Sabbath Day Thoughts

Torn Open

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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.”

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Beloved Christmas Hymns and Their Stories

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Beloved Christmas Hymns and Their Stories” Luke 2:22-40

In our scripture lesson this morning, the infant Jesus encounters two people who waited a very long time to greet the Messiah: Simeon and Anna. While Luke records their words, tradition tells us that the two sang their praises for the newborn king. How fitting, then, it is to celebrate this first Sunday of Christmastide with a celebration of some of our most loved Christmas hymns and their stories.

“Good Christian Friends, Rejoice” is one of our oldest Christmas hymns.  This medieval carol dates to the fourteenth century. The words are believed to have been written by Peter of Dresden, who served as the Rector of the Christian School in Dresden.  He may have written it for his students.  Peter was fired from his post and forced to flee to Prague in 1412 because of his religious convictions. He was a follower of the early church Reformer Johann (Jan) Huss, whose work anticipated the 16th century work of church leaders like Luther and Calvin. Huss, however, was burned at the stake for translating the Bible from Latin into the language of the people.  Peter of Dresden died in exile around 1440.  The first printed record of the hymn is found in the University of Leipzig library and dates to 1405. 

The sprightly music, IN DULCI JUBILO, is a German folk tune from the fourteenth century. It has long served as the setting for Peter’s words.

The words of “In the Bleak Midwinter” are a poem, written by Christina Rossetti. Christina (1830-1894) was born in London to an Italian exile family. Her father was a political refugee, classics scholar and poet, who taught at King’s College. She received her education at home with private tutors and her mother, who was also a classics scholar. Her sister and two brothers, like Christina, were poets and writers. Known as one of the great beauties of her day, Rosetti was a model for several artists.  Although admired and beloved by many, Rosetti’s first and lasting love was the Lord.  She rejected three proposals of marriage on religious grounds. She was an abolitionist, early advocate for animal rights, and volunteered for a number of years at the St. Mary Magdalene house of charity, a refuge for former prostitutes. Christina exerted influence and garnered praise from such literary notables as Gerard Manley Hopkins, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and Virgina Woolf.

The hymn tune we sing today, CRANHAM, was composed for Rosetti’s poem by Gustav Theodore Holst in 1906. Like Christina, Holst was the child of political refugees who found sanctuary in Britain. Holst is best known for his orchestral suite “The Planets.”

The words of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” were written by one of the most popular preachers of the 19th century Phillips Brooks. On Christmas Eve of 1865, Brooks traveled from Jerusalem to Bethlehem by horseback to attend worship at the Church of the Nativity, built at the site of Jesus’s birth.  Brooks recalled that inspiring evening, saying, “I remember standing in the old church in Bethlehem close to the spot where Jesus was born when the whole church was ringing hour after hour with splendid hymns of praise to God, how again and again it seemed as if I could hear voices I knew well, telling each other of the wonderful night of the Savior’s birth.” Three years later, as Brooks served a church in Philadelphia, he recalled his magical night and wrote these words.

The music was composed for these lyrics by the church organist, Lewis Redner. Brooks requested a new composition to match his lyrics, but Redner struggled to come up with a tune. On the night before the Christmas program, inspiration struck. Redner awoke with this music ringing in his ears.

The words to “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing” were written by that most prolific of 18th century British hymnwriters Charles Wesley. Tradition tells us that Wesley wrote constantly, even while riding on horseback. When inspiration struck, Wesley would stop his horse, run to the nearest house, and ask for pen and ink. He was said to have averaged ten poetic lines a day for fifty years. He wrote 8,989 hymns, ten times the number composed by the only other candidate (Isaac Watts) who could conceivably claim to be the world’s greatest hymn writer.

Wesley was notoriously intolerant of anyone changing his words. As originally written by Wesley in 1739, this hymn began, “Hark, how all the welkin rings.” Welkin?! “Welkin” is an Old English word for the firmament or vault of heaven. It was as unfamiliar to singers in the 18th century as it is to us today. Fourteen years later in 1753, Wesley’s friend George Whitefield overcame Wesley’s objections and changed the words to make them more accessible. People have been singing “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” ever since.

Our next Christmas hymn, “The First Nowell,” originally had eleven verses!  Perhaps we are thankful that only six are preserved in our hymnal. This traditional English carol was first recorded in Cornwall and published in 1823. The carol is believed to be much older, with roots dating to the Middle Ages. 

“Nowell” is derived from the Old French word Nouel, which in turn comes from the Latin word natalis, which means birth.  Some say that there are also overtones of nouvelle (new) in Nowell, giving it a secondary meaning of declaring something newsworthy – like the Medieval version of “Extra!  Extra!  Read all about it!”

Regardless of its true origins, people have been saying and singing “Nowell” for a very long time.  In fact, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, the earliest recorded use of Nowell as a Christmas greeting dates to the year 1255 when Chaucer used it in his “Franklin’s Tale,” writing, “and Nowel crieth every lusty man.”

“Go, Tell It on the Mountain” comes to us from the tradition of African American spirituals. The words allude to Isaiah 52:7, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’”

The spiritual was first published by African American scholar and musicologist John Wesley Work.  The son of a church choir director, Work grew up in Nashville and taught Latin and music at the historic black college Fisk University. With his wife and his brother, Frederick Jerome Work, he began collecting slave songs and spirituals across the south in the late 19th century, publishing them in two volumes. The latter book, New Jubilee Songs and Folk Songs of the American Negro (1907), included the first publication of “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”

Work directed the “Jubilee Singers,” a select choir of the university which toured extensively, including travel to Europe where they were well received and raised significant funds for their school. Work was forced to resign from his post at Fisk in 1923. The traditional songs that he so loved were considered backwards and unpopular by academics on the Fisk faculty, who sought to leave behind the painful history of slavery. Undaunted by his departure from Fisk, Work then served as president of Roger Williams University in Nashville until his death in 1925.

