Choose Your Stories Well

Luke 4:14-30

Last week a wee little snowstorm interrupted our ability to worship together, and so our gospel text is, in fact, the assigned gospel from both weeks. I think we need to hear the whole story in order to understand the good news this gospel Luke brings to us today.

Last week’s text sets up the situation and gives us a taste of what the people might have experienced in the synagogue that day. Jesus is at the beginning of his public ministry.  He comes to his hometown of Nazareth, and on the Sabbath, he goes to the synagogue, just like the rest of the observant Jews of his hometown did. The congregation is made up of old friends and neighbors who listen while scriptures are read and preached. Jesus takes a turn reading.

He is handed an Isaiah scroll and from it he chooses this familiar passage to read out loud – and it’s one of their favorite passages. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me ……. he has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

The crowd lingers on each word, especially coming from the mouth of this man who is one of them – “Is not this Joseph’s son?” They are so proud of him - a fine example of a hometown boy-done-good.

The text Jesus has just read is one of hope and promise. It is the promise of grace and mercy and God’s unending compassion – for them – for God’s chosen people.  They are full of anticipation for what will come next from the mouth of Jesus. They are prepared for him to confirm that this good news has been saved and presented just for them – for the good and faithful Jews that they are.

They are in for a surprise – a shock, in fact.

Have you ever known of a surprise to backfire? Not all surprises turn out the way you expect them to, do they? Take my 50^th birthday party, for instance. It was so well planned that I hadn’t a clue that it was coming, so, I unwittingly went shopping and dawdled my time – and lots of it, away – leaving a houseful of guests waiting and waiting – for I don’t know how long, for me to return home.  In the end that story, turned out okay. Such is not always the case.

Not all surprises are good surprises; not all surprises are well-received or turn out okay. I’m sure you can think of examples of those, too. Things can simply go wrong sometimes.

Jesus has this uncanny ability to surprise people, and they aren’t always pleased by it. That’s what happened on the day Jesus read and preached in his home synagogue in Nazareth.

To give a little background, this story really has its beginning about 500 years earlier, as the exiles return home to reestablish their lives in the Promised Land following decades of captivity in Babylon.

A controversy arose then, which was still alive when Jesus came along. It has to do with how far God’s care and love extend into the world. Who is inside the circle of God’s love and protection, and who is on the outside?

Tradition said that in order to maintain the purity of faith it was necessary to eliminate all foreign influences. All you had to do to support this argument, was to point to the historic debacle of Solomon. It was his foreign wives who brought the pagan religions to Judah, sending the kingdom on a downward spiral that led to defeat by the Babylonians and the exile of People of Israel in the first place.

There were many who were quite certain, therefore, that God’s care could not extend beyond the bloodlines of the Hebrew people. “No intermarriage!” cried Ezra, the priest, and Nehemiah, the prophet. The race had to be kept pure. Old tales of caution such as those about Esther and Daniel were recited, in which the preservation of God’s people in the face of the demonic influences of foreigners was the clear point.

But then, at the same time, there were people on the other side of the argument. While holding just as much reverence for the law, they did not believe God’s grace was limited to those of their own race.

They told stories too; like the story of Jonah, who refused to believe that the foreigners of Nineveh could possibly be saved. Jonah only preached in that God-forsaken place after being spit up on shore by a great fish, but then God changed God’s mind after the people repented, didn’t he? God saved those people. Then there is the story of Ruth, a despised Moabite, who not only was accepted into the community by marriage, but became a part of the royal bloodline of David – and Jesus.

Imagine that: two opposing camps. Each equally dedicated to the faith. Each with their own interpretation of the law, each with their own stories to support their position. At odds and increasingly polarized in their arguments and practices. Does this sound at all familiar to you?

We see the same kind of thing today. There are insiders and outsiders. There are those we are certain live within God’s grace and those who don’t, because in our human economy, there are limits to God’s grace, mercy, compassion, and to blessing.

Our lines may be drawn based on race, color, religion, socio-economic standing, lifestyle sexuality, gender, or political leanings.

Not surprisingly, Jesus took a clear position on the matter. He declared that in God’s divine economy of love, not only did God care about those who were not Jews, sometimes God even seemed to favor them. There are, according to Jesus, no limits to God’s love and inclusion.

