Fourth Sunday of Advent - December 23

The Prophet Mary
Luke 1:39-45

Some of you may remember that Diocesan Convention this fall was all about “fierce” conversations. I didn’t go to the workshop on fierce conversations, but I did hear the keynote speaker. In this context “fierce” is considered a good thing. Basically, it seems to refer to communication that is open, honest, courageous. In a different time and place, rather than encouraging fierce conversations, we might have said: “Get real.” “Don’t beat around the bush.” “Tell it like it is.”

The people who talk about fierce conversations, describe them as having these qualities:
They interrogate reality.
Provoke learning.
Tackle tough challenges.
Enrich relationships.

That sounds to me like the job description for a prophet. We hear a lot from the prophets during Advent. They definitely lay bare the reality of their day, often naming the people’s faithlessness. They vigorously provoke learning about God’s purpose. They speak in challenging times and situations. And yet, all that the prophets do is ultimately with the hope and purpose of enriching peoples’ relationships with God.

The prophetic voices of Advent often seem to be foretelling the future, and part of what Advent is about is looking forward. But really the prophets speak to their present. They say: this is what God is like. This is what God intends. This is where God’s desire meets your reality.

Jeremiah says: a righteous branch shall spring up for David. He shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. Our God is a God of righteousness and judgment.

Malachi: He is like a refiner’s fire and fuller’s soap; he will purify the descendents of Levi until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness.

Zephaniah: The Lord, your God is in your midst.

Micah: He shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord.

And finally, one more prophetic voice: “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” Yes, Mary stand squarely in this line of Old Testament prophets.

Writing in 1891, not exactly a time of rampant feminism, B. W. Johnson wrote: Elizabeth and Mary are the first two human prophets of the New Testament. (I guess maybe they were preceded by the non-human, angelic Gabriel.)

In the Gospel today, we heard Mary’s prophetic song, the magnificat. I can’t help but ponder how differently we might perceive these words if they had been said by a male voice.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant. 
From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has doe great things for me, and holy is his Name. 
He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation. 
He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit. 
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. 
He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, for he has remembered his promise of mercy, 
The promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children for ever. 

We think of Mary in many ways. Young. Humble. “Mother Mary meek and mild.” Obviously many mothering images are associated with her. Although anyone who knows anything about mothering knows that being a mother means much more than being meek and mild. She must have been strong. And certainly faithful. Over the centuries in Catholic piety she has been seen as intercessor and guide. Mary, pray for us.

I think over the years I have seen the magnificat primarily as a song of praise. A wonderful unrestrained song of praise. Mary’s words of praise. And certainly the first few lines fit that perspective. But, overall, reading and hearing the magnificat as a whole, it fits right into this prophetic tradition. It’s mostly about God. A fierce, prophetic proclamation of God’s perspective. God’s promise. This is God’s vision for reality! Mary proclaims. God brings down the powerful from their thrones. God comes to the lowly and does great things for them God scatters the proud, but feeds the hungry. For those who are faithful, God’s strength is shown in mercy.

Mary not only foretells Jesus’ coming, even more importantly she proclaims who Jesus is. Who God is. In a sense she is prophetically laying out of Jesus’ mission statement.

Writing about Jeremiah’s prophecy, Melinda Quivik states: The prophet is the one who holds out a vision for us to cling to especially when we cannot grasp the meaning. Mary gives us a vision to cling to even in times when its fulfillment may be difficult for us to envision or grasp. Mary, majestically and prophetically, tells us who this child will be and how he will bring God’s purpose into our world.

Our God is one…
Who has no patience with the powerful and proud.
Whose strength is expressed in mercy for those who revere him.
Who lifts up the lowly and feeds the hungry.

This is the God of the ancient prophets.
This is the God born a baby in the manger.
This is the God of our own time.

Our God is one who comes to lift up the lowly and feed the hungry, both literally and metaphorically.

To all who are hungry for lack of food or whose souls are starved for hope and peace. To all who are lowly, trampled down or marginalized by this world or brought low by anxiety, confusion or fatigue. To all who are hungry or lowly, God comes to you. This is Mary’s prophecy.

