Welcome to Bedtime Stories, moments in scripture that reveal a God whose is with us always, and whose work sometimes takes place when it’s time for the lamps to be extinguished. Bedtime.

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Samuel. Scripture tells us the story of his very beginnings, of his mother, Hannah, who longed for a baby and cried bitterly to God about the delay. But when we meet him, Samuel doesn’t live with his mother anymore. After Samuel was born, Hannah decided to dedicate him to God, and when he was 3 or 4 years old, he went to serve at the temple in Shiloh, under the mentorship of Eli, an elderly priest, who was not very good at his job…

Image: David Wilkie, Samuel in the Temple (1839), Public Domain, courtesy of Wikiart.org.

[We interrupt this meditation for a message about Pharisees. Despite what most of us have been taught for most of our lives, despite some harsh words about them in the gospels themselves, Pharisees are not the bad guys in the Jesus story. There’s decent evidence right in the gospels that Jesus embraced most of what Pharisees stood for, including: belief in one God; belief in the divine inspiration of scripture, and in the resurrection of the dead, and in the sacredness of everyday life, not just what goes on in the Temple. Like Jesus, Pharisees believed that holy things ought to be in the hands of regular people rather than reserved for those in the Temple priesthood. Like Jesus, Pharisees believed that God so loved the world that God gave us everything we needed in order to find eternal life. And all those arguments Jesus seems to have with Pharisees? That was typical of the debates Pharisees carried on with one another. They believed that through debate, they could arrive at the truth. Here ends the message about Pharisees, who were not the bad guys. Case in point: here, they are trying to save Jesus’ life.]

Image: Everett, Trey. Under Her Wings, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57825 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: www.treyeverettcreates.com.

We find the word “devil” in the New Revised Standard Version of New Testament 35 times; we find the word “satan” 33 times. The words carry slightly different meanings. “Satan” is a Hebrew word meaning, “tempter.” It’s something like the phrase “devil’s advocate,” someone who’s trying to poke at you and prod you and find your weaknesses.

“Devil,” on the other hand, means, literally, someone who throws stuff into a situation, throws stuff at you—stuff, undefined. Think, agent of chaos.

And that is what he does here, to Jesus, presumably still filled with the Holy Spirit, but no doubt, exhausted and frayed by weeks without food and minimal water…

Image: Rivière, Briton, 1840-1920. Temptation in the Wilderness, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56821 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Briton_Rivi%C3%A8re_-_The_Temptation_in_the_Wilderness.jpg.

Sometimes our lives of faith seem to send us mixed signals.

Take Ash Wednesday, for example. A few minutes ago Cathie read for us from the gospel of Matthew, the same passage that is appointed for Ash Wednesday every year. Its strong emphasis is, don’t flaunt your faith. Don’t stand in front of everybody virtue-signaling—letting them know how good and pious you are, because, if you do—well, your reward is that people noticed how good and pious you are, and that feeling, as we know, is fleeting. So, keep your faith quiet, Jesus says. Avoid ostentatious displays.

But in a minute I’m going to invite you all to come forward so that I can smudge some ashes in a cross on your head, a sign that could possibly have other people nodding to you in affirmation of your shared Ash-Wednesday values when you run to Price Chopper on your way home. Or, conversely, that sign could also prompt some other kind-hearted person to pull you aside in the Price Chopper to say, “You have some… schmutz on your head, here, have a Kleenex.” This day, this ashy tradition, is saying, Wear your faith on your forehead, please.

Mixed signals…

…Today’s passage begins with normalcy—Jesus takes three of his followers on a hike up a mountain to pray. Jesus prays, and talks about prayer, a lot in the gospel of Luke—he’s always trying to get away from the crowds to replenish himself, to re-connect with the Spirit. As I heard once, from a wise woman, “You can’t pour from an empty bucket.” Today, Jesus takes Peter (also known as Simon), and the brothers John and James. These three seem to form an inner circle: the people Jesus is closest to.

Very quickly, it’s clear that things are not normal at all.

Image: Hartman, Craig W.. Cathedral of Christ the Light, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54202 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sicarr/3251258111/.

This passage almost feels like a combination of Jesus’ greatest hits combined with the things he’s said that no one wants to hear. Many statements we find here are well-known, and are among the most-quoted words of Jesus. And everything here, from what sounds the easiest to what we could consider the most challenging, falls under the heading of “love.”

Image: Detail, Supuni, Amos. Reconciliation, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57340 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Reconciliation_Amos_Supuni_Woerden.jpg.

