Taking Our Part
The Rev. Arthur Halbardier
The Name of Jesus
Text: Luke 2:15-21
We heard Luke’s familiar Christmas story again, as we did on Christmas Eve, but today verse 21 is added: “After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child, and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.” (Luke 2:21)
The birth was announced by angels, first to Mary. Young Mary was engaged to be married, and she was still a virgin. To her the angel says, “You are going to have a child – don’t ask how, and when the child is born you must name him JESUS.”
Now there’s nothing like a surprise pregnancy to complicate wedding plans! Mary must have wondered, “How do I explain this to Joseph, to my family?” But the angel’s words, and especially the child’s name convinced Mary. “This child is God’s will, God’s plan. And I am part of it.” Some time later, an angel comes to Joseph, her future husband . . . who is not happy with the awkward situation Mary has put him in. Was it the Holy Spirit, as she claims, or the product of a brief indiscretion?The angel tells him, “Joseph, you must marry her, and name the child JESUS, because this child will be the Savior of the world!” This is God’s plan, and you are also part of it.
JESUS – “Yeshua,” means “GOD SAVES.” God plans to rescue the world from the power of sin and death through this child, JESUS. Mary and Joseph joined the long line of individuals invited to participate in God’s plans for the world: Abraham and Sarah, Jacob, the boy Samuel, Elijah, Elisha, David, Solomon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Zachariah and Elizabeth, John the Baptist.
But could Mary and Joseph have imagined how complicated or frightening the birth might be? Caesar Augustus announced a new program for collecting taxes, which meant a risky late-pregnancy trip to Bethlehem. And that was only the beginning. I confess that, conditioned by years of participating in childhood Christmas pageants, I grew up with a mental picture of an exhausted Mary and Joseph going door to door in the city of Bethlehem, looking for a place to stay. Joseph trudging from the Holiday Inn to the Bethlehem Sheraton to the Motel 6, Mary sitting uncomfortably outside on the donkey. The desk clerk shaking his head “no” to a pleading Joseph. Every hotel and B and B in Bethlehem was sold out on this most important night.
But that’s not what St. Luke says. Luke wrote, “There was no place for them in THE INN.”
The prophet Micah declared Bethlehem to be “least among the cities of Judah.” Why Bethlehem is even called a “city” I don’t know. Bethlehem today is still a small town, fairly quiet unless there are tourists in town – what is sometimes called a “one-horse” town. Luke tells us that Bethlehem was also a “one inn” town . There is one innkeeper given the chance to have the Savior of the world born under his roof, but he was too busy.
So, as Mary’s labor began, Joseph did what homeless people still do when facing a night on the streets: He looked for a place to make a makeshift bed so Mary could give birth with a little protection from the winter cold. The couple huddled together for warmth in a dark, cold, unsanitary, smelly stable. Certainly no place to give birth to a fragile child.
Did they wonder that night, “What is God thinking?” “What kind of plan is this?”
God’s plan was to risk rejection, danger, misery – even death for us, from Day 1 of human life. Through Jesus’ life and preaching, and eventually his dying and resurrection, God announced a new world where justice, peace, and compassion ruled. For this plan, God enlisted Mary, and then Joseph to take part. And as the birth was happening, enlisted a small group of shepherds to help spread the news. Shepherds! As unlikely a group of messengers as can be imagined.
But then, shepherds are not the last unlikely messengers God would enlist. God still searches out unlikely and unreliable folk to participate in bringing about the new life of the world. Of course, almighty God could have created a new heaven and earth alone, with just a word. God did it once. Certainly recreating wouldn’t be a “heavy lift” for the almighty.
But instead, God engages unreliable humans, and still does.
In baptism, we are invited to carry God’s invitation to a lost and often hostile world. “Let your light shine before others;” to “bear God’s creative and redeeming word to all the world.” Why does God make us part of that plan? Teresa of Avila explained it this way: Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ looks with compassion on this world. Yours are the hands through which Christ blesses all the world. You are the body of Christ.”
We are invited to join the long line of the faithful who accepted the holy challenge of making God’s new era of justice and mercy real. But what can one lone individual do to impact the massive problems of homelessness, hunger, prejudice, systemic injustice? What can one individual do to challenge entrenched corruption and rampant greed which grinds up the poor and powerless to its own advantage? What can one lone individual do to alter the values of society, get the attention of political leaders, challenge cruel immigration policies, stop the curse of drugs and gangs?
