Keeping the Season

"Nothing that Belongs to Us" by Dee Ashley, on Flickr

Wise women also came
by Jan Richardson

Wise women also came.
The fire burned in their wombs long before they saw the flaming star in the sky.
They walked in shadows, trusting the path would open under the light of the moon.

Wise women also came, seeking no directions, no permission from any king.
They came by their own authority, their own desire, their own longing.
They came in quiet, spreading no rumours, sparking no fears to lead to innocents' slaughter,
to their sister Rachel's inconsolable lamentations.

Wise women also came, and they brought useful gifts:
water for labour's washing, fire for warm illumination, a blanket for swaddling.

Wise women also came, at least three of them,
holdingMary in the labour,
crying out with her in the birth pangs,
breathing ancient blessings into her ear.

Wise women also came, and they went, as wise women always do, home a different way.


-from Night Visions: Searching for Shadows of Advent and Christmas, 1998: United Church Press

Lead Kindly Light
by John Henry Newman

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

Meantime, along the narrow rugged path,
Thyself hast trod,
Lead, Saviour, lead me home in childlike faith,
Home to my God.
To rest forever after earthly strife
In the calm light of everlasting life.

--

Lead Kindly Light - setting by Dan Forrest

"Advent Calendar - 24th Dec" by Paul Bommer, on Flickr

"Glory of Christ" by Stephen B Whatley, on Flickr

2 Corinthians 4:3-6
And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus' sake. For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

Mark 9:2-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, "This is my Son, the Beloved listen to him!" Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

---
On days when my dad was feeling too tired, too weak from chemo, and too loaded up on painkillers to concentrate on reading or talking, he would curl up on his end of the couch and turn on the Home and Garden network, watching hour after hour of home improvement and renovation shows.

My favorite part of home renovation shows is the end, when the homeowners get to see all the work that the designers have been doing. For each room, there is a “before” and an “after” shot that we, the viewers at home, get to see. The old room, with its mismatched furniture or its peeling linoleum floor, and the new room, filled with light and with the smell of freshly painted walls.

Whether the change is drastic or subtle, I grew to love watching these shows with my dad, because I loved how the designers always had an eye for a room’s potential. Even as they were looking at the “before,” they could see in their heads the “after. The purpose of their work was to uncover the inherent beauty in a house’s bones, to shine up the elements that were already there, to reveal beauty instead of building it from the ground up.

During this season of Epiphany, we have been revealing and uncovering the good news of who Jesus Christ is for the world. Transfiguration is sort of the ultimate Epiphany. This day in the church year, like those home renovation shows, is all about revealing beauty. It is about throwing off the veil and uncovering the brightness of Christ, which, incidentally, has been there all along. And transfiguration is about throwing off the veil and uncovering the beauty in ourselves and in the world, which, also, has actually been there all along.

Jesus is up there on the mountain with his disciples, and before their very eyes, he becomes bright as the sun, cloaked in dazzling white. He is revealed, with Moses on one side and Elijah on the other, as the fulfillment of all the law and the prophets, a savior who has all authority in heaven and on earth. And a voice from heaven on the mountain echoes the words of the voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism: "This is my Son, the Beloved.”

A favorite hymn of mine is "Love Divine, all Loves Excelling." In the last stanza of that hymn, we sing "Finish then thy new creation, pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy great salvation perfectly restored in thee. Changed from glory into glory, 'till in heaven we take our place; till we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise."

That phrase, "changed from glory into glory" is exactly what is happening to Jesus at his transfiguration, exactly what happened to him in his baptism. In both of these "before and after" events, all of the divine mystery that was already pumping through his veins was affirmed, intensified, identified, made more real. Realer than real, if you’ll pardon my making up of words.

At his baptism, God says of Jesus, “this is my Son.” Except that it’s not like Jesus wasn’t the Son of God before his baptism. Up on the mountaintop, the voice from heaven says “this is my Son - listen to him!” but it’s not like Jesus didn’t have authority before his transfiguration. I mean, for the last three weeks or so, Mark’s gospel has told us over and over again about Jesus having the authority to heal the sick and cast out demons.

No, in both of these epiphany moments, it’s like God had this plan to open up the heavens to remind Jesus of who he really was. To change him from glory into glory. To affirm the “before” and let that affirmation itself be the “after.” To give a name to the beauty that already existed in him, that the disciples and all the rest of us might see him for who he really is.

For those of us who are waiting to see ourselves and our creation renewed and reordered, Jesus’ transfiguration is a sign for us that the work of God in our lives is not to create beauty out of ugliness, but to uncover the beauty that has been in us all along.

Which is sometimes very hard to believe. Any number of magazines, self-help books, and makeover shows make it seem like we are beautiful only after some renovations, and not before.

Like…maybe we think that we will be more beloved after we get better at attending worship regularly. Or we think that we will be more valued after we get that degree or that promotion. Or we are told that we will be more lovable after we lose those last ten pounds. We get duped into thinking that our lives are incomplete until after we get married, or after we have children, or after we buy a house, or maybe we are in a place where we think that our lives are worth joy and peace only after we retire.

And as we look deeply into the world around us, we see racism and classism and poverty; we watch our fragile creation groan as we damage the tender ecology of our planet; we see nations at war and innocent lives taken by terror and violence. And we sometimes get numb and think that the kingdom of God will show up only after our world is back on track.

But Paul reminds us that God is the one who, at the birth of creation, said “let light shine out of darkness,” and that in all of creation, there has not been a time when light and beauty has not existed. God shoots beautiful beams of this light directly into our hearts, that we might be enlightened and empowered by knowing God’s glory as revealed to us in Christ, both up on the mountaintop and on the cross.

By Christ’s death and resurrection, we take heart knowing that God sees us as beautiful even while we are yet imperfect and incomplete. We have confidence that every day, God intends to change us not from rejection to glory, but from glory to glory.

And so all the times where we need help seeing God’s potential in our world, to all the places where we need help seeing beauty in both the “before” and in the “after, Jesus, dazzling on that transfiguration mountaintop stands for us as a symbol of the power of God to make beauty out of beauty, to draw light out of light.

Transfiguration pushes us to see belovedness in one another and in all creation, even while we are still waiting for the dazzling restoration of all things. Transfiguration empowers us to work for justice and peace in this world, right here and now, not waiting idly for God's "after," but treating our current world as the kingdom of God in our midst, doing what we can to uncover the goodness and beauty in all this created universe.

For God created the world and called it good and beautiful - alleluia!
We have put on the dazzling brightness of Christ, in whom we have been baptized - alleluia!
We are named "beloved" and "child of God." - alleluia!
We have been changed from glory into glory with all the communion of saints - alleluia!

May you know this day and always that you are beautiful, beloved, and filled with the light of Christ. May you shine with this light each and every day.

Amen.

