“Silence is Golden”

Mark 9:2-9

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

February 19, 2012 (Transfiguration Sunday)

I am reminded that “in the olden days,” there used to be nothing but the King James Version of the Bible for most of us to read.  Then with new scholarship, the Revised Standard Version came to be and then the New Revised Standard Version.  Then with an eye toward making the Bible more accessible for everyone reading the English language, we were offered “The  Good News Bible,” “The Message,” the Jerusalem Bible, the New English Bible, the Common English Version, The New Living Translation, The New International Version, Today’s New International Version, The English Standard, The American Standard, and, well, the list goes on.  Many of these Bibles were designed with the specific intent of making the Bible easier to understand.

I’m here to tell you, the Bible is not easy to understand.  This passage on the Transfiguration is a case in point.  It is not easy to understand nor is any interpretation necessarily correct.  We can go back to the original Greek and read it, but it is still not easy to understand.  And I would also like to remind you that when the Bible was originally written, the individual books were not written with an eye toward making them accessible for everyone to read.  When any of the scriptures were written, they were written to be read out loud to a community, to a church family.  That is true of all of the Old Testament and true of most of the New Testament.  The writers of the individual books of the Bible would have never guessed that Johann Gutenberg would invent something called the printing press or that Apple would invent something called the iPad.  We all can read the Bible in any form we want and access it in many different ways.  And that is absolutely tremendous!  What a gift!

But it doesn’t make it any easier to understand.

That’s part of what being a disciple is all about.  Disciple means “student,” and as disciples of Jesus, we are to be his students which requires reading and studying the scriptures, both old and new.  Yes, it is clearly beneficial to read them alone.  But it is in the community of faith, in the church family, that we can discuss what those scriptures mean to us and allow the Holy Spirit to illumine those scriptures for all of us.

Just ask Peter, James and John.  Heck, they were there and they didn’t understand what was going on.  They didn’t have to read about it.  They were living it.  And they still didn’t understand what was going on.  Jesus has taken his students up on this mountain and there, what before they wondering eyes should appear:  two dead guys from the Old Testament (their scriptures) and Jesus lit up like a police spotlight shining through the steamy windows of a car parked just off a lonely country road on a Saturday night.

Now, Peter knew his scriptures.   I’m not saying he understood them.  But he knew Moses and Elijah when he saw them.  And he and his fellow students could see this lit up Jesus talking to the two dead men who were very much alive.

On the one hand, Peter became a blubbering idiot.  “Here, let me build a tent for each of you!”  He must have been busy surveying the land, trying to figure out how to get the materials there on the mountain and get everything put properly together.  He had to have taken his eyes off of the three men and the sheer magnificence of it all.  Many of us do that.   We can get so taken aback by surprises in our lives that we busy ourselves trying “do” rather than just “be” and absorb what God is doing in our lives.

On the other hand, Peter is absolutely speechless; he doesn’t know what to say.  Mark says he and his campadres were scared to death.  Scared speechless.

Well, the voice coming from the cloud announcing that Jesus was God’s son and they had better listen to him must have been the icing on the cake.  They heard God’s voice.

And, then, just as quickly as the vision appeared to them (and I use the word “vision” advisedly, because what they saw was very real), Moses and Elijah were gone and Jesus was looking normal again.

Our passage ends with the four of them coming down the mountain and Jesus telling them to keep their mouths shut until “after the Son of Man is raised from the dead.”

It’s kind of interesting to me that often when Jesus performed his healing miracles, he would admonish the newly healthy person not to tell anyone, and then he or she would head off in the opposite direction and tell everyone he or she knew.  But, apparently, these disciples decided to listen to Jesus and do exactly what he told them.  Maybe hearing the voice of God actually had some impact on them.  It was not the first time God had identified Jesus as His son (that happened back when Jesus was baptized), but it was the first time the disciples were introduced to God on this first-hand basis and given this first-hand information.

There is a saying attributed to Abraham Lincoln that goes something like this:  “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.”

It does make me wonder if these guys were really heeding what Jesus said or if they had some concern that the folks back home would think they were off their rockers if they went around spreading the word that they had seen the glory of the Lord speaking to Moses and Elijah.

It’s also another one of the big reasons that we would disagree with those who say they don’t need the church or “organized religion;” that they can feel closer to God on their own.  Taking a personal retreat for the sole purpose of communing with God is one thing.  Jesus did that.  But Jesus always came back to his community, his church family.  And when Jesus went up that mountain to meet with the dead guys who represented all the Jews knew about the law and the prophets, he didn’t go alone.  He deliberately took his students with him so that they could witness – with one another – that this thing – whatever it was – actually happened.

But why did it happen?  Why did the transfiguration take place at all?  Why was Jesus changed in such a way that human eyes had never before witnessed such glory?  And let me suggest to you that Jesus was not the only one changed there on the mountain.  You can bet your sweet bippy the three disciples were changed too.

On the one hand, this scripture is about God speaking into the world.  It is God’s presence in this current life.  It is a glimpse of what heaven is like; God’s glory.

On the other hand, it is about the disciples, how hard it is to be a disciple, how hard it is to understand what it means to be a disciple.  Because to be a disciple, to be a student of Jesus, means giving oneself way beyond the point at which it begins to hurt.  To be a disciple means living with the mystery yet accepting as second nature the glory of God – not after we die, but before we do.  As the men walked back down that mountain, they were no doubt buoyed by the miracle they had witnessed and the voice they had heard from the cloud.  But as scared as they were when it all happened, I have to think that they had gotten an inkling of the difficult journey that was to be ahead of them.  Listening to Jesus and following through is not easy.

If you ask a “class” of potential knee replacement patients awaiting surgery, they will inevitably tell you and without hesitation that going down a set of stairs is infinitely harder than going up.  Even after replacement, and because of the impact of your body’s weight on that joint, going down is harder than going up.  The good news is that the more you heal and the stronger you get, the notion of pain or the fear of it tends to go away.  Perhaps, prior to surgery, we have become so conditioned to having pain as we walk down a set of stairs or a hill, that after surgery, we expect that pain to continue and wince every time we take a step down.  Then all of a sudden one day we realize that there is no need to automatically anticipate that pain and, therefore, no need to wince at something that is non-existent.

Going up that hill or mountain, even if it were a steep climb, might have left our friends winded.  But it would have been nothing compared to how their breaths were taken away by what they witnessed.  We don’t know if there was any conversation on the walk back down the mountain.  But I’ll bet it was harder going down than it was going up.  They had not yet realized that the more we serve the Lord, as painful as it can be, the pain of service is nothing as we become the ones changed by service to God and to each other.  And we build one another up not by doing it alone, but by serving together.

Presbyterian preacher and professor Tom Long tells the story of the call he got from a rabbi in Atlanta, asking to see him.  The two friends got together and the rabbi said, “Tom, our Temple is in the process of having an inter-faith dialogue with the Presbyterian Church down the street.”

Rev. Dr. Long said, “Well, that’s great!”

The rabbi said, “No, it’s not.”  He said the problem was that the Jews didn’t know their scriptures, and the Presbyterians didn’t know anything about the gospel.  He said, “There isn’t enough faith between the two groups to “inter” anything!

On top of that, it seems that when the conversation first got started, the Presbyterians took the rabbi aside and, wanting to be politically correct and so as not to offend their Jewish friends, they told the rabbi that he needn’t worry:  they would not be talking about Jesus.

“Oh, yes, you will!” the rabbi told them.  “You are Christians.  We fully expect and want to hear what you have to say about Jesus.”

And he completed his story with Tom by saying, “Somebody has to stand up for Jesus; I guess it might as well be me.”