Third Sunday of Advent - Decmeber 16

Rejoice, You Brood of Vipers
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18

On this Third Sunday of Advent, as we look forward to Christmas, we are still in the wilderness with John the Baptist. John, of course, is one of the main figures of Advent. John, who helped prepare the way for Jesus’ coming.

On the whole, John the Baptist seems to have been a glass half empty sort of guy.

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Repent!

If he had been more of a glass half full sort of guy, he might have said, “Rejoice, you brood of vipers, your salvation is drawing near.” Rejoice, you brood of vipers.

The other readings appointed for this Sunday are full of rejoicing. Rejoice in the Lord always, Paul says to the Philippians. And Zephaniah, not necessarily known for his cheerful disposition, can hardly contain himself: “Sing aloud O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem.”

Rejoice, you brood of vipers. The people John is calling vipers are people who had come to him for baptism! It’s a mixed group. Crowds of people coming out from Jerusalem to the wilderness… Matthew’s account suggests Pharisees and Sadducees were among them, the religious elite of the day. Luke mentions soldiers and tax collectors, the social scum of that day. I tend to smile at John’s hyperbole… brood of vipers. But I imagine he was pretty serious. John say all of the people gathered were, in the words of today’s collect, “sorely hindered by their sins.”

And to those sinners, he says, do not flee. John perceives the people trying to escape judgment by fleeing. The image he has is of snakes or other wildlife trying to flee from a spreading wildfire.  The fire of judgment.  And he says, you cannot escape judgment by fleeing. It’s a futile effort. Impossible. Neither can you expect a pass on judgment just because you have Abraham for an ancestor. Your only hope is repentance. Repent, because there is forgiveness. Repentance is not a solution to sin in and of itself. The reason to repent is because God forgives.

And that is something to rejoice about. Rejoice, God will forgive. Even you. You brood of vipers. Our repentance and God’s forgiveness lead to a new world. Zephaniah is talking about that world on the other side of God’s forgiveness. The Lord has taken away the judgments against you. The Lord is in your midst. He will renew you in his love.

John preached repentance, but promised forgiveness. The Greek word translated repentance is metanoia. Metanoia, which means a course correction. In addition to an acknowledgement of regret for past sins, metanoia carries with it the promise of a new and better path. Rejoice, on the other side of repentance is forgiveness. Renewal in God’s love.

The horrible shooting Friday in Newtown, Connecticut, is before us all today. Over the course of the day on Friday as I heard more about the tragedy, I was reminded of this prayer. It’s in the Rite 1 burial service in the Book of Common Prayer.

"Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting. Amen."

Help us to believe in the forgiveness of sins. John the Baptist brings the promise of God’s forgiveness of sins. Help us to believe and trust in the proclamation that John brings of forgiveness. The communion or fellowship of saints and the resurrection to life everlasting are things we come to understand after John, from Jesus.

In this wilderness in which we still find ourselves, in the midst of things we cannot understand, stir up your power O Lord, and help us. Help us to believe and trust and even rejoice in the promise that John brings of forgiveness, the promise that God will be with us and renew us in his love. And help us, too, beyond John’s proclamation, to believe and trust and even rejoice the communion of saints and in the resurrection hope made known to us through the one whose coming John foretold, Jesus.

You brood of vipers, rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.

Second Sunday of Advent - December 9

More Powerful than the G8 

Hope to get caught up soon. Please check back.

First Sunday of Advent - December 2

Looking Forward to the Second Coming

Hope to get caught up soon.  Please check back.

Last Sunday after Pentecost - November 25

The Kingdom Yet to Come
Revelation 1:4b-8
John 18:33-37

When I was a student in seminary I was accused once of having a “realized eschatology.” There are undoubtedly worse taunts that are hurled about on the seminary playground… accusations of Pelagianism or other heresies. But it was a theology professor who commented on my “realized eschatology,” and it was said with a note of kindly criticism, suggesting that I might do well to explore a fuller or more balanced doctrine of eschatology.