"transfiguration" by 0x17.me, on Flickr

Mark 9:2-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, "This is my Son, the Beloved listen to him!" Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

"chocolate chip cookie @ Eagle's Nest" by ledge, on Flickr

1 Corinthians 9:16–23
If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.

For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.

Mark 1:29–39
As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, "Everyone is searching for you." He answered, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do." And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

--
Sam and I were out for a walk on Friday afternoon, enjoying the sunshine and mild weather. I had to run a few errands, one of which was stopping by Java John’s to pick up a few gift certificates. When I got there, I noticed that Sam had fallen fast asleep, and I decided to take advantage of the situation. I ordered myself a cup of tea, with plans to sit and read for a while. As I finished paying and was dunking my tea bag into my mug, Mike appeared at the edge of the counter with a broken oatmeal chocolate chip cookie on a plate.

“Could I interest you like a free cooking for...free?" he asked. Apparently a broken cookie has no place in the pastry case.

I commented that a free cookie for free was a much better deal than free cookie that cost something. And then said that I supposed I could help him out, just this once. Even if it meant eating a cookie. Yeah, I'd make that sacrifice. It was a most delicious free cookie for free.

Paul in 1 Corinthians today talks about his obligation to preach the gospel free of charge. For those of us who understand the gospel message as God’s free grace and salvation, proclaiming a gospel "free of charge" might sound almost as silly as getting a free cookie for free.

Whether we begin worship with confession or with thanksgiving for baptism, each week we hear that that God's forgiveness is freely given to us out of his enduring and unsearchable love. And this is a lovely message. Our hearts need this message of freedom, because we know very well that there are plenty of things out there that try to bind us: our fears, our failings, the violence and greed and divisiveness in our world. It is a much-needed balm to our weary souls to hear that we are free from all of that.

But freedom, as we know, is not just a matter of being free from. It is also a matter of being free for. If you've been paying attention these last few weeks, Paul has been instructing the church at Corinth in the ways of Christian freedom. The Corinthians had some strong ideas about what the gospel of Christ freed them from, but they often missed the boat when it cam to what the gospel of Christ freed them for.

In his letter, Paul address everything from food sacrificed to idols to issues of sex and relationships; over and over again he has to remind the church at Corinth that being free in Christ means nothing if your freedom hurts others or causes them to stumble in their own walk of faith.

In today’s reading, Paul uses words that Martin Luther will later quote almost verbatim in his treatise "On the Freedom of a Christian.” Paul says, "though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all.”

Paul goes on to talk about how he becomes all things to all people, that he might proclaim the gospel of Christ. “Becoming all things to all people” means approaching his task with humility, not lording the gospel over those to whom he preaches, but instead trying to embody their cares and concerns, that he might best speak a word of grace and hope to them. For Paul, his freedom in Christ is not an excuse to boast or to act recklessly. His freedom in Christ is a reason to serve others and to preach the gospel in a way that others will be able to hear it.

There are echoes of this sentiment in today’s gospel. Simon’s mother-in-law, being freed by Jesus from her illness, responds by reaching out in service. The crowds, being freed from various illness and demons, search for Christ, that they might better understand and share his message.

On this annual meeting Sunday, my heart is lingering on this question of what it means to use our freedom - and limit our freedom - in service of others. What it means to “become all things to all people” by entering into the cares and concerns of one another for the sake of building up the body of Christ.

When we meet later this morning, we will spend time checking on the state of our shared ministry here at First, and we will set priorities and goals for the year to come. This is a perfect time to think about how well we are accomplishing our task of offering to the world the free gospel…for free.

I was asked earlier this week, "don't you think we are really past the time when people still think of First as the college congregation?" It's an interesting question, one for which I don't know that I have a good answer. It is one of many questions we might ask ourselves in our current context.

Other questions we might ask ourselves:

• Does this congregation offer the same welcome to Luther College faculty and staff as it does to nurses and shopkeepers and elementary school teachers in town?
• Is our Norwegian heritage something welcoming to many? Does it close us off?
• Is our congregation a comfortable place for both academics and those without a degree?
• Is our worship life accessible and inviting both to musicians and to those who are tone-deaf?
• Is our sense of Lutheran identity something that makes us distinct and gracious? Does an emphasis on our Lutheran identity ever shut out those who are questioning, searching, or seeking?
• Are people likely to feel as valued in the congregation if they are well-off or if they are struggling financially?
• On an average Sunday, do people feel like they can walk into the sanctuary and find a warm welcome wherever they choose to sit?
• On an average Sunday, do people feel like they are welcome attend fellowship hour, and do they also feel confident that someone will invite them over to their table?

I need to be careful, and I need you to listen carefully to me in this moment. None of these questions are intended to be judgements. Every congregation has its own set of questions related to its identity and its ability to welcome those who don't fit that identity. And every congregation should regularly be asking itself these hard questions if we are to take seriously the idea that the gospel is something to be shared and proclaimed.

My hope this morning is to challenge us, as individuals and as a congregation, to consider both the ways that we are - and are not yet - "being all things to all people," by which I mean the ways that we are and are not yet willing and able to meet people where they are - theologically, financially, educationally, liturgically - all for the sake of serving them, loving them, and valuing them as partners in the gospel.

Because our call, as Christians, is not just to recognize the needs and concerns of one another, but to embody them, to bear them, to empathize with them, just as Christ bore in himself our own needs and burdens on the cross.

Without this Christ-like hospitality and mutuality, we risk offering the world a free gospel at a cost. Because let’s be honest. It's easier to welcome new members when they come from a Lutheran background or have a prior connection to Luther and to Decorah; and it's easier to plan worship when we all know the same hymns; and it's easier to plan projects when we all share the same values; and it's easier to plan adult education when we all are interested in the same topics; and it's easier to write budgets when we all agree on how our money should serve our ministry.

It is much harder to offer the free gospel for free, because it means embracing our diversity and being humble and honest about those who differ from us and those who do not yet find a welcome here.

Now, that being said, we have a fantastic groundwork set here. Turn to that welcome statement inside your bulletin. Right there is our shared commitment to offer the free gospel for free. We say, "no matter what," you are welcome. No matter who else has rejected you, you are welcome here, because Christ welcomes you and loves you and so we love you too. We say it

One of my hopes and dreams is that we continue to talk about this statement, and we continue to view it as our mission. A mission of welcome is a mission of freedom. Because it’s not just that it’s good to be different from one another. And it’s not just that our differences build up an increasingly intricate and beautiful body of Christ. It’s that our differences - and our willingness to humbly and purposefully engage those differences - push us ever closer to proclaiming a free gospel that is truly free, extended to all without reservation, without resentment, without restraint.

