Sermon from Sunday

Here's my sermon from Sunday. I'll do some reflecting on it later today.

Mark 1:1-8

            Preparing for Christmas when I was a child involved a lot of work. There was the tree to put up, the cookies to make, the house to decorate, and, of course, the presents to buy. And since Grandma came to visit every year at Christmastime, we had to wait to start most of these preparations until she came to our house. Sometimes, this was early in the month of December, but sometimes it seemed we had to wait until Christmas was almost past to get ready. Then came all the work, and with it, all the arguments. “Don’t put the same kind of ornament so close together!” “Mom, Jessica got to decorate more cookies than me!” “Mom, Josiah is trying to hang up my ornaments!” Without fail, something would go wrong: the string of lights would be a ball of knots, the cookies would burn or not cook all the way, or we would be missing a whole box of decorations. But somehow, it always got done, and Christmas visited the Matlack house for another year.

            In the Gospel lesson today, we hear about a very different way to prepare for Christ’s coming. John the Baptist was a weird guy. In a time when poverty was rampant, he chose to live outside of society, where at least the poor could beg for alms. He went out to the wilderness, to sleep on the ground, eat bugs and honey when he could find them, and wear strange clothes.

            The Christian band, DC Talk, has a song called “Jesus Freak,” that talks about John:

There was a man from the desert with naps in his head

The sand that he walked was also his bed.

The words that he spoke made the people assume

There wasn’t too much left in the upper room.

With skins on his back and hair on his face,

They thought he was strange by the locusts he ate.

This song talks about the original “Jesus freak,” a man who went out and did some very strange things just to prepare the way of the Lord. He didn’t care what people thought of him, and he didn’t give up his faith even in the face of death. Supposedly, John was following the command from Isaiah as a messenger of God: he was living out in the wilderness, preparing the way of the Lord. But what good did this do? Who knew that Jesus was the one John talked about? Who helped John to “make his paths straight?” Was anyone truly prepared for the coming of the Lord?           

            Did John’s disciples go home and put up a tree, nativity scenes, and tinsel? Did they cook a huge meal and give each other presents? How could they possibly prepare for the Lord’s coming?

            The Messiah was supposed to be a king, someone who would save the people of Israel, the Jews. They expected him to come riding in on a warhorse, ready to rescue them from their oppressors, the Romans. A king would have been preceded by a royal messenger, someone wearing nice robes, eating rich foods, and making room for the king. They expected a celebration, a clear indication that the Messiah had come and was going to rescue them. The only preparations necessary would have been done with excitement, and the anticipation of a new way of life.

            Yet this isn’t what the Israelites get. Starting with John’s pronouncement, something seems to be off. John is in the wilderness, not running or riding through the streets, proclaiming the coming of the Messiah. John is baptizing people as they repent of their sins, not helping them get ready for the inevitable victory over the Romans. John is wearing camel’s hair and a leather belt, not majestic clothing. And he eats locusts and wild honey, not the rich food of kings.

            Good, studious Jews should have known that this was what they were to expect. God announced in Isaiah that this is exactly what God’s messenger would be like. But we very rarely want to recognize that what we’ve been told is how it will be. We like to think about the perfect, clean, holy nativity scene. We like to prepare for that Jesus—the one that makes sense to us, the one that’s easy to take. Preparing for the perfect nativity, complete with the silent, beautiful baby Jesus means putting up our Christmas trees, decorating the house inside and out, buying presents for our friends and family, cooking a big meal and spending Christmas Day hanging out watching football.

            But is this really how we prepare for Jesus’ coming? Because Christmas isn’t just about some distant time when Jesus was born as a baby. Christmas is also the time for us to anticipate Jesus’ return. Jesus has promised that he will return again, and that his coming will be, well…interesting. Peter says, “[T]he day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed.” I’m not sure my Christmas tree is going to survive that!

            So if all of our preparations for Jesus coming revolve around the one day—and maybe a few after—when we celebrate his birth, how will we possibly be ready for the day of the Lord? Jesus doesn’t want our presents, and I really doubt he cares if the lights on our house are symmetrical, burnt out, or timed to music. Jesus cares about what we are doing now to bring the Kingdom of God ever closer. Peter tells us that we should “strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation.” I don’t know about you, but I haven’t seen a lot of peace or contentment with God in this Christmas season.

