Clocking In

Mark 1:29-39

As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him. In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, "Everyone is searching for you." He answered, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do." And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

I, like many of you, am no stranger to fevers. A year ago this month I traveled to Tampa, Florida for a conference and came down with what I thought was food poisoning, on the very first night I was there. I couldn’t think of anything else that could make me so sick, so quickly, for I was in bed for three days with a very high fever, night chills, and the expulsion of some really inhumane bodily fluids. It took me about two weeks to fully recover, until I encountered the same illness just two months later in April. This prompted a trip to a gastroenterologist, and an eventual colonoscopy, but these tests returned negative results.

Tampa Convention Center

My next business trip in July returned me to Tampa again, where I suffered the same fate; three days in bed with a near visit to the hospital. But I persevered, and since I did not want to be stuck in the hospital in such a foreign country, I made my flight home; clutching the barf bag throughout the next 6 hours.  My doctor became increasingly concerned and ordered CAT scans and X-rays trying to locate the cause of my symptoms.

While waiting for these results I fell ill again in August for a period of three weeks, this time suffering a fever of 104 degrees for two and three days at a time. Perplexed and bewildered, my doctor sent me to several specialists trying to identify a diagnosis and possible treatment. Throughout September and October I gave up at least a dozen vials of blood for testing, several more expensive computer imaging scans, lost 20 pounds, and racked up more medical bills than I’ve had in the last 30 years combined. When I came to preach for you last fall I was uncertain about my health, and my family and friends grew concerned for my well-being.

Now even as I retell my story I can almost re-experience the emotional desperation during that health crisis. And I know that many of you have probably experienced this same fear, and are perhaps struggling with serious health issues now. And I bring all this up this morning to help us empathize with our gospel story. By the time Jesus leaves the synagogue for Simon's house, he's already a sensation, but Simon's mother-in-law is too sick to notice. This is no cold or flu, but a fever that endangers her life, isolates her from the community, and prevents her from fulfilling her role and duties at home.

Now there are a few words in our text that have very unique meanings in the Greek that we don’t quite get in an English translation. First, the Greek word for being sick with a fever is pyressousa. The root word is pyre, which means fire. Webster’s dictionary gives two definitions for fever:

1. (n.) A diseased state of the system, marked by increased heat, acceleration of the pulse, and a general derangement of the functions, including usually, thirst and loss of appetite. Well, that could sound like a church council meeting.

But the second definition is; 2. (n.) Excessive excitement of passion in consequence of strong emotion; or a condition of great excitement. This definition reminds me of a condition suggested in Peggy Lee’s 1958 hit, “Fever.”

Never know how much I love you; never know how much I care. When you put your arms around me, you give me fever that's so hard to bear. You give me fever, when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight. Fever, in the morning, fever all though the night.

But, to the audience of Mark’s gospel, it was demonic forces that were usually attributed to fever. You will notice verse 31 says that the fever “left her” upon her healing; as if some hostile entity was to blame. So to the ancient community hearing this story their immediate assumption is probably that something is spiritually wrong with Simon’s mother-in-law.

The second interesting thing in our text is in verse 29; the Greek word for house is oikia. Now that’s not Ikea, but it is close. Oikia describes more than just a physical structure, but a meeting space for family and relatives, a privileged place of the community. It is in this communal place that Jesus heals Simon’s mother-in-law. The same Greek verb that describes Jesus action of lifting her up is the same verb for Jesus’ resurrection at the end of Mark.  But more importantly is the response of Simon’s mother-in-law in verse 31; and immediately she begins to serve them.

Diakonisa

The Greek term here is diakonisa, which is where we get the term deacon and deaconess; service is the key topic in the call and pursuit of Jesus. Notice that Jesus did not command her, but it was her response to being healed. She responds to this gift with service. We cannot interpret this service as some kind of menial work, but as true messianic ministry. She becomes Jesus’ first deacon; the first servant of the church of Jesus. She understands the message of the Jesus’ Gospel even before the disciples get it.

What makes this healing so beautiful is because it happens in a home; the oikia which reflects the earliest Christian communities, were house churches. These meetings in homes made the life of the community possible; they were the missionary platforms, a welcome place for itinerant preachers, and they provided economic support for the growing Christian movement. Christianity was nurtured and affirmed in these social, not sacred spaces. The Jesus movement spread in daily life, in small communities where service to others was the mark of the Gospel. Simon’s mother-in-law understood this long before any of the male disciples of Jesus did.

This story raises a question that we all struggle with. How can we belong to our community of faith if we can't find our place, or fulfill our role? The structure and purpose of church has evolved quite a bit over the last two thousand years. The reasons for being a part of a worshiping community in the first century after the death of Jesus are probably quite different from our reasons in the 21^st century. You see, from the moment of Jesus’ first day of ministry he and his followers were on dangerous ground. Once Jesus spoke those first words at his baptism he became a heretic, an outlaw, a marked man. Jesus knew the danger he was in. Throughout the gospel of Mark Jesus continually tells his followers and those healed by him, not to speak a word of those miracles to anyone. He repeatedly talked about his impending death. And I personally believe that he tried to put off the inevitable for as long as possible until he could spread his message as far and as wide as was possible. He knew he had a job to do, and he wanted to complete that God given vocation. He was intentional about “clocking in” on God’s ministry time card.