My brothers and sisters, you are each free and beautiful children of God. So are each of your neighbors. So are your enemies. Today, let us remain united in the truth of Christ’s saving death and resurrection - the truth that sets us free - and go forward to use that freedom for the sake of wisdom and understanding, partnership in the gospel, and holy hospitality, offering welcome to friends and strangers as they come to this place for hope, healing, and the grace of God.

Isaiah 40:21–31
Have you not known? Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from the beginning?
Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?

It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,
and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;
who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,
and spreads them like a tent to live in;
who brings princes to naught,
and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing.

Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,
scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,
when he blows upon them, and they wither,
and the tempest carries them off like stubble.

To whom then will you compare me,
or who is my equal? says the Holy One.
Lift up your eyes on high and see:
Who created these?

He who brings out their host and numbers them,
calling them all by name;
because he is great in strength,
mighty in power,
not one is missing.

Why do you say, O Jacob,
and speak, O Israel,
"My way is hidden from the LORD,
and my right is disregarded by my God"?
Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary,
and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.

"Together" by Sha Pat, on Flickr

Mark 1:29–39
As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, "Everyone is searching for you." He answered, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do." And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

"Mint Green Calls" by JoyHey, on Flickr

Jonah 3:1–5, 10
The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time, saying, Get up, go to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim to it the message that I tell you. So Jonah set out and went to Nineveh, according to the word of the LORD. Now Nineveh was an exceedingly large city, a three days' walk across. Jonah began to go into the city, going a day's walk. And he cried out, "Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!" And the people of Nineveh believed God; they proclaimed a fast, and everyone, great and small, put on sackcloth. When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil ways, God changed his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them; and he did not do it.

Mark 1:14–20
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, repent, and believe in the good news." As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea — for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

---

Tim sat across the table from me, sipping his coffee slowly as I talked in one, big, run-on sentence about this new opportunity that God had laid before me, to leave the familiarity of the Chicago suburbs, to leave my family, to leave a church that I had served for nearly four years, to pack up everything and move to Iowa and take a call at this pretty fabulous church called "First Lutheran."

Tim was my last hope. A fellow pastor, a dear friend, someone I trusted to speak truth into any situation. I'd made all of pro and con lists. I'd wrestled in prayer. I'd talked to Matt, my parents, my sisters...I'd even gone so far as to talk to friends who had lived in Iowa - and survived! And I was stuck. Ahead of me, the possibility of a REALLY. GREAT. THING. Behind me, the fear of saying goodbye and the guilt over leaving my family and the anxiety of having to pack and move and find a house and change my license plates.

My inner Jonah was winning the battle. "Ninevah is a big city, God, and there's good work to be done there, but I'm pretty sure that it's going to be a rough go of things for me, and so maybe I should think about doing something closer to home."

"I think it's a fantastic opportunity," I said to Tim, "and on paper, it's exactly what I think I am being called to. But saying 'yes' would mean giving up too much. It's too hard to actually do it."

I thought that my decision had been made.

Tim took another sip of his coffee and looked back at me. "Is this a church that you feel called to serve?" Yes. "And do you feel excited when you think about all of the new possibilities there?" Yes. "And you keep saying yes when they ask you for interviews, because you can't bring yourself to say no?" Yes... "But you don't want to accept the call because it would be...hard to leave?" Yes...

Jesus walked along the Sea of Galilee. He called out to Simon and Andrew and they dropped everything and followed him. James and John were in the boat with their father, and Jesus called out to them, too, and they jumped out of the boat and left their father and left behind everything and followed Jesus.

I looked at Tim. I wanted to say, “I hate you,” but instead I said, “I guess I know what I need to do.” And I walked out to my car and called my husband at work. “ I think we're moving to Iowa..."

(Sidenote, in case you hadn't figured it out: God knows what he's doing. And Tim knows what he's doing. And there is no question that my call here was a call from God. I love this place and am lucky to serve here.)

Today's gospel is one of a few different times that Jesus tells people that following him means giving up. Later, Jesus sends out the disciples into the villages, telling them to bring nothing for their journey. And in another episode, a few would-be disciples tell Jesus that they want to follow him, but only after they take care of various important tasks at home, and Jesus tells them that following him means being willing to give up mother and father and home and even life itself. And in another place, Jesus tells his disciples that "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me.”

For the disciples, the call to follow Jesus meant keeping their eyes open for Christ's work in the world - healing, teaching, compassion, forgiveness. Following Jesus mean that they, too, were challenged to show forgiveness and to enact healing and to welcome children and widows and lepers and sinners and the unclean.

It might sound sort of obvious, but following Jesus means that we, too, are called to these same tasks.

For most of us, we are pretty okay with the idea that God loves us, and that Christ died for us, and that God's grace covers us and forgives us, and that we are lovely, beloved children of God. But our faith gets stretched in different directions when we remember that our relationship with God also comes with a calling. Many callings, actually.

Sometimes, he calls us to do something different - to change careers or to take up a new volunteer project, or to talk to different people or to take a risk on acting with justice or compassion when we otherwise might just have kept our mouths shut. Sometimes, he calls us to be something different - to be more patient or hospitable or gracious or generous, to turn our hearts away from our own desires and priorities in order to focus on the needs of others.

And whenever Jesus calls us to live out God’s hopes and dreams in the world, he calls us to say “yes” to God and “no” to something else. Saying “yes” to God’s values means saying “no” to our own pride. Saying “yes” to generosity means saying “no” to selfishness. Saying “yes” to God’s power working in us means saying “no” to our own illusions of control.

Sometimes we hear God's call and respond like Jonah, kicking and screaming and defiantly waiting until God throws us in the belly of a fish, just to prove that he’s serious. Sometimes we hear God's call and respond like Peter and Andrew and James and John, dropping everything and immediately taking up our new charge.

I love that word “immediately.” Not only does it evoke an image of James and John throwing themselves over the side of the boat and running in slow motion through the water to get to Jesus, but it also gives us a little shove forward in our own walk with Jesus. Because living out God’s call is an immediate thing. There are opportunities to live as Christ’s chosen ones right here, right now.

So that is the question before us right now - as individuals and as a congregation: Right here, right now, what is Christ calling us to do or to be?

Think about that for a moment. What is God calling you toward in this very moment in your life?

As you think about this calling, what is your gut reaction? To run away like Jonah? To jump at the opportunity like the disciples? Something in-between?

What is it that is standing in the way of you saying “yes” to this call? What do you have to give up?

Figuring out and answering God's calling is hard work. As you wrestle with God's call for you, by all means seek out friends and trusted advisors. Make lists of pros and cons. Write out your thoughts, crunch the numbers, drink some strong coffee, think deeply, and pray. All of this stuff is the work of discernment: the ongoing process of listening for Jesus' voice and then trying to answer and obey it.

Friends, I don't know what you're going through right now, and I don't know the exact ways in which Jesus is saying to you, "Drop everything and follow me." But I do know that I can pray for you as you work things through.

