Presbyterian curmudgeon Frederick Buechner famously said that “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” In addition to their specific skillsets, I think Jesus saw in these men a deep hunger for something beyond themselves. It is a powerful thing to be seen, truly seen and known for who you are. If I were to guess why they left their nets and never looked back? That’s it. The experience of being seen, being known, being understood. That’s where everyone’s capacity for gladness begins.

Image: Duccio, di Buoninsegna, d. 1319. Christ Calling the Apostles Peter and Andrew, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl…

One day John was in the middle of a long, rambling treatise on trees, and whether they were sound or not, and when was the right time to cut them down and burn them in the fire. As he spoke, a man approached, walking right toward him, very purposeful. And John stopped abruptly, and went kind of pale. After a breath he held out one emaciated arm, and pointed at the man, and declared:

“Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” 

Image: John and disciples acknowledge Jesus as the Lamb of God, Chartres Cathedral, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56616 

And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” ~ Matthew 3:13-17

Bazile, Castera. Baptism of Jesus, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.

You know how it goes—Christmas is over, and now the stores are full of red hearts. The rest of the world has moved on to Valentine’s Day.

But not us. Not here. Here, we’re sticking with a church tradition going back nearly fifteen hundred years, which tells us it is still Christmas—the 12th day of Christmas, to be exact. But today’s celebration is no longer focused on shepherds and angels. Today, in our ongoing telling of the story, a heavenly body takes center stage, as well as a truly terrible king. The old king is frightened, and you know how it goes: when the powerful are frightened, their fear spreads like a contagion, and they act to preserve their power at all costs. But the old king is an ancillary character for now: this part of the story focuses on travelers: foreigners from afar whose study of the stars has convinced them: there is a new king.

Image: Visit of the Magi, MAFA Jesus, Cameroon, courtesy of Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. ~ Luke 2:8-11

Image: Angels Singing and Playing Musical Instruments, by Tilman Riemenschneider workshop, c. 1505, Bode Museum. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:  to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  ~ Luke 2:8-11

Image: Pynacker, Adam, ca. 1620-1673. Annuncation to the Shepherds, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54163 [retrieved December 24, 2019]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/17884832@N00/2642469436/.

“Look: the young woman shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel, (which means, God Is With Us).”

This is the truth of God throughout scripture, from the stories of creation to the visions of Revelation: God is with us.

Image: Joseph’s Dream, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56270 [retrieved December 21, 2019]. Original source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/paullew/23745541071.

All around us, people are preparing for the public holiday known as “Christmas.” They’re preparing for parties at home and in the office, they’re hanging lights on their houses, they’re shopping for presents and food. In here, we’re preparing, too, but getting ready for Christmas as a Jesus-follower means something more than twinkling lights or our retrieving our favorite ornaments from the attic. In here, when we’re de-cluttering, we’re doing soul work. Not that physical de-cluttering can’t be good—it certainly can open up mental space as well as physical. But each of us needs to search our souls, in order to understand exactly what it is that we need to de-clutter, in here. If, in this chaotic season, we can find the space for some quiet reflection, we can discover what we need to prepare for this powerful celebration, the feast of the Incarnation—the moment when God-made-flesh appeared in the world. What does your heart need?

We Presbyterians tend to keep the coming of the Son of Man at somewhat of a remove. We focus on it, mostly at this time of year… in the kinds of scripture passages we’ve been hearing over the last three weeks, and especially, on the first Sunday in Advent. Advent is the season of preparation for our celebration of Jesus’ birth: that is true. But before we look back in remembrance, we look ahead, in anticipation. Today Jesus is talking about the end of all things, and it’s time for us to pay attention; you might say, to keep awake.

Image: P. Raube, 2014.

I’ve been using a word over and over that is a kind of Presbyterian/ Reformed catchword: “Sovereign.” A traditional understanding of this word is that God is always in control—which would go nicely with a notion of Jesus Christ as king. But the story of Jesus is not of one who chooses to exercise control, but one who yields to events, even yields to death. (See Luke’s account of Jesus weeping and praying in the garden, as his arrest and death come nearer. If he has an option to use the power of God to change the situation, he does not exercise it.) The problem with the traditional idea of God “always in control,” is that it implies God is fine with a mountain of coal refuse burying children, even that God made it happen. Any reasonable reading of scripture assures us, God is not fine with such a tragedy. So, if God exercises sovereignty, it may be that it doesn’t look like we expect it to look.

