2017 - A New Year

Many of my friends are calling 2016 "The worst year ever!" Maybe a bit of an overstatement. Most of them are saying this as yet another popular person died. Wham! lead singer George Michael, Star Wars hero Carrie Fisher, not to forget Alan Rickman or Prince and our little buddy Bob