What about you?  Have you seen the glory of the Lord?  Have you heard God’s voice in your life?  Do you want to?  Do you want to be changed as dramatically as Jesus and those disciples were changed on that mountaintop?  Listen, know and accept that there is incredible mystery in the midst of believing that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.  And in listening and following, we will be buoyed, given strength to witness and to serve even on the downside of the mountain.  Amen.

Meditation

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 and Mark 1:40-45

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

February 12, 2012 (Hymn Sing Sunday)

com•pas•sion \kəm-ˈpa-shən\ noun [Middle English, from Anglo-French or Late Latin; Anglo-French, from Late Latin compassion-, compassio, from compati to sympathize, from Latin com- + pati to bear, suffer — more at patient] 14th century : sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it synonym see pity ^[1]

I was reminded this week of how easy it is to feel and demonstrate deep compassion, sympathy and even pity for those we love, for those we call friends, for those we don’t even know but whose stories move us to tears.  Back when television and I were both very young (and television was in black and white), there was what I recall a show called “Queen for a Day.”  And what I recall about it is that several women would appear on each show and they would share stories of their lives of hardship and suffering.  I suppose, in a way, it was the first “reality show” way back when.  I remember as a child feeling so sorry for some of these ladies and seeing them on television made their hurt that much more real to me.  Anyway, through some means I don’t remember (an “applause-o-meter”?), one of those ladies was crowned “Queen for a Day” and given gifts and granted dreams.  Sometimes I would cry at their stories.  They elicited a sense of compassion in me – even as a 4- or 5-year-old.

But, then, so did Lassie.  Whether Timmy had fallen into a well or someone else was in dire straits, Lassie’s own ability to understand when someone needed compassion taught me about compassion too – and the need to help whenever I could.

It’s so easy to feel compassion for people we know and love, for people we read about or see on TV, for animals that are hurt or mistreated.  It’s not so easy to feel compassion for those we know and judge to be short on common sense or of a differing political opinion, or who struggle with illnesses, addictions, and personal issues that we just don’t understand.  It’s not so easy to feel compassion about people who are the object of gossip and rumor-mongering, or who have somehow betrayed us.

But the key to compassion, at least according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary definition, is not to just sense other peoples’ or animals’ distress, but to have “a desire to alleviate it.”  It’s one thing to feel badly for someone or something.  It’s something else to step up and out and do something about it; to take the risk of getting involved; to risk criticism from others who may not share our sense of sympathy for someone in distress.  After all, if a person has brought that distress upon themselves, to “take up” with him or her exposes us to their problems, their illnesses, their possible guilt.  We are then guilty by association and also the subject of the great rumor mill.

To demonstrate compassion risks our time, our personal involvement and the judgment of the community around us.  Sometimes we risk hurting ourselves.

And what did Jesus do?

I heard a sermon preached on this passage of scripture a number of years ago, but I don’t remember the sermon.  I remember the scripture.  The preacher was an ordained Presbyterian minister and president of a Baptist college.  When he read the scripture, he substituted a different disease every time the word leprosy or leper came up.  I gasped.  The room went quiet.  Because, you see, he drove home the point that Jesus’ actions were not just for a man with a disease virtually unknown to us today.  You can probably guess that he read the scripture this way:

A man with AIDS came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean! Immediately the HIV left him, and he was made clean.”

And so it was that the scripture was put in the context of something we know today.

Jesus, you see, took the risk of not only talking with a man with a highly communicable disease and shunned by the culture around him, but he risked taking the time from his ministry to others to care for someone and express compassion for someone who, for all we know, may have brought that disease upon himself.  Jesus also risked the judgment of those around him, of his friends and followers, and certainly the leaders of the Temple.  Jesus was breaking religious laws by expressing compassion for this man who was previously unknown to him.  Jesus, as he stretched out his hand and touched the diseased man, chose not only to heal him, but to break down the cultural barriers that would have denied the man any kind of life similar to the society around him.  Because Jesus loved him and expressed compassion for him – even without knowing him first,  the man would be no longer shunned or be the object of gossip.  He would immediately become a part of mainstream society and culture.  And the man couldn’t wait to go out and tell others what Jesus had done for him.

A story is told about a soldier who was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam.  He called his parents from San Francisco.  “Mom and Dad, I’m coming home, but I’ve got a favor to ask. I have a friend I’d like to bring with me.”

“Sure,” they replied, “we’d love to meet him.”

“There’s something you should know,” the son continued. “He was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mine and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live.”

“No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us.”

“Son,” said the father, “you don’t know what you’re asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can’t let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He’ll find a way to live on his own.”

At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him.

A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building, they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn’t know: their son had only one arm and one leg.

It is so easy to have compassion for those we know and love and who are accepted by society, who do not take too much of our time or cause us to re-examine how we might feel about them.  But we don’t want to be inconvenienced and we certainly don’t want to have to change our strong opinions about what’s right and what’s wrong in another person’s life.  If they don’t measure up to our standards, it’s much easier to turn our backs on them than to risk having our own worlds upset.

Paul tells the Corinthian church that in order to be disciples of Christ, they must train as athletes train, enslaving themselves to that training (which is living the life of Christ) so that they may win that imperishable wreath – that ultimate prize of eternal life with Christ.  Insinuated in this is taking punishment for living that life and taking that punishment is every form imaginable.  But in the context of demonstrating compassion, it would certainly mean risking our preconceived notions about people, risking our own position in the community, and risking our time and, perhaps, money.

Back when television was new, everything on it was black and white.  Right or wrong, life used to be like that for many of us.  And many of us, regardless of our age, continue to want to believe that everything is black and white.  But it is not today nor was it in Jesus’ day.  So when we are tempted to write someone off because they are different or because they have done something wrong, we cannot turn to culture to tell us what is right and wrong.  We have to yield to the demonstration of compassion of Jesus Christ our Lord who would have us shun not the person, but power, worldly wisdom, and privilege.  It’s the only way we can know the right thing to do.      Amen.

“Risking Love”

Mark 1:29-39

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

February 5, 2012

            It’s important for us to see this passage of scripture in its context.  You will recall last week we read the passage just before this one.  It was very early in Jesus’ ministry and he had entered the Temple to worship and to preach.  In the midst of that, the drove a demon out of a man possessed.

The passage we have today follows that immediately.  Jesus leaves the Temple, goes to the home of Simon and Andrew, heals Simon’s ill mother-in-law.  Then he steps outside the house and heals many more who are possessed by demons or suffer various kind of diseases and who have already heard of the miracle healing he did in the Temple.

Then, without telling anyone, he sneaks out before dawn and goes off to a place to be by himself and to pray.  The scripture tells us that Simon and friends hunted for him and the word that’s used in the original Greek would give a very strong meaning to that word hunt.  They hunted him like they would hunt an animal.  It wasn’t a happenstance that they came across him.  They tracked him, maybe asking others if they had seen him and what direction he was headed.  And when they find him, they insist that he go back with them because people are clamoring for his attention and hunting for him too.  But Jesus, not willing to go back to the call of the crowds, tells his new apostles to join him as he heads out to neighboring towns to preach.  For “that is what I came out to do,” he says.  And he heads out to do just that.

Now understand that all of this has taken place in probably a 24-hour period.  Jesus has suddenly become a superstar.  People heard about him and even without the Internet, without electronic communication, his fame has spread and people want to be part of that.

You would probably guess that I would not allow a Super Bowl Sunday to pass by without some kind of nod to football.  And I’m not going to talk about the two teams that are playing today, but I can’t help but make mention of a young quarterback that has drawn the attention of those who have even little interest in the sport itself.

Tim Tebow became a sudden superstar during the season just ended when he took over as quarterback for the Denver Broncos.  He didn’t have much support from anybody, including coaches and owners of the team, but the Broncos were on a big losing streak and it seemed there was nowhere else to turn.  At least it seemed they had nothing to lose by putting this Heisman Trophy winner out there on the field.

