Hands

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christian Unity Prayer Service

January 18, 2018

Hands

          The book “The Poisonwood Bible” tells the story of the Price family, a Baptist family who, in 1959, left their home in Georgia to save the lost souls of the Congo.  Barbara Kingsolver’s story details the mostly frustrated attempts of the family patriarch, Nathan, to single handedly save the souls of the Congolese people by forcing both Christianity and western culture on them.  The disasters run from the failure of Price’s allegedly superior western plants to bear fruit in the Congo, to the death of the Price’s young daughter, to Price’s utter inability to convert the Congolese to Christianity.  When I first read “The Poisonwood Bible” some years ago, I was struck by the missionary zeal of Nathan Price and the extent to which the Bible was used to divide and control rather than to unite and liberate.

          I could not help but think about “The Poisonwood Bible” when I read the materials for today’s Christian Unity service.  The materials and worship service for today were developed by Christians in the Caribbean, which is a vast and diverse expanse of islands in the Caribbean Sea.  Sadly, one of the things that Caribbean countries and territories have in common is the connection to slavery and European colonization.  The Bible was often used to justify slavery and oppression in the Caribbean as the Bible was used to do the same in our own country.  And yet, the Bible was also a source of hope for the people of the Caribbean as it was for slaves in the United States. 

          The dramatic story of the Exodus has long been a source of inspiration, comfort, and hope, for people in bondage.  Time and again, Scripture refers to the story of the Hebrew people’s miraculous escape from Egypt as the Egyptian army follows in hot pursuit.  If God’s right hand could shatter the Egyptians, surely God’s right hand can destroy any bondage or enslavement in any time or in any place.  The Exodus story not only tells of God’s saving work in the past; the story tells us that God wants liberation for God’s people in all times and in all places. 

          As a 21^st century Christian who lives in comfort and security here in Hudson, I have to say that I have a fundamental discomfort with the story as told in our passage from Exodus this morning.  The story does give credit where credit is due, praising God for God’s mighty acts in delivering the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt.  Only God could send plagues of locusts, or frogs or hail, or part the Red Sea.  I am all for giving God credit.  And yet, while God could have liberated the Hebrew people all by Godself, God chose to use Moses, to partner with Moses if you will, to save God’s people from the Egyptians.  Back in the third chapter of Exodus, God called Moses from the burning bush and said, in paraphrase, “I have heard the cry of my people who are in Egypt, and I am sending you to get my people out of there.”  Moses is none too pleased with this arrangement and offers all kinds of reasons why this is a bad idea.  But God is insistent, and describes the partnership God and Moses will have, by which God will convince Pharaoh to let God’s people go, and Moses will lead them out.

          God’s liberating work has been about partnership ever since God and Moses delivered the Hebrew people out of Egypt.  I see the same sort of godly partnership in the founding documents of the Caribbean Conference of Churches.  That document says, and I quote, “We, as Christian people of the Caribbean, because of our common calling in Christ, covenant to join together ….. to overcome the challenges created by history, language, culture, class, and distance.  We are therefore deeply committed to promoting peace, the holistic development of our people, and affirming social justice and the dignity of all persons.”  Together with God, the Christian people of the Caribbean have partnered together to do Exodus work and to deliver people from the varieties of bondage in which they find themselves today.

          The right hand of God is indeed glorious in power, and the power of God is used to liberate God’s people from bondage, working in all the ways described in the hymn we will sing this morning- writing, pointing, striking, lifting, healing and planting.  But what about God’s left hand? 

We are God’s left hand.  Whether Moses, or those who helped Jews to safety during the Holocaust, or Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, or people who work with victims of addiction, violence, or human trafficking, or God’s own son sent to free us from sin and death, God works in partnership.  The partnership of the churches in the Caribbean in an incarnation of that partnership. 

Jesus’ prayer for his disciples on the night before he died was not that his disciples would always agree.  His prayer was that his disciples would be one.   On the one hand, by being united, the disciples would mirror God’s love for the world.  On the other hand, by being one, the disciples could actually get something done as they continued Jesus’ liberating work.  We gather today to show God’s love to the world through our unity and to bind together because we can do so much more together than we can do apart as we continue God’s liberating work.