We tend to build borders around God’s love, rejecting those who do not fit our definition of God’s people. Who might those people be for us today? The religious conservatives? The liberals? Immigrants? The refugees? The homeless? The addict? The prisoner? Those of a particular race or color? Those of a certain religion or philosophy or lifestyle?

The thing is that every time we approach what we declare as the limits of God’s love, Jesus is ahead of us, tearing down walls, building bridges, and urging us to do the same. Jesus is always ahead of us, claiming those we place on the outside as ones that God embraces, loves, and lifts up.

I won’t lie - it can be tough to swallow Jesus’ claim that the divine blessing could possibly extend beyond our own kind, just as it was for the Jews in the synagogue that day.

Jesus also used stories to drive his point home, and that day he chose two that were not real popular among the isolationist crowd. First, he described how Elijah took care of the needs of a woman from the hated land of Sidon at the time when Hebrew women were starving.

The word of the Lord came to Elijah telling him to go to Zaraphath where he would meet a widow gathering sticks for a last meal before she and her child dies. Elijah ends up not only seeing that she had food for the rest of her life, but also brings her child back from the edge of death. Jesus drives the point home. This was a foreign woman in an age when foreign women were considered the curse of Israel.

Young preacher Jesus could have found a thousand other stories to use as illustrations for this sermon. But he wanted to make the point perfectly clear at the outset of his ministry: God’s love did not have national or ethnic boundaries, and it was that love he, Jesus, was sent to proclaim.

The second illustration was not much better. Quoting a story we find in 2 Kings, Jesus recalled how Elishah healed a man named Naaman, who happened to be an officer in the Syrian guard. Not only was the prophet helping foreigners, this particular foreigner was a member of an alien army!

God’s love for Sidonians and Syrians was not what the hometown crowd had come to hear, particularly since they could easily interpret “Romans” and “Samaritans” for Syrians and Sidonians. Instead of playing to their prejudices, Jesus claimed that God’s love was alive despite their prejudices.

We can imagine what this was like. Imagine your pastor at the height of the Cold War talking about how God has a preferential love for the Soviets and Cubans. Or, imagine that same pastor suggesting that God has a particular affection for the black activists that had just burned parts of the major cities of these United States during the racial wars of the sixties. Or, imagine your pastor suggesting today that we pray for the North Koreans, Muslims, the Iranians or even ISIS – or whomever YOU consider to be our enemy. Do we get the picture of what is going on here in the synagogue in Nazareth?

“They were filled with rage,” our text says, “and they got up, and drove him out of the town.” A church-going crowd suddenly became a lynch-mob. And Jesus learned that it is dangerous to talk about love to those whose lived feed on fear. It is risky business to describe how God’s affection extends toward those the audience despises.

And yet, my friends in Christ, the Gospel is clear. God’s love is always more pervasive, complete and powerful than our hatred or even the ways we define and limit grace.

Our nature wants to protect what we claim as ours and to reject what we don’t like or want to know. So often we project that onto God, making claims for God that exclude others. We want, by our very nature, to make the tent of God’s love an exclusive club. Jesus is telling us this day that God’s love is greater than we can even imagine.

How far is God’s love willing to go? All the way to the cross. And who is included in God’s circle of love? All whom God created.

Each week we confess that we are unclean, sinners in need of redemption. We believe that God’s forgiveness extends to us, sweeping us into God’s embrace. Jesus tells us that God’s arms, stretched out on the cross of Jesus, embrace even those we deem unworthy, even those we seek to reject.

The truth is that despite our sinfulness and the stubbornness of our prejudice, God loves us. The good news is that despite the walls we seek to build, God is already ahead of us in Jesus Christ, tearing them down and inviting us into something larger than ourselves. Jesus’ teaching in the synagogue that day is for us – both a reminder and an invitation to embrace the surprising truth of God’s love –unmerited love that claims us and unites us as one in the expansive, inclusive, Kingdom of God.

All images used by permission, Sweet Publishing/FreeBibleimages.org

Jesus and the Job Description

Luke 4.14-21

We are purpose – driven creatures. It has long been understood that people with a solid sense of purpose are generally healthier, happier, and more content in life. Knowing what our purpose, mission, or call is buoys our spirit, provides a focus for our energy and creates pathways for connections with others who have a similar sense of purpose.

