This is the fourth advent sermon based on the scripture passage Luke 1:39-45.

I have gained a new appreciation for the Christmas story since having a child of my own. Emma was born in mid-January so the Christmas before her birthday Erica and I were waiting expectantly like Mary and Joseph for a baby to come. Now that we are expecting our second child I am thinking about this again as Christmas roles around. Especially this week. On Wednesday this past week we got to see our second child – a little girl – on the ultrasound! It is incredible what you can see with ultrasounds – they are even better than a few years ago when Emma was born. At one point the ultrasound technician commented that the baby looked like she was doing aerobics because she was moving her legs and arms so much.

I wonder what Elizabeth would have seen if she could have witnessed her baby, John the Baptist, leap for joy in her womb. What does a leap for joy look like? In the womb? It would have been pretty fun to watch on the monitor! That image in this passage is so striking – when Mary comes to greet her relative Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s baby leaps for joy in her womb. He leaps because Mary is also pregnant. Pregnant with the baby Jesus – the coming Messiah, the Lord, God entering the world as a human baby.

I don’t know what it is like to feel a baby inside my body and I never will. But I do know that seeing the ultrasound is pretty exciting! It was a joyful moment. I was high all day on Wednesday after we had been to the hospital to see it. And the whole process of having a child is joyful. Hard, exhausting, often frustrating – but incredibly joyful. Often when I go to pick up Emma at her daycare provider she greets me with the most amazing smile. She sees me and says, “Daddy!” as if she couldn’t imagine anything she would want more than to see me at that moment. There is absolutely nothing better in the world then the feeling of being her dad. Or when I come home from work and I can hear her yelling down the stairs for me before I even get in from the garage. There is nothing better in the world than being loved by my daughter. It is truly joyful. And a special gift.

As I reflected on this passage I wondered to myself – What is joy? What does it mean to leap for joy? I know the feeling of joy when I hug my daughter. But what about when she yells and screams at me and tells me to go away? I know the feeling of joy when I am caught of guard by a powerful piece of music or a moving story on NPR. But what about the constant news of death in Iraq? I know the feeling of joy when I am out hiking in the woods and the air is fresh, the birds chirping and the views amazing. But what about the fact that miles of forest are destroyed by the minute and species go extinct each day? Can there be joy in the midst of sorrow? Can there be joy in the midst of tragedy? Can there actually be joy in the world?

What is joy? Is it the excitement of getting a new I-pod for Christmas? Is it the pride of receiving an A on a paper? These things are nice but they are more about happiness or pleasure – not always true joy. Joy is deeper than happiness. It is more meaningful than pleasure. It is not something that we create or bring about. We can buy a new toy to feel happy or enjoy the pleasure of a good meal. Joy might be found in those things, but if it is it will be outside of our control. It springs up unexpectedly. It takes us over in a wave of surprise. It is a passing moment. A feeling that is so hard to describe. Like walking along lakeshore path and catching the sunset in an indescribable moment. Or hearing a poem that brings tears to your eyes. It is rooted in something beyond just the physical. I remember hearing a song when I was a kid that said something like, “Joy is not in how things go. Joy is in the hope and truth we know.” Cheesy but true. Joy is not related to the ups and downs of everyday life. To the things we have, the things we do, the things that we create. It transcends a good day and hopefully even a bad day. Joy is a gift. A gift from God.

A moment of joy might take the form of a hug. A smile. A memory. A reaction to music or art. Just lying in bed in the dark. It might pop up anywhere. Perhaps just for a fleeting moment. The passage we heard today from the gospel of Luke describes joy as emanating from God entering the world as a baby. Mary, the pregnant mother of Jesus, has come to visit Elisabeth. This story is only found in Luke – the other gospels do not include it. Mary was told by the angel Gabriel that she will bear a son – a very special child. Gabriel also tells her that Elizabeth is 6 months pregnant which is amazing since Elizabeth was quite old and had been barren her whole life. So Mary rushes to visit Elizabeth. She makes the journey of 70 miles by herself. It would have been highly unusual for a young, pregnant woman to go on such a journey unaccompanied. When she greets Elizabeth the baby leaps at the greeting. Twice in just a few short verses Luke notes that the baby leapt for joy when his mother was greeted by Mary. Elizabeth is surprised by the visit and surprised by joy.

Elizabeth proclaims that Mary is blessed and speaks of Mary’s baby as “her Lord” This is an incredible statement to make: a wizened old woman calling an unborn infant her Lord. After this proclamation of blessing from Elizabeth Mary sings a song of joy. Two women together. Two babies. All filled with indescribable joy.

Mary sings what is known as the Magnificat:
⁴⁶ And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord,
 ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
 ⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
 ⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
 ⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
 ⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
 ⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
 ⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
 ⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
 ⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

Mary sings a song of joy about God. About who God is – a God that is holy, merciful and strong. A God who reverses social order and takes care of the downtrodden. A God who keeps promises. She sings a song of joy about who God is and who God will always be. This is more than a song of thanksgiving. It is more than her thanking God for giving her nice things or even for giving her a son. It is more than her just thanking God for what God has done – she thanks God for who God is, God’s very character. This is a song of adoration. A song of joy – praising God for who God is. Holy, merciful, strong and faithful. In fact, she might not even be that thankful that she will bear a son. She is not married and will be the disgrace of the town for having a child. Her life is more complicated than before. Much more complicated. It isn’t happy and easygoing. But it is joyful. She has been surprised by joy.

For that moment at least Mary and Elizabeth – and baby John – embrace the joy that has overcome them. The joy that has been given to them. But they didn’t receive it immediately. When Gabriel came to Mary to tell her the incredible news that she was going to be the mother of the Messiah, Mary was first perplexed, then incredulous and disbelieving before she finally embraced the message. When Mary first arrives at Elizabeth’s house Elizabeth questions why such a special blessing was given to her. Why is the Lord, God, present in her very house? Why does she deserve such a gift? They resisted the gift of joy because they felt undeserving. Yet it was given to them nonetheless.

It is appropriate for us to recognize the vast gap between us and God and to see that we are not deserving of God’s gifts simply on our own merit. But like Elizabeth and Mary we resist joy. We resist what God sends to us, what God gives to us. We strive for happiness – we seek fulfillment in material possessions, assurance in our accomplishments and companionship through relationships. But no matter how much we seek these things there is always doubt in our minds. There is always fear. Loneliness. And Self-doubt. We do not think we deserve joy. We don’t think we are worthy or valuable enough to receive it. Elizabeth had just been blessed with a child in her old age – a gift that could only have come from God. Yet she still questions her worthiness to receive the joy of Mary’s baby. We are fragile, lonely, worried people feeling unworthy to receive joy. 

And yet it breaks into our lives anyways. God sees us as worthy. God sees us as valuable, lovable, worth caring for. On Christmas day 2000 years ago God deemed us so valuable God became one of us. God joined us in our fragile state and broke into our world bringing joy. Joy has entered our world. And it pops up in our lives. Even if we resist it. Even in the middle of sorrow and pain. Even when we feel rejected. Even as wars rage and forests burn. Joy breaks in. It surprises us. Joy showed up in Elizabeth and Mary’s bodies. Joy knocked on Elizabeth’s door. God came into their messy lives and brought joy. Christ’s birth was not simple – away from family, surrounded by animals, under the threat of being killed by King Herod. It was messy but joy broke in. And for a moment it overcame doubt and fear. And so John leaped. John leaped in his mother’s womb. 
         
Erica and I just received the magazine our seminary publishes each quarter for alumni. It contains an article about art and faith. One of the pieces of art caught my attention. Art has a way of describing experiences and meaning in ways that words simply cannot convey. I went on the internet and found the piece that caught my eye. It is a painting by Vincent van Gogh called, “Prisoners Exercising”. At first glance it appears to be a group of people pacing around in circle surrounded by tall prison walls. They are weighed down by the condition of their lives and the walls around them. But if you look very closely – hard to do on this screen – you will catch a glimpse of a butterfly flying high over their heads. A glimpse of a tiny, beautiful lively butterfly present as they walk with heads hung low. This image strikes me as capturing the concept of joy far more effectively than my sermon today. Joy is like a butterfly that flits down into our lives – sometimes when we least expect it.

As we go through life we find it hard to see beyond the next step in front of us. We do not feel worthy of God’s love and acceptance. We sometimes even ourselves build the walls around us. But we might catch a glimpse of a butterfly. Even in the midst of deep pain we might catch a glimpse of a butterfly flitting in and around the paces we take. In death there are moments of family healing. In difficulty there are moments of learning. In sorrow there are moments of laughter. In uncertainty or fear there are moments of hope – hope in the promise of God. There are glimpses of butterflies.

But butterflies are erratic. They come and go as they please. They are difficult to chase and sometimes we get just a quick look at them. C.S. Lewis talks about the desire to experience joy again and again but the elusive nature of that experience. He says, “To get (Joy) again became my constant endeavor; while reading every poem, hearing every piece of music, going for every walk, I stood anxious sentinel at my own mind to watch whether the blessed moment was beginning and to endeavor to retain it if it did. [Sometimes] I tasted Joy. But far more often I frightened it away by my greedy impatience to snare it, and, even when it came, instantly destroyed it by introspection...” In trying to control it and make it happen, Lewis found that he ended up destroying it.

