband and family. But Joseph, not having all of the evidence and knowledge of the future, not having all the detail spelled out, decided to do more than law and custom required. He elected to do more than was expected of him. He let justice and compassion guide his decision about his pregnant betrothed. He was pulled, not by the strength of custom, but by the
law of love and his obedience to God.
He continued to follow God and not custom even when the baby was born. He gave the baby, not a family name, as was and still is the custom in Jewish families. He named the baby Jesus. Acknowledging that the baby belonged to God and at the same time committing the raising the child as his own.
Mary and Joseph were willing to cooperate with God’s actions in human history.
Mark three of a powerful person.
I don’t know about you, but I would like to feel powerful right about now. There are so many times that I feel powerless. I feel powerless in the face of war in Iraq and mounting tensions in Iran, Pakistan and the Sudan. I feel powerless to even begin to meet the needs of so many people that I know of who are lonely and forgotten. I feel powerless to defend those who are being abused in their own homes. I even feel powerless to quell the unexpected melt-downs of my six-year-old!
But when I think about Mary and Joseph, I begin to believe that perhaps I am not so powerless after all. Perhaps we can all learn from them something about what it means to be powerful
Let us be open to hearing what God has to say. Open to the power of the Holy Spirit moving in our midst.
Let us believe not only in God but in what God is saying to us. Let us trust that God is leading us down the right path—even when the path looks bumpy and twisty and uncertain.
Let us cooperate with God’s actions in human history. Let us not only hear and believe, but take action. Even when it costs us. Even when it goes against custom. Even when it may sound ridiculous to those who do not hear and to those who do not believe.
The ability to hear God, the faith to believe God and the courage to cooperate with God.
Two thousand years ago, two poor, uneducated and seemingly insignifant people changed the course—some might even argue the fate—of the world.
I’m not really all that interested in the habits of highly effective people. Perhaps that’s because I’m rarely that effective. I’m a lot more intrigued by the habits of the ultimate power couple. Hear, believe and act. If we all had the courage and the faith and the power of Joseph and Mary, then the wars would cease, the hungry would be fed, homes would not be a place of fear.
We worship a powerful God and we all have the potential to be powerful people. Let us hear, believe and act. 2000 years ago, such actions brought a much-needed savior into this world. What might they accomplish today?
Matthew 1:18-25
This is the year that Joseph gets his due. We know all about Mary, but Joseph seems to fade into the background of Advent. Which is kind of odd, since his story is actually more intriguing. I mean, I think we all know what we’d do if a pregnant teenager came to us for help. There would be hugs and prayers and compassion and help offered. But what if a male friend came to you and told you that the woman he was engaged to was pregnant and the child wasn’t his, but he was going to marry her and raise the child anyway. Anybody got a good response to this one?
Why do I feel as if this story were coming to pass in this day and age, it would be turned into a reality television show?
I can just hear the promo now. “We’ve assembled 10 eligible bachelors and told them that each are going to get to marry a beautiful younger woman. What they don’t know is that the woman is 8-and-a-half months pregnant and the baby belongs to someone else. They’ll be asked to marry her anyway, trek 80 miles through the desert and then deliver the baby with no mid-wife, physician or epidural drip in a livestock barn. The man who is able to secure a donkey for the trip, deliver the baby without passing out or calling for backup, and commit to raising the child as his own will win a two-year trip to Egypt and a life of uncertainty.”
And if this actually did make it into production, would anyone who was watching it place their bets on a poor peasant teenager and a carpenter from a little town no one had every even heard of? They don’t exactly sound like a powerhouse of a couple.
They certainly don’t fit what we typically think of as power couples. Bill and Hillary, Arnold and Maria, Brad and Angelina. They weren’t educated. They weren’t rich. They weren’t prominent. But in reality, Mary and Joseph are the ultimate power couple—and not just because they brought Jesus into the world. I think there are three marks of this couple that make them powerful—not in the way we often think of power.
First of all, they were open to hearing God. Angels appeared to both Mary and to Joseph to announce what was about to come to pass. I don’t think that angels appear to folks who aren’t interested in listening to them. Perhaps Mary and Joseph were chosen because of their openness to the possibility.