What strikes me about today’s gospel text is the tenacity in which Jesus followed that calling. If we were to imagine his ministry as a time card, then he never really clocked out. He never stopped ministering to the sick and those afflicted by evil. The text says he healed their sick bodies and expelled the evil spirits. He did this until late in the night—and then got up early before dawn to pray and recharge his spiritual power.

Simon’s mother-in-law is a central figure in the text because it gives us a model for following Jesus. Jesus took her hand and lifted her up from the bed. And at that moment her fever of the body turned into a passion for service. Jesus took away her diseased state and gave her a new spiritual fervor, a passionate emotional response to serving this new family of faith.

I finally received a long awaited diagnosis in early December last year after suffering 10 months of such a strange and baffling illness. An infectious disease specialist discovered that I had a parasitic micro-organism called giardia, often called the travelers bug. 10 days on prescription medicine and my body was cleansed, and my health was restored…including the 20 pounds that I had lost. And while a quick fix may not be the remedy for the dis-eases that plague our communities and our world, I do believe that the touch of Jesus is the cure for what ails us. All throughout the gospels Jesus touches the troubled and tormented with his compassion and love and they are healed from their afflictions and reconciled to their community, just like Simon’s mother-in-law. And their response is to always serve their healer.

Let us be as Jesus; touching our world with compassion and turning them into followers of the Christ. As each of us commit to daily clocking into our responsibility as Christ-bearers, then the walls of our churches will not be able to contain his disciples. Jesus is the incarnation of God’s love, and for some people, you might be the only Jesus they will ever meet.

You know, Peggy Lee was on the right track. But let me sing it the Jesus way.

They’ll never know how much you love them; never know how much you care. You’ve gotta put your loving arms around them, give them a fever they have longed to share.

Give them God’s fever, when you touch them, fever when you hold them tight. Fever, in the morning, fever all though the night.
Fever, not just on Sunday, but fever all though the week.
Fever, in our homes and fever in the way we speak.
Fever, at our work and fever shining bright with light.
Fever, in the morning, fever all through the night.

Fever! And everybody said, Amen!

Let us pray.
O God of our being, we recognize and celebrate the fevers that Jesus takes away, and the passion he gives us in return.  Thank you for the signs of his love and commitment to making us servants of his kingdom. Open our eyes so that we may see the opportunities for serving our world. Empower us that we may be Christ’s hands and feet in the ongoing labor of caring and compassion. Let us never deride or put down those opportunities for humble service. But give us patience and humility that we need in order to do our daily work with joy. In all things, teach us to respond in love and not hate. And grant us the ability to show others the way to your grace. In the name of the one who showed us the way—Amen!

Leaving the Nets

Mark 1:14-20
 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

The evening conversation around the dinner table that night began the same as every night. It had been a long day—12 hours on the lake in the hot sun—arms aching and the stench of raw fish hanging in the air. Salome slapped the top of John’s hand as it reached into the hot skillet to sample the sizzling sardine steaks. “Stop that, Jonathon! How can a son be so incorrigible?” she scowled—releasing a smirk across her mouth. “Mother—it’s been a long day. I’m tired and hungry—please throw me a scrap from your delicious cuisine!” “Ack, Ack! Wash your hands young man. And then set the table.”

John kissed his mother on the forehead as he snatched a smoldering olive from the skillet. “Love you Mom!” And off to the cleaning basin he went. At about that time James came through the door with his wife Phoebe and little Joel in tow. “Grandma!” the boy toddler exclaimed running into Salome’s arms. “My little grandson—how big you are getting! Phoebe, what are you feeding this child?” “The same as you fed me, Momma—fish and bread.” James cut in. “What else is a fisherman’s family to eat?”

“James—such disrespect for your mother,” Phoebe replied with a condescending grin. “Don’t pay attention to him, Mother. I fix him the same—and there are no complaints. Are there my dear husband?” she flashed her eyes. “No my love,” James responded. Fish and bread are good for the likes of one so in love—with a fisherman’s wife like you.” “You see, Salome,” Phoebe smiled. “Your son has been made respectable!”

Salome and Phoebe laughed together. Nothing was so sweet as the combined collaboration of a mother and her daughter-in-law. In fact, no man could match the collective power of that kind of feminine energy. Salome and Phoebe continued the preparation of the evening meal as James began to set the table. “Father,” little Joel asked. “Yes, Son?” answered James as he pulled tin plates from the cupboard.” “Why do we eat fish all the time?”

Joel was turning 5 next week. Although his mother didn’t allow him to follow his father to work on the lake—he often listened to the stories of the fishermen, told by his uncle John, with awe and wonder. “Fishing is an honorable profession,” James said, lifting Joel upon his lap as he sat down at the crude wooden table. “My father was a fisherman, as well as my grandfather. And I suspect you will be one someday—just like me and your Uncle John and the rest of our family. And if that is so, then eating the fish that you catch yourself is an honor too. You see, we fishermen provide good things to eat for many, many people—especially to people that can’t always work for themselves. You’ll learn more about it when you start school at the synagogue next year. Now, go wash your hands—and find out where your Uncle John is.”