In that way too joy is like a butterfly. You cannot capture a butterfly easily. If you hold onto one too tightly you will kill it. You cannot predict when it will come or go. You can only enjoy it for the moment it is present.
Yet we look out into the field to see the butterfly again. We want to experience the indescribable feeling of true joy again and again. We long for it to fill our lives. Because joy connects to something beyond this world. It is a glimpse of heaven. Of God’s enormous love and acceptance of us. Lewis describes joy as an “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.” It is a desire that cannot be fulfilled by any action on our part or anything we control. Joy is elusive because it is a glimpse of what we long for beyond this world. No presents, no grades, no acclaim, no girlfriends or boyfriends, none of these things bring the fullness of God’s joy into our lives. They are wonderful pleasures for sure. But true moments of joy are the taste of God’s love, grace, and acceptance. Tastes of heaven. That taste of heaven is what Christmas is all about – the moment in history when God entered our world. When a tiny baby brought hope and a promise of new life to all people. That is the joy of Christmas!

This is the third Advent sermon based on the scripture passage Luke 3:7-18.

          We are just a couple of weeks away from Christmas, the day which marks the birth of Jesus and the entrance of God as human into our world. The season of Advent is a time in which we prepare ourselves for this significant event. Most of our preparations, however, seem to revolve around finals, buying presents, and making plans for what we’ll do over the Christmas break. Our normal routines for this time of year might include buying a tree, decorating, and spending a significant amount of time at the library or a coffee shop. “Normal” for us though, is exactly what God calls us away from in this time of Advent.

            Today’s scripture passage is about John the Baptist, who as Mark described last week, wore camel’s hair, a leather belt, and ate locusts and wild honey in the desert. He is definitely not the definition of normal. It is fitting that John is traditionally seen as a major figure in the Season of Advent because he draws our attention away from the usual Christmas fanfare. Even beyond the commercialization of the holidays, Christmas is often presented as a wonderful time to celebrate family and church traditions—we do things which are familiar. John the Baptist says something quite different to us though in the time of Advent. There are three parts to his message which I think are important as we prepare ourselves for the birth of Christ. First, he calls us to come away from our normal lives; second, he calls for repentance; and third, he sends us back to our normal lives with a challenge to reflect our renewed commitment to God. I think a helpful way to look at these three components is in the framework of mission trips.

            Some of you have taken mission trips before, and some of you haven’t—regardless if you’ve never gone on one or gone a dozen times, I think they are useful spiritual disciplines that we should all engage in on a regular basis because they have the power to really transform us. In some ways, the crowd of people who went out to John the Baptist in the desert were on a mission trip themselves.

            The first thing John tells us is to come away from our normal lives. One of the ways we are able to really take stock of ourselves is by taking a step back from our usual routines. Whether we fly across the world, drive down to Mississippi, or head across town to a neighborhood where we are the minority, stepping outside of our comfort zones helps us to see things differently.

            When Mark and I were in college, we spent one of our summers in the inner-city of Atlanta working with kids from government housing projects. There were other college students from around the country too, and we all lived together in a couple of houses across the street from one another in a neighborhood with drugs, crime, and violence. My roommate was a girl from Northwestern University and there were other students from Wheaton, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Georgia. Coming from Berkeley, I was used to being around a lot of Asians, but that summer we lived in an all African-American neighborhood—the other students were all white, except for me. Beyond the racial landscape, I was getting used to the thunderstorms and humidity which seemed to produce unearthly sized cockroaches and swarms of mosquitoes which gave me bites at the rate of five per minute. We spent our days with kids from crime infested and drug ridden areas, and the evenings negotiating how to use our $20/week allowances to provide enough food for all of us. It was quite different from my normal routine, and though we were in an urban area, I felt very much like I was in the wilderness.

            Things that I took for granted at home became more apparent. I couldn’t go for a run because it wasn’t safe to be outside alone, and also because it was too hot most of the time. Fresh fruits and vegetables were a rarity on a $20 budget in the inner-city. Having privacy and space was out of the question when living with that many other people—and I started to understand how one could go really crazy in a crowded environment. Being able to choose to live away from the effects of violence was a luxury that many people simply didn’t have.

            By leaving my normal environment which meant access to good education, health care, safety, and at the very least a credit card I could use if I needed to buy something, I became more aware and sensitive to how much I needed God and how because God had blessed me with so much I was also called to a greater responsibility than living for myself. For me, going to Atlanta was like going out to the desert, into the wilderness, so I could gain a better perspective on my life and what was important.

            That leads to the second part of John the Baptist’s message—repentance. The crowds who left their normal routines in the city to go out into the desert to see John were told to bear fruits worthy of repentance. After removing themselves from their usual environment, they could start to see more clearly how their lives were not matching up to God’s call. Repentance literally means turning around—it’s an acknowledgement that something needs to change.

            During my time in Atlanta I had a lot to repent about. The summer was meant to give us an opportunity to serve God and also learn what it was like to live in a community that had problems of crime, drugs, racism, and poverty. It was a choice for me and the other students to live there, but for almost everyone else it was not. It seems strange to call it a privilege to be able to go spend a summer in such a difficult place, but that’s really what it was—a privilege. It gave me new perspective on my normal life.

            There were of course the things I took for granted that I didn’t have access to while I was in Atlanta. But I also became aware of how much I lived my life in fear, trying always to preserve my own life in every way. One Saturday afternoon a group of us returned from the Laundromat to find a man pacing our driveway. As I got myself and bag of laundry out of the car, he came over and started talking. He kept saying how this used to be his house, and we knew from the history that where we were living was once a crack house. At one point he took my bag of laundry, offering to bring it into the house for me, but I quickly took my bag back and said no thanks. It was clear that the man was high on something, and all I could think of were various scenarios in which something bad happened to one of us.

            So I grabbed my stuff and made a beeline for the house across the street, and as soon as I got in I started telling the other girls how we needed to lock the door and maybe call the cops. As I explained what was going on, one of the girls got off the couch and walked out the door. I went to the kitchen window and watched her calmly walk over to the man and start talking to him. I don’t know what she said but I was amazed at how fearless she was, and how unlike me, she responded to the call to see every person as God’s beloved child. She and some of the other students continued to talk to him while the rest of us watched nervously from the windows. While they were outside, all of us who were inside worried about the possible danger and tried to come up with a plan of how to protect ourselves. Finally, the conversation dissipated and a few of the students agreed to give the man a ride because he was asking for bus fare. Meanwhile, I had a lot to think about.

            I had to think about the stereotypes, prejudices, and racism that existed within me. I had to think about how my own fears caused me to recoil from another human being instead of responding in love. I had to think about why all I wanted to do was lock myself in a safe house and let other people handle the “problems.” I was challenged by how I was so intent on preserving my own life with no regard to how this man’s life needed preserving as well. My concern was only to protect myself, and I seemed only willing to serve God if it meant that I didn’t have to risk anything or change anything. These were all painful realizations, as I saw how even though I was on a mission trip, I was ignoring God’s call to lay everything down to follow after Jesus. I wanted faith on my terms, not on God’s.

            Though these were difficult things for me to admit, they led to repentance, to turning around. Bringing to light the ways in which I was not aligned with God’s purposes opened me up in new ways for God to work in my heart. It also gave me new eyes to see how I needed to make some changes in my normal life.

            And that brings us to the third part of John’s message. After leaving their normal lives for the desert and realizing they were not living as God desired them to, the crowd repented and asked John what they should do. John’s response is interesting—he does not call them to stay in the wilderness to become an ascetic monk like him. Instead, he challenges them to go back to their normal lives but to act differently. To the tax collectors and soldiers, both professions which were not highly respected in Jewish society, John instructs them to act ethically and fairly. To the crowd, he instructs them to give to whoever has need. He was calling for them to realign their purposes with God’s and to make a renewed commitment to reflect that reality in their lives. He sent them back to their normal lives with transformed hearts and understanding.

            My time in Atlanta was full of learning and new revelations, as almost all mission trips are. The challenge for me was to find a new normal as I returned to school in the Fall. Having a time in the wilderness gave me new perspective, but I had to be very intentional about bringing that into my life at home and to making changes. The problems that existed in Atlanta were also problems that existed in Berkeley, and I could either lock myself back up in my protective bubble, or I could respond to the need around me as God desired.

            I could rush to class, past the homeless person sitting on the street, and pretend not to notice him or her. I could say nothing when people spoke in stereotypes about other people. I could ignore the abuse of alcohol and drugs around campus because it wasn’t my problem. In short, I could let my time in Atlanta remain an isolated experience. OR, I could make a new definition of normal; I could integrate my time in the wilderness into my life as a college student and make different choices. Instead of planning how I was going to avoid all those problems, I could choose to directly engage them because God’s call was for me to respond, not run away. Throughout the rest of my time in college, and even to this day, I continue to wrestle with what it means to give up my protectionist attitude and lay down my fears to fully follow after Christ.

            In this Season of Advent, I think it is helpful to think of John’s message in terms of relationships. When you start dating someone, there’s usually some excitement as you get to know each other better. You’ve left your normal status as a single person, and gone into the wilderness of romance. If any of you have dated someone long-term, you know that the starry-eyed gazing at one another is not what sustains the relationships. You start to discover in the desert that to make the relationship work, you have to make different choices. For example, you can’t keep dating a whole bunch of other people. What’s important to your significant other becomes important to you. You start to consider how your decisions will impact the person you love, and you spend more time with him or her. Once you’ve returned from the romantic wilderness, you have to find a new normal which includes your boyfriend or girlfriend. You don’t give up being you or your interests, but you do make changes to reflect the reality that you have made a commitment to this person.