Luke 2:22-40

22When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23(as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), 24and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”

25Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. 26It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. 27Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, 28Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, 29“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; 30for my eyes have seen your salvation, 31which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 32a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” 33And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. 34Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed 35so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” 36There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, 37then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. 38At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. 39When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. 40The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.

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Christ the Savior Is Born!

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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

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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

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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.

The Least of These

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Least of These” Matthew 25:31-46

Bob stopped typing. There it was again, an insistent knocking, down at the front door. It was Saturday morning. Marge and Paul had driven south for a weekend of Christmas shopping with her sister in Albany. Bob was working on his sermon, but he had deleted more than he had written. He pushed back his desk chair and ventured downstairs.

There on the doorstep was the short, round form of Junior Miller. Bob remembered the Christmas Eve that Junior had been born, more than twenty years ago, now. Bob had been called to the hospital to visit the newest member of his flock. Junior’s almond-shaped eyes and rosebud mouth confirmed what his parents had learned: Down Syndrome. But the boy had been a delight. Sure, he struggled with school. Sure, he took some bullying. But his kind nature was unstoppable. This morning, Junior looked extra round. A down jacket stretched across his belly, snow boots reached almost to his knees, a bright wool handknit hat and matching scarf and mittens were keeping out the cold.

“Why Junior! What brings you to my door so bright and early?”

Junior pulled down the scarf to free his mouth and leaned in, “Pastor Bob, I had a dream.”

Bob’s eyebrows shot up, like they do when he is intrigued. “A dream. You don’t say. You want to come in and tell me about it?”

Junior shook his head emphatically, no! “Pastor Bob! It was God, he said he was going to see me today. I don’t have time to visit with you.”

Bob nodded appreciatively. “Hmm. Well, where do you think you’ll find God?”

Junior pushed back his knit cap and looked up and down the street. “God didn’t say. Any ideas?”

Bob looked left and right. It had snowed a lot overnight. The plows had been out to clear the lane, but the trees were bowed beneath the wintry weight. Bob squinted against the snowy glare, “Well, Junior. I’m not sure where you’ll find Jesus, but I’m certain he’s out there. Be sure to send him my way. I could use some help with my sermon.”

Junior nodded, turned around, and marched off in search of Jesus.

Junior had only gone a few blocks when he saw old Mrs. Trombley. Every week she came to the dairy where Junior worked and bought the same thing:  a dozen eggs, a half-gallon of milk, and one of Mrs. Underhill’s freshly-baked bear claw pastries. This morning, Mrs. Trombly was shoveling snow. A wall of the white stuff had drifted against the back of her car. You could barely make out the bumper.

“Hi, Mrs. Trombly! It’s me, Junior.”

Mrs. Trombley leaned on her shovel to catch her breath. Her cheeks were bright red and she looked kind of sweaty. Junior hadn’t noticed before, but Mrs. Trombley seemed to be shrinking. Her back curved inside her old winter coat. She had to look up to see his face. “Why Junior, good morning! How do you like all this snow?”

Junior took her question seriously. “Pretty nice, I guess.”

Mrs. Trombley looked at the big drift behind her car. “Lots of work if you ask me. Burt always does this, but he had surgery last week. That means I’m on deck.”

Junior nodded. He really needed to get going if he was going to see Jesus, but he stopped. “Here, Mrs. Trombley. Give me that.” Junior took the snow shovel. It took a while to dig out the car and shovel the walk while Mrs. Trombley went back inside to tend Burt. Junior left the snow shovel next to the front door and hurried off to continue his search.

Outside the church, Junior saw Christine Lebowski. She had been the prettiest girl in his high school class. A cheerleader, too. She had married the captain of the football team, but Junior wasn’t invited to the wedding. In fact, Christine and her friends had sometimes made fun of Junior. They called him the ‘tard and poked fun at his round belly which, as a child, bore a striking resemblance to Winnie the Pooh’s.

Christine was pushing a stroller, the lightweight, folding kind that you use in the summer months. There was a chubby baby inside that was every bit as blonde and blue-eyed as Christine. The baby looked happy, but Christine did not. In fact, she looked like she had been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen. She had a soggy Kleenex clenched in one hand. Junior had never seen Christine cry.

Junior followed Christine into the church. There she turned right, into the food pantry. Junior really needed to look for Jesus, but the fact that Christine Lebowski was crying tugged at his tender heart. He watched out of the corner of his eye while Christine took the baby out of the stroller and strapped it across her chest into one of those Snugli carriers while the food pantry volunteers loaded up her stroller with bags of food. As Christine shoved the overloaded stroller over the threshold and back outside, Junior heard an alarming, “Crack!” The stroller collapsed, sending groceries everywhere. Christine was really crying now.

Junior stepped up. “Hey, Christine.”

The sad woman looked around, noticing for the first time that Junior was there. “Uh, Junior. Sorry, I’ve made a big mess.”

Junior bent down and gathered the groceries back into their shopping bags. The bags were heavy and Christine with her baby didn’t look like any match for the load.

“I can help.” Junior said. That made Christine cry even more. He walked them home. Junior was surprisingly strong from his work at the dairy, but even he had to stop a few times to rebalance the load.