I once had a conversation with a woman who shared with me a recent experience that couldn’t be properly explained but yielded delightful results. This person asked me if I believed the Holy Spirit could have been involved. I said I absolutely did. The member said, “Well, I hesitate to share this with anyone but you, because a lot of folks don’t really believe in that.” I said that I believed the Holy Spirit moves in all of our lives. Some of us are just more aware of its movement.
I believe both Mary and Joseph were open to the possibility of God in our midst and that their ears were open and ready to hear.
Mark One of a powerful person.
Secondly, there were willing to believe what they heard. In other words, they trusted God. Even though it didn’t make sense. Even though believing meant their lives would change forever.
Mark two of a powerful person.
Third, they were willing to do something. They were willing to cooperate with God’s action in human history—also known as obedience. One of my favorite passages in the Bible is when Mary says yes. There is something incredibly powerful about this young girl agreeing to carry the child of God despite the consequences that might befall her. But I realized this week that Joseph’s obedience God was equally important. His cooperation went against everything he knew. Jewish law said he should return Mary to her father where that same law said she could be stoned for shaming her husband and family. But Joseph, not having all of the evidence and knowledge of the future, not having all the detail spelled out, decided to do more than law and custom required. He elected to do more than was expected of him. He let justice and compassion guide his decision about his pregnant betrothed. He was pulled, not by the strength of custom, but by the
law of love and his obedience to God.
He continued to follow God and not custom even when the baby was born. He gave the baby, not a family name, as was and still is the custom in Jewish families. He named the baby Jesus. Acknowledging that the baby belonged to God and at the same time committing the raising the child as his own.
Mary and Joseph were willing to cooperate with God’s actions in human history.
Mark three of a powerful person.
I don’t know about you, but I would like to feel powerful right about now. There are so many times that I feel powerless. I feel powerless in the face of war in Iraq and mounting tensions in Iran, Pakistan and the Sudan. I feel powerless to even begin to meet the needs of so many people that I know of who are lonely and forgotten. I feel powerless to defend those who are being abused in their own homes. I even feel powerless to quell the unexpected melt-downs of my six-year-old!
But when I think about Mary and Joseph, I begin to believe that perhaps I am not so powerless after all. Perhaps we can all learn from them something about what it means to be powerful
Let us be open to hearing what God has to say. Open to the power of the Holy Spirit moving in our midst.
Let us believe not only in God but in what God is saying to us. Let us trust that God is leading us down the right path—even when the path looks bumpy and twisty and uncertain.
Let us cooperate with God’s actions in human history. Let us not only hear and believe, but take action. Even when it costs us. Even when it goes against custom. Even when it may sound ridiculous to those who do not hear and to those who do not believe.
The ability to hear God, the faith to believe God and the courage to cooperate with God.
Two thousand years ago, two poor, uneducated and seemingly insignifant people changed the course—some might even argue the fate—of the world.
I’m not really all that interested in the habits of highly effective people. Perhaps that’s because I’m rarely that effective. I’m a lot more intrigued by the habits of the ultimate power couple. Hear, believe and act. If we all had the courage and the faith and the power of Joseph and Mary, then the wars would cease, the hungry would be fed, homes would not be a place of fear.
We worship a powerful God and we all have the potential to be powerful people. Let us hear, believe and act. 2000 years ago, such actions brought a much-needed savior into this world. What might they accomplish today?
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
No Express Trains to Bethlehem
Had our best turn-out yet. For those who missed, here is the message for the week of November 28
John 3:1-6
Every year, about this time, we all hop a train headed toward Bethlehem. We begin to prepare our hearts and minds for the coming of the Christ-child. Even in the midst of the shopping, the baking, the entertaining, we look forward to arriving in Bethlehem to catch a glimpse of the Christ child. For Christ to be born once again in our hearts. Emmanuel. God with us. The hope of the world in the form of a precious little baby.