This gospel lets us know, from the beginning, that Jesus’ place is with the poor—from Mary’s song to Jesus’ reading from Isaiah to this moment when Jesus and the disciples stand, not away from the people, not above the people, but with them, on a level place. The people have come to be near him because they are all struggling—they want to be healed, they want Jesus to cast out the demons that torture them. They are trying to touch Jesus, to receive that power that emanates from him. And Jesus’ actions show us; this is what he chooses, throughout this gospel, the definition of the incarnation: To be on a level place with the people, to be one of them. Near enough to touch. Right there with those who are struggling.

Jesus addresses his disciples and the crowds with words that are familiar, yet different. Jesus speaks both “blessings” and “woes.” What does this mean? Is Jesus dividing the people up? Is this a sheep-and-goats situation? Or is there something else going on? [Spoiler alert: THERE IS SOMETHING ELSE GOING ON.]

Image: JESUS MAFA. The Sermon on the Mount, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48284 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).

… Whether we are talking about God almighty in the smoky temple, or the man Jesus who seems very clearly to have just bent nature to his will, the Lord has called to each of these children of God. Isaiah, come, be my prophet. Simon, come, follow me.

And each man’s gut reaction is No.

No. I am not worthy.

No. I am sinful, with unclean lips.

No. I am afraid.

No. How could I possibly do that?

Image: Anonymous. Christ Calling the First Disciples, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56123 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:CandelariaChurchjf1988_08.JPG.

What happens when your gift is not acknowledged or accepted—or, worse, you are told, you don’t have any gifts at all?

Spoiler alert. Mild spoilers. The newest Disney film Encanto delves into the life and history of a Colombian family whose members all have magical gifts given to them on their fifth birthdays. Luisa is super strong, the family’s rock. Julieta can heal with the food she lovingly prepares. Camilo is a born entertainer, who can transform into the likeness of anyone at will. And Bruno? Well, we won’t talk about Bruno—not yet, anyway.

But the beating heart of the film is Mirabel. She is the outlier—the only one for whom the magic didn’t happen when that birthday arrived. Fifteen when we meet her, Mirabel has spent her life trying to bravely say that, it’s fine that she doesn’t have a gift—she’s fine, really. Until one day when the foundation beneath the family begins to crack, literally—the magical casita where they all live starts to break down—and Mirabel discovers that all is not well with la familia. What is happening? And can it be fixed?

Image: Pittman, Lauren Wright. Enough, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56555 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: http://www.lewpstudio.com - copyright by Lauren Wright Pittman.

… Jesus is among us, and God’s joy is at party-throwing level. God’s joy is at, ‘Let’s give them the best wine any of them has ever tasted’ level. The Sign of water-into-wine shines out with the love of God in this story. The Sign of water-into-wine is a Sign of God’s ineffable joy, and, potentially, ours, too…

Image: “Wedding at Cana” by Carl Bloch, 1870, courtesy of wikiart.org. Public Domain.

First, there was the visit of Mary and Elizabeth… two extraordinary women who answered the call of God to mother two extraordinary men.

In that same moment, we witnessed the first encounter of John and Jesus, in utero though they both were. John was leaping and dancing in his mother’s womb, to have his Lord so near.

Today, the men meet face to face, though whether it’s for the first time, we can’t say. If Mary and Elizabeth were kin, doesn’t it make sense they’d have run into one another at the odd Passover dinner, or a family wedding…?

Image: The Baptism of Christ by Jerzy Nowosielski, 21st century wall-art courtesy of wikiart.org, Fair Use.

… We are spending time with some Zoroastrian priests this morning, the Magi. They were natives of Persia (present-day Iran), whose religious practices involved aligning themselves with their god Asha (whose name means “truth”) by way of good thoughts, good words, and good deeds. Other core tenets of their faith included the belief in a messiah; practicing generosity/ charity, in order to bring happiness to the world; the spiritual equality of men and women; and being good for the of sake goodness, and not in hopes of a reward.

And before we go any further, we traditionally have assumed there were three of them, because they brought three gifts. But the text doesn’t specify how many magi, beyond using the plural to refer to them (so, there were more than one). In addition, the text doesn’t specify how many are men and how many are women. It’s likely there were both in the party…

Image: The Wise Men’s Dream, Rev. Lauren Pittman, courtesy of A Sanctified Art. Used with permission.

Some things are so familiar, they just feel like home. Walking into our regular coffee place. The way a good friend says our name, maybe a name only they use for us. The first taste of something made from a family recipe that never changes, only gets better. Coffee in hand, we go out into our day, knowing that we have a cup full of home to take with us. The voice of the friend, telling us that, for the duration of this walk, or this lunch, or this phone call, we are safe. We will be heard, maybe even cared for. We are home. The looks around the table when everyone’s taken their first bite, and we all agree: this is home.

