Are You Listening?

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Are You Listening?” Mark 9:2-9

No one teaches us how to listen. As children, we are told to listen to our parents, and we are sent off to school with the expectation that we will listen to our teachers. But rarely will anyone sit down with a child and offer some practical wisdom on how to listen. Our expectation for kids is that listening will come naturally, but true listening is a skilled discipline. It takes practice, openness, and commitment.

One of the core class series that I have taught with our deacons over the years is “Listening Skills.” Good listening involves creating the space within ourselves to hear what the other has to say. We follow the person whom we are listening to, giving them our attention and setting aside our desire to talk back and interrupt. Listening also demands that we attend to non-verbal communication: hand gestures, eye contact, tone of voice, even the pace at which something is shared. When we listen, we respond with verbal check-ins, paraphrasing what someone has said to make sure that we got it right. We might also ask some clarifying questions if we feel confused or need more information. A good listener will withhold judgment and refrain from giving advice. They’ll also be willing to sit in silence. Until we master the basics, good listening can feel hard work, but it equips us to be exceptional caregivers, just ask anyone who has been truly listened to by one of our deacons.

There are great relational benefits to listening. We better understand the other person’s point of view and can respond with empathy. We recognize that the conversation is more about the other person than about us. We gain a better understanding of problems and may be able to collaborate to develop solutions. Not only are our relationships strengthened and deepened, those we listen to feel emotionally supported and valued.

On this Transfiguration Sunday, Mark’s gospel tells us that Peter was having a hard time listening. There on the mountaintop, Jesus was revealed in dazzling glory and joined by Elijah and Moses, the greatest prophet and the wisest teacher in scripture. It was an awesome and holy moment. I love reading the story of the Transfiguration in the King James Version of the Bible, which says that the disciples were “sore afraid.”

But Peter’s silence didn’t last long. If the appearance of Moses and Elijah signaled the end of the age, if Jesus was filled with God’s glory, then there was work to do on the mountaintop. There were shelters to build and an advertising campaign to launch. Peter could see it all: those heroes of the faith ensconced in their booths, the mountain thronged with pilgrims, the word of God flowing down the slopes and out into the world. It would be glorious. But all those plans ground to a halt as a cloud swept over them and the voice of God spoke. “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him!”  C. Clifton Black, who teaches Biblical Theology at Princeton Seminary, likes to point out that this is the only place in the Gospel of Mark where God speaks directly to the disciples. It’s important, both a declaration of love and an imperative to listen.

Perhaps the reason that Peter was having trouble listening was that he didn’t like what he had been hearing. Just six days earlier, while they were on the road to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus disclosed that he would suffer and die a terrible death before being raised. Horrified that the man whom he had rightly identified as the Messiah would make such a prediction, Peter tried to talk Jesus out of it. That didn’t go so well. Jesus silenced him with the words, “Get behind me, Satan.” On the mountaintop, Peter imagined a way out of the coming suffering: building of booths, create of a safe sanctuary where the ways of the Kingdom could be made known and carried down into the world. But according to Jesus, and now God Almighty, there would be no escaping the cross.

Listening! Not only does no one teach us how to listen, it’s also especially hard to listen when we don’t want to hear the message. Let’s be honest, there are teachings of Jesus that we could listen to all day. Love God. Love your neighbor. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. But there are plenty of Jesus’s words that we would rather not hear. Follow. Forgive those who have wronged you. Feed the hungry masses. It’s best to be last, not first. Turn the other cheek. Do not be afraid. Only believe. All those teachings are easier said than done, Jesus. This listening business is hard. Jesus sets before us the way of life and the goals of the kingdom, and we don’t want to hear about it.

Our struggle to listen is deeply ingrained in a cultural world that emphasizes doing over being. When we are in “doing” mode, we are goal oriented and achievement motivated. Our credo is “Git Er Done,” the catchphrase of the comedian Larry the Cable Guy. Git Er Done! Take action and get things accomplished. Be proactive and don’t slow down, even when faced with emotional turmoil. Just keep moving forward until you have achieved success!

When we are in “doing mode,” we find ourselves saying, “I have to . . . I must . . . I should . . . I ought . . . I need to. Dr. Zinder Segal, Distinguished Professor of Psychology at the University of Toronto, says that the problem with “doing” is that we aren’t all there in the present moment. We’re mentally off to what is next. In fact, we may even switch into “doing mode” to escape tough emotions, like grief, sadness, fear, hurt, disappointment, and anger. Does any of this sound familiar? But when we are focused on what to do next, we miss the “full multidimensional splendor” of the moment. We are like Peter on the mountaintop, who couldn’t be present to the awe-inspiring revelation of Jesus in his glory because he was already planning his big building project.

The antidote to our compulsive doing is “being.” The catch phrase here is from Psalm 62, “For God alone my soul waits in silence.” In “being mode,” our attention shifts from what comes next to the present moment. We accept and allow what is, without the pressure to change it. The moment is experienced in its full depth, width, and richness. We truly see, we really hear, we listen. We stop the driven doing. We don’t miss out on the people and places that surround us. We don’t wish away our lives thinking about the next big event. We find the space to listen to God and one another. Pastor and evangelist John Warden teaches that, “Our identity is not in what we do but in who we are as sons and daughters in Christ. To pursue God’s way is to be people of ‘being’ over people of ‘doing.’”

Dominican leader and author Richard Rohr is the founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in New Mexico. It’s an educational nonprofit that teaches the contemplative Christian path of transformation. Rohr believes that the way of God’s Kingdom is found when we find the right balance of “doing” and “being.” We begin with being, with contemplation the practice of holy listening. We rely on the heart instead of the head. In contemplation, we prayerfully let go of our sense of control and choose instead to cooperate with God and God’s work in the world. From contemplation, God calls us to action. Being leads to doing, leads to our service to God’s Kingdom. In fact, the more we grow in our capacity for listening with the ear of our heart, the greater our capacity for world-changing social action.

If Richard Rohr is right, then Jesus took Peter, James, and John to the mountaintop to listen with their hearts. Jesus took his friends to the mountain to find in that prayerful being the courage to follow Jesus back down into the valley that would lead to the cross. If Richard Rohr is right, then our practice of being can also lead to doing. We can make the time to listen to Jesus and find the holy purpose that God holds for our lives.

No one teaches us to listen, but today’s reading from Mark’s gospel suggests that it’s never too late. If we aren’t sure how to listen to Jesus, we can use the same steps that we practice when we want to truly listen to one another. We’ll stop what we are doing and create the space within ourselves to hear what Jesus has to say. We’ll follow Jesus, attending to his words in scripture, listening in times of quiet prayer, and expressing our devotion in worship, giving him our full attention. We might want to ask clarifying questions, by digging into Bible Study, reading what scholars have to say, talking with spiritual friends, or checking in with a pastor. As good listeners, we’ll withhold judgment and refrain from thinking we know better than Jesus. We’ll be willing to sit in silence and unknowing. We’ll trust that when the time is right, our listening will flow forth in holy action, to the glory of God and for the good of our neighbors. Are we listening? May it be so.

Resources:

C. Clifton Black. “Commentary on Mark 9:2-9 in Preaching This Week, Feb. 11, 2018. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/transfiguration-of-our-lord-2/commentary-on-mark-92-9-4

Arlin Cuncic. “7 Active Listening Techniques for Better Communication” in Verywell Mind, Nov. 9, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-active-listening-3024343

Sarah Henrich. “Commentary on Mark 9:2-9 in Preaching This Week, Feb. 19, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 9:2-9 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Zindel Segal. “Being vs Doing: The Difference Between ‘Being’ and ‘Doing,’” in Mindful: Healthy Mind, Healthy Life, Dec. 18, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.mindful.org/difference-between-being-and-doing/


Mark 9:2-9

2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. 9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.


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Quiet Time

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Quiet Time” Mark 1:29-39

The evidence is in. Prayer is good for us. Dr. Andrew Newberg, the author of How God Changes Our Brains: Breakthrough Findings from a Leading Neuroscientist has found that twelve minutes of personal reflection and prayer has a profound impact on our brains. Prayer enhances our neuroplasticity, the brain’s capacity to grow and develop at all ages. It also increases blood flow to the frontal lobes and anterior cingulate cortex, those areas of our brain that are essential for our fundamental cognitive processes, including motivation, decision making, learning, cost-benefit calculation, as well as conflict and error monitoring. You might even say that a robust prayer life boosts brain health and equips us to learn, grow, and develop as people.

Prayer isn’t just good for the brain; it’s good for the whole body. It’s good for our heart and lungs. Prayer reduces our heart rate, synchronizes our breath and heartbeat, and has been clinically proven to reduce blood pressure. Prayer benefits our endocrine system, too. It stimulates the body’s production of helpful hormones, like melatonin to regulate sleep, serotonin to boost our mood, and oxytocin, that feel-good hormone that we experience when we snuggle a child or a puppy. Prayer may also keep us healthy and promote healing. Studies have found a correlation between prayer and an increase in our body’s immune response.

Prayer may even help us in the workplace. It has the power to reduce stress levels and curb anxiety. Prayer can make us less reactive to criticism and the negative moods of others. It enhances our critical thinking and even gives our self-esteem a boost. Neuroscientist Andrew Newberg, says he isn’t sure if God exists. He can’t prove that in a lab, but he can prove that our belief and prayerful engagement with God are fundamentally good for us in body, mind, and spirit.

Jesus didn’t need a neuroscientist to tell him that prayer was good for him. Today’s reading from the first chapter of Mark continues the story that we began last week of a very full day of ministry in Capernaum. First, Jesus wowed worshippers by teaching. He made the scriptures come alive in ways that felt authentic and authoritative. Then, Jesus helped a man who had been troubled by an unclean spirit, healing and restoring him to his right mind.

Jesus had earned an afternoon of sabbath, but as soon as they entered Peter’s house, he learned that someone was sick. Peter’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, an illness that in the first century could be life-threatening at worst and a crisis for sharing hospitality at best. Undeterred by the report of illness, Jesus went to the woman’s bedside and, in a private moment of compassion, lifted her up, a minor miracle that left the woman eager to serve the Lord.

You know how people like to talk. It wasn’t long before word had spread from one side of Capernaum to the other. So, at sunset as the sabbath ended, the door to Peter’s house was thronged by folks in need of every sort of healing and deliverance.

