Monthly Archives: December 2016

Better suited?

Readings: Psalm 21; Isaiah 41:14-20; Romans 15:14-21

…from Jerusalem and as far around as Illiricum I have fully proclaimed the good news of Christ. Thus I make it my ambition to proclaim the good news, not where Christ has already been named, so that I do not build on someone else’s foundation, but as it is written, “Those who have never been told of him shall see, and those who have never heard of him shall understand.” Romans 15:19b-21

“Well, that is just sin.” This was the answer a retired pastor gave when the president of the seminary said that perhaps clergy from his denomination were called to serve educated, middle class and wealthy churches. In fairness to the seminary president, I think he meant that the training the seminary provided was geared toward those groups.

In fairness to the retired pastor, such a sentiment is just sin – sin as in missing the point in some crucial way, heading in the wrong direction even with the best of intentions. The point isn’t to find the most comfortable match between a pastor and congregation, or between the educational backgrounds of congregants and seminarians. The point is to share the astonishing truth that God loves us. The point is to encourage one another to live in that love, and to love and serve all of God’s beloved children. See God in Christ! Listen to him! Everything else is a side issue.

If I take the life and words of Jesus seriously, I have to admit that it was usually the strangers and foreigners and the needy and uneducated who recognized God-With-Us. If this is true, I suspect that those who shall see, and those who shall understand aren’t necessarily the ones who are familiar with church and its customs and leaders. If this is true, Paul served the ones best equipped to recognize Jesus when they met him. Perhaps he thought his the easier road…

Come, Lord Jesus, Come. Give me eyes to see you and ears to hear your voice. I don’t want to miss you.

A Life of Quiet Aspiration

Readings: Psalm 21; Isaiah 24:1-16a; I Thessalonians 4:1-12

But we urge you, more and more, to aspire to live quietly, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we directed you, so that you may behave properly toward outsiders and be dependent on no one. I Thess. 4:10-12

The world is a noisy place these days. It’s almost impossible to be in public without hearing a phone ring, sing, or yell. Motion sensitive holiday displays startle passersby in malls and on sidewalks. This external noise is often matched, sometimes even exceeded, by the internal cacophony of thoughts, feelings, and songs running through the mind. In such a world, to aspire to live quietly is as much a literal challenge as it is a lifestyle choice.

There is a big difference between lowering the volume and pace of life and muting or unplugging it. I don’t think this is recommending a life of silence or hiding. I think it’s a call to cultivating inner and outer quiet, keeping the stereo of my life at a volume that won’t frighten the neighbors or deafen me.

Living quietly brings with it blessings that a full volume life just can’t. I will hear what someone means, not just the words spoken. I will listen for God in the still, small voices of birds and crickets. I can pay attention to the inner voices of peace and compassion that often get drowned out by the louder voices of fear and worry. I can mind my own inner and outer affairs well enough to notice when others could use my help – and well enough to notice when my help is neither requested nor required.

A quiet life is a blessed life, and a life that can bless others. It’s something I aspire to. Quietly.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Hope

Readings: Malachi 3:1-4 or Baruch 5:1-9; Luke 1:68-79; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

Today in churches throughout the world we light the second purple candle on the Advent wreath—the candle of HOPE. Hope has two meanings in the Bible: tiqvah—anticipation, a sense of eagerly awaiting something; and eipis—confident expectation based on certitude. I love Jim Wallis’ definition of hope as believing in spite of the evidence and then watching the evidence change. 

In the Hebrew scriptures we read of the certain hope of the coming of the Messiah and the restoration of Jerusalem. One of the appointed readings for today is taken from the Apocrypha—the book of Baruch, where in stirring prose Jerusalem is told to look to the east and see the joy that is coming from God. Look, your children are coming, whom you sent away…rejoicing in the glory of God (4:36,37) and continues into today’s reading: “Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.(5:1)

In the gospel reading for today we have the magnificent “Benedictus”—” The Song of Zechariah “ (Luke 1:68-79):

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.

He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David,

as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old.”

The fulfillment of one thousand years of hoping is made manifest this day in the temple—giving certainty to our anticipation of the coming of the Word among us, as if to say—”Believe! The evidence is changing!”

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered by Bill Albritton, teacher and seeker of the Christ Child.

Where Did I Come From?

Readings: Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Isaiah 30:19-26; Acts 13:16-25

“I have found David, son of Jesse, to be a man after my heart, who will carry out all my wishes.” Of this man’s posterity God has brought to Israel a Savior, Jesus, as he promised; before his coming John had already proclaimed a baptism of repentance to all the people of Israel. 

Acts 13:22-24

Candles lit, prayers said, Bibles read…the Christian community of faith approaches the manger through Advent practices that keep us on the dusty road to Bethlehem. Trying our best to walk in faith through a world that celebrates Christmas as a time to acquire new clothes and an excuse to eat and drink, some of us focus on keeping Christ in Christmas rather than on something altogether obvious but often overlooked: Jesus of Nazareth wasn’t Christian. God With Us was born into and fostered by an older faith – a faith he followed devoutly as a rabbi.

With every psalm I read, with the words of the prophets in my heart, in every New Testament account of Jesus, I inherit the blessing of a faith that gave birth to my own spiritual home. The Christian tradition didn’t spring fully grown from nowhere: it was birthed by the Jewish faith as surely as Jesus was born to Mary and Joseph.

May I remember where my faith came from this Advent, and honor those who keep it.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Power

Readings: Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Isaiah 4:2-6; Acts 1:12-17, 21-26

May he judge your people with righteousness, and your poor with justice…

May he be like rain that falls on mown grass, like showers that water the earth. Ps. 72: 2, 6

“Let another take his position of overseer.” Acts 1: 20b

Power corrupts if it is attained and exercised for its own sake. Power also exhausts the one who wields it if he or she is not grounded in something far more gracious than personal talent, drive, and energy. It’s why communities of faith pray for those who hold the reins of government – not so much a statement of agreement for a particular agenda, but a recognition that without a connection to something holy it will end in damage.

Today’s psalm reminds us that leaders can choose to rule for the benefit of those who will never have enough money to help them get re-elected, whose influence cannot open political doors. Ruling for the good of those who most need help rather than those who can offer material reward is a road less travelled, but it will make all the difference. The Acts reading implies that the best leader might not be the one who wants it the most: it might be someone whose constancy and service is evident to others.

If I judge leaders by a higher and holier standard of serving the least and last, I must also judge myself by that higher and holier standard. Am I serving the needy in the work I do, or am I serving only those who can reward me in material goods or influence? In the end, the blessing I offer others without seeking reward brings peace. In the end, the blessing I withhold because it doesn’t line my pockets or promote my welfare will shrink my soul in proportion to the harm I do to others.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.