The result was six straight wins for the Broncos, with several contests ending in breathtaking leadership by Tebow either in “Hail Mary” passes or running the ball himself.  His style is unconventional and rough.  It’s questionable whether he can even throw a spiral.  But somehow, Tebow manages to get the ball where it is supposed to go to win a game.  He is not yet a great quarterback, and may never be.  But there is something about Tim Tebow that gathers the forces of the Broncos to work together and make things come out right.  Toward the end of the season, I found myself laughing softly to myself as I saw co-owner John Elway (a former quarterback himself) had left the protection of the owners’ box and had come down on the field to stand with the team on the sidelines.  He was so excited about how his team had turned around he just could not contain himself.

Well, the story would be good enough with just that.  But, of course, besides Tim Tebow’s unconventional method of quarterbacking, he also has drawn attention because at the end of every game, he finds a spot (it used to be a corner of the field, but now he just grabs whatever spot he can), he falls to one knee, bows his head, and prays.  As the cameras focus in on him, you can see his lips moving as he thanks God and praises God for God’s many blessings.  He has been overheard singing “Awesome God” in the middle of a game and between plays on the field.

Such public displays of religiosity have not come without criticism.  Many people – and there may be many of you in this room – prefer public displays of faith be kept out of the public eye.  They don’t approve of what has become known as “tebowing,” praying in public after a game.  Comedians make fun of him, spurn him, and are bitter in their comedy about him.

But the fact remains that while Tim Tebow is now more famous than Jesus (in terms of Google searches), searches for Jesus on Google have jumped dramatically since Tebow began to pray on the field.

There’s a lot more to this young man than football.  His parents were missionaries.  His mother was advised to abort him for her own health, but she refused.  He finds time before and after each of his games to visit a child with cancer or other terminal disease.  Even while the rest of the team is out celebrating, Tebow is with a kid somewhere.  And, in the for what it’s worth department, he says he is celibate, saving himself for marriage.

I don’t care whether you like him or not.  I don’t care if you think he’s a good football player or not.  I don’t care if you agree with his evangelical religious beliefs or not.

But here’s what we need to take from our lesson on Tim Tebow on this Super Bowl Sunday – a Super Bowl in which he will not even be playing:  Tim Tebow takes God with him to work.  He takes God with him to practices, to big games, to visit sick kids.  He has God with him in the locker room and in the news interviews.  When Tim Tebow falls on one knee at the end of a game to thank God, he’s not doing it for the public attention, he’s doing it because he loves God.  And he continues to take the risk of doing it in public and getting criticism for it.

He ignores the risk he takes by doing it, because he loves Christ.  Christ comes first in his life.  He tunes out his critics and all of the hoopla surrounding him by focusing on his faith, his family, and the kids.

I am not comparing Tim Tebow to Jesus Christ.  But I cannot help but see that Tim Tebow learned something from this passage of scripture we have today and others similar to it in Mark and the other Gospels where Jesus knew he had to tune out the hoopla, get away to a quiet place, and spend time with God, praising God, thanking God, asking for God’s help.  Jesus knew that the demands on him were great.  That once he was known for what he could do for others, the pressure would never let up.  Jesus had to know that if he did not make room for God in his life, he would be open to temptations that corrupt including a desire for power and adulation.  Jesus had to give God the credit.  Jesus knew that all good things come from the Lord (James 1:17).  And because Jesus loved God and put God first in his life, he was able to take the risk to heal people on that Sabbath, to cure people and risk being rundown to cure others as they shouted for his help, to risk never having a moment to himself but making certain he did anyway – at least a moment for himself and for God.

Now, you can argue that Jesus did go off by himself for that time with God.  Even Jesus would have trouble finding a way to do that today and with the clamor about him.  If Tebow has to grab a few seconds on the field to remind himself who is really important in his life, I would suspect that we might catch Jesus in a snapshot bowing his head at some point during his day.

It doesn’t make any difference to me whether Tim Tebow ends up being an outstanding quarterback or not except, of course, for those moments in which he is given the spotlight and he uses that time to praise God – because he is truly an evangelist.

What does make a difference to me is that Tim Tebow and you and I all make a point of continuing to take God to work with us, to school with us, to the grocery store or to the gas station or the bar, never forgetting that God is present and loving us, taking moments in our days to – if not get down on a knee – to bow our heads for 30 seconds, tuning out the hoopla around us, and thanking God for all that’s good and asking for strength to get through all that’s bad.  We don’t have to wait for Sunday morning worship and some preacher to stand up front and do that for us.

Prayer is nothing more than a conversation with God.  But instead of “gimme, gimme, gimme,” or “help me, help me, help me,” perhaps a simple thank you would be nice, acknowledging the risk God has taken for each of us because God loves us so much he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him might have eternal life (John 3:16).

Amen.

“Out of Control”

Mark 1:21-28

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

January 29, 2012

            I can’t tell you the number of times I have heard people from many churches say, “I just don’t get anything out of worship.”  Usually they are saying that in reference to the preacher’s sermons and they use that as a reason not to come to worship anymore.  Sometimes people have said that to me.  “I just don’t get your sermons.  I don’t get anything out of them.” Sometimes they will say it because the order of worship didn’t follow their expected pattern.  Perhaps there were some new and unfamiliar hymns.  Maybe there were some new responses that had replaced those that had been part of the regimen for years.  It could be that a new affirmation of faith had taken the place of “The Apostles Creed” for a given Sunday or that the creed was said in a way that didn’t have the same monotonous tone that often accompanies those bits of ritual we repeat week after week and year after year.  I’ve heard people complain that they didn’t get anything out of worship because someone had the gall to applaud in the midst of it or clap along with a lively tune.  “I just don’t get anything out of worship,” they say.  Sometimes it is because things are not done in the traditional way that we see as “decently and in order.”   But it’s most often directed at the preaching.

Well, I’ve got news for you.  You getting something out of worship isn’t the primary reason we do it in the first place.  We gather on the Sabbath to glorify God, to praise and thank God for the way God is working in our lives.  And if we are truly worshipping God, we may experience God in a new and unexpected way.  Instead of wondering what we may get out of worship this week, we should be wondering what we’re going to put into real and true worship this week, and whether God is going to get anything at all from our worship – even in spite of our disgust with someone’s preaching or various parts of the service.

In Mark’s rendition of the gospel this morning, Jesus has just begun his ministry.  It’s early on in the book, and Jesus and a few of his first followers have headed off to “church” for an opportunity to worship God.  True, it would appear that Jesus intended to teach when he arrived there, but he didn’t go to get anything out of worship.  He went in humility to glorify God.  He wowed the scribes (much later the scribes would become what we know as rabbis) who wondered how he could teach with such authority – authority they did not themselves possess.  It was simply hearing him that convinced them of this authority.  He never claimed it for himself.

All that said, it probably would have been a pretty ordinary day in the church (Temple).  They would have sung the traditional songs, chanted the traditional litanies, prayed the traditional prayers.  But God had something else in mind.

You see, God meets us where we are.  We might come to church with some high falutin’ idea of how all of this should work together, but God is coming to church too, and it’s God’s intention to move us, sometimes to tears and in very unexpected ways.

And so the man with the demon shows up.  Ordinarily, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to go to the Temple.  He was different, after all.  Just didn’t fit in.  Possessed by something that neither he nor anyone else understood, but certainly shunned by the establishment and anyone who wanted to stay in good stead with it.  But something or someone besides a demon possessed him that day to go to worship.  When he showed up, the demon inside of him forced him to identify Jesus (isn’t it interesting that it was the demon who seemed to be the only one who recognized who Jesus was?) by shouting his name, his hometown, and then telling everyone within earshot that this was the “Holy One of God.”  Jesus didn’t cotton to that.  It must have been as though the demon were taking the Lord’s name in vain.  And so he told the man to shut up and demanded that the demon come out of him.