 Along the way, Christine told him that she was alone now. Her husband said he didn’t want to be tied down with a baby. She was working at the Ron Dack Market when her Mom could watch the baby, but some months that just wasn’t enough. Junior just listened. At the door to her apartment, Christine said, “Gee, Junior. You are my knight in shining armor today.” This made Junior blush.

It was already early afternoon, but if Junior hurried, he could make it for the free lunch at the Good News Café. He arrived just as Tubby Mitchell was locking up.

“Junior!” the older man said, “You are my last customer today.” Tubby loaded up a plate with mashed potatoes, ham, green beans, and a generous slab of sheet cake.  Junior ate with gusto, telling Tubby between bites all about his dream.

“Have you seen Jesus, Tubby?” Junior wanted to know.

Tubby looked out the window with a far away look in his eyes and sighed. “You know, Junior, I see him most days.”

This amazed Junior. “Jeezum Crow, Tubby! Really?”

Tubby smiled sadly, “Yup. I think I served him lunch about twenty minutes ago. If you hurry, you might catch him.” He nodded up the street, toward the center of town.

Junior pushed most of his cake into his mouth then pulled on his down coat and woolen cap. Tubby wound Junior’s scarf around his short neck while Junior jammed his hands into his mittens. “Oh boy! Thanks, Tubby!” Junior shouted over his shoulder as he dashed off up the street.

But Junior didn’t see Jesus or God almighty or even an angel. Dejected, he sat on a bench at the busy intersection in the center of town. Junior watched every car and inspected every pedestrian, hoping for a glimpse of the Lord.

The only thing of interest was Hank Tebow, who was always interesting. In the summer months, Hank wielded a spray bottle of Windex and a squeegee to make some easy money by washing the windshields of tourists while they idled at the light. In winter months, Hank wore big insulated coveralls and mostly just watched what passed for traffic in the village. Some days were bad, and he would yell at the cars until the police moved him along. Other days, like today, Hank dispensed jokes, the kind a six-year-old might tell.

“Hey, Junior! Knock, knock!”

Junior generally like this kind of joke, “Who’s there?”

“Snow.”

“Snow who?”

“Snow use. I forgot my name again!”

Junior laughed, “Good one, Hank.”

Junior resumed his search for Jesus while Hank scrounged a few cigarette butts from the sidewalk and tried unsuccessfully to share his jokes with pedestrians hurrying past. Junior noticed that Hank didn’t have any gloves or mittens. His hands were stained with nicotine and his nails were grimy, like Junior’s after a morning of work with the animals at the dairy. Hank’s bald head was hatless and his wispy beard didn’t seem to offer much protection for his face. Already the shadows were getting long. Junior would go to his parents for dinner, but Hank would probably be out there for hours. Junior stood up. He unwound the scarf, pulled the hat from his head, and yanked off his mittens. He tugged his coat sleeves down to cover his bare hands.

“Hey, Hank!” He yelled, “Knock, knock!”

Delighted that someone would join him in a little fun, Hank hurried over, “Who’s there?”

“Tank.”

“Tank who?”

“You’re welcome!” Junior said as he pushed his warm knitwear into Hank’s hands. They did some more laughing and Junior left. It was starting to get dark as Junior walked to his parents’ house. He had seen plenty of people that day, but where was Jesus?

The next morning, Junior arrived early at church. He knocked on Pastor Bob’s study door, then let himself in. He took a dejected seat on the couch. Bob stopped what he was doing.

“So, how did the Jesus hunt go, Junior?”

“Not so good.” Looking disappointed, Junior told Bob all about his day.

Bob listened and then chose his words carefully, “You know, Junior, I suspect that you saw plenty of Jesus yesterday.”

“Huh?”

“And Junior, I suspect that all those people you helped, they saw Jesus, too.”

Junior’s brow creased in concentration. “I need to think about that,” he said, rising from his seat and venturing out into the hallway.

At the door, Junior turned back, “How about you, Pastor Bob? Did Jesus help you with your sermon?”

Bob laughed, “Well, he sent his Holy Spirit to help me out. I expect we’ll do just fine.”

While Bob finished up his prayers of the people, Junior Miller found a quiet place to think.

This story was inspired by Leo Tolstoy’s classic work of short fiction, “Where Love Is, There God Is Also.”

Matthew 25:31-46

31“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. 32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, 33and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. 34Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ 37Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ 40And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ 41Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; 42for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ 44Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ 45Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ 46And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

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Blessed and Entrusted

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Blessed and Entrusted” Matthew 25:14-30

You’ll find Rupert tending the huge outdoor grill for his church’s annual chicken barbeque. His preparations start weeks in advance. He gathers ingredients for his secret sauce. He procures the mesquite chips that get soaked and sprinkled on the coals to impart that special smoky flavor. He makes the big run to Sam’s Club for all that chicken. Folks are so glad that Rupert shares his talent that, on the day of the barbeque, they line up around the block. The chicken always sells out. It’s his church’s biggest mission fund raiser of the year.

Sharon is the Field Marshall of her church’s annual Christmas Bazaar. Her talents for organization and communication are impressive. She contacts all the crafters months in advance to ensure there will be a beautiful selection of handmade goods. She sees to it that the men’s group cuts greens and makes beautiful evergreen wreaths to sell. She gets the bakers baking a bounty of Christmas cookies, brewing coffee, and making cocoa for the snack table. On the day of the Bazaar, Sharon has volunteers lined up from early to late. Every year, people say it can’t get any better, but somehow with Sharon’s leadership, it does.