Image: Ordinary Glory by the Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman, courtesy of A Sanctified Art. Used with permission.

We have waited and waited for this night—one of the most special and beautiful nights of the year. This is the night when we celebrate the birthday of Jesus, and it’s a celebration we have been planning for a long time.

How do you like to celebrate your birthday?

Image: Ordinary Glory by Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman, courtesy of A Sanctified Art, used with permission.

It’s a strange thing, let me tell you, to learn that you are pregnant from your husband carrying a message from an angel. It is a stranger thing still to learn this news when you are… my age. And in my situation. I think our ancestor Sarah put it well: “At my age, shall I know pleasure?” (I’m sure she was speaking of the pleasure of being a mother. I’m sure that’s what she meant.)

My reaction was, How can this be, seeing as I’m as old as the hills and twice as rocky? But sure enough, the signs I’d looked for all those years ago began to become apparent. The angel had spoken the truth. God had looked upon us with compassion and given us… well, you know all about John…

Image: “Redemption Song,” Rev. T. Denise Anderson, A Sanctified Art, used with permission.

… the first words out of John’s mouth in this gospel of Luke are harsh. “You brood of vipers!” On the one hand, John is settled firmly in the tradition of the great prophets of the Bible: prophets are truth-tellers, and sometimes the truth is ugly. Vipers are known for their exceptionally long, hinged fangs, very effective at injecting venom, and venom can kill you if left untreated. All kinds of people come out to see John, everyone from subsistence farmers and fisherfolk to people in long fancy robes, people with some kind of rank and power. Are they all vipers, or just some? John doesn’t discriminate, his message is for all. The path they are on is dangerous; they will cause grievous harm if they continue…

Image: "Gather Us In," by Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity, A Sanctified Art, used with permission.

It’s just a family story. A regular normal family story that begins with an angel of the Lord appearing to the husband while he’s in the holy of holies of the Temple in Jerusalem. A story that, along the way, has that same husband being struck silent for 9 months because he dares to ask the angel exactly how God is going to perform the particular miracle (the miracle being that he and his wife, at their advanced age, will have a child). (The angel is not having it. “I am Gabriel,” he thunders. “Now you shush.”) And meanwhile, a postmenopausal woman who long her childless state was permanent, is given a very big surprise…

Image: “Berakah” [“Blessing”] by Hannah Garrity, A Sanctified Art, Used with Permission.

Today marks the beginning of the four weeks of the season of Advent. And while this time of waiting and preparing is one of the ways we make ready for Christmas, it’s also a time during which we remind ourselves of these words in scripture, where Jesus promises to return, in power, to make everything new again.

Imagine, God making everything new. If you’re like me, you’d be satisfied with making everything like it was before—before the pandemic stole so much life and joy from the world. But life before the pandemic wasn’t hunky dory for everyone…

Image: “Awake to Wonder” by the Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity, copyright A Sanctified Art, used with permission.

I think it’s safe to say that the idea of Jesus of Nazareth being hailed as King of the Universe was on no one’s radar when he had the dust of Galilee on his feet, and reached out his hands to bless and heal, to feed the hungry, and to wash the feet of his puzzled disciples. In three of the four gospels Jesus talks continually of the kingdom of God, the kingdom of heaven. He offers a sharp contrast with earthly kings: he describes them as ruinous murderers. When asked point blank, “Are you king of the Jews? Jesus answers, “You say so.” The only places the gospels clearly identify him as king are when the Magi are following the star to find him as a small child, and when he is breathing his last on the cross.

Honthorst, Gerrit van, 1590-1656. King David Playing the Harp, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57763 [retrieved September 29, 2021]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gerard_van_Honthorst_-_King_David_Playing_the_Harp_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.

In her book Searching for Sunday, Rachel Held Evans offers a distinction between healing and curing. What we often seek is a cure—removal of symptoms, to be cancer-free, for example. What God offers us—even in Bartimeus’ story—is healing, and that is a more complicated matter. Evans writes,

… there is a difference between curing and healing, and I believe the church is called to the slow and difficult work of healing…[Healing] takes time. It is relational. It is inefficient, like a meandering river. Rarely does healing follow a straight or well-lit path. Rarely does it conform to our expectations or resolve in a timely manner…

Healing of the Blind Man at Jericho, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56661 [retrieved September 29, 2021]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:MCC-41326_Genezing_van_de_blinde_te_Jericho_(1).tif.