Joel jumped off James’s lap and scampered outside. Phoebe slipped her arms around James’s neck and kissed him on the head. “You are a good father, my husband—now time for you to wash those dirty fishermen’s hands.” “Yes, dear” and James followed his son outside.

“He looks tired,” Salome reflected. “Do you think something is wrong?” “I don’t know,” Phoebe answered. “He has been quiet today. Perhaps something is going on at the docks.”

“What is this about the docks?” Startled by the booming voice Phoebe and Salome screamed as Zebedee entered the kitchen and slammed the door behind him. “Zebedee!” exclaimed Salome. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for your return and dinner is just coming to the table.”

“Speaking of the docks—just some trouble to contend with. I’ve been meeting with some of the other business owners after pulling in the nets for the night.” “What is the matter?” Salome questioned her husband. “Oh, nothing too alarming. It seems that some of the fleet have unexpectedly closed their fishing business. I’m not sure who it is yet, but we are looking into it. An announcement is coming tomorrow concerning reallocation of fishing quotas.” Salome grabbed her husband by the waist. “Why would anyone do such a thing? With the Romans exorcising more taxes on us, and businesses losing so many servants to military enlistment, you would imagine that anyone having a good paying job would stay with it.” “Not to worry, my wife. We will just have to increase our own efforts to make up the quotas. More fish for us to catch means more denari in our pockets. Our boys will be up to the challenge. Speaking of our boys, where is my little grandson?”

“Grandpapa!” shouted Joel as he ran into the kitchen followed by James and John. “Well! Here are my strapping sons to share my table.” “And me too!” Joel yelled. “And don’t forget your beautiful and kind daughter-in-law!” Phoebe laughed, pecking Zebedee on the cheek. “Now enough child’s play!” Salome exclaimed. “Everyone, sit down, sit down. Husband—bring us the blessing!”

After a second of scrambling for chairs, all were seated around the weathered wooden table. Zebedee grabbed the hands of his wife and grandson and bowed his head. “Sh'ma Yisrael Adonai Elohaynu Adonai Echad. Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. Your gifts of plenty bring seasons of thankfulness. And may our thankfulness inspire new gifts from you. Amen.”

“Amen!” the family echoed—and dinner began as Salome passed the platter of freshly fried fish around the table. “Have you noticed a decrease in musht over the last few hauls recently?” James asked his father. “I heard it was from the unusual winds coming from the Galilee hills,” John interrupted. “They say the storms will be the worst ever this spring. Fish don’t like storms.”

“I think it’s the young fishermen that don’t like storms,” laughed James. “I’m not afraid” John quipped back. “How could anyone be afraid of a little wind and rain?” “Well, I don’t think it’s the wind or the storms,” James reflected. “It’s the Romans.” “James!” Phoebe whispered in a quiet shout. “You mustn’t speak so. There are spies everywhere. You know what happens to dissenters now that Caiphas and Pilate are bedfellows.” “I’m not afraid of the Romans! Or the pompous Pharisees,” John blurted. “How long will we let these foreign mongrels and their puppet priests dictate what we discuss or how we live?”

“Enough!” Zebedee exploded. “Not in my house. We will eat tonight without speaking of such things.” The room became silent with the exception of clinking spoons and knives on tin plates. Quietly a tiny voice pierced the silence. “What’s a mongrel?” asked Joel. John turned to his nephew and smiled. “A mongrel is just a fancy name for a dog, Joel.” “I like dogs!” Joel replied. “Dogs get to do anything they want. Sleep outside. Play in the street. Take baths in the lake. And I bet they don’t have to eat fish every night!”

Laughter exploded around the table. “Yes, my grandson.” Zebedee smiled. “The life of a dog can be very—care free!” Seconds passed without conversation. The night was closing in and a new day was just hours away. But James knew he needed to say something. The anxiety gripped his stomach as he struggled to form his words, when out of the blue John spoke up.

“Andrew and Simon left their nets today.” James looked at his brother and sighed. The easy part was over, but now came the tough conversation he and his brother discussed having with their father. “What do you mean they left their nets today?” Zebedee raised his eyebrow. “Father, they’ve left the business,” James answered. Salome gasped, “Andrew and Simon? But why? Where did they go? What will they do? What about their families? Does their father, Jonas know? Did you talk to them?”

“Woman, let them speak!” Zebedee shouted. “Tell me son. What happened?” “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” James continued. “We were mending our nets after pulling in the last haul for the day and we saw Jesus approach them from the shore. “Jesus? You mean my sister, Mary’s son? Your cousin Jesus? He’s here from Nazareth?” Salome asked. “Yes, he’s here!” John replied. “We heard Jesus was with John the Baptist and his disciples in the wilderness. But today he was walking along the beach and came up to Andrew and Simon and…” ”What John? What happened?” Salome cried. “Jesus told Andrew and Simon to follow him. He said that he would make them fishers of people. He told them to leave their nets and help him build God’s kingdom.”