This could not have been a pretty sight.  The scripture says the man convulsed or had some kind of seizure.  The demon’s exit was violent and loud (or, to quote a recent movie title, “extremely loud and incredibly close”).  The place must have been shaken to the core to the point that if they had pews like ours, the bolts would have flown out of the floor and the pews tumbled over.  People who were used to doing things decently and in order (gee, these Jews must have been pre-Presbyterians!) had an experience of God’s presence they had never known before.  It had to be frightening for anyone who witnessed it, but what must have been going through the mind of the man who had been possessed?  Do you think he just lay there on the Temple floor?  Do you think he was surprised?  Relieved?  Might he have been moved to tears?  Did he get down on his knees in thanks?  Might he have applauded the work that Jesus had done on his behalf?  Would anyone have blamed him for any of those reactions?

Everyone else, for their part, seemed not to be troubled by the fact that the order of worship had been thrown aside for the day.  The scripture says they were “amazed” and were overwhelmed with this authority that the scribes had already sensed.  Here was a guy, a simple teacher, who could get unclean spirits to obey him.

Now, perhaps none of you may struggle with demons, but I really doubt that is the case.  All of us have a demon or two that permeates our lives and the way we live.  We may think we have our houses in order (and decently in order), but if any of us did, we would be perfect and none of us is perfect.  And so we come to worship sometimes fully aware of the struggles we have within and other times completely oblivious to the demons that possess us.  And, yet, God meets us where we are.  God is here and God is ready to unbolt the pews and send us flying.

I have my own personal struggles with demons, several of them.  But I can personally attest to a time when, in the midst of the ordinary order of worship, when I already had figured out that there was absolutely nothing I was going to take out of that service, God met me and, I sometimes wonder if I met God perhaps for the first time that day (after a lifetime of traditional worship services).  It wasn’t the preaching that did it – we hadn’t even gotten that far in the service.  As it happened to me, it was the prayer of confession that got to me and it came as a complete surprise.  What I know is that in that ordinary worship, I was so moved by God’s hand that I leapt up and ran from the sanctuary so that I could sit in my car and just sob without worrying what other people might think.  I was so overcome with the presence of God in my life that I did not feel that anyone around me in worship would understand or even want to.  As I look back on it, I had done such a good job of covering up my demons that none of my church family would have recognized the power and authority that had come into my own life.  For me to stay and be part of that service and even disrupt it with my own knowledge of God’s presence with me was unthinkable to a person who knew that everything we did in worship had to be done decently and in order and what I was feeling did not fit into that category.

It’s a sad commentary on us, isn’t it?  Sad that one among us would be moved to tears by the joy, the love of God and be afraid to share it?  Sad that the rest of us have some preconceived notion, some inside information of how worship should play out every single Sunday?  We are so puffed up with our knowledge of how we should hold a worship service (as though we were holding some kind of public information meeting) that we can’t allow the Holy Spirit to move us or allow others to demonstrate how the Holy Spirit is moving them.

After Jesus had shut up the demon and driven it out of the man, people began to talk.  And the scripture says that his fame began immediately to spread through the region.

Do we ever leave this place awash in the glow of the Spirit and anxious to talk with others about what we have witnessed, what we have experienced in the midst of worship?  Or do we just shrug our shoulders and say, “Well, I didn’t get much out of that.”

And how can we not get much out of that if we truly believe that God is with us and meets us where we are and in the condition we find ourselves today?

We have to allow God to tear the bolts out of the floors and upset the pews.  We have to acknowledge with humility that God, when we come to worship God rather than to get something out of worship, will sometimes insult us, will move us to a point where we are out of control, force us to recognize that what we hear is disturbing.  We will find ourselves in a place where we cannot help but shed tears, where we are moved to applaud the wonderful, marvelous and mysterious movement of God in each of our lives.

And if something like that hasn’t happened to you in the midst of worship – here or anywhere – then you are either too young or you’re coming to worship to see what you can get out of it rather than considering what God is going to get out of you.

Yes, we aim to do things decently and in order.  But only to the extent that we are honoring the authority and power of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Beyond that, God will have God’s way with us. None of this excuses the preacher from proper sermon preparation or allowing the Holy Spirit to work in him or her to offer words of challenge and words of comfort.  It doesn’t excuse me from making proper music choices.  And it doesn’t excuse the worship committee or the session (our governing board) from overseeing all of worship.  But it also does not excuse you from coming fully prepared to have your socks knocked off as you offer your worship and praise to God.  It does not give you an excuse to claim you get nothing out of the service.

We can get so puffed up with the knowledge of how things should be done from our own point of view that we forget that we’re not the only ones in the room.  And every one of us has an idea of what a worship service should be.  But all of us are not the only ones in the room either.  God is here and it is God who will have the final word about whether our worship is proper, whether it honors God and Christ and whether we have allowed the Holy Spirit to run loose and free in the midst of all of this.

The apostle Paul says “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” (1 Corinthians 8:1b)  We come to worship God not because of what we know, but because of what God knows.  And what God knows is that God loves us and will tell us so.  And will set our demons loose.  Praise God who allows us to be freed from preconceived notions of how God will touch us when we come to worship God first and worry about what we take out of the service later.  Amen.

“One for All”

Jonah 3:1-5,10 and 1 Corinthians 8:1-13

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

January 22, 2012

            Many of you, I’m sure, have had the same experiences I have had when it come to debating anything, but, especially, politics and religion.  We get into our coffee klatches or at a football party, or at a dinner, and sometimes even at church and we debate and argue the topics of the day or what seems like very definitive, minute pieces of scripture.  If our relationships are strong enough, they will not only survive those discussions, but they will thrive as a result of them.

But too often those debates become a matter of “winning” for this person or that.  They won’t let the subject go until they have (in their own minds) won and proven everyone else wrong.  And, as we are coming to understand more and more, there isn’t really a way to “win” most arguments in this day and age – things aren’t as black and white as they used to be.  The world, as many of us have known it is passing away, as the Apostle Paul said.  But there is always an opportunity to tweak an idea or a policy or an interpretation that provides for a better outcome.  When people get together and really want to find an answer to a problem, they often discover that bringing diverse ways of thinking to the table helps improve the outcome.  Then everyone wins.

But more often, in the coffee klatches to which I referred a moment ago (and certainly in the State Legislature and in Congress), winning has nothing to do with producing a better outcome.  The person who wins an argument is more often the one who outlasts everyone else in the group.  Either folks get up and physically walk away or they just say something like, “OK, Gretchen, have it your way.  I’m not going to argue with you about it.”  Then, for appearances sake, I win.

But, of course, I don’t.

Jonah had one of these debates with God about those folks in Nineveh.  It’s safe to say that Jonah and God agreed that the people in Nineveh were sinful people.  They may have also agreed that the people of Nineveh needed to repent or turn away from their sinfulness.  But it’s at that point that Jonah and God have a parting of the ways, so to speak.  God tells Jonah that he must go to Nineveh and tell the people to repent.  Jonah says no way he’s wasting his time and energy with such a loathsome bunch.  God says yes you will.  Jonah says no I won’t.  God says yes you will.  Jonah leaves the table and runs the opposite direction from Nineveh.

Jonah, of course, winds up in the belly of that big fish for a few days until the fish gets tired of him too and spits him out.  Then Jonah has another conversation with God and heads off to Nineveh to do what God has told him to do in the first place.  But he’s still none too happy about it.

