We Are A Team

Epiphany 4B   1 Corinthians 8:1-13

I heard a story once about a group of missionaries living in Africa who had decided to set up a game of croquet in their front yard. Several of their neighbors who were people of the local tribes were very interested in the game and wanted to learn to play. The missionaries explained the game and gave each a mallet and a ball. As the game progressed, opportunity came for one of the players to take advantage of another by knocking the other person’s ball out of the court. One of the missionary carefully explained how to accomplish this, but his strategy was very confusing to the tribesman. “Why would I want to knock his ball out of the court?” he asked. “So you will be the one to win!” the missionary said. The man shook his head in bewilderment. His so-called “civilized” neighbor was suggesting something absurd. That kind of individual competition was not common in their culture where people survived, not by competing against one another to win individually, but by working together to win—to survive—as a group. The game continued, but nobody followed the advice of the missionaries. When a player successfully got through all the wickets, the game was not over for him. He went back and gave aid and advice to his friends. As the final player moved toward the last wicket, it had become a full team effort. And, when the last wicket was played, the “team” shouted happily, “We won!” “We won!”

An interesting little story to ponder this morning as we look at the text from 1st Corinthians. Keep that image in your mind—of the men working together to play the game—as we move on.

In today’s second lesson, Paul writes to the early Christians in the city of Corinth about several issues they originally contacted him to help settle. One of these topics we hear about today: whether or not it is ok to eat meat that has been sacrificed to an idol. Now, you might be thinking, ok, Pastor, what does that have to do with us in the 21st century?? It is kind of disgusting to think too much about and thankfully no one sacrifices animals any more and even if they did, the meat isn’t carried at Ingles or Harolds. Plus, we do not have the kinds of food laws that the Jews did, so this is one of those ancient practices that has nothing to do with us.

Well, maybe. But maybe not. It is possible that what Paul is telling the Corinthians has a lot to do with both the team players in the croquet story and with us today.

So, what is this all about? Corinth was a Roman city and as such was structured around pagan Roman worship. Animal sacrifice was part of this pagan worship and after the rituals were over, the meat was sold in the markets along with that of herders and farmers. If you were a citizen of Corinth, you shopped in those markets and had sacrificed meat as an option to purchase. Your friends might serve it if you went to someone’s house for dinner. Just like today, eating a meal together could have been a social activity, celebration, family event or a business activity. If you were poor, it is possible that the only time you ever tasted meat was when wealthy people held large public banquets where a meal was served at no charge. It was quite likely that meat which had been sacrificed to idols may have been on the menu. There was no way to know since it didn’t look any different from any other meat. If you were a Corinthian Christian, this might have posed a problem for you. Avoiding this kind of meat would not have been impossible but it certainly would have been a challenge. In fact, there were significant disagreements in the church about this and they wrote to Paul for answers. Is it or is it not OK to eat that kind of meat?

The Christian church in Corinth consisted of lots of different kinds of people. Some were converted Jews who had come to follow Jesus and believe that he was God. Some were converted pagans who use to worship the many Roman gods and goddesses—the same ones to whom the meat in question was sacrificed. One side of the argument, and we can gather this from the words Paul quotes in his letter, went something like this: because we know, as Christians, that these idols are just statues and not really gods, it does not matter. We are smart enough to know that the only real God is our God and, therefore, these sacrifices are not actually sacrifices to anything. Ergo: it is harmless to eat it. As Christians we have been freed from obeying all the strict food laws that were given to the Hebrews in the Old Testament. In light of this knowledge and freedom, we have nothing to fear from eating any meat, sacrificial or not, and should therefore be free to do as we please.

But there was another side to this as well. There were Christians in Corinth who were deeply offended by this. They believed it would be blasphemy to eat this meat sacrificed to pagan gods. To them, it was disgusting and sinful. How could a person claim to be a follower of Christ and still consume such pagan products? Meat that had been offered to any one of the pagan gods or goddesses was revolting to them and to think of consuming it was horrifying.

You can see how these two ideas would clash. One group saying it is no big deal because we know better. The other saying it was a horrible thing for any Christian to do. Where was the resolution? Paul’s response is very interesting. Yes, he says, you are indeed correct! There is only one God—our God. Yes, this sacrificed meat is not, in all actuality, sacrificed to anything. Idols are not real. He even says that, ultimately, you are no better for having not eaten the meat and no worse if you have. In a sense, it does not matter.

