Ponder All These Things: 2022

Sunday, December 18, 2022

Waking Into God’s Dream

This week's Gospel is not only about Joseph's dream—it's also about waking up.

Emmanuel, God with us, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

“I can’t do it,” said the little voice. I looked down at the six-year-old boy beside me. The genuine perplexity with which he said, “I can’t do it,” made it just about impossible for me to be upset. Of course, it was only the first day of camp, and pretty quickly I learned that whatever I asked this child to do—put on shoes, get ready for the pool, make his bed, brush his teeth—whatever I asked, the reply was always the same: “I can’t do it.”

By Tuesday, my feeling that this little one was a cute child of God had melted into thinking that perhaps this was a Job situation, and I was being tested by God Almighty. Only 15 years-old, at the time, I did not have a firm grip on my emotions (do I now?). So, as the camper kept saying, “I can’t do it,” my patience wore thinner and thinner. To top it off, the entire cabin of twelve children had seemingly caught this “I can’t bug,” as they all joined in the negative chorus.

Kevin Denson was the other leader in my cabin. We had been campers together for a few years, so we had a good rapport with one another. As we sat down on Tuesday evening, he looked as tired as I felt. So, I asked him, “What should we do?” His response was as malicious as it was brilliant, “Maybe we could use a devotion.” Of course, I thought, “We could turn to the Word of God to force misbehaving children into shaping up.” I know, I am not proud of what I did, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

That very same night we turned to verses in Scripture to illustrate our point. God does not want us to respond by saying “No, I can’t,” rather we are to say I can. Philippians 4:13 reads, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” “For God all things are possible,” Mark’s Gospel account proclaims. We hammered home our message by saying, instead of telling us I can’t do it, say I can, for God helps us to do all things.

Really, even though we had bad intentions the message was a good one. And, perhaps it was our brilliant teaching, but more likely it was that by Tuesday all the campers were exhausted. Hiking, horseback riding, canoeing, swimming, games, and singing—it all wore the campers out such that they fell fast asleep. At least, for a while.

What you may not know about the camp where I grew up is that the bathrooms are a short walk from the cabins. To teenage me that was nothing, but to a six-year-old in the middle of the night it must have felt like a lengthy trek. Now, sometime around two o’clock in the morning, the boy who had started the, “I can’t do it” movement came and knocked on my door. Half awake, I sat up in my bed. “Buddy, what do you need? It’s really late.” He responded, “I can. I can go to the bathroom.” By which, he really meant I can’t go to the bathroom, at least not without a leader. I got a little teary-eyed as I found my bathhouse sandals. This sweet little child of God had tried his best to understand our message. He tried to stay positive and to say, “Yes, I can with God’s help,” even if he could not.

So often we think of Advent as Mary’s season of “yes,” but today’s Gospel lesson depicts Joseph as a profound model of “I can do this” with God’s help. Joseph, does not get a lot of publicity, but he is a model of faith, an example of trust, and a righteous man, or at least he becomes one with God’s help! Yet digging deeper reveals that this story is not just about Joseph affirming God’s call, it is about us—you and me, this community—taking part in God’s YES! So, let’s take a look closer.

In those days, betrothal, like that between Mary and Joseph, was a legal and binding contract made between the elders of families. Mary and Joseph may not have had much say in this process. Then, when Joseph discovered Mary was with child, he would have been right within the law, according to the book of Deuteronomy (22:23-27), not only to dismiss his betrothed quietly, but also to put her to death, as she had broken the contract. This is an instance of what is legal, what is ethical or Godly being worlds apart! Yet, Joseph planned to say, “I can’t do it,” in a respectful manner. Then, everything changed.

“Just when Joseph resolved to [dismiss Mary quietly], an angel of the Lord appeared to him.” At the start of the dream, the angel identified Joseph, as the Son of David, which put some historical perspective around this. This correct identification also meant that God knew exactly who Joseph was. God intervened into Joseph’s life to invite this Son of David into something different.

The beginning of Matthew’s Gospel account reads like a beta version of Ancestry.com, which is amusing, except that so many of the members of David’s line did not adhere to the way of God—did any of them? Even David didn’t. There were troubling women in Jesus’ ancestry primarily because there were unfaithful men in his lineage. Bathsheba’s wrong doing was because of David’s own, Tamar’s was a result of Judah’s, and Joseph could have added to that, but he did not.[1]

If you know anything about generational trauma this tiny step is huge. Joseph stopped a cycle. Do we hope for something more from Jesus’ earthly father? Of course! Still to dismiss Mary quietly was a start, or more correctly stated, it was an opening that God utilized.