To explain: Eschatology is that branch of theology that describes “last things.” The eschaton is the “final event in the divine plan. The end of the world.” The ultimately fulfillment of God’s plan. It is more than just an end; it is a completion, a fulfillment. The coming of God’s kingdom. Eschatology studies these subjects.

A realized eschatology holds that much of that divine plan is made real now… that we experience at least a significant portion of God’s plan now, here, in this world, in our daily lives. The kingdom is realized in our lives. We do not have to wait until the end of time to experience God’s fulfillment.

Today I want to try to express a more balanced view of eschatology. I want to talk about the kingdom that is yet to come. And maybe Professor Charlie Price, who now dwells in that kingdom beyond, will smile a bit.

The readings for this Last Sunday after Pentecost place the issues of eschatology and the Kingdom of God before us. The readings talk a lot about kings, earthly kings and heavenly kings. And, although it is not an official commemoration on the Episcopal calendar, today is informally known as Christ the King Sunday. We consider what it means to name Christ as King.

During his earthly ministry, Jesus does not seem to have described himself as the Messianic king. He clearly did not see himself as the political king many Jews at the time expected the Messiah to be. But Jesus does talk a lot about the kingdom, Gods kingdom. And Jesus says the kingdom is drawing near.

The kingdom drew near as Jesus drew near. As God incarnate, the kingdom dwelt within Jesus. He bore the kingdom within him. And as we, and others, draw near to Jesus we glimpse the kingdom through him. The kingdom is realized in our lives as we bring Jesus into our lives.

To go completely off script, I wonder if we see and know the Kingdom sort of like Bali Hai. This illustration will only work for those of you who know South Pacific.

Bali Ha'i may call you, Any night, any day,
In your heart, you'll hear it call you:
"Come away...Come away."

Bali Ha'i will whisper In the wind of the sea:
If you try, you'll find me
Where the sky meets the sea.

Someday you'll see me floatin' in the sunshine,
You'll hear me call you….

If you try, you'll find me
Where the sky meets the sea. 

You will hear. You will see. In your heart you will know. If you try, you will find me. In a way, we know the kingdom second hand if we know Jesus, and that is wondrous.

 But to know the kingdom first hand, to realize it, to experience it fully in our own lives, that is yet to come.

 The readings for today speak of God’s kingdom as beyond this world, beyond even time. Jesus says to Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world.” And the Revelation readings refers to the Alpha and the Omega, the one who is and who was and who is to come… who is beyond time.

 If I asked you to describe God’s kingdom, what would you say? What do you think the Kingdom of God is like?

I read that across the ages, Christians have tended to describe the Kingdom through what they perceived as its antithesis in their own day… The kingdom is a place without slavery. The Kingdom is a place without poverty or hunger. The kingdom is a place without the dehumanizing power of multinational corporations. The kingdom is a place without war.

We have wonderful images of the kingdom from Scripture. The peaceable kingdom where, improbably and impossibly, the lion lies down with the lamb. There are Jesus’ kingdom parables. The sower, where the kingdom is a place that nurtures health and growth. The pearl of great price, where somehow the kingdom brings value into life. The mustard seed where the kingdom is a place of safety and inclusion.

Today’s collect reminds us that in the kingdom we are free from sin and all barriers that separate us are dissolved into reconciliation. So is the kingdom doable on earth? Can we as human beings achieve any of these manifestations of the kingdom? Even with God’s help, can we bring the kingdom near?

As Christians have thought about God’s kingdom there has always been a tension between the now and not yet. Between a yearning for the kingdom present now, and a vision of it yet to come.

Luther described the kingdom yet to come as the realm of divine grace. A place where everything (everything!) is suffused and governed by divine grace.

Those with a more realized eschatology have described the kingdom as a realm of ideal human relations. This world, perfected. And Christians have felt called to work to make that kingdom real, to do “kingdom work.” To work for social justice and the dignity of every person. Our baptismal covenant calls us to do this work as much as we are able.