Sam is his church’s most faithful servant. Now that he is retired, he rises early every Tuesday, eats his breakfast, and heads down to the church office to put his handyman talents to work. There, the secretary hands him a list of things that need his attention: lightbulb in the fellowship hall needs changing, toilet in the men’s bathroom needs plunging, grass could use mowing. Sam takes his list and gets busy. You can hear him whistling around the church as he tends to his “honey-dos.” At lunchtime, he walks home with a pleased smile, eats a big bowl of soup, and takes a nap.

Every church has them—good and faithful servants who get busy, sharing their talents to serve the Lord and bless the rest of us.

Our gospel lesson today has long been called the Parable of the Talents. In Jesus’s story, three servants were “entrusted” with talents. In the first century, a talent was a great weight of silver, between seventy-five and ninety pounds. A single talent was equivalent to twenty year’s wages for a day laborer. The first slave received 100 years’ wages in one lump sum, the second slave 40 years’ wages.  Even the last and least able slave received great wealth, 20 years’ pay dropped in his lap. This tremendous windfall was entrusted without instructions or supervision.

The Greek word translated here as entrusted, paradidomai, has a couple of meanings.  Paradidomai means to hand something over, to make a gift of something valuable.  But paradidomai is also used to describe how a rabbi hands down a teaching tradition, a sort of passing the torch of spiritual authority to disciples. Back when this story was first told, Jesus was entrusting his ministry to his disciples.

In the long history of interpretation of this parable, the word talent has taken on new meaning. John Chrysostum, the fourth century Bishop of Constantinople was the first to suggest that the talents of the parable are gifts and abilities. Each of us is blessed with unique and precious capabilities that bring us joy and bless others, like the real-life examples that I gave at the start of my message—Rupert the grill master, Sharon the majordomo, and Sam the handyman. Chrysostum’s interpretation of this parable has been so influential over the centuries that the common understanding of “talent’ no longer means a great weight of silver. It means our God-given and self-developed potential.

In Jesus’s story, two servants found purpose in their gift. They traded and took risks to increase what they had been given. Perhaps one bought a small flock and shrewdly shepherded, bred, and traded his sheep and goats, until he was rich with animals, wool, and meat. Perhaps the other purchased a small vineyard. He grew grapes, dried raisins, and made the finest wine that was in the greatest of demand. The slaves were blessed by the undertaking, filled with satisfaction and delight in their accomplishment. They were eager to share their incredible success when the Master returned.

I think we can all share stories of the blessing we experience when our God-given gifts are developed to their fullest potential and used in ways that bring goodness to the lives of others. I know that Rupert the grill master felt that the annual chicken barbeque was the highlight of his summer. Sharon the Field Marshall of the Christmas Bazaar rejoiced mightily every time the sale set a new record in raising funds for mission. Sam the Handyman sensed that he had found real satisfaction in retirement by keeping things running smoothly at church so that folks could show up on Sunday morning and be blessed.

For the third servant of the parable, it was a different story. He responded to the Master’s gift with fear, as if it were a big unwanted burden – more curse than blessing. We can imagine Jesus telling the long version of the parable. The slave waited for the cover of darkness and then lugged that great weight of silver to an unlikely place, quietly dug a pit, and buried it deep. After that, he lived every day of the long waiting time in worry and anxiety, always looking over his shoulder. Would someone steal the treasure? Was today the day when the Master would return? When the Master finally appeared, the third slave was filled with resentment. First, he insulted his Master, then he handed off the talent like it was a hot potato. Good riddance! There was no blessing for the third slave in the talent, no blessing in the waiting, and no blessing in the Master. His rejection of opportunity, his rejection of blessing, left him banished to the outer darkness.

It’s important to remember that Jesus was using hyperbole – a rhetoric of exaggeration —to make a point about the necessity for disciples to continue the ministry that he was entrusting to them. The dramatic description of the third slave wailing and languishing in the outer darkness reminded Jesus’s friends that although there would be fear and danger in the wake of his crucifixion, there could be blessing. If only they simply kept working, kept sharing, kept the faith, they would find joy for themselves and others.

If we set aside the scary hyperbole for a moment, we can see that this story is about trust, blessing, potential, and joy. Church folk tend to be a talented lot. Some have the prodigious gift of music. Others have the knack for building and fixing things. Some are wonderful cooks. Some are wonderfully caring or gifted in the offering of prayer. Some are natural leaders, while others are great followers and worker bees. We may not have the grilling gifts of Rupert or the organizational prowess of Sharon or the fix-it ingenuity of Sam, but we are each uniquely entrusted with abilities and qualities that make us the people we are. So much potential! Those talents are God-given and made for sharing. God doesn’t give us a checklist of missions to be accomplished, but the Lord trusts that we will be busy in his purpose.

Here’s the delightful truth of the parable. When we sing in the choir or share special music, it’s a blessing! When we put on our apron and fire up the oven for the bake sale, it’s a blessing. When we share our teaching gifts with the kids, it’s a blessing! When we share our caring gifts as a deacon, our devotional gifts on the prayer chain, or our knack for compassion at the Food Pantry, what is it? A blessing! When talented people get busy, the blessings abound. It’s a blessing for us and it’s a blessing to others. Praise the Lord for those talented Presbyterians!

The exclamation point of this parable is the Master’s joy. Jesus’s story suggests that when faithful disciples use their talents to get busy in God’s purpose, God finds delight. We put a smile on the face of the Great Almighty. Heaven breaks forth with the sound of rejoicing. Even better, when we are blessed by using our gifts—and others are blessed by us—then we are welcomed with praise into the joy of the Master. “Well done, good and faithful servants!” You might even say, that when talents are plied and blessing abounds, our world begins to look and feel like God’s Kingdom where the joy will never end. Don’t we want to be a part of that joy?