In this opening, the angel first invited Joseph to live without fear. Yes, it’s easier said than done. And yet, without fear Joseph could then hear the messenger say that this child was not ill-conceived but conceived by the Holy Spirit. God’s Spirit came to bear life in Mary in this unique way. Once his trepidation waned, Joseph could hear God’s good news—that this child within his betrothed was holy.

As the dream continued, Joseph learned that he was to name this child Jesus. While this was nothing novel in Jewish history, as Ishmael, Isaac, Solomon, and Josiah all had their names revealed to their family in dreams, God was doing something new here! The angel indicated what was meant by this name.

Jesus, or Joshua in Hebrew, means Savior. He would save his people from their sins. The child within Mary would wipe away the disconnection, the wrong, and the hurt that kept people from God, from each other, and from their truest selves. This was good news in a good dream, but we cannot live merely in dreams.

Perhaps the most unremarkable bit of this passage is that Joseph woke up. However, he did more than simply opening his eyes. In Advent, we sing songs like, “Sleepers Wake,”—“When we hear the heralds singing,
and in our hearts new joy is springing; we wake, and rise up from our gloom; for our Friend comes down all-glorious.”[2] This sounds like Joseph who woke up to see not a dream but God’s truth. With God’s help, Joseph made the impossible dream come true! The “I can’t do it” in the nighttime turned into the “I can” of the morning.

You might be saying, “Okay, so why is all of this important to me?” or “This is all so crazy, why did it happen this way?” Could God have come into this world in another way? Certainly! Who are we to limit the Creator of the Universe? Matthew though, added a prophecy to help interpret this passage.

Isaiah, the prophet, foretold of this miraculous birth. Yes, Joseph was to name him Jesus, but the child would grow into Emmanuel, which means “God is with us.” The reality that Joseph awakened into was God is with us! The God of all Creation came to be with us! At the end of Matthew’s Gospel account, Jesus reiterated this truth saying, “I will be with you always, even to the end of the ages.” God comes to be with us—in Creation, in stillness, in relationship, in song, in Scripture, in worship, in dreams, but in the person of Jesus, God shows us the fullness of what it means for God to dwell with us. In response, we are called to be like Joseph, and maybe that sounds like a low bar.

However, Joseph could have said no to this dream. Joseph could have dismissed Mary. Joseph could have even had Mary put to death. Yet, he listened not to his ancestry, but to the messenger of God. We too are asked to be open to what God is calling us to do and who God is calling us to be. Joseph said I can do this with your help, God. The way in which God responded was by coming to be with Mary and Joseph. We too are invited with each other’s help, with God’s help to heal generational wounds, to dream with the Spirit, and to awaken, so that we might make God’s dream a reality!

Advent is a season of Mary’s yes, and it is a season of Joseph’s yes. This means it’s a season of YES AND! It’s a time for healing AND for dreaming. It’s a chance for us to wake up AND make the dream come true. It’s a season of bearing Christ AND being with those who do! This Advent, I wonder, how is God transforming your “I can’t do it” into “I can with God’s help”? I wonder, what is God’s dream for you, for All Saints, and for this community? I wonder, in what ways are you awakening to the truth of Emmanuel? As we move ever closer to the Season of the Incarnation remember that God is with us then, now, and even unto the end of the ages.

[1] Joy J. Moore, “Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A.” on Sermon Brainwave Podcast. [released December 10, 2022. Accessed December 13, 2022. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/sermon-brainwave-876-fourth-sunday-of-advent/id1538186845?i=1000589921282].

[2] “Sleepers Wake.” In Hymnal 1982. Words: Philipp Nicolai. Translation: Carl P. Daw Jr.. Music: Wachet auf, melody Hans Sachs, adapted by Philipp Nicolai; originally by Johann Sebastian Bach.

Sunday, November 13, 2022

Movement of God’s People

What is building within your communities?

Isaiah 65:17-25
Canticle 9
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
Luke 21:5-19

Holy God, Enduring One, the Alpha and the Omega, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

This week I had the absolute gift of attending some continuing education. This retreat—Discerning Leadership for Redeveloping Congregations—is put on by the Episcopal Church for those wondering about how the Spirit might be moving to build vibrant communities, especially beyond Covid-tide. I am grateful that my colleagues, this parish, and my family supported me in attending to this important work. I consider this work holy—sacred to this community and to the larger diocesan community where I serve as the chair of the Department of Parish Development and Evangelism. I share this with you because this retreat adjusted my lens of viewing this Gospel lesson for today.

