Kings, Sheep, and the Stars in their Courses

Matthew 2:1-12

 Today we celebrate the epiphany, that is, the revelation of Jesus as the Messiah, the light of world, revealed in our gospel lesson by a star that shines overhead. And in our gospel story, strangers – foreigners from another land – outsiders in fact, become key witnesses to both the threat and promise of the Christ child. The question for us today, is this: how will we witness to the light that shines in this world through this Jesus who abides in us and guides the way of the church?

There is a lectionary comic strip called Agnus Day that I occasionally share postings of on Grace’s Facebook page.

It features two “sheep” named Rick and Ted, who we get to listen in on as they meet up at coffee fellowship after church each week. There, they comment on the lessons, usually the Gospel heard in church that day. Rick is Ted’s mentor and tries to help unravel the mystery of the text by answering Ted’s on-point questions. The cartoon is the creation of a Lutheran pastor and can provide some chuckles and well as “ah ha” moments for church nerds like me – and you.

Three years ago, when Epiphany actually fell on Sunday, with the title “The star wasn’t the only miracle that day,” Rick and Ted’s conversation went like this:

Ted: So, the magi just walk in on Herod and ask where to find Jesus?

Rick: Yeah, that’s pretty much it.

Ted: Amazing!

Rick: What, that they are seeking the Messiah in the company of a tyrant?

Ted: No! That three men would actually stop and ask for directions!

You’ve seen similar cartoons and punchlines to a similar joke, I’m sure – the absurdity of men asking for directions.

        But the cartoonist points out another strange detail from the gospel lesson for today – that these travelers, foreigners from the East, likely from Babylon or beyond, would not only stop and ask for directions – but that they ask these directions from Herod, who is well known as a tyrant king, and they are asking him where an opposing king might be found.

Surely, if these were, as tradition later defined them, “wise men,” they would have known that they were indeed stirring up some very dangerous waters with their question. Herod’s tyranny and cruelty were well-known. And no king would tolerate the presence and competition nor even the suggestion of another king within his realm.

        But that is not the only strange detail in the telling of the gospel story today. In fact, strange details are stacking up.

        There is this business about that star. The star that the text says, went ahead of the magi until it stopped over the place where they found the child – the now nearly two-year old Jesus – together with his mother.

        Who were these men who have so stirred our imaginations? They have been called “wise men,” and later were defined as “Three Kings.” Yet this term, magi, comes from the Greek text where the word to describe them is magoi.

This is a word that might better be translated “magician” and yet it is highly likely that these men were astrologers – another way this word is used in antiquity, and an apt description of men “from the east” who were known to spend much of their time searching the skies for signs and portents connecting the astrological occurrences to occurrences in the physical, earth-bound world.

We can imagine them as either the scientist astronomers who scan our skies looking for origins of stars and the secrets to the universe locked away in the skies; or as astrologers, who study the skies comparing them to star-charts and seeking to find the keys of the future unlocked through their interpretations.

Either way, they knew the skies. They sought answers to the past, present and especially the future among the stars and planets they studied. And there, in those skies they knew so well, they observed changes that point to something wonderful and strange and awe-inspiring.

If they lived in contemporary times we can imagine them reporting to Science Daily or the Institute for Creation Research: Astronomers have found a new star, hitherto before not observed in the skies and it beckoned them to follow, which they did, stopping in Jerusalem for clarification and direction. Now, they themselves enter the story.

Barbara Brown Taylor writes that the arrival of the magi in Jerusalem signals the fulfillment of Simeon’s prophecy, the prophecy that was reported in Luke’s gospel when Simeon first sets his eyes on the infant Jesus in the temple on the day of his circumcision and naming – “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed.”

The magi, outsiders, foreigners, Gentiles, no less, are among the first to recognize – and witness – to the miraculous presence of God in human form among us – in the Christ child. By their very presence they themselves become part of the portent of what is to come – that truth that will be born into its own forms of opposition - that through the Messiah God is calling and blessing people of all nations and tongues to participate in the new kingdom God is creating, to share in the blessing of God’s incarnation among us, and to join in the refrain of homage to Christ, the king.