Agnus Day lectionary strip

In our gospel lesson for the Third Sunday After Epiphany, the gospel text tells us that as he was attending synagogue in Nazareth, his hometown, Jesus was handed the Isaiah scroll and from it he read, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor.” Upon handing the scroll back to the attendant, our text continues, reporting that Jesus said to those gathered around in the synagogue, in the holiest of places, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

In this text, Jesus is a) once again, announcing and confirming that he is the Messiah, and b) announcing his central purpose in life and in ministry: to proclaim good news to the poor, etc. and c) proclaiming that the promised liberating work of the Spirit of God is now present in him.

We might argue whether “the poor” he was referring to were those who were starving, homeless, or destitute – the ones who are economically poor, in other words. Or, we might interpret the poor to mean those who are spiritually poor – those who have little understanding of the presence of God in their lives and the love that God holds for them. Perhaps “the poor” to us are all of the rest of those who live on the margins – the addict, those suffering from chronic or terminal illness, those who, because of race, gender, sexual identity, religion, nationality, ethnicity, age, IQ level, or you might have your own definition of who the “poor” are in our society and in our world.

We will discover in next week’s text, which is the continuation of this story, how the people reacted to what Jesus was saying. But for today, let us consider these questions:

1. 1
   
   .       Who do you think of when you hear “the poor?” Do you ever consider any of those (aside from the economically poor) listed above?
2. 2.       If you were to think more expansively, who might we add to a list of “the poor” – who do we overlook when we refer to those who are poor, in need of liberation or attention?
3. 3.       What is your understanding of the Christian mission or purpose?
4. 4.       How do you think Grace is living out her Christian mission, and what more do you think God is calling us to?
5. 5.       What is the good news for you and for me in this text?

In choosing this passage to read, Jesus is announcing his purpose may be summed up as prophet, Messiah, healer, liberator. In the gospel of Luke what we see Jesus doing over and over again is consciously working toward the fulfillment of the purpose he states here: to heal the brokenhearted and the blind, announce release to the prisoners, and reveal that God's compassionate, loving Spirit is loose in the world.

The big question for us is, What difference does this news make in our lives? What new sense of purpose does it give us? How does this text reflect on the Church’s mission and sense of purpose and how might it guide our actions, decisions, worship, prayer, and planning?

Let us each pray on these questions and seek the answers God has placed before us, and weighing how we might respond.

Lotteries, Abundance, and the Promises of God

John 2:1-11 Wedding at Cana

On Thursday it was announced that finally, for the first time since November, winning numbers had been drawn in the Power Ball lottery. At least three winners would split a record jackpot that had grown to something like $1.5 billion.

While for some the news brought great disappointment because their tickets were worthless, for many, the news came as a relief. Not because they had won anything, but because finally, life – and conversation - could return to “before the lottery” normalcy. Because, the truth is that there had been little else to talk about for the past couple of weeks. Right? I know that everywhere I went, it was all I heard about.

Never mind the state of the world, the growing crisis in the Chinese markets which were causing stocks around the world to tremble and fall, or the increasingly wild weather patterns around the world progressively pointing to the build-up of what is perhaps a record-breaking El Niño still strengthening and growing.

Never mind the plight of the homeless throughout the northern hemisphere where winter is bearing down in so many areas, or the refugee crisis that continues to grow. Never mind the growing sense of helplessness for so many who are feeling the pinch but not the solution to the failed health insurance situation.

Rather, in the days before the drawing, the Power Ball seemed to be on everybody’s mind. The possibility of larger-than-life winning jackpots became an obsession. Dreams and schemes developed. Everywhere you went you could overhear or enter into conversations about the big jackpot.

What would you do with the sudden windfall of hundreds of millions of dollars? How would your life change if you fell into such a fortune? Who would be the first person to contact you if word got out that you had won millions? Would you work or would you retire? Would you spend or would you save? How much of the winning money would make you content or fill your need and how much would you give away? In the spirit of full disclosure I admit that although I didn’t purchase a ticket myself, I did my own kind of dreaming, and lots of it ..what if??? It’s fun to dream, isn’t it?

Conversations I overheard or comments I read either fell into the camp of wishful thinking like mine, or judgment against this outlandish form of gambling. Then of course were the often-repeated statistics and cautionary tales of the large percentage of previous multi-million-dollar lottery winners who ultimately went bankrupt, whose lives were ruined, those who regretted ever buying that ticket.