Every church has them—good and faithful servants who get busy, sharing their talents to serve the Lord and bless the rest of us. The Ruperts. The Sharons. The Sams. People like us! May we use our talents wisely. And may the Master’s joy abound!

Resources:

Carla Works. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 13, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

David Schnasa Jacobsen. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 19, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Dirk G. Lange. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 16, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Greg Carey. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 16, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Matthew 25:14-30

14“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; 15to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. 17In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. 18But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. 20Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ 21His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 22And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ 23His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 24Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; 25so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ 26But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? 27Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return, I would have received what was my own with interest. 28So take the talent from him and give it to the one with the ten talents. 29For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 30As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

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Lamps Lit

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lamps Lit” Matthew 25:1-13

We don’t like to wait. It can make us feel grouchy, frustrated, annoyed, and bored. Americans spend an average of thirty-two minutes waiting at the doctor’s office, twenty-eight minutes waiting at airport security, and twenty-one minutes waiting for our significant other to get ready to go out. All that waiting adds up. As a nation, Americans spend thirty-seven billion hours waiting in line each year. The bad news is that New York state has the longest waiting times in the country. A survey of twenty-five New York communities found that our average wait time in stores is six minutes and fifty-one seconds. That sounds about right. The worse news is that our patience is growing shorter as digital technology, like smart phones and on-demand streaming services, lead us to expect instant gratification. The average person grows frustrated after waiting sixteen seconds for a webpage to load or twenty-five seconds for a traffic signal to change. Does any of this sound familiar?

Our gospel reading today reveals that the struggle to wait isn’t limited to twenty-first century New York. Jesus told this parable of the Ten Bridesmaids to his disciples as they gathered one evening on the Mt. of Olives, overlooking Jerusalem.  It was the final week of Jesus’ earthly life.  Powerful enemies in Jerusalem were conspiring to bring about his arrest and execution.  Jesus knew what awaited him at the end of the week, even if his friends were unwilling to accept it.  And so, he told a story of a wedding banquet too long in coming and bridesmaids who missed out on the celebration.

In Jesus’s day, when a young girl reached marriageable age, her parents would seek an appropriate bridegroom.  First, a contract, stating terms of the dowry, would be agreed upon.  Then, at the end of a year-long engagement, the bridegroom would collect his bride, paying her parents the bride price and bringing his new wife home to the house of his father.  On the blessed night of the wedding, bridesmaids waited at the father’s house.  With lamps lit, they would go forth singing and rejoicing, leading the couple to the marriage tent, where their wedding vows would be consecrated.  After the wedding, a festive weeklong party began.

In Jesus’ story, the wedding party didn’t go according to plan. The groom was delayed. As the long hours dragged on after dark and the bridesmaids waited, they fell asleep and their lamps burned low.  When the shout at last went up, “The bridegroom is near!”, the maids rose to tend their flames, but only half the girls had anticipated the wait and brought extra oil.  While five maids went out with glowing lamps to rejoice with the wedding party, the others ran off to bang on the door of the local oil merchant.  When they returned to the father’s house, it was too late. The door was closed and there would be no late entries.

This is not my favorite parable. For one thing, it takes a lot of explaining. For another, I’d like to soften its sharp edges.  Let there be a super-abundance of oil to share.  Let the bridegroom throw open the doors and welcome the latecomers to the party. But Jesus knew that his story required sharp and uncomfortable edges to get our attention. We can bet that every disciple who listened to Jesus on the Mt. of Olives sat up straight and opened their ears.

In Jesus’ day, the wedding feast was a common metaphor for the beautiful feast of the Kingdom of God that would come at the end times.  Jesus’s friends knew Jesus was the bridegroom, the Messiah, sent to usher in a new age of righteousness and holy living.  But there would be no wedding feast that week.  Instead of a wedding procession of joyful bridesmaids with lamps aglow, there would be a funeral procession.  Jesus, beaten, bloody, and broken, would be paraded through the streets to his brutal execution.

Jesus hoped that his friends would live with a sense of urgent patience, even after he would be taken from them. God’s Kingdom would come, even after long delay. Jesus hoped his friends would live like those five wise bridesmaids, well-equipped and ready to serve, even if the shout went up at midnight. The disciples, who listened to Jesus and looked out across the Kidron Valley to the holy city, glowing with the light of thousands of household lamps, would have heard Jesus’ story as a bold exhortation to wait with patience and vigilance through the long years to come.

One of the great challenges of preaching this parable is that people like us don’t have a sense of expectant urgency when it comes to Judgment Day. We leave that to the evangelicals, and even they don’t do it very well. We don’t wake up each morning, wondering if this is it, if the Lord will come in glory. We struggle to have a teaching like this feel relevant and useful for faithful living. We don’t like to wait six minutes and fifty-one seconds at the grocery. We can’t be bothered to waste our time looking at the apocalyptic clock, waiting for it to strike midnight.

But what if this parable isn’t just about Judgment Day? After all, in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus begins his ministry with the warning that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near. Professor Dirk Lange, who serves as assistant general secretary at the Lutheran World Federation, teaches that Jesus’s return is a “now” event. Let me explain. The appearance of the risen Lord on the Emmaus Road was a true experience of Christ’s return. Our monthly celebration of the Lord’s Supper is an ongoing wedding banquet with Jesus at the table. The vulnerable people whom we encounter—Jesus called them the least of these, his little brothers and sisters—they are an ongoing revelation of the Jesus who walks among us, inviting our compassion and help. Perhaps the question for our faithful waiting isn’t, “Is this the Day of Judgement?” Our question is better phrased, “How will I see Jesus today? Will I be ready to serve him? Will my lamp be lit?”