However, he does not stop there. Even though this is true, some people are deeply disturbed by this practice. He points to some who “have become so accustomed to idols until now” meaning those who had been converted from paganism. “They still think of the food they eat as food offered to an idol.” It is possible, Paul tells them their weaker consciences, or we could perhaps think of this as someone who is as yet uncertain of what their faith means or calls them to do, are damaged by this practice. Not only by their own eating of this meat but by seeing their fellow Christians do so as well. So, in this way, those who exercise what is actually their freedom to eat whatever they wish, may harm the faith of someone else. In the end, Paul says he would rather choose to never eat meat of any kind again than to cause someone else to stumble in their faith.

Knowledge puffs up, he writes, but Love builds up. In other words: ok, you are right that you are free to do as you please, but the greater choice is to love your brother or sister in Christ more than you love this freedom. If others who are weaker see you consume this meat, they may decide to eat the same thing but still believing that it is still something sacrificed to idols. By so doing, your knowledge and freedom cause the downfall of someone else.

Paul is not talking about people who are just stubborn in their ways or people who are being willfully obstinate in their belief that idol sacrifices are blasphemous. He is talking about people who truly believe this! Most significantly, he writes, “When you thus sin against members of your family [that is, your brothers and sisters in Christ], and wound their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ.” Perhaps freedom is not about doing what we please but about something else.

It would be easy to take this section of scripture and laminate it on top of whatever type of conflict or concern we encounter in the church. It is tempting to see ourselves as the one who knows better and the people on the other side of whatever issue concerns us at any given time as having weaker consciences or younger faith. But how do you know which of these sides is your side? The truth is, you may not ever know. We do not know which side of this issue was a new idea and which the tradition. We do not know if it was the church council who wanted to eat the sacrificed meat or if they were against it. Paul is also very careful not to say “New Christians” or “Life Long Christians” either. We do not know what those who were “weaker” or “stronger” actually looked like, what roles they played in the church or in society. What we do know is how Paul taught them to deal with the situation by putting the love of others ahead of personal freedom and privilege.

Martin Luther wrote, “The Christian is a perfectly free, lord of all and is subject to none. The Christian is a completely dutiful servant of all and is subject to all.” In other words, we are free in Christ. Law is no longer binding to us as it once was. We do not have to earn the love of God by performing or abstaining from certain acts. God loves us freely and does not require us to behave a certain way in order to get that love. However, right alongside that, we are bound to each other. In that free gift of love from God , we are also free to love one another. Free to concern ourselves not with our own needs but that of others. In a manner of speaking we are, in freedom, bound to one another’s needs.

This reminds me of something my father used to tell me when I was a little girl. He would say, “Rosemary, we are a family and that is something special. A family is like a football team: everyone has to work together in order to win. Can the quarterback or coach win the game?” “Well, not really,” I would say, “though they make a big difference! Or a really good kicker could win the game, too!” “Yes,” my dad would say, “and a big mistake by any one player could lose a game as well, but does any player win or lose on their own?” “No, of course not,” I said. “Well,” my dad would say, “that’s like us. We are a team. You see, we win or lose together. So when we disagree, it isn’t about my winning and you loosing or even the other way around. If you lose, then I lose too. If one wins, we all win. It takes all the players to even make a game in the first place. We have to work together just like they do in order to play the game. To be a family.”

Sounds a little like our story from the beginning, doesn’t it? This may be the kind of thing Paul was trying to teach the Corinthians and what Jesus tries to teach us. At the end of the text, Paul talks about how we treat our brothers and sisters and that language is very important. Jesus used the same words when he spoke of his followers. Our brothers and sisters; our family. It is something other than, or perhaps even greater than, our biological brothers and sisters. In our baptism we are made one family, one team. My father showed me and Luther and Paul are showing all of us that while we are free in Christ, we have love for one another in Christ as well. When one wins, we all win. We all win together.

