Expecting!

(Scriptures: I Samuel 2:1-11, Romans 16:25-27, Luke 1:25-56)

Every now and then, events come to pass that we thought we’d never live to see. When many of us were growing up, the Cold War between America and the Soviet Union was an entrenched fact of life, something we thought was an unchangeable reality, like death and taxes. Many who grew up in the 1950’s and 1960’s remember bomb shelters and duck and cover drills in school, where, in case of nuclear attack, school children were told to kneel under their desks with their hands clutched around their heads and necks. In 1961, the Berlin wall went up, dividing capitalist West Germany from Communist East Germany. By the 1970’s, when I was in high school, the duck and cover drills had ceased, but the tension between our countries remained, as it seemed like capitalism and communism were in a fight to the death for world domination. And then, in the late 1980’s, it just….ended…in 1989, the Berlin Wall fell, and events continued rapidly from there. Similarly, many of us remember other moments we never thought we’d live to see – apartheid, which enforced segregation between the races in South Africa, coming to an end in the early 1990’s, what were called “the troubles” in Ireland, in which Protestants seeking union with Great Britain and Catholics nationalists wanting to preserve independence from Great Britain killed one another for decades starting in the 1960’s, coming to an end in the “Good Friday” Belfast Accord of 1998. More recently, years of violence in Liberia have come to end in a fragile time of relative peace under President Ellen Johnson- Sirleaf. In these times of change, there are many theories of what happened, what brought them about. In some cases, these events are still too recent for us to have fully developed a perspective on them; the histories are still being written.

This may seem like a very strange way to begin a sermon for the last Sunday in Advent. We want angels and wise men and a manger, not talk of social change. Our Advent readings include statements that seemed extravagant, unrealistic, pie-in-the-sky. But the examples of sweeping change with which I began this sermon remind us that sometimes entrenched oppression, entrenched misery gives way to new hope; the impossible becomes not only possible, but inevitable, and what seems unreal becomes reality.

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, as we draw near to the end of this season of waiting, today’s Scripture readings give us words from not one, but two mothers. Our Old Testament reading quotes the words of Hannah, the first of two wives of Elkanah. Elkanah’s other wife is Peninnah – in Hebrew the name just means “the second one” or “the other one”. Hannah had been barren, so perhaps Elkanah married Peninnah to assure himself that he would have children, that his name would live on on. Hannah went to Shiloh to beg the Lord for a child, and vowed that if the Lord gave her a child, the child would be devoted to the Lord’s service. As Hannah left her child, Samuel, with the aged priest Eli, she prayed the beautiful words we heard read earlier. And, of course, our Gospel reading includes Mary’s Magnificat, Mary’s hymn of praise to God and thanksgiving for the child within her, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit.

We have a number of moms in our congregation, those with young children, and those whose children are grown, but no doubt remember what it was like to be expecting. That’s an experience I haven’t had. But I would imagine that as your bodies were going through the changes of pregnancy, you had so many thoughts about the child growing within you. Of course, boy or girl? What will we call the baby? Would he or she take after you or the baby’s father? I’d imagine, as you gave birth and as your baby grew, you’ve had such hopes and dreams for your child. What sort of person would your child grow up to be?

And our two moms in our readings this morning, Hannah and Mary, had high hopes for their children – and that’s putting it mildly. Hannah and Mary both literally expected their children to turn society upside down – or maybe right-side up. Here’s Hannah: “Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry are fat with spoil. He raises the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor.” And here’s Mary: “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” Not exactly the kind of language we’d include in an invitation for a baby shower. Hannah and Mary are speaking in what is sometimes called the prophetic past tense, speaking with such certainty that it’s as if all these things have already happened. If Jesus heard words like this as he was growing up, it’s no wonder that his first sermon, as recorded by Luke, was on the text, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” This was Jesus’ personal mission statement, what drove him, what motivated him to ministry.