          One of my favorite television shows is “Call the Midwife.”  At the end of one grueling day, Sister Monica Joan, an elderly quite eccentric Anglican nun, encourages a young midwife who has had a long, hard day with these words. “The hands of the Almighty are often found at the ends of our own arms.”  May we be those hand, together.

                                                                             Amen.

          

Welcome

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 14, 2018

2 Epiphany B

          Late one afternoon, about 10 years ago, I was working in my office in Springfield, Ohio, when the phone rang.  If you have ever hung out in a church office, you know that we get all kinds of interesting phone calls.  We get phone calls from people needing a variety of kinds of assistance, or people with no connection to the Episcopal Church whatsoever who want to vent about some stand or other than the church has recently taken, or, my personal favorite-companies wanting to offer us a line of credit but needing to speak to the owner.  I would happily put the caller through directly to God if I could!

          That afternoon, however, the call was from a man named Alan Kimbrough.  Alan lived in Dayton, Ohio and was actually my husband’s cousin although we had never connected with Alan in all the years we had lived in Springfield.  Alan was looking for a church that would host the Dayton Gay Men’s Chorus for their Christmas concert.   The Chorus had several church venues in Dayton, but were looking to move out into wider community.  Would the Episcopal church in Springfield be willing to host?

          After some wonderful conversation with the vestry, I called Alan back to say that we would love to host the concert.  We had months in which to plan the hospitality, which we took very seriously.  We knew that exceptional hospitality would send one message and mediocre hospitality would send another message.  When the long-anticipated night finally arrived, we had ushers and greeters scattered throughout the building, which is as much of a maze as this church, and enough appetizers and dessert to feed a small army.  The church was packed with excited people who had come from as far away as Zanesville to hear the chorus.  The atmosphere was electric, and I could feel the energy in the room.  People stayed for a long time after the men sang and enjoyed the reception.  But what I will remember the most about that evening, and hope I never forget, is the number of people who came up to me that night and said, “This is the first time I have ever felt welcome in a church.”

          This morning, Jesus decides to go to Galilee where he finds Philip and says “Follow me.”  Philip then finds Nathaniel and tells him, with some excitement in his voice, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.”  Nathaniel should be excited, too.  Philip has found the long awaited Messiah.  But Nathaniel is somewhat less than enthusiastic.  “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” 

          By the end of the story, Nathaniel has declared that Jesus is the Son of God.  What changes Nathaniel’s mind about Jesus?  What convinces Nathaniel that something good has come out of Nazareth, and that this Jesus is worth following?  What happened was an encounter with Jesus in which Jesus sees something in Nathaniel that is good.  “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”  Even then, Nathaniel is skeptical.  “Where did you get to know me?”  Jesus replies “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.”  Jesus had noticed Philip under the fig tree when there was no real reason to notice the man.  When Nathaniel realizes that Jesus really saw him, and saw something in him that was good, Nathaniel is moved to say “Rabbi, you are the Son of God.” 

          “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”  When I talk with people who have never had a connection with church, and all they know about church is what they read about in the press or on social media, they wonder “Can anything good come out of church?”  At best, they see that we give up precious time on Sunday mornings, and often other times during the week.  We believe in a God we cannot see.  We pattern our lives around an ancient book.  We eat bread and drink wine that we call the body and blood of Christ.  We do lots of good works, but so do many other organizations.  At worst, they see church as an institution that divides rather than unites, that preaches judgement rather than compassion, and that condemns rather than loves.  Can anything good come out of church?

This weekend, we celebrate the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  I am reminded of Dr. King when I hear Jesus say to Nathaniel “Here is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”  Jesus was speaking about Nathaniel’s character.  Dr. King said “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”  Dr. King gave his life to overcome racism in this country and to tear down the barriers that divide us.  Dr. King’s work was to make this country a place that welcomes all people into all aspects of life regardless of their color, whether drinking fountains, restrooms and restaurants, or places of employment and government office.  Whether based on the Declaration of Independence and the statement that all are created equal, or based on the book of Genesis where all are made in the image of God, Dr. King called us to live like we believe those statements to be true.

          Can anything good come out of church?  Both Jesus and Dr. King call us to treat people exactly the way our Baptismal Covenant calls us to treat people.  If we work for justice and peace, and respect the dignity of every human being, no exceptions, and seek and serve Christ in all people, no exceptions, then people of all races, economic backgrounds, educational levels, nationalities, and sexual orientations will know that they are welcome here.  And to all who wonder, the answer to the question “Can anything good come out of church?” will be a resounding “Yes!”