So what does that look like for us at Shepherd of the Hills? What does that look like for our family here? Well, it means, to use my father’s words, we are a team. We win or lose together, not as individuals but as a whole. There is no I in team and, in a manner of speaking, there is no I in church either. It means that when we make decisions the issues we work with are important but our care for one another is of greater importance. It means that when we make choices for our actions we must consider not just what we want or are free to do, but we also consider what the rest of our family needs as well—the family into which we have been made through Jesus Christ.

What if the Mightiest Word Is Love?

Epiphany 3B Jonah 3:1-5, 10  Mark 1:14-20

 In the past few years, there has been an increase in the number of movies centered around superheroes. I’m not sure that this genre of storytelling ever really goes out of fashion, but lately there has been a significant interest in these kinds of characters. Spiderman, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, the Watchmen, the upcoming Avengers and Wonder Woman movies, the X-Men and, my personal favorite, Batman, are just the tip of the iceberg.

 Sociologists and psychologists say that we humans are hard wired to look for something to adore, to worship. We instinctively look for heroes. A great and mighty person to follow, one who can do all the things we are not strong enough to accomplish or are incapable of doing ourselves. A god. One created in our own image. One to save us from our enemies and lift us up high where we belong—or at least where we think we belong. But what happens when our heroes fail? What happens when they are not who we thought they were? What happens when they do not do what we want them to do? What happens when our heroes do not act like heroes at all?

 Jonah struggled with this very issue. In our text for today, we hear Jonah’s brief sermon to the people of Nineveh, “Forty days more and Nineveh will be destroyed!” Now that is a short preacher! We probably all remember the story of his trying to avoid this ministry. Plenty of prophets have protested when God called them to go deliver his message to someone, but he is the only one in the bible who chose to run the complete opposite direction. Of course, he ends up being swallowed by the great big fish but, thankfully, God gives him a second chance. Today’s part of the story picks up then and Jonah has finally given in and walks the streets of Nineveh delivering God’s message to the people. Thanks to his brief but crystal clear sermon, the entire city, including all the animals, repents and they avoid punishment.

 If we read on in the story, we’d see that Jonah, surprisingly, is not at all happy about this! His angry response to God: I KNEW this would happen and that is why I didn’t want to come here in the first place!! It is not like you were really going to do anything to them. Sure, we all hear the stories about how mighty and righteous you are, but I see what you’re really like. You are gracious and merciful; slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. I knew you’d forgive them! 

Jonah wanted God to do what he said he was going to do in the first place. In some ways, it was not an unfair expectation, really. The people of Nineveh had lived very sinful lives and had done many wicked things, so God would have been right to punish them. Jonah knew God to be a just God, a righteous God, and a mighty God. But God is also, just as Jonah said, gracious, merciful and loving. Jonah is so angry, so disappointed in God and his response to the repenting people of Nineveh that he tells God he does not even want to live anymore.

 In our Gospel lesson, we see a little piece of Jesus’ early ministry, including another brief but clear sermon. It is a compact telling of Jesus’ primary message as told by the writer of Mark and the calling of his first disciples.

 First, we hear this simple and clear message from Jesus: The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news. We could say that this is the whole point of this gospel—the Thesis statement, so to speak. The Kingdom of God has come near—is right in front of you—and this is, indeed, good news! Then, an amazing thing happens.  Jesus walks up to Peter, Andrew, James and John, all fishermen hard at work, and just says “follow me” and they do it!! That is just amazing! If he were an ordinary man, we would say he had fantastic charisma.

 Throughout Jesus’ earthly ministry he gathers many followers. Some who believe in him so much that they just know if they even touch the fringe of his robe they would be healed of any ailment. Truly, he does do amazing things. He heals, calms storms, walks on water, knows what people are thinking without their even speaking it. People start to believe that he is the messiah—the hero promised to Israel by God who will come and redeem them. The Israelites at that time lived in a society that significantly oppressed them and there was poverty, disease and other things that made life hard. This messiah—their Hero—would change all that! The messiah would defeat the enemies and bring back the good life.