Here in Germany, the ride comes with Christmas Markets, gluhwein, advent wreaths and trimmings worthy of any Hallmark card. We enjoy our ride. Until… BAM! The train comes to a screeching halt. Not at Bethlehem, but at the river Jordan. And instead of a precious scene of mother and child, we come face to face with the wooly-haired, wild-eyed, locust-eating, hair-shirt wearing, loud-mouthed John the Baptist. No Heavenly Hosts. No Glorias. No Alleluias. Just the grating voice of a man we wouldn’t dream of having over for dinner calling on us to Prepare the Way of the Lord. Repent! He calls. Repent!
We think, “This is a mistake. I’m pretty sure I got on the express train to Bethlehem. No stops between now and Christmas.” But John keeps going—quoting one of his predecessors, the prophet Isaiah. “Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.”
The voice of John clashes with the hum of Christmas carols and interrupts the to-do list running through our heads. But, as disturbing and disruptive as John the Baptist is, we need to see him on our way to Bethlehem. On our way to come face to face with the word made flesh. On our way to the night love came down.
Because seeing John reminds us of our need to repent—a word which literally means to turn around. To turn around and head in a new direction. And the words of Isaiah thrown back at us by John give us a clue as to where to start. Perhaps there are empty spaces in our lives that need to be filled, crooked places that need to be straightened, rough spots that need to be smoothed, and prideful areas that could use some leveling out.
To prepare the way of the Lord is to acknowledge our own need for the powerful love of God made manifest in Jesus Christ. To trot out those empty spaces and puffed up places, to reveal the rough spots and the stress knots and lay them at the manger before a God who loved us enough to become one of us.
There is no express train to Bethlehem. To get there, we must stop at the river Jordan and heed the words of John the Baptist. Before we arrive at that sacred scene, we must take the time to prepare our hearts and our minds and our lives to receive this mysterious, wondrous gift of love.
John 3:1-6
Every year, about this time, we all hop a train headed toward Bethlehem. We begin to prepare our hearts and minds for the coming of the Christ-child. Even in the midst of the shopping, the baking, the entertaining, we look forward to arriving in Bethlehem to catch a glimpse of the Christ child. For Christ to be born once again in our hearts. Emmanuel. God with us. The hope of the world in the form of a precious little baby.
Here in Germany, the ride comes with Christmas Markets, gluhwein, advent wreaths and trimmings worthy of any Hallmark card. We enjoy our ride. Until… BAM! The train comes to a screeching halt. Not at Bethlehem, but at the river Jordan. And instead of a precious scene of mother and child, we come face to face with the wooly-haired, wild-eyed, locust-eating, hair-shirt wearing, loud-mouthed John the Baptist. No Heavenly Hosts. No Glorias. No Alleluias. Just the grating voice of a man we wouldn’t dream of having over for dinner calling on us to Prepare the Way of the Lord. Repent! He calls. Repent!
We think, “This is a mistake. I’m pretty sure I got on the express train to Bethlehem. No stops between now and Christmas.” But John keeps going—quoting one of his predecessors, the prophet Isaiah. “Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.”
The voice of John clashes with the hum of Christmas carols and interrupts the to-do list running through our heads. But, as disturbing and disruptive as John the Baptist is, we need to see him on our way to Bethlehem. On our way to come face to face with the word made flesh. On our way to the night love came down.
Because seeing John reminds us of our need to repent—a word which literally means to turn around. To turn around and head in a new direction. And the words of Isaiah thrown back at us by John give us a clue as to where to start. Perhaps there are empty spaces in our lives that need to be filled, crooked places that need to be straightened, rough spots that need to be smoothed, and prideful areas that could use some leveling out.
To prepare the way of the Lord is to acknowledge our own need for the powerful love of God made manifest in Jesus Christ. To trot out those empty spaces and puffed up places, to reveal the rough spots and the stress knots and lay them at the manger before a God who loved us enough to become one of us.
There is no express train to Bethlehem. To get there, we must stop at the river Jordan and heed the words of John the Baptist. Before we arrive at that sacred scene, we must take the time to prepare our hearts and our minds and our lives to receive this mysterious, wondrous gift of love.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Why We Gather at the Table
John 6:25-35
Andy Rooney once said that the two biggest sections in any bookstore were the cookbooks and the diet books. Food is a focal point in our lives. Whether we’re trying the latest diet or watching the Food Network, we are surrounded and somewhat obsessed by food. We even use food words everywhere. A display of too much skin is beefcake or cheesecake. We have half-baked ideas and fishy stories. We bring home the bacon, and your brain on drugs looks like a fried egg. We thirst for knowledge. We crave attention. And spiritually, we look to feed and nourish our souls.