There are things we can do. We can advocate, vote, campaign, contribute to organizations that support our values – and we must do those things. We can pray for the sick, the unemployed, the hungry – and don’t ever underrate the power of those prayers. Stacked against the weighty issues of our world, it’s hard to feel our individual efforts are more than small drops in a very large bucket.
God doesn’t call us to single-handedly create a new heaven and new earth. God has already accomplished that in Jesus Christ. But God does invite us to be faithful to making this a better world for someone. We can face with honesty the influence of our prejudices and behavior on others. We can discern in ourselves the fears and excuses that keep us at a distance from others. And consider how on a person to person level we can participate in God’s work of recreating this world. Remember the strong words of Teresa of Avila: Christ has no hands, no feet on earth but yours. You and I can put flesh and blood to the love of Christ for others.
During Advent, I read some devotions by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and these sentences of his have stuck with me these past weeks:
“God comes in the form of the beggar, of the dissolute human child in ragged clothes, asking for help. God confronts you in every person that you meet. As long as there are people, Christ will walk the earth as your neighbor.”
I’m privileged to be part of this community. Here, at Mount Olive I’m inspired by the witness of dozens of bold yet humble individuals. For months, Heather and Thomas have been a fixture on 31st street with their signs. I was deeply touched several times recently to see either Heather or Thomas in our East assembly room. Invited by one of you for a warm beverage, a snack – and to sit with you as you listened to their stories. I saw the words of Bonhoeffer acted out over a mug of coffee and a snack. Christ was there. For Heather, for Thomas, and for those who invited and sat with them.
I’m inspired by those who keep in ongoing contact with those who are sick or grieving. By those who faithfully give rides to others to church, to doctor visits, who visit in hospitals. Who write notes of encouragement and thanks, often to people they hardly know. These people encourage me. And they challenge me. If you shop in this neighborhood, it’s not unusual that someone outside the grocery store will approach you for help. “I’m hungry. I don’t have money to buy food?” I know of one person here who frequently will invite that person to come into the store to shop with her. They share a shopping cart, walk the aisles of the store together, discuss the foods they like. My friend will help her new friend select items, at the end she pays the bill for both of them. Christ is present there, also. For both persons, in that moment.
In our liturgy, we frequently have brief rituals when people take on a responsibility. They state their intent to do their best, saying “I will, and I ask God to help and guide me.” God invites each of us to be part of the holy task of bringing about a new world of compassion, love and care for others. What invitation may Christ be holding out to you? As Bonhoeffer wrote, Christ confronts me (and you) in every person that we meet. It’s a daunting notion, that God looks to us for a part in God’s holy work. Daunting to say “yes” to God. But this is certain: God will indeed help and guide us.
Worship, Sunday, January 1, 2023
The Name of Jesus
Download worship folder for Sunday, January 1, 2023, 10:00 a.m.
Presiding and Preaching: The Rev. Arthur Halbardier
Readings and prayers: Judy Hinck, lector; David Anderson, Assisting Minister
Organist: Cantor David Cherwien
What Difference Does it Make?
We celebrate the birth of Jesus each year to remember that Jesus, God with us, came into the world as we all do, giving us purpose and a future.
Vicar Mollie Hamre
The Nativity of Our Lord, Advent A
Texts: Isaiah 52:7-10 and John 1:1-14
Beloved in Christ, grace and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
There’s a giant clock in New York City that can be found counting down.
It is found on East 14th Street with one word beside it that reads “DEADLINE.” This clock is not for the New Year, but one that counts down the critical time window to reach zero emissions in order to limit the long-term damages of climate change. People walk by this clock everyday and today it reads 6 years, 209 days, 1 hour, 3 minutes, and so many seconds.
I say this because that clock is something I think about a lot.
And as that clock enters my mind, I want to know. What difference does it make today? What difference does the coming of God today mean to us when we think about that clock? How does God tell us that we can live in God’s reign when our world fights change that is needed?