            As we approach Christmas, we are invited into a relationship with Jesus. John the Baptist reminds us that in preparing for his arrival, we need to think about the changes we are going to make in our lives. And so I leave you with that invitation. Go out into the desert, away from the normal Christmas routines, and get some perspective. What are God’s desires for you? What is God calling for you to change? And after you spend some time in the wilderness, return to your normal life, but let it be a new normal in which you reflect the romance you have started with the baby who is born to us on Christmas Day.

Advent. Isaiah 40:3-5, Luke 3:1-6

When I was in high school I used to go bicycling in the Colorado Rocky Mountains every summer with a church youth group. It was one of my favorite weeks of the year. We rode 250 miles over 4 major mountain passes in 6 days. It was spectacular. The first day of riding was from Glenwood Springs to Edwards. To get out of Glenwood Springs we had to go through a huge tunnel built right through the middle of a mountain. But we couldn’t ride our bikes through it. It was under construction each of the summers I rode because it was such a major project to build. A little like East Washington Ave. here in Madison which is a 5 year project to repair. The major highway tunnel in Colorado was an incredible civil engineering feat. I heard it was named among the top 10 engineering wonders of the world. Which is probably why it took so many years to build. So each summer when we got to the tunnel we would hitch a ride in the construction workers’ trucks through the construction area to the other side. It was annoying and took a while to load up 40 people and bikes and shuttle us all through. But then the alternative would have been to ride over the mountain. That would have been an even greater pain – I know because we rode over other mountains on those trips – and it takes a long time! In the end the highway running through the mountain made passage to the other side easier, much easier.
    
We take roads for granted. But they are an incredible invention that has changed our lives. By highway many of you can get home and back for Thanksgiving all over the state in just a couple of hours – a trip that would take days or weeks by horse or foot. We can pick up fresh oranges from California and limes from Florida at the local grocery store. Milk from Wisconsin cows makes its way all over the country before it spoils. Roads contributed to the expansion of the population from east to west and from cities to suburbs. Trucks deliver the same Playstation 3s to Target stores all over the country – well maybe not enough of those but that isn’t the roads fault! Roads provide a way through the countryside for food, people, mail, raw materials, consumer goods -- so much that makes our life what it is.
    
You really notice the value of roads when you travel somewhere that doesn’t have adequate ones. About five years ago Erica and I spent a few weeks in Ethiopia. Most of our time was spent in the rural mountain regions in the middle of the country. We traveled by Toyota Land Cruiser because the roads were nothing more than piles of rocks. There wasn’t an inch of pavement for hundreds of miles. Within 20 minutes on any drive we had a splitting headache and needed to visit a chiropractor because of all the bumps and hits. Even the Land Cruisers weren’t quite enough – one afternoon we were driving along and I heard a sudden pop as the vehicle lurched to one side. At first I thought it was a flat tire. But then I saw the entire wheel rolling away off the side of the road – smoking. The wheel had actually broken clean off the axle. The truck had hit a particularly big rock and snapped the wheel right off! I wondered why they make roads out of rocks anyways. It seemed like it would be easier to just drive on the dirt – at least it would be smoother. Why build roads out of rocks?
    
The answer was presented to me one day when we went up to visit a remote farm and meet the farmer’s family. To reach this land high up in the mountains we had to drive up a particularly rough rock road. It was in fact a new road. People had been building the road for many months by laying down huge boulders using only their hands and very basic tools. And it was incredibly bumpy! But then we came to the end of the path of rocks – we got as far as they had finished the road. And our driver decided to go on a bit further. So we drove off the rocks and onto the dirt – except it wasn’t dirt – it was mud. We drove right into a big pile of mud. And instantly we were stuck. As we waited outside the truck for the next few hours while a variety of techniques were employed to try and free the Land Cruiser I realized why the roads were made out of rocks. Dirt roads don’t work in Ethiopia. Most of the year is very dry and droughts are common. But the winter months bring a rainy season. When the rains come dirt turns into mud. Dirt roads turn into rivers of mire. It becomes impossible to travel anywhere. It becomes impossible to transport food or medical supplies. Impossible to bring in grain for animals to eat or take out the potatoes that are farmed in that region. It becomes impossible to bring in relief workers to help starving children that result from all the previous problems. Those rocky roads – even though they shake the brain and hurt the back – are critical to the people of rural Ethiopia. They prepare the way for basic subsistence.
         
And so the people in those communities in Ethiopia build roads. They build them by placing one large stone next to another painstakingly by hand. It takes months, years to build a rough rock road. But they do it because they want to make a path for life giving food and supplies to get into to their community. They do it to prepare a way for something of great value. In the midst of a harsh environment where life is difficult they lay down rocks. In the midst of a wilderness they build roads.
         
In our passage from Luke today we are introduced to John the Baptist. Or actually re-introduced. The first chapter of Luke describes the amazing birth of John to a couple far too old to conceive a child. Here in chapter 3 John begins his public ministry to the people of Israel. People come to him out in the desert to be baptized. John calls them to repent – to turn away from their focus on false gods and to turn their full attention to the true God. He offers them hope amidst the injustice that the Israelites are experiencing at the hand of the Romans. And John must have been a sight to behold. The gospel of Mark says that he was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. John had a significant impact on the Israelite community in his own right but his real purpose, his most important role is to prepare the way for someone greater. To build a road for the coming of someone more important. Someone truly life giving. He builds a road for the coming Jesus Christ. He opens up the way for Jesus to come to the people and provide for them what they need. He prepares the way for Jesus to bring the good news of God’s grace to all of humanity.
         
In describing John the Baptist the author of this passage – Luke – quotes from the Old Testament book of Isaiah saying, “as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.  ⁵ Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth;  ⁶ and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'" It is very interesting to look at the quotation Luke uses in its original, unedited form – found in Isaiah 40:3-5. That verse comes out a little differently in English although both suggest the same general meaning. Isaiah reads: ³ A voice cries out: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.  ⁴ Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.  ⁵ Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken." In the original text it isn’t the prophet who is in the wilderness but the highway that is to be prepared that makes its way through the desert. During the time of the writing of this passage from Isaiah the Israelites were living in exile in Babylon. They had been defeated by the Babylonians and many had been carried off to exile. In Babylon it was customary for a “highway” to be prepared for the arrival of a dignitary such as a King. Isaiah is drawing on this imagery in describing making way for the Lord. Like adoring people preparing a highway for their king so also a highway is prepared for God.

There are obstacles, however, in the way of God meeting the people. Obstacles that must be overcome with a highway. In Isaiah the image of valleys being filled in and hills made low is descriptive of the obstacles keeping the Israelites from escaping their exile and returning to their place of worship. Freedom and a return to Jerusalem are symbolic of a renewed relationship with God. When Luke uses the same imagery in the New Testament it is suggestive of obstacles such as distraction, oppression, idolatry, religious confusion and sin which must be overcome in preparation for meeting God in Jesus Christ.
         
A road is built to overcome obstacles. In Colorado tunnels are put through mountains because we need to get over them. In Ethiopia rocks are laid down in order to cover the miry mud that traps even the strongest trucks. John the Baptist calls the people of Israel out into the wilderness to get them out of their everyday lives and help them to focus on their relationship with God. He builds a road over the obstacles in their lives so that they can hear the good news and meet Jesus Christ. John knows that Jesus is so important he wants the people to know this man, this man who is God’s own son. So he builds a road for Jesus to travel on to meet the people and for the people to meet Jesus. John doesn’t bring the people to Jesus. Or Jesus to them. It is God who does that. But John paves the way. He lays down the rocks. He builds the road and removes the obstacles so the connection can be made. 
         
This week Benjamin shared with me a very insightful observation about Mac users. A phenomenon you have probably experienced. Benjamin loves Macintosh Computers. And like many Mac users he likes to talk about their greatness. Mac users are always telling PC users how much better their computers are, how fabulous I-pods and I-tunes are. How Macs don’t get viruses and don’t crash. And how they look amazing! Mac users talk about their machines all the time and slip it into conversation at every opportunity. They anticipate obstacles others might raise – too expensive? Not really because you get more for your money. Not compatible with PCs? Well now Macs can run Windows. Not enough software? Who needs more software – they come with the best stuff already loaded. They prepare the way for people to buy a Mac and want to see their friends buy a Mac. They are calling out in the wilderness – prepare to have the best computer ever!
         
And why not? Don’t you want to talk about the new song you heard that is incredible? Or the new movie you saw? Before Thanksgiving a friend e-mailed me to say that Chipotle was giving away free burritos for a week if you brought in two canned foods for a local food pantry. When I went it was obvious that a lot of other people had also told their friends – because there was no sign outside describing this deal but the line was almost out the door! We tell people about the great things we find or experience. We want others to experience them also. We build roads for them to travel on along with us.
         