 The heroes of Israel’s past were great and mighty indeed! Some of the Judges who ruled all Israel in the early years, like Samson and Deborah, were mighty and strong heroes or wise tacticians in battle. Abraham, who was looked upon as the father of all the Israelites, and Moses were seen as iconic heroes who founded a nation and led them from slavery to freedom. David was the great King, the heroic warrior leader that all others were measured against. So now, this Jesus could be their Messiah.  The hero of heroes! The great mighty one that God would send to free them and lead them into all peace and prosperity just as he had promised over and over. A king more powerful than David, stronger than Samson, wiser than Deborah, and even more of a leader than Abraham or Moses. This Jesus could be the one. He could be their hero.

 Who could blame them for expecting this? Don’t we want just the same thing? Theologians agree with those sociologists and psychologists—we were made to seek for God. Saint Augustine said that our human hearts are restless our whole lives through until they rest in God. It is in our nature, not just psychologically but in our very essence, to look for God and to seek to worship him. But sin, as always, gets in our way. It distorts our ability to see God and it makes things that are most assuredly not God look like they could be worthy of worship. It also makes our understanding of God blurry as well. We often end up making God in our image rather than the other way around. In order to be God, he has to live up to OUR standards and expectations.

So the Israelites, just like the Romans of the time, just like us, just like all humans really, looked for mighty leaders—strong protectors—because that is what makes a hero worthy of worship. Might is what makes a hero.

 But what if the mightiest thing is love?

 The poet Elizabeth Alexander once wrote: “We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed, words to consider reconsider…. Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself, others by first do no harm or take no more than you need. What if the mightiest word is love? Love beyond marital, filial, national, love that casts a widening pool of light, love with no need to pre-empt grievance.”

In one month we will begin our Lenten journey together.  The journey to the cross of Christ. The journey we make with Jesus; the journey we must make to get to Easter. On that journey we will hear of Jesus’ weakness, not his power.  We will hear of his mercy, not his wrath. We will hear of his suffering, not his celebration. We will hear of his love, not his vengeance. We will hear that he is gracious, merciful and full of steadfast love. We will also hear of the disciples and virtually all of his followers’ disillusionment with Jesus as their hero. We will hear how he did not fight back when he was taken away, how he did not call down armies of angels to free himself from the cross. We will, instead, hear how he wept. How he was abandoned. How he was doubted. How he did not live up to expectations. How, in the eyes of all those who thought he was their hero, he failed.

 But what if the mightiest thing…. the mightiest word is Love? What if real power is in mercy? What if true strength lies in grace? What if God’s greatest power is in things like his forgiving the people of Nineveh? Like his forgiving each and every one of us this morning when we began worship? What if his grace, given to us to free us from the grip of sin, is God’s greatest strength?

 What if the real might of God is in love? The kind of love that does not return abuse and gives itself freely. That humbles itself to be a servant and wash filthy feet. That eats and talks with the lowest of the low and the highest of the high and everyone in between. That goes to the cross and bleeds every last drop of blood for those who betray him and no longer believe him to be a hero.

 The mightiest word is Love. It is the might that rolled away a stone. It is the might that death could not defeat. It is the might that fills up the Kingdom of God about which Jesus preached. The Kingdom of God that IS Jesus. It is the true might of Love that has continued to draw people to Jesus. It is the stuff that the real hero is made of—for he is Gracious and Merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast Love.

Epiphany

Epiphany 2B 1Samuel 3:1-20  Psalm 139   John 1:43-51

This sermon is posted by request. I had not originally intended to post it for several reasons but I’ve had multiple requests to do so.

There is a lectionary based comic strip on line that I follow called Agnus Day. It is created by the campus pastor of Valparaiso University and each week he takes one of the four readings for that Sunday and creates a dialog between his characters. The two sheep—a dumb sheep and a smart sheep—are sometimes funny, sometimes serious. There was one about our Gospel lesson a few years ago that went like this:
Dumb Sheep: Philip seems pretty eager for his brother to meet Jesus
Smart Sheep: Yeah, the people of Israel waited for Centuries for the Messiah’s appearing
Dumb Sheep: Really? I thought a guy like Jesus would be more punctual

Well, although we may not always be right on time, Jesus is. He’s always right on time because he knows us so well; knows us before we ever know him and perhaps even better than we know ourselves. All of our texts today speak in some way to how well God knows us and how we come to know him.

In our first lesson we hear about Samuel. I like Samuel a lot and, in some small way, I can identify with him. Maybe you can, too. Often times we, like he, are eager to serve God but not always able to know how to do it or to recognize the voice of the one who was and is calling us to serve. We sometimes need help.