                                                                             Amen.

Baptism and Baby Food

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 7, 2018

1 Epiphany B

          Last Wednesday morning, the office staff packed up the baby food that you brought to church on Christmas Eve and we got the food ready to be delivered to the Battered Women’s Shelter of Summit and Medina Counties.  Hundreds of containers of baby food had been offered at the creche at our Christmas Eve services as gifts for the baby Jesus and hungry babies in our community.  The Battered Women’s Shelter provides emergency shelter to women and their children who are escaping an abusive situation, often leaving behind all of their belongings.  The shelter provides clothing, food, and all the essentials to the clients who live there.  The baby food will provide nourishment to their youngest clients, who may not have to sleep in a manger, but are having to make home in a strange place.

What, you might ask, does our offering of baby food have to do with the baptism of Jesus, which we celebrate this morning?  Given that yesterday was Epiphany, the date on which the Church celebrates the visit of the Magi to the child Jesus, and today Jesus is a grown man being baptized in the Jordan River by his cousin John, time is certainly flying by.  And I think my children grew up quickly!  Mark's gospel, from which we hear this morning, tells us so little about Jesus' baptism that we have to hear the same story about John the Baptist that we heard during Advent in order to get a gospel reading of a respectable length.  Mark makes three succinct points about Jesus' baptism.  First, Jesus went into the wilderness and was baptized by John the Baptist.  Secondly, the heavens were torn apart and the Spirit descended like a dove. And lastly, a voice came from heaven and said "You are my Son, the beloved. With you I am well pleased."

          All of the gospels give us some account of Jesus’ baptism, and we celebrate Jesus’ baptism every year on the first Sunday after Epiphany.  Mark’s version may be the shortest, but his version is packed with meaning.  First, Jesus went into the wilderness to be baptized.  Immediately after his baptism, Jesus was driven into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan, and then he entered the many wildernesses in which people found themselves in order to bring healing and wholeness.  Lastly, Jesus walked into the wilderness of crucifixion.  Jesus’ baptism in the wilderness was not protection from the wilderness.  Instead, Jesus’ baptism called him to engage the wilderness. 

Secondly, in Jesus' baptism, the heavens were torn open and a dove descended as a bit of the kingdom of heaven was made known on earth.  In the Hebrew scriptures and tradition, the dove represents a sign from God, or the Spirit of God.  For example, in the story of the great flood, once the ark came to a stop on the mountain, Noah sent out a dove to see if there was any dry land.  The first time, the dove came back with an empty beak.  The second time, the dove brought back an olive branch, a sign that life was returning to the devastated land.  The third time, the dove did not return, so Noah knew that the people and animals could enter dry land.  The dove was understood as a sign from God, to let Noah know when he could safely leave the ark.  In Jesus’ baptism, the heavens were split open and this symbol of God’s presence flew through the opening.  The Kingdom of God had broken through to earth.  The first words of Jesus' ministry will be "The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has come near.  Repent and believe in the good news."  The Kingdom of God may have come near in Jesus’ baptism, but Jesus’ work is to make that Kingdom even more present on earth. 

Lastly, Jesus hears the voice of God say "You are my Son, the beloved.  With you I am well pleased."  Mark doesn't tell us, and I don't believe Jesus knows, exactly what that means.  But Jesus trusts that God is present with him and Jesus moves throughout his ministry living into his identity as the beloved Son of God.  His work ushering in the Kingdom of God is to assure others of their identity as God’s beloved children, whether a woman on the margins of society due to illness, or a man possessed by many demons, or the children Jesus took into his arms.   

So, what might Jesus’ baptism have to do with gifts of baby food?  Jesus' baptism propelled him into the world to not just to proclaim the Kingdom of God, but to make that Kingdom real and present, and not just to be the beloved Son of God, but to tell others that they, too, are beloved of God.  Baptism, whether Jesus' baptism and or own our baptism, is not just about our own personal relationship with God.  Baptism certainly connects us to God eternally and marks us as Christ’s own forever, but baptism also sends us out from this church into the world to make the Kingdom real and present in concrete ways to all of humankind.  Baptism sends us into the wilderness where people do not always live in safety, have warm homes, enough food to eat, or the resources to care for their children.  Baptism sends us out to show people with our lives that the Kingdom of God is present on earth.  Baptism sends us out to tell people that they are beloved of God, no exceptions.