The response of the magi to the vision they behold is that of overwhelming joy. The Greek translation expresses their reaction in terms that go well beyond the contained joy of our Christmas and Epiphany songs and carols. The joy of the magi is expansive, explosive, heart-bursting, mind-blowing, uncontainable joy. It is the kind of reaction that demands movement and action and their first response is to give to this king the finest gifts within their means.

The magi have much to teach us about this business of testifying to the miracle that God has placed before us. Their astonishment at God’s presence among them sends them to their knees.

Their joy is remarkable. In it, they offer their very best gifts. They enter the story as strangers and they leave as friends – friends who teach us the way of obedience to God and wonderment at what God has done.

They pay homage to the Messiah.

This is the story of the first epiphany, for the revelation of God’s glory and incarnation to the magi is for us a preview of so many more epiphanies to come:

In our scriptures, God is revealed in Jesus at his baptism, a story we will hear again next week. Just a few weeks after that we will once again celebrate God’s revelation at the transfiguration of Christ on the mountaintop, where the glory of God shone around him. God’s revelation happens again through the miracles Jesus performs, and then, through his Passion, death and resurrection.

God’s presence among us in revealed in the everyday stories of our lives, too. God’s presence is revealed in ordinary people who do ordinary and extraordinary things.

The news is full of horrible stories of violence and terror and horrible suffering at the hands of fire and storm. But if you listen, if you pay attention you will find within each story the accompanying stories of angels of mercy who reach out to help, rescue, heal, comfort, extend mercy and grace, offer forgiveness, show God’s love, care and compassion.

God’s presence is revealed for us each week as we celebrate God’s Word come among us and as we celebrate the revelation of God’s healing, abiding, forgiving word through the holy meal we share. God’s light is revealed in moments quiet and moments profound.

A couple of weeks ago, the Vatican had announced forward movement in the process that will lead to Mother Theresa being canonized a saint. Regardless of how you view the process and practice of the Catholic Church in the naming of saints, you probably agree that certainly in the way she lived her life and served the poorest of the poor, Mother Theresa shined the light and love of Christ on those with whom she came in contact.

Last week, we received a thank you card here at Grace, from one of the residents of St. Mark’s Village, an elderly recipient of Christmas gifts through Grace’s Christmas adoption activity and also a regular recipient of meals provided through feeding programs in which we engage each month, where the light of Christ shines on our small act of outreach: "Thank you so much for gifts through your Christmas gifting project,” he wrote. “It made my Christmas--made me feel so good. May God bless!!! [I] Just like what your church does for me. Happy New Year!!!"  

On Thursday a young man came through our doors, looking for assistance and thanking us for the help we’ve given before – assistance which has helped him and his wife show their young son what the love of strangers can do, in the name of Christ. At the end of our meeting, I held hands with father and son, as we prayed together for God’s light to continue to shine down on them.  

God’s presence will be revealed when we come together and profess our faith and when we open our doors for strangers and foreigners to enter into this sanctuary, so that together we can celebrate with overwhelming joy the light of God’s love. That love is made alive when together we are sent out to serve the community around us, to proclaim the good news of God’s glory, and when we reach out into the world through our collections and activities to feed the hungry and clothe the naked.

Thanks be to God who uses us to witness to the Light. Thanks be to God who is revealed through the ordinary and the extraordinary. Thanks be to God, who gathers together all the nations of the world and proclaims that tyrants need no longer be feared, because God’s light is revealed in Christ the King. Thanks be to God, the brightest star in the heaven, who blesses us with overwhelming joy, that we may be a blessing for the world. AMEN.

Star Wars, Baby Jesus and Hymns of Rebellion

Christmas Eve, 2015.

          While I may not have seen the long awaited, much hyped, most recently released installment in the Star Wars, I have seen the previous films. Whether or not you are a Star Wars fan or have seen each of the episodes in the franchise a hundred times, you probably recognize words from the opening crawl that set the story in time. Each one of the movies begins with a prologue. Those words let the audience in on what has led up to the point where the action begins as the start of the movie. 