Should it be any different in our religious life? Yes, religion is far more loaded than burritos. And we want to respect people’s beliefs and not act as if we know it all or have the corner on all truth. That is loving and kind. It is humble. It is appropriate. But surely the God of the universe is worth talking about. Surely the free grace of Jesus Christ – that doesn’t even require two cans of food to get – is worth mentioning once in while. Not by standing out on Library Mall holding a sign naming all the people who are destined for hell – but by building roads. By laying down some rocks in the mud. We don’t bring people to Jesus or Jesus to people. But we can build roads so that a connection might be made. We can pave the way. We can anticipate and prepare for some of the obstacles. We can invite people to travel our roads together. Or maybe as you build a road for someone else – they will build one for you. For even if we have been a Christian our whole life we still need God to meet us each day.
         
So build some roads. There is a lot of need around us. There is a lot of wilderness. People are lonely. They want a community to be a part of. People are looking for meaning. They want something to care about. People are looking for love and forgiveness. They want some hope. People need basic food and health care. They want someone to help and to respect them. The need is different for each person. The Israelites at the time of Isaiah’s writing needed comfort in their exile and passage back to their land. The good news from God to them was that comfort. The people following John the Baptist needed release from oppression and social renewal. The good news from God to them was a new social order brought by Jesus. For all time people have needed a relationship with God and forgiveness of sin. The good news from God to all – is the blood of Christ shed for the forgiveness of sin. We don’t have solutions to people’s need in a little package we can drop off at their doorstep but we can build some roads that prepare the way for Jesus to meet them and to bring them the good news that they need.

There are a lot of obstacles in the way of knowing Christ. That is why we need to build roads. There are distractions, other things to worry about, not enough time, false perceptions about religion, old hurts, poverty and oppression, wealth and greed, human sin – ours and others. There are a lot of obstacles. But most of the time I think we actually create the worst obstacles ourselves. Instead of laying some rocks for a road we dig a pit of mud and fill it with theological or political beliefs that must be agreed to before a person can know God. We put hills of exclusivity in the way in the form of racism or sexism or simply not inviting people into our life or community or church. We break wheels on our expectations of behavior, our biases, our preconceptions of what the Christian life should look like. In short, the biggest obstacle on God’s road into the world might be us. So build roads and then let God travel on them. Let God come to people in the way God intends and let people come to God in the way that is meaningful to them. God wants to meet us and to meet others. To bring good news to all people. Just don’t get in the way.
         
But build something. The rocky roads in Ethiopia were not perfect. They had lots of jagged edges and they took a long time to put together. But they were better than the mud. They worked. The roads we build don’t have to be perfect. If we wait for perfection we will never start. If the farmers in Ethiopia waited for asphalt or concrete in their mountainous villages they wouldn’t get very far. They use what they have around them – stones – and they do the best they can. They aren’t professional contractors. They aren’t engineers at the Department of Transportation. They are just regular people who set out to make a way for life-giving food to get into their communities. The word of God didn’t come to the long list of elite religious and political leaders named at the beginning of the passage in Luke. The word of God came to John – a regular guy wearing camel’s hair and eating locusts. It’s not only preachers or religious leaders who can talk about Jesus or share the good news. It’s not only those with theological training or people who have read the whole Bible who can talk about what God means to them. Anyone can do it. You can do it. You can build roads. Most of the time it is as simple as naming the good news that God has given you. Using the materials around you – the shared experiences, the shared values, the shared vocabulary that is a part of your life – using that to describe your faith. It might take a while. It might be painstaking and rough. But there are people who need to connect with God and you can prepare the way.
         
The weeks leading up to Christmas are the season of Advent. During Advent we are waiting for the birth of Christ. We are preparing for the coming of God. The advent candles, the songs, the scripture passages, the time of reflection – these are all parts of the road we build to prepare for Jesus to come and meet us again. To meet us afresh. To be good news in our lives. Because need roads ourselves. And what a perfect time to build roads for others as well. The Christmas story is truly life giving. More than the hottest Mac or the newest MP3. It is the story of God choosing to love people in the most profound of ways – by taking the form of an infant child who is the salvation of God for all. Love and forgiveness, justice and peace, grace and mercy, comfort and strength, a new social order – Jesus is all of these things for us and the people we know. What a gift worth talking about! What a road worth building!

This sermon marks the beginning of the Advent Season in which we prepare for the birth of Christ. The scripture passages are Jeremiah 33:14-16 and Luke 21:25-36

            My daughter Emma will turn three this January. Lately we have been trying to teach her about time, and how things happen in the past and future. We’re making progress, but still have some limitations. For her, whether something happened a few hours ago, a few days ago, or last year, she calls it yesterday. For example, yesterday she had cereal for breakfast, yesterday she went swimming, and yesterday she was having Christmas at Grammy and Grampy’s house. Well a couple of months ago we told her that she would become a big sister at the end of April. To help her get a sense of when this might happen, we told her that the baby would come after fall, winter, snow, Christmas, her birthday, more snow, spring, and after April. Then the baby would come.

            Having grown up in California, I thought this was a pretty good layout of the seasons ahead, but I forgot to take into account how weather works here in Wisconsin. So when October rolled around and we had our first snowfall, Emma exclaimed, “The baby will be coming soon!” I had to readjust the timeline I had given her by saying that after a very long winter and lots of snow, spring, April, then the baby would finally come.

            As children we are taught to look for signs that tell us about what is going on around us. When the leaves turn colors and fall to the ground, or when the first buds appear in the spring we know that the seasons are changing. Being pregnant, I am constantly reminded by signs in my body that a new life is forming and growing. And when the end of nine months draws near, you can be sure that Mark and I will be looking for symptoms that the baby is coming. These are just a couple of markers designed by nature, but I think we also look for signs in other parts of our lives—when we are trying to decide what college to attend, whom to marry, what job to take, when to retire, when to sell or buy a house. Many of us look around ourselves for confirmation, for some kind of indicator that we are headed on the right path.

            Throughout the Bible, many of the people were also concerned with signs. The Old Testament contains the oracles of many prophets laying out the events by which the people of Israel would know God’s judgment and redemption were coming. In the New Testament there are also passages which detail the things which will happen when the kingdom of God draws near. Learning to discern if the prophecies were true and what they meant was an important matter for the community of faith.

            Today’s scripture lessons are two such examples. The passage from the prophet Jeremiah, speaks about the one who will come to save and redeem Israel. The passage from the Gospel of Luke is Jesus’ foretelling the events which will signal the coming of God’s kingdom and himself as the Son of Man. They are both messages for the community of faith about what they can expect as they wait for God’s action in their lives and world.

            To get a better understanding of Jesus’ words in Luke, it helps to look at the larger Lukan narrative which also includes the Book of Acts. After the disciples have traveled with Jesus witnessing his teachings and miracles, he gives them a warning of what lies ahead. It is by no means an uplifting tale of success and celebration. Rather Jesus tells them that great calamity, violence, and even death await them if they continue to be faithful to him. Not exactly the most optimistic outlook!

            But if we look ahead to the Book of Acts, we will see that after Jesus’ resurrection and departure, the disciples indeed faced many trials. Instead of being a deterrent to following Jesus, the words from Luke served to confirm that Jesus was a trustworthy prophet whose teachings were true. That many of the apostles faced questioning by the Roman government, persecution, and even martyrdom, confirmed that all of what they were going through was not without purpose. Jesus had told them to expect this, and it was a reminder that God was sovereign and remained present with them even in the midst of such suffering. The lesson from Luke is a faith building experience for those who follow Christ because it affirms that the signs Jesus has taught about are signs that God is near. That’s the hope we’re supposed to feel anyway when we hear his words.

            I don’t know about you, but when I read this passage I find myself somewhat resistant and less than encouraged. It’s not so much that I doubt Jesus, it’s more that I don’t particularly like the signs he’s chosen to indicate that the kingdom is near. We didn’t read the whole of chapter 21 in the Gospel of Luke, but let me tell you what other events he said the disciples had to look forward to. The destruction of the temple, earthquakes, famines, plagues, war, persecution, arrest, betrayal by one’s own family members, and murder because of their faith. These were the signals which would mark the nearness of the kingdom of God.

            In my mind, a better precursor would have dwelt less on the apocalyptical nature and more on the celebratory trajectory. How about a spectacular cosmic show in which the sky lights up with dazzling stars, planets, comets, and colors? What if global warming suddenly took a reverse trend and the polar ice caps miraculously were restored? Perhaps the Kurd, Sunni, and Shiite factions in Iraq would lay down their arms and decide that reconciliation was the best course. Israel and Palestine would learn to peacefully coexist, Kim Il Jong would throw open the doors to North Korea, and the genocide in Darfur would not only stop but by some miracle those who were thought slain would be found safe and alive. Yeah, I think if these things were to happen, most of the world really would believe that the kingdom of God was near, because for these things to happen would be absolutely stunning.

            And that’s the rub of this passage. All the things that Jesus has actually listed as signs of the proximity of the kingdom of God are things we can see around us right now. War? Well we’ve certainly got that covered. Famine? We know each day is a struggle to find basic subsistence for too many people in the world. Plagues? AIDS is rampant in Africa and growing in Asia. Family members betraying one another? Sadly, there are too many broken families right here in our own country which leave bleak legacies. I could go on and on, but you get the picture. We can look around us and see many signs which echo what Jesus told his disciples when he gave them clues about how to perceive the kingdom of God. But I will say for myself that they don’t lift up my faith.