I’m going to suggest three ways that we can keep our lamps lit in this waiting time. Are you ready?

We begin by spending daily time with Jesus. We place him at the center of our lives with a faithful pattern of prayer and devotion. We deepen our understanding through reading scripture and spiritual writing. We praise him through worship and song. Those daily attentions in this waiting time assure us that the Lord is always with us, if only we will attend.

We can also take the time to see the Jesus who is revealed in vulnerability in the world around us. We see him at the Food Pantry picking up his monthly box. She awaits our visit in the corridors of assisted living and nursing homes.  He’s learning about Jesus in Sunday School.  She looks out her window and watches us head to church, wondering if we will ever invite her to join us. The bridegroom is near if we will only have eyes to see him.

Jesus’s parable suggests that it is not enough for us to patiently wait. We also need to be prepared for action. The wise bridesmaids heard the cry and leapt up to trim their wicks, fill their lamps, and greet the bridegroom. Will we shine our light before others (Mt. 5:16)? Carla Works, a New Testament scholar at Wesley Theological Seminary, says that, “To live in vigilance means for disciples to do the tasks that they have been appointed in preparation for the Master’s coming.” We know what we are called to do, but will we do it? Will we feed hungry people? Will we visit those who need our love? Will we teach Sunday School? Will we invite a friend or neighbor to church? Are our lamps lit? How will we greet the bridegroom?

I suspect that even if we heed Jesus’s difficult teaching, we still won’t like waiting. We’ll still grow grouchy, frustrated, annoyed, and bored as we wait in line at the grocery store. That’s because researchers say that the human attention span is a whopping eight seconds, one second shorter than that of a goldfish. But our waiting can be transformed as we pray for others and take time to attend to the hidden Jesus who walks among us still. Perhaps this world can look a little more like the promised Kingdom of Heaven if we keep our lamps lit and shine that light before others.

Resources

“How Much Time of an Average Life Is Spent Waiting?” in Reference, Science and Technology, April 3, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.reference.com/science-technology/much-time-average-life-spent-waiting-7b315c05172d2b4d

John Anderer. “Hurry up! Modern patience thresholds lower than ever before, technology to blame” in Study Finds, Sept. 3, 2019. Accessed online at https://studyfinds.org/hurry-up-modern-patience-thresholds-lower-than-ever-before-survey-finds/

Carla Works, “Commentary on Matthew 25:1-13” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 6, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Dirk Lange, “Commentary on Matthew 25:1-13” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 9, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org. Greg Carey, “Commentary on Matthew 25:1-13” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 9, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Matthew 25:1-13

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. 2Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; 4but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. 5As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. 6But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ 7Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. 8The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ 9But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ 10And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. 11Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ 12But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ 13Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

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The Great Multitude

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Great Multitude” Rev. 7:9-17

When our neighbors at St. Bernard’s talk about saints, they point to people of exceptional piety, heroes of the faith who have been martyred, worked miracles, or had singular spiritual experiences. The process of becoming a Catholic saint is lengthy. First, a local bishop investigates the candidate’s life and writings for evidence of heroic virtue. Then the findings are sent to the Vatican. There, a panel of theologians and the cardinals evaluate the evidence. If the panel approves, the pope proclaims that the candidate is venerable, a role model of Catholic virtues. If the person is responsible for a posthumous miracle, then the saint is beatified—honored as holy by a particular group or region. In order for someone to be considered a true saint and canonized, there must be proof of at least one more posthumous miracle- the healing of a pilgrim at the grave site, a mass vision, a statue weeping. Canonized saints are the center of worship, devotion, and prayer, like praying to St. Anthony to help you recover your lost car keys.

We don’t share this understanding of saints in our tradition. Since the Reformation of the 16th century, we have insisted that God alone must be the focus of our worship, devotion, and prayer. By studying the use of the title “saint” in scripture, Martin Luther pointed out that the true meaning of “saint” had nothing to do with exceptional piety. Instead, it was all about faith. When the Apostle Paul wrote to his church in Philippi, he greeted the “saints,” all members—men, women, youth, children, both slaves and freeborn. All were holy, not because of their impressive spiritual accomplishments, but by their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 

On All Saints Sunday, we take time to remember and celebrate this beautiful, broad understanding of the great multitude of faithful people, who, having lived their lives in faith, now live eternally with God. We are especially mindful of those saints whom we have lost in the past year, like our friends Jean Fitzgerald and Henry Schwalenstocker. But we also bring to mind those sainted people who have made a quiet and faithful difference in our lives: the parents who introduced us to Jesus, the mentors who called us to fully utilize our God-given gifts, the caregivers who prayed for us when we could not pray for ourselves. These saints will never attract the notice of a panel of theologians and cardinals, but they worked gentle goodness in our lives that blesses us to this day.

In today’s reading from the Book of Revelation, John of Patmos described his apocalyptic vision of the heavenly throne room, where God and the Lamb were ceaselessly praised and glorified.  Before the throne, worshipers of every land, language, nation, race, time, and place were assembled, a great and countless multitude. All were clothed in robes of dazzling white.  All rejoiced, waving palm fronds in victory.  All joined their voices with the heavenly host to proclaim, “Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever!  Amen.”  Can we imagine it?