But. But in the face of our repeated failure and despair to bring the kingdom fruition on earth; in the face of profound disagreements among Christians about what constitutes “kingdom work;” in the face of our inevitable slavery to selfishness, violence, and laziness… In the face of our inability to make God’s kingdom real, it is very good to remember Luther. To remember that the realm of divine grace is real. To remember that God’s kingdom yet to come, God’s kingdom brought to fullness and fruition by God, is absolutely real and lies ahead.

So maybe a balanced eschatology goes something like this: I am grateful for partial manifestations of God’s kingdom that are realized in this world, in my time. I am grateful for the glimpses I see that bring hope and assurance and renewed commitment to do kingdom work as best I’m able.

But, thanks and praise to God, this is not all there is. Let us joyfully and humbly remember that the fulfillment of Christ’s reign, promised to us, is better than all this. Better than this world around us. Even if we could fix everything in this world, the Kingdom of God is so much better than this. The glory of God’s hope for us, the glory of God’s plan for us, is so beyond our imagining, so beyond anything we could possibly create… The kingdom of glory not yet realized in our midst lies ahead.

Thanksgiving

Five Stages of Thankfulness 

At least in the era of modern psychology, it seems like everything is described in “stages.” There are the well-known five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. The psychologist Erik Erikson described human life as unfolding in stages of psychosocial development. They have fairly prosaic names like adolescence or middle adulthood. I was a bit interested to read that the defining conflict for middle adulthood, my current stage, is the conflict between generativity and stagnation.

If you google development stage theories, you’ll find listing of lots of other stages… stages of moral development, stages of spiritual development. There seems to be a development stage theory for everything in life.

 I am not an expert, but I think it’s accurate to say that all of these development stage theories are progressive. Human beings are perceived to progress, in order, from less mature or developed stages towards stages of greater maturity and sophistication. I imagine sometimes we get stuck or even backtrack a bit, but overall it’s a good thing to progress to higher and higher stages.

In this spirit of development stage theories, today I propose the five stages of thankfulness. It may be that some psychologist has written a dissertation on this or maybe there are a whole host of books on it, but I’m not aware of them. So these are my own, unscientifically constructed… Kristin’s five stages of thankfulness.

ONE. Stage one I call clueless. Clueless at least in the thankfulness department. Characterized by a sense of entitlement. What I have is mine. I deserve it. I have it. It’s mine.

TWO. Stage two is gratitude. I am grateful for what I have. It is conceivable that I might not have it. Perhaps I am aware of others who don’t have what I have and I am grateful. It seems to me that this stage is the primary focus of the thanksgiving holiday. To remind us to be grateful for what we have, to not take things for granted. Awakening gratitude is an important task. And, on the whole, I think most of us do pretty well. We are grateful.

THREE. Stage three takes gratitude one step further to what I call donor appreciation. Not only am I grateful for what I have, I am aware that someone gave me what I have and I am grateful to that donor. For example, not only am I grateful for the opportunities and freedoms I enjoy in this country, I am grateful to the wise and courageous founding fathers, who, in order to form a more perfect union, established this government and I grateful to soldiers and judges and citizens who preserve it. As Christians, aware of life’s blessings, we name God at this stage. We thank God for bestowing blessings upon us.

From clueless entitlement to an awareness of gratitude to thanksgiving for those who gifted us with good. Progress in the stages of thankfulness. It’s easy to stop at this point. But I have two more important stages of thankfulness. They both involve a response. A response from us.

FOUR. Stage four is giving thanks, expressing thanksgiving, returning thanks. Not just being thankful that you have a kind grandmother who gave you a really fabulous birthday present, but writing her a thank you note. Taking the time, the effort, the initiative to say thank you. Express thanksgiving. Offer prayer and praise to God in thanksgiving. Give voice to our thankfulness.

FIVE. Stage five is sharing. Sharing out of gratitude for what you have. And if you have anything to be thankful for, you have something to share. Not just giving out of a sense of obligation or responsibility or to meet a need, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I’m thinking of sharing just for the sake of sharing. Because we can. Because we’re grateful. Because it’s a joyous way to participate in God’s own limitless generosity. Sharing seems to be the most spiritually mature, sophisticated stage of thankfulness. The stage that brings us closest to God. What are you thankful for? Warmth, love, creativity, friends, freedom, material abundance? All of these can be shared. Shared just out of joyful thankfulness that bubbles up and out into the world. Sharing as an expression of thankfulness.