The story says that Nineveh was big enough that it took three days to walk all the way across it.  So Jonah sucked it up and headed through.  I can imagine him in a long striped robed holding a big sign that said “Repent, for the end is near!” and yelling that same message as he tried to avoid eye contact with any of these low-lives with which he was now being forced to associate.

So, he does what he’s supposed to do and what happens?  The people actually listen!  It might as well been back during the Civil Rights movement when there were so many white people who would not associate with black people.  And Jonah walked through the crowd with his sign and yelling and, suddenly, everyone saw the light and white people immediately accepted black people as their equals.

Oh, that the Civil Rights movement could have been that easy!

But Jonah didn’t like it one bit.  And when he finished his job, saw the people had changed for the better, it didn’t make any difference to him because they were still low-lives in his book and felt they should be punished for what they had done.  He had his opinion of them and he was sticking with it.  He had passed his judgment and that was all that mattered to him.

God, however, had another idea.  God forgave them.

Jonah was livid and went to sulk under a bush.

God (who I have think was smirking a bit about Jonah’s sulking) put a worm into the bush that killed it so Jonah didn’t even have any shelter from the hot sun.  And it ticked him off.  He took out his anger for the Ninevites and God’s forgiveness of them on the bush.  Easy to do with an inanimate object.  Some of us would kick the dog instead.

And God said, “You’re more concerned about that darned bush than you are the humans beings that live in Nineveh.  What would you have me do?  Should I put a worm into Nineveh and destroy it?  No.  These are people that I love.  We gave them time and a warning and they heeded that warning.  So I changed my mind about punishing them.  And I forgave them instead.”

Well, we don’t know what happened to Jonah after that, whether he felt God had “won” the argument or not.  And, of course, it wasn’t about God winning anything except, perhaps, winning over the people of Nineveh, and God did that by using Jonah in spite of himself.

The key to this is that God gave the people enough time and the right person to help them come to their senses.  But Paul points out in the New Testament as do many other stories in the Old Testament that time is not necessarily on our side when it comes to getting right with the Lord and repenting of our own sinfulness, our own judgments of others, our own desire to win arguments and prove everyone else is wrong.  Paul says “the present form of this world is passing away.”  It’s time to put up or shut up and quit arguing about who’s right and who’s wrong – and turn to God who is the only one who is always right.

The actress Diane Keaton tells the story[1] of her father’s terminal illness.  As she was driving him home from the hospital to spend his last days, while she was at a loss for words, he was not.  “He wished he had spent less of his life working and spent more time with her.  He wished he had traveled more.  He wished he had taken more risks.

“Keaton remembers hearing his words and reflecting, there in the car, on her own life’s regrets.  She, too, had been averse to risk-taking, especially in the area of intimacy with other human beings.  It was then, she remembers, that she chose to pursue adopting a child.”

Jonah had to take a risk to make that trudge through Nineveh.  Had he not, God would have punished those people.  But because Jonah grudgingly took that walk, people heard the good news of God’s love for them and they wanted to change.  They, too, decided to take the risk to change their lives, to make their lives better by leaving their desires, their addictions, their self-interests behind and moving ahead with the One who is always right.

You see, when we are busy making judgments about other people, then we are also way too likely to write them off as unworthy of our love and, most certainly, God’s love.  And when we, like Jonah, make those decisions based on our worldly knowledge and back it up with snippets of scripture to support our own righteousness, then we are making ourselves the center of the universe.  And I’ve got news for you:  Copernicus called and you’re NOT the center of the universe.[2]

God the Father is – or should be – the center of our universe.  Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit are at the center of the universe.  The One God is the One God for all of us, believers and unbelievers, sinners one and all.

God’s actions are more often than not a mystery to us.  And we will always have questions about why God would let someone get away with proverbial murder when we could not.  And as I have shared with you before, my West River South Dakota rancher friend used to says, “It just ain’t divided up right.”  Well, that’s right.  In our minds at least.  And, in God’s mind too, things are not divided up right and that’s why God put many of us on the earth in the first place – to get the arithmetic straightened out:  to help make things right for people like those in Nineveh who, up until the visit from Jonah just didn’t know about the love of God.

Paul reminds us that time is short.  He is referring to Jesus’ return, of course.  But folks, whether Christ returns within our lifetimes or not, time is short.  “For the present form of this world is passing away.”

Take a risk.  Quit debating, arguing, fighting over who’s right and who’s wrong and know that God is always right and share that with others and with the love of God for all.  One God for all.

Amen.

“Testimony”

Tom

John 1:43-51

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

January 15, 2012

I was born in 1979 in Trenton, Michigan.  My parents were very young when my sister and I were born.  Not sure how well I would have handled raising two children starting at the ages of 18 and 20.   My family lived in Michigan until 1991 and then we moved to Spring Green, Wi.  Spring Green is like heaven to me compared to Eastern Michigan.  My sister and I adapted well.  I was baptized shortly after moving to Wisconsin but I didn’t have a relationship with God and I didn’t even understand what baptism meant or why my parents wanted me to get baptized.

I attended River Valley High School and played baseball, basketball, and football.  Football was definitely my favorite sport, followed closely by basketball.  I was prom king for our junior prom.

As much as I liked football our school had a 3 strikes and your out rule and by my senior year I had managed to get my third strike.  I was suspended from football my senior year for underage drinking.  This was devastating to me. I felt like I had let down so many people.  I was

struggling with school and I was struggling with my parents.

I started drinking and had my first drink when I was 13 years old.

I did graduate from River Valley High School in 1997 and didn’t know what I was going to do for a career.  I knew that college was not an option as I was already seeing a problem with my behaviors and I knew that college wasn’t going to be a good fit because of the partying option.

The school had an electrician come in and talk to us about skilled trades and apprenticeships.  I knew right away that was the fit for me. I didn’t claim to be the brightest kid but I could do physical labor and I wasn’t afraid of it.   One thing that being raised by young parents taught me was that I had to work hard for everything I had and that nothing would come easy.  I had worked all through high school and had two jobs my senior year.  I signed up as an apprentice electrician right out of high school.  I wasn’t even 18 yet and I was working on a large construction site.  The agreed wage was $8 per hour.  I worked my first 40 hour week and

my first paycheck was around $1,000.  This had to be a mistake, so I called the office and told them that they clearly overpaid me and they told me that there was no mistake that I am working on a prevailing wage job for the next year and I would be making $2 per hour.  This is when my life would change forever.

This is one time that God was trying to call out to me.  He had given me a blessing and I didn’t know what to do with it.

My parents told me that if I was to continue to live at their house I would need to start paying rent.  Let’s see.   Live with parents or move out on my own.  I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  I chose to go and live on my own.   I was already known for making bad decisions and this put me right on track for failure.  I was not a person that was learning from my

mistakes and my parents knew that something bad was going to happen.

I didn’t even make it that complete summer  of 1997 and I was arrested and had a 30 day jail sentence.  Along with the jail time I was also put on probation.  In 1998 and 1999 I continued to use alcohol and drugs and was jailed on several probation violations.  Finally in 1999 I was sent to a rehabilitation center located in a minimum security prison, near Oshkosh.    I was battling alcohol and drug addictions.  I knew it deep down but didn’t really know what to do about it.

This was not my original plan.  I was planning on doing something else.  I had visions of having a wife and family and doing normal things.  Not going to jail and always trying to explain myself to my employer for why I was late or why I didn’t show up for work.

While in the rehabilitation center I found God  and  being a young man in an intimidating place, God is exactly what I needed.    I was isolated from my family and my friends but I didn’t feel alone.  God had filled the hole that I had that I was trying to fill with the alcohol and drugs.   I knew peace and fully accepted the choices that I had made in my life.