What comes next is important. We might expect Jesus to rest up and sleep late. We might expect him to enjoy a leisurely breakfast with his new disciples, cooked up by that doting mother-in-law. We might expect him to take a victory lap in Capernaum, checking in on all those people he helped. But Jesus doesn’t do any of those things. Rather, we find him in a deserted place, spending some quiet time with God in prayer.

Those prayerful times of retreat would become characteristic of Jesus’ ministry. Even before he preached his first sermon or worked his first miracle, Jesus spent forty days in the wilderness, communing with God. Before naming the inner circle of his disciples, Jesus spent an all-nighter in prayerful discernment. After feeding the 5,000, Jesus sent his friends ahead and lagged behind for some private prayer time. On the night of his arrest, Jesus would pray, face down in the garden of Gethsemane, pleading with God for the strength to face the cross. Even while dying, Jesus prayed, asking God to forgive his executioners. Jesus was a man of prayer, and he encouraged his friends to do likewise. He hoped his friends would see that God was with them on the journey and with God they would find the courage and grace to meet each day. He even gave us a simple formula for talking to God that we use every Sunday: the Lord’s Prayer.

We know all this. We know that Jesus was the ultimate prayer warrior. We know that the Lord taught his followers to pray. We probably even know that prayer is good for us. Yet we struggle with cultivating a practice and discipline of prayer. Our spiritual forefather John Calvin taught that this is part of the legacy of our total depravity and original sin – that we are incapable of doing good until the Spirit moves within us.

I’m not so sure about Calvin’s conclusion. I am more inclined to agree with author and prayer expert Richard Foster, who compares our reluctance to find the quiet time to be with God to walking through a shopping mall with a two-year-old, something he did one day with a dear friend. The little boy was in one of those fuming and fussy moods that frustrates every parent. The dad tried everything to quiet the child, but nothing worked. At last, he scooped the boy up and held him close to his heart and began to sing a silly, made-up, off-tune song. “I love you! I’m so glad you are my boy. You make me happy. I like the way you laugh.” On and on he sang. The child relaxed and was soothed. When they got to the car later, the father buckled his son into the car seat and the little boy said, “Sing it to me again, Daddy. Sing it to me again.” Foster says that our resistance and God’s persistence are like this. Prayer is “to be gathered up into the arms of the Father and allow[ing] him to sing his love song over us.”

We need to find that daily time to rest in the arms of God, to listen to the heartbeat of the Almighty, and know that we are beloved. We can do what Jesus did, find the quiet moments that can be carved out of even the busiest and most productive of days. Jesus liked to retreat to his quiet places in the morning, while the world was hushed and the sun was a promise on the horizon. That might be your quiet time, too. Or, you may wish to find a quiet place on your lunchbreak to turn away from the rush of your day and turn to those waiting arms of the Almighty. Perhaps you are a night owl. Your thoughts turn to God as the shadows lengthen and the busy day ends. Morning, noon, or night, we are invited to find the quiet time to pray, listen, and be soothed.

Researchers have found a further benefit to prayer. It’s not only good for us; it’s good for others. Researchers at Florida State University determined that prayer helps our marriages. It shifts us from being at odds with one another and reminds us that we are on the same team. Husbands and wives who pray report greater relationship satisfaction. As someone who is celebrating their eighteenth anniversary today, I say, “Who doesn’t want that?” Just twelve minutes of personal reflection and prayer each day are enough to strengthen the neural circuit in our brain that enhances social awareness and empathy. Prayer grants us a heightened sense of compassion and eases negative emotions that we feel about others. Those who reap the greatest mental and physical benefit from prayer are the people who approach God in prayer like Jesus did, looking to the Almighty as our guide, partner, and collaborator on this life’s journey. With God’s help we find the refreshment and balance that are needed to step back into the world for positive action. Dr. Paul Hokemeyer writes that “prayer is the fuel that lights the fire of action.”

When the disciples finally caught up with Jesus in his quiet place, the Lord was refreshed and ready for action. In his prayerful time with his heavenly Father, he discerned that God was calling him onward. There were other people and places in need of his good news and healing love. One sermon at a time, one miracle at a time, one shared meal at a time, one caring interaction at a time, he would draw this fuming and fussy world into the arms of his heavenly parent, so that others might know that they are beloved. May we do the same.

Resources:

Andrade, Chittaranjan. “Prayer and healing: A medical and scientific perspective on randomized controls” in NIH National Library of Medicine, Oct-Dec 2009. Accessed online at https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles.

Beebe, Dr. Gayle D. “How Faith and Prayer Benefit the Brain” in Westmont Magazine, Spring 2012. Accessed online at https://westmont.edu

Bernstein, Elizabeth. “The Science of Prayer” in The Wall Street Journal, May 17, 2020. Accessed online at www.wsj.com

Foster, Richard. Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, San Francisco: Harper, 1992.

Skinner, Matthew. “Commentary on Mark 1:29-39” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 8, 2015. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org

Spector, Nicole. “This Is Your Brain on Prayer and Meditation” in Today: Wellness, Oct. 20, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.nbcnews.com/


Mark 1:29-39

29As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. 32That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And 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. 35In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38He 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.” 39And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.


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Real Authority

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Real Authority” Mark 1:21-28

“Let’s get out of here! Floor it!” My friend Amy yelled in my ear. She had a death grip on my arm that would leave finger-shaped bruises.

I sat there frozen while Dr. Spahr tapped on my driver’s side window.

Dr. Spahr was the ultimate authority at CB West. At a time when dress codes were changing and administrators wore khakis, button down shirts, and blue blazers, Principal Spahr always wore a suit, black or charcoal. His somber neckties popped against starched white shirts. His thick, black-framed glasses might be considered hipster nowadays, but back then, they were seriously old school and uncool. He rarely smiled. He prowled the hallways with a ninja-like stealth that would catch you unaware. A trip to Dr. Spahr’s office could result in detention, suspension, or worse.

You did not want to run into Dr. Spahr when you were up to mischief, especially when you were on school property on a weekend night like we were. There was a collective gasp of anguish from my friends when I rolled down the car window. We were doomed.

Our reading from Mark’s gospel establishes Jesus as the new authority in Capernaum. Jesus was reading and interpreting scripture as a guest teacher at the synagogue on the sabbath day. The excellence of his words impressed everyone. Then, when an unclean spirit spoke out in the midst of the congregation, Jesus silenced it and demonstrated even more authority, driving the demon out of the afflicted man and setting him free. It was a synagogue assembly that no one would forget – great preaching and a miraculous healing, all thanks to Jesus who demonstrated a new and unprecedented authority.

The amazement of the people of Capernaum seems a little naïve to us. After all, we’ve been reading Mark’s gospel. We know that at Jesus’s baptism God spoke from the heavens saying, “This is my Son the Beloved.” And when Jesus was walking along the lakeshore, all he had to do was invite those fishermen to join him and they left everything behind. We expect great things from Jesus when he enters the synagogue. But those people in Capernaum? Not so much.

Those low expectations may have stemmed from the fact that there were plenty of “authorities” in Jesus’ day, but Jesus wasn’t one of them. There was a Roman garrison at Capernaum, and the centurion in charge controlled his men and the village. He wielded authority that came from the empire, with foreign occupation and the threat of violence.

Regional power was held by Herod Antipas, the Roman-appointed tetrarch of Galilee and Perea. Herod held authority to rule and collect taxes to support his kingdom and his emperor, oppressing and imprisoning those who might ask questions or resist his demands.

When it came to matters of religion, all eyes turned to the Temple in Jerusalem.  There, priests held an authority that passed from father to son through the long generations. Standing in the middle between the people and God Almighty, a priest could pronounce you clean or unclean, offer sacrifices to atone for your sins, exclude you from the community of the righteous, or welcome you back home.

And when it came to scripture, authority was best left to the scribes, scholars who spent a lifetime studying the Hebrew Bible and memorizing the long history of biblical interpretation known as the traditions of the elders. The scribe’s authority derived from their eloquence, encyclopedic knowledge, and the prestige of the rabbis with whom they had apprenticed.

Roman commanders, client kings, priests, and scribes, these were the voices of authority for the people who had gathered for worship on that Sabbath morning in Capernaum. Yet one sermon from Jesus and one act of healing had people buzzing. Here was a new authority that made them sit up and notice. Here was an authority unlike any they had seen before.

Perhaps the buzz was about the big difference between how Jesus used his power and how all those first century authorities exercised their power. Jesus didn’t use his authority to exert control or curry political favor. He didn’t use his power to amass a fortune or build an impressive reputation. He didn’t use his authority to elevate himself above others or establish his unparalleled expertise. Instead, that sabbath day in Capernaum revealed that Jesus would use his power for others. He reminded those worshippers of God’s great love for God’s people. He chose to reach out with compassion in response to suffering.  In God’s Kingdom, these are the hallmarks of real authority: to speak in ways that make the love of God known and to act in ways that bring healing and wholeness to others. This is the heart of the ministry that God would empower Jesus to pursue.

This is the sixth time that I have preached on this passage. That’s the blessing and challenge of years of experience. I often like to focus on the choice we face when we read this story, the same choice that those worshippers in Capernaum faced. Will we recognize Jesus’ authority for our lives? Will we build a life around him, placing the Lord at the center of our families and workplaces, our civic commitments and even the choices we make in the voting booth. It isn’t an easy thing to do, because it requires us to make some tough decisions about all those other authorities out there, the ones that would like to run our show. Year in and year out, I see this congregation making the tough choice to put God at the center, establishing the priorities that Jesus hoped his first listeners would make.

This time through the lectionary cycle, I have been thinking beyond our choice to affirm Jesus as Lord to questions about our own authority. Whether we are parents or grandparents, teachers or managers, community leaders or healthcare providers, elders or deacons, we have each been entrusted with authority. We choose daily how we will use the power that is at our disposal. Will we make God’s love known? Will we act with compassion to ease the suffering of others? I think these are the most essential questions in the life of faithful people. The choice for love, the practice of compassion, I think this is the heart of the ministry that God would empower us to pursue.