Throughout my childhood I was, probably like many of you, active in the church. Sunday school, worship, youth, whatever. Church was part of life. It was just as much a part of life as going to school, doing chores, sleeping and eating. It was what life looked like. Even throughout my college years, just like the college students here, I continued to be an active part of the church and taught kindergarten Sunday School each week. As I got older, I felt like there was something more—not something better but something else—I could do… that I was being called to do. But I did not have the words to ask about it. When I asked what else I could do, I was told they really needed me to keep teaching that class.

A few years after graduating from college, I gradually stopped going to church. I wanted to serve and I felt like I was being called to serve somehow, but I just didn’t know what to do. After a few job changes, I went to see a career counselor who spent hours with me after I spent hours taking tests. After listening to me for a long time she asked me, “Rosemary, have you ever considered pursuing ordained ministry?” She might as well have asked me if I’d considered being an astronaut. I laughed at her suggestion. “People need to know everything about God before they become pastors and that’s not me” I said.

I think the truth is God was laughing at me because he knew everything about me.

Some years later, I started going to church again with a friend. We visited a different church practically every Sunday for a year. I got to worship with so many different kinds of people who prayed, sang, worshiped, praised and cried out to God in so many different ways. At some point along the way, we worshiped at a Lutheran church. When I went up for communion, the pastor, a large man with huge hands, looked directly into my eyes, put that bread firmly in my hand and said “This Is the Body Of Christ, Given for YOU” and I believed it like never before. Then, a woman put the small glass of wine in my hands. “The blood of Christ, shed for YOU” she said. I looked at her and suddenly realized, this was the same woman who had been my career counselor years before. Each Sunday, I kept being drawn back to that Lutheran church. I began going there every week and eventually joined. One of the other pastors there took me to dinner just before I joined and said, “Rosemary, have you ever considered ordained ministry?” I laughed at her and said, “Pastor, I am not even a part of your church yet!”

But I think it was God who was laughing at me because he was already a part of me.

Over time, I became more and more active in church, joining this group or that, teaching classes, and assisting in worship. I always felt drawn, pulled, called to do more, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Eventually, there came an opportunity to participate in a mission trip to El Salvador. We were going to build a school in a very rural community of Lutherans on a mountainside outside San Salvador. I spent two weeks living there with people of the greatest poverty and the greatest faith I have ever seen. They taught me more about what God looked like and what faith looked like than I had ever learned. On the last night we were there we had a communion service—the Americans and the Salvadorians together. The words of the Lord’s Prayer said together in English and Spanish must have been what it sounded like at Pentecost. For the very first time I was allowed to assist with communion. To each person I got to say, “The Blood of Christ shed for YOU.” When the last person was served, I wanted to cry because I wanted that line to go on forever. This time when one of the men there asked me, “have you ever thought of being a pastor?” I laughed, but this time it was because I could hear God laughing, too.

Samuel was raised in the church. Literally. More than just being raised to go to worship and live the faithful life, as many of us may have also been taught from an early age to do, he was given to the temple by his mother and literally live inside the worship space. His mother had not been able to have children and had gone to the temple and cried to God to please, please give her a child. And God did give her a child, whom she named Samuel.

His bed was right outside the room where the Ark of the Covenant that held the Ten Commandments was kept. He slept under the sanctuary lamp, much like this lamp we have here in our sanctuary. You would think that a boy who lived that close to the holiest thing the world had, at that time, ever seen would surely be able to recognize the voice of God. Yet, he thought it was Eli, the priest whom he served and over and over he runs to Eli, thinking the man needed him for a task of some sorts. On his own, he couldn’t figure it out. Eventually, Eli recognizes what is really going on and helps Samuel to realize it is God who is trying to speak to him and tells him how to respond.