You don’t need me to tell you that many people in this neighborhood, in our city, our country, in the world are hurting. The divide between the rich and the poor is as wide as it has been since the Gilded Age of the 1870’s and 1880’s. For those at the bottom of the economic ladder, prospects for improvement are dismal. In these days, it’s easy to lose hope for anything better. In these days, it’s easy to become discouraged, and just expect more of the same.

When we think about the forces that have power to create change in society, we think of guns and tanks, or people of great wealth and political influence. But throughout the Bible, we see that when God wants to bring change, he sends, not an army, but a baby. Think of Isaac, son of the promise, born to the aged Abraham and Sarah. Think of Moses, born to lead the children of Israel to freedom. Think of Hannah in our Old Testament reading giving birth to Samuel, who marked the transition from the social disorder of the time of the judges to the relative stability of the monarchy. And think of the birth John the Baptist, born, like Abraham, to an aged, childless couple, born to proclaim the coming Messiah, and Jesus, born to Mary, God in the flesh, in whom we are all saved.

We may think of Hannah’s and Mary’s dreams for their children as extravagant, over the top. But I think perhaps the question for us is not “why did they expect so much?” but rather “why do we expect so little?” Why do we expect so little? Hannah and Mary expected their children to turn their society upside down – or maybe right side up. But throughout history, the church, which professes to follow Mary’s son, instead of turning the world upside down, so often has just blessed the status quo. Hannah and Mary looked for the poor to be lifted up and the powerful to be humbled. Too often over the centuries, the church has upheld and blessed entrenched power as God’s will, leaving the poor to fend for themselves. Here at Emanuel, I think we sometimes let our size discourage us from hoping that God can use our congregation; we think that because we don’t have hundreds of members in the pews and millions of dollars in the endowment fund, God can’t use us to usher in the reign of God.

In his first letter to the church at Corinth, Paul said that God uses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, uses that which is weak to shame the strong. Jesus was born, not in a palace, but in a stable. Jesus’ birth was a threat to Herod, a threat to the Roman empire and to all worldly empires, but good news to the shepherds and foreign wise men who came to pay him homage. It is not with the strong but with the weak that we find Jesus. So here at Emanuel, Jesus is right at home.

Hannah’s and Mary’s words gave voice to the hope within them, that the child within each of them would be used by God to turn society upside down – or maybe, turn it right-side up. And we here at Emanuel, as small as we are, still have new life within us – we’ve baptized several babies over the past year. Can a 150 year old church have children – “yes”! Can God use a 150 year old church to change lives, to nourish the life of the Spirit. Absolutely yes!

Did Hannah, did Mary know what plans God had for their children? Who can tell what plans God has for us, for the babies recently baptized and their families, and for those of us whose baptisms happened long years ago? We worship a God who uses old couples, long-childless mothers, unwed mothers to bring forth new life. And God can use us, if we’ll allow it. So, in a way, just as Hannah was expecting, just as Mary was expecting, so are we here at Emanuel – expecting, pregnant with possibilities, capable still of bringing forth new life, if God so wills.

During this Advent season of hope, peace, love, and joy, may we live with a sense of expectation – expectation that God who did great things in the past will do great things here in the future, that Jesus who passed from death to resurrection life will bring about resurrection life here at Emanuel Church. May it be so with us. Amen.

No Rest for the Weary? - A Snowy Sunday Sermon

(Scriptures: Isaiah 63:7-9, Hebrews 2:10-18 Matthew 2:1-23)

Note: Due to the forecasted snow, Emanuel has cancelled services for Dec 26. Here is the sermon planned for this morning

I’d like to begin by thanking everyone once again for all that everyone did to make our Christmas Eve service a night of beauty and wonder. From the beautiful decorations to the Scripture readings which everyone did so well, to Ralph’s beautiful organ music, to preparations for Holy Communion, I thought this year’s Christmas Eve service was especially meaningful.

And here we are again, not even two full days later, in worship to God. The presents have been opened, the turkey mostly eaten – or not – and we may feel like we need a vacation to recover from our Christmas holiday. We’re grateful for the privilege of making our annual pilgrimage to the manger, to pay tribute to the Christ child, but the time we spend there goes by all too quickly. We hope today will be a day of blessed rest, but tomorrow, we’ll be going “once more into the breach,” once more back to our daily lives. We may feel that while the lights and carols are beautiful, there’s no rest for the weary.

