You've been alone long enough - Christmas Day at Redeemer Episcopal Church

 John 1:1-14

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

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.

You can read my sermon below or listen to it at this link.

Let us pray. God of light and life, be with us on this Christmas morning as we remember the ridiculousness of your love and our part in this story. Amen. 

The story of Christmas doesn’t make any sense. I think we have become quite immune to the ridiculousness of this story because we hear it every year. We know this story by heart. It is at the core of who we are as Christians. In fact, we probably know it better and can picture it in our minds more completely than even Holy Week and Easter morning. After all, the birth of Jesus is the beginning of time as we understand it. And the more familiar we are with a story, the more normal it becomes to us. 

But this story is anything but normal. The way that John tells it in his gospel account is much more like poetry than the narrative we hear in Luke about shepherds and Mary and Joseph… in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… 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 story is ridiculous. That God— almighty and all-powerful God would give up God’s mortality to become human. And not JUST human, but a human baby, into a family of a virgin young woman and her fiancé. It doesn’t make any logical sense. And yet… here we are, 2021 years later, telling this story again. And here we are… hearing this story again, in a new year, with fresh ears. But the same story. 

It makes little sense that after all that had happened in the history of creation and God’s people that God would still choose to become a human and live among us. I mean, God had sent prophets and kings and all sorts of incredible people to  To us, the incarnation seems illogical and impractical. Who are we to deserve our God come walk among us, wash our feet, and dine with us? 

The story is almost as unbelievable as some of the others we tell around Christmas time. 

If you know anything about our family, you will know that we watch a lot of children’s movies. This season, we have watched the new animated movie Dr. Seuss’s The Grinch over and over again. It’s worth it— it’s hilarious— so I highly recommend it. 

I would imagine that most of us know the story of The Grinch— it, too, is a story that has been told over and over again. The story of a fuzzy green grump who lives up on top of a mountain all by himself. He hates Christmas and steals the gifts and trees and everything on Christmas Eve from the Whos down in Whoville. But instead of ruining Christmas, the Grinch learns that the Whos don’t need presents and trees to celebrate what Christmas is really about. 

At the end of the movie, a little girl named Cindy Lou goes up the Grinch’s mountain and invites him to Christmas dinner. He is surprised. After everything he has done, why would he be invited? 

“What? Me?” He asks. “But I took your gifts.” 

“Yeah I know” Cindy Lou replies. 

“And your trees,” the Grinch protests. 

“Yup” 

“I stole your whole Christmas,” he says, as if she would have forgotten what he had done to her whole town. 

“I know you did. But we’re inviting you anyway.” 

“But why?” He asks. 

“Because. You’ve been alone long enough. Dinner's at six” 

Beloved friends, we have been alone long enough. This is what God says to us on this Christmas morning. That God invites us in not because of us but in spite of us. In spite of all of the messiness of the world. In spite of all of the things we have stolen and ruined and been grumpy about, God comes to us. God comes to us as an innocent child. As the very light of the world. As the Word of God broken in to this place. Why? Why would God come all the way here to earth to be among us? Why would the creator of all life and earth want to become one of us? Because we’ve been alone long enough. And God wants to invite us to dinner. Amen. 

This is but the beginning - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Mark 13:1-8

The Destruction of the Temple Foretold

13 As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” 2 Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

Gracious God, be with us in the labor of these days so that we might be reminded of your holy and saving work through the birth, life, death, and resurrection of your holy son, Christ Jesus. Amen. 

Every generation has rumors or the apocalypse or the end times. I remember a while back, there was global fear about what would happen at midnight on December 31 of 1999. And sometime in 2012 there was a lot of talk about the Mayan calendar ending. I’m sure a simple Google search would pull up thousands more dates when the world was supposed to end. Perhaps they were miscalculated, but we are still here, so it seems that the end of the world hasn’t come quite yet. 

But as a society we are fixated on knowing when the “end” might come and what it might look like. There are numerous book series and whole franchises of movies about the end of the world or the breakdown of society. Will it be caused by multiple climate disasters or global war? 