This is where the baby food comes in, along with the meals we serve at Open M, the houses we build with Habitat for Humanity, the Christmas presents we provide through Giving Tree, the scarves, caps, mittens, blankets and sleeping mats we make to keep children warm, the food we provide for the Hudson Food Pantry, the hospitality we offer at Welcome Table, and the many other ways we work to make the Kingdom of God more present on earth.  Where else in Hudson and Summit County do people need to be shown that they are beloved children of God?  The more we use our lives to show people that they are God’s beloved children, the more our community and the world will resemble like the Kingdom of God.  Baptism calls us to enter the wilderness, whatever that wilderness may be, to make the Kingdom of God known with our words and actions, and to show people that they are God’s beloved children.  Just like Jesus. 

                                                                             Amen.

Story

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Episcopal Church

December 31, 2017 (8am only)

                                                     Christmas 1

How appropriate that today, as we stand at the edge of one year and on the cusp of another, our gospel lesson begins with those magical words "In the Beginning...."  I think there is something inside each of us that longs to know about our beginnings.  Our sons, who are now quite grown, still like to hear stories about their beginnings.  And when we run out of stories about their beginnings, they want to hear stories about when Don and I were little, or when our parents were children.  Our kids have always want to know where they come from, and they want it in the form of a story.  Even as small children, they knew that the story of their beginnings goes back way beyond the moment of their individual births, and that understanding their beginnings is an important part of figuring out who they are.     

So, today, we hear the story of our beginnings as Christians.  John begins his gospel "In the beginning" echoing those words that begin the book of Genesis.  "In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, and the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the the face of the waters, there was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God."  The Greek word "logos" is translated as "Word" in every translation of the New Testament that I know of, but it can be translated many other ways such as "speech," "reason" or "plan," or even "rational thought" but the most interesting translation, I think, is "story."  In the beginning was the Story, not just any old story, but our story, the story of our relationship with God.   

The gospel lesson we heard this morning is John's version of the Christmas story.  John's version of the story of our beginnings as Christians has no manger, no swaddling clothes or barn animals, and no baby Jesus.  This gospel lesson would make a terrible Christmas pageant!  But this gospel lesson is very clear about who Jesus is.  Jesus is the Word, the story, that has dwelt with God since the very beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth.  Jesus is God made flesh so that we can know God, not as an abstract concept, or a deity that we can know the fullness of the story of God's relationship with humanity, from the very beginning right up through our own relationship with him in the present.

What does this story of our beginnings tell us about ourselves?  First, in Jesus we meet God as God wants us to see our Creator.  We meet the God who wants to communicate with us, be in conversation with us, walk with us and experience our humanity.  God could have chosen to be revealed as light, or diamonds, or an incredible sunset or a powerful earthquake, but instead God chose to be revealed to us as one of us.  It is difficult at best, perhaps impossible, to have a relationship with a sunset or a diamond.  God's revelation as a person shows us how deeply God wants to be in relationship with us.  Jesus is God's offering of God's entire self that we might have this relationship.  This story tells us that we are meant to be in relationship with God, and that we are, in fact, God's beloved children.

The second thing we learn from this story of our beginnings is that God, revealed in Jesus, is not going to be obvious to everyone.   John says "He was in the world, but the world did not know him."  There are many people right here in Hudson who are good, gracious people, but do not know Jesus, and who have no interest in knowing him.  The same God who wants a relationship with us so much that the Word became flesh in Jesus, gives us the freedom to choose whether we want to respond and reciprocate that relationship.  It is a gracious God who continually offers the gift of Jesus, but allows us the freedom to say "no." 

Does this mean we should stop introducing people to Jesus?  Absolutely not.  We each have the responsibility and the privilege of introducing Jesus to whomever God sends into our lives- family, friends, co-workers.  But the gospel tells us that we should not expect that our introductions will always be met with joy and wonder.  John the Baptist, we are told, came to testify to the light, even though not everyone would believe.  We, too, are called to testify to the light, even though not everyone will believe. 

New Year’s Eve is a prime opportunity to reflect on who we are and what we are called to do.  Who are we?  We are beloved children of God with whom God is dying, literally, to have a relationship.  What are we called to do?  We are called to bear witness to the light of Jesus at all times and in all places, so that no one will walk in darkness because they haven't seen the light.  May we be faithful bearers of the Story.