“But how?” Salome asked in shock. “How will they live? What about their families? They can’t just leave the family business? What is Jesus going to do with them?” “Now, Salome!” Zebedee interrupted. “You can’t expect these boys to know everything that happened. I’m sure there is a logical explanation for the whole thing! Maybe Jesus just wanted a job. I’m sure they could use a few more hired hands on their boat, right sons?” he turned towards James and John. A long pause drifted across the room as Zebedee looked into his son’s eyes—and then down at the table. “He asked you too—didn’t he?” Zebedee looked up at James and John. “Yes, Father” James answered. “Jesus asked us to follow him too. And we are. We leave tomorrow for Capernaum.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow—for Capernaum? Did you know this Phoebe?” “Yes, Salome. I did know. We’ve discussed it, and Joel and I are going with James.” “I’m going to!” John added. “But how? How can you leave your father? How can you follow this man? How will you live? What will you do?” Salome could take no more as she jumped from the table and fled into the bedroom. The table fell silent. After a moment Zebedee stood up from the table and walked behind his boys, laying his hands on each of their shoulder. “You are good men,” he began. “And times are very different now than when I was your age. Yahweh’s people have been enslaved by evil influences. Our religious and government leaders value power over peace and use our sacred texts as weapons against us. I didn’t bring you into this world to be oppressed by it. And I hope that this man, your cousin Jesus can liberate us from it.”

James and John stood up from the table and embraced Zebedee. “We love you, Father” they said through tears. “You’ve taught us well—to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. And even though we are no longer fishermen, we will continue to cast our nets for God’s kingdom.”

Let us pray. Lord, we sit here today, in this community of teachers and bankers, caretakers of children and business executives, students and administrators, musicians and ministers, teachers and preachers—contemplating a gospel text that challenges us in our day jobs. Just like fishing was to the disciples—we work in our chosen professions and hear your call to become more. We hear your call to become disciples of Christ—to dive into mission and ministry to the world. Give us the fast reflexes of those first four disciples—Simon, Andrew, James and John. There’s a part of us that hesitates, afraid to get out of our boats; fearful of setting aside our roles and personas. We know that your call may come at any time to leave behind our comfort zones and respond to needs we never expected.

But in that moment, give us the courage to make the immediate decision to follow Jesus—and become who you challenge us to be, setting aside the temptation to accumulate possessions, or accomplishments, or degrees, or labels that attempt to bring us a sense of worth or value. Instead, reveal to us the opportunities in our own lives that will engage us in a deeper journey with you. For we know that it isn’t what we do, that makes us your blessed children, but who you created us to be in each moment of our life. And all God’s people said, “Amen.”

Truth or Consequences

John 1:43-51 
The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael asked him, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

So imagine this scenario…you are sitting in a meeting with other folks from work, or at a monthly organizational gathering of a fraternal or social club of which you are a member, or perhaps its sitting on a church committee or sub-committee…when that certain someone, that person who is always pointing out the negative in every situation blurts out, “NO…there is no way that that idea could work because we tried it before, and it didn’t work then and it won’t work now…so we might as well not even bother!” If you had a nickel for every time, right? 

 
Now I love to get a good laugh out of people like that…especially when it’s on television and not real life…but it does beg the question…how do we deal with the naysayers in our midst? How to we establish mutually respectful relationships with those that always put the brakes on when it comes to change, or progress or even critical evaluation?

 
Now, you wouldn’t normally think of the Jesus narratives in the gospels dealing with the issue of critical people…but our text today gives us much insight into the way Jesus dealt with the ego in himself and others. Our story could be a script for the television show “The Office.” Jesus leaves one incredible impression on Philip after being introduced to him by his friends Andrew and Peter from Bethsaida. And as Philip runs home to tell his friends about this experience he encounters Nathanael. Excitedly, Philip tells him about this Jesus he met earlier in the day. “We found him! The one Moses wrote about in our sacred scriptures. He’s the Messiah! And it’s Jesus, you know, Joseph’s son…the guy from Nazareth.”

Now we really don’t know much about Nathanael, but it appears from his response that he’s one of those “kind” of people. “What? Nazareth? You’ve got to be kidding…what good could come out of Nazareth?” It seems from this interaction that Nathanael is one of those critical curmudgeons…”crackpots” as my Mom used to call them. He’s the guy or girl that always finds the negative in every situation. He’s the “Dwight Schrute” of the office. And he is somebody so different than anybody else Jesus has called before that he seems to stick out like a sore thumb.

 

Think about it…he’s not like one of those naive kids, Jimmy and Johnny, who had their "momma" ask Jesus for special treatment for themselves. He’s definitely not like Thomas who was wishy washy about what he did or didn’t believe. Wasn’t like Peter either, who regularly opened his mouth in order to insert his own foot into it. Nathanael knew exactly what he thought about everything and wasn’t afraid to tell you so. And when Philip suggested that this new prophet was God's gift to Israel, Nathanael just rolled his eyes. “Nazareth? You’re kidding, right? Can anything good come out of Nazareth?"

 And here’s where the story really gets interesting. Nathanael wasn't saying anything that any good Jew wasn’t already thinking. The fact is; Nazareth was no place any decent Jew would ever want to go, or claim to be from. It’s not that Nazareth was some dump or a hole in the middle of nowhere. It was in fact a suburb of the largest city in Galilee, Sepphoris…one of the capitals of Herod’s government. In fact, some scholars believe that Jesus and his father Joseph probably worked on its re-construction as skilled tradesmen. It’s not that Jesus was some country bumpkin, but according to Nathanael, Jesus was too close to what proud Israelites considered traitor-country. He and his friends wouldn't be caught dead there. All Nazarenes consorted with the enemy.