A similar thing happens with Nathaniel. It is Philip, who brings him to Jesus. When his brother first comes to him and says, ‘you’ll never believe who we have met! Jesus, the guy from Nazareth, he’s the one that Moses and the prophets spoke about,’ Nathaniel’s response was similar to what ours might have been. He doubts it. He’s skeptical. Who knows, he might even have laughed at Philip with his sarcastic comment of, “nothing good has ever come out of Nazareth!” But his brother helps him. He says, come and see. He, like Eli, helps find the response and takes him to God. When they are on the way, approaching Jesus, he says, “now there is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” When Nathaniel questions him, it is clear that Jesus knew him long before meeting him. Nathaniel realizes that only the Son of God would know him so well. Only God could know him even before meeting him.

It is the Philips and Elis of the world; our brothers, sisters, friends, mentors and sometimes even strangers who can open our eyes to God’s call. They can help us to say, speak Lord, your servant is listening, They can help us to learn to confess Jesus as our God.

But there is something more here in these texts for today. Perhaps it is even more important than what we’ve already seen. Let’s look back at today’s Psalm for the answer. Over and over in every way possible, the psalmist sings about how God knows every part of him—knows it all before it even happens. One of the verses of this psalm says, “you created my inmost parts. You knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Even when we don’t realize it or could not even be aware of it, God is there and knows us. With Samuel, God knew him before Samuel could even recognize the voice of God. God had a plan and a purpose for Samuel from the beginning and kept on calling him, over and over, until he came to know the sound of God’s voice. With Nathaniel, Jesus is clear in that before Nathaniel even heard the name of Jesus, he was known by him. He had a plan for Nathaniel, too. A plan for him to be one of the twelve disciples.

God calls us to go and do and believe all kinds of things. He calls us to many things, from our vocations or jobs to being parents, students, friends and, most of all, his followers. How many times in your own life has this happened? How is that happening now? Can you remember a time when someone was an Eli or Philip for you? It may not have been as fantastic an experience as hearing the voice of God wake you up in the middle of the night or as obvious as waking down the dusty streets of Galilee to meet someone. It might have looked like someone having faith in you and something you wanted to do because they had such faith in God. It might have looked like a friend who listened to you when you were having a difficult time or serious struggle and was, somehow, able to still show you those rays of hope that come only from God.

Sometimes, we are called to be an Eli or a Philip to someone else. Sometimes, we are called to show people where God has shown up in their lives, to help them hear the voice of God. To say to them, “Come and see the Jesus I know” so that we may all say, “speak, Lord, for your servants are listening.”

Jesus’ Baptism

Baptism of Our Lord Year B, Mark 1:7-11

Imagine the scene from today’s Gospel reading.
Way out in the middle of no where.  Way out in the wilderness, there is a man, a crazy passionate man, dressed in rough clothing made out of animal hair and leather. A wild rough looking man who has been in the wilderness a long time. He was not like the other religious leaders who dressed and ate well and lived in comparative comfort. This man, the one many called The Baptizer, lived like the prophets of old and his words sounded like the prophets, too. He was calling people to repent. To Metanoia. To literally turn around and go the other direction and walk a new and better way.

 

John the Baptizer called the people of the Judean countryside and all of Jerusalem to repent and to prepare the way for the coming Lord. He called them to turn their lives around, set a new course for their lives and be baptized, to hear the news that one more powerful than him was coming. That man would be truly holy, truly powerful and would truly baptize, not just with water, but with the Holy Spirit as well.

 

Then Jesus enters this scene, coming to be baptized. Some say that John told Jesus, ‘Me?? Baptize you?? Surely, it should be the other way around!’ But baptize him he did. And what a site to behold! Jesus, drenched in water, sees the very sky split apart and the Holy Spirit descended upon him—just like a great dove. He hears the voice of God say, ‘you are my beloved Son, and in you I have such Joy!’

 

Baptism wasn’t an uncommon practice during that time. In fact, ritual cleansing to rid oneself of sin was a frequent practice in some Jewish groups. Archaeologists have discovered some communities which had many large baths designed for just such a thing as this. It was a ritual repeated often during one’s lifetime and some may have even engaged in this practice monthly or weekly. The Jewish tradition today still maintains the practice of ritual washing for some specific occasions.

 

However, while there are some similarities with what Christians do today, it was definitely different from our baptismal practice in its meaning.