At the start of this message, I left myself rolling down the car window to face the authority of the totally terrifying Dr. Spahr. What kind of principal hangs out at school on a Saturday evening just to spoil the shenanigans of high school pranksters? He was even wearing his suit! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a can of spray paint roll out from under the passenger seat—a fact that the eagle-eyed Dr. Spahr would be sure to notice.

Dr. Spahr recognized me right away. We went to the same church, and my Mom had taught at the high school for a number of years. Once the window was down, the conversation went something like this.

Dr. Spahr: Why, Joann! What are you doing on school property in the middle of a Saturday night?

Everyone in the car: Nothing!

We were busted. There was no getting around it. I saw a future of detentions ahead of me. If the spray paint was brought into evidence, we were talking suspension. If it became known that although I was in the driver’s seat, I did not have a driver’s license, then who knew what horrors awaited me.

I must have looked pretty pitiful. I was an honors student, but things weren’t great at home, and Dr. Spahr knew it. The acrimony between my parents was showing up in some unfortunate ways in us kids. I wasn’t the only case in point. My brother had been in the dreaded office of Dr. Spahr twice that year, once for fighting and another time for setting off a fire extinguisher in a hallway (which was probably also related to fighting). That really did result in a suspension. My goose was cooked.

Dr. Spahr gave me a long hard look. He peered off into the night through those thick black glasses. He was clearly weighing his options. Finally, he sighed and patted the driver’s side door. “You girls go home,” he said. “I don’t want to hear about any more trouble.” He looked pointedly at what had rolled out from under the seat. We wasted no time, dropping the car into gear and driving off into the dark.

I’ve thought about Dr. Spahr over the years, all that authority at CB West. On at least one Saturday night, he helped a teenager know the love of God and the compassion that Jesus would have us extend to one another.

Resources:

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 29, 2012. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 1, 2015. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Stephen Hultgren. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 1, 2009. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

David S. Jacobsen. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 28, 2024. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary


Mark 1:21-28

21They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. 22They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 23Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, 24and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” 25But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” 26And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. 27They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” 28At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.



Teambuilding

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Teambuilding” Mark 1:14-20

Teambuilding began in the United States in the early twentieth century. The early behavioral psychologist Elton Mayo conducted a series of experiments to determine if workplaces could be changed to increase productivity and yield greater profits. Dr. Mayo tested his theories at Hawthorne Works, a large factory complex of the Western Electric Company in Cicero, Illinois. Hawthorne employed 45,000 workers, mass-producing telephone equipment. The factory had a diverse workforce: Czech immigrants, longtime working-class Chicagoans, and African Americans who had migrated north from the deep south.

Dr. Mayo began his testing by changing the physical environment of workers. He altered lighting and manipulated the humidity of the workplace, but physical changes had little or no affect. Next, he expanded the study to observe social and emotional factors that might have an impact upon workers, like their interactions with managers and co-workers. Dr. Mayo hit paydirt.

Building relationships between leaders and workers inspired feelings of teamwork. Leaders saw their role as providing vital support for teammates. Workers developed a sense of responsibility to colleagues. All that led to positive changes in employee performance. Not only were workers more productive, but they also had a greater sense of satisfaction in the workplace. Bonds nurtured at work also led to diverse, lasting friendships in the community.

The experiments revolutionized industry and launched a century of teambuilding efforts. Today teambuilding is a core concept of organizational development and management. Teambuilding exercises are an integral part of training for the US Army, professional athletics, and corporate, as well as non-profit, workplaces.

Jesus knew the importance of building a team to follow and work alongside him in ministry.  In our reading from Mark’s gospel, Jesus began his own teambuilding.  As Jesus walked the shores of the Sea of Galilee, he noticed brothers Peter and Andrew casting their fishing nets.  Jesus saw something he liked. He called them to follow him. Immediately, they joined him.  Just a little farther along the shoreline, Jesus ran into another set of brothers—James and John, mending nets with their father Zebedee.  Soon they, too, had joined the team, leaving their family and fishing boat behind. There would be other disciples: Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, Little James, Thaddeus, Simon, and Judas. Eventually, there would be twelve disciples serving in what scholars call the “inner circle” of Jesus’ ministry.

For sixteen centuries, faithful people described what Jesus did with the disciples as a summoning to vocation—where vocation meant the calling to a consecrated, religious life, as a priest or nun. With the Protestant Reformation, all that changed. First Martin Luther and then John Calvin taught that all Christians have a vocation or calling to use our God-given gifts in our secular workplaces and in the congregations that we affiliate with. The minister who preaches the gospel has a calling, but so do the musicians who enhance our worship and the Sanctus workers who dust the pews. Team Jesus calls us all.

The disciples made a diverse group. Perhaps the only thing they had in common was their shared heritage as Israelites. Peter, Andrew, James, and John earned their living on the Sea of Galilee, casting nets or towing dragnets to yield a harvest of freshwater fish. Matthew was, of course, a tax collector. He straddled the uncomfortable gap between the ruling elite and the everyday people, collecting taxes from his neighbors to finance Herod’s building projects or pay for the Roman occupation. The name Bartholomew means Son of the Furrows (or fields). He was a farmer. Simon, often called Simon the Zealot, was a bit of a radical, affiliated with the resistance group that would eventually revolt against the Roman occupation. Jesus knew it would take a variety of people to build his team and serve the Kingdom.

Our team has diversity, too. We serve (or have served) in schools as teachers, counselors, and administrators. We are healers: nurses, doctors, researchers, and home health aides. We are civil servants who have served the APA, DEC, or our local governments. We are businesspeople, running small businesses, programming computers, or sharing our expertise as consultants. Somehow those differing vocations have found a spiritual home and shared purpose right here.

The disciples on Team Jesus had differing gifts. Peter was a leader: the first to know that Jesus was the Messiah, the first to retreat to Galilee after the crucifixion, and the first to avow his love when the risen Lord found him on the lakeshore a second time. Philip had the gift of reaching out; no sooner had he found Jesus than he was inviting his friend Nathanael to come and see this rabbi who just might be the Messiah. Thomas asked the big questions, but he also had the gift of loyalty: he followed Jesus to Jerusalem, even when he expected the worst. John had the gift of love, laying his head upon the Lord’s breast in companionable silence and standing at the foot of the cross with the women. It would take a variety of gifts to achieve Jesus’ purpose. All were valued and needed.

We, too, are a people of differing gifts. We may be richly blessed with musical gifts. Or, we may we have a passion for learning and studying scripture. We may have the patience to teach and work with children. We have gifts for good cooking, yummy baking, and warm hospitality. We care–our warm sympathy overflows for folks in tough times. We are generous, sharing of our resources and money. In the sharing of our differing gifts, churches like this thrive, and Jesus is known.

Somehow, Jesus forged the diverse and differently gifted disciples into a team that would change the world. There were some teambuilding exercises along the way. They learned to depend upon one another when he sent them out in pairs to teach and heal. They learned to trust in his power and presence when their boat was rocked by a rising storm. They learned that they could feed hungry people by sharing their meager resources and believing that with Jesus just a little could be enough. Jesus built his team to minister at his side, but even more so, he built a team that, in the long years to come, could minister even when he wasn’t right there, telling them what to do.

Team Jesus was wildly successful, with productivity and profits far outpacing the biggest dreams of Dr. Elton Mayo and those early twentieth century captains of industry. Peter would appoint himself chief among apostles to the Hebrew people, but the Holy Spirit had bigger things in mind. From the household of the Roman Centurion Cornelius in Caesarea Maritime to the household of the emperor in Rome, Peter would lead the charge of the early church into new territory. John would plant a church in Israel whose loving bonds would survive terrible persecution. John would successfully lead his congregation into exile, from Israel across the Mediterranean to western Turkey. There he would write at least three letters that we continue to cherish today, and his memories of Jesus would eventually be recorded in the Gospel that bears his name. Bartholomew never went back to farming. He teamed up with his fellow disciple Thaddeus to venture as far as India with the gospel message. Along the way, they planted the seeds of faith in Armenia, which became the first Christian nation in the year 301. Simon the Zealot left behind his political aspirations. He traveled to Egypt and North Africa and planted churches from Cairo to Alexandria to Cyrene. Some traditions say that Simon traveled on to Spain and then Britain where he shared about his life with Jesus until he lost his own life, crucified by the Romans in the year 61CE. What a team! They took the good news from one end of the Roman Empire to the other—and beyond.

Our team may not travel as far afield in the Lord’s purpose, but our differing gifts have been shared in ways that have made a life-changing difference for others. The good news that we share with our children in Sunday School, Youth Group, and confirmation provides a foundation of faith that will sustain them as they go off to school, embark on professional endeavors, and start families of their own. Our passion for feeding hungry people has motivated us to grow bushel upon bushel of beans at the Jubilee Garden, fill the pack basket with monthly food offerings, create a permanent home for the Saranac Lake Food Pantry, and make a dent in global hunger through CROP Walk and Church World Service. Our commitment to caring makes a loving difference. It prompts deacons to reach out to homebound friends, inspires prayer chain warriors to pray fervently, sends us forth with summer bouquets for folks who need love, and equips us to comfort families at the time of death. What a team! We are good news for a world still deeply in need of the love and mercy of Jesus.

As the New Year unfolds, so will the teambuilding efforts of the world around us. The army will build cohesiveness among recruits by inviting them to work together to carry super heavy loads that can’t be handled alone or by dropping units off in the middle of nowhere with orders to return to base forthwith. Athletic managers will build trust and mutual respect among their professional athletes by giving them each a few clues, locking them together in an escape room, and giving them an hour to get out. Titans of industry will hope to unlock productivity and profits by scheduling teambuilding retreats for their employees. Participants will try exchanging warm fuzzies (compliments), meditating, and facing the physical challenge of a ropes course.

I suspect that Jesus will continue to build his team right here at the First Presbyterian Church. He’ll inspire us to welcome diversity. He’ll celebrate our differing gifts. He’ll delight as we get busy in his purpose. Go, Team Jesus!

Resources

Michael Rogness. Commentary on Mark 1:14-20” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 25, 2015. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Cynthia Briggs Kittredge. “Commentary on Mark 1:14-20” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 21, 2018. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Alicia Vargas. “Commentary on Mark 1:14-20” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 21, 2024. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Feli Oliveros. “What is Team Building? How to Build Stronger, Cohesive Teams in 2023” in Talkshop, July 29, 2023. Accessed online at https://gusto.com

Angela Robinson. “History of Team Building” in teambuilding, Sept. 27, 2022. Accessed online at https://teambuilding.com.