I invite you to pull out that yellow Connection Card from your bulletin, and in the prayer request box, to share a little or a lot about what God is calling you to, that we might lift you up in prayer. Maybe it's a word or two, keeping things cryptic. Maybe it's a paragraph. It's up to you.

Take a few minutes between now and the offering to think deeply about where God is leading you. Write down some areas that we can lift you up in prayer. By all means check the box for "I would like to talk to a pastor" if you want to talk some things through.

And remember, in everything that God is calling you to do and to be, that in Christ, God has already said “no” to death and “yes” to life. God has already said “no” to sin and “yes” to forgiveness. God has said “no” to all of your fears and insecurities, and has said “yes” to loving you. All of you. He has said “yes” to empowering you to live like Christ and to live for Christ.

I close with a prayer from the Sisters of Notre Dame, a pray for discernment and inspiration. May it be the prayer on your lips and mine, as we seek this day and always to hear and answer God’s callings in our lives.

Let us pray.

Walk with me, good and loving God, as I journey through life.
May I take Your hand and be led by Your Holy Spirit.
Fill me, inspire me, free me to respond generously to Your call.
For I believe You desire my deepest joy,
And it is only in Your company
That my soul will be satisfied
And my life will find its meaning and purpose.    
Amen.

"Disciples fishing" by renzo dionigi, on Flickr

Mark 1:14-20
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, repent, and believe in the good news." As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea — for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

"more clouds." by kaija, on Flickr

Genesis 1:1–5
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

Mark 1:4–11
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
---

More than ever, it feels like our world is tearing apart at the seams.

In France, a nation rends its garments in grief over this week's shootings. In Nigeria, the border town of Baga has been ripped apart by a devastating attack by Boko Haram which has left as many as 2000 people dead, many of them women, children, and the elderly. In Pakistan, an ordinary day has been torn apart by a suicide bomber killing innocent victims outside a mosque.

Often our Christian theology centers on beautiful things like the kindness and compassion of God. We talk about God in terms of forgiveness, grace, and mercy.

But when the powers of death and destruction in our world seem so prevalent and insurmountable, we are lucky that our story of faith also includes images of God's strength and power, especially over darkness and despair. In heart-rending times like these, we need to have the confidence that God has the power to overcome all these heart-breaking things. We need be able to say to the forces that tear apart our world that our God has power to tear apart the very powers of sin and death and destruction.

In the Old Testament, we see example after example of the power of God which accompanies the Israelites through slavery, in the wilderness, and even in battle. In her Magnificat, Mary sings about a God who scatters the proud with the power of his arm. And at his baptism, Jesus reveals the power of God to break open the very heavens themselves.

Jesus comes to the river to be baptized from John. He plunges into the water, breaking its surface both at his descent and at his emerging. In response, the heavens themselves break apart. God in his power splits open the sky, from which the Spirit pours down upon Jesus and into him, affirming him as beloved Son of God, empowering him to begin a life of public ministry, and setting him at the start of a journey that will eventually take him to the cross. It will be by this cross that the world itself will crack open.

Mark, at the end of his gospel, will talk about the temple curtain being torn in two at the moment of Jesus' death, symbolizing the destruction of the boundary separating God and humans. He uses the same verb to talk about the heavens rending open at Jesus' baptism and the curtain rending in two at Jesus' death to make the point that the power of God does not stand idly by, is not subtle. The power of God as creator and redeemer crashes through barriers and smashes into the world with urgency.

From the very beginning of all things, we hear in Genesis of a God who rips apart chaos itself into little pieces and reorganizes them into the poetry of creation. This same God rips apart the waters of the Red Sea to create a clear path for the Israelites to escape their Egyptian slavery. When God's chosen people are suffering in exile, the prophet Isaiah does not pray for the meek compassion of God to sneak in and calm their grieving hearts. No, Isaiah says, "Oh that you would tear open the heavens and come down so that the mountains would quake at your presence, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!" And then, in Revelation, when we imagine a cosmic battle between good and evil where God in Christ ultimately triumphs over all the powers of sin and death, we hear again of the heavens opening up and God breaking in: "Then I saw the new heaven and the new earth, and I saw the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God."

In our current age, as in all ages before us, we need God to tear apart the heaven and come down. We need to pray this again and again and again. Because unlike the senseless, destructive powers that try to tear apart our world, our God breaks things open in order to fill up the world with his presence, to flood all things with mercy, to pour into our world and our hearts the full measure of his goodness, life, and salvation.

This is what we learn from Jesus’ baptism. God is strong enough to tear open the heavens, and God is gracious enough to break open our hardened hearts, and God destroys evil and death by drowning them in love and grace and hope.

We use lots of images to talk about baptism. We talk about it as a washing or cleansing. We talk about it as dying and rising with Christ. We talk about being clothed in baptism - an image that we recall at funerals as we clothe the casket in the pall at the beginning of the service. We talk about how baptism gives us gifts of the Holy Spirit.

But when do we ever talk about baptism as a rending apart?

When we reject sin, death, and the devil in baptism, we are professing faith in a God who tears us away from the darkest forces in all creation. When we pour that water over our heads, we are trusting God to crack open our hearts and come rushing into us. When we anoint with oil and speak the words, “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever,” we are breaking apart old identities to make room for God’s claim on us as his beloved.

The author Joanna Macy writes, “The heart that breaks open can contain the whole universe.” This, brothers and sisters, is what baptism is all about.

By these crushing waters of baptism, we are broken in order that we might be filled with the power of God's salvation. And by this power we get pushed out into the world to resist darkness and create salvation for all our broken world.

In these baptismal waters we ride along on a current, where God acts and God acts in us, and we act in God, and we tumble all over one another and spill out over the edges, and it all sounds very messy, but it turns out that it is actually very beautiful.

For we have a God who tears into the world not for sport but for salvation.

And there is no better, warmer, brighter news for our broken world and our broken hearts than to hear God say to us, "You are my children. You are beloved. In you I am well-pleased." Yes, the fullness of God-in-Christ is pleased - pleased - to dwell in you and to make a home among us.

Oh, that you would continue to tear open the heavens, Lord God.
Oh, that you would continue to rend our hearts, Lord God.
Fill this longing world with your power and mercy.
Pour out your Spirit upon us and move over the face of the earth.
Burst through the skies and come to us, again and again, that we might know ever more deeply what it is to be yours. To be your broken and beloved. To be your children.

Amen.

The Three Kings
by Muriel Spark

Where do we go from here?
We left our country,
Bore gifts,
Followed a star.
We were questioned.
We answered.
We reached our objective.
We enjoyed the trip.
Then we came back by a different way.
And now the people are demonstrating in the streets.
They say they don't need the Kings any more.
They did very well in our absence.
Everything was all right without us.
They are out on the streets with placards:
Wise Men? What's wise about them?
There are plenty of Wise Men,
And who needs them? -and so on.