On the day that the drawing took place, as the cumulative winnings for the Power Ball jackpot grew, there was a conversation that took place in the office here at church which reminded me of one of the basic laws of human behavior which I learned in college in my Economics 101 class – that is the principle (paraphrased) that just about the only things we as a people have in unlimited supply are needs and wants. Everything else has limits, which we interpret as scarcity. There is never enough to go around, never enough to fulfill all of our real and perceived needs or wants. As soon as you fulfill one want or need, another comes along to take its place – in unlimited supply – an endless laundry list of essentials. It is the way we are wired. It is part of our human nature.

What catches the imagination of those who dream and scheme about winning fantastic jackpots comes from our very human desire for abundance. We see the possibility of winning millions of dollars for the price of a single lottery ticket as the chance to suddenly have our existence transformed from one framed by scarcity that frustrates and sometimes scares us, to one overflowing with abundance, which we are sure will lead to happily-ever-after, where we will never want – for anything - again.

The gospel text this morning is also a story about scarcity and abundance. What happens at the Wedding at Cana is considered Jesus’ very first public miracle or sign. In the gospel of John, from which the story comes, every sign Jesus performs points to something deeper – they point to his true identity as the Messiah, and to his role as the one who brings into the world God’s very Word, Light and Life of grace which is abundant – in Christ, it is overflowing, in fact.

In this action of turning water into wine Jesus reveals himself to his disciples as God’s own sign and promise of life abundant, of dreams fulfilled. Jesus is the jackpot – the winning sign of God’s love and unmerited favor for God’s people, the very finest gift, appearing at the end of the ages. Jesus is the fulfillment of the hopes and dreams of Israel for a life full of good things and the promise of God fulfilled.

The text tells us that after this miracle at Cana, this sign that Jesus performed on behalf of the bridegroom, this miracle that took Jesus and the partygoers from the embarrassment and humiliation of scarcity to one awash in undeserved and overwhelming abundance, Jesus’ disciples believed in him. Did they know they had hit the lottery? With the coming of Jesus, their hopes and dreams for a new life framed by this abundance of God’s love and of promise fulfilled would be realized – but perhaps not the way they first dreamt and fantasized – at least not at first.

In this story that took place in an insignificant little town called Cana, not only did Jesus change water into wine but in so doing he transformed the host’s crisis of disgrace into a marvelous feast of generosity and joy; not only had he saved everyone there from a miserable and embarrassing end to this story, but he did so by giving the very finest of the fruits of the harvest – saved for the ultimate party – at the last - a reversal of the customs of the day.

In first century Palestine, at a wedding feast which went on at times for upwards of a week, the host would exhaust the stores of the very finest – and most expensive – wines first. Then with the vast majority of the guests sated and many deep in their cups anyway, the cheaper stuff might be pulled out and served. But at this party, God’s economy places the finest tasting wine last.

The narrative here is not simply the telling of a nice story with a happy ending – a fairytale in which the fairy godmother – or father - comes to the rescue, leaving us with the joy we long for. As is the case throughout the scriptures, this story is filled with symbolism relevant for the life of faith and pertinent to the community for whom it was first written as well as for us, still, today.

As Jesus enters the human story, the old religion as it is understood and practiced has grown stale and now fails to reflect the vast abundance of God’s love. I wonder if the same could be said for today?

The wideness of God’s hospitality and the vigor of religious life are gone. Many are left out and turned away from the goodness of the mercy, care and blessing of community as the poor and the powerless, the diseased and the disenfranchised are marginalized – set aside - ignored. God’s people are oppressed by the very institution that God declared should be a source of blessing. The good wine of God’s abundance seems to be exhausted.

Jesus, however, brings change to the old order. Jesus transforms what was old into something new. Jesus provides overflowing vats of wine – more than even a very large wedding party could possibly consume. He transforms the mediocre party into the finest of celebrations. Jesus transforms the scarcity into a blessing brimming with an abundance of the very finest, unprecedented kind. The quality of the wine is superb. It is unexpected. It is unearned. The finest most abundant and generous gift is given when it is least expected.