Mark 1:14-20

14Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” 16As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. 17And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” 18And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.


Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com

I Am with You

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “I Am with You” Matthew 28:16-20

The world longs for peace.

It’s been 100 days since the outbreak of the Israel-Hamas War. On October seventh, Hamas militants swept out of Gaza and into southern Israel, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction. 1,200 people were killed and 250 hostages abducted. In response, Prime Minister Netanyahu declared war. With heavy bombardment and a ground invasion of Gaza, the Israeli Defense Force seeks to root out the Hamas threat and keep Israel safe.

Caught in the crossfire are civilians. Experts say the Israeli bombing of Gaza is among the most intense in modern history. More than 23,000 Palestinians have been killed. Two-thirds of those casualties have been women and children. Thousands more remain missing or badly wounded. Half of Gaza’s buildings have been damaged or destroyed. 80% of the population is displaced. Schools are closed. The healthcare system is near collapse, with only 15 of 36 hospitals still functioning.  One quarter of the people are starving. Halima Abu Daqa, a displaced Palestinian woman, sheltering with her family in a tent camp near the border with Egypt laments, “We have been deprived of everything. Everything has changed and nothing remains.”

On the Israeli side, civilians have contended with 14,000 Hamas missiles lunched against southern cities. Confidence in the Israeli government, which failed to act on a warning about the coming attack, has plummeted. Men and women have been called up to active military duty. 314 soldiers have been killed. Skepticism is growing in Israel about the kind of military victory that can really be achieved. Vigils and public outcry call for action to free the 130 Israelis who remain prisoners of Hamas. Families of hostages are among the voices calling to put combat on hold and strike an immediate deal with Hamas to free the hostages. Udi Goren, whose cousin was killed on October seventh, says, “We’re talking about a war that’s now going on in an urban area that has about 2 million refugees and hostages. The [Israeli military] is fighting with [its] hand tied behind its back. It’s very clear that we need to find a ladder to climb down.”

The world longs for peace this morning. In the face of the world’s warring madness, we have the audacity to celebrate a Sunday that is dedicated to the making of peace. Since 1983, the Presbyterian Peacemaking Program has been working with partners around the world to provide humanitarian support and disaster assistance to war plagued people and places. Beyond the war zone, Presbyterian Peacemakers seek an end to human trafficking, racism, and the tragedy of displacement and economic crisis driven by climate change.

This church’s commitment to peacemaking began more than thirty years ago. In 1990, the late Rev. Dick Stone led a Bible Study on peacemaking with this congregation. Dick and the participants in that study convinced the session to make the commitment to peacemaking, inviting us to work for peace in our families, communities, and even in the international arena. The elders voted and made it official. We are peacemakers.

Our calling to be peacemakers is grounded in the teachings of Jesus. Reading Matthew’s gospel is like a master class in peacemaking. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. Turn the other cheek. Before you do anything else, go to your alienated neighbor and be reconciled. Forgive seventy times seven, which basically means forgive others without limits. These are the words of Jesus. They are a clear call to peacemaking and an anticipation of the peaceable kingdom that the Lord would have us forge on earth as it is in heaven.

Living into those words isn’t easy. Our whole-hearted commitment to God can get pushed to the margins by the demands of family, work, and civic engagement. In this politically fraught climate, it feels tough to trust our neighbors and love them as ourselves. Do we really have to love our enemies? Jesus, you must not have met them. Be reconciled? We would rather steer clear of our alienated neighbors, friends, or family members and pretend they don’t exist. Limitless forgiveness? It’s a whole lot easier to forgive when we get a public apology, so that the world can know that we are right. Jesus may have taught us the things that make for peace, but putting them into practice, embracing that radical ethic of peacemaking, can feel easier said than done. Help us, Jesus.

In our reading from Matthew’s gospel, the risen Lord gave his friends an assignment that must have felt just as daunting as our calling to be peacemakers. Jesus sent his friends out into the world, not just to their Jewish neighbors but to all the nations—that means gentiles. The gospel of God’s great love for all people needed to be shared and the disciples were the people to do it. They would need to talk about their experience and belief with complete strangers who seemed likely to reject them as religious fanatics. Then, through baptism the disciples were to welcome a growing crowd of people who never mixed into the family of God. I imagine the disciples, especially those who struggled with doubt, found themselves thinking as we might: that great commission sounds easier said than done, Jesus.

Jesus assured his friends that they were more than enough to meet the challenge. It wasn’t that they were gifted public speakers or had access to the halls of power. It wasn’t that they had charismatic personalities or had spent their lives studying the Torah. Rather, Jesus’ friends would be fine because Jesus would be with them always. By the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus would meet them where they were and as they were. His great love for them would follow them, even to the end of the age. Bible scholars like to call these words of Jesus the “promise of eschatological presence.” Jesus is with us always.

The “promise of eschatological presence”? Those are some fancy theological words, but when we think about it, we know the nearness of Jesus. We feel his presence in times of prayer and contemplation. We sense his wonder in our forays into the beauty of God’s creation. We know he is with us on Sunday mornings as scripture is proclaimed and the Lord’s Supper is shared. We feel Jesus’s love when others love us at our most unlovable. Jesus is there when someone turns the other cheek to our bad behavior. Jesus is there when we find common ground with our alienated friend. Jesus taps us on the shoulder when we find the courage to seek forgiveness and accept the grace of others. The presence of Jesus equipped his disciples to go forth with God’s love; the presence of Jesus equips us to go forth as peacemakers.

Just as we trust that Jesus is with us, the Presbyterian Peacemaking Program allows us to be with others around the world who are desperately in need of peace, safety, and love. In November, Presbyterian Peacemaking and Presbyterian Disaster Assistance reported that they were partnering with the Middle East Council of Churches to provide humanitarian assistance amid the Israel-Hamas War. Emergency food and hygiene kits have been distributed to displaced people. Damaged housing is being repaired. Churches and community centers, that have been hosting homeless families, are receiving much-needed support. Medical and hospital supplies have been shared. Counseling help has supported those traumatized by the conflict.

For 2024, the PCUSA is teaming with the ACT Alliance to continue this work on a broader scale. ACT stands for Actions by Churches Together. It is a partnership of 145 church groups in 127 countries who are committed to peace and human security. With ACT, we have pledged $5 million in humanitarian assistance to the conflict in the Middle East with a goal of improving the lives of 50,000 individuals. Our contributions to Peacemaking are a visionary statement that, like Jesus, we are committed to being with others, even when life feels overwhelming and the way forward is hard to see.

The world longs for peace this morning. Jesus has hope for us. He has taught us the things that make for peace and promised to be with us. I trust that the Lord can even be at work in the chaos and pain of the Israel-Hamas War. Jesus is with displaced people, like Halima Abu Daqa, who have lost everything. Jesus is with concerned Israelis, like Udi Goren, who seek a way forward to end the violence. May we be a part of the peace.

Resources

Ephrain Agosto. “Exegetical Perspective on Matthew 28:16-20” in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, vol. 2, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press), 2013.

Daniel Estrin. “Israelis are increasingly questioning what war in Gaza can achieve” in NPR Special Series: Middle East Crisis Explained, January 11, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.npr.org/2024/01/11/1223636086/israel-hamas-war-gaza-victory

Josel Federman. “In 100 days, the Israel-Hamas war has transformed the region. The fighting shows no signs of ending” in the Associated Press World News, January 13, 2024. Accessed online at https://apnews.com/article/israel-hamas-war-100-days-palestinians-takeaways-05422978a87ab52d51df152bc9248a7f

Julia Frankel. “As Israel-Hamas war reaches 100-day mark, here’s the conflict by numbers” in the Associated Press World News, January 13, 2024. Accessed online at https://apnews.com/article/war-gaza-israel-hamas-100-numbers-death-c4d6d42269c3cd6bf74d4e6fc612114e

Martha Moore-Keish. “Theological Perspective on Matthew 28:16-20” in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, vol. 2, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press), 2013.

Scott O’Neal.  “Presbyterian Mission Agency ministries authorize funds to support relief efforts in Israel-Palestine” in Presbyterian News Service, Nov. 8, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.presbyterianmission.org/

William H. Willimon. “Pastoral Perspective on Matthew 28:16-20” in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, vol. 2, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press), 2013.


Matthew 28:16-20

16Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”


attribution: AP Photo, Hatern Ali, accessed online at https://apnews.com/article/israel-hamas-war-100-days-palestinians-takeaways-05422978a87ab52d51df152bc9248a7f

Torn Open

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Torn Open” Mark 1:4-11

Elena Bernal was not looking forward to the holidays. The sixty-six-year-old was widowed three years ago in December. Home feels quiet and lonely now, especially at Christmas. Elena breaks down in tears, just thinking about her loss. “We grew up together,” she says of her late husband, “We met in middle school. I miss him so much.”

The world is in the midst of a loneliness epidemic. A Meta-Gallup poll released in October conducted in 142 countries found that one quarter of the world’s population reports feeling very or fairly lonely. The statistics are even higher in the United States. In May, the Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy released a report indicating that half of Americans report experiencing loneliness.

There are a number of reasons for our national surge in loneliness. In this post-pandemic world, more people are working and learning remotely. We’re communicating more remotely, too, with Facetime and Zoom replacing meetings, visits, and face-to-face gatherings. Larger societal changes further contribute to the problem of loneliness. The social media boom, which presents a distorted, idealized vision of the daily life of others, has us scrolling on our phones rather than picking up our phones to make a call to our friends and family. More of us live alone these days. In 1960, only 13% of Americans lived by themselves. Today that number has more than doubled to 29% of us. We may feel it is tougher to form genuine connections, too. In 1972, 45% of us trusted our neighbors. In the midst of the increasing political and social division of our nation, only about 30% of us now say that our neighbors are trustworthy.

Loneliness is bad for our health. It puts us at increased risk for depression, anxiety, addiction, self-harm, and even suicide. The Surgeon General’s report indicates that loneliness increases the risk of premature death by 26%. It’s worse for us than obesity or inactivity. Dr. Murthy compares loneliness to smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. It increases our risk of heart disease by 29%, our risk of stroke by 32%, and among the elderly, the risk of dementia doubles. Feelings of loneliness have seen the greatest increase among those aged 19 to 29. Half of young adults say that in the last week no one had taken more than a few moments to reach out to them or express any sort of genuine care.