 It would be like someone from Michigan trying out for OSU’s football team. You’d always suspect that a football player from Michigan might have some ulterior motive, some potential for sabotage. Can anything good come out of Ann Arbor?


 You see, Nathanael was a cynic. A cynic with a sharp tongue, to boot, probably with his eyeglasses sitting on the end of his nose with a proverbial look of disgust. And once Jesus lays eyes on him, once he gets a really good look at this old coot, he responds in such a wonderful way. "Behold, an Israelite in whom there is no guile.” The Message translation says, “Now there’s a real Israelite, not a false bone in his body.” It reminds me of Mike Myer’s character on SNL…Linda Richman…who could not sugar coat the truth even if you paid her. And this quip…this quirky elbow jab stops old Nathanael in his tracks. With his jaw hanging open, he looks this young whipper-snapper up and down and fires back, "And just how do you know me?"


 “Why, I had you spotted coming a mile away, long before Philip dragged you here," Jesus says to him, winking at him with one eye. And whatever it was that Nathanael took from that exchange, he became a convert right there on the spot. Jesus had this wonderful way of speaking truth in a loving way that cut through all of the illusions and drama that existed in his relationships and got right to the point. He could separate the roles and personas from who that person really was…and connect directly to the essence of their being.

 One of my favorite authors, Eckert Tolle, says that there is no real conceptual answer for the question, “Who am I?” But the moment that we stop having to answer that question for ourselves, we become open to the oneness of all of life…the essence of our being. For the need to define or label who we are, to have a clear understanding of our sense of self, is the work of our ego. And when the ego encounters other egos it doesn’t like…it comes into conflict. And that’s when drama happens. He says, “Whatever you react to in another, you strengthen in yourself.” That’s why when you observe someone complaining about someone or some situation, it is a clear sign that they are trying to validate…and strengthen that tendency within themselves. I always try to keep an inner ear open to my own complaints. It helps me identify the things within myself that need healing or understanding. While complaining might be the process of strengthening the ego, resentment is the real emotional response.

Nathanael couldn’t believe anything good could come out of Nazareth. Perhaps someone had said the same about him? Maybe his distain of the Roman occupation had hardened his heart to any shred of hope that things could be any different. And what did Jesus do, he spoke truth to Nathanael in a loving way that melted the icy walls of resentment. “Now here comes someone who will tell the truth about anything!” Jesus says. His response teaches us that the best way to break free from these egoist structures is by not-reacting. And non-reaction produces forgiveness. Now I’m not talking about indifference, but about the process of seeing others for who they are on the inside…not who they project themselves to be on the outside. And every person deep inside is a child of God, asking for healing, love and transformation whether they can vocalize it or not.

Sometimes we get so accustomed to defending our right to be right, that we begin to believe we’re never supposed to be wrong. And being wrong reminds us that we are human. And being human is just where the ego wants us to stay. Awareness of our collective humanity is the beginning of our transformation, the raising of our own consciousness, and the evolution of our entire species.

There is one absolute truth. That truth emanates from the source of our very being…it is the Christ within us. Jesus spoke of it as the “I AM,” the way, the truth and the life – that which was, is now and always will be; that which is timeless. Eastern religions acknowledge it within each of us with the greeting “Namaste.” We do it in Protestantism by passing the peace of Christ to each other.


Barry Robinson suggests that "in the church we need folks who are not afraid to speak the truth to each other…even if they're wrong. It just doesn’t seem to be appropriate any more. It doesn’t make for a smooth facilitation. It makes the meeting run longer than we want it to. We aren’t comfortable with the power-struggle between competing players. It’s something to mediate, not learn from; to handle, not be transformed by. So concerned have we become about being fair to everyone that we are no longer concerned about the content of what is being said. We get caught up in interpersonal politics; not critical debate. It is why curmudgeons and cynics are no longer welcome in religious communities. They tend to disrupt the conspiracy of cordiality. They make us uncomfortable with what we are prepared to condone. It is why we tend to leave them outside. There was a time in Israel when they were invited in, when scolding was an instrument of tradition, not a threat to it; when the absence of guile was valued over the easy deceits we tend to rationalize. Perhaps it was why Jesus himself couldn't wait to have someone like Nathanael on his team; somebody who wasn't afraid of heartfelt emotions. For there are values that are worth defending, truths that must be acknowledged and drama that needs to be exposed."

 So many people leave the church because they “don’t like the politics.” But politics is people. People cause conflict. And conflict is the course for change. For churches that are in transition, naysayers keep us honest. Their opinions often hold some kernels of truth in them; truth that is seldom ever spoken out loud. If we are not willing to hear the truth now, then we will most likely suffer the consequences later!

What good can come from Nazareth? We all come from Nazareth, when we endeavor to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. And that is a truth worth telling. Amen.

(Excerpts from Ian Lawton’s presentation, “Lesson Three: Sin & Evil” - www.christ-community.net  and Barry J. Robinson’s sermon, “Give Me an Old Scold Any Day” from January 19, 2003 – www.fernstone.org).

The Gospel Symbols of Christmas: Gift-Wrapped Presents

Luke 1:26-38

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her,“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.