And as much as our lives revolve around food, those of us gathered here today can’t really imagine what it is like to be without it. So, it’s hard for us to grasp the level of gratitude that was lifted up at that very first Thanksgiving meal. Although the first cold Massachusetts winter had killed off half their colony, new hope for survival grew in the summer of 1621. There was a bountiful corn harvest, and someone had come up with this new, wonderful delicacy they called cornbread. They had survived, and were just getting a taste, if you will, of what it felt like to actually thrive.
I am the bread of life. Jesus talked in terms of food, too. Bread from heaven. The folks that Jesus was talking to knew about bread from heaven. They knew the story of the Hebrew children freed from slavery in Egypt by God Almighty, led by Moses through the Red Sea, and wandering in the desert grumbling about what a big mistake it had all been. “What is it” or “manna” is what they had called that food that fell from the sky. The people of Jesus day knew the story. It was part of their history. It was part of who they were.
Faith is based on history. Whether we are Christians like Peter and James who have heard Jesus’ call to “follow me”, or Christians like Paul who came to Christ through a dramatic conversion, our faith is based on history. The history of our own experiences, the history of those who came before us.
At Thanksgiving, we gather round the table and glimpse our history. We see the friends and family who have helped to form us into who we are. Our history is found in the sweet potato casserole that Aunt Sally brings every year or the cornbread dressing recipe that your great-grandmother handed to down to your mother because everyone always said your grandmother couldn’t cook. And as we reflect on the story of the first Thanksgiving, we are reminded by our own country’s history that food doesn’t come from grocery stores. It comes from the miracle of a tiny seed planted in the ground that somehow, together with the soil and the rain and the sun, brings forth a bounty.
The people listening to Jesus in the passage today had their own history. Like their ancestors who had wandered around in the wilderness, they were probably a little grumbly, too. Under the rule of the Roman Empire, waiting for a Messiah to set them free, wondering if and when God would finally send someone. And this carpenter from Nazereth was suggesting that HE might be one they were waiting for? Who was this guy who claimed to be bread? Could they put their faith in him?
Who do we put our faith in at Thanksgiving? Someone who is not from the states was asking me about the holiday and remarked that it’s nice that everyone can participate in this holiday because it’s not religious. I was a little taken aback, but managed to say, “Actually, it’s about the most religious holiday we have. There is no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny to cloud the meaning. It’s about thanking God.” And then, to be completely honest, I had to add—“and of course, food and football.”
When we gather at the table, let us be reminded of who we are and of whose we are. We acknowledge the blessing of a bountiful table, but know that food alone does not make for a bountiful life.
Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” And we are invited to his table every day of the year so that not just our tummies, but our very lives will be full.
Andy Rooney once said that the two biggest sections in any bookstore were the cookbooks and the diet books. Food is a focal point in our lives. Whether we’re trying the latest diet or watching the Food Network, we are surrounded and somewhat obsessed by food. We even use food words everywhere. A display of too much skin is beefcake or cheesecake. We have half-baked ideas and fishy stories. We bring home the bacon, and your brain on drugs looks like a fried egg. We thirst for knowledge. We crave attention. And spiritually, we look to feed and nourish our souls.
And as much as our lives revolve around food, those of us gathered here today can’t really imagine what it is like to be without it. So, it’s hard for us to grasp the level of gratitude that was lifted up at that very first Thanksgiving meal. Although the first cold Massachusetts winter had killed off half their colony, new hope for survival grew in the summer of 1621. There was a bountiful corn harvest, and someone had come up with this new, wonderful delicacy they called cornbread. They had survived, and were just getting a taste, if you will, of what it felt like to actually thrive.