            Yet God constantly and consistently empowers us to prepare the way for Christ’s coming, not just during the Christmas season but all year, every year. We can see this in the power of John the Baptist’s message to his people. Even though he was different, even though he lived in the wilderness and acted in strange ways, God gave him the authority to prepare the way for Christ’s coming. And people did know when Jesus came that he was the one about whom John had spoken. They were prepared in a different way than we might expect: they had repented of their sins and were baptized by John in the Jordan River. There was no great ceremony about it, and John constantly reminded them that he was not the one for whom they were waiting. He was just the path-maker. Through John’s faith, God was able to create a way for Jesus to break into the world. And people knew when it happened.

            Just like God sent John to prepare his community for Christ’s coming, God sends us and gives us Scripture to prepare for Christ as well. In the Psalm today, we see a beautiful description of what will happen on the day of the Lord:

Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him,

            that his glory may dwell in our land.

Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet;

            righteousness and peace will kiss each other.

Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,

            and righteousness will look down from the sky.

Christ’s return will be wonderful. Everything will be restored to the way it should be, the way God intended. War and famine, pain and grief, racism and sexism, abuse and neglect, all of this will be wiped away. What a wonderful future we have with Christ.

            Yet preparing the way means more than waiting around expectantly for Christ to come and fix everything. We learn from Jesus’ life that simply talking about how things will be one day is not the solution. Jesus actively sought out the poor, lonely, hurt, and sick to help them. Every step of his journey meant changing someone’s life for the better. No, he didn’t single handedly fly in like some superhero and defeat the Romans. That was not the point of Jesus coming into the world like us. We can’t change everything by snapping our fingers. But we can help our neighbor who doesn’t have enough money to eat three meals a day. We can sit down and listen to our coworker whose life isn’t going the way she planned. We can love our families, forgive those who trespass against us, and do our best to spread Christ’s love throughout the world.

            Perhaps this is what Isaiah is saying when he talks about leveling mountains, bringing up valleys, and straightening crooked paths. It’s not about changing the natural landscape around us. It’s about bringing justice to the world, bringing up those who are low, sharing ourselves so that we are not “better” than someone else, and making the path a little bit easier for our neighbor. God empowers us to do this through the many gifts with which God blesses each of us. We are called to prepare the way of the Lord in this messy, restless, and sometimes scary world. If this means being weird, so be it. If this means acting against the status quo, that’s just where we need to be. The good news is that, even in these frightening situations, God will walk alongside us and give us the strength to make his paths straight.

            In just a few minutes, we’re going to say the Lord’s Prayer as we prepare for Communion. In the prayer, we say, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” This is what it means to prepare the way of the Lord. When we pray this, we are saying that we will abandon our own wills, our own desires, and give them over to God’s purposes. God’s will is already done in heaven. It is up to us to start doing God’s will on earth; we are asking God to continue to empower us to do this work. That’s part of the preparation we do for Christ’s coming—changing the world for the better.

            Preparing for Jesus isn’t a one-time thing. We can’t just set up the tree, hang the decorations, and wait. Jesus didn’t come into the world as a helpless tiny baby in order to stay that way forever. He came to grow, to teach, and to lead. He didn’t die so that we could be content in our own salvation and supposedly ready for his return. He came so that all might know the amazing love of God through Jesus Christ. He didn’t come so we could sit back complacently, but to empower us to share the Gospel news with all people: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. Amen.

The Coming

This week everything was back to normal at the church. Linda and I had a great meeting last week about the next few weeks--the last few of this semester! Already! I can't believe that this semester is wrapping up.

My mom and Chris were here this week, and it was interesting to notice how different things are for me when someone I know is watching. Of course, I know most of the people every Sunday when I get up there and lead the prayers, read the readings, or sing the Psalm, etc. Yet knowing Mom and Chris were there changed things ever so slightly. As much as I want Mom to be able to see me storytell and preach next week, I am also kind of glad that there is not that added pressure. I also managed to pick a Sunday to preach when Josiah won't be here yet, so hopefully that will lessen my fears as I go up to preach next Sunday.

We also had three baptisms this morning at the early service. There was a baby, and then a 5 and 7 year old set of siblings. I haven't seen many multiple-baptism services before, so this was especially powerful. Although the baby cried a little (most do, unless they're asleep), the two older kids were absolutely wonderful to watch. Linda didn't hold back on the water, and they were both dripping by the time they were done. It was a really moving experience to see how older children react to the beautiful miracle that is baptism, and I hope I get to see more of these.

I really enjoyed Linda's sermon this week, as well. She spoke about what Advent is, rather than what it is not (i.e. Christmas). She did a good job of explaining the church year, what the purpose of Advent is, and how we can truly celebrate Advent. I'm excited, because I'm preaching next week and I think our sermons mesh pretty well. I think we're trying to get a pretty similar message across, but in a very different way and extremely different texts. I spent a lot of this week enjoying the beginning of Advent, but also thinking about what next week is going to hold. I'm pretty nervous, but we'll see!