I like presents. No…that’s an understatement…I love getting presents. In fact, I don’t just celebrate the day of my birthday; I celebrate the entire month of my birthday. And for me, the Christmas season is the epitome of a surprise birthday party. The anticipation of putting up the Christmas tree in my living room; shopping for presents for my family and loved ones; wrapping each gift and envisioning the look on its future owner’s face as it is opened. Now I admit, while I love giving presents…it really is so very exciting to get them. I mean, really, we all can be a little self-indulgent sometimes!

I will never forget Christmas morning as a child. I loved it. I would sneak out of bed on Christmas Eve night and sit in front of the Christmas tree, watching the lights twinkle and…count my presents under the tree.  But I didn’t just count my presents, I counted everyone’s presents. One particular Christmas Eve, I was around 10 years old; I counted all of my siblings’ gifts. I went as far as putting everyone’s presents in little piles on the living room floor…and counted every one of them. One particular Christmas Eve I discovered an upsetting surprise. All of my brothers and sisters each had eleven gifts…except for me. I only had ten.

Now even as I retell this story, I feel a bit guilty. Not because I counted them, but because of what I did that next morning. I certainly expected after everyone had opened their presents, my eleventh present was hidden somewhere, either in a closet, or out in the garage. And just at the right moment, when all of the gifts had been unwrapped…Dad would emerge from his bedroom with my amazing, exciting, exhilarating…and very expensive, eleventh gift. I was just sure of it. And I just knew that this eleventh gift was a bright, shiny new bicycle. Not one of those little tike bikes that was no taller than my waist, but an adult sized bike. This was my year. I was ready for that bike.

I waited with anticipation…unwrapping each of my gifts…still thinking of what lay beyond my pile of presents. And yet when all was said and done, the living room floor full of wrapping paper and toys and gifts scattered about…there was no surprise eleventh gift for me. I sat there in the middle of the floor, a bit stunned and anxious. But wait, something’s wrong I thought. I went over to the tree, surveyed underneath its tinsel covered branches, looked behind the couch, peered into the closet, searched through my own collection of gifts…perhaps I had missed it. I couldn’t hold my grief and disappointment any longer. “Mom” I exclaimed, “Is that all there is? I only have 10 gifts and everyone else has 11 gifts each!”  Why, I thought I was making a fair claim. Something was not right. I had been wronged. Surely things were not as they seemed. I demanded an explanation!

Well, our gospel text today suggests that there was someone else that really needed an explanation, probably more than me. Can you imagine what was going through Mary’s mind when she got this strange news from the angel Gabriel? Right from the start it seemed like an odd kind of salutation. “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you! Do not be afraid for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.” Found favor? Are you kidding me? Getting pregnant by someone other than the man she was engaged to was a death sentence for the likes of Mary. In ancient Palestine the amount of an engaged woman’s dowry was based on maintaining celibacy before the wedding. She could have been stoned to death as punishment for being unfaithful. But what is even more shocking than that? Even knowing all of these potential consequences, Mary said yes to the angel. She said yes to bearing the child that would reign over the house of Jacob; the one who would become the long awaited King of Israel. Mary did two important things in this text that is relevant for us today; she believed and she chose. She believed in the good news she was given by the angel in spite of the desperate situation it would put her in. And she chose to respond to what was being asked of her. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord;” Mary said. “Let it be with me according to your word.”

Belief and choice are the two most powerful gifts we have been given as creations in God’s image. In fact, some progressive theologians suggest that being made in the “imago dei,” or in “the image of God” means we have the same creative ability as God does. We are “co-creators” with God of our lives and our reality. This ancient formula for creation was that God thought it, then God said it, and it was became reality. Belief + Choice = Creation.

Now believing in something might seem easy to do, but you really don’t know what you believe until you choose to act in accordance with that belief. Most of us recognize the importance that belief makes in the successful accomplishment of any endeavor. Whether you believe you can or can’t, you will probably be right. Mary teaches us in this text that developing a self-image based on positive expectancy and positive belief cannot be left to chance. Too many of us have been conditioned to believe in fear, shame, guilt, and scarcity.

We’ve heard so many negative messages and learned from negative experiences that belief doesn’t make much of a difference anymore. We only believe what we can see. Most churches are dwindling in attendance because there is fear that the good old days of overflowing sanctuaries, generous giving and magnificent mission work are over for good. The messages have even been ingrained in us. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew,” “Don’t try to be somebody you’re not,” “Don’t risk too much, you might lose,” or “This is too good to last.” We are conditioned in so many instances to look to our weaknesses than to our strengths—to look at problems rather than opportunities. But positive belief and positive expectancy can be developed by choice, and once developed; they will lead you to whatever you want.
(Excerpts from Terry McBride’s DVD course, “Everybody Wins” at www.terrymcbride.info)

Now hear me clearly about this. I am not talking about some new age concept like “The Secret” or a motivational seminar on the power of positive thinking. These popular self-improvement movements are secular versions of this Gospel truth. This is about acknowledging and using a gift that God has given to each of us; being created in God’s image. And that image is co-creator of our life and our world. Jesus tells us in Matthew 21:22 “And if you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.” The season of Advent is about positive expectancy; expecting that we can have power over our lives and we can change our world. We are changed by first believing in the simple self-emptying gift that God gave to us, and then choosing to give ourselves wholly and completely back to God.