          In the very first Star Wars movie we read the words rapidly crawling up the screen, “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, …” as John Williams’ famous Star Wars theme plays in the background; and each movie afterward starts with the same music and a scrolling prologue that adds to the story and says in a few words what has happened leading up to the start of this particular movie.

          With each Star Wars installment, we remember the origins of the story. We remember the characters that have come and gone and the ones who have been central to the story. And we remember that at its core this is a story about the age-old forces of good resisting and rebelling against, the forces of evil.

          We witness the struggle between these forces in the movies. We root for the good guys who, at the end of each movie have gained the upper hand, yet we know that the struggle between the imperial forces (those are the bad guys) and the rebellion (the good guys) is not over. Far from it. [After all, there is another sequel or prequel to come.]

          At the conclusion of each of these movies, even as the x-wing fighters make their victory laps, we know that the evil still exists and will once again raise its ugly head, but we also revel in the fact that the Good guys continue to resist, that the rebellion continues to grow, and that good does triumph; and one day, hopefully, will overcome all evil. Despite the twists and turns in the plot, we can believe that it will ultimately win not just the hour or the day, but the whole shebang.

          Tonight we gather as we do each year on Christmas Eve, and sing our beloved Christmas carols and hear again the now-familiar biblical texts telling the story of the nativity of Our Lord Jesus.

          We rejoice in the fact that God’s love is so strong and God’s mercy is so broad that God came to earth as a little child. We revel in the birth of this tiny baby, which is just the beginning of that episode in which the grand story of our redemption is revealed.

          As we do every Christmas Eve, we hear the familiar words from Isaiah, our own prologue to the story: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them a light has shined.”

          And then, we hear the words we long to hear, the words we have been waiting to hear. We hear the words of hope: “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

          Did you hear the wondrous, good news? “A child has been born.” And then, the words that tell us why this is good news: This child has been born For us. This child has been born for you and for me.

          This is our prologue. This is our song, and it sets the stage for the glorious story that brings us to this night. But this prologue also reminds us of the stark reality of our world. It reminds us of what is at stake. People walk in darkness. There is darkness in the world. Unlike the movies, this is not fiction. This is real. While good and evil still battle in the world, we rejoice tonight because God is the ultimate victor, for our sake.

          The truth is that God has reached out to humanity before – freeing Israel from slavery, giving us the law to guide our ways, sending the prophets to warn us of the danger we risked because we rebelled not against evil, but against the ways of God.

          Through it all, God’s love for humankind persisted. God’s desire for us grew ever greater. God’s determination that we should not perish but should enjoy an everlasting relationship with God was firmly rooted in God’s endless love. In the birth of Jesus, the Messiah, God sent God’s own eternal light and life to the world.

          We gather this Christmas Eve surrounded by the beauty of the night, sharing the story, singing hymns and carols because with the birth of Jesus God has inaugurated a new age. It is the age of hope. It is the age of our salvation. We sing our beloved carols, our own songs of rebellion against the evil and tyranny of the world:

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant! O come ye, to Bethlehem, and behold him, our newborn king. He is the highest most holy, light of light eternal…Jesus…and to him we give all glory and praise.

We sing our victory songs, acknowledging that God’s goodness reaches down to earth in this babe born in Bethlehem, and is the only power strong enough conquer the sinful forces that seek to claim us. And so, on this night, we are encouraged to shout out the good news:

Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere; go tell it on the mountain that down, in a lonely manger the humble Christ was born, as God sent us salvation this blessed Christmas morn.

          The history of the liberation of humankind from the evil forces of sin and death reads a little bit like the saga of the Imperial Forces and the Rebellion of the Star Wars movies.

          “In those days a decree went out…” and suddenly we attach a chronological time to God’s advent into the world through Jesus Christ. The mystery of the ages is that this miraculous birth then becomes kairos time – God’s time – the time when the veil between heaven and earth is lifted, and God descends to earth and enters our humanity in the birth of the Messiah.

