Epiphany to Lent; Head to Heart

The season of Epiphany, of which today is the final Sunday, takes you on a journey from the Magi at the cradle to the top of mountain shimmering in light.  It is supposed to be a season of growing understanding and awareness.  Or from the divine perspective a season of greater and greater self-revelation. What was first revealed through nature, a star rising in the east, and then by messengers, the angels, and then prophets like Simeon and Anna and The Baptist, and then by the Son in private like at Cana, is at last revealed in public.  Jesus performs the works of the messiah, proclaiming the Kingdom in every town healing their sick and casting out demons.  What was whispered, and dreamed about, and promised, is now proclaimed, and in the flesh, and fulfilled.  And we have seen it.

I don’t exactly know why, but I’ve been in a stewing mood recently.  And I wish I was talking about it being cooler and looking forward to a nice beef broth. No, just lots of things worming around. Things you know about.  Things you can see coming around the corner.  Things you can’t do anything about but walk through them. We always walk through the valley of the shadow.  Something that is tough to remember in the Valley of the Sun.  As I said to my mother before moving here, “how could anyone remain down for long living in this” while sitting poolside soaking in the strong rays. Maybe the Lenten journey will bring some insights that Epiphany doesn’t.  You can know something in your head, but while in the head it remains something of a theory.  Ideas and thoughts are a bit like ghosts in that way.  They only have as much reality as you let them.  It takes something like a Lent to move head knowledge into flesh knowledge.

Our Epistle lesson for today (2 Corinthians 3:12-4:6) feels a little like Paul stewing on some things.  Things he has stewed on before (Romans 9).  His fellow Jews have not heard him.  Paul has seen the glory, that dazzling light on the Damascus road.  He knows. It is interesting to me that the Lord when telling Ananias to receive Paul also tells him, “I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name (Acts 9:16).” Paul has seen the vision, and knows in the head, but he’s got a long lent in front of him. And we might say that this Lent is the recitation of the sufferings that Paul gives elsewhere. “Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. (2 Cor. 11:25-27).”  But none of that is what Paul stews over.  It’s the veil that is over the heart of his people.  And the one thing that can remove that veil, the thing Paul knows, is the one thing they won’t accept – Christ.

Our Epistle lesson cuts off before what is to me the greatest statement of a post Lenten faith in the bible, a faith that has moved from the head to the heart.  “We hold this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” Paul is always throwing himself at that wall hoping “for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh (Romans 9:3).” A head only knowledge might trick us into believing that almost anything is within our power.  That we can remold this clay as easily as we refashion ideas. That we can make our ghosts real. But it is the mature faith that will still do all those acts – that will walk through the valley, but understands that they are not testimonies to our strength. That we cannot remold the clay.  That we ourselves are but weak vessels.  But in our weakness, the light might shine. “Let the light shine out of darkness (2 Corinthians 4:6).”  It is on the far side of the stewing, after the valley, that we know the glory.

Discipleship 101

Biblical Text: Mark 1:14-20

The text is Jesus’ calling of the first disciples – Andrew and Peter, James and John. But prior to that there is a one sentence summary of the preaching of Jesus. “The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the Gospel.” Making disciples in the mission of the church. Jesus gave that to the church in the great commission. But what does it mean to be a disciple? That is the question of this sermon. Because the first think you have to confront is does it mean for everyone what it meant for those first 4? They left their nets and the father and followed. This sermon ponders that a bit. And it does so in the light of that summary of Jesus’ preaching. A summary of preaching which I think serves rather well as the basics of discipleship shared by all from Apostles to the present age.

The Perfect Gift (Christmas Day)

Biblical Text: Hebrews 1:1-12

With three sermons in 24 hours sometimes you pick a different text. That is what I did here. The Author of Hebrews explaining why we have the perfect gift in the Son.

Hope and Realization (Christmas Eve)

Biblical Text: Luke 2:1-7

The service is lessons and carols, so there are a multiplicity of texts. The real text is the Day – Christmas Eve – and the entire biblical story. This sermon is a reflection upon the dance between Hope and Realization. We really want the realization, but God likes Hope. Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot of realization, but not completed. And until it is complete, we live in Hope and Faith.