Perhaps they will be better off without us,
But where do we go from here?






photo credit: "Three Wise Men" by James, on Flickr

"Jesus the Homeless by Kevin.Hong on Flickr"

Matthew 17:1-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.

As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."
---

Last week, I saw my first preview for the new movie, Son of God, which hit theaters this weekend. As best I can tell from a thirty-second ad, it seems to be a pretty conventional Jesus movie: a handsome, well-coiffed Jesus with sparkling eyes and a dreamy, authoritative voice doing a representative mish-mash of teachings and miracles as smushed together from all four gospels, leading up to a pretty gruesome flogging and crucifixion scene. They didn't give away the ending in the preview (wink, wink!), but I imagine that the resurrection scene will be a pretty tried-and-true scene of light flooding out of an empty tomb, conveying temporary blindness to the movie-going audience until the figure of Jesus emerges, with even better hair and downy white robes, his hands outstretched and his eyes gleaming.

You have to pardon me if I sound a bit dubious about this latest effort to put the life of Jesus on the big screen. It's not that the life of Jesus isn't a pretty fantastic story to tell, and it's not that I think broad cultural exposure to the life and ministry of Jesus is intrinsically bad. But this movie, like other movies and mini-series before it, is culture's latest attempt to reveal Jesus to the masses, a stylized effort to show Jesus for who he is, at least in the opinion of a set of screenwriters and producers.

By accident or on purpose, the movie was released this weekend, Transfiguration weekend. So while one attempt to see Jesus for who he is has just hit theaters, another attempt to see Jesus for who he is is taking place here, in our churches, because Transfiguration is all about seeing Jesus in a different light.

So let's dig in to our gospel. Let's see who Jesus is, for real.

Jesus, Peter, and James are up on a high mountain. Just before this, Jesus has been positively identified by Peter as "the Messiah, the Son of the living God," and he has taught the disciples that his identity as Messiah is bound up in a particular fate: death at the hands of the authorities, and resurrection on the third day. He has also told the disciples that following him means following him all the way to the cross, following him even into suffering and death for his sake.

So now, these three have hiked up to the top of this mountain, and while they are standing there talking, light descends upon them. Jesus face shines, his clothes become whiter than white, Moses and Elijah appear, and Jesus is transfigured. A curious word, "transfigured." It means a metamorphosis, a change...and yet not a change. You know how you might think you know someone, and then something happens, for good for for bad, and even though they look the same in a physical sense, you "see them differently" or "see them in a different light?" That's the idea of transfiguration. The disciples saw Jesus in a new light as he was standing there with Moses and Elijah in this dazzling display.

And then they hear a voice from heaven: "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" You might recognize these words from back at Jesus' baptism, which we celebrated at the beginning of this season of Epiphany. At his baptism, Jesus' identity was revealed. Here at his transfiguration, his identity is affirmed. God confirms him as the the Son of God, the fulfillment of all the law and prophets that came before him - symbolized by the presence of Moses and Elijah - and the one who will defeat death by rising from it.

Amazed, terrified, unsteady in the overwhelming presence of the divine, the disciples fall to the ground in fear and trembling. Jesus pulls them back up, comforting them, saying “do not be afraid, do not fear.”


And as they stand up, just like that, the moment has passed. The birds start chirping again, and the sky looks like itself again. Jesus isn't sparkling anymore, Elijah and Moses have vanished, the ominous voice-of-God cloud has disappeared, and life has returned to normal. There is no reason to stay up on the mountain any longer, and so Jesus and the disciples head down. This journey down the mountain is the journey back to the wilderness of the world, and the start of Jesus' journey to Jerusalem, the place of his ultimate demise.

Jesus' transfiguration only takes up two paragraphs in the whole of Matthew's gospel, but these two paragraphs tell us the entire story of who Jesus is. The disciples on the mountain and all of us, in this blaze of light, see Jesus for who he really is.

And who is he?

Jesus is the Beloved, the Son of God.
Jesus is the one who both dazzles us and picks us up from the ground.
Jesus is the one who says to us, "do not fear."
Jesus is the one who leads us up the mountain into the presence of God, and the one who leads us down the mountain to live as faithful disciples in the wilderness of this world.

Because while movies and TV mini-series would have us believe that we see Jesus most clearly in all of his dazzling, victorious, glorious, up-on-the-mountain moments, the truth is that seeing Jesus for who he really is means following him beyond his mountaintop blaze of glory, down into the world, all the way to the depths of our human suffering and sorrow, all the way to the cross.

See, from the top of this Transfiguration mountain, we get a clear view another hill, Golgotha, where Jesus will take his place not flanked by Moses and Eljiah, but by thieves, one on the right, and one on the left, as he hangs on the cross to die. The brightness of Christ here on the mountaintop illuminates the landscape down below, where we see human frailty and a world in need. If we really want to see Jesus for who he is, then we need to look beyond his shining face into the faces of the frail and the broken, the poor and the outcast, the sick and the oppressed, the lost and the forgotten. Because these are the ones that Jesus came to love and to save, and we in our own brokenness can find ourselves numbered among these humble saints.

A new piece of artwork is being installed in front of St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Davidson, North Carolina. It is a bench, with a life-sized bronze sculpture of a human figure laying on it, covered in a blanket, with only his feet sticking out the end. At first glance, it appears a sculpture of a homeless man, sleeping on a park bench. Only upon closer examination of his wounded feet does it become apparent to the viewer that this homeless figure is actually Jesus.

This sculpture has been at the center of controversy, rejected by two different churches before finding its home in front of St. Alban’s. For some, the idea of Jesus depicted as a homeless man is vulgar, upsetting, and inappropriate.

But for others, the figure speaks to the heart of Jesus’ own heart. For Jesus is the one who says elsewhere in Matthew’s gospel, “as you do to one of the least of these, so you do unto me.”

For in this statue, we see the truth about who Jesus is: he is the one who came to save the last, the lost, and the least. He was born in the mud of a stable, himself without a permanent home to rest his head. He was the one willing to get mud on his hands to heal a blind man, and to get mud on his reputation to preach good news to a Samaritan woman with a sketchy past.

Friends, the Jesus we see, the Jesus we follow, the Jesus who loves us, the Jesus who died for us: he is more than just an interesting character to portray on the big screen. He is more than a pretty face and soothing voice.

Jesus is found among us, every day, in the faces of those whom he came to save. Jesus is God-with-us - really with us! - and he is the one who will save us from our sin, break the bonds of death. He is the living, breathing, walking, talking fullness of God for us and for our salvation.

This week, we will join Jesus in heading down the mountain as we begin the season of Lent. We will pass through the dusty terrain, remembering that we ourselves are dust, and we will follow Jesus all the way to the valley of the shadow of death. Together, we will listen to Jesus as he declares himself living water, sight for the blind, and the resurrection and the life.