I was released after 8 months.   My job was waiting for me when I came home.   I had to learn to find new friends and new activities.  Now living with my parents didn’t seem like a bad option.  I joined a church.  I was sober for my 21^st birthday.  I was looking forward to my 21^st birthday to legally drink alcohol and now I didn’t even want it.

I continued to walk with God and my decision making was clearly getting better.  This continued for another year and in the meantime I met my wonderful wife Adrianne.   Adrianne had no idea for the ride that I was about to put her in for.   Adrianne and I had lots in common and she would attend church with me.

At some point I thought it would be ok to go back to “Tom’s Way” instead of “God’s Way.”   I had proven to myself over and over again that I was not capable of making good decisions.   My best thinking got me in a lot of trouble.   I started drinking and using drugs again.   Slowly my relationship with God fizzled away.

Adrianne and I got married in 2002 at Westminster Presbyterian church in Madison.    In 2004 we had our first son Anthony.  Sometime around then is when we became members at First Presbyterian in Lodi.  Things were going smoothly for me at this point.  I was managing my abuse but I still had guilt and shame.

I started using more and more and I was getting out of control.   Adrianne and I were attending church but I was not living a life that represented anything like a Christian’s life.

This went on for the next couple of years.   I wasn’t getting arrested or losing my job so I just continued on the path.  Adrianne and I would get into normal arguments about my using and I would just beg for her forgiveness the next day.

I think at this time is when God inserted Terry and Gretchen into my life.  I was hired by the Andersons to do an electrical job.  They had purchased a product from the company I was working for and I was doing most of the electrical installations at the time.  The way I remember it is that it was a beautiful May morning and Brett and I arrived to be greeted by Terry.   He told us that his wife is a pastor and was called away this morning because of a fatal automobile accident and Gretchen had to go be with the family members.

Gretchen came home as we were finishing the project.  I didn’t know what or why but I liked the Andersons and they seemed like very nice people.   Over the next couple months I did some more electrical jobs for Terry and Gretchen and our relationship was growing and it just felt good being around them.   Unexpectedly, our pastor here left and our new pastor was Gretchen.  This was very exciting for me because I already knew Terry and Gretchen and our family really liked the church.  This made it even better.   One way to explain it is it’s like going to a football game that your favorite team is playing in or going to a game that is played between two teams and you are not in favor of either of them.   Not that you don’t like the teams, just that they’re not your favorite.   You don’t pay as close attention and you probably won’t come back as often.   This was a huge turning point for me because I felt that this was not just some strange coincidence.  Terry and Gretchen were put into my life for a reason.

In 2006 I was approached by a friend that owned the company I was working for about purchasing the business from him and his wife.   After some figuring and planning we decided to go into the pool and spa business.   Adrianne and I and Brett and Rene purchased the company.   I was so proud of myself at this point in my life.  I had already been through so much and had so many chances to throw it all away.   I had one son and Adrianne was pregnant with our second son and I was a business owner.  Not to mention I was becoming a pretty good electrician.  Clearly I had been guided by my Lord.  This was not my work.  My work would have had this all messed up and I would be trying to figure out what to do.

Cameron was born in 2007 and I was not happy with my behaviors.  I did not feel like I was being a good father for my children.   I knew that I had to make a change in my lifestyle or the kids and Adrianne were going to suffer from my consequences.

I did the only thing that I knew would work.  The only thing that ever brought me true peace and happiness.   I got down on my knees and begged for forgiveness and I prayed to take away the desire to drink or do drugs.

The only way I can describe it is a miracle.   I have not had the desire since that day.

If someone would have asked me in 1997 what my life would look like in 2012, there is no way I would have thought it was going to be this good.   We are expecting our third son in May and we are truly blessed.

I am telling you my story today because I want you to know that I am grateful for the decisions that I have made in my life and the experiences that I had to suffer to get to where I am today.   Maybe you haven’t been through the same situation as I but maybe you are struggling with your relationship with God, or maybe you know someone that doesn’t even know God.  You can use me and my story as an example of just how good God is and how God has worked in my life.

As a good friend of mine likes to say “God is good all the time.”

Matthew 2:1-12

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

January 8, 2012

            The Adler Planetarium in Chicago has, for several years, had available a film in one of what I call their “observatory theatres.”  It’s called “A Mystery Star.”  The point of the film is to examine what might have occurred in the night skies when the wise men, the magi, followed that star, first to Jerusalem and King Herod, and then on to Bethlehem where the star, according to the scripture, “stopped over the place where the child was.” (vs. 9)  In past years they have made the film just part of the regularly scheduled viewing.  Now, however, it is only shown when groups of 15 or more call to schedule it.  I’d really like for you to consider joining Terry and me next Advent to make a one-day trek down to Chicago and back to see the film and grab a lunch.  We can easily carpool to the commuter station at Harvard, IL, catch an early morning train, and be back by the end of the day.

Terry and I made that trip this year, just before Christmas, and had pre-arranged to join whatever group might have the showing.  We were blessed and were able to get in.

I wish I had a transcript, but I want to share with you in our very short amount of time this morning, my impressions of what I saw and heard.  As we leaned back in our seats, it was as though the entire night sky was spread out before us.  Scientists, astronomers, have been able to calculate what they believe the sky looked like in the Middle East in the days and months leading up to and passing the birth of the Christ child.  There are several theories as to what that “star” might have been.  Perhaps a comet.  Perhaps a meteor.  But the film does a pretty sound job of eliminating those theories, again through scientific means.  There were no comets at that time that would have been, say, of the visibility of a seldom seen Halley’s comet.  A meteor or meteor shower would not have had the brightness or the long life necessary to guide the magi all the way from Babylon (modern-day Iraq) to Bethlehem.

But there was, at that time, a phenomenon occurring over several months that would have attracted the attention of these wise men.

Now, remember, the magi were astrologers.  They made a lifetime of studying the stars and their movement.  There was no GPS back in those days and no compass.  If people traveled by day, they took well-known trade routes so they could see where others had gone before them.  But if they were to travel by night, especially if they wanted to avoid the heat of the day or travel through a desert, they would have enough knowledge of formations in the sky to lead them where they wanted to go.

These guys were no ordinary travelers.  It wasn’t that they just saw a star and started following it.

Now, as I recall the explanation, it was something like this:

Over the course of a year or so, the planets of Jupiter and Saturn, in their own orbits, came close to lining up with one another.  There were two or three times over that year that, as they made their loops around the sun and could be seen from earth, it would have appeared to any human eye that two stars, while not merging, were coming very close to one another.  The brightness of each star would have appeared to have increased as they came closer together.  Finally, as Jupiter and Saturn came almost directly in line with one another – so that to the human eye it appeared that they had completely become one, they were joined by a third planet:  Venus.  Now I haven’t studied astronomy much, but I do know that Venus is a really bright planet – what we generally think of as a star because it gives off so much light.  Venus is easily identifiable by most of us and is often called the morning star because it is one of the last “lights” of the night to disappear as the sun rises.

Now, remember the wise men said to King Herod, “we have observed his star at its rising.”  Some translations say, “we have observed his star in the East.”

What they saw after months and months of studying the night skies as these three planets came closer and closer in line with one another was the Star of the East.

To make all of this that much more interesting, before any of this started (in terms of the three planets lining up as they did to form what must have been a tremendous light), astrologers such as these magi had associated different parts of the sky, different constellations and such with different peoples.  And I tried to capture all this information in my head and couldn’t do it, but what I do know is that there was a part of the sky, a group of stars and planets that had, for many years, been associated with the Hebrew people.  Could it possibly have been a coincidence that as these three planets lined up together to form one bright star at its rising, that this star fell right into that part of the sky that students of the sky had already and long-associated with the Hebrew people?