I am the bread of life. Jesus talked in terms of food, too. Bread from heaven. The folks that Jesus was talking to knew about bread from heaven. They knew the story of the Hebrew children freed from slavery in Egypt by God Almighty, led by Moses through the Red Sea, and wandering in the desert grumbling about what a big mistake it had all been. “What is it” or “manna” is what they had called that food that fell from the sky. The people of Jesus day knew the story. It was part of their history. It was part of who they were.
Faith is based on history. Whether we are Christians like Peter and James who have heard Jesus’ call to “follow me”, or Christians like Paul who came to Christ through a dramatic conversion, our faith is based on history. The history of our own experiences, the history of those who came before us.
At Thanksgiving, we gather round the table and glimpse our history. We see the friends and family who have helped to form us into who we are. Our history is found in the sweet potato casserole that Aunt Sally brings every year or the cornbread dressing recipe that your great-grandmother handed to down to your mother because everyone always said your grandmother couldn’t cook. And as we reflect on the story of the first Thanksgiving, we are reminded by our own country’s history that food doesn’t come from grocery stores. It comes from the miracle of a tiny seed planted in the ground that somehow, together with the soil and the rain and the sun, brings forth a bounty.
The people listening to Jesus in the passage today had their own history. Like their ancestors who had wandered around in the wilderness, they were probably a little grumbly, too. Under the rule of the Roman Empire, waiting for a Messiah to set them free, wondering if and when God would finally send someone. And this carpenter from Nazereth was suggesting that HE might be one they were waiting for? Who was this guy who claimed to be bread? Could they put their faith in him?
Who do we put our faith in at Thanksgiving? Someone who is not from the states was asking me about the holiday and remarked that it’s nice that everyone can participate in this holiday because it’s not religious. I was a little taken aback, but managed to say, “Actually, it’s about the most religious holiday we have. There is no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny to cloud the meaning. It’s about thanking God.” And then, to be completely honest, I had to add—“and of course, food and football.”
When we gather at the table, let us be reminded of who we are and of whose we are. We acknowledge the blessing of a bountiful table, but know that food alone does not make for a bountiful life.
Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” And we are invited to his table every day of the year so that not just our tummies, but our very lives will be full.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Coming Up
Join us over the next five weeks as we move through the holidays on Wednesdays at 1:30. Am Oberen Werth 25 in Kaiserswerth.
Messages upcoming:
November 21 Why We Gather 'Round the Table
November 28 John the Baptist--No Express Train to Bethlehem
December 5 Joseph--The Oft Forgotten Faithful
December 12 The Laughing Mary
December 18 The Wise Men--Home By Another Way
Messages upcoming:
November 21 Why We Gather 'Round the Table
November 28 John the Baptist--No Express Train to Bethlehem
December 5 Joseph--The Oft Forgotten Faithful
December 12 The Laughing Mary
December 18 The Wise Men--Home By Another Way
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Last Wednesday's Message (November 14)
Genesis 12:1-4
Blessed to Be a Blessing
There are certain things that you have to see through to the end to get the full experience. My husband once left a professional football game early because one team had clearly run away with it. He awoke the next morning to learn that he had missed what was being called the biggest comeback in NFL history. I remember one time remarking to an aunt of mine how much I like the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” She said, “What a terrible movie! I can’t believe you enjoyed it.” I said, “Didn’t you just love the end?” To which she admitted, “I never got to the end. After two hours, I was so depressed, I just turned it off!” Imagine if what your experience of Germany would have been like had you left after only a month here?
Sometimes you have to struggle through a rough beginning to get to the good stuff. So it is with The Bible. If you ever happen to have a friend who is about to embark on a study of the Bible and is seeking your advice on where to start, don’t go for the easy answer and tell them to start at the beginning. They’ll be lucky to make it out of Genesis before they toss it aside thinking that any book that begins this badly can’t have a very good outcome.
Let’s look take a quick glance at the first 11 chapters in the first book of the Bible. Adam and Eve blow it in the Garden of Eden and Paradise is Lost. The humans God has created are so toxic that God has to flood almost all of them out and start over. THEN, the people get the crazy notion to build a tower so that they can be as great as God. We end up with God’s people scattered and confused by the end of the 11th chapter, and while we’re introduced to Abraham, we learn that he is old and that his wife is barren—so we’re not pinning any great hope on them either.