I will get to Jesus’ prognosticating about the toppling of the temple in a moment, but first, I’m wondering, have you seen Lorna Davis’ TED Talk? She is a businesswoman who has worked as CEO of companies across the world. In her message called, “A Guide to Collaborative Leadership,” she describes the typical way of going about leading in Western society. Someone well dressed—maybe in a power suit of some sort—gets up and sells everyone within a company or a community on their vision. There’s some clapping afterward, and initial excitement. Everyone buys into the vision for a bit. However, rarely, does the entire community get on board.

Davis described a scenario when she was leading the Chinese arm of Craft Foods. All the meetings were in English, even though that was very few team-member’s native tongue. They all went along with the vision of Davis, but their product launches were largely unsuccessful. Then, a shift occurred. Davis shifted the language of the meetings to Chinese and invited every team member to share their opinion. The results were markedly different—and if you are a fan of Green Tea flavored Oreos, you can thank these meetings for their origination.

In this example, we can see an important shift away from the heroism of selling people on a vision and towards wondering, what can we do together? What might emerge if we listen to one another—to the larger community? Where might we go together? Which brings me back to the Temple.

When those with Jesus entered the Temple, it was a sight to behold. Luke really doesn’t do it justice. Herod the Great had sparred no expense! White marble adorned parts of the inner temple—up to sixty-seven feet long. Blue, scarlet, and purple Babylonian tapestries draped the entrance to the holy of holies. Gold- and silver-plated gates guarded the way into the Temple.[1] It was very nice! This project was important to the worship of the Jewish people; however, it was the pet project of those who were in power—politically, culturally, and religiously. Thus, even though there were many who were starving at those gold-plated gates, this was the work that the heroes sold as the most important thing the community could do.

Those with Jesus took note of how beautiful this Temple was, but the teacher saw beyond the silver and marble. He knew that soon enough even this important and beautiful place would not be standing—it would be destroyed such that not a stone would be left upon another.

Jesus was immediately quizzed by those around him, not if this would happen, but when and how they would know it was happening. First, Jesus warned against following those who claimed to know the timing of the impending destruction. Then, he pointed to horrific events—wars, famine, natural disaster—things that we do not have to look too far to see in our own world. But, the more pressing apocalyptic indicator was when persecutions would happen for following in the way of Jesus. The followers of this way would even face opposition from family and friends. Some would even taste death because of this affiliation.

These words are hard to hear. Not only because the stories of martyrs in ages past and present break our heart, but also because we may start to wonder, Jesus when you spoke about holy walls toppling, were you talking about our beloved churches too? The hymn “All My Hope On God Is Founded” possesses one of the most poignant stanzas in any of our hymnody, “Mortal pride and earthly glory, sword and crown betray our trust; though with care and toil we build them, tower and temple fall to dust. But God's power, hour by hour, is my temple and my tower.” (The Hymnal 1982, Hymn 665)

God, forbid that here. This place is holy. Soaked with the prayers of almost seventy-five years. I’ve shed tears here. I’ve filmed silly videos—like the cassock challenge—right over there. The beloved soul about to join my family—I hope she’ll be baptized in that gorgeous font. I do not want anything to happen to this beloved space. However, the pandemic taught us that the church—the Community of All Saints—is not a building—it’s a people. It never has been just a building—it’s not now—it never will be. The church left the building during the Pandemic, and while that scares many of us (including me), that is a good thing—a very good thing.

What happens in here each week is food for the journey. It’s practicing the way the world could be. We process in, we pray, we sing God’s praise, we hear God’s Word, we ask and receive forgiveness, we are fed as the Body of Christ with the Body of Christ, then we process out into the world. That last piece is important. You may not think about it, but when you walk out, you are part of the procession. You are going out in peace to love and serve the Lord.

The going out is of utmost importance. You are going as a beloved member of this community to serve all those other communities to which you belong—your school, your offices, your civic organizations; your family, your friends, your neighborhood; your trivia team, your R/C flying squad, your running group… your people. However, you are not going out to be a hero. You are going to be a part of those communities, as leaven to help others rise, as light to illuminate all that God is already doing, as love that binds us one to another.

Sometimes when we process out into the problems of this world, we might falsely believe that together we are not enough. We might mistakenly think that we do not collectively have enough. We might even buy into the half-truth that it’s too difficult to find any good news. None of this is true when we realize we have each other. May we be reminded of what is true, as said so succinctly in the last line from Wendell Berry’s poem “The Wild Geese,” What we need is here.

What we need is here—within the communities to which we already belong, what we need is here!

What we need is here. May we see that truth in this community of All Saints, the communities to which we belong, and in the beloved community of God. Because it’s not the size of the steeple, but the movement of God’s people.

[1] Debra J. Mumford. “Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost: Not everyone is who they claim to be” The Working Preacher. [https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-33-3/commentary-on-luke-215-19-5, accessed November 3, 2022.]