If the Meta-Gallup poll and the US Surgeon General are right, then addressing the epidemic of loneliness and isolation is critical to the world’s well-being.

I suspect that there were feelings of loneliness and isolation at play in the crowds who came to hear the fiery preaching of John the Baptist. John spoke boldly of existential loneliness, the alienation and isolation that come when we feel that we are separated from God and our neighbors. In fact, John proclaimed a bold message of repentance, of returning to right relationship with God and community.

Jesus came to the muddy banks of the River Jordan.  He took a seat among the crowds and listened to what John had to say.  Throngs of pilgrims, the whole Judean countryside, had come to gawk at John and listen to his bold exhortation. If we listen up this morning, we can almost hear the rough voice of the Baptizer, the song of the river, and the murmuring of the entranced crowds. Compelled by the power of John’s message, Jesus kicked off his sandals, set aside his staff, bag, and traveling cloak.  He waded into the gritty Jordan to John’s side, and he was baptized. 

We’re told that when Jesus emerged from the river, something extraordinary happened.  The sky was torn open (sxizomenous).  In the Hebrew understanding of the world, the sky was a solid dome, the firmament, established by God at creation.  The Israelites believed that we lived on this side of the firmament while God was on the other. Separate. Holy. Distant. Apart. The Prophet Isaiah gives us a feeling for this separation between God and humanity. When the Israelites lived in exile in Babylon, Isaiah cried out to God, “O, that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1).  At Jesus’ baptism, God tore open the heavens. God entered into the world to reshape it through this humble carpenter from Galilee.

Jesus went forth from his baptism to live a torn-open life, a life marked by compassion and a willingness to be vulnerable with and for others. He identified with those who lived as outsiders. He called fishermen, tax collectors, and peasants to be his disciples. He broke bread with sinners. Jesus advocated for the powerless – welcoming women to his ministry and blessing the children. Jesus healed, ending the physical, social, and spiritual isolation of lepers, demoniacs, and the disabled. The torn-open Jesus confronted empire and Temple, those who wielded brutal power over others, with the promise of a coming Kingdom where power would be used to help and to heal.

Jesus’s choice for a torn-open life was most clearly revealed in his death on the cross. Even as he underwent unimaginable suffering, he thought of others. He welcomed a repentant thief to paradise. He prayed for God to forgive his executioners. Let’s face it. On the cross, Jesus was literally torn open. Nails brutally pierced his hands and feet. A spear was thrust through his side and into his vital organs.  It’s messy and brutal and awful. And we learn the lengths that God will go for our sake, the limitless love of a torn-open God.

At the moment of Christ’s death, we are reminded of his baptism. The curtain in the Temple that sequestered the holy of holies was torn open from top to bottom. We do not hear God’s voice speaking from the heavens, “This is my Son the Beloved;” rather, a Roman soldier at the foot of the cross, who witnessed the compassion and dignity with which Jesus died, pronounced, “Surely, this man was God’s son.” In living a torn-open life, Jesus granted us a vision of the world that God would have us make. It’s a world where faithful people choose to make a difference by facing head-on all that has separated us from God and one another. It’s world where we trust that on the far side of the world’s worst, new life will rise, and we have a role to play in that new creation.

Michael Rogness, who taught preaching for many years at Luther Seminary, likes to point out that to be baptized is to follow Jesus. We, who were sprinkled as infants, confirmed as teens, or chose baptism as adults, have embarked on a life of discipleship. That doesn’t mean that we are perfect or exceptionally pious, walk on water or know every chapter and verse of scripture. Rather, discipleship is that choice for a torn-open life of compassion and caring. It prompts us to feed hungry neighbors, welcome strangers, embrace those who feel like outsiders, and bless children. The torn-open life is a calling to help, to heal, and to love. Always love.

Our choice to follow Jesus in this torn-open life may be the antidote for the world’s epidemic of loneliness. According to the Surgeon General, social connection is the most important tool in overcoming social isolation. Human beings who are embedded in a web of concerned and caring individuals thrive. Our interest and caring for others are as essential to our well-being—and theirs—as the air we breathe and the food we eat. Medical science confirms that the world becomes healthier, physically and mentally, when people are respected and valued, looked after and look out for. Our loving care and interest in others, our choice to be torn open, changes us and changes others. Loneliness ends. We find meaning, purpose, motivation, and hope. We begin to see the world that Jesus would have us make, where the barriers that separate us from our neighbors and disconnect us from God are torn open.

Elena Bernal’s Christmas was a lot better than she expected. She accepted an invitation to attend Christmas lunch at the Serving Seniors Wellness Center in Cortez Hills where she lives. Serving Seniors is a nonprofit organization that is dedicated to helping low-income seniors. They provide nutritious food, but they believe the social interaction and hospitality that are shared when they break bread together is even more important. Elena ran into an old friend Gwendolyn King at the lunch. The two women visited and shared news as they enjoyed a traditional holiday meal. Alan Busteed, looking dapper in a three-piece suit, moved from table to table playing carols on his violin and taking requests. As Elena left, she was given a Christmas present and a $10 gift card. It was nice, really nice.

The Serving Seniors Wellness Center has a banner that hangs above the buffet. It reads, “Remember, you are a citizen of the world, and everybody needs you. You’ll find happiness in the giving of yourself.” If you ask me, it sounds a lot like a torn-open life.

Resources

Tammy Murga. “Christmas Day can be lonely, quiet for many. Serving Seniors made it a fun one for these San Diegans,” in The San Diego Union-Tribune, Dec. 25, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/

Dr. Vivek Murthy, Julianne Holt-Lunstad, et al. Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation: The Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community. Washington, DC: Office of the Surgeon General, May 2, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/surgeon-general-social-connection-advisory.pdf

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on Mark 1:4-11” in Preaching This Week, January 8, 2012. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Michael Rogness. “Commentary on Mark 1:4-11” in Preaching This Week, January 8, 2012. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Adrianna Rodriguez. “Americans Are Lonely and It’s Killing Them” in USA Today, Dec. 24, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.usatoday.com.

Theresa Coleman. “2023: The Year of the Loneliness Epidemic” in The Week Magazine, December 9, 2023. Accessed online at https://theweek.com.


Mark 1:4-11

4John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” 9In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”


Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Christ the Savior Is Born!

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Christ the Savior Is Born” Luke 2:1-7

Every Christmas Eve, we host a family-friendly service of worship at church for the children and those feeling a bit childlike. This Christmas, we shared the stories of the Angel Gabriel, the shepherds Reuben and Simka, and the Wise Ones. Merry Christmas, my friends!

“The Most Important Message”

As told by Gabriel

Greetings, favored ones! Do I have a story to tell you! Whew! Let me catch my breath. I just flew in from the great beyond.

(Takes a seat in the rocker and pretends to take a big drink from a goblet).

That’s much better. How very nice to meet you! I’m the Angel Gabriel, God’s finest messenger. Whenever there is important news to share, you can count on me to get the word out.

Many, many years ago, God had the most important message of all to share. It was a very difficult time in the life of the Hebrew people. King Herod was in charge and he had to be the greediest and the grouchiest king ever. He loved to build fancy palaces, and who do you think had to pay for them? The people! Herod got richer and richer, but the people got poorer and poorer.

The people dreamed of the day when a true king would come to Israel. In fact, God had long ago promised to send a special child who would grow up to be their king.  This child would speak God’s words to the people. This child would teach them how to love God and love one another.  This child would be holy.  The people so longed for the birth of this child that they used to sing about it,

Sings: “O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel…”

Do you know what Emmanuel means?  It means “God with us.”  This special child to be born to the Hebrew people would remind them that God was with them, even when their lives felt very hard.

One day, God knew that the time was right for this special baby to be born.  Of course, there was only one messenger who could carry news that important: me!

God said, “Gabriel, I have an extra special mission for you.  Go to the village of Nazareth in Galilee.  There you will find a young woman named Mary.”

I have to say that when I heard I had to go to Nazareth, I wondered if God had the right destination. Nazareth! You know what they say about Nazareth: can anything good come from there? It was just a poor and sleepy little village, filled with farmers and carpenters and shepherds. And how would I find the right Mary?   It had to be the most popular name for girls in all of Israel. 

I must have looked like I was confused because God smiled at me. My heart got all warm, my halo began to glow, and I just knew that God had it all figured out. 

God said, “Go to young Mary, who is engaged to the carpenter Joseph, who is descended from the house of King David.  Tell her that I have chosen her from among all the women in Israel to bear a holy child.” 

Well, I was ready to fly off right away, but God stopped me and said, “Gabriel, don’t forget to tell Mary that her baby boy will be the Messiah. She is to name him Jesus because he will save the people from their sins.”

So off I went to Nazareth.  The village was even more miserable than I remembered.  It didn’t seem like a very promising place for the Messiah to be born, but God always knows what God is doing.  Even humble beginnings can lead to great things. 

In Nazareth, I found Mary.  Her mother had sent her to the well to collect water for her family. I must have been a very surprising sight.  Mary looked ready to run away, but I told her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”  That got her attention.

Mary wasn’t much more than a girl, but as I looked into her eyes, I could tell that she was very special.  She was kind and generous. She liked to laugh, and she was very patient with her little brothers and sisters. Best of all, Mary loved God with all her heart.  I knew she was just right for the special mission that God had given her, so I told her, the Holy Spirit would be at work within her and she would give birth to the holy child that the people had longed for all through the long years.

Even though it sounded a little scary and really impossible to have such a special baby, Mary thought hard about the message that I had given her from God.  Then she gave the answer that God was counting on, “Here I am, Lord.  I’m ready to be the mother of that special child.”  Do you remember what that child would be named?

(wait as if to hear the name Jesus)

Right you are!  Jesus!

Well, you know me—God’s finest messenger. Time to deliver some more important news. Gotta go, but I have arranged for some special people to come and tell you all about the birth of that special child Jesus. 

Shalom, my friends!

The Shepherds Hear Good News”

2 shepherds are seated at the campfire.  One sings,

“Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere;

Go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born!”