Of course, those are only the secular views of the end times. If we get into all of the religious theories and doctrine and theology, we could go on for ages about what then end will look like for the world. Even Jesus joined the discourse in the text we read this morning. This story is called the “little apocalyptic text,” a brief mention of the destruction of the temple… 

When the disciples looked at the temple, they saw an incredible structure— they saw a building unmatched anywhere else in the empire. It was an engineering marvel, rumored to have blocks of stone 40 feet long to make up the walls. And some said that the walls were covered in so much gold that people feared looking directly at it in the noonday sun because they might go blind. 

But it was not only an incredible structure. For the disciples, it was a symbol— THE symbol— of God’s presence and faithfulness in the world. Its glory proved God’s glory, its presence represented God’s presence. It was where God resided and where the most holy of ceremonies and rituals took place. 

So the shock of Jesus’ words cannot be understated. “Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” 

What would this mean for Jerusalem? For the Jewish people? What would it mean for God’s presence in the world and God’s faithfulness to God’s people? Surely Jesus wasn’t predicting the end of the world. 

In reality, apocalyptic literature and episodes in the Bible like this one, are less about the end of the world and more about an unveiling, an uncovering of truth. 

For the disciples, the truth was that God would be unconfined in the world. That they would not have one central place to go and find God. That God, indeed, could not be contained in the temple, as beautiful and large as it was, would have been a difficult truth to grasp in their world. 

Today, uncovering the truth of God’s ever-expansive and bountiful grace is difficult for us to grasp as well. It’s easier if God fits inside of our boxes and small ideas. 

On a larger scale in the world, oftentimes, uncovering truth is painful. It shows us the inequities of our society. It shows us how we have exploited and destroyed our planet. It shows us how we have contributed to diseases and death. 

Uncovering truth is often something that comes with deep groans of pain, stretching, and difficulty. Jesus says, this uncovering is like the beginning of birth pangs. Jesus tells the disciples that the destruction of the temple is only the beginning of what will happen…

“When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines.”

“Do not be alarmed,” Jesus says. Even as he tells the disciples of all of these disasters and terrible things that will happen. As he tells them that the temple will be destroyed. That life as they know it will change forever. “Do not be alarmed.” 

Perhaps what Jesus describes is happening not only in the world around us, but within the Christian community. Perhaps there is an uncovering that is happening within the church, and it is something we should pay attention to. What could the Holy Spirit be revealing in this time of pain and labor within the church? What could God be teaching us through the warnings of the world that the church is dying? Perhaps we are being reminded once again that God’s glory and power and majesty cannot be contained, but spreads out into the world abundantly. What might God be tellings us beyond these walls? In what ways is the Spirit leading us to dream bigger and more expansive in these time? Despite the warnings of the church dying, could God be calling this community to something new, something generous, and something risky? Jesus says “do not be alarmed.” Notice, pay attention. But do not be alarmed. 

At the very end of this reading, Jesus says this is only the beginning of the birth pangs. That, I think, is the good news of this morning. That the famine, the wars, the painful unveiling of inequality and strife, the research that claims that the church is dying… it is only the beginning of the birth pangs. And like birth pangs, they will grow in intensity until they feel unbearable. And THEN— right when we think we can’t handle any more pain, when our whole being is saying we can’t go any further— is when we will be greeted with the cry of new birth. That is always the case with God— that what the world believes is the end is actually the beginning of God’s work in the world. 

Jesus’ promise is that this pain is not the end. Because of God’s promise of resurrection for us and all of creation, death is never the end. God’s promise for us and for all of creation is the promise of a savior who, indeed, was born into a world of pain and continues his saving work even to this day. The world may say that this is the end. This, dear ones, is but the beginning. Amen. 

God of Love - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Mark 12:28-34

The First Commandment

28 One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” 29 Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; 30 you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ 31 The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” 32 Then the scribe said to him, “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that ‘he is one, and besides him there is no other’; 33 and ‘to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength,’ and ‘to love one’s neighbor as oneself,’—this is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” 34 When Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” After that no one dared to ask him any question.

God of love, open our hearts to love you and love our neighbors as ourselves. Amen. 