And from the mountaintop of the transfiguration to the hilltop of Jesus’ death, we see Jesus for who he really is: the Beloved Son of God in human flesh, who emptied himself of all glory that he might take on the weight of the world, so that through him, all things might be redeemed.

Thanks be to God.
Amen.

"Transfiguration" by byzkarl, on Flickr

Matthew 17:1-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.

As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."

"Poster::Love" by marcelsan on Flickr

Deuteronomy 30:15-20
See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. If you obey the commandments of the LORD your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the LORD your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the LORD your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess. But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the LORD swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.

Matthew 5:21-37
"You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not murder'; and 'whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, 'You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.

"It was also said, 'Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.' But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.

"Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.' But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let your word be 'Yes, Yes' or 'No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one.
---

When Charisse and Jon would bid farewell to their teenage sons as they left to hang out with friends on a Saturday night, they would send their sons off with a five-fingered goodbye: no drinking, no drugs, no smoking, no sex, and no operating heavy machinery.

In other words, "make good choices."

In some ways, our very existence can be defined as an ongoing series of choices that we make, from which cereal we eat for breakfast to which discipline we major in in college, to our choice of boyfriend, girlfriend, or spouse. We make choices about where we life and who we spend time with, what we eat and what we do for fun. We make choices about what products we use and what business we want to support...or boycott. We make choices about how to raise our children and we make choices about whether to stay in our homes or move into assisted living communities.

Some of us make choices based on convenience, or on what takes the least effort. Some of us make choices based on what makes us feel good or what makes us happy. Some of us make choices based on whether or not we will get into trouble.

It might not surprise you to find out that I was a total goody-two-shoes in elementary school. Always the one with hands folded on my desk, responsible, respectful, keenly aware of right and wrong.

And I'll never forget the day that I was sitting in line outside of math class, waiting for the teacher to be ready for us, and realizing that I had completely forgotten to do my long division homework. I couldn't stand the thought of getting in trouble for not having my homework, and having a "late note" sent home to my parents, and missing recess, so I thought I was doing the better thing by turing to my friend Kris and asking him if I could copy his answers. I might have gotten away with it if Kristin, the closest thing to an arch-enemy you can have in fifth grade, hadn't overheard me and immediately ratted me out to Mrs. Wenzloff. This earned me a late note, a missed recess, and a special note to my parents, which then also earned me the opportunity to sit at the dining room table with my mom and write an apology letter. I had made a choice that I thought was going to save me from getting in trouble, and ended up in even more trouble because of it.

It doesn't always work to make choices based on our happiness or convenience or self-preservation. There has to be a better way to make good choices.

God, in Deuteronomy, says "Choose life, that you and your descendants may live."

This passage from Deuteronomy comes from Moses's farewell discourse. God, through Moses, has led his people out of slavery, liberating them from oppression. They have spent forty years wandering in the wilderness, trusting God for their survival. And now, God has brought them to the edge of the promised land. The whole of their promised abundant life sits before them. All they have to do is remember the God who saved them and then choose to step forward into his promise. Staring at the edge of abundance, they have a choice: life or death, prosperity or adversity, blessings or curses. Stepping forward with God, or turning along their own paths in the wilderness.

Choose life, that you and your descendants may live.

This is how we, as redeemed and liberated people of faith, are called by God to make good choices. Good choices are life-giving, not only for us, but for others and for the whole created order. Good choices do not merely turn away from the wilderness, but they step forward into abundance and goodness.

Our gospel today is explicit about this idea that God asks us not only to reject evil, but to choose good.

We are still reading from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, and he is still teaching the people about God's values. We've already learned that God values things like meekness and peacemaking and compassion, and we've already learned that God calls us to be salt and light in the world. Now, Jesus is going back through the law and reinterpreting it for his listeners. Jesus says "You have heard it said...but I say..." This means that he is taking what the people think they know of the law, and giving them more to chew on.

For each law, Jesus intensifies the law, broadens it. It's not enough to reject the bad, he says. You also have to choose the good. It's not about the letter of the law, it's about the spirit.

The letter of the law might say that you shouldn't murder. But the spirit of the law says that you should seek to be life-giving in your words and deeds toward others.

The letter of the law might say that you shouldn't be unfaithful in your relationships. But the spirit of the law says that you should seek to view others as human beings and not as objects.

The letter of the law might say that you can dissolve relationships legally. But the spirit of the law says that you shouldn't view others as disposable, and that you should seek to protect the most vulnerable.

The letter of the law might say that you should be truthful, and not swear falsely. The spirit of the law says that you should live a life of integrity, so that others never have to doubt your word.

Jesus reinterprets the law so that it is other-focused instead of self-focused.

There are five hundred some laws in the Old Testament, and later in his teaching, Jesus will boil them down to two laws: love God and love neighbor. These are the guiding principles for all of our choices, and the criteria by which we live out God's law. Do our actions in the world first of all honor God? And then, do they care for the neighbor?

Too often, the temptation is to reduce our faith to a set of rules and moral codes. To believe that if we don't murder and don't steal and don't lie, then we are living up to God's expectations and living out our faith. Sort of like when your professor assigns a paper that is a minimum of five pages, and figure out that you can take a three page paper, increase the font by a little bit, increase the margins of the page by just a tiny smidge, and up that double-space between lines to a two-and-a-quarter space, and end up with a paper that is technically five pages.

But our God is not a God of technicalities, or a God of bare minimums.

God gave us the maximum in love for us, sending Jesus to die for us, deciding to save us long before we even were born. Like those wandering Israelites, God has already brought us out of slavery, liberated us from the oppression of sin and death, and has placed us now in view of the promised land, a land flowing with milk and honey. He has placed in front of us the promise of life and blessing.

Jesus, the one who has come to fulfill and reinterpret God's law, shows us that the life of faith is a life of transformation. Christ is always transforming our hearts to live by the law of generosity and compassion, changing our instincts, orienting us around God and other, so that we can reject evil and choose good.

Today we baptize Emmett, and welcome into our midst as a beautiful and beloved child of God. During the baptism, we will do exactly what Jesus asks us to do: reject evil and choose good. Together, we will renounce the devil, sin, and all the forces that draw us from God. And then we will profess our faith, actively choosing God and God's will over the wilderness paths of this world. Anne and Brett will actively choose good for Emmett, promising to help him grow in faith, learn about God, serve Jesus, share God's good news, and strive to live a life of justice and peace.

In baptism, God has chosen each and every one of us, and given us the power - and inclination - to make that double move. To reject the bad and to seek the good. To turn from evil and to honor both God and our neighbor.

So friends, we are standing at the edge of God's promise land. And we have a choice. God has set before us wilderness, death, adversity. And God has set before us blessings, abundance, and life.