            As we enter the Christmas season for another year, the usual routines beckon our attention. The lights, wreaths and decorations go up to signal that the holidays are near. Old family grudges are put aside for this one time of year, because it’s what the Christmas spirit calls for. Many who live in denial of others’ suffering, whether intentional or not, remember that people are hungry and in need, so they pull out their extra resources to give. All the flurry of energy is directed at achieving, if even for just one day, a semblance of peace on earth where all have what they need and maybe a bit more. It is ironic that as we draw closer to the time to celebrate the birth of Christ, the coming of the kingdom of God, we do everything we can to suppress and erase the signs by which he told us he would be coming.

            In fact, when Jesus first entered our world, the events which preceded his arrival were much more along the vein of the 21^st chapter of Luke. There was the indiscriminate massacre of young, Jewish infant boys. Joseph had to overcome what appeared to be a major betrayal by his fiancé and surely a shameful situation. Mary, nine months pregnant, in labor, and clearly in need of a place to rest, did not receive the charity of anyone but was instead turned away by the innkeepers. When Jesus finally made his entrance into the world, it was not surrounded by adoring family members but by smelly animals who probably wanted the newborn out of their trough so they could eat. The coming of Jesus the first time around was remarkably similar to what he said the second coming would be like—full of terror, unrest, and general despair.

            And yet this is how we are taught to perceive the nearness of the kingdom of God. It seems counter-intuitive to all our usual preparations for the birth of Jesus. I look forward to Christmas for precisely the opposite events that Jesus lays out for his disciples. I would rather mark his birthday with celebrations, feasts of food, and a general sense of well-being and peace with my family and the world—even if it’s just for one day. But we are challenged to reframe our understanding of how we perceive the kingdom of God, of how to take in the signs that Jesus has given us which indicate his proximity.

            When day after day we hear of the mounting death toll in the Middle East, we might begin to wonder where God is in all of this. The natural disasters which seem to regularly devastate the earth and its defenseless inhabitants might cause us to question God’s concern for us. Experiencing pain and suffering in our own lives can sometimes make us feel like God is quite absent. The calamitous events which wreak havoc in our world often lead people to conclude that there is no loving God who cares for them. These signs, they would claim, are all the evidence needed to prove that God is nowhere to be found.

            The scriptures, however, tell us a different story. What is so remarkable is that Jesus named these events, these very hard realities which he knew we would face. He chose signs that we would recognize, situations that we could readily identify. Like the parable of the fig tree whose leaves tell us that summer is near, war, famine, plagues, earthquakes, and strife among people tell us that the kingdom of God is near. It is not that God is making these horrible events happen, rather Jesus knowing the broken state we live in reminds us that he is indeed present amidst the chaos. We do not take comfort in the fact that evil and suffering are happening, but we do find hope and faith that God has told us what will happen and still remains with us. The final word is that the kingdom of God, Jesus, is near us even when all appearances may suggest something otherwise.

            So, are you looking for a sign? Look beyond the traditional ones that we use to celebrate our more peaceful version of the birth of Christ. The feasts of food, decorations galore, presents wrapped, and charity among strangers—these are all good things but they are temporary lights as the dark winter drags on. According to the scriptures, if we look for the signs which Jesus told us about, they are all around us all the time. And while they may cause us pain, heartache, and grief, we do not give in to despair. Like children who must grow up and learn that life is difficult, we too grow in our faith journeys as we maintain our hope when we are surrounded by the distress of the world. We do not lose heart, nor do we succumb to denial or cynicism; we do hold onto true hope as we put our faith in the Prince of Peace who will bring redemption to us beyond the one day we try to make it happen. Our ultimate hope and faith rests in Jesus who has promised to be with us—that is reason to rejoice.

This week our daughter Emma came home from daycare with a bag of things. One of the things in the bag was a gift from “her” to Erica and I. It is a mouse pad with her picture on it and it says, “Merry Christmas, Love Emma.” The other thing was a coloring booklet for the holiday season. In it are explanations of three different holidays – Kwanzaa, Hanukah, and Christmas. I looked over them to see what the kids are learning about the different holidays and learned a thing or two myself. The Christmas explanation included a description of a lot of the usual customs. Christmas trees, songs, candy canes, Santa Claus and of course giving presents. These are all things that I love about Christmas and grew up enjoying. What struck me about the explanation of Christmas in Emma’s coloring booklet was that it made absolutely no mention of Jesus Christ. No mention of the very person that the holiday is named after.

Now I recognize that we live in a pluralist society. People believe in a wide variety of religions, philosophies and ideologies. I do not agree with those who have been complaining that President Bush sent a card out that said Happy Holidays or those that boycott stores because they don’t play Christmas carols on the overhead speakers. It is perfectly appropriate for the Bush family to send out a neutral holiday card or for Emma’s daycare provider to hand out religiously neutral coloring books. A commentator on NPR said recently, “If you want your kids to learn about Jesus at Christmas take them to church not to the mall.” But reading a full page explanation of Christmas in Emma’s color book that didn’t contain a single reference to Jesus Christ made me stop and pause. What is the meaning of Christmas? If we go to church will we even learn about the meaning of Christmas? And if so it is just to simply say the cliché phrase – “Jesus is the reason for the season.”? And what does that even mean?!

So I set out to think about what that means. What Christmas means to me and why it is important. And I am going to share a few of those thoughts with you today. Some of this may get a little theological but try to stay with me because it is incredible stuff.

On the face of it, it seems pretty simple. Jesus was born on Christmas. And we celebrate his birth. We have since added all kinds of so called pagan or secular traditions like Christmas trees. But basically Christmas marks the birth of Christ.

The early church didn’t think it was so simple though. In fact they argued for centuries; centuries! About the meaning of Christ’s birth. Look at the words of the Nicene Creed which was written in 325 to try and settle massive controversies within the early church about Jesus. The words in yellow are in some way related to Christmas. They speak about Jesus’ birth and what that means. We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father; through him all things were made. For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven, was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary and became truly human.

Two weeks ago I talked about how crazy the Christmas story is and how it raises all kinds of questions and doubts in my mind. And here is why. This creed is saying something crazy about what happened on Christmas. God was born as a human being. God was incarnate as a person. A tiny Jewish infant. That is nuts. No wonder Emma’s color book didn’t mention this aspect of Christmas and stuck to Christmas trees and presents!

But that is the claim. God became a human being. John 1:14 is the summary statement about what Christmas truly means. John 1:14  ⁴ And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth. This is an amazing statement. The Word which was God became flesh (a human being) and dwelt among us! How could that be? God became a person? No wonder the early church called all kinds of conferences and meetings to discuss and argue about the meaning of such a statement. Did God hide in a human body? Did God have sex with Mary and produce some kind of half breed? Was Jesus actually just an amazing guy but not really God? These were all questions that you might have asked – and they are also questions that the early church wrestled with for centuries!

So here is what they came up with: Jesus Christ was fully God and fully human. And this is what the Christian church all over the world has claimed for the most part over the last 2000 years and what I believe to be the real story of Christmas. Jesus was truly God, not just a holy, spiritual man. And Jesus was a real man, not God pretending to be a person. The Holy Spirit was not the “father” of Jesus and Mary the mother. This is a very different story than the Greek myths where gods come to earth and impregnate human women.

I am not going to stand up here and tell you that it is easy to believe that Jesus was fully God AND fully human. Nor am I going to explain how such a thing can be. But I will say that I believe it is the real story of Christmas.

So what difference does it make? Who cares if we say that Jesus was God incarnate – that he was fully God and fully human. So what? What does this Christmas story have to do with us? Why not just stick to a Christmas based on lights, foliage and colorful paper?

I believe that makes a big difference. The Christmas story describes a fundamental reality about God and human beings that impacts all aspects of our lives. And it is ultimately an incredible message of hope. There are three significant ways that the Christmas story is important to me. That God becoming human makes a difference. The first is that the world and our lives matter to God. Our lives have value – every part of them. The second is that in becoming human Jesus Christ made way for our salvation and redeemed our sinful and broken humanity. And the third is that the incarnation continues to happen today, in and through us, as often as we let it.

***

Sometimes it seems that life is meaningless. Things happen that simply do not make sense. People are cells and chemicals full of wacky emotions and irrationality. And so much of life is tragic. One evening, a couple of days ago a young man, 26 years old, from Middleton was doing some renovation work in the basement of a house. He told his fiancé that he was going to be home soon but when he never arrived she began to get worried. She called the police and finally hours later they found the house where he was doing the work. They went inside and discovered a truly tragic scene. The young man had been using a gas-powered machine to do his work and the carbon monoxide emissions killed him. The family who had hired him came home and unknowingly went to bed. The police found all three of them unconscious in their own beds and near the point of death. The young man had made a mistake. A simple but very serious mistake. This young man was a friend of someone I know well and it has been devastating for those who knew him. There is really only one word I can use to describe this event: Tragic. Tragic. And often that is what life is like.

But God chose to humble Godself and enter into our tragic world. God showed up in real life. God invaded the real world that we live in – not to help us escape it but to meet us in it. Jesus was born as a child. And I can tell you that birth is a messy thing. There is a lot of screaming, sweat, and blood. Jesus had to have his diaper changed. He had to grow up, learn new things. He got hungry, tired, sick and sad. And he was born into a particular place and time. He was born a Jewish child. Poor – marginalized. Hardly the way you would expect to find God enter the world.