All by Myself...Sort of

This past Sunday was Linda's first day off since I started working at the churches. We had a Princeton doctoral student come preach and do Communion. Linda put me in charge of making sure everything ran smoothly, and some of her normal tasks, like doing the announcements at the beginning of the service.

I did a pretty good job of letting Anthony where to go and when. I gave him a bulletin with all of his parts highlighted and directions about where he should be at each point during the service. I completely forgot, however, to tell him how we do Communion at St. Mark, and had to explain it to him as we were supposed to be having Communion. Fortunately, it all worked out, and the second service ran a lot smoother.

Being there "alone" definitely gave me a whole different perspective on things. Sure, I pay attention through both services each week, but that doesn't mean that I still don't miss some of the "details." For example, I knew that Linda always goes to set up Communion at some point before that portion of the liturgy actually starts. But I forgot where it was, and the Communion assistant didn't cue us, either. Now I know, and I'll never forget, that she sets it up during offering. I also had to ask a lot of questions of people: how to adjust the temperature so we weren't melting, how/when to serve Communion to the choir, and probably a lot more I can't think of right now.

I was also amazed by how much people were willing to ask of me. I'm still pretty new at St. Mark and I have absolutely zero authority over anything. Yet someone asked why I wasn't preaching. Someone else asked what they were supposed to do about something that was going on that day. The acolytes listened when I told them about the special candles that were out this week. It's weird for me to be back in that position. I knew where everything was and how everything worked at the church my dad started, and what I didn't know, I could find out with ease. Things were pretty similar at college after the first year. But here I am, in a position of supposed authority, and I don't know half of what's going on. It's definitely a humbling experience, and one I hope carries over into my first call, where I'll be learning the ropes of a new church, a new job, and a new life.

Praise God for humbling moments, and thank God for learning.

Stewardship

This month at St. Mark, like at many Lutheran churches throughout the US, is stewardship month. We're nearing the end of the church and calendar year, and it's time to make pledges, create a budget, and pray that everything works out next year.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, stewardship is the "churchy" word for faithful responsibility with resources, be they time, money, talents, etc. Yet when we talk about stewardship month in the church, we're usually only talking about the money part of it. At St. Mark, we had a speaker last week and the week before who talked about their own (money) stewardship journeys, and encouraged others to be faithful stewards of that which God has given them. Yesterday, we collected pledge cards, which is where each person or family spends some time deciding how much money they plan on giving the church over the course of the next year, then breaks that down to weekly or monthly offerings. This, along with history and some other things, forms the basis of the church's budget for the following year.

As you can see, stewardship is a big deal, but it is also a big leap of faith. Those who are honest, faithful, and prayerful about their stewardship for the following year are taking a big leap. The church council is trusting the people of the congregation to meet their pledges so that the budget comes out balanced--or at least not too far in the red.

But I want to talk more about the meaning of stewardship in the church. It really bothers me that stewardship means so many things to us, yet we only really talk about money. This isn't just a problem at St. Mark. It's a general problem with the church. We emphasize that being faithful stewards includes being eco-friendly, sharing our time and talents, and living our entire life as faithful people, not just Sunday mornings. Why don't we talk about this? What would the church look like if we were faithful stewards of our lives, not just of our money? And would being faithful stewards of our lives make us more faithful stewards of our money?

Evangelism Sermon

This is the sermon I preached in class today. It doesn't have anything to do with my field ed, except that I would love to preach it if the opportunity comes up during the year.

            When I was a little girl, Beauty and the Beast was my favorite movie. I could sing all the songs, laugh before the funny parts even happened, and quote a good chunk of the movie. Who doesn’t love the story of a girl who is so good-hearted that she can fall in love with a hideous beast? And the singing didn’t hurt my love of the movie. But as I get older, I realize that the true message in this story isn’t about singing or magic or a pretty girl falling in love with a beast. It’s about showing love and hospitality to all we meet. This is clear from the very first scene (see the prologue to Beauty and the Beast  here).

            The message here, like in our lesson from Luke today, is that we are called to care for those around us, both stranger and friend. What would have happened if the disciples had ignored or rejected the stranger who approached them on the road? Not only would they have proven that they never did learn what Jesus had taught, but they would have missed out on an opportunity to see the risen Christ! Luke says that the disciples did not recognize Jesus. They had no idea who he was until he broke and blessed the bread at supper, as he had done a few nights before at the Passover.