I have been to quite a few churches in my short life thus far. I have never seen any church with a sign like ours. Not the sign that faces Southside Boulevard— that is the sign that speaks to the rest of the world. I’m talking about the sign made for us. It’s actually one of the first things I noticed when I drove out of the Redeemer parking lot for the first time. And I read it every single time I leave this place— “this concludes our worship. Our service now begins.” It is also the last thing folks will see at the end of the live stream today. “This concludes our worship. Our service now begins.” These two short sentences tell us a lot about who we are and what is important to this community.

I think it strikes me so profoundly because it also reminds me of a song we used to sing in campus ministry when I was in college. The song is called “Madly” and part of the verse goes “let what we do in here, fill the streets out there.” That song, like that sign, aren’t words for the people outside of our church, they are not for the world to see and hear, but they are reminders to US, to THIS community. That what happens in this building is only important insofar as it changes what we do outside of this building.  

In the story we hear this morning, a scribe comes near and hears that people are asking Jesus all sorts of questions and when he realizes that Jesus knows what he’s talking about and that he answers the questions well, he asks “Which commandment is the first of all?” And Jesus answers with a common Jewish verse, “‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’” And then without being asked, Jesus goes right into the next commandment: “‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.’”

Jesus tells us about the first commandment— the most important commandment. And immediately follows with the second, which leads us to believe that it is just an extension of the first. 

And that is indeed true. These commandments cannot be separated from one another in Jewish culture. They are intricately connected, unable to be untwined from one another. To truly love God is to love our neighbor. That is how the Jewish people demonstrate their love and commitment to God— by their outward expressions of love for their neighbor. 

Of course, there would be questions about who actually counts as our neighbor. Are they the people in our community? The people who look like us? The people who believe the same things we believe? The people with the same sexuality or gender or disabilities or chronic illness as us? Are our neighbors just the folks who sit in our pews? Or those who live in the apartments down the street? What about the people who live around the world? 

When this question is asked, Jesus makes clear that our neighbor is everyone. That the definition of “neighbor” is ever-widening, ever-inclusive. No one is on the “outside” of the circle of those considered “neighbor.”

And then of course there is the question of what it really means to “love” someone. Is it enough to be nice? To smile and wave as they pass us on the sidewalk? What does it mean to truly love your neighbor as yourself? For Jesus, love is carried out on the cross. It is demonstrated in the sacrifice of his very body and blood for the sake of the whole world and all of creation. Love, for Jesus and his followers, is not about niceness or tolerance, but about the life-changing, world turning love that ushers in the Kingdom of God. 

These two commandments: to love God and to love our neighbors, are the most difficult and important things we will ever be called to do as the people of God. And they are what we come here to this place to learn how to do. In the scriptures and sermon and hymns, we learn what it means to love God and one another. In this meal, we come to understand what God means by love and we are changed and remade in the image of Christ, and empowered to love one another. 

As we leave this place, we read that sign and are reminded that we have an opportunity every minute of our lives to serve our neighbors and to love our neighbors. “This concludes our worship. Our service now begins.” 

And we won’t always get it right. More often than not, we are not going to love our neighbors as ourselves. We are going to participate in systems that exploit our neighbors and we are going to disregard the health and wholeness of the people around the world. We are going to mess up and stumble. 

But that’s why we come back here. That’s why we kneel before the cross and ask for forgiveness. It’s why we turn to our neighbors and offer Christ’s peace to one another. It’s why we come back to hear the commandments again and again, why we come back to hear the story of Jesus and how he loves us. It’s why we come to be nourished by his body and blood. Over and over again. Because we are God’s hands and feet in the world today. We are the ones who called to love as Jesus loved. Because love must never end. 

Dear ones, there is too much evil in this world. There is too much death and destruction and hate in this world. 

Therefore, love must never end. We must come here to rest and be renewed and reminded and then go back into the world to continue to love. And we live in the hope that in Christ Jesus, in his life, death, and resurrection, love never does end. Love is the last word. Love is the beginning and the ending of this cosmic story. And in that hope, in that knowledge, our service now begins. Amen.