Belief + choice = creation.

During the past four weeks we’ve been unpacking the significance of the Gospel symbols of Christmas. From the hope of new life symbolized by the greenery hanging in our church and homes; to remembering our baptism through the new falling snow of Winter; followed by the twinkle bulbs and candles representing the light of awareness that shines brightly in our hearts and minds; and landing today at the base of our Christmas tree, cluttered with gifts and presents we’ve offered to each other and to this community. The Christmas tree comes from an old Germanic custom where bringing a tree into the house was like bringing God into the house. Offerings to God were adorned on the branches as ornaments. This custom evolved into putting wrapped gifts under the tree that are intended for those that we love. These are gifts that draw our attention to who and what is really important in our lives. Our connection to everyone around us is the gift we celebrate. And it is simply called ‘presence.’

I never did get an eleventh gift on that Christmas day 38 years ago. As you can imagine, my parents were not too happy with me. After all, they had given me more than they could really afford. And of course the uneven number of presents wasn’t intentional. What was intentional was their love for me even in the midst of my self-centeredness. I learned a valuable lesson then…that has hopefully stuck with me now.

It’s not what you get…

but what you give that blesses you.

What priceless gift do you possess that may seem worthless on the outside? What can you give as an expression of your love for the Christ-child? It may be a positive word or smile for that depressed or grouchy person in your life. I could be a warm embrace for the unlovable relative, or a kind word for the sarcastic or hateful comment thrown in your direction. It may simply be believing in the potential of a wayward child, grandchild or sibling, even when they can’t believe it themselves. It could even be a church believing they have the ability to do great things for their community in their hometown, even when the future is uncertain. Saying yes with these seemingly valueless gifts can miraculously transform any situation or relationship this Christmas.

There is one present that I got that Christmas morning that I still have today. It’s these old cowboy boots. Boot that I’ve worn since I was 10 years old. These are the boots that carried me through some rough times in junior high and high school. They took me into the Air Force and a transfer to Germany. They brought me back to the U.S., protected me as I wandered and worked in some dangerous places, led me to college, transported me while I traveled, gave me a kick in the pants when I needed to go to seminary, and eventually led me on my journey to you. Yeah, these boots were made for walkin’. And I would have missed out on their specialness had I stayed asleep and kept looking for that eleventh gift. What’s the surprise gift on this fourth Sunday of Advent? That a baby is coming—to love the world. I for one, hope to stay awake for that! Amen.

(Excerpts from Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Don’t Go to Sleep on Me” for November 27, 2005 – www.fernstone.org)

The Gospel Symbols of Christmas: Twinkle Bulbs and Candlelights

John 1:6-8, 19-28
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” as the prophet Isaiah said. Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.

When it comes to watching Christmas movies and holiday themed TV shows this time of year, I admit I am a bit of a junkie. I have to watch the old Christmas stand-bys…”A Christmas Story,” “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” and one of my favorites, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” But I like to surf through some of the cable channels for something different occasionally.

I was particularly intrigued by a show on HGTV this past week about extreme Christmas lights in America. One of the most extreme Christmas decorations are by the Faucher family in Delaware who have been merrily setting a neighborhood standard for 23 years - decking their halls with an astonishing one million Christmas lights. It's an impressive sight to say the least - and even more so when you consider what it must cost. Assuming that each one of the one million bulbs is an average five watt C7 bulb, the cost of keeping the lights on for one hour is roughly $686. If the Fauchers keep their display lit for four hours a night for 30 nights that means they are racking up an astonishing bill of $82,320. That is a lot of Christmas spirit.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1338033/The-house-MILLION-Christmas-lights.html#ixzz1fgPcpANr

So in keeping with our sermon theme, I wondered what are the customs and traditions behind this decorating craze. You might be interested in knowing that the festival of lights is almost as old as the church herself. From ancient times light has symbolized faith and intelligence. It has been a symbol of Christian joy which was adopted to dispel the darkness associated with paganism. Torches, watch fires, beacon lights, lamps and candles often accompanied joyous occasions and festivities in antiquity. In fact, the Romans, during their celebration of a festival called Saturnalia in December, would fasten candles to trees, indicating the sun’s return to the earth. The Jewish people started celebrating the 8-day Feast of Lights, known as Hanukkah, commemorating their victory for religious freedom from the Greeks nearly two centuries before the dawn of Christ.

And early Christians adopted many of these rituals, reinterpreting them to symbolize Christ as the light of the world. As early as 492 C.E., the Pope established Candle-mas Day as the time for blessing candles in churches. In medieval Europe the custom arose of lighting a giant Christmas candle that would shed its glow on the festivities until Twelfth-night. Martin Luther is credited for first placing tapers on the Christmas tree.
(Herbert Wernecke, Christmas Customs Around the World. Louisville: Westminster Press)

In 1882, the first Christmas tree was lit by the use of electricity. Edward Johnson lit up a Christmas tree in New York City with eighty small electric light bulbs. It didn’t take long for Johnson to create the first string of electric Christmas lights that were then mass produced around 1890. By 1900, department stores started using the new Christmas lights for their Christmas displays.
http://inventors.about.com/od/cstartinventions/a/Xmas_Lights.htm

I was very excited to put up my Christmas decorations and twinkle lights this year. But there’s nothing worse than this happening…nothing more frustrating than a half lit string of twinkle lights. I even tested each and every unlit bulb and still could not get them to work. Until, I found a tiny split in one of the wires. Now I’m not an electrician, but fixing this seemed pretty easy. So I stripped both ends of the plastic casing, reconnected the tiny copper wires, and wrapped it tightly with black electrical tape. And…nothing. Seems my elementary electrical skills were not advanced enough to make this work.