            But look at how the disciples react when they meet this stranger, who seemingly knows nothing about the events of the past days. They say about Jesus:

“He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.”

            The disciples are not afraid to share their story with the stranger. Although they are gloomy and disenchanted by Jesus’ death, they still have faith, and they are still in awe of all that Jesus did. They call him “powerful in word and deed.” Cleopas and the disciple with him go so far as to share the events of that very morning: our women have seen a vision of angels, and the Lord’s body is gone. There is not a conclusion to the Jesus saga, yet the disciples tell their story anyway. They are so overcome with the emotion and power of it all that they simply cannot help but tell this stranger about their life.

            We should be able to share the Gospel news with equal excitement. God is great, and God has done great things for us. God has equipped us with all we need to share the Gospel message, and constantly empowers us through the Word. How can we keep from sharing the story of God’s great love for us? Why wouldn’t we want the rest of the world to know why we are people of faith? Jesus died on the cross so that all people could be saved from the power of sin and death. So shouldn’t we be bursting with joy to share this message with all people? Cleopas is never mentioned again in the New Testament, yet many people know this tale of the walk to Emmaus. The other disciple with him doesn’t even have a name in this story! That’s because the power of the Gospel is more important than the people who share and hear the story—it’s about God and God’s power. 

            When we have good news, we can’t seem to keep it inside. When we get a good grade, get married, have children, get a job, or achieve something, we tell everyone we meet. We can see this on a daily basis through Facebook. People want to tell their 500 closest friends about all the wonderful events in their lives. If we are this open about the relatively minor, quickly changing news in our lives, how can we possibly keep quiet about God’s saving power? Chris Tomlin has a wonderful song called “How Can I Keep from Singing” where he sings,

How can I keep from singing Your praise
How can I ever say enough
How amazing is Your love
How can I keep from shouting Your name
I know I am loved by the King
And it makes my heart want to sing

Truly how can we keep from singing? The disciples, in the most disappointing moment of their lives, are able to share the great love of Jesus Christ with this stranger. We have been saved by an amazing God. How could we possibly keep this inside?

            The disciples learn a second lesson from their time on the road to Emmaus. Jesus teaches them that they haven’t been listening very well to his words. If they had been listening, perhaps Jesus wouldn’t have said:

“How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself. 

This is not the first time Jesus has instructed the disciples about the need for the Messiah to die and rise again. Throughout Luke, Jesus tells his followers that he will die, but will return to meet them again. Yet Cleopas and his companion apparently forgot this. Part of the lesson they learn on the road is that they made some mistakes.

            We make mistakes when we are sharing the Gospel, too. We all have problems, so of course our conversations and connections will be less than perfect. Occasionally, we might forget the details Christ has given us, but he will always be there to remind us, to teach us again. And through our witness, others can grow to know Christ and learn from him, as well. If we wait for the moment when we are “good enough” to share the Gospel message, we will never speak a word of it. But if we accept that spreading God’s Word to all people, not perfection, is the goal, we won’t be able to keep it inside.

            Perhaps even more interesting than the disciples’ recognition of their own faults is their willingness to listen to this stranger. He calls them “foolish” for not remembering the Scriptures, for not remembering what they have been taught. They don’t leave him behind or stop talking to him on the journey. Instead, they listen to his every word, and later recall that their hearts were “burning” as he spoke to them. When we share the Gospel message, we are all changed. Hearing the Word again reminds us of its great power, and hearing someone else’s understanding of the Word keeps us from arrogance and thinking we know it all. God has a lot to teach us, and God uses many means to do so.

            At the end of the day, the disciples invite Jesus to stay with them, have dinner, and rest where they are staying. Perhaps they have learned a lesson. Jesus tells them in Matthew 25:

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

            “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

            “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Cleopas and his friend have very little idea who this stranger is. They have walked with him for part of the day, shared stories, and learned from one another, but they know little about Jesus’ true character. They don’t know where he is going, what he is doing, or whether he is a good person or not. Yet they invite him in. In fact, they insist that he remain with them through the night. They have truly understood Jesus’ command to care for all people. They have provided hospitality to the Son of Man himself. What if the spoiled, selfish, and unkind prince from Beauty and the Beast had heard this parable? Maybe he would have let the old woman in, providing her dinner and a place to stay in his palace. Sure, the story probably wouldn’t have been that exciting, but the prince would have done a beautiful thing for another human being. They could have shared stories, food, space, and faith.