All this may give us at least a small taste of Mary and Joseph’s experience in today’s Scripture reading. This week’s and next week’s readings are out of sequence: next Sunday is Epiphany, when we read of the visit of the Wise Men. Today’s reading tells what happens in the aftermath of their visit, when Herod tries to have Jesus killed. Both readings tell of events approximately two years after the birth of Jesus. Mary and Joseph are no longer in the manger – we’re told that the wise men found the child, not in the manger, but in a house.

But we’ll hear from about the wise men next week. This week we’re stuck with brutal, paranoid Herod. Herod kept order and control over his subjects, but it could hardly be called peace – it was more like a reign of terror. We may remember news accounts in recent decades over the brutality of present and past rulers in the Middle East, who out of their paranoia arranged assassination attempts on members of their own family and their advisors. Herod would fit right in….in some ways, the more things change, the more they remain the same.

Does anyone here today like to watch old westerns, maybe on Turner Classics? One familiar plotline is a new sheriff or US marshal riding in to clean up the town. At some point, the sheriff and the bad guy will run foul of each other, and the bad guy will tell the sheriff: “this town ain’t big enough for the both of us and I’m giving you 24 hours to clear out.” Of course, we know that the sheriff will chase out the bad guys, win the girl, and ride off into the sunset, and that’ll be the end of the story.

While the scenery is much different, today’s Gospel follows a similar plotline. The wise men had traipsed into Herod’s court and asked, “where is the king......., for we have seen his star?” Of course, as far as Herod was concerned, he was the king in them thar’ parts. Herod consulted his scribes and was told that a new king would be born in Bethlehem of Judea. And while Herod forced a smile when he talked to the wise men – “when you find him, let me know where he is; I’d like to come and…uh….worship as well. Yeah….worship…that’s the ticket” – our Gospel makes it very clear that, for Herod, his province wasn’t big enough for the both of them, Herod and the baby who is to become king; that Herod had, not worship, but murder on his mind.

For Mary and Joseph, who had endured one exhausting trip to Bethlehem to give birth to Jesus, there was no rest for the weary. But God does not leave the babe defenseless. Like the Joseph of whom we read in Genesis, whose dreams warned Egypt of impending famine and enabled Joseph, with Pharoah’s support, to store up grain against the upcoming years of hunger, the dreams of Mary’s husband Joseph warn of Herod’s murderous plans. Warned in a dream, Mary and Joseph and the babe become political refugees, fleeing to safety in Egypt until Herod’s deathMatthew is very explicit in drawing parallels between Joseph in Genesis and the Joseph who would become Jesus’ earthly father. In the same way, Matthew draws explicit parallels between Jesus and the Moses of the Exodus: Jesus for a time lives in exile in Egypt, until he, like Moses before him, can emerge to return to Galilee, to bide his time with his family until, as an adult, Jesus emerges to lead all humanity to salvation. Herod reacts in character to God’s intervention – unaware that Mary and Joseph and the babe had evaded his grasp, Herod has all the babies in and around Bethlehem 2 years and younger killed. And again, there are parallels to Exodus: here Herod is re-enacting the role of Pharoah, who instructed his midwives to have all the male Hebrew babies killed. For Matthew’s community of Jewish converts to the way of Jesus, these parallels between the Genesis and Exodus accounts and the birth narrative of Jesus would have been rich with meaning.

As extreme, as literally crazed as Herod’s reaction is, at one level it’s an entirely rational response. You see, Judea really wasn’t big enough for both Herod and Jesus. In fact, the whole world isn’t big enough for the ways of Herod and the way of Jesus. The ways of the world, the ways of Herod and the way of Jesus are incompatible. As believers, we can’t treat the way of Herod and Jesus as items on a buffet table, where we can take a little of one and a little of the other. The ways of the world, the ways of Herod, are ways of death, whereas the way of Jesus is the way of life, abundant life in this world and eternal life in the world to come.