That the star appeared to be so bright and was so clearly associated with the Hebrew part of the sky captured the attention of these three astrologers.

We do not know when they started out on their journey to follow that star.  But the film suggests that they traveled for three or four months before they reached Jerusalem.  Bethlehem is just down the road about five miles from that city of Herod.

The natural question arises, then, as to when it was that Jesus was actually born.  The film stated that there are arguments for a spring birth; it concludes, however, that Jesus was probably born sometime in the fall.  By the time the wise men arrived, Jesus would have been a toddler, no longer in that manger.  His parents had probably found some kind of home in Bethlehem and when the star stopped, the scripture says “it stopped over the place where the child was.”  Not where he lay, as the favorite song “Away in a Manger” suggests, but “where the child was.”

The scripture also says the wise men “when they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.”

Now that is interesting too!  These guys were not Jews!  Yet they were overjoyed.  And the reason they were was because they knew the prophecies of the Old or First Testament.  They knew the promises God had made to send a Messiah.  And they had probably figured out – even though the Jews had not – that the Messiah that God intended to send would be for all the people, not just the Jews.  The wise men weren’t called the wise men for nothing.  They were wise because they had educated themselves not just about those things and beliefs that immediately surrounded them, but about all the people in the expanse of the world that was known at that time.  They were wise because they were open-minded enough to know that there was an order to the skies and that God could use the skies to show even non-Jews that God had a plan and would fulfill it.  They were wise, because God gave them wisdom.

And what about that part about the star stopping?  I don’t recall that the film addressed that at all, but it must have seemed to come to a halt enough that these magi could easily determine where the child was living.  I don’t know that answer.  I personally wonder if the three planets had stayed lined up long enough for the wise men to arrive and then stopped shining as brightly as the three planets moved further apart once again in their own orbits.

This is going to happen again in the future.   Jupiter, Saturn and Venus are going to come into line with one another (at least from our human view on earth) hundreds of years from now.  By then, who knows what science will tell humankind about the coming of the Messiah.

Friends, when God created the earth and the heavens, the scripture tells us that all of it was created out of chaos.  God created order out of chaos.  God knew when those three planets were going to line up.  God knew that there were astrologers in Babylon who studied the night skies and who would make the long journey to find the boy Jesus.  God made the wise men wise.  And they were wise enough that in the midst of their own joy they knew not to return to King Herod because he could not be trusted.  And so they returned home by a different route.

If God can do all of that with three guys from the Middle East, what epiphany might God give you?

Praise be to the Creator: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Amen!

“All in God’s Good Time”

Ecclesiastes 3:1-13; Revelation 21:1-6a

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

January 1, 2012

            The first day of the new year.  A time for making resolutions for the coming year.  We make our minds up to change things in our lives, usually with an aim toward making us better people.  We resolve to lose weight, to quit drinking or smoking, to exercise more.  Sometimes we resolve to read the Bible more or find a plan to help us read a little of the Bible everyday.  We might resolve to read more in general – whether it is fiction or non-fiction – just to read more; we resolve to put aside some time in our days to relax, to devote more time to craft projects or sports or, dare we think it (?) to church and family.  The new year, the new calendar year is a date in time where we can mark time and how time passes in our lives.  We can measure how we are progressing based on how things are in our lives right now, on this day.

So we make resolutions.  Resolutions are often part of the legislative and executive processes in various levels of government.  A governor will often sign resolutions recognizing this person or that, this organization or that, this day or that.  Terry and I have a resolution signed by the governor of South Dakota recognizing May 23, 1981, as “Terry and Gretchen Day in South Dakota” because that’s the day we got married.

And law-making bodies of all ilk often come up with resolutions – usually called “joint resolutions” because they supposedly emanate from both houses of the body.  There’s an idea for such a resolution right now that’s being floated around the Wisconsin Legislature and through the internet that is pretty sure to attract proponents from both parties.  The brainchild of Rep. Gary Bies from up in the Door County area, the resolution would establish 12-12-12 (December 12, 2012) as Aaron Rodgers Day.  It is still in the process of being written, of course, so that it would reflect how the Packers end this football year, but it points out such salient features as the fact that A-Rodge wears the #12 on his jersey, that he is the “best quarterback playing in the NFL,” that his teammates trust him and look to him for leadership, that he became the first quarterback in NFL history to achieve various records, and that he is active in various charitable organizations.

When a resolution passes a legislature or comes out of the Office of the Governor, it has no force of law behind it.  A resolution simply reflects the intent at that particular moment in time of political leaders to express how they’re feeling about this person or that, this subject or that.  Governmental resolutions are just like the resolutions that you and I make at the first of the year:  we intend to do certain things, but if we don’t, nobody’s going to haul us off to jail for it.  Resolutions are simply a host of good intentions expressed at a particular moment in time.

Contrast our human resolutions, then, with those of God.  I have talked with you before about human time vs. God’s time.  Human time is referred to as chronos (that’s where we get the word chronological) and God’s time is a different word completely:  kairos.  Chronological time is easily tracked by watches, by calendars, by stopwatches.  But God’s time has no beginning and no end.  That God would resolve to set out for us a time for this or a time for that raises our understanding from the superficial level of a few years of human time (which we daily try to control) to the unending time of God (which we cannot control).

God tells us there is a time for every purpose under heaven:  to be born, to die, plant, harvest, kill, heal, war, peace, cry, laugh, grieve, dance – every purpose of heaven is listed in this scripture from Ecclesiastes.  And it is summed up at the end by reminding us that we humans have been given by God a sense of time, of a beginning and an end, but that God’s time remains a mystery to us; we cannot fathom God’s time at all.  Yet it is God’s intention, God’s resolution, that we should all be happy and enjoy ourselves our whole lives long.

Doesn’t always happen, does it?  We aren’t always happy and we don’t always enjoy ourselves.  Some of us have just muddled through the holidays and we’re ready to have that over so we can move on with our lives.  Some of us feel trapped in these artificial dates we have set for ourselves (for Pete’s sake, Jesus wasn’t born on December 25!) until we can get past the first of the year and, perhaps, get back to enjoying ourselves.  Some of us enjoy the holidays so much, we want to cling to that point in time and never want it to end.  And God just wants us to be happy.  So God has set out these times in our lives so that we can understand that God is present in all of those times – good and bad.  And if we can’t find anything else to be happy about in the midst of those times, then we must be absolutely joyful over the fact that God is with us and has always been with us and will always be with us.  Emmanuel.

And just as God has laid out for Jewish and Christian thinkers in the First Testament this resolution, this intention for us in terms of time and happiness, God has, in the very last book of the Second or New Testament, given us not only the words to help us resolve to be happy, but the words to ensure that we are happy.  There is a time coming – a time that we can know as human beings (that is, chronological time) and a time of kairos – a time coming when human time and God’s time will coincide in a way that we can see and measure and know the happiness that God not only intends for us in terms of a resolution, but the absolute joy that God commits for us in terms of a never-ending law:  a time when there will be a new heaven and a new earth, a time when there will be no more death, tears, or pain.  And all that will be because God is the beginning and the end, the Alpha and Omega.
The words in Revelation create a vision for us of not only God’s intention for us right now in this moment, but the very real conclusion of God creating a time for every purpose under heaven.

Be it resolved, then, on this first day of the year of our Lord 2012, that we will find God with us at every moment of this year and hold fast to God’s commitment not just for a moment, but for eternity, to ensure that we will always be happy and enjoy ourselves our whole lives long.

Amen.