Yet that is what is so amazing about Christmas. God is not a concept. Not a philosophy or ideology. Not an idea or a truth. Not love in some generic sense. God is love in a very particular sense. As a real being who entered into the real world that we live in. The barrier between the spiritual and physical was broken. The distinction between sacred and secular is blurred. I don’t believe that there is such a thing as Christian music and non-Christian music. Or Christian art and non-Christian art. Or Christian books and non-Christian books. At least not in any easily defined sense. God became human. The sacred and secular were inseparable in Jesus Christ. Even dirty diapers can be holy!

I hope this encourages you as you take finals. The work you do here at UW has meaning. Some of the stuff you study might not seem to but the life you are living as a student does. It matters. It matters so much that God chose to enter it. The InterVarsity graduate group that meets here at Pres House recently bought shirts that say “Everything Matters.” I like that. That is one of the things we learn from Christmas. From God becoming human in Jesus Christ. Everything Matters.

But God didn’t come into the world just to join us in our lives. He came to redeem the brokenness. Jesus entered into our human condition. He took on all aspects of what it means to be human including being tempted to sin. This is important because when we talk about Jesus saving us from our sin that can happen because God took on the fullness of humanity. God doesn’t save us from afar but from within our lives. When we read Jesus’ words in the bible they are words from God. When Jesus forgives people in the stories it is God forgiving them. When Jesus sides with the poor and oppressed it is God siding with the poor. And when Jesus dies on the cross it is God dying on the cross. So Christmas relates in a critical way to Easter. Jesus birth and death are intimately connected. When Jesus died on the cross it wasn’t just any man dying. Lots of people have died horrible deaths that are at least as bad or even worse than Jesus’ crucifixion. Lots of people have been martyred for various reasons. But none of those people can save us from our predicament as sinners.  No amount of human suffering or bloodshed can redeem us from our brokeness.

 But Jesus wasn’t just any person. He was God incarnate. It was God who took on the human condition, sin and all, and went to the cross. In the death of Jesus our sin and the punishment we deserve for it died also. And when Jesus rose from the dead it wasn’t any person being resurrected. It was God. In the resurrection of Jesus death was defeated for everyone once and for all.

It may seem like I have strayed a long way from Christmas but the incarnation – God becoming human in Jesus Christ - has a profound impact on our relationship with God. In the light of the Christmas candles we see an eternal salvation that is made possible through the incarnate God. This is a salvation that begins now. In our lives today. God is remaking our world. We are not just saved for life after death but for the fullness of life now.

And we are partners with God in making that happen. This is my third point. God wants to use us to bring about the fullness of life for others. As I have been saying Jesus was not just any human being but a special person. Theologians in fact call him “the” human being. Because he was fully God and fully human he was the true expression of what humanity is without the corruption of sin. And that true expression is an amazing example. We learn from Jesus what it means to really love people – even our enemies. We learn to care for the poor, the marginalized, widows and orphans. We learn to heal and protect as much as possible. We learn to give and we learn to lay down our lives for others. But one of the most important things we learn from Christ is not based on what he did but who he was. We learn how to meet people where they are at. How to become incarnate ourselves.

I don’t mean that we become gods or are re-incarnated as some kind of other creature or person. No, what I mean is that Jesus shows us the importance of joining people in their situation. God didn’t just send people information or a pamphlet on how to be saved or live a good life. No – God entered into our situation as one of us. The Christian faith is not based on ideas, theological concepts or religious ceremonies. It is based on a person. A person who showed up when we needed it most.  And we have an opportunity to do something similar in other people’s lives. To show up. To be present when they need us. And to meet them where they are at. That is at the most basic level what the incarnation is about. Showing up. Just as God joined us in our human condition we are called to join others in their situation.

When I want to really play with Emma and have her play with me I have to get down on the floor with her or pick her up in my arms. That is the only way I can look her in the face when she is 2 ½ feet tall and I am 6 ft tall. That is the only way she can climb on me and play with me. That is the only way we can share a toy together. You might have seen Jonathan do this here in the chapel after service. He gets down on the floor with Emma to play with her. And she loves it. In a way Jonathan is becoming incarnate as a child so he can meet Emma where she is at.

I learned about the value of showing up through an interesting experience some years ago. When I was in college Erica and I spent time one evening per week on the streets of Berkeley with homeless people. We would simply take a thermos of hot chocolate out on the street, offer it to people we met and talk with them. During the course of this time I began to hear stories about a book store that was notorious for treating homeless people poorly. Then the city began cracking down on them and enacting laws specifically targeting homeless so they could arrest them. The owner of the bookstore was a major force in pushing for these laws. They made a law that stated you couldn’t have two dogs within ten feet of each other – that way they could arrest the homeless who sat on the street with dogs. In one night over 90 people were arrested for that and other such crimes. Erica and I heard about a protest that was going to be staged at the bookstore. So we decided to go. We were the only Christians at the protest. And the people there were shocked to see us because they never expected Christians to actually join them on the street like that. To come out of the churches and soup kitchens into their lives. It was a powerful experience for them and for us. And it happened because we chose to become incarnate. To simply join them in their struggle. We didn’t do anything besides stand on a street corner for about an hour. And I had no idea what kind of impact it would have for us to show up. But our presence in the lives of people who were being mistreated was what mattered. We showed up.

You do this all the time with your friends. When a friend is in need you sit by them in their room or talk to them on the phone. You help them get to the toilet to puck when are drunk or you listen when they are stressed with schoolwork. And most of the time all it takes is to show up. To just be there. Facebook, Friendster and My Space all help you keep in touch with your friends. But they don’t take the place of actually being with them. Sometimes you have to be there. In person. And meet you friends where they are at. You have to become incarnate.

I suspect you might have a chance to become incarnate over the semester break. Perhaps with family or friends that you are visiting. Don’t just sit on the couch and watch TV or wait for your mom to feed you. Take the chance to join your family in their lives. Listen to what is going on for them. Meet them where they are at. It might be annoying and it might push all your buttons but give it a try. Don’t bring a present home for Christmas but neglect to bring yourself.

Everyday we have a chance to participate in the work of Christmas. God became a human on that mysterious night. Fully human while still being fully God. And that is a marvelous and hope-filled truth. Because our lives matter to God. All parts of our lives matter to God. And we are given a full earthly and eternal life though the love and grace of that came into the world Christmas night. So let’s share that love and grace by joining other people in their world. Just as God demonstrated that our lives matter by showing up – we do them same when we are there for other people.

I am not surprised that all of this doesn’t appear on Emma’s coloring book. But if I were to re-write that book for myself and for this community I might add a subtitle to the page: "Christmas – Showing Up." Because in the end that is what the incarnation, and Christmas is really about. God showing up for us. And us showing up for others.

Luke 1:39-55

I have a confession to make. I am not really prepared to give you a sermon this evening. Mark and I talked about doing this Advent series a few months ago, and I had many good intentions of studying and preparing well—after all, that is my calling here, to be a Minister of the Word and Sacrament. Advent is a season that’s all about preparation and waiting—instead, I feel like this month of December has come faster at me than I can handle and all I’m waiting for is a break from the frenzy. Maybe you feel a bit of this with finals looming and the holidays coming.

I spent this past week thinking about the fact that I needed to prepare this sermon, but not actually writing it. I knew that I wanted to share about Mary’s Song, this amazing hymn to God in the first chapel of the gospel of Luke. I had many musings on Mary, but my thoughts were scattered and I never was able to really focus myself and give God the space in my life to speak to me—or rather, I wasn’t able to quiet my mind so that I could hear how God was speaking. Quite the opposite of Mary, who heard very clearly exactly what God was going to do in her life and in response sang this eloquent song.

Mary was a young virgin, who had the angel Gabriel visit her and tell her the most amazing and unbelievable news—she was going to conceive a child by the Holy Spirit who she would name Jesus, and he would be the Son of God who would be king of all peoples. Though the bible tells us she was perplexed, she didn’t argue or even say that this was impossible. I could think of a million reasons of why I would have objected to the angel. Like excuse me, but I’m a virgin. Or, hey Gabriel, have you noticed all the Roman troops who occupy half the world? And did you get the right person, because I’m not exactly of royal lineage here.

But Mary didn’t say any of those things, she simply said, “Let it be so,” and pondered over what Gabriel had said to her. This story may be so familiar to you that it has lost some of its strange or amazing character. There may be very little space in your life to soak in what this event means. Preparing space for God to enter into our world is what Advent is all about, and yet it seems that many of the activities that surround this holiday season conspire against making space for much of anything except frenetic running around.

I know that this is the case for me. Making space for God to enter in is very difficult for me, especially during this time of year. Perhaps Mary had it easier, since God literally took up physical space in her body. Watching her growing belly and feeling the child inside of her move would be a daily reminder of how God was transforming her life. When I was pregnant with Emma, almost every single moment was a conscious reminder that I was making space for a new person in my life. During the first few months, I was so sick that all I could do was alternate between lying on the bed and the couch. I had planned on doing a three month internship at a hospital, but I was forced to withdraw from the program and simply wait while Emma began her new life in me.