This day, let us choose life, that we may truly live.

Micah 6:1-8
Hear what the LORD says:
Rise, plead your case before the mountains,
and let the hills hear your voice.
Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the LORD,
and you enduring foundations of the earth;
for the LORD has a controversy with his people,
and he will contend with Israel.
"O my people, what have I done to you?
In what have I wearied you? Answer me!
For I brought you up from the land of Egypt,
and redeemed you from the house of slavery;
and I sent before you Moses,
Aaron, and Miriam.
O my people, remember now what King Balak of Moab devised,
what Balaam son of Beor answered him,
and what happened from Shittim to Gilgal,
that you may know the saving acts of the LORD."
"With what shall I come before the LORD,
and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
with calves a year old?
Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams,
with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?"
He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the LORD require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

Matthew 5:1-12
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
"Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account 12Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
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We have a familiar gospel reading today: the Beatitudes. This list of who is blessed and what they receive from God’s hand. The Beatitudes are one of those Bible passages that has made its way into popular culture.

In elementary school, I was in a musical all about the Beatitudes and how they were guidelines for how to live a good life.

In the Monty Python irreverent comedy, Life of Brian, people listening to a version of the Beatitudes from the far edge of the crowd mishear what is going on, prompting one woman to ask her husband, “Did he say blessed are the cheese makers?”

And in the musical Little Shop of Horrors, there’s a song entitled “The Meek Shall Inherit,” whose chorus goes, "They say the meek shall inherit. You know the book doesn't lie. It's not a question of merit. It's not demand and supply. They say the meek gonna get it. "And you're a meek little guy." You know the meek are gonna get what's comin' to 'em, by and by."

The problem with popular Bible passages like the Beatitudes is that sometimes their message gets diluted or twisted when taken out of context. And so while we think we know what the Beatitudes are all about, I want to start by clearing up two common misunderstandings.

1. These are not a prescription for happy living. It is true that the word we translate as "blessing" also means "happy." Jesus isn’t saying that poverty, hunger, suffering, or weakness are a path to happiness. Sometimes the Beatitudes get sold to us as a promise that if we take on these qualities, they will guarantee our happiness. But the truth is that peacemaking, showing mercy, and hungering and thirsting for righteousness are things that are pretty likely to make our lives more difficult, even if these things are worth doing.

2. These are not conditions for receiving God's love. Sometimes we’ve been told that if we are meek and if we are pure hearted and if we pursue peace and justice, then - and only then - will we have God’s favor. But the Beatitudes aren’t a list of how to make God like us better. They aren’t a set of guidelines for how to earn God’s favor.

The Beatitudes, instead, are Jesus’ way of laying out his mission, and his way of talking about the peculiar nature of God’s kingdom. Where the world praises strength, God seeks out weakness.

The rest of the world might say, “Blessed are the rich, the happy, the assertive, the fulfilled, the strong, the determined, and the powerful.”

But Jesus says that in God’s kingdom, blessing comes to the poor, the grieving, the meek, the seekers, the merciful, the innocent, the peacemakers, and the oppressed. To those who the world sees as weak or unimportant, God gives gifts of comfort, fulfillment, mercy, intimacy with God himself.

Similarly, Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, tells us that to those whose present condition is weakness, foolishness, lowliness, rejection, and emptiness, God has promised life, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption; God chooses those who cannot boast of themselves in order that they reveal Christ by boasting only in the Lord.

This is good news for us when we are facing seasons of weakness in our life; when we can’t quite make some of our ends meet.

But it is challenging news for us when we realize that we are in a season of strength, when we have plenty, when our spirits are full, when life is going well and it doesn’t seem like we need a lot of divine assistance or intervention.

In my office, I have a poster print of a short prayer that says, “To those who have hunger, give bread; And to those who have bread, give the hunger for justice.”

This is my reminder that there are two sides to God’s kingdom. There are those who hunger - who need to receive the hope of the kingdom. And there are those who have bread - who are called to seek justice and to bring the kingdom to those who need it.

God, speaking through the prophet Micah, reminds the people of his saving acts; he has proven himself to be a God concerned with his people, who has consistently moved his people from the difficulties of their present condition into his future, who has, in so many words, given bread to the hungry. And so what is the proper response to God's ongoing gifts of salvation? Lavish acts of worship? No. The proper response to God's gift of salvation, Micah tells us, is fervent acts of justice, mercy, and humility.

Environmentalist and author Paul Hawken says, ”When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t understand data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a pulse. What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.”

This is the twofold beauty of God’s kingdom. Weakness and power are both bound together and redeemed in Christ on the cross, who turned weakness to power, and brought to nothing the powers of sin and death.

By the cross, we have the assurance that God's favor doesn't depend on our success or failure or life status. God's concern lies with transforming our present condition, whether that be a condition of hunger or plenty, of weakness or strength. The cross gives us the hope and assurance that our present condition in Christ trumps our present condition in the world; that our future condition is bound up in redemption and not despair.

This message is a great equalizer. The easy-to-stomach good news is that our weakness and shortcomings have no bearing on how much God loves and cares for us. The harder-to-swallow good news is that our successes and strengths have no bearing on how much God loves us and cares for us.

The good news of the kingdom of God is this: for those whose present condition is unfortunate, the kingdom of God comes to them; for those whose present condition is fortunate, the kingdom of God is theirs to bring about.

"What I love about the ministry of Jesus is that he identified the poor as blessed and the rich as needy...and then he went and ministered to them both. This, I think, is the difference between charity and justice. Justice means moving beyond the dichotomy between those who need and those who supply and confronting the frightening and beautiful reality that we desperately need one another." - Rachel Held Evans, A Year of Biblical Womanhood

So if you are in a season of weakness, take heart. The kingdom of God belongs to you. You are blessed and beloved in God’s sight.

And if you are in a season of strength, take heart. The kingdom of God is yours to bring about. You are blessed to be a blessing.

I close with some further words of blessing - a fourfold Franciscan benediction that both blesses us and challenges us to be blessings in our world:

May God bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.

May God bless you with holy anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.

May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really can make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God's grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.

Amen.

"Calling Disciples" He Qi, 1997

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

"Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles —
the people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned."

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near."

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea — for they were fishermen. And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

--Matthew 4:12-23

"Down the mountain" by Raoul Pop, on Flickr

Once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him, he asked them, "Who do the crowds say that I am?" They answered, "John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen." He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter answered, "The Messiah of God."

He sternly ordered and commanded them not to tell anyone, saying, "The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised." Then he said to them all, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah" — not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen listen to him!" When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen. (Luke 9:18-24; 28-36)
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It is the second semester of the school year, and our Confirmation students are taking this whole winter and spring to learn about important characters and stories in the New Testament. A week ago, we learned about the twelve disciples. We learned that they were a bunch of relative nobodies who were yet chosen by Jesus to be his followers. We also learned that they were well-meaning and eager, but prone to confusion and misunderstanding. If you read through the gospels, you will find plenty of places where the disciples simply miss the point of what Jesus tries to teach them. Far from unredeemable characters, the disciples often are stand-ins for us, as we try to follow Jesus faithfully while still hanging on to the burden of being human.