Christmas Day Meditation

John 1:1-14

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

December 25, 2011

Yes, the Gospel lesson seems to be a little obtuse for a Christmas Day.  We’re looking for something a little more concrete.  When the mid-week Bible study came upon this passage, I saw puzzlement in some eyes as I asked them what it meant to them.  And so I suggested that we begin by re-reading the scripture and substitute the word Jesus every time we came upon the term “Word.”  Let’s do that now, shall we?

“In the beginning was Jesus, and Jesus was with God, and Jesus was God. ² He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being ⁴ in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:1-5)

And the response I got was one I have heard again and again, “Why didn’t they just write it that way in the first place!  It makes so much more sense!”

On the one hand, making sense of scripture is a lot of what I’m supposed to help you do.  On the other, making sense of scripture is completely the work of the Holy Spirit and any of the rest of us are just tools for getting that done.

I am reminded of that constantly, but a week ago I was having lunch with my dear friend and colleague Pastor Paula Bremer who told me of a story she had read about the last survivor who was pulled from the rubble of the World Trade Center after 9-11-2001.  She helped me track it down and I want to share it with you because it provided for both Paula and me the most sensible, sensical, explanation of John’s writing for this Christmas Day:[1]

“She remembers a hand.

“Then a voice.

“His name was Paul. And as he reached through the dusty darkness of the rubble of the World Trade Center, wrapping one hand, then another around her outstretched hand, he asked her name.

“’Genelle,’ she said.

“’OK, Genelle, I won’t leave you,’ he replied.

“But then, as rescuers reached her and took her to a hospital, where she spent the next five weeks, Paul vanished, never to be seen or heard from again.

“’An angel,’” Genelle said.

Genelle Guzman McMillan’s head had been pinned between two pieces of concrete, her legs sandwiched by pieces of a stairway.  “Her toes had gone numb for hours.  Her right hand was pinned under her leg.  Only her left hand was free.”  And so, she reached that left arm through the rubble, reaching toward what little light she could see.

She waited with her arm outstretched. She shouted for help.  She talked and pleaded with God.  And she thinks she slept.  Slept as she lay pinned on top of the body of a dead firefighter.

“In the rubble, she remembers reaching out with her hand. And before the firefighters came and called out to her, she remembers Paul grabbing it.

“’I kept my hand out there, praying to God,’ she recalls. ‘Show me a sign. Show me a miracle. Show me that you’re out there. Show me that you are listening to me.’”

She repeated the prayer, again and again.

“’Before you knew it, someone grabbled my hand,’ she says.

“It was Paul.

“She tried to open her eyes but could not. Paul told her she would be fine.

“’Just hold on to my hand,’ she remembers him saying.

“She grabbed his hand. She remembers he was not wearing gloves – unlike the firefighter who found her. She also remembers he grabbed her hand with two hands.

“’He was holding my hand for a long time,’ she says. ‘And then other workers came and pulled me out.’”

They found her because she still had the ability to shout for help and because a rescue worker saw her hand sticking out through the rubble, reaching for the light.

In the hospital, after surgery on her leg to repair nerve damage and to close a deep cut on her left cheek, McMillan asked about Paul.

None of the rescuers remembered anyone named Paul. No one could remember anyone by that name.  No one saw him.  No one saw anyone holding her hand.

McMillan was, then, 30 years old and a single mom.  She was engaged to be married.  She did, indeed, marry, and now has a stepson in addition to her own daughter and the couple has a child of their own.

It was in reaching for the light that McMillan was saved.

So hear, once again, the words of the Scripture:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was in the beginning with God.  All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:1-5)

On this Christmas day, let us reach for the light and continue to reach for the light every day of the rest of our lives.  Jesus came into our world as a human being, comes into our world to light the way for us.  Jesus is the light in our darkness and the darkness does not overcome him.

Amen.

Christmas Eve Meditation

Luke 2:1-20

First Presbyterian Church, Lodi, WI

Rev. Gretchen Lord Anderson

December 24, 2011

If I had decided to give a title to this little Christmas Eve meditation, I would have stolen one from one of my favorite authors, Charles Dickens.  “Great Expectations,” it would be, for what evening and day of the entire year holds such great expectations for us?  While we are born without any expectations at all, we learn early on to expect many things in our lives – we learn to depend upon our parents for love and food and clothing.  We learn to expect the certainties of life like the sun rising and setting and rising again the next day.  And we learn to expect gifts at Christmas and Santa Claus coming to visit.  Yes, we have great expectations about life because most of those expectations are logical and rational and experiential.

But, inevitably, our expectations are tied to hope.  And when the gifts are not as lavish as we thought they should be or they don’t live up to what we expected, our hopes begin to be dashed.  When family and friends disappoint us because they didn’t show up on time or decided to leave early or didn’t show up at all, our expectations and our hopes which were tied together are dashed.  As we grow older, we continue to tie our hopes and our expectations together, but too often we find ourselves lowering the bar because logic, rational thinking, and experience has taught us not to expect or hope for too much or not to expect or hope at all because, most surely, we will be disappointed.

The children just took a tour of all of these nativity sets.  Even at such a young age, they have learned to have expectations of what a nativity set is supposed to look like.  Whether they have been part of the church or Sunday School or not, most kids have some concept of what a nativity scene is all about.  You and I have those expectations too.  We have learned, right or wrong, that Joseph and Mary were shoved out into the cold with nowhere to go, that the innkeeper was mean and, perhaps, he wife meaner (and she’s not even mentioned in scripture).  But we have expectations of what the nativity was like based not so much on reality, but on what other people’s imaginations have cooked up for us.

The problem with expectations is that they take all of the mystery out of life and out of Christmas.  When we expect certain actions and reactions from those around us, we also are not open to watching for the unexpected, not flexible enough to accommodate surprise, disappointed when things don’t go our way, dismissive of improbable or impossible outcomes.

And, so, at some point in our lives, as we try our hardest to hold on to the hope and great expectations we had as children and can now witness in these children, we also come to the incorrect conclusion that Christmas is just for children and we live the holiday vicariously through them.

But writer Max Lucado says, “In the mystery of Christmas, we find its majesty.  The mystery of how God became flesh, why he chose to come, and how much he must love his people.

“Such mysteries can never be solved, just as love can never be diagrammed.  Christmas is best pondered, not with logic, but imagination.”[1]

And remember the scripture?  After the baby was born, the shepherds had come and gone, “Mary pondered all of these things in her heart.”  None of this could possibly have seemed logical to Mary.  And while the Jewish traditions did not leave much room for imagination, Mary and Joseph began to set aside the expectations that were tied to the traditions with which they were familiar and began to separate those expectations from hope – the hope that they had come to know could only come from God.  For God shattered all expectations by coming to earth as a helpless, vulnerable human being.

Elsewhere in the New Testament the importance of mystery is emphasized by the Apostle Paul:  “Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:24-25)

We have great expectations because we can see those presents under the tree and we know there is something in at least one of them for each of us.  But that is not hope.  Those are great expectations.

Our hope in Christmas is not tied to a nativity scene that was conjured up for us as children.  Our hope in Christmas is not tied to the beauty of the Christmas tree or even the elegance of music.

Our hope is all tied up (or should be) in the mystery of what God has done by coming to earth to be with us; our hope is tied completely to wonder.  Eugene Peterson says, “The wonder keeps us open-eyed, expectant, alive to life that is always more than we can account for, that always exceeds our calculations, that is always beyond anything we can make.”[2]

“Nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1:37)

Yes, look at the decorations and the candlelight and listen to the music with the eyes and the ears of a child, but do not pass that mystery off as something just for a child.  Be expectant not for material goodness or for the reliability of humanity, but have great expectations, great hope for that which we do not expect and for that which is a mystery to us:

“For a child has been born for us,

a son given to us;

authority rests upon his shoulders;

and he is named

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”  (Isaiah 9:6)

Amen.