I am definitely not an electrician.

And sometimes it is helpful to remember who you are not.

That is probably the most important message of this morning's gospel. It deals with the question of John’s identity. Just who was John the Baptist? Where did he come from? What was his mission? Why did God send him? It was a big question by the time the author of our gospel wrote these words for the church. Historically, the movement that John the Baptist started, independent of Jesus’ ministry, did not end with his death. The writer of John’s gospel is very aware of the admiration of the Baptizer’s crusade. Some of his followers were still carrying on his cause long after the Jesus' movement got started. These followers were called the Essenes, and they were growing alongside the Christian community, perhaps even competing for converts. In fact, there is still a small sect in Iraq called the Mandeans who trace their history and teachings all the way back to John the Baptist and his vision.

Perhaps this is why we understand the emphasis in our gospel text for making clear who John was not. The gospel writer even interrupts himself when he is talking about the light that has come into the world. "I am not talking about John," he says. The author of the gospel even records John saying the same thing, with double emphasis. "I am not the Messiah," John the Baptist states. Certainly, there is no evidence to suggest that John thought of himself as the Messiah, even though he did believe the Messiah's arrival was imminent. But I wonder what it must have been like for him. Was it hard for him to realize who he was not?

I imagine there was a lot of pressure for him to imposter the long-awaited Messiah. But it seems he resisted the pressure to be something he was not, as powerful as that temptation might have been. In so doing, he was also able to accept who he was, what he had been called to be; the Messiah's advance man. He was the forerunner of the Anointed One. "I am the one who has come to make his way straight," John said, "a voice crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.'"

Pastors sometimes face such pressure from their churches. Whenever a new minister comes to town, there can be a temptation to make them into something they are not. All those glowing recommendations. Those fervent expectations. "Now, things will really get going!" people begin to say. "This time we've got a winner!" "This one is just what our church needs!" It is all very well-intentioned. Very understandable. There’s usually a budding romance with a new minister; a honeymoon period at the beginning of a new pastorate. But, I'm telling you, this expectation is a setup for everything that can and often does go wrong.

Mass Appeal (1984)
Movie Poster

There is that wonderful scene in the movie “Mass Appeal,” for instance, where Jack Lemmon plays an older, successful priest who has bent over backwards in order to be everything his new, affluent congregation expects him to be. When a young pastoral apprentice comes to the parish, it isn’t long before he gets into trouble just for being himself. The older priest is conscience-stricken when he realizes that his entire ministry has been a sham in order to cover up his deep fear of simply being the person he really is. When he finally confesses this to his congregation while celebrating Mass, he says apologetically and somewhat thoughtfully, "Perhaps, now, you and I can really learn what it means to love one another."

But this is a dilemma for a lot of us, not just church pastors. Most teenager are always trying to be the coolest kid at school, or the smartest, or sexiest, or most athletic because they think it is the only way to find acceptance. The young man trying to be what his parents want him to be. The young wife trying to be what her husband expects her to be. The middle-aged person holding onto old regrets about the opportunities that passed them by. The senior adult who is unable to embrace the person that they have become; limited by the role their children or grandchildren need them to be.

Our gospel text teaches us an important lesson for advent. It encourages us to be willing to live within the limits of who we are, but also be the very best that we are, no more and no less. During this Christmas season expectations may be very high to deliver that perfect present, or cook that perfect dinner, or be that perfect person at family gatherings. Like these twinkle lights that I tried to hang on my tree, we might feel “half lit” from all the pressure and expectations to be perfect. We might feel the need to make other people’s lives bright and shining, when we ourselves feel dimmed and dull.

What mattered to John the Baptist, was preparing the way for God's anointed one. Preparing the way, but not trying to compete with it. Why? Because being comfortable with WHO you are - no matter WHERE you are on your journey - is all that God asks. And what does God promise? That God will light the way for you. And that light will be the welcome for others to join you along the journey. The author of John's Gospel makes the same affirmation: "The true light, which enlightens everyone, is coming into the world." Jesus the Christ is the light who brings enlightenment; indeed, he is "the light of the world." This is the truth in his birth stories, and it is true of your inherent nature as God’s child. How might you share your light today? 

Might you kindle a smile in someone who seems down?  Can you share what you have with someone who could really use it?  Will you offer a kindness to a stranger? Perhaps you will call a friend and just say, “You are important to me.” When the light of Christ’s awareness is illuminated in you, no one will be able to turn off the twinkle of God’s love shining through you…even when you feel “half-lit” at times. So…light up the world, you little Christ’s. It won’t cost you a cent! Amen!
(Excepts from Barry J. Robinson’s sermon, “ALL THAT GOD ASKS” for December 15, 2002 - www.fernstone.org)