          In this humble birth God stands against the powers of the world, the evil that lurks around us. God faces down sin and death. Through this birth, God came to tell us that we are deeply, truly and eternally loved and desired by God, and that nothing in the world can keep us from God’s love and grace and blessing.

          God’s message to us tonight is that God’s love is for all, and that God’s love not only wins the day but wins every day forever and ever. God’s love is for everyone, for you, and you, and me; whether we feel lovable or not; whether we feel we are worthy or not; whether we feel we are strong enough to resist the forces all around us or not. God’s love is for each and every one of us.

          In a few moments, we will sing out our battle cry against all the forces that would seek to deny God’s love, God’s power or God’s very existence. We will sing out a song of rebellion full of the blessed assurance of God’s eternal victory:

Love has come—a light in the darkness! Love shines forth in the Bethlehem skies. Love is born! Come share in the wonder. Love has come and never will leave us! Love is life everlasting and free. Love is Jesus within and among us. Love is Jesus, Immanuel.

Glory be to God, on high.

Merry Christmas!

Amen.

Flirting with Joy

Zechariah 3:14-20 & Advent 3

Rejoice! Shout! Exult with all your heart!

            These are the words that set the stage for us on this third Sunday of Advent, as the count-down to Christmas races on. It’s no wonder that these are the words we hear on this Sunday, a day known as “Gaudete Sunday”, Gaudete being the Latin word for “rejoice.” And our biblical texts this day all reflect this theme*. Rejoice! Shout! Exult!

            This exhortation represents a shift in our Advent journey from the messages of judgement and the warnings that we have heard delivered by the prophets through scripture the past couple of weeks.

            In our worship, the shift in tone reflects the excitement that is building as Christmas approaches and the time draws ever nearer for the coming of the Christ child, the embodiment of God’s love and mercy for all this broken world.

            And yet, even as these words ring out, Rejoice! Shout! Exult! I know that some of us struggle to feel cause for rejoicing.

            This has been a tough year. There have been major challenges in our individual lives and in our world. We are faced with the knowledge of our imperfection, our culpability in the pain and suffering of the world, in the prejudice and bigotry that resides deep within, in our failure to value every human life as Jesus does.

            A number of you, like me, have lost loved ones. Some have suffered serious illness, or undergone grueling medical treatments; others have undergone surgical procedures and rehabilitation. Physical, emotional and spiritual challenges have been faced and are perhaps still linger.

            There may have been broken or changed relationships and families.

            Even if things in your own life have been spared difficulties like these this year, it is likely that you have walked and are still walking beside a friend or loved one who was going through a difficult time.

            For these reasons and more, some of us may feel may feel ill-equipped to rejoice, exult, and shout for joy, or to even face the festive season or the future.

            Yet still we hear the words from Zephaniah, Rejoice! Sing aloud! Shout! Exult! And then assurance of Isaiah: Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid.

            An article published in the New York Times this week reported that fear is at its highest level since the months immediately following 9/11/2001.

            A continuing onslaught of terror attacks around the world have set people on edge. Public confidence in our leaders to protect us is shaken.

            Even the most mundane of our plans has suddenly taken on a new dimension of doubt, planning, second-guessing and challenge. Should we travel? Should we fly in an airplane? Are trains safe? Is it wise to gather in any large venue? Who do we let in and who do we keep out? What are the limits of what we will do remain safe?

            How do we face this Christmas season with the buoyancy required to do as the prophets tell us to do, rejoice, shout and exult, when the reality of our lives is that we are stressed, struggling, and surrounded by fear?

            And then we hear it: another Word of God comes to us in each of our scripture readings:

“You shall fear no more;”

            “I will trust, and will not be afraid;”

                        “Do not worry about anything,….”

                                    And finally, even as he has pointed out the hypocrisy of those who claim to be followers, John the Baptist “…. proclaimed the good news to the people.”