 

So what do we believe about baptism? In the Small Catechism we read what Martin Luther taught about it. In baptism God forgives our sins, delivers us from death and the devil and gives everlasting life. In our baptism service we hear these words:

 “In Holy Baptism our gracious heavenly Father liberates us from sin and death by joining us to the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are born children of a fallen humanity. In the waters of Baptism we are reborn Children of God and inheritors of eternal life. By water and the Holy Spirit we are made members of the Church which is the Body of Christ…..
……In the waters of the Jordan your Son was baptized by John and anointed with the Spirit. By the baptism of his own death and resurrection of your beloved Son and set us free from the bondage to sin and death and opened the way to the joy and freedom of everlasting life. He made water a sign of the kingdom and of cleansing and re birth. ….
….Pour out your Holy Spirit so that those who are baptized may be given new life. Wash away the sin of all those who are cleansed by this water and bring them forth as inheritors of your glorious kingdom. …” (Lutheran Book of Worship, Baptismal Rite)

 

After the child or adult has been baptized with water, we mark the forehead of the new Christian with oil and say, “child of God you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And as the gathered community we recite these words: “we welcome you into the Lord’s family. We receive you as fellow members of the body of Christ, children of the same heavenly Father and workers with us in the kingdom of God.”

 

But here’s the question: if baptism is a washing away of sins, entrance into the Christian community and the bestowal of the Holy Spirit and all his gifts, then why did Jesus have to be baptized?

 

Jesus did not commit sins and did not have original sin. The Christian community was formed around him. And, well Jesus is God, so I do not think he was really every separate from the Holy Spirit at all. So why? He’s already got all that he needed.  Why did he have to be baptized?

 

Anytime we start with God HAVING to do something, I think we may have the wrong end of the question.

Jesus is God and, as such, does not NEED anything. He is complete in himself. One of the perks of being God. We, on the other hand, are incomplete. We do need. We need God. Jesus allowed himself to be baptized not because He needed it but because we need it.

 

Now we turn to us and what we need. For us, it is not just about the water. Let’s look again at the Small Catechism. Luther writes, “It is not water alone but water and God’s Word.” When Jesus, the Word of God,

 stepped into the waters of the Jordan River to be baptized he made it something more than just a ritual for washing away ritual sin. In our baptism we are connected to his life, his death and his resurrection. It is the Word that makes the difference. Baptism transforms us because Jesus transformed it and through those waters transforms us.

 

The sinner in us, the old Adam and Eve, is drowned in our baptism and we are reborn into a new life as brothers and sisters in Christ. The apostle Paul writes that because we are united with Jesus in baptism, we are also joined to his death on the cross and his resurrection to new life in him. Baptism is no longer a ritual washing we do of our own volition and choosing but a rebirth to new life and gift of God’s grace and love given to us.

 

What does this mean for us? We all know that post-baptism life is not perfect or worry free. We need only look around or, perhaps, look in the mirror to see evidence of this. The old sinner in us may be drowned but Adam and Eve are really good swimmers. Each day we may remember that we are recipients of the gift of baptism and are able to turn around and follow Jesus rather than following in the footsteps of Adam and Eve.

 

So what does it mean here and now? What does this baptized life look like? It looks like brothers and sisters in Christ living and working together in the name of Jesus, gathering to study the word of God in the scriptures each week. It looks like reaching out to those in need in this community and even around the world, giving and caring when there is a need and loving when there is a hurt. It looks like giving of the time and special gifts that God has given each of us for the betterment of the lives of others. It looks like praying for those in need, participating in a church ministry, and finding new ways to serve. It looks like extra time spent working hard for someone else’s sake when one would rather be watching TV at home, a listening ear on the phone or over lunch.

 

 It also looks like failing at every one of these things and more but being reminded by friends, in worship, in scripture and prayer that we are baptized children of God and as such we try again.

 

We get to try again.

 

It looks like being fed on the body and blood of Christ at the table and being strengthened for this life. It looks like loving others because we have been filled, even drenched, in the love of God.
Living this baptized life gives us the courage and strength to live a life filled with the Holy Spirit and marked by the Cross of Christ and it guides us into areas we may never have dreamed we would go. Areas like ordained ministry, service on a church council, assisting at the altar during communion, leading the people of God in song, preparing meals for a covered dish, providing decorations for the fellowship hall. It makes us courageous enough to admit our sins and mistakes and ask for forgiveness, as well as making us brave enough  to forgive others. It makes it possible for us to reach out to a stranger in need, be a role model for others, invite someone else to church, share our faith journey with someone else and help them remember their baptism when they may have forgotten just how loved by God they really are.