Especially on the backdrop of a world that God proclaims to have come and still resides in. It leaves me feeling anxious and isolated. It leaves me feeling vulnerable and wanting to push away those problems.
But I also think that when we open up ourselves, that it leads us to God and to truly think about how God comes to us today.
John tells us, “The world came into being through God, yet the world did not know God.”
Jesus, God with us, comes in the form of a human, like us. Not in an epic entrance from a superhero movie, but from a remarkable, yet ordinary woman who existed in a time of Empire rule. A human born in the stables, as a refugee, and into a world that cries for help, just as ours does.
And Jesus, God with us, enters directly into that world, in the hardship and begins to walk among the people. Not noticeable, but also not fully under the radar either, to bring the Word and light to people. Stirring up questions about what the world could be. Accompanying people in discovering grace and truth in the world. And as soon as people began to implement that grace and truth in their lives transformation happened.
But this is not a God only transformation.
The Gospel goes on to say that as God takes on human flesh to be within the world, that there are others part of this light too. Those called to witness to live and proclaim the light. That is you and me, testifying the way God calls for justice, the healing of creation and bringing God’s reign to the world.
We are called to be witnesses and proclaimers of God’s light. And we are told today that this same light that was in the prophet John is inside of you and me, alive with passion and hope. Just as it is in your neighbor. And just as it is in strangers you do not know showing life, a reflection of God’s presence, and announcing hope to a world that would rather dismiss than embrace transformation.
This does not sweep away anxieties, it does not take away the pain. It does not suddenly fix climate change. And even worse, it asks that we are vulnerable.
But it is the key for the Clock in New York City.
Occasionally the numbers on the clock changes from the “DEADLINE” count down to a second set of numbers. This instead is a percentage that reads “Lifeline” indicating the amount of energy from renewable sources in the world. And truthfully, it is not much at the moment. It feels insignificant, easy to pass over, and almost not worth our time.
But to God, it is a little piece of light amidst a daunting countdown. A light to witness and testify. A flicker of hope, challenging that the future could be so much more, that our world can be a better place.
And when we see those pieces of light, that is when God appears.
This light tells us each year that Jesus, God with us, came into the world, as we all do, with a purpose, and a future, that God walks within it. Telling us we are not alone. And daring us to hope for the kind world that the people from Isaiah celebrate as the messenger brings good news. The world that the Psalm proclaims as God judges the world with righteousness and equity. We celebrate the birth of Jesus each year because it reminds us that God is active in our world and continues to be, even when we do not see God.
This is the little light that comes to us today.
The light that tells us and pushes us to work towards good in the world. Jesus, God with us, comes to experience the pain that is within life. To be vulnerable. To experience the fear and doubt that plague us. And to tell us that even when we are amidst the shadows, there is a light that shines through.
This is the light that brings transformation.
A light that tells us our world can grow with renewable energy. A light that tells us we can have a future where people are no longer in the cold. Where all people are welcomed and loved, no strings attached. A light that listens to the voice of the oppressed and uplifts those in need.
The birth of Jesus makes a difference to the Clock in New York City because we need to know that we can make a difference. And when we are isolated and anxious, we are reminded, through one another, that God continues to appear. That God continues to call us each and every day to seek out ways to emulate Christ. And to know that we can truly have a hope for a future because the “word” that we grow in together is the same that has taken on flesh and continues to live among us. Showing ways to work together and to have hope that a brighter future lies ahead.
In the name of the Father, and of the ☩ Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Who Could Be the Same?
Christmas isn’t the same as when we were little. And that’s a blessing, a joy, as we grow ever more deeply aware of and living in God’s coming into our broken world.
Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Eve of the Nativity of Our Lord
Text: Luke 2:1-20
Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Christmas isn’t the same as when I was a child.
Tonight was magic: dinner at Grandpa and Grandma’s after the church Christmas program, opening presents after waiting what seemed like hours for the grownups to wash the dishes, the drive home, the falling asleep in anticipation. The magic was darkness and music, waiting, family, a paper bag with peanuts and candy and an orange from the church, driving home and looking at Christmas lights.
It’s not like that anymore. Grandma, who lovingly made the meals, is gone; so is Grandpa. Uncle Ray and my mother, who made the night so magical, are gone. The house belongs to someone else. I don’t know who has the dining room table, or the hutch I always sat in front of. Even driving and looking at lights doesn’t have the wonder it did as a child.