            Placed side by side, these exhortations and proclamation invite us to hear and trust in God’s promise that God, who sees us just as we are – broken, sad, struggling, fearful, reactive, and full of sin – loves us still. God promises that through Jesus, he will remove the chaff from us – the outer, imperfect sheath of the perfect people God created us to be.

            This Sunday, three-quarters of the way through Advent, there is a burst of pink – the candle on our Advent wreath which was lit today – which signals the welcome hope and attendant joy that our sorrows, worries and the fear that plague us will not define us – because God will fulfill our hope that it does not.

            Rather, through the coming of the anointed one, God, defines us and will define us as God’s beloved children, worthy of redemption and washed from sin in the waters of Baptism.

            This Sunday of rejoicing alerts us that something better is coming – that as the fulfillment of God’s promise of redemption is at hand – this Word begins to prepare us for the rejoicing to come with the arrival of God-with-us.

Rejoice! Shout! Exult with all your heart! Have no fear!  

            Because –

God will lift up the lowly,

            the suffering ones,

                        the outcast

                                     and the oppressed,

                                                and will enfold them

                                                            in unending, ultimate joy and protection. 

            Our worship today reflects the hope that abides within us, inspired by God’s Word, and plants the seeds for true joy that persists deplete all that assails us. Advent is traditionally a season of somber reflection and penitence, a counterpart to Lent. That’s why until this week our worship space has been devoid of festive markings and decorations.

            Fasting, repentance and spiritual preparation place our focus on this anticipation of the coming of the Lord.

            Right about this time in the season, we often hear the lament – and perhaps share in it that, for whatever reason – whether in our planning and busywork or by the placement of our hearts and emotions, we are just not ready for Christmas.

            Our lament, it seems, has a lot to do with the stuff we need to do, and little to do with what God has done and is doing in our midst.

            Such is the way of sin. Such is the way of the world. Such is the way of a humanity which calls out to be saved from all that frightens us – even from ourselves, but which steadfastly turns away from the mercy and love of God, is never quite prepared for God to come among us, is never quite ready to welcome God’s desire for us.

            But look around us today. There are signs of life springing forth all around us. As Zephaniah assured the people that their penance was over and God’s salvation was near, there are signs that God is at work here, today, not only in the greening of the church, but in the people who surround us, in the prayers that unite us, in the meal that feeds us, in the light of the candle of joy that shines before us.

            God will have the last word. On this day God’s Word to us reminds us that God is already in our midst as we prepare for the incarnation of God to come, bringing needed transformation to our hearts.

            Because of God’s love and even because of God’s judgement, even as we sit with the reality of a world gone wrong, even while we still sit with illness, pain, brokenness as our companions on earth, we CAN rejoice, we CAN shout AND exult, because God’s abiding presence with us gives voice to the hope and the acknowledgement that the joy God brings is not the claim that, for now, there is no suffering. God’s promise today and the prophets’ invitation to rejoice, shout and exult in the Lord does not mean that God is blind to the ways in which we continue to hurt, continue to sin, continue to oppress others, continue to fail to acknowledge with our lives the reality of the dawn of God which breaks upon us. Rather, the light that shines in the darkness, the light that breaks the bonds of our sorrow and hopelessness, is the light of Christ that assures us that new life is coming to live among us in the form of a savior who will show us the way to live.

            The same God who intimately knows us and who knows our fears and failures sends us abundant hope and promise:

            “Do not fear…The Lord, your God, is in your midst.” ….”

                        Do not fear” is not a plea, but a declaration.

                                    “Do not be afraid, Zechariah,”

                                                “Do not be afraid, Mary.”

            Later, on a night not long from now, in the story that the evangelist Luke tells of a night of fear and pain and dis-ease, we will hear the words, “do not be afraid…I am bringing you good news of great joy.”