New Creations (Advent 4)

Biblical Text: Luke 1:26-38

Christmas on a Monday creates a blizzard of sermons. This is Christmas Eve Morning with is still technically Advent 4. It is pondering of the New Creation, that new creation which is Christ, incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary. And how that new creation is also the fulfillment of the promise to David. That’s the doctrine. The Angel’s announcement to Mary has the doctrine. It also has a direction toward Elizabeth who is someone to share it with. Mary has the doctrine, Mary has a community that shares it, and the response the Mary gives is that of faith. Mary in this is our pattern. We receive the proclamation even if we might not understand it – the doctrine. We are made part of the family – the church. And what is asked is faith.

Zechariah’s Song

Biblical Text: Luke 1:57-79

It is a short Advent Midweek season. Made shorter by our choosing to go caroling on a hay ride for Advent 3. So just a two sermon series. Which makes it perfect to meditate on the songs in Luke 1: Zechariah’s Song and Mary’s Song. This evening was Zechariah’s which is a nice summary of the old testament promises and how they are fulfilled in our hearing.

Advent Experiences

Biblical Text: Isaiah 64:1-9

It is the first Sunday of Advent. I typically use the traditional text for the Gospel lesson of the day, the Triumphal Entry or Palm Sunday. All the best Advent hymns for the day are keyed to that text. The story being told is the welcoming of the King. But I chose the Old Testament text to preach from today. This text is from the “third Isaiah” which I simple think of as the portion the prophet addresses to the those who have returned from exile yet find the experience not what was hoped for.

Isaiah’s plea feels like the plea of all those who believe they have the answers but are ignored. “Would that you would rend the heavens and come down.” It is not the lament of unbelief, nor is it the prayer of those persecuted. It is the cry of the dismissed. It is the ask of those more zealous for the Lord than maybe the Lord himself. Think Joshua running to Moses about Eldad and Medad. Or James and John seeking fire from heaven on a volunteer disciple. The plea is not in itself sinful, but we should examine our motivations. Do we desire God’s presence that we might be proved right over our enemies? Or do we desire it for the sake of His promises? This sermon meditates on faith, the promises of God and our desire to seem them in power.

I, I Myself Will Rescue

Biblical Text: Ezekiel 34: 11-16, 20-24 (Matthew 25:31-46)

This was the Last Sunday of the church year. In the wordle picture over the last few weeks I’ve been making the green (the color of the season) darker and starting to bleed in the blues and purples of Advent. The Last Sunday is given over to the contemplation of Christ the King and more specifically the judgement. That is the Gospel lesson. But in this sermon I wanted to jump off of the Old Testament text from Ezekiel. The gospel message is clearer. God himself sets out to save. The picture in Ezekiel is the sheep of God – the people of Israel – who have been abused in every way possible by their leadership of every stripe such that they have been scattered. God himself promises to be the Shepherd and retrieve them from everywhere they have been driven. The sermon meditates on how this has been fulfilled and what remains by faith.

Starting from Nothing?

Biblical Text: Mathew 25:14-30

I’m endlessly fascinated with the parable of the talents. It puts forward some obvious truths, that our society rejects, in passing. It’s main comparison – the one the entire judgement is based upon – is something that we miss because we take it as obvious, but then don’t observe how we act. A couple of those obvious truths: 1) God is not about fairness. “He gave to the servants according to their ability.” 2) With what it given to us we have absolute discretion. God is much freer in how he entrusts than we ever are. 3) What God entrusts is never a small amount. Even the least servant got a full talent, a stupendous sum. I think those three truths might form our typically brief against God. He’s not fair; He’s not present to help; He hasn’t given us enough to work with.

And that brief against God, when you get people being honest, is what leads to the parable’s real comparison. The first two have faith in their master’s judgement. The last servant views his master as a hard man and stingy. It isn’t really the performance of the first two measured in money that gets praised. The master doesn’t take any of it back and in fact says “you’ve been faithful in little, I will set you over much.” In the sermon I take this roughly as “you’ve been faithful in this short sinful life, I will give you eternal life.” It’s the faith in the judgement displayed in their actions, not the absolute return. The last servant thinks what has been given – this life – is a complete set up. That the master is out to get him no matter what. The picture of God is of an ogre. When of course the revelation of God is Christ, on the cross, for us.

Real pagans I think tended to be much more honest. They did their sacrifices more to keep the gods far away from them. Running into a pagan god never went well for the human. They were ogres. (And well according to Paul they were demons, so…). I think our society has that view, but you have to scratch off the veneer. The veneer we have is that “of course God is good.” Of course we define good as nice. The first time we think God is unfair or doesn’t show up, the brief against God comes out. In some ways the modern church in what it teaches forms people into the servant with 1 talent. When what Jesus wants us to see is the stupendous nature of the grace that has been given. You have life. You have this life right now. You have the promise of eternal life. “The joy of your master.” God is the lover of mankind. He has set you up to succeed. Yes, not is the way we often define success, but in the way God does – the following of Christ, his son.