But then in Chapter 12, it all begins to turn around with God’s promise to Abraham. At the center of this promise is the use of the word “bless”. It’s important that we understand just how powerful a blessing was in the world of Ancient Israel. In that world there was no concept of what we would call luck, nor was there any idea in a set of natural law operating on its own. In that context, a “blessing” was a way to describe all human well-being in relation to God as creator. There is the call of Abraham to leave what he knows and to venture out into the unknown. It is a call that is followed by a blessing. I will make you a great nation. I will bless you. I will make you great. And here’s the kicker—so that YOU WILL BE A BLESSING.
Not I will make you great so that you might eat, drink and be merry. Not I will make you great so that the world can see what I the great and powerful Yahweh can do. But I will bless you so that you will be a blessing.
This is one of the most profound theological concepts in scripture. Here is the revelation from God that God has chosen to work in the world through human agents—through a chosen people. Not that God is helpless without humanity or that humans are given some sort of divine status. But that God has chosen to give humans the responsibility of mediating the blessing of God to the world. Whoa.
Blessed so that we will be a blessing.
How does that play into how we think about blessing or how we pray and worship?
What if our children learned this idea early on—blessed so that we might be a blessing. Can you imagine how prayers might change? Instead of a nightly prayer of God bless me and mommy and daddy and grandma and grandpa, the prayer might become God bless me so that I will bless my friends. God bless mommy and daddy so that they will bless each other. God bless grandma and grandpa so that they will bless their children and grandchildren. Not only is that a different kind of prayer, it’s a different kind of relationship with God.
What if—as a nation—we sang “God bless America so that America will bless the world?” It would be a very different kind of song indeed, wouldn’t it? Instead of being a super power, we would have to become a serving power. Can you imagine a world in which Americans saw our prosperity, our technology and our standard of living as a mandate to serve the world at large? Such a world might come the closest we humans could get to creating the Kingdom here on earth.
Blessed so that we will be a blessing.
What about us as individuals? I hesitate to tell wives and mom to pray to be blessed so that you will be a blessing. So often, this particular population translates "being a blessing" into making sure everyone but YOU is taken care of. But wanting to be a blessing doesn't mean being a better cook, maid, bellhop and chauffer. It means living into all that God has called you to be. It means you desire to be fully you.
Blessed so that we will be a blessing.
Many centuries ago, an old man received a call. In a bold move, he left what was familiar and what was comfortable and ventured out into a new frontier with only a promise. He set out with weary legs, a barren wife and only a few possessions.
But this man, who was faithful enough to venture into uncharted territory, gave birth to a nation, and from that nation came a savior, and from that savior came a church and from that church come people who are committed to following Christ and answering Abraham’s call.
One man who knew that he was blessed and was willing to venture into the unknown in order to also be a blessing.
We gather here today a blessed people. We are also a bold people, having already left our home for a foreign land. Where are we willing to go? What are we willing to risk? How will we be a blessing to the world?
Prayer:
Close your eyes and think of someone who has been a blessing to you. It can be someone who blessed you long ago or someone who blessed you just yesterday.
Offer thanks for that person.
Now think of a person for whom you have been a blessing. Offer thanks for that person and for the opportunity to make a difference in his or her life.
Now imagine a door before you. Imagine that behind that door is the path through which you will encounter your next blessing. Ask God to open that door for you and help you to be open to all the possibilities that lie ahead.
Blessed to Be a Blessing
There are certain things that you have to see through to the end to get the full experience. My husband once left a professional football game early because one team had clearly run away with it. He awoke the next morning to learn that he had missed what was being called the biggest comeback in NFL history. I remember one time remarking to an aunt of mine how much I like the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” She said, “What a terrible movie! I can’t believe you enjoyed it.” I said, “Didn’t you just love the end?” To which she admitted, “I never got to the end. After two hours, I was so depressed, I just turned it off!” Imagine if what your experience of Germany would have been like had you left after only a month here?