Photo by Pedro Sandrini from Pexels.

Today, the 33rd Sunday, is the second to last Sunday in Ordinary time, because a preparation season is coming: Advent is just around the corner now, our time to pray and prepare our spirits for the celebration of Christmas. But… you may have noticed this… when Ordinary Time is coming to a close, our scripture passages get… kind of funky. Kind of wobbly, this and that, highs and lows, joys and sorrows, all jumbled together.

Image: “Grapes in a Vineyard” courtesy of Pexels

Like the Thessalonians, we live in a world swirling with problems, with things that may frighten us or distress us—external threats and internal struggles that are real.

But we have something else in common with the Thessalonians. Jesus Christ is still the Lord of all and the Head of the Church And we know that the power of God is at work in our community, because every day we are working together to love God with all our heart and soul, mind and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves….

Welcome, saints of the church! Today we give thanks for and honor our membership in the household of God, a dwelling and community that transcends time and space.

Interesting, isn’t it? On this day named for saints, we have a gospel passage about a sinner.

Image: “Zacchaeus in a Tree,” William Hole, public domain

How could you practice your faith if almost everything about it was suddenly gone?

How could you learn your faith if all the teachers were gone?

How could you read or hear scripture if there were no more copies of the Bible lleft?

How could you go to your house of worship if it no longer existed?

Welcome to the time of the Babylonian Exile…

In preparation for a time of anxiety and chaos, Jesus wants to help people to find the quiet center. He wants them to stay grounded. He wants them to be able to find courage. Prayer will do all these things, and more.

But Jesus describes prayer in a fascinating way. Prayer, he says, is like a widow who takes her case before a judge who doesn't care about God, and who doesn’t care about people. Makes you wonder why this guy is a judge in the first place. But I digress…

Image: Justice as Protector by Stefan Hirsch (1899-1964), courtesy of Art in the Christian Tradition, Vanderbilt University.

Our readings this morning seem to present us with what I think of as the simultaneous “not yet” and “already” character of what Jesus called “the kingdom of God.” It is not yet here. And it is already here.

Photo by Porapak Apichodilok from Pexels.

It’s not that Jesus has it in for rich people. The whole problem is in that last sentence… the problem is when the rich have no compassion for those who are struggling. When they can walk by, almost without noticing a man at their gate who is so poor, his best friends are the local dogs who lick his sores; when they can walk by without seeing a man whose best hope of a meal is the food the rich man throws away after one of his daily lavish dinner parties.

The problem is, when the rich leave the poor waiting at the gate.

It is easy to thank God—so easy—for the people who make our life full and rich and happy and delightful. For the parents or grandparents who are good to us; for the spouses or partners who give us joy; for the children who carry our hopes and dreams to the next generation; for our friends, the people who get us, who stand by us, who show up for us, who worry about us. Of course we thank God for people like this, people who impact our lives for the better. Thank God for them!

But Paul wants us to thank God for those other people, too. The people who are not on our top ten favorite list—or even top 100. In fact, for the people who are on our top ten list of—well, people we don’t want to be with, or don’t like, or don’t get. Antagonists. Enemies, if we have them. Paul wants us to thank God for them. People who hate us, people who want to harm us. Paul wants us to thank God for them.

What does this even mean? What is he thinking?

Image: Otto Greiner (1869-1916), “Betende Hände” (“Praying Hands”)

Every Sunday we gather and we listen for the words of Jesus to tell us… what? What God really thinks? How God really feels about us? What God really wants from us? We want something real from Jesus, a real connection to God. So we listen, and it’s so hard, sometimes, to cut through the layers of tradition, and interpretation, and expectation... not to mention the layers of 2,000 years, of ancient cultural understandings, of language…

What if we could go back? What if we could be standing there, right there, when Jesus turned to the crowd, and lifted his head and spoke?

Image: P. Raube