Anyway, this is getting as long as the sermon which is a meditation on these themes of life given to us, and our response.

Singing from the Same Hymnbook

Sometimes you write about topical things driven by events – like last week on Israel.  Sometimes you write about one of the texts of the week because there are good things in it, but it isn’t the sermon text.  Sometimes you write about a point of theology because from reading and meditation you have a handle on it.  And sometimes you write about purely local happenings.  There is an old phrase that “if you are explaining you are losing.”  It comes from politics and it is probably true. It is probably true because most people aren’t persuadable.  Explaining is attempting to persuade and if nobody is open to it, if you are doing it, you lose. Better off pandering even if badly. But while I might be that cynical about our body politic, I’m not ready to be that cynical about the church. I like to believe that the Holy Spirit still works.

So, I’m going to talk about “singing from the same hymnbook.” That is a phrase for a reason.  Institutions, like the church, used to form people.  You didn’t join something because you already agreed 100%.  You joined something, or honestly you were born into it, and how it behaved formed you over time.  Everyone grew together – like the body of Christ – into singing from the same hymnbook.  Now there are legitimate complaints about that, but we’ve heard all those complaints turned up to 11 for two generations.  To the point that I’m not sure how many hymnbooks are left. And what is the result of this? Weak institutions that can’t form anything and that nobody trusts. Is that really the world we want to inhabit?

How did we get into this place where we don’t even know our own hymnbook? From my observation there were two paths.  The first path is the one of decay.  The hymnbook – absolutely true – used to be called “the layman’s bible”. The most used religious book in any Lutheran household used to be the hymnbook.  The Anglicans called theirs The Book of Common Prayer.  And that is what the hymnbook used to be, a daily companion to personal and family prayer life. Part of the decay was the decay of personal and family prayer life.  As the hymnbook was less used in personal life, many pastors responded by shrinking the hymns used in worship.  Every congregation has a repertoire.  A healthy congregation should have at least 200 hymns in that repertoire. Many that I know of have about 50. The problem with this is that the overall service becomes non-sensical. For example, when the gospel reading is the Parable of the Wedding Banquet, it makes complete sense to sing a bog-standard Lutheran hymn LSB 514 “The Bridegroom Soon Will Call Us.” In a congregation that has decayed to 50 hymns, you sing Amazing Grace – a great hymn – once a month.  Even if Amazing Grace has nothing to do with the Wedding Feast which warns about our attitude toward that gift of grace. The second path was defection. There is something more popular over here.  Heck with the rest of the institution, I’m going to benefit personally at their expense by hopping on the bandwagon.  The result is churches theoretically with the same teaching pulling in separate ways.

Our hymnbook – Lutheran Service Book – along with those prayer and study supports and liturgies at in the start, has 635 hymns deemed appropriate to support a congregation’s spiritual life. They cover both church seasons – Advent to End Times – and topics – sacraments, sanctification, trust, praise and others. In 15 years at my prior congregation did we ever sing every one of those 635 hymns? No way. How many did we sing? Roughly 400. Ok, but how many yearly, or on a regular basis?  We sang roughly 200 hymns in a given year.  Say 4 per week for 52 weeks ignoring advent, lent and other occasional services. Now within those 200 there were probably 50 that were sang a couple times or more a year, think A Mighty Fortress or Jesus Sinners Doth Receive.  There were about 100 that would be sang at least yearly, think On Jordan’s Bank the Baptist’s Cry or Stricken’ Smitten’ and Afflicted.  And there would be another 100 that would probably be 2 years out of the 3 year cycle of readings.  Out of that you form a congregational repertoire of about 200.   

Part of the job of the pastor is forming the faith.  I am not doing my job if I allow the faith to swim around in in a shallow pool.  Partly because that shallow pool might appeal to one section, but another truly hates it. And partly because life is ocean deep. And if all you have is Amazing Grace, and you don’t have I Walk in Danger All the Way, your faith might get eaten by leviathan.  So, my suggestion, if we sing a hymn you don’t know is take it home.  That is why we publish it with the melody line.  It will be coming back.  Use it for your personal piety during the week.  Let it form you for a week in your thoughts and words. Let us work toward being Christians who can swim in the deep.