Amen.

Emmanuel

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 24, 2017

Christmas Eve

          A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, such as New Jersey in the 1960’s, one of the highlights of our year was the viewing of “The Wizard of Oz.”  Unlike our current media situation where we can watch whatever we want, whenever we want, many of us remember a time when movies like “The Wizard of Oz,” “The Sound of Music,” and “Cinderella” were shown on television once a year.  If we missed that viewing, we had to wait another whole year before we would have the opportunity again.  So the anticipation leading up to the special night was huge.  Plans were made around the viewing and time stopped to allow us to enter another world for a couple of hours.  This was a world with ruby red slippers and monkeys who could fly, good witches and bad witches, and friends like a lion with no courage, a tin man with no heart, and a scarecrow with no brain.  Every year we would shriek with fear at the flying monkeys, and laugh with delight when the wicked witch said “I’m melting….” as if we had never seen the movie before.  We were transported for a time out of our own mundane world into another world where the unexpected was normal.

          Christmas Eve feels very similar.   The anticipation and build up to Christmas is full of plans of one sort or another that often begin as soon as the Thanksgiving turkey cools, or sooner.  We look forward to escaping our ordinary world for a brief time, to dwell in a world where an angel speaks to shepherds, the glory of the Lord is visible, and the night skies are lit up with the song of the heavenly hosts.  For an hour here today/tonight, we are transported to a magical place where a baby is born who will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Our ordinary lives will be waiting for us after Christmas, but for this moment, time stands still in the wonder of the Christmas story (the beauty of the music, and the mystery of the candles).

          On Christmas Eve, however, as much as we may feel transported to a magical place where extraordinary things happen, the truth is that on Christmas Eve, God is transported into the midst of our every day ordinary lives.  Mary and Joseph were going about an ordinary, if highly inconvenient task, and registering for the census.  The two were engaged, and Mary was expecting a baby, who would hopefully wait to arrive until the two returned home. But, as often happens, the baby chose a less than convenient time to be born.  Getting a room in Bethlehem when so many people were traveling for the census would be about like getting a last minute room in Minneapolis for the Super Bowl.  So, Jesus was born in an inconvenient place at an inconvenient time, to two worn out and probably stressed out parents who were hoping for some sleep when they placed Jesus in the manger.

          What looked to be a fairly ordinary birth was transformed by the announcement of the angel, which began with the words “Do not be afraid,” and continued by telling the shepherds of “a savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”  Then the whole heavens burst into song and the shepherds left their flocks and went with haste to Bethlehem to tell the new family and everyone else about the message of the angel.  And Mary treasured their words and pondered them in her heart.

          Rather than transport us for a moment to a magical place that exists only in our imaginations, Christmas Eve is our yearly reminder that in the baby Jesus, God enters our lives.  God chooses to interrupt our everyday ordinary lives not to take us somewhere else, but to live among us, making our ordinary lives holy.  Is God’s interruption always convenient?  Ask Mary and Joseph.  Does God’s interruption sometimes surprise and startle us?  Ask the shepherds.  Does God’s interruption sometimes cause us to break into songs of praise?  Ask the angels.   The presence of God in our lives does not always make life easy or transport us out of the difficult times.  But when God chose to become human in the person of Jesus, God chose to make the ordinary holy.

          If all the Christmas story did was to transport us out of our own world for a couple of hours, or a few days, then set us back down again, we would have gained a respite from the ordinary, perhaps, but then the impact of Christmas would be over.  Instead, the Christmas story reminds us that God became human as the infant Jesus in order to enter the story of each of us, and take the joys, sorrows, gifts and challenges of our lives and make them holy-not necessarily good or painless or easy, but holy.  When the angel says to the shepherds “Do not be afraid,” the angel is not issuing platitudes.  We can trust the angel and live life unafraid because, in Jesus, God entered our lives in a unique way and promises to be Emmanuel, God with us always. 

                                                                                Amen.

Prepare What?