            And then, another Gospel proclaims at its end, “Do not be afraid…he is not here, for he has been raised.” (Matt 28:5-6)

            Zephaniah and Luke join all of the voices speaking throughout the scriptures in a persistent, insistent biblical refrain. “Do not fear” is repeated over and over again because human beings are afraid of many things. But by God’s Spirit, they invite us to have faith; to believe that God is with us and for us, and God is preparing us for a new reality of living as God’s faithful people.  God declares that we shall fear no longer, because God will not only bring victory over the enemies all around us, but also those deep within. God will join us in rejoicing and song. God will join together a wide variety of people in singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving.

            We can rejoice this day because we can trust that God will restore the broken, destroy the fear, and bring to rights the cosmos and all that inhabit it, all the creatures God so dearly loves.

            And so, by the power and promise of God, we are confident as we listen again with the words of the apostle Paul:           

            “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Thanks be to God! Amen.

*Additional texts this Sunday are Isaiah 12:2-6, Philippians 4:4-7, & Luke 3:7-18.

Football, Figs, and Faith

Everywhere I look lately, I see Peanuts. Peanuts characters, that is, the ones created by the late Charles Schultz. There are Peanuts on TV, in the movies, even on Facebook.

With all this focus on the Peanuts, I have a favorite Peanuts scene I’ve been thinking about. It’s the one where the hapless Charlie Brown is playing football with his friends. It’s his turn to kick the ball. He gets himself all ready, and winds up to give that pigskin his all, while his friend Lucy holds the ball in place. And then, just as Charlie Brown approaches the ball, as he rears back with his kicking foot, preparing to send that ball to the moon, what happens?

That’s right. Lucy whisks it away. And poor Charlie Brown, totally unprepared for this deception, flips and falls, flat on his back, stars in his eyes and ringing in his ears.

Today, I view that scene as an allegory for life. It is reflective of our hopes and dreams, our plans and our preparations, and our vulnerability to forces waiting to be unleashed, forces which can turn our world upside down, leaving us with stars spinning wildly before our eyes, and bells ringing in our ears.

Charlie Brown’s football incident illustrates what it might feel like when all that you are aiming for in life is suddenly whipped away, out of reach, leaving you totally stunned, breathless, and disbelieving.

We enjoy a good laugh at the plight of Charlie Brown, perhaps because we recognize – uncomfortably so, at times - that we are all subject to Charlie Brown moments. The truth is that in life, those moments come all too often.

While we might chuckle at the Peanuts gang, and shake our heads at their antics, I have to admit that there is a certain poignancy to the image of the stolen football for me today. Because I think a lot of us are feeling the emotional toll of lost opportunities, of plans and lives gone suddenly awry, of unexpected reversals in life.

Those losses and betrayals might come in the form of facing a first holiday season since the death of a loved one or the breakup of a significant relationship. Or they might take the form of illness, an unexpected diagnosis, the health struggles of your child, your parent, your spouse. Losses and struggles might be work-related. And, we are subject to demons from within and without which have the ability to whisk our feet right out from under us, leaving us a Charlie Brown kind of breathless.

If you are like me, you may have come here deeply troubled this morning, overwhelmed by the news of the past few weeks and the months before them. If you are like me, you sometimes find yourself thoroughly shaken and grieving over the tragedies in this world, the opportunities lost, the betrayal of our expectation that we are safe and secure from evil.

If you are like me, your sense of shock is reinforced when you hear about shootings, child abductions, wars and rumors of wars, a planet in danger of overheating, plane crashes and errant missiles, bombings and chemical warfare, protests and riots, all overwhelming realities of this world.

If you are like me, you experience sadness, discouragement and despair at the realization that our progress eradicating prejudice, bigotry and hatred as a society is but an illusion, and that justice is far more fragile than we ever thought it could be.

While we seek peace we live in a world where turmoil and death, violence and chaos exist. We seek justice yet are surrounded by evidence of corruption and brutality and deception.

But then, Advent comes and with it we hear the promise of the ages. We hear the promise that our redemption is not only coming, it is already among us.

At first glance, our gospel text seems like a creepy way to begin this season of Advent. Jesus speaks of signs in the sun, the moon and the stars and predicts distress among nations who will be confused by roaring seas and waves.