Then came the next few months, when sickness turned into constant hunger. I thought I was going to enjoy being able to eat all I want, but I actually found myself annoyed because I was always hungry. I would spend my day trying to figure out what I was going to feed this new being growing inside of me. The final months were a physical reminder to everyone around me, who could not miss my huge belly that represented Emma’s space in my life. I couldn’t wash the dishes or brush my teeth without getting myself all wet because she took so much space. I couldn’t sleep at night because she liked to do gymnastics around 3 in the morning. Beyond the physical ways that she was taking space in me, all the space in my mind, heart, and soul were also devoted to the anticipation of Emma making her entrance into the world. I imagine that Mary was full of anticipation as she waited for the Son of God to be born through her into the world.

Even though there was no such thing as the Christmas season when Mary was pregnant with Jesus, making space for God was also difficult back then. In her final month of her pregnancy, Mary had to make the long trip to Bethlehem with Joseph for a census. Unfortunately she went into labor during their trip. At the inn on whose door they knocked, the keepers were too busy with their full rooms to make space for a laboring woman, about to give birth to the Son of God. Even though God was on their doorstep, they were running around and so frantic with activity that they were unable to see God asking for space in their lives. Instead there was a big, “No Vacancy” sign on their door. And so the first creatures to greet Jesus were the animals of the stable, wondering what a little newborn baby was doing in their feeding trough.

Making space for God. This was exactly what I was unable to do this past week, and in all honesty, much of the year. With all my running around, I too had a “No Vacancy” sign posted in my life. I was too busy writing Christmas cards, planning for a party, figuring out gifts, checking e-mail, thinking about what I should say in a sermon—too busy to make space for God to enter into my heart. But whether or not I make space for God to enter into my heart, God comes. That is what Christmas is about, God entering into our world—ready or not, here God comes.

And so today, ready or not, and I must say I’m more unready than anything, I am here to preach. But as I myself have not made adequate space for God to enter into my life, I have very little to offer you. What I do offer you are three ways in which I have been impacted this past week by the fact that I have not made room for God to fully enter into my heart. Three ways, global, local, and personal.

First. A friend of mine from seminary visited us this past July. She was on her way to training in Chicago to be a part of the Christian Peacemaker Teams. Part of the philosophy of this group is that one must train for peace as one trains for war. So she spent over a month in boot camp to be a peacemaker. And then this fall she headed to Iraq.

Some of you may have heard on the news about four people who were members of the Christian Peacemaker Team in Iraq. They were kidnapped two weeks ago in Baghdad, and yesterday was the deadline the kidnappers gave for U.S. and Iraqi officials to meet their demands—otherwise they said they would execute the four CPT members. Ironically, the CPT members have been risking their lives for the very people the kidnappers are demanding be released. My friend is not one of the members who was kidnapped, she returned just a month before this happened. But it is clear to me that she easily could have been one of those whose fate we now wait to hear about, to learn whether or not these four Christians have sacrificed their lives for their Iraqi brothers and sisters.

Whether or not you support the war in Iraq, I think ultimately everyone’s desire is for there to be peace. The Israelites were waiting for a Savior to come to them and restore peace and justice in their land. When Jesus finally did come, it was not in glory and power and might—it was as a newborn baby, witnessed only by a handful of shepherds and wise men. He spent his life granting healing, forgiveness, and giving hope. But ultimately he laid down his life for the people he came for. He was not speaking hypothetically or theoretically when he said, “Love your enemies.”

Hearing this ongoing story about the CPT members in Iraq has challenged me these past two weeks. I am challenged because it seems trite for me to say, “Peace on earth,” when I make no space in my life for God to enter in and use me for means of peace. It’s easier for me to stay frantic with all of my activity. I ran across a quote from Dorothy Day just this week that made me quite uncomfortable:

"It is not love in the abstract that counts. Men have loved a cause as they have loved a woman. They have loved the brotherhood, the workers, the poor, the oppressed - but they have not loved [humanity]; they have not loved the least of these. They have not loved "personally." It is hard to love. It is the hardest thing in the world, naturally speaking. Have you ever read Tolstoy's Resurrection? He tells of political prisoners in a long prison train, enduring chains and persecution for the love of their brothers, ignoring those same brothers on the long trek to Siberia. It is never the brothers right next to us, but the brothers in the abstract that are easy to love."

I’m better at making space for ideas of God rather than making space for the grace of God to enter in and actually transform me. With ideas, it’s easier to keep doing all that I normally do, to not change anything about my life. If I make room in my life for the God of the universe to enter in, who knows what will happen? It’s risky business making space for God and I think that’s one of the reasons I choose to stay busy.

            Second way I have not made space for God. One of the benefits of being a pastor at Pres House is our amazing location. From my office, I have a great view of Library Mall, and often I sit at my desk watching all the activity going on. In fact, that’s what I did this past week when I was trying to write a sermon for today. We have a great location and wonderful space in this building to worship God and fellowship together. Lots of different groups use space in this building during the week because of its great location.

            Another circumstance of our location is the many homeless people we have coming through our doors. This past month, with this early and frigid winter, there have been many requests for help and people coming indoors to escape the harsh elements outside. I wish I could say we have been able to house all the people who have come through, give them something to eat, and send them away with warm clothing—but we haven’t. The irony of my situation hasn’t escaped me. Here I am, busy serving God by doing ministry with college students—and here are Joe and Mary at my doorstep asking for a room in my inn. Each day I turn them away, saying I have no space. It is a vivid reminder of how I am not making space for God to enter in.

            Third and finally—lest you think I didn’t have any thoughts on Mary’s Song! Part of what has made Mary’s song so difficult for me, is because it is a song from a person who recognizes her need for God. Mary was of lowly status and humble circumstances. She was not a person of power in her society, and she belonged to a people who were oppressed by the Roman Empire. And her song is a song about reversals. The low are brought high, the high brought low, the hungry are fed, the rich sent away empty handed and the proud scattered in their thoughts. This is a song in which the lowliest are met in their need by God.

            So why is that difficult? Because during this Christmas season, it’s hard to see our need for God. With all the gifts exchanging hands, generous hearts pouring forth to the ringing bells & buckets, family traditions, and many other activities, life seems pretty full. Who needs God? We have Santa, Christmas trees, feasts of food, tons of presents, vacations, acts of charity just for this season, and a bit of space for God during the Christmas Eve service in a cozy church building. Who needs God except as a decorative addition to all the holiday festivities? A nice looking nativity scene and plenty of material things work to keep us too busy to make space for God to enter in, to even recognize our need for God to come into our hearts. In fact, much of the flurry of activity surrounding Christmas involves efforts towards denying that we are in need of anything. We buy presents people don’t need, and to those who are usually in need we give this one time a year. We approach the 25^th of December as people who have plenty, buying things left and right, and do our very best to make sure no one has any need on Christmas Day.

            But Mary’s song comes from a person who recognizes her need for God, her need for a Savior. She doesn’t have so many material things and activities going on in her life, taking up the space that only God can appropriately fill. Her song speaks about a promise of hope and restoration to the broken world she lives in, about the space God has taken in her life. The space that she prepares in her life is in anticipation of God coming to bring about a reversal of the way things are, to lift up those who are low, and to humble those who think they have no need for God.

            This season of Advent also coincides with the crunch of finals and the mad rush to take care of everything before the year ends. It is a season in our society when making space for anything not on our schedule of priorities doesn’t happen. But God comes, regardless if we prepare the space or not. Sometimes God comes in unexpected form, like Mary at the door of the innkeepers. As we approach the celebration marking the entrance of God into our world, do we know how deeply we need God? Let us clear some space in our lives so we can find out.

For the next three weeks we are in the period of Lent. On these three Sundays Erica and I will be sharing some reflections with you in the form of sermons. This doesn’t mean that discussion can’t or won’t happen. It just means it will happen in other contexts – during dinner, during discussion group or bible reading, amongst yourselves or with us during the week.

So what is Advent? Most simply it is preparing for Christmas. Not by buying presents or playing Christmas music – although those are fun things to do. We are preparing to remember the birth of Jesus Christ. If you grew up in a Christian home or lived in a predominantly Christian town you are probably familiar with this season. And maybe even the stories of Jesus birth.

I have heard the story of Christ’s birth so many times that I now take it for granted. But when I step back and look at it with a critical eye I find it extraordinary. Outrageous, even unbelievable. I mean just think about this for a second – a baby is born to a woman who never had sex. A star stops right over the place of his birth. Wise men come from miles away guided by the star to bring gifts to a baby lying in an animal’s feedbox. The king at time kills all infants around Bethlehem because he is scared of this tiny child. This tiny child is in fact God himself. God incarnate. God born as a human being. And did I mention that Jesus born to a virgin!? The story seems unbelievable. Why would anyone put their faith in such a crazy thing? It raises all kinds of questions and doubts in my mind.

But who are we to question God?  Have you heard people say that? “You cannot be a real Christian and have doubts about your faith. If you have doubts about Jesus you either need to pray harder, stop some doing some horrible sin that is keeping you away from God – or both. If you just believe that Jesus Christ is your Lord and Savior then you are saved. You are going to heaven and everything will work out okay. It is just that simple. And who are you to question God anyways? You, a meager human being, who are you to question the God who created the world, who made you in your mother’s womb and gave you your very life. Read John 3:16, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

If God loves us that much – how can we doubt that Jesus really rose from the dead?  If all that we have is a gift from God – how we can doubt that God cares about us?  If God created this beautiful world we live in, the sun to warm us and the rain to quench our thirst – how – can we doubt that God even exists?  If God is so great that he knows all us intimately – How can we question God?