Reuben:  Hey, we’ve got company!  Come on over, watch out for the lambs.  Take a seat by our campfire. 

Simka:  Did Gabriel send you? I bet you want to hear the story about that special night.  The night when the skies were filled with choirs of angels. They sang for us, sharing good news of great joy.

Reuben:  Those holy sounds are still ringing in my ears. 

Simka: Allow me to introduce myself.  I’m Simka, a shepherd by trade. 

Reuben:  And I’m Reuben.  We tend sheep and goats.  We spend most of our time with the flocks. 

Simka: We have to keep them moving so that they find green grass to nibble, clean water to drink, shade from the noonday sun, and shelter for the night. 

Reuben: (brandishes his staff) Sometimes, I have to keep them safe, too – protect them from wild dogs or even lions. 

Simka: It’s hard work being a shepherd – it takes patience and bravery.  At night, we shepherds bring our flocks together. 

Reuben: We light a small fire, share a meal, tell stories, and take turns watching the animals.  Can’t you just imagine us with the other shepherds at the campfire with our flocks gathered around us? 

Simka: Well, the story that we’re about to tell you is the best story ever.  I know because I was there.

Reuben: So was I!  One night, on the hills just outside of Bethlehem, we were spending the night with our flocks.

Simka: It was dark and quiet on the hillside – just like every night. Then suddenly, there was a great light, shining and sparkling in the sky.  

(Gestures to the sky, pointing to where the angels appeared.)

Reuben: We looked up and saw an angel, a messenger from the Lord. The glory of God shone down upon us, all shimmery and beautiful and good. 

Simka: We were so amazed that we were also very frightened. Nothing like this had ever happened to us before, and we didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or run away – or maybe all three!

Reuben:  The angel could see just how frightened and uncertain we were, so the angel said to us, (speaks in a loud angel voice) “Don’t be afraid. I bring you good news which will be a great joy to all people. Today, in the town of Bethlehem, a Savior has been born, Christ the Lord. This will be the sign for you: you will find the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” 

Simka:  Suddenly, there was a huge crowd of heaven’s angels with the first angel.  They filled the whole sky with their light and their wonderful song, “Glory to God in the highest and peace to God’s people on earth.”  The memory of those angel voices still gives me the shivers!

Reuben: When the angels had left and gone back to the heavens, we looked at one another in amazement.  We pinched ourselves to make sure that we were really awake. 

Simka: Then, we began to wonder.  Could this baby be THE BABY?  You know, the special baby that God had promised to our people, a baby who was God’s child, who would grow up to be a great king for our people. 

Reuben: There was only way to find out. We had to go to Bethlehem and see for ourselves. We left our sheep on the hillside and hurried into the village.

Simka: When we got to Bethlehem, we looked around until we found Mary and Joseph in the stable.  And there he was! The baby Jesus was lying in the manger.

Reuben: It was just as the angel had promised!  This was our newborn king!  Seeing him filled us with hope. We celebrated and told Mary and Joseph all the things that the angels had said about the child.

Simka: Even the animals seemed to find joy and peace in the presence of the baby. I think even the camels were smiling! As wereturned to our flocks, we were filled with joy.  We sang and praised God at the top of our lungs. 

Reuben: The villagers thought we had stopped at the tavern for a libation, but we were just filled with the Holy Spirit.  God had sent a holy child who would be the savior of our people. 

Simka:  Do you know who that child was?

(cups her hand to her ear and waits to hear, “Jesus.”)

That’s right, Jesus!  Holy be his name!

Reuben sings:

“Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere;

Go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born!”

The Wise Ones Seek the Newborn King

Props: a Bible Atlas, bincoulars

The Scene: Two wise men stand at the front of the sanctuary.  One is pondering a Bible Atlas.  The other scans the horizon with the binoculars.

Balthazar (with Atlas):  I wonder what happened to Melchior.  We sent him over to Blue Moon more than an hour ago for bagels and coffee.  I’m hungry!

Caspar (with binoculars):  You know his sense of direction. I bet he got lost.

Balthazar: Hey, Caspar, put those binoculars down. We’ve got company.

Caspar: Greetings honored guests!  (bows humbly)  I’m Caspar, the youngest and most handsome of the Magi. If only Melchior had returned, we would invite you to share breakfast with us.

Balthazar (grandly):  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Balthazar, the wisest of the Magi.  Give me a star chart and a telescope and I can take you from one end of the Milky Way to the other – and back. 

Caspar:  I am only a young and humble learner, yet even I can tell you the secret language of the heavens.  (Listens carefully.)  Ah!  Alpha Centauri just ordered brunch!  Hey! She ordered lox for her bagels! Why didn’t I think of that? I hear the lox is so good at Blue Moon, too!

Balthazar (rolls eyes):  We have spent many, many years learning the mysteries of the heavens. Great Kings call on us for advice.  They wouldn’t so much as launch a ship or build a palace without checking with us first to see if it was in the stars. 

Caspar:  As long as you’re here and we’re waiting for Melchior with the coffee, allow us to tell you about our greatest journey ever.  Back in our homeland Persia, we saw a star.  (points to the heavens) 

Balthazar (stands extra tall with importance):  This was a special star, the star of a king. The heavens were telling us that a child was to be born who would be the king of the Jews!  God had promised this child to the people from of old – a Messiah, a Prince of Peace who would lead the people in paths of peace. 

Caspar:  Like a beacon, the star called us across the desert sands to Israel:  (speaking with the voice of the star) “Balthazar, Caspar, Melchior!  Come, come to Israel to see the little tiny Hebrew King!”

Balthazar (rolls eyes):  So, we left Persia with a great caravan to meet and worship the newborn king.  We brought special treasures, gifts to honor the baby king. 

Caspar:  Gold! Hah, hah!  A king’s ransom!

Balthazar:  Frankincense!  A fragrant offering fit for the holiest of children!

Caspar:  Myrrh! Ooh-hooo! The rarest of oils to anoint the greatest of kings!

Balthazar:  At last, our caravan came to Jerusalem, the holy city.  We stopped at King Herod’s Palace, seeking the newborn king.  But alas!  Herod the Great new nothing of our Messiah.

Caspar:  He was very interested, though, in what we had to say. 

Balthazar:  Herod gave us directions to Bethlehem, the city of David.  Long ago, the Hebrew prophets had foretold that from Bethlehem the true heir of King David would one day arise.

Caspar:  That Herod, what a great guy!  He even wanted us to come back when we found the little king so that he could give him a special present.

Balthazar:  Across the miles from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, we rode our camels through shepherd’s fields and olive groves.  Ahead of us in the night sky, rode the star of wonder.  It led us to the strangest of places.

Caspar:  You see, we believed that we would find the holy child in a great palace, swaddled in silks and tended by an army of nannies.  But God had something different in mind. 

Balthazar:  We found the little king in the humblest of homes.  He had been born in a stable, surrounded by camels, sheep, goats, chickens, and oxen!  His mother was the youngest of maids, not much more than a girl.  Her husband Joseph was a humble craftsman, a carpenter by trade.

Caspar (in awe):  Yet the star stopped and shone its beautiful light upon that humble dwelling, upon that tender babe.  The heavens had brought us to the Lord of the Universe!

Balthazar (confessing):  Even I, the mighty Balthazar – the wisest of the Magi – was overcome by the wonder of that moment and the holiness of the child.

Caspar:  We fell to our knees in worship.  Then we shared our royal gifts.

Balthazar:  We would have stayed in Bethlehem forever to worship him.  Yet we were warned in a dream to leave, to return home by another way.

Caspar:  The heavens told us to avoid King Herod at all costs!  It seems he wasn’t such a nice guy after all.

Balthazar:  Returning by another way brought us to your lovely village, honored guests.

Caspar:  Hey!  I think I smell coffee!  (points to the back of the church) Look!  It’s Melchior.  Hey, can you go back and add lox to my order!

(The Wise Men depart with singing)

“Star of wonder, Star of night, Star with royal beauty bright,

westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light!”


Luke 2:1-20

2In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. 8In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 14“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”[ 15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.]


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Messengers

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Messengers” Mark 1:1-8

When we want to send a message, we pick up our phones and tap out a text. We may even resort to a phone call. For longer messages, we’ll sit down at the computer to send an email. All those modes of communication get the message out instantaneously. If we are old school, we might pick up a pen and write a letter, carefully seal it in an envelope, apply a stamp, and drop it off at the post office, trusting that our snail mail will reach its destination across the country in a matter of days.

To send a message in the ancient near east, you needed a messenger, someone who would carry your words to their intended destination. Messengers traveled long distances on important purposes, sometimes at great risk.

There were royal messengers. In the fifth century BC, the Persian Emperor Darius developed the Royal Road, a network of mounted couriers called the Angarium. They efficiently transmitted imperial messages from Susa in modern-day Iran to Sardis in modern day Turkey. Like the pony express, the mounted messengers of the Angarium worked in relays. They reportedly could make the 1,677-mile journey in nine days, a journey that would take ninety days on foot. The Greek historian Herodotus was so impressed that he wrote, “There is nothing in the world that travels faster than these Persian couriers.” “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” If those words sound familiar, it is because they are sometimes quoted as the unofficial slogan of the United States Postal Service. 

The Romans expanded this early postal system with engineering work that forged lasting roadways along ancient trade routes that dated back thousands of years. The Romans employed military messengers who brought news to and from the battlefield. A messenger with good news carried a laurel wreath, heralding victory. A messenger with bad news attached a feather to his spear, indicating the need for haste. In the year four, when Gaius Caesar, the heir to the Roman throne, died in Lycia, a military messenger bore the news home. Bad weather forced the courier to travel the 1,345 miles overland. His journey took thirty-six days, averaging more than thirty-seven miles a day.

Of course, scripture tells us that there were religious messengers in the ancient world. When God’s word came to the prophets, they felt compelled to speak uncomfortable or surprising truths to humanity. God sent the reluctant Jonah to Nineveh to preach repentance. God sent the Prophet Elijah to trouble King Ahab and Queen Jezebel by denouncing their idolatry. Messengers from God never knew what to expect. In Jonah’s case, his tough message was welcomed and the whole city returned to right living. In Elijah’s case, he spent most of his life on the run or battling the prophets of Baal. It’s a whole lot easier to tap out a text, make a call, send an email, or resort to snail mail. Isn’t it?