Frankly, it is sometimes difficult to speak of true abundance in a world where many suffer from poverty, want, disease, injustice, hunger, terror and war. It is difficult to speak at times about the goodness of God’s grace when the reality is that the true scarcity of our lives resides in the depth of our broken hearts, broken systems and broken relationships. It is difficult to think in terms of true universal abundance when there are still so many who are shut out.

But the story of transformative abundance as revealed in this gospel text points to an economy that is new and strange and wonderful. It doesn’t follow human paradigms of extravagant abundance. Rather, God’s measure of love and mercy and promise, present in Jesus, overflow the boundaries of human need. God’s abundance comes to us as grace that surrounds us and fills us with good things.

God saves the finest gift of all to last – where we receive grace upon grace – at the cross.

Abundance begins for each of us at our baptism, and we are reminded of it each time we meet together as we remember God’s revelation in human history within our worship and at the table where we taste and see the goodness of our God; when we celebrate the abundance of God’s grace in the forgiveness of sin. God’s grace is not only sufficient, but it is the jackpot – the undeserved, unmerited, unexpected goodness of life overflowing with good things.

The richest jackpot of our lives is the one not won by chance with the purchase of a ticket, but the one that is revealed to us through the coming of Jesus. May we share this gift with those God places on our path and in our community, that all may know the goodness of sweet wine, the depth of God’s love, and the wideness of God’s mercy. May our hospitality be reflective of the abundance of God’s grace. And may we be ever mindful of the enormous treasure we have received through the priceless gift of Jesus

Dreams and Expectations - What is the Possibility....?

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22; Isaiah 43:1-7

Baptism of Jesus

The refrain “Happy New Year” is still ringing in the air. For some of us, its echoes are likely stirring up the kinds of hopes and dreams that new beginnings seem to invite. What kinds of exciting new things will come your way this year? Perhaps this is the year you have decided to take that dream vacation. Perhaps you are filled with the anticipation of transitions with all the joys and challenges they bring.

You might be looking toward big changes that will take place later in the year – we have some young people anticipating leaving home for the first time, or continuing study in a new, untested environment; for you, perhaps retirement is in the wings. Perhaps there is the expectation of a move, or big, potentially life-altering decisions that need to be made, or the anticipation of new life with the addition of a new member of the family in the coming months.

For others, the anticipation of new things may bring fear. Perhaps there is hopelessness because you can’t imagine a new thing coming, or you are concerned or frightened about the changes the new year will bring to your life and to your loved ones. You may be expecting changes that will present challenges you are not sure you are equipped to handle, and a future you really don’t want to face right now.

Perhaps you are dealing with loss, and expectation just doesn’t seem to mean what it used to. Maybe you are looking out at the political landscape and the increasing polarization of society. As we face the uptick of the political cycle and an election year that promises, frankly, to be quite ugly, dread may be winning over hope in your heart at the start of this year. 

This is the reality into which God speaks through the scriptures this morning. God speaks to the people of old, but also speaks into this time and this place, and indeed, into this time of expectation – whatever that means to you today.

 It is a new year – we are only 10 days into 2016. In the secular world, the new year traditionally signals a time ripe with fresh starts and new opportunities, including the chance to begin a new course of healthy living, or to engage in an activity too long ignored or set aside.

Here in the church we begin this new year of 2016 as we begin each new calendar year, in the season of Epiphany – a season framed by the revelation of Christ as the Son of God, the Messiah, the long-awaited one. It is the season of new light, of opening our eyes and our minds and our hearts to fresh understandings about who God is, what God is doing, and the lengths to which God will go to break down the barrier between heaven and earth and to remove the age-old separation between God and God’s creation.

God’s love, God’s mercy, and God’s unmerited favor to us, that thing we call “grace,” are at the core of God’s action and God’s revelation in this epiphany.

And so, on this Sunday, the first Sunday after the Epiphany of Christ that was heralded by a guiding star and the magi, these words begin our gospel reading: “As the people were filled with expectation…”

The reading goes on that to explain that the thing the people are really wondering about is John the Baptist, the one who has gathered quite a following. He has been baptizing people, has been preaching the word and urging the people’s repentance. John the Baptist has been going around exclaiming that soon and very soon, God would reveal Godself in one sent by God as the awaited, promised, anointed one – the Messiah.

