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©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson
Emmanual, God with us, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.
Good morning, beloved Apostles! As we gather on this first Sunday in the year of Our Lord 2025, our readings and prayers lead us into a profoundly important theme: restoration. We heard it in Jeremiah's prophecy of God gathering and reconciling with His people. It was proclaimed in Matthew's Gospel of God's protective presence amid political violence. And, we prayed it in the collect that began our service: “O God, who wonderfully created, and yet more wonderfully restored, the dignity of human nature.”
Today, I want to reflect on that phrase: “and yet more wonderfully restored, the dignity of human nature.”
Several years ago, my uncle Bill decided to restore my grandmother’s 1965 Ford Mustang in beautiful teal. For seasons of my life that car looked like a lost cause—it was hidden under a cover in my grandparents’ basement, the white leather seats were cracked, and the engine barely functional. But my uncle saw its potential. Slowly, with a lot of love and even more sweat, he began to bring it back to life. Yet there came a point where his tools and knowledge weren’t enough. He needed to reach out for help from others who had restored this make and model before.
That’s the thing about restoration: it’s both exhilarating and humbling. Whether it’s a car, a house, or even a relationship, the process reminds us of two truths. First, restoration requires work. Second, we can’t do it alone.
The same is true for us. Look around, and it’s clear that we live in a broken world. Jeremiah’s words about the scattered people of Israel feel just as relevant today. We see the cracks and fractures—in our personal lives, in our local communities, and across the globe.
This week alone, we’ve grieved over terrorist attacks in New Orleans and Las Vegas. The despair and depravity of such violence weighs heavily on us. In our Gospel lesson, we were reminded of another horrific event: King Herod’s massacre of the innocents. If you are unfamiliar with this gruesome part of the Christmas story, it was when in an attempt to murder the Christ child, the despot Herod killed all the first-born sons of Bethlehem. These stories—past and present—confront us with the depth of human brokenness.
But brokenness isn’t the final word. Jeremiah’s prophecy reminds us that God is not distant. Instead, God is intimate. God is with us in the messiness. And God is in the business of restoration, gathering the scattered, turning mourning into joy, and sorrow into dancing.
Sometimes, though, we believe things must work on our timeline. We “wrestle” control away from God. That it’s all got to be okay RIGHT NOW! At other times, we think restoration means we need to meet God halfway—that we must pull ourselves together and only then approach God. But that’s not the Gospel. That’s not good news at all—that’s conditional, quid pro quo, you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours—that’s the way of the world. That’s not the Gospel, for God’s grace—favor unearned and undeserved—meets us where we are, even in our most hopeless moments.
Consider the Holy Family’s flight to Egypt. From a worldly perspective, they weren’t safe. They weren’t secure. They were running for their lives, fleeing from a murderous madman. And yet, God’s presence was with them, guiding them to safety and eventually to a new home. This is the surprising truth of grace: it finds us in the wilderness, in the broken places, and begins the work of restoration. As Max Lucado wrote and former Presiding Bishop Michael Curry was fond of quoting, “God will love you where you are, but God will never leave you where you are!”
And here’s an amazing truth—God invites us to be part of this work. Like my uncle restoring that car, we’re called to roll up our sleeves and participate in God’s mission of healing, renewal, and sharing unearned-undeserved favor. Sometimes that looks like repairing a relationship. Sometimes it’s working for justice in our community. Sometimes it’s simply showing kindness to someone in need.
But just as my uncle needed help to finish the restoration, we must remember that we’re not doing this alone. God’s power is what ultimately transforms and restores. We do our part, but God’s grace both initiates and completes the work. Speaking of starting and finishing work.
At this time of year, many of us are thinking about resolutions. Maybe you’ve resolved to eat healthier, exercise more, or spend more time with family. These are good goals, but what if we thought about resolutions as part of God’s restoration process? What if we resolved to align our lives more fully with God’s vision for us and the world? What would it look like if restoration was our resolution for this year?
Restoration in our resolutions could look like this:
- Repairing Relationships: Commit to forgiving someone or seeking forgiveness where it is needed.
- Creating Space for God: Resolve to set aside time for prayer, Scripture reading, or worship.
- Caring for Creation: Take small steps to live more sustainably, recognizing that the restoration of the Earth is part of God’s mission.
- Building Community: Volunteer your time, support local ministries, or simply be present with those who need encouragement.
- Fostering Personal Wholeness: Instead of focusing only on self-improvement, consider how your growth contributes to the well-being of others.
These resolutions remind us that restoration is not just about fixing what is broken but about participating in God’s greater work of renewal.
As a church, we’re called to be a community of restoration. This means grieving with those who grieve, standing with those who are broken, and offering hope to a world in need. It means being a place where people can encounter the grace of God—the grace that meets us where we are and invites us into something new.
Speaking of hope and encountering the grace of God, at the end of today’s service, I will be passing out “Star Words.” You may remember this practice from a couple years ago when the Rev. Emily Collette was here as an Associate Rector. Each star bears a word—a single point of focus for the coming year. These words invite us to reflect and center our intentions. Much like the star that guided the Magi to Jesus, a Star Word can offer us a sense of direction, encouraging us to seek God’s presence and purpose as we step into the restorative work God calls us to do.
Having an intentional point, like a Star Word, reminds us that restoration isn’t aimless. It’s a journey with God, guided by grace and anchored in hope. Let your word guide you as you consider how you might participate in God’s renewing and restoring work this year.
Beloved Apostles, restoration is hard work. It’s humbling work. But it’s holy work. And the good news is that God is with us every step of the way. God’s grace meets us in our brokenness, restores our dignity, and calls us to join in the healing of the world.
So, as we step into this New Year, let us trust in God’s promise of restoration. Let us do the work we can, lean on God for what we cannot, and together, let us reflect the glory of a broken world being wonderfully restored by God’s grace. Amen.