 

Where is God calling you? Where is God calling us at Shepherd of the Hills? What are the new ways Jesus will lead us in the coming months and years as we walk together in this baptized life? Jesus calls us to follow him into those waters and it is and will be amazing to see where he will lead us next.

Making the Ordinary Holy

Name of Jesus, Luke 2:15-21, Galatians 4:4-7

And just like that, it was over.

Yes, Christmas lasts 12 days in the church. We have Christmas all the way through January 6^th when we commemorate the visit of the Magi to the Christ child. However, the reality of our celebration of Christmas in this day and age is that it is over. It was over a week ago.

All the planning and preparing and shopping and decorating. All the parties and get togethers and celebrations and gifts. All the joy at seeing family and friends, the sadness at not seeing those we miss and the anxiety of broken relationships that are all the more vivid in the holidays. There is the great onrush of it all and then…. It is over. The visitors, both the heavenly host and not so heavenly guests, have all gone home. The Christmas carolers and shepherds alike have all returned to work. The gifts, both those in pretty paper and ribbons and that in the manger, have all been unwrapped. And just like that, it was over.

Throughout Advent we spend a lot of time looking at the prophecies of the Old Testament that foretold the birth of the Messiah and the amazing and dazzling things that happen surrounding the birth of Jesus. Angels singing over the rolling hills, a brilliant star with a tail as big as a kite, shepherds keeping the faithful night watch over their wooly sheep. At Epiphany we imagine the shining gold, the exotic smell of incense, mysterious travelers riding on camels who have searched high and low for this child.

What a special child this must be! What a special and holy night! Yay Christmas! Now, let’s move on.

It is so easy to be blinded by the specialness of this holy season. Much like being outside on a bright, sunny day, when we move away from the brightness we may be unable to see other less sparkly things that are very important. The night was special. The child is special. The Sun of Righteousness, the Light of the World in all his blazing glory. But there is something more here too.

Today is called the Name of Jesus. We don’t often get to celebrate it or acknowledge it in worship since it falls on January 1^st and it seems like a somewhat strange thing to celebrate. The name of Jesus? Names are quite symbolic in scripture and Jesus’ name, Yeshua or Joshua in Hebrew, means God is Salvation. It was not an uncommon name for boys and it might be like naming your child Michael, which means he who is like God, yet there are tons of Michaels in the world.

In today’s gospel text, the writer of Luke gives us the tail end of what we consider the Christmas story, with the shepherds running to see the amazing, star-marked infant and then follows it up with the most ordinary sort of postscript. After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

Apart from the angelic flashback, this is so ordinary. Every single Jewish boy was circumcised after eight days had passed. That’s just life. Ordinary life. After all the angels and singing and flash and mystical majesty, we hear that this child is pretty much like every other child of his culture. He wasn’t born circumcised, he wasn’t born with some special mark or, despite what the many paintings show, a gleaming golden halo. He was named after the heroic warrior who led the people into the promised land, and while that is definitely symbolic from our perspective, it was still just like many other Jewish boys. Ordinary. Ordinary life.

How do you name the Son of God? Like a human child.

And that’s the point. That’s the point we often miss amongst the shiny, mystical prophecy. The Son of God was human. The Sun of Righteousness, the Light of the World, wrapped in the most ordinary package imaginable: a human flesh and blood baby boy.

Yes, the flash and celebration of Christmas is over but the truth is that God didn’t come to live in some kind of special holy bubble. God came to us to live a life just like ours with ordinary flesh and blood.

St Paul writes, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. And because you are children God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying Abba Father so you are no longer a slave but a child and if a child then also an heir through God.

Rather than waiting up in the high glory of heaven for us ordinary humans to climb our way to him, to be perfect enough to reach him, God came down to us. The Son of God was born in the same human way we all are born because he chose to come to us. We can never climb to heaven but God can and does climb down to us and brings heaven with him. God breaks into our ordinary world, not just on Christmas or other high holy days but our ordinary every day lives, and makes the ordinary holy.