In Jesus, God’s reign was breaking into our world in a new way, to break the grip of the powers of sin and death. As Ralph (in one of his moments away from the organ) read from John’s Gospel with such passion and eloquence at Christmas Eve, the Word, the creative power of God through whom all the universe was brought into being, became flesh, and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. All who receive Jesus, who believe in Jesus’ name, are given power to become children of God. Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made God known to us.

But, as Ralph also read, while the world came into being through the Word, the world did not know him. Jesus came into the world to save, and in response the world, through Herod, sought to destroy. Mary and Joseph were entrusted with the care of Jesus, the Word made flesh, and while their lives were eventful – the stories they could tell! - they could hardly have been called easy.

And so it often is with us. When we become disciples of Jesus, we turn away the ways of the world, the flesh, and the devil. And the world, the flesh, and the devil will push back. We may find our lives becoming, not easier, but more complicated, just as Mary and Joseph’s faith led them into life as political refugees. There are costs to being a disciple of Jesus. We find ourselves, not in a sheltered retreat, but on a battlefield, in the thick of the action. And we can’t even pick up Herod’s weapons and use them against Herod. The ways of Herod only lead to death. We can only combat Herod with the weapons of the spirit, following in the way of Jesus. God does not promise us an easy life, but God does promise his presence in the struggle, his presence on our journey of life.

Jesus said, “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” It’s a strange kind of rest, not a rest of idle inactivity, but a rest that comes with knowing that, while the battle may be fierce, the outcome is assured, and we will welcome it. Perhaps it could be compared to the calm at the center of a hurricane; while life swirls around us, we can find a calm center within ourselves that comes with faith in God. And while our lives may not be easy, we are promised that we will have the peace of Christ, that peace that passes all understanding, that peace that the world can neither give nor take away. May that peace be with us now, and go with us always. Amen.

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Please start off 2011 right, by joining us next Sunday at 10 am (Epiphany or "Three Kings" Sunday) at Emanuel United Church of Christ. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson).

A Holy Interruption

John Lennon’s song “Beautiful Boy”, written for his son Sean, contains the words, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” Tomorrow’s New Testament reading (Luke 1:26-55) is about God bringing new life to Mary while she was busy making other plans. We’re not told exactly what Mary was going when the Angel Gabriel appeared to Mary, but we can be reasonably certain that the visit was not expected. Mary wasn’t sitting by the window waiting for Gabriel to come up the front walk. Rather, the Angel Gabriel came to Mary and said, “Greetings, favored one! Blessed are you among women.”

Mary is understandably perplexed, and wondered what sort of greeting this might be. She’s suspicious of this stranger with his words of friendly greeting. Was this stranger blessing her, or setting her up to take advantage of her? The angel senses her fear, and says, “Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God. And now you will conceive 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 understandably objects, “But I am a virgin” or as some translations say, “I do not know a man.” The angel explains that God will make all this possible, and tells her that in her old age her cousin Elizabeth is six months along in her pregnancy – for nothing will be impossible with God.” Mary gets in the last word: “Here am I, a servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. God broke in on Mary with new life at a time when she least expected it. “Blessed are you among women” Gabriel said. And Mary was blessed – because she was willing to allow a holy interruption to her plans.

Mary heard the words, “Blessed are you among women!” What does it mean to be blessed? When we pray, “We give you thanks, O God, for our many blessings…” what do we think of? Good health, a job, a family. Prominent evangelists such as Joel Osteen and the wonderfully named Creflo Dollar preach that “God wants us rich”. But Gabriel’s words and Mary’s response give us a very different picture of what it means to be blessed. For Mary, being blessed meant being part of God’s plan, being used by God – even at great personal cost. Being blessed means being where the action is, action in this case meaning God’s acts of saving the world. May we have eyes to see and ears to see the ways in which God is waiting to interrupt our plans, to experience the blessings God has for those whose trust is in the Lord.