***

And yet we do.  Despite all our best efforts at trusting in God – we do. We question – and we doubt.

When we lose a loved one in inexplicable tragedy - we question God.  When terrorists blow up innocent people, governments bomb each other, hurricanes destroy thousands of homes, and people starve to death every day - we get angry with God.  When the findings of science seem to contradict our faith - we question.  And when we read philosophy and study other religions that are full of such rich wisdom but don’t mention Jesus at all – we doubt. When our prayers go unanswered or nothing in day our can possibly go right – we wonder where God is. When our expectations of God are not fulfilled - we question what God is up to. I could go on and on. There are a million reasons to question God – and many of them good ones.

So I for one am thankful that there is precedence for questioning in the Bible. And questioning by one of the most unlikely of people.  John the Baptist had direct contact with Jesus from the beginning of his ministry.  John was the one who boldly proclaimed that Jesus was coming to baptize with the Holy Spirit and that he, John, was not even worthy to carry the sandals of this one who was coming. At the beginning of Jesus ministry it was John who declares Jesus as the Messiah.  He was even present when a voice from heaven announced that Jesus was God’s beloved Son. How much more proof could you ask for?

Here in Matthew 11, however, John doesn’t sound as confident as he did earlier. He sends messengers to Jesus to ask him, “Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"  The same John who confidently proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah is beginning to doubt and question if Jesus really is that Messiah. 

When we look at John’s expectations of Jesus we begin to understand why he isn’t so sure anymore.  John expected Jesus to come as a judge and king restoring glory to Israel.  John says of Jesus in Matthew 3:12, “¹² His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire." Jesus should be separating and judging the wicked but instead he is doing works of compassion. John has heard in prison about the works of compassion Jesus is doing.  Jesus is not acting as judge but is healing the sick, raising the dead, and preaching good news to the poor. The fact that John is in prison probably just adds fuel to his fire of doubt. If Jesus is the Messiah who has come to judge the wicked then why is John, a righteous man, imprisoned by wicked men?? This isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he proclaimed the coming of the Messiah. I can hear him saying, “Why has Jesus not defeated my captors?  Why am I still stuck here in prison?  My enemies will rejoice when I am killed in this place. Where are you God?” 

So now despite the fact that John has heard a voice from heaven proclaiming Jesus as the Son of God he is beginning to doubt. His bold proclamation of the coming Messiah has turned into a burning question. But who is John, unfit to even carry Jesus’ sandals, to question Jesus?

If I was in Jesus’ position I might have responded like that to John’s question.  Who are you, to question me, the Son of God?  You are the messenger – and now you doubt me?? Yet Jesus does not respond this way.  Jesus is bigger than John’s doubts and questions.  Jesus can handle John’s doubts.  Jesus is not threatened by John’s questions.

And thank God - Jesus is bigger than our doubts. 

Jesus response to John’s question in this text offers us three insights into the way God responds to our questions and doubts.

The first insight comes out of what Jesus does NOT say to John.  It is striking that Jesus does not rebuke John for his doubt.  He is not angered by the question nor does he attack John for his lack of faith.  John’s honest question is not threatening to Jesus.  Jesus answers John calmly and with sensitivity. 

Often we think it is wrong to doubt. But the Bible is full of stories of people questioning God.  Job questions God about the tragedies that have happened to him.  He lost his family, his livelihood and even his health and he cries out to God asking why.  The author of Ecclesiastes wonders if anything is meaningful in life at all.  The various authors of the psalms cry out to God and wonder why God does not seem to answer. In our text today, John is in prison and he questions why Jesus is not bringing judgment against evil. 

John is honestly and earnestly seeking answers.  He is not asking the question to try and trick Jesus.  He is not trying to obstruct what Jesus is doing.  He is not testing Jesus - but is seeking an answer for his confusion.  We can take comfort in the fact that we are free to honestly wrestle with tough questions.  God wants us to bring all that we are before him.  We can be real with God and honest with our questions.

The second insight comes from what Jesus DOES say in response to John’s question.  Does he make a clear argument that he is the Messiah?  No, he does not.  Does he offer additional proof for John?  No, he does not.  Jesus doesn’t even answer John’s question directly with a yes or a no.  All Jesus does is send John’s disciples back with instructions to tell John about deeds that John already knows about. 

John already knows what Jesus has been doing, he heard about these deeds in prison. Yet all Jesus offers him as an answer to the question is the same list of deeds John already knows about.  John’s question is not resolved. How frustrating!! He is not given an answer that puts his doubt to rest or answers his questions. 

I like stories to be resolved.  When I see a movie or read a book that is not resolved at the end I feel unsettled.  Often I spend the next couple of days thinking about the story and considering different ways it could have ended.  This is especially true if I expected or hoped for the story to end a certain way and it doesn’t.

I experienced this kind of feeling the first time I watched the movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.  In the middle of the movie the audience learns about a legend of a young man who jumped off of a mountain to save his ill parents.  By jumping off the mountain his wish for his parents to be healed is granted.  He doesn’t die or get hurt jumping off but just floats away knowing his parents are now well.  At the end of the movie one of the main characters, Jen, is reunited with the man she loves at the top of this same mountain.  I expected and hoped that she would now live happily ever after, thus resolving the conflict and tragedy of the movie.  Instead - she jumps off the mountain just like the young man in the legend.  The movie ends with her falling down through the clouds.  We don’t learn what it was she wished for or if she wished for anything at all.  We don’t learn if her wish came true.  We are not even really sure why she jumps off the mountain instead of remaining with the one she loves.  The movie ends unresolved.  When the movie ended and the lights came up I felt confused and unsettled.  My questions were not resolved in the way I would have liked. 

And yet after thinking more about Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon I have come to appreciate the complexity of the story. It is the questions one is left with that makes the story so full of life and passion.  Unresolved questions are not something to be afraid of.  Jesus response to John in this story is not just annoying or disappointing - there is actually hope in what he says. Jesus sees no need to answer yes or no to John’s question.  He points John back to the deeds of compassion that he has done.  These deeds were not what John expected, yet they are what Jesus came to do in this world.  Often God does the same with us.  When we question why God is not acting as we had expected He reminds us of the deeds that he has done in our lives or in the lives others.  God asks for a step of faith that we trust his work in our lives.

The author Philip Yancey describes doubt as a skeleton upon which we build our faith.  He says that doubt is, “not something to hide or fear, but a hard structure on which living tissue may grow.” A human body does not exist without an underlying skeleton.  In the same way, a life of faith will include times of doubt.  Doubt is an integral part of faith.  Being a follower of Christ does not mean that we never question or doubt.  We do not need to receive satisfying answers to all of our questions in order to put our faith in Jesus. A life of faith can feel like an unresolved movie at times – all our questions are not answered, but the story captures our imagination and we leap into a new and exciting journey of the unexpected.

The third insight is seen in Jesus’ words in Matthew 11:7-11.

Jesus affirms that John is a great prophet despite his question.  Not only does Jesus not rebuke John for his doubt but he tells the crowds gathered that John is the greatest man born of women.  Even as one who doubts - John is considered great. And a prophet.

Prophets, ministers and preachers are not free from doubt.  Yes that’s right, I am not free from doubt. Erica might be but I am not.  If I had waited for all my doubts to go away or for all my questions to be answered I would never have become a pastor. In fact the number of question I have only increased over three years of seminary education instead of going away. We do not need to be free from doubt in order to serve God.  John began to doubt in the midst of being a prophet.  God will use us in the midst our doubts and affirms that we can indeed be great servants while still questioning.  Sometimes our questioning is actually essential to be effective servants of God.  As people who question and freely admit our doubt we are better able to share our faith experience with others who also question.  In our questioning we are in honest communication with God and experience the fullness of a dynamic relationship with Jesus Christ.

So if my message isn’t clear yet -- questions and doubt are okay – we can be faithful follwers of Christ in the midst of doubts and questions. Jesus does not rebuke us when we honestly seek answers to our questions.  Jesus may not give us direct answers to our but points us back to what he has done in our life.  And we are used by God even in the midst of our doubts.  Doubt and uncertainty is part of the human condition. 

Frederick Buechner says, “Without somehow destroying me in the process, how could God reveal himself in a way that would leave no room for doubt?  If there were no room for doubt, there would be no room for me.”

We don’t have to be afraid of questions.  Jesus is not afraid of our questions.  The church might be, your parents might be, your friends might be, you might even be afraid of your own questions. But God isn’t God is bigger than you doubts.  God can handle your questions.

So as we wait expectantly for the coming of Christ at Christmas let us rejoice, that like John, we can be real with God, pouring out our doubts and our questions to a God who hears us, loves us, and uses us in the midst of our uncertainty. Perhaps you don’t know what to think about the 10 commandments we have been talking about the past few weeks. Or you aren’t exactly sure what communion is all about. Or you don’t feel sure that you agree with all the words to the songs we sing. And if the Christmas story brings up more questions than it answers – okay. That is okay.

It is precisely because God created you and knows you intimately that you can question God.  It is because God loves you so much with a love that will not fade no matter what you do that you can question God.  It is because God sent his only beloved Son on Christmas night that you can question God. Those realities don’t prohibit – but allow and encourage questioning. So with hope and joy and in the fellowship of this community we place our faith in Jesus Christ even while asking difficult questions.