John has been talking to those who gather around him about the advent of God’s mercy and salvation, and they are wondering, with great expectation perhaps, or maybe even with a sense of trepidation, about John himself and whether he might be the Messiah. Perhaps they wonder if John will soon reveal himself to be the one that God in fact has promised and sent.

You see, the people Israel have been existing in this state of expectation for a long time. Their lives are hard. The political landscape that surrounds and envelops them is as ugly as it is frightening and oppressive. They expect deliverance. They expect God to save them. God has promised it and so they wait in varying degrees of hope and anticipation for God’s coming to be revealed, bringing with it a liberating sigh.

The expectation of their deliverance reaches as far back as hundreds of years, and it reaches into a future that is yet to unfold, a future that they have been praying for, hoping for, and looking for. Their expectation is based on God’s promise. Near the end of the captivity and exile of the people of Israel in Babylon, where they languished for more than a generation persecuted, oppressed, and burdened, God promised to bring them home, promised to bring them freedom and relief.

Now, hundreds of years later, again oppressed, again persecuted, again burdened and hoping against hope for God to save them, these words from God, spoken through the prophet Isaiah, seem to speak to them out of the past and into their present, offering the balm of hope.

 “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine,” comes God’s word. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume. For I am the LORD your God, the holy One of Israel, your Savior.” This is God’s signature of supremacy and might. “I am the LORD your God, the holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

The people who surround John have been filled with expectation and anticipation, and hope and longing for as long as they can remember. They have been filled with hope that the promised Messiah would come and that through him God would do something amazing, fabulous, and everlasting - for them.

Their sense of longing has been building and building, filling them with the expectation that God will answer their prayer. In recent times, the rhetoric of John the Baptist has not only caught their attention but has led to a heightening of their sense of anticipation for the coming of the Lord.

Finally, in this gospel lesson in which it is reported that Jesus has been baptized, as he was praying, the heaven was opened. The Holy Spirit descended. A voice came from heaven, announcing Jesus as God’s divine representative. “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

At this holy baptism, the realm of God is announced, a realm where “new life” means love, peace, justice, mutual support, freedom, and dignity hold sway over the complicity of the old age of sin and rebellion. In this text, we are reminded that that which separates us from God is no longer. In Jesus, God enters the world – God is no longer up, behind the firmament, up in the clouds, far, far away from us and from our struggles, rather, God is here, now, among us.

At the beginning of our worship today we remembered the gift of our own baptism. We remembered God’s promises to us. The reason we frequently have this intentional remembrance of the gift of our own baptism, through the reading of scripture, prayer and the sprinkling of water, is that every baptism is an epiphany kind of moment.

It is a moment when the heavens and the earth meet in determined solidarity, and then open, reminding us of God’s promises of everlasting love, grace and forgiveness for us all.

It is the promise that because Jesus lives, we can live too. Not just exist. Not just rest, mired in our own complacency, but we can really and truly live.

Jesus joins with us in our baptism, showing us the way. Jesus baptizes with the Holy Spirit and with fire – the fire of a love so strong that it transforms us into the living breathing children of God for whom God opened the heavens.

God’s claim on us at baptism is for a lifetime. It fills us with holy expectation. It anticipates for us the words we long to hear, regardless of our circumstance, regardless of what we might hope for or dread for the coming year:

Do not fear

          For I have redeemed you

                   I have called you by name

                             You are mine.

When you pass through the waters,

          I will be with you;

                   And through the rivers,

                             They shall not overwhelm you;

When you walk through fire you shall not be burned,

          And the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the LORD your God,

          The Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

Do not fear, for I am with you;                        

Karoline Lewis writes, “Baptism is about promise – the promise of God’s love and God’s grace, God’s protection and provision, and the comfort of God’s community. But Jesus’ baptism reminds us that baptism is also an epiphany, and what God chooses to reveal about God’s self is not always seen in white gowns and water. The season of Epiphany….brings us closer to the fact that God will also be seen in rejection and suffering, death and denial, pain and injustice.”

At our baptism God tears the heavens open, pushes through the firmament and claims us. “You are mine.” “You are beloved.” “My grace is sufficient for you.” “I will never leave you or forsake you.”

Emboldened by this claim and promise, let us go forth, washed and empowered through the Holy Spirit’s transforming grace, power, and through prayer, to face the new year with all of its joys and challenges, living as though we believe God’s word, “For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. Do not fear, I am with you. You are mine.”