John says that God “sheltered” those who worshipped.  The Greek word for shelter skenosei means to stretch a protective covering over something, like a roof keeping out the weather, or a tent protecting us from a summer storm, or the wings of a mama bird shielding her chicks.  Those who worship are safe. They hunger and thirst no more.  With the Lamb as their shepherd, the vast flock is guided to the waters of life.  Every sorrow comes to an end; every tear is tenderly dried.  The great multitude has found shelter, nurture, guidance, life, and comfort with God.

I’m sure that, among the saints who worshipped before the throne, John of Patmos saw people of remarkable spiritual accomplishment like those canonized saints, but John’s vision would have largely comprised little-known saints, like the beloved ones, mentors, friends, and caregivers who have had such a powerful, positive impact upon our lives. Those who rejoiced before the throne may have been a lot like us: everyday saints, who faithfully worship God, trust in our Good Shepherd, and leave a legacy of faith for the generations to come.

This church has had many such saints. Their photos are not hanging in the gallery of pastors in the hallway. They don’t have a plaque on the pipe organ or bell tower. But they faithfully shared themselves in ways that made a difference in the life of this church and the unique history of Saranac Lake.

Among our first members were Emma and Theodore Hanmer. As newlyweds, they came to Saranac Lake in 1889 from Black Brook, where Ted had driven a stagecoach and apprenticed as a boat builder. It didn’t take long for him to move past apprentice to master boat builder with his own workshop on Lake Street, where he specialized in crafting guide boats. Ted’s boats weighed about 80 pounds, yet they could safely carry a load of a half-ton, including three people. One of Ted’s handcrafted boats sold for about $65 in 1900. Today they are priceless. Neither Ted nor Emma ever served as an elder or a deacon, but they worshipped weekly and raised eight children in the church. If you ask me, that’s a remarkable accomplishment.

Another early member of the church, whom you’ll never hear celebrated by local historians, is Edmund Horton. He became our fourth elder in 1902. Ed had a gift for growing things. In 1903, he opened Horton’s Greenhouses and Florist Shop at the present site of Nona Fina Restaurant. A vintage ad in the Adirondack Daily Enterprise has some snappy copy to promote Ed’s plants and creations. It reads, “What better gift than flowers? They’ll return a little care with gorgeous blooms. . .  give someone a living gift of flowers. Every glance at them will be a reminder of your thoughtfulness.” Early pictures of the sanctuary, beautifully decked out with poinsettias, ferns, Easter lilies, and big bouquets, reflect the talents of Ed Horton, a legacy that we celebrate every time we take a bouquet of flowers to someone who needs a little extra love.

You’ve probably never heard of longtime members Florence and Arthur Utting. They lived and worked for many years in the Spaulding Block, an impressive three-story brick building that stood at the corner of River and Main Streets, where the Verizon store is now located. Arthur ran a grocery store on the first floor and Florence had a vanity store right next door. She sold “fancy goods, crockery, and stationary.” In the church’s early days, the Board of Trustees may have been charged with the oversight of our church building, but it was often the Women’s League that did the work of care, cleaning, and improvements. When the church coffers were empty in 1902, it was Florence Utting who came up with $100 to buy new carpeting, paint the walls, and repair the seats. Thank you, Florence!

As I finish this message, I’d like to lead us in a brief reflection about how we might share our time, talents, and treasure with the church, in keeping with the legacy of those quiet saints who have made a difference. Like those faithful ones I have just described—and like the saints in John’s vision, we have found shelter in God. We have claimed the Lord as our shepherd. We trust that we, too, will one day celebrate in that far brighter light on that far better shore.

Let’s begin with thinking about our time. Perhaps, like the Hanmers, we’ll commit ourselves to weekly worship and prayer. We’ll bring our kids to Sunday School. We’ll show up for Bible Studies. We’ll frequent potlucks. We’ll come out for movie nights. We’ll shovel snow or mow the lawn. We’ll do those everyday tasks that sometimes go unnoticed. What will sharing your time look like?

How will we share our talents? Perhaps, like Ed Horton, we’ll serve as an elder. Maybe we’ll exercise our green thumbs with landscaping in the churchyard or growing vegetables in the church garden. Our love for worship and our gifts for order may lead us to serve as a Sanctus volunteer, ensuring that the church is ready for Sunday mornings. We could share gifts of caring as deacons, express our love for children as Sunday School teachers or Youth Group leaders, or bless the church with music in the choir. What will sharing your talents look like?

How will we share our treasure? Today we’ll submit pledges to support the church’s operating budget. We may also choose to follow the example of Florence Utting and provide financial resources for building projects. We could consider a memorial gift in honor of a beloved one. We may even think about a legacy, including the church in our financial planning to bless the generations to come. What will sharing our treasure look like?

On All Saints Sunday, we celebrate the great multitude that rejoices before the heavenly throne, people like Emma and Ted Hanmer, Ed Horton, and Florence and Arthur Utting. Unsung heroes, they shared their time, talents, and treasure to serve God and bless this church. This Sunday, we choose how we will also share of ourselves in gratitude for the shelter we have found in the Good Shepherd. We will most likely never be canonized, and yet there is a place for us before the throne, to rejoice amid the great multitude. May it be so. Amen.

Resources:

“Resident of Saranac Lake Is Only Remaining Builder of Adirondack Guide Boat.” Adirondack Daily Enterprise, June 24, 1935.

“Old Adirondacker of Guide Boat Fame Dies.” Adirondack Daily Enterprise, April 19, 1957.

Evelyn Outcalt and Judy Kratts. “A History of the First Presbyterian Church of Saranac Lake,” July 25, 1990.