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 17, 2017 (8am only)

                                                     3 Advent B

The Christmas I was five years old, all of our relatives on both my mother’s and my father’s side came to our house for Christmas.  We are not a large family, as my mother was an only child and my father had just one brother, but all together there were 17 or 18 of us, spanning four generations.  A great deal of preparation was required, mostly on my mother’s part.  There were many days worth of meals to prepare, the house to decorate, gifts to purchase, and family dynamics to navigate, to say nothing of finding places for everyone to sleep. One of the most memorable pieces of preparation was the purchase of our first dishwasher, an appliance that Don and I later inherited and lasted until our first born wanted to see if he could get the blue crayons clean.  Much time and effort went into preparing for what we called the “Big Christmas” and in the end, the holiday went off without a hitch.  Meals were enjoyed, gifts given and received, and family dynamics were successfully negotiated thanks in large part to good preparation.

For years I have preached, taught, and written about Advent as such a period of preparation.  Advent is the gift of time when we prepare not so much our homes, but our hearts, for the coming of the Christ Child.  I have long suggested that Advent is a time to be as intentional about our spiritual preparation for Jesus’ birth as we are about our decorating, shopping, and cooking.  When we cook, shop, decorate, and plan well for our Christmas celebrations, they typically go well.    When we prepare our hearts well for Christmas with worship, prayer, scripture reading and study, we are more able to welcome the Christ child in our midst.

Today’s readings catch me by surprise.  They tell me that I am only partially correct in my understanding of Advent as a time to prepare ourselves for the birth of Christ.  Both the prophet Isaiah and the man sent from God whose name was John tell us that there is more to Advent than getting ourselves ready for Jesus.

Isaiah has been sent by God to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners.  Isaiah is writing to a people in distress.  The Hebrew people have been released from captivity in Babylon to a different kind of captivity back at home in the Promised Land...a captivity in which they cannot earn a living, their temple is in ruins, they have lost everything of value and there appears to be no hope for a better future.  But Isaiah is not bringing good news just so the people feel better about their dismal situation.  Isaiah is bringing them comfort so that they can build up the ancient ruins, raise up the former devastations, and repair the ruined cities.  Isaiah is bringing the people hope so that they can then get about the business of restoration.  And when that happens, their descendants will be known among the nations, and their offspring among all people.  All who see them shall acknowledge that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed.  In other words, Isaiah preaches comfort, so that the people can rise up and rebuild that which was lost, and God’s glory will be seen through out the world.

In the gospel reading, we are told that John came to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.  John is the one sent to point the way toward Jesus.  Unlike last week’s gospel lesson from Mark, where the focus was on John as the one who baptized for the repentance of sins, in this gospel, baptism is peripheral to John’s real mission.  When the priests and Levites ask John who he is, John only answers in the negative: he is not the Messiah, not Elijah, not the prophet.  John’s whole identity was to be the one who pointed the people to someone else, who directed the people to the light of the world, the Word made flesh.  

The piece of the Advent message that I can easily miss is that Advent is a time to be intentional about preparing not just ourselves, but the world around us for the coming of the Christ Child.  Neither Isaiah nor John call us this morning to prepare the world by threatening hell-fire and damnation if people do not believe.  That is certainly not the missing piece of the Advent message.  Isaiah calls us to bind up the broken-hearted, comfort those who mourn, to provide a mantle of praise for a faint spirit, so that God’s glory may be displayed.  Isaiah calls us to work to rebuild the ruins and repair the devastation we see around us, so that the world around us will see the work of God.  Likewise, John calls to use Advent to testify to the Light.  Testify is not a typical Episcopalian word, but what John means is that Advent is a time to use our lives so that others may see the light of Christ in the world around them.  In Advent, and all year actually, our work is to point to the Light in our midst, bringing hope to the world around us. The apostle Paul calls us to rejoice always, pray constantly, and give thanks in all circumstances so that our lives point to the Word made flesh among us.  Certainly a people that can rejoice always and give thanks in all circumstances point to the glory of God.

Perhaps, in the end, Advent calls us to live as a people whose lives point toward the light of Christ.  If we heed the call of Isaiah to bring good news to the oppressed, the command of Paul to rejoice always and give thanks in all circumstances, and the witness of John to testify to the light, I believe that both our hearts and our world will be better prepared for the arrival of the Christ Child in our midst. 

Amen.