Christmas just isn’t the same.
And you know what? That’s a good thing.
The magical Christmas I knew as a child wasn’t big enough to deal with the world as it is.
My parents protected me from a hard world, where many suffered and struggled. Now, my mother organized a distribution of boxes of groceries for a Christmas feast those who were needy in our town, and I helped, putting frozen turkeys in every box in the hall, distributing the abundance of donated food into each as well. I’d ride along with our mother to deliver boxes to those who couldn’t come in person.
But I knew little about war, true poverty, oppression, racism. I didn’t understand my privilege I hold in so many ways that others do not enjoy. I knew little about the evils people do to each other. I didn’t yet know the grief of the death of loved ones. The idea that God needed to enter this broken, hurtful, killing world to change it, to heal it, to bring all humanity back into God’s love, wasn’t part of the magic then.
It is now. It’s not the joy I remember. It’s better joy. Deeper magic. As I got older, and saw more, and experienced joy and sorrow, understood more pain and suffering of my neighbor, I also grasped more and more the wonder of the holy and Triune God entering into our world to bring peace and healing and hope.
I wonder if remembering this day changed for those who were there.
Can you imagine the shepherds going back to their work after this? It was a night of being stunned, overwhelmed, excited, confused. But what about years later? Did they still hold this hope that God had come? Did they let it go over their hard lives? Were they changed?
Luke says Mary pondered all these things in her heart. Imagine just how her understanding changed in the first nine months. And there was more to come – a beautiful but ominous blessing by Simeon in the temple, an escape into Egypt. The life this child led, his ministry. And the horror of the cross, the wonder of Easter, the inrushing joy of Pentecost. Mary’s grasp of what her son’s birth meant changed dramatically as she walked her journey. And that changed her.
If Christmas is going to make any difference to you, it has to change, too.
So many of us have people we love who will not be with us at Christmas. We can’t go back in time. That magic can’t be recreated. And that’s true of all memories of Christmases past. If we bask in nostalgia and try to remake what we think we remember, we’ll just be disappointed and sad.
So if celebrating God coming to you as one of us will mean anything to you and your life, to this world and its pain, it needs to be big enough to handle your grief. Your loss. Your loneliness. Your confusion. Your fear. Your pain. It needs to be able to embrace all the pain and suffering of this world, and bring a healing hope to that. Christmas needs to be that big, or it needs to change.
Pondering this birth in your heart, as Mary did, letting it grow, deepen, sit with you over the years, will change Christmas for you. And that will change you as well.
Because you’ll learn what God’s coming really means.
You’ll remember this baby was threatened from the beginning, and, after teaching of God’s love, healing, drawing people into God’s reign, was executed. God’s coming as a vulnerable child became God-with-us vulnerably offering his life. Embrace this baby tonight and remember to touch the wounded hands and side, and you won’t be the same. You’ll learn God’s wounded answer to the world’s suffering and pain is hope and life for all.
And you’ll remember when this baby was grown, he said that you, and I, and all God’s children, were bearers of God in this world. That God’s Spirit that filled him would be in you, and me. So that we could bear the same vulnerable love into a world of pain and sadness and oppression and violence, and make a difference, even in our small circles. Your grace to that grieving person this Christmas is God’s grace. Your acting in justice and mercy in your life and your voting and your care for your neighbor is God acting in this world for healing.
When you remember that each year as you walk your journey, Christmas will change.
And with God’s grace, you’ll be changed to even more deeply recognize the need for God to come to this world in our human body, including your human body and mine. With God’s grace, you’ll be changed to appreciate more and more how God’s coming actually can bring peace to you and to a world longing so deeply for it. With God’s grace, you’ll rejoice more and more with each passing year that God continues to work in you and me and so many, and we can see it sometimes, feel it, know it.
Christmas just isn’t the same as it used to be. But neither are you. And neither am I. Thank God for that. Thank God for coming to us in this child. And thank God for coming in you and me and all God’s children, so we can embrace God as God really is, be God’s love even as we receive God’s love, and be the miracle, the magic, of God’s coming wherever we are.
In the name of Jesus. Amen
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