Today’s gospel is another one of those stories, where Jesus and the disciples keep speaking past each other. The disciples fixate on the glory of God while Jesus tries to teach them about sacrifice and discipleship.

Everything starts right after Jesus has done a significant miracle – feeding thousands with just a few loaves of bread. Peter, having seen the glory of this and other miracles, confesses Jesus as Messiah.

Immediately, Jesus turns the conversation away from glory and instead talks about the cross, which is the opposite of glory, and he tells the disciples that the point of his life, and the point of their discipleship, is sacrifice.

Then, they go up the mountain. Jesus prays, and while he is praying, the glory of God shines through him and he is transfigured – his face sparkles, his clothes are dazzling white, it is a picture of light and glory.

Elijah and Moses show up to talk to Jesus about his departure – he is on his way to Jerusalem, where he will be arrested and crucified and will die in an ultimate act of sacrifice. He’s on his way forward to the least glorious days of his life.

Peter and James and John are a little way away, and they can’t hear what Jesus and his companions are talking about, but they see the shininess of the moment, and Jesus’ dazzling white clothes, and the faces of Elijah and Moses, two incredibly important and revered ancestors in faith.

So Peter tries to be helpful. There is glory on that mountaintop – transcendence and safety and mystery and beauty. And he wants to believe that that this is what following Jesus is all about, even though Jesus has just told him that discipleship is about sacrifice and not about glory. So Peter says “it is good for us to be here; I’ll grab my hammer to build us some dwellings, and we can just stay up here indefinitely.”

He is interrupted by a cloud that overshadows the shininess of the moment, and the voice of God from the cloud that reminds Peter, “This is my Son, my Chosen – LISTEN TO HIM!” It’s God, saying to the disciples, “didn’t you listen to what Jesus just told you about suffering and sacrifice?” It’s God, saying to the disciples, “Instead of taking charge of the moment and figuring out how to construct the First Lutheran Church of the Transfiguration on this mountaintop, maybe you should first let Jesus talk and see what he wants you to do.” It’s God, saying to the disciples and to us, “This is Jesus, and I have given him a mission and purpose on this earth, and the way to be a part of this mission is to let Jesus take the lead, no matter how much you want to control things, no matter how much you think you might know best.” It is God, telling us, “Take a step back from the shiny, mysterious, glorious stuff for a minute, and remember that the heart of my love is found among the rough lumber and crude nails of the cross.”

Jesus keeps pulling the disciples away from glory and pushing them toward discipleship. Jesus keeps reminding them that faith isn’t just about chasing the shiny stuff and God’s grace isn’t an excuse to settle down on top of the mountain, basking in glory. Following Jesus is all about love for neighbor and service and humility and witness, about keeping on the move to find new places to share God’s hope.

Like Peter and James and John, we are so often tempted by all of the shiny stuff, even as Adam and Eve themselves were tempted by a shiny apple way back in the garden. We are tempted by the shiny stuff of this world – money, fame, power, glory. And we are tempted by the shiny, mountaintop moments in our lives of faith – worship experiences that move us to places of transcendence, intense moments of feeling God’s presence, the enlivening sensation of receiving free grace and forgiveness.

Certainly not all bad things, of course. I mean, there’s a reason that we talk about Jesus as light in the darkness; we are blessed to see God shining in all sorts of ways in our world, and the light of Christ brings hope and joy to dark corners of the world.

There’s no question that God is shining among this St. Timothy family. Have you ever stopped to consider how many projects and programs we sustain for the size of our congregation? It’s amazing. We study together at Bible studies and book groups. Our kids go to Sunday School and sing in worship, we have a huge group of Confirmation students and a super-active and leadership-oriented high school group. We care for one another, pray for each other and often reach out to one another with meals or a listening ear. We give lots of money and stuff and time to a whole host of ministry partnerships, helping those who are hungry or homeless or voiceless or sick. We worship together faithfully, creatively, and beautifully. There is music all over the place, and art. There are leaders here, and worker bees, creative types and those blessed with the gifts of understanding church budgets or driving the Bobcat or supplying us with their green thumbs.

On a day like today, when I stand at the top of this mountain with you, I am ready to raise up my hammer. And I’ll bet you are too.

But God is here in this place today, overshadowing us and removing the tools from our hands. He reminds us that faith isn’t an excuse to camp out on top of a mountain. God says to us “trust in Jesus, my chosen one, and listen to his voice; and follow him down the mountain because he is leading you forward in my name.”

And so together, we begin to take our first steps down this mountain, with Jesus as our guide.

For me, climbing down the mountain means following Jesus to a new place and a new expression of my call to ministry.

For you, climbing down the mountain means exploring again the mission and ministry of St. Timothy Lutheran Church and looking at the new doors that God is opening up; new ways of reaching out to the community, new ways of sharing Christ’s love in this neighborhood in this community in this country in this world, taking stock of your gifts and passions, and learning anew where this congregation’s passions and this world’s needs intersect.

And for each of us, climbing down the mountain means digging in deep and taking a risk on our faith. We are redeemed and beloved children of God, chosen by love and saved by grace. Jesus’ voice challenges each of us to take new steps forward in our own lives of discipleship, crossing boundaries, taking risks, doing the hard and vulnerable work of really living as disciples. Jesus’ voice asks us to wear our faith on our sleeve, to take a risk on compassion and generosity, to see everyone as beloved, to put other people’s needs ahead of our own, to shine like stars, to bear the good fruit of faith, to seek lives of service instead of lives of glory.

It’s hard work. It’s emotional work. It isn’t easy to step beyond what we know. It isn’t easy to stretch our faith beyond its comfortable boundaries. But we trust Jesus to lead us and to be with us every step of the way. In every step down the mountain, through every mile along the road, to every new challenge of faith, Jesus is with us. His voice calls to us, and we can trust it, and when we listen to it we hear Jesus say “I am the good shepherd.” We hear him say “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” We hear him say “You are the light of the world” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” We hear him say “Blessed are you who hunger and thirst for righteousness” and “Come to me, all you who are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” We hear him say “Go, therefore, into all the world, making disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” We hear him say, “This is my body, given for you, and my blood, shed for you.”

And so, fed and nourished for the journey, we follow Jesus down the mountain, our faces shining as his beloved, ready to give ourselves as bread for the world and hope for the hopeless. May your journeys be blessed, my friends, and your steps sure. May you shine like stars in the heavens, and may God bless and protect you until we all meet again atop his holy mountain once again.