Anna M.V. Bowden. “Commentary on Rev. 7:9-17” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 5, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Micah D. Kiel. “Commentary on Rev. 7:9-17” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 5, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Walter F. Taylor, Jr. “Commentary on Rev. 7:9-17” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 2, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Revelation 7:9-17

9After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. 10They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” 11And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” 13Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” 14I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. 16They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 17for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

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The Caring Community

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Caring Community” Psalm 136

In the spirit of our tradition of sharing testimonies on Reformation Sunday, I’m stepping away from a regular sermon to share a little of my own story – which is really our story.

When I moved to Saranac Lake from the Chicago area, almost 19 years ago, I knew that I had my work cut out for me. This church had been through a lot. Many people had left. Among those who remained, there were factions. Harsh things had been said. Hurt feelings were abundant. We had trouble with what our interim Pastor Carol Drew astutely labeled “malicious gossip.” On top of that, we were looking at a $45,000 deficit budget and had exhausted much of our available savings.

Perhaps our biggest problem would be cultivating a caring community. We didn’t trust one another. We didn’t feel safe sharing our family concerns or health troubles. At first, we didn’t even feel comfortable naming our joys and concerns on Sunday mornings because you never knew if your personal business might become the afternoon chatter at the DeChantal. Healing would take time and hard work.

We began by changing our deacons, shifting their responsibilities to better meet the biblical diaconal role of Christian caregivers. Deacons stopped planning potlucks. Instead, they began to build skills like listening, keeping confidentiality, visiting, and praying with others. Two by two, they went out to visit our homebound members and friends. They also offered caring hospitality for funeral and memorial services. They did some good cooking – delivering meals for folks going through surgeries, chemotherapy, or having a tough time. They were a wonderful comfort to our aging members of that greatest generation.

It didn’t stop with the deacons. One day, Priscilla Goss returned from a visit to her cousin in Virginia with a stuffed bear. He was a cute little fellow with a bowtie and a ribbon around his neck with a little sign that said he was a blessing bear. He had been living in her cousin’s church, just waiting to be taken home to someone who needed extra love. What a sweet idea! Soon, our pews had sprouted a batch of bears. The late Bob Brown always kept an eye open for bears and would visit me like Santa several times a year with a big bag of furry friends. Over the years, many of us have taken bears out to bring a much-needed smile to those who needed it.

Another dimension of our caring ministry emerged when we formed the Heart & Hands Circle, which brings together knitters and crocheters once a month. They pray and get busy, making prayer shawls, baby blankets, and lap robes. Going through chemotherapy? You need a warm shawl to wrap around your shoulders. Recovering from knee surgery? A lap robe! New addition to the family? Break out the baby blanket! Since its inception, the group has sent out about 140 of these wonderful handmade creations to bless us.

Of course, there are more ways that we have grown as a caring community: the prayer chain, the deacons fund, our commitments to Samaritan House and the Food Pantry. How about the cookie bomb, Parent’s Night Out, and those wonderful summer bouquets that we take out weekly? We care.  People have noticed, too. Visitors often remark that ours is a warm and welcoming community. Thank you, Jesus!

I don’t think I truly realized the depth of caring in this church until I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent some big surgeries. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for all the love and care that came my way. And I thought you might like to see and hear some of the special ways that your caring was shown. I even brought a little “show and tell.” So, I’ll name some things, and you’ll respond with the words, “Thank, God!” Are you ready?

There has been plenty of good food! Home-made dinners, baked goods, sweet treats, birthday cake, and blueberry jelly. Thank God!

There have been flowers! Fancy florist bouquets, giant mums, garden flowers, and a 3-D paper arrangement that came all the way from MN. Thank God!

I’ve gotten lots of get well wishes! Cards, letters, emails, texts, Facebook posts, and a sweet little message on the chalkboard outside our front door. Thank God!

There have been gift certificates and fun gifts! Nori’s, Grizzle T’s, more Nori’s, and Adirondack Therapeutics; a little gourd, a little pumpkin, dumb bells, and what every pastor needs: corgi socks. Thank God!

There have been contributions of the pastor medical fund! Big gifts, little gifts and everything in between, donations that have helped us with those huge expenses. Thank God!

There have been abundant prayers! In worship, in homes, on the prayer chain, on Facebook, over the phone, and even in other churches and around the tables of local boards and charities. Thank God!

Thank God and thank you! This is what a caring Christian community is all about. We’ve come a long way, baby! Thank God!

Psalm 136

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.
2 O give thanks to the God of gods,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.
3 O give thanks to the Lord of lords,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;

4 who alone does great wonders,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
5 who by understanding made the heavens,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
6 who spread out the earth on the waters,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
7 who made the great lights,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
8 the sun to rule over the day,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
9 the moon and stars to rule over the night,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;

10 who struck Egypt through their firstborn,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
11 and brought Israel out from among them,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
12 with a strong hand and an outstretched arm,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
13 who divided the Red Sea[a] in two,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
14 and made Israel pass through the midst of it,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
15 but overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea,[b]
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
16 who led his people through the wilderness,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
who made water flow from the rock,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;[c]
17 who struck down great kings,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
18 and killed famous kings,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
19 Sihon, king of the Amorites,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
20 and Og, king of Bashan,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
21 and gave their land as a heritage,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
22 a heritage to his servant Israel,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

23 It is he who remembered us in our low estate,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
24 and rescued us from our foes,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
25 who gives food to all flesh,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

26 O give thanks to the God of heaven,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

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