Mark’s gospel bypasses our beloved stories of Jesus’s birth.  There is no babe in a manger. No shepherds guarding their flocks by night. No wise ones from the east bearing royal gifts. Instead, Mark gives us a messenger: John.

Like a royal messenger, John conveyed a message from the Kingdom of God to the people of occupied Israel. Mark introduces John with the words of the Prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” When Isaiah first spoke those words, they heralded coming liberation for the Hebrew people. God would soon bring Israel’s time of exile in Babylon to an end, and the Israelites would return to their promised land. It may be lost on us, but to the Israelites, John’s introduction sounded like a promise of coming freedom from Roman occupation.

John’s urgency was that of a military messenger. The battle between good and evil had been won in heaven, but the battle was coming to an earthly battlefield. The one coming after John would confront the forces of empire and temple. Those forces would send God’s champion to his death on a cross. But just when it seemed that the forces of darkness had won the battle, a resurrection miracle would win the victory for God and for us.

John was also a religious messenger. With a camel-hide tunic, unappetizing diet of locusts and honey, and tense message, John fit the description of an Old Testament Prophet, like Elijah, who was expected to return to herald the Messiah. John brought good and bad news, a laurel wreath and the feather. The good news was that the messiah was coming. The bad news was that the people weren’t ready. They needed to repent, to turn their lives around and return to God.

John visits us every Advent. He’s the messenger who stirs a little bah humbug into our Christmas cheer. God sends John into the midst of our shopping and baking, our parties and pageants. John reminds us that we are meant to serve another Kingdom. That Kingdom is coming, whether we are ready or not. John is a timely reminder that our holiday preparations are always best when tempered by our spiritual preparation. John invites us to turn things around, to be centered in God with worship, prayer, study and the desire to be good news for the world around us.

The Apostle Paul characterized Christians as messengers. Paul and his friends would make at least four missionary journeys across the Roman Empire, covering thousands of miles by foot or by sea. In the course of those travels, Paul suffered stoning, beatings, imprisonment, shipwreck, and rejection. In the course of those travels, Paul also established more than twenty churches and launched a tide of caring and good news that today spans the globe.  In his second letter to the church in Corinth, Paul wrote, “We are messengers for Christ. God is using us to call people. So, we are standing here for Christ and begging people, ‘Come back to God’” (2 Cor. 5:20-21). It’s a message worthy of John the Baptist. It’s a message worthy of the second Sunday of Advent.

What might it look like for us to be messengers? I’m not suggesting that we put on John’s camel pelt and dine on locusts and honey. I’m not recommending that we saddle up and ride the Royal Road from Susa to Sardis. We don’t need to tie a laurel wreath or a feather to our spear and rush off with news from the battlefield. But I do believe that the world needs messengers. The world needs faithful people who will listen for God’s voice and speak God’s word. I’d like to suggest three messages that the world needs to hear.

The first message is that we are loved. In this hectic holiday season, not everyone is merry. Christmas for some of us raises painful memories of holidays past. Or, it may make us mindful of who will not be at Christmas dinner: the beloved ones lost to death, the family scattered across the miles, the son deployed to the middle east. Some of us may not feel we have much to celebrate this year: we’re sick, we’re broke, we’re depressed, we’re alone. Amid the merry Christmases, there will be blue Christmases. We are called to bear the message that God chose to be born into our suffering with limitless love. We can share that message with cards and calls, dinner invitations and small gifts, or by welcoming a neighbor to our Longest Night Service on Friday.

The second message worth bearing this Christmas is that God longs for peace on earth. Amid the falling bombs in Gaza, as rebel fighting intensifies in Congo, and the war in Ukraine grinds on amid worsening humanitarian conditions, God longs for peace. The angels heralded Jesus’s birth with the words, “Peace on earth. Good will among all people.” The risen Lord greeted his grieving disciples with the word, “Peace.” The biblical understanding of peace, shalom, means wholeness in body, mind, and spirit. We are messengers of peace when reconciliation puts an end to our family feud, when we bridge divides in community conflicts, and when we walk the tough path of bi-partisan work. We share the message of peace by standing against hate, working to stem the tide of gun violence, and seeking equal justice for all.

The third message that God might have us bear this holiday season is that we are not alone. The heavenly kingdom comes in the midst of this troubled world. Jesus proclaimed that the Kingdom is all around us. God is here. Christ is alive and still at work in the life of the world. The Rev. Tracy Daub, author of our Advent Study Holy Disruption, reminds us that Jesus works within the world’s chaos. Daub uses the story of Jesus stilling the storm on the Sea of Galilee to remind us that amid the forces of chaos that disrupt our lives, Jesus is powerfully on our side. We remind those around us of the presence of Christ when we share an Advent devotional, or invite a friend to a worship service, or we serve Christ in our vulnerable neighbors.

On this second Sunday of Advent, John the Baptist strides out of the wilderness and reminds us that the world needs messengers. The world needs faithful people who will listen for God’s voice and speak God’s word. We are loved. God longs for peace. We are not alone. How will we share the message this Advent, my friends?

Resources

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on Mark 1:1-8” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 7, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Mark Alan Powell. “Commentary on Mark 1:1-8” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 7, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Karoline Lewis. “Commentary on Mark 1:1-8” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 4, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Barry J. Beitzel. “Travel and Communication” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, ed. David Noel Friedman, vol. 6 (New York: Bantam, Doubleday, Dell, 1992).

Tracy S. Daub. Holy Disruption (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2022).


Mark 1:1-8

1The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

2As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way;
3the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:‘ Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,’”

4John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”


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No One Knows

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “No One Knows” Mark 13:24-37

Christians have been trying to determine the date of the second coming ever since the first coming.

Irenaeus, the second century Bishop of Lyon, was an influential leader of the early church.  He believed that the world was created 5,500 years before Christ, and creation would come to an end after 6,000 years. According to Irenaeus, the Son of Man would return with great power and glory in the year 500. He was wrong.

In the seventeenth century, the English mathematician, physicist, astronomer, alchemist, and theologian Sir Isaac Newton believed that the number “1260” had particular significance in the prophetic books of the Bible. Newton theorized that the world would come to an end in the year 2060; that’s 1,260 years after the creation of the Holy Roman Empire. Proponents of Newton’s theory abandoned his point of view in 1806 when the last Holy Roman Emperor, Francis II of the House of Habsburg-Lorraine, abdicated his title and released all Imperial states and officials from their oaths and obligations to the empire.

William Miller was a 19th century American Baptist minister. He proclaimed that the Lord would return on October 22, 1844. His teaching was wildly popular, launching a religious movement known as Millerism. When Miller’s world-ending prophecy failed, his followers called it the Great Disappointment. Hiram Edson, who would go on to establish the Seventh Day Adventist Church, said, “Our fondest hopes and expectations were blasted, and such a spirit of weeping came over us as I never experienced before… We wept, and wept, till the day dawn.”

Jesus warned his followers that “no one knows” when the fateful return of the Son of Man will come. Neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father knows. Bible scholars like to call today’s reading from the thirteenth chapter of Mark’s gospel the “Little Apocalypse.”  As Jesus spoke these scary words, he was surrounded by his disciples.  From the Mount of Olives, they looked across the Kidron Valley to the Holy City of Jerusalem and the splendor of the Temple.  Jesus anticipated the sack of the city and the destruction of the Holy of Holies by the Romans in just a few decades, during the Jewish Rebellion against the empire.  In a coming world that would feel like the heavens were falling and the very fabric of creation was coming apart at the seams, Jesus knew that his followers would need purpose and a long view of God’s work in the world if they were going to endure.

To guide his disciples through the dark days to come, Jesus told a parable. He described a wealthy landowner preparing to depart on a long journey. Before leaving, he entrusted the care of his property to his slaves, knowing that each would be busy with his work until the watchful doorkeeper heralded the master’s return. In the first century world of the Mediterranean, slaves were essential in managing estates.  Cleaning house, tending animals, working fields, preparing meals, nurturing children, keeping accounts, and producing wine and olive oil, all depended upon the work of slaves.  Slaves were considered a part of the landowner’s family. In fact, the Latin word for the extended household of landowners and slaves together was familias—family. The intimacy and affection of the familias is preserved to this day in the ruins of Pompeii, which was destroyed by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in the year seventy-nine.  There we can read the words of a prayer inscribed on the walls of a household shrine, asking God for the safe return of a beloved master from a journey.

When we consider that social and historical context of slaves, masters, and the familias, we see that in today’s reading, Jesus was characterizing himself as the landowner. His arrest and execution were imminent. Before the week was out, Jesus would be betrayed, convicted, tortured, and executed. Although Jesus would rise and promise to come again in glory, for the disciples it would feel as if Jesus had gone on a very long journey, with no end in sight. In the coming years of watching and waiting, Jesus hoped that his friends would continue to faithfully and conscientiously serve him.  Just as a familias anticipated a master’s impending return with loyalty and service, the disciples would need to keep the faith and keep up the good work.  He trusted his friends to preach the gospel, heal the sick, tend to the vulnerable, and pray always for his speedy return, saying, “Maranatha!”  Come soon, Lord!

Many of us struggle with today’s reading because it is apocalyptic in tone – there is a sense of the immediacy of the Day of Judgment and a nearness of the return of Jesus in glory. Let’s face it. Almost 2,000 years is a long wait. We’re not feeling especially vigilant this Advent. For most of us, we are pretty comfortable with the way things are here and now. We have three square meals a day. We have enough, maybe more than enough. We live in safety in a beautiful part of the world. It’s not a problem for us that the second coming seems to be slow in arriving.

That attitude shifts, though, when we stir some chaos and pain into the recipe of our lives. Just ask the Christians in Gaza and the West Bank. They are praying, “Come, Lord Jesus.” Just ask the neighbor whose spouse has died a few weeks before Christmas—they would like to tear open the heavens so that God might come down. Just ask the friend who is reeling with that unexpected, bleak diagnosis, she wouldn’t mind seeing the Son of Man coming in glory. While we wait for the Second Coming, there are plenty of little apocalypses. There is an abundance of those frightening and unwanted world-changing, life-threatening, perspective-altering events. Those little apocalypses leave us longing for the Lord to be here now.