Obstacles

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 10, 2017

                                                      Advent 2B

From the time I was a little girl, the mountains of Western North Carolina have been one of my favorite places on earth.  My grandparents had a summer home in the mountains when I was young, and moved there permanently once they retired.  Close to three decades worth of Thanksgivings were spent there, along with visits in spring and summer, and Don’s first teaching position was at a university nearby.  Regardless of the season, the mountains are breathtakingly beautiful.  In the mid-winter, the mountains are laced with snow, which looks pure and clean at least from the distance.  In the spring, when the leaves return, the mountains are bursting with new life.  In the summer, when the rest of the world is hot and humid, the mountains are cool and the nights are so quiet you can almost reach out and touch the stars above you or hear the train pass through the valley below.  And in the fall, the leaves turn brilliant red and it looks as if the mountains are on fire with color. The season does not matter.  The mountains always bear witness to the glory of God.

Because I am so in love with these mountains, I find Isaiah’s words this morning quite baffling.  Why would God want every high mountain to be made low and every valley filled up?  Does God really want all creation to be flat like Kansas?  Why would God have made the mountains in the first place if they were going to need to be leveled?  And why do we hear these words on the second Sunday of Advent?        

One inevitable sight when we drove through the mountains was the car pulled off to the side with a flat tire, a steaming engine, no gas, or worse.  I am reminded that the trip through the mountains is not always easy and that the mountains I love so much are obstacles for other people with less reliable means of transportation.  Certainly, this was true in the time of Isaiah.  There were no SUV’s or even under slightly underpowered minivans to carry people through the mountains.  All a person had was his or her own two feet and maybe an animal or two to take themselves and all their belongings through the mountains.  Mountains and valleys were huge obstacles that made both travel difficult and dangerous, as well as taking far longer than to travel the same distance on flat land. In the mountains, especially on foot, it is often impossible to see where you are going until you get there. The dream that someday the glory of God will be revealed, and all people will see God’s glory together was at best a only a dream and at worst a cruel joke unless the obstacles were removed and the land was leveled.  And who could do that but God? 

Every year on the second Sunday of Advent as we move toward our glorious celebration of the birth of Jesus, we hit an obstacle of a different sort as we come upon John the Baptist.  We are waiting for the glory of God to be revealed on Christmas Eve, and we hear the words of Isaiah: “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”  In Mark’s gospel, from which we hear this morning, the quote does not continue and tell us that the valleys shall be filled and the mountains made low as happens in Luke’s gospel.  But we do hear “Prepare the way.  Make the paths straight.”  And, in order for the paths to be made straight, the valleys must be filled and the mountains made low.

So, John the Baptist goes out into the wilderness to prepare the way and make the paths straight.  John does two things out in the wilderness.  First, John proclaims a baptism for the repentance of sins.  People from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem came out into the wilderness to be baptized by this oddly dressed, locust eating wild man.  Secondly, John makes a promise to the people.  “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.”  How does a baptism for the repentance of sins and a promise that someone greater is coming prepare the way and make the paths straight?

When John calls us to repent, John is causing us to turn from the obstacles that divide us from each other and God.  In 2017, those obstacles may not be literal mountains and valleys and they may not be obstacles of our own making, although we may be complicit in allowing the obstacles to exist.  What are the obstacles that need to be overcome so that all flesh might see the salvation of God?  We know from recent months that there are all kinds of mountains that divide us, whether mountains of racism, or sexism, or elitism, or homophobia or any of the many other attempts to divide us from each other.  Then there are our own valleys of disappointment, hurt and frustration, or the valley of despair in which people live when they know no good news.  There is the mountain over which people struggle simply to feed their children and the valley of poverty out of which it is almost impossible to climb.  John the Baptist calls us to identify these obstacles and to work to eliminate them. 

John the Baptist does not say this work will be easy nor does he say there will be results overnight.  But he does tell us that we cannot do this work of removing obstacles unless we name the obstacles and commit to tear them down, which is repentance.  The Good News is that we do not have to do this work alone.  John told those who gathered at the Jordan River that there is one who coming after him will baptize with the Holy Spirit.  The baby we await during Advent is that one, and has sent the Holy Spirit to live within and among us so that we never work alone.  In fact, the work of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection was tearing down the obstacles that divide people from each other and God so that all flesh can see the glory of God.  John the Baptist calls us to nothing other than Jesus’ work so that the glory of God can be seen and known, both when Jesus comes wrapped in bands of cloth and placed in a manger, and always.  

                                                                                         Amen.