Jesus predicts people will be afraid – so afraid that they will faint. But, when these things take place, Jesus says, pay attention. Be alert. Because your redemption is drawing near. It is present. It is active. It is abundant in Christ himself.

As a common tree that people of Jesus’ time could relate to, Jesus turns to the fig tree. The coming of the Son of Man and your reason for hope is like this - it’s like the fig tree. Just as you know summer is coming, bringing with it the ripening of the fruit, when you see the leaves begin to sprout on fig trees, when you see these signs I just mentioned, stand up and raise your heads and know that your redemption is near.

Don’t be frivolous, Jesus continues, wasting your time so that you are caught unawares. Instead, pay attention, and while you are doing so, pray. Remain firmly connected to God. Remain fully dependent on God. Remain faithful to God.

 When we look back over the course of the Common Era, is there ever a time that doesn’t reflect the signs that Jesus describes?

History reveals a broad record of celestial events – lunar eclipses, solar eclipses, solar storms, the birth and death of stars, meteor showers, and so on. We see “historic” storms and cycles of catastrophic weather events. We see earthquakes and cyclones and tornadoes – droughts and floods, tsunamis and other devastating events. And with each one there are many who faint with fear, predict the oncoming destruction of mankind and our planet, and bemoan our future.

But as Jesus tells us that these things will be part of our worldly experience, he also tells us, that when they occur, know without question that we need not fear. Our hope, our redemption, is at hand. Because Jesus is present. Jesus is acting for the benefit of the world.

Though the sin and brokenness in the world exist, God is fully present, fully working, fully redeeming us from our sin through Jesus Christ.

David Lose explains it this way:

“…according to Luke….. we live and work, love and struggle between the two great poles of God’s intervention in the world: the coming of Christ in the flesh in order to triumph over death through his cross and resurrection”… “and the coming of Christ in glory at the end of time and his triumph over all the powers of earth and heaven. This “in-between time,” though fraught with tension, is nevertheless also characterized by hope and courage because we know that the end of this story, while not yet here, has been written by the resurrected Christ.”

Jesus reminds us that he is the Lord of history and we can trust that he will bring all things to a good end. So, what of plane crashes and war, disease and divorce, death and disaster? God has the final word. For the sake of love, in Jesus Christ God has waged God’s own war on sin and death and has won the victory.

In the meantime, in mercy for the fallen world, God sent Jesus Christ to reign in our hearts and in our world, shaping our behaviors so that they reflect the love and hope that God has for all of humankind.

Alan Boesak has written this beautiful Advent Credo uses Jesus’ own words to describe how Jesus is the one who has both come and is yet still coming, is present yet is still arriving:

It is not true that creation and the human family are doomed to destruction and loss—
This is true: For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life;

It is not true that we must accept inhumanity and discrimination, hunger and poverty, death and destruction—

This is true: I have come that they may have life, and that abundantly.

It is not true that violence and hatred should have the last word, and that war and destruction rule forever—
This is true: Unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, his name shall be called wonderful councilor, mighty God, the Everlasting, the Prince of peace.

It is not true that we are simply victims of the powers of evil who seek to rule the world—
This is true: To me is given authority in heaven and on earth, and lo I am with you, even until the end of the world.

It is not true that we have to wait for those who are specially gifted, who are the prophets of the Church before we can be peacemakers—
This is true: I will pour out my spirit on all flesh and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions and your old men shall have dreams.

It is not true that our hopes for liberation of humankind, of justice, of human dignity of peace are not meant for this earth and for this history—
This is true: The hour comes, and it is now, that the true worshipers shall worship God in spirit and in truth.

So let us enter Advent in hope, even hope against hope. Let us see visions of love and peace and justice. Let us affirm with humility, with joy, with faith, with courage: Jesus Christ—the life of the world.

Amen.

From Walking on Thorns, by Allan Boesak, Eerdmans, 2004.

This is the sermon from November 30, 2015, Advent I. Text: Luke 21:25-36