            Jesus has called us to share his good news with all people. We sometimes think we aren’t qualified, don’t know enough, or aren’t good enough to share the Gospel message. But even these nameless disciples were able to share their faith without fear, but with great awe. We know how their story ends. We know that Jesus rose from the dead, and we know he lives and reigns even today. How can we keep from sharing this message with everyone we meet? How can we keep from singing? Amen.

Together

This Thursday, I had the privilege of going to the Mercer Cluster meeting. This is an annual gathering of the pastors and some laity from the churches in the area, where they discuss what's going on in their churches, in the region, finances, new pastors/pastors who are leaving, etc. Pastor Linda is actually the cluster counselor, and she thought it would be a great experience for me

It's meetings/events like this that I never had the opportunity to attend, even as a pastor's kid. There was really no reason for me to go to gatherings like this, and I mostly stayed home with Mom while Dad went to the boring meetings. So when I get the opportunity to attend this kind of meeting, I really truly enjoy the new experience. I really like the community here in Mercer County. The pastors meet each Tuesday for Bible studies, work hard to support the mission congregation, threw a party for a pastor who was leaving his call, and generally supporting one another in ministry. I love seeing the church at work in a very Jesus-like way, loving one another and being concerned for what happens in each others' lives. It is definitely important for the leadership to have such great relationships with one another.

The various churches are so supportive of one another. The mission congregation needs a lot of financial help, and the rest were more than willing to jump in. One of the churches just called a first-call pastor, and the other pastors are helping out with all of that, as well. The camaraderie is just fantastic, and I hope I am able to find a great group of fellow pastors when I am ordained. It's a very important community to have, and I hope I am so blessed.

Confirmation

This week was Confirmation Sunday, in addition to being Reformation Sunday. It seems that most Lutheran churches throughout the country confirm students either on Reformation or Pentecost. Something about the red? I don't know, but it's kind of cool to have a general idea of when it's going to happen.

Anyway, I haven't had a lot of interaction with these particular confirmands. On my first week at the church, I sat in on their meeting with Pastor Linda about what this Sunday would entail, who would do which jobs in worship, how they should wash their hair because Pastor Linda would be doing a laying on of hands, etc. Beyond that, I haven't spent much time with them, with the exception of the one girl who attends youth group.

These five students are sophomores in high school. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Lutheran process of Confirmation, this is fairly late. Most churches do 1-2 years of Confirmation classes, either during Sunday School or evening times, and then the students are confirmed in the fall of their freshman year. At St. Mark, the students have two years of Sunday School classes, then a third year of evening classes. This system is not Pastor Linda's, but the previous pastor's doing. When I first talked to her about it, I thought it was a bit much--three years? But as I've spent time with the students, watched the different classes in action, thought about the classes, and talked to my fellow students about Confirmation, I've come to realize that this is a great system for a few reasons.

First of all, the students get a full year to study the Old Testament, New Testament and the Catechism. They have a wide variety of teachers, settings, and classes throughout these years. When they've completed Confirmation, they actually have a working knowledge of the Bible, as well as Lutheran doctrine. Imagine doing all that in just one year!

Second, the students have time to grow as people during the course of Confirmation. Rather than jump in during eighth grade and be expected to affirm their commitment to the faith the next year, there is time for struggling with questions about the Bible and faith, and plenty of time to learn.

One of the main motivators I have for liking this system is that students are confirmed in the fall of their sophomore year. For the past three years, one of which was their freshman year of high school, they have been expected to attend class and worship, sometimes instead of other activities. By the time they are sophomores, then, church has become a regular part of their life, not something they can just skip when it doesn't "fit into the schedule." I haven't gotten the chance to ask Linda yet, but I'm wondering what the retention rate of confirmed students is at St. Mark.

This Sunday also marked the 10th anniversary of my own Confirmation, something I could not believe. When I texted my mom about it after the service, she was pretty surprised by it, as well. I had an interesting time reflecting over the last 10 years of my faith life. When I was confirmed, becoming a pastor was the farthest thing from my mind. I was convinced that being a lawyer was my calling, and that I needed to work hard, go to school, and fight in court for the rest of my life. I had a pretty good knowledge of most of the Bible, but there were parts of it I had never read. I understood some of the Lutheran doctrine, but couldn't articulate most of it.

Now, here I was, presenting candidates for Confirmation with tears in my eyes. What an amazing opportunity to see these kids accept responsibility for their own faith, but also recognizing how much farther they will go. God is truly at work, and it was wonderful to be a part of God's work this past Sunday. And, as Pastor Linda said, "Just wait until you've spent three years teaching and working with the kids you're confirming."