The Rev. Tracy Daub, who wrote our book study for Advent Holy Disruption, reminds us that the world-changing work of the End Times has already begun. We saw it in Jesus, who showed us what it looks like to live with compassion, forgiveness, inclusion, and love. Jesus called for an essential reordering of our world, an in-breaking of God’s Kingdom, that is yet to be fully realized. That’s where we find ourselves, between the two Advents, the first and second coming. Our work as members of Jesus’ familias is to serve the Kingdom that is “already but not yet.”

What is the work that the Master would have us do in this waiting time? It looks a lot like what Jesus and his faithful servants did. It’s feeding the hungry and welcoming the outsider. It’s forgiving those who have wronged us and praying for those who feel short on hope. It’s sharing the good news with the everyday words and actions of our lives. It’s working for a world where Israelis and Palestinians break bread together. It’s inviting to supper that mournful neighbor who feels lost in grief. It’s holding the hand and walking alongside the friend who feels lousy. We live with bold hope and compassionate love. And if we are very faithful servants of the Master, this world may even sense the coming of the Son of Man as we work with hope and love amid the little apocalypses of our world.

Frank J. Tipler, who teaches math and physics at Tulane University, published a book in 2007 called The Physics of Christianity. In the first chapter, Tipler maintains that the Second Coming of Christ will occur within 50 years—by 2057. I suspect that Tipler, like Irenaeus, Sir Isaac Newton, and William Miller, will be proven wrong by the passage of time. After all, Jesus told us, we “do not know when the time will come.”

We do know that while we wait there is work to be done. Let’s get busy, my friends. Amen.

Resources

Buggs, Courtney.  “Commentary on Mark 13:24-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 29, 2020.  Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Daub, Tracy S. Holy Disruption: Discovering Advent in the Gospel of Mark, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002).

Siker, Judy Yates. “Exegetical Perspective on Mark 13:24-27” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol. 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008.

Sheldon, Natasha. “Roman Domestic Slavery” accessed online at Ancient History and Archaeology.com.


Mark 13:24-37

24“But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,and the moon will not give its light,
25and the stars will be falling from heaven,and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

26Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. 27Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

28“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 29So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 30Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 31Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

32“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. 34It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. 35Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, 36or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. 37And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”


Portrait of Sir Isaac Newton by Godfrey Kneller, 1702. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Late Night Questions

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Late Night Questions” John 3:1-17

We all have late-night questions.  They keep us from falling asleep and leave us tossing and turning for hours. They wake us from a sound sleep, with hearts drumming and thoughts racing. Late-night questions lead to bleary-eyed mornings when we feel sleep-deprived and irritable.

Our late-night questions may be about work. How do we handle our boss? How do we manage our workers? Is what we are doing meaningful, worthwhile, the best use of our abilities?

Our late-night questions may be about our loved ones. How do we heal the breach with our spouse or sibling or child? What can we do about that diagnosis? How do we respond to a loved one’s crisis? 

Our late-night questions may be about the world community. What about homelessness and hunger? Climate change? World peace? What happens if that Republican or Democrat or Libertarian or Progressive gets elected?

Our late-night questions can be existential. Does God love us? What happens when we die? How do we find forgiveness?

Does any of this sound familiar?

We aren’t the only ones with late-night questions. Our gospel reading relates the story of Nicodemus, who came to Jesus at night filled with big questions. Nicodemus was a Pharisee. He practiced an ultra-observant form of Judaism, which demanded of him the same requirements for holiness that were applied to priests during their active service in the Temple.  For a Pharisee like Nicodemus, careful observance of all 613 commandments of the Torah rendered him holy, as God is holy.  In fact, Nicodemus was an expert in the Torah, both a rabbi and an active elder serving on the Sanhedrin, which was a lot like Israel’s supreme court.  The seventy-one elders of the Sanhedrin came from families of priests, legal scholars, and the most politically powerful families in the land.  They met every day, except on the sabbath and the holy days, gathering in the Hall of Hewn Stones, a courtroom built into the outer wall of the Temple.  There they listened to cases referred to them from lower courts, determining righteous judgments based upon their understanding of the Torah. Nicodemus was respected, scholarly, influential, powerful, and wealthy.

But Nicodemus wasn’t feeling so comfortable in his role as elder, judge, and Torah-expert. He was troubled by Jesus.  This Jesus was neither priest nor scribe nor member of an elite family, but Jesus had worked miracles and taught with an authority that could only come from God. Jesus had blessed a poor family and saved their wedding feast from shame by changing the water into the finest wine.  Jesus had denounced the profiteering and exploitation of the poor that was going on in the Temple, turning over the tables of the money changers and driving out the animals and their vendors.  Jesus had been teaching and healing in the Temple, bringing life-changing understanding and wholeness to people. Nicodemus was no fool.  His gut told him that this Jesus was the real deal, sent by God to bless the people. But if Jesus had it right, then was it possible that he (Nicodemus) had it wrong? What if honoring God wasn’t about rote obedience to 613 commands?  What if God wasn’t an angry judge waiting to condemn Israel for the slightest infraction? What if God wanted something different from Israel? Nicodemus needed answers.

John’s gospel allows us to listen in on a snippet of what must have been a free-wheeling, intense, late-night conversation between Nicodemus and Jesus. Nicodemus had his rabbi’s hat on. He was parrying Jesus’s assertions with questions, in fine rabbinic form. “Can anyone truly be born anew, Jesus?  Are we talking about the physical or the spiritual realm? Give me the details, Jesus, how can this be?” It was a late-night disputation that ended with the best-known of Jesus’s words, “For God loved the world in this way: God gave God’s One and Only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him” (Holman translation).

Can you imagine it? Jesus and Nicodemus, sit with heads close in intense conversation in the warm glow of the oil lamp. The supreme court justice learns with a shock of deep knowing that God isn’t about judgment and condemnation.  God is all about love, mercy, life.  Jesus tells the Pharisee, “God wants to save you, not condemn you, Nicodemus. You are loved.”

As Jesus challenged Nicodemus to change, to be spiritually reborn into the Kingdom of God—the Kingdom of Love, Nicodemus struggled to imagine what that might mean. It would mean that God didn’t want his blind obedience; rather, God was looking for a relationship with him.  It meant the Torah should be read through the lens of love—love for God and love for neighbor. It would require him to love the petitioners who came through his high court, both vulnerable plaintiffs and ruthless scoundrels. If Nicodemus started to preach and teach like that, it could make him seventy powerful enemies on the Sanhedrin. It could threaten his standing, compromise his power, and even have a negative impact on his bottom line—his pocketbook.  We don’t get to hear Nicodemus’s response to Jesus. Nicodemus seems to slip back into the darkness, perhaps filled with more questions than when he knocked on Jesus’s door in search of easy answers.

We are a lot more like Nicodemus than we care to admit. We want easy answers to our late-night questions.  We want answers that will not challenge our assumptions or demand a change in our thinking or conduct. We want answers that won’t cost us anything—not a big commitment of our time, not a dent in our bottom line, not a hit to our reputation, not a rethinking of our self-understanding, not a revision of our world view.  We want Jesus to pitch us easy answers that make us feel good and assure us of a healthy seven to eight hours of sleep every night.  But what if the answer isn’t easy? What if Jesus’s answer will change us in ways that feel scary, new, and a little out-of-control. What if what we are always and ultimately called to do is love more, to love like God does—like Jesus does—wholeheartedly, without strings attached, for the good of this flawed and fallen world?

If the answer to our late-night questions is a spiritual rebirth to the Way of Love, then we will be changed and so will the way that we relate to our families. We’ll mend the breach of our broken relationships with the resolve to love, a love that listens and stays in relationship even when we want to walk away, a love that forgives and seeks to be forgiven. We’ll choose to face those difficult diagnoses with love that supports, encourages, and accompanies others in times of fear and uncertainty. We’ll stop trying to fix other people’s crises and simply commit to loving them through the mess.

If the answer to our late-night questions is a spiritual rebirth to the Way of Love, then we will be changed, and so will the ways that we relate to our workplace. We could resolve to love our boss, our colleagues, our workers, not with the mushy, entangled love that we feel for our families, but the sort of love that calls forth the best in one another.  It’s a love that trusts in the power of shared vision and teamwork, a love that believes that when we work well together, what we achieve is always better than what we do on our own. We could ask loving questions of our employers, like, “How can what we do better serve the common good?”

If the answer to our late-night questions is a spiritual rebirth to the Way of Love, then we will be changed, and so will the ways that we relate to the world around us. We’ll love our vulnerable neighbors with vital ministries like the Food Pantry, Samaritan House, and One Great Hour of Sharing.  We’ll love God’s good creation in ways that leave no trace and protect precious resources and creatures. We’ll advocate for peace, everywhere.  All that love might even send us to the ballot box, where we’ll cast our votes for those whom we perceive can best translate love into political action. Wouldn’t that shake things up?

In the end, because the answer to our late-night questions is a spiritual rebirth to the Way of Love, we will be changed, and so will the way that we relate to God. We will trust that God is love.  We’ll build our relationship with God on that rock.  We will know that we are loved in life and in death, even when we wrestle in the late, late hours with the big, big questions.

Our last glimpse of Nicodemus in John’s gospel is on Golgotha, the place of the crucifixion. There, Nicodemus with Joseph of Arimathea demanded the body of Jesus from his Roman executioners. Then, those powerful and influential elders of the Sanhedrin did women’s work. They anointed Jesus’s body with a king’s ransom in costly oils and aloes, wrapped him in linen, and laid him in the tomb. It was a bold and risky task.  It was quiet and humble evidence of that spiritual rebirth to the Way of Love.

Resources:

Robert Hoch. “Commentary on John 3:1-17” in Preaching This Week, March 16, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Osvaldo Vena. “Commentary on John 3:1-17” in Preaching This Week, March 12, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Ronald J. Allen. “Commentary on John 3:1-17” in Preaching This Week, March 5, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Judith Jones. “Commentary on John 3:1-17” in Preaching This Week, May 27, 2018. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.


John 3:1-17

1 Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. 2 He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with that person.” 3 Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” 4 Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” 5 Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. 6 What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7 Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ 8 The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” 9 Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” 10 Jesus answered him, “Are you the teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?

11 “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen, yet you do not receive our testimony. 12 If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? 13 No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14 And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

17 “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.


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