Five stages of thankfulness. Stage one, a clueless absence, really, of thankfulness. Then gratitude, then an awareness of the donors and protectors of our gifts. And finally, our response. Expressing thanks, and ultimately, without reservation, in thanksgiving, sharing what we have been given with others.

May you know and share God’s blessings this Thanksgiving.

The Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost - November 11

For People Like Us
Mark 12:38-44

The Gospel passage we heard this morning is relatively familiar. It’s the source of our English phrase, “a widow’s mite.” Jesus’ message seems pretty clear.

First, Jesus harshly condemns the scribes… those who use religious practice to make themselves feel good and look good. Long prayers and opulent robes are all about drawing attention to themselves, improving their status and wealth. They even devour widow’s houses for their own gain.

Moving on from his condemnation of the self-serving scribes, Jesus takes a seat in te treasury. The temple treasury. Evidently, many rich people put in lots of money. One commentary I read noted that they were probably tithing according to a complicated formula from an established tradition with significant deductions. Publicly meeting their pro forma obligation. Evidently there were a set of donations chests in the temple marked with the purpose for which the money would be used. So the donors could “control” or earmark their donations. In this passage, Jesus doesn’t actually condemn the rich donors, although he seems totally unimpressed.

In contrast, he lifts up the poor widow who puts in her two small copper coins, worth only a penny, but they are all she had to live on. Not all she could spare. Not all she had in her pocket that day. All she had to live on. And as a widow, she most likely did not have access to financial reserves or the ability to earn more.

Jesus commends her. It seems pretty clear. It’s funny, though, how we are able to ignore or rationalize our way around this passage.

As I was reading a bit about this passage this week, I discovered some interesting insights which provide an additional way to interpret what Jesus is saying. Not to disregard the familiar interpretation, but an additional message that Jesus may be conveying.

First: In Mark’s Gospel Jesus’ comments about the poor widow are the last thing he says in his public ministry before, pardon the phrase, all hell breaks loose. After this there are some apocalyptic pronouncements about the destruction of the temple and then the events of his passion. This is his last “normal” interaction with the people and his disciples. This is what the disciples are left with just as events begin to propel Jesus towards his crucifixion.

Second: Maybe this passage isn’t meant so much to answer the question: What are we supposed to do with our money? Maybe it’s meant to answer the question: Who is Jesus? Or who is the Messiah?

The Gospel passage we heard today begins a few verses earlier in Mark 12:35. Jesus begins teaching in the temple and he asks: “How can the scribes say that the Messiah is the son of David... When David himself calls him Lord?” Who is the Messiah? A literal son of David or something more? Lord of all.

So the passage we heard could be interpreted as a further exploration of the question, Who is the Messiah?

The Messiah certainly is not about fancy robes or long prayers just for show. He is not a puppet of the religious establishment, one who will fulfill the expectations or meet the needs of the Pharisees and scribes.

And then there is the poor widow. Who gives all she has to live on. And she gives it, think about it, to the temple! She gives all she has to the very people who are devouring the houses of widows. She gives her livelihood to people who are corrupt, self-serving, and hypocritical. It seems a reckless gift, sad and misguided. Yet Jesus lifts her up for all to see.

Perhaps this passage is an overture to Jesus’ passion. Like a traditional overture it introduces themes that will become even more important as the story unfolds. The widow’s gift foreshadows the one Jesus is about to make.

Can you see Jesus in this poor widow? Can you see her as a type for the Messiah? Jesus gives us this image to ponder. Can you see this poor widow on the cross? She gave up all she had to live on, her very life, on behalf of people who, at their best are indifferent to her. She gave all she had for people who, at their worst, devoured her for their own benefit. She gave up her life for selfish, corrupt, hypocritical scribes. People who surely did not deserve her gift and who would not use it well.

Apparently without any reservation she gave her life for people like us.