Sometimes you have to struggle through a rough beginning to get to the good stuff. So it is with The Bible. If you ever happen to have a friend who is about to embark on a study of the Bible and is seeking your advice on where to start, don’t go for the easy answer and tell them to start at the beginning. They’ll be lucky to make it out of Genesis before they toss it aside thinking that any book that begins this badly can’t have a very good outcome.
Let’s look take a quick glance at the first 11 chapters in the first book of the Bible. Adam and Eve blow it in the Garden of Eden and Paradise is Lost. The humans God has created are so toxic that God has to flood almost all of them out and start over. THEN, the people get the crazy notion to build a tower so that they can be as great as God. We end up with God’s people scattered and confused by the end of the 11th chapter, and while we’re introduced to Abraham, we learn that he is old and that his wife is barren—so we’re not pinning any great hope on them either.
But then in Chapter 12, it all begins to turn around with God’s promise to Abraham. At the center of this promise is the use of the word “bless”. It’s important that we understand just how powerful a blessing was in the world of Ancient Israel. In that world there was no concept of what we would call luck, nor was there any idea in a set of natural law operating on its own. In that context, a “blessing” was a way to describe all human well-being in relation to God as creator. There is the call of Abraham to leave what he knows and to venture out into the unknown. It is a call that is followed by a blessing. I will make you a great nation. I will bless you. I will make you great. And here’s the kicker—so that YOU WILL BE A BLESSING.
Not I will make you great so that you might eat, drink and be merry. Not I will make you great so that the world can see what I the great and powerful Yahweh can do. But I will bless you so that you will be a blessing.
This is one of the most profound theological concepts in scripture. Here is the revelation from God that God has chosen to work in the world through human agents—through a chosen people. Not that God is helpless without humanity or that humans are given some sort of divine status. But that God has chosen to give humans the responsibility of mediating the blessing of God to the world. Whoa.
Blessed so that we will be a blessing.
How does that play into how we think about blessing or how we pray and worship?
What if our children learned this idea early on—blessed so that we might be a blessing. Can you imagine how prayers might change? Instead of a nightly prayer of God bless me and mommy and daddy and grandma and grandpa, the prayer might become God bless me so that I will bless my friends. God bless mommy and daddy so that they will bless each other. God bless grandma and grandpa so that they will bless their children and grandchildren. Not only is that a different kind of prayer, it’s a different kind of relationship with God.
What if—as a nation—we sang “God bless America so that America will bless the world?” It would be a very different kind of song indeed, wouldn’t it? Instead of being a super power, we would have to become a serving power. Can you imagine a world in which Americans saw our prosperity, our technology and our standard of living as a mandate to serve the world at large? Such a world might come the closest we humans could get to creating the Kingdom here on earth.
Blessed so that we will be a blessing.
What about us as individuals? I hesitate to tell wives and mom to pray to be blessed so that you will be a blessing. So often, this particular population translates "being a blessing" into making sure everyone but YOU is taken care of. But wanting to be a blessing doesn't mean being a better cook, maid, bellhop and chauffer. It means living into all that God has called you to be. It means you desire to be fully you.
Blessed so that we will be a blessing.
Many centuries ago, an old man received a call. In a bold move, he left what was familiar and what was comfortable and ventured out into a new frontier with only a promise. He set out with weary legs, a barren wife and only a few possessions.
But this man, who was faithful enough to venture into uncharted territory, gave birth to a nation, and from that nation came a savior, and from that savior came a church and from that church come people who are committed to following Christ and answering Abraham’s call.
One man who knew that he was blessed and was willing to venture into the unknown in order to also be a blessing.
We gather here today a blessed people. We are also a bold people, having already left our home for a foreign land. Where are we willing to go? What are we willing to risk? How will we be a blessing to the world?
Prayer:
Close your eyes and think of someone who has been a blessing to you. It can be someone who blessed you long ago or someone who blessed you just yesterday.
Offer thanks for that person.
Now think of a person for whom you have been a blessing. Offer thanks for that person and for the opportunity to make a difference in his or her life.
Now imagine a door before you. Imagine that behind that door is the path through which you will encounter your next blessing. Ask God to open that door for you and help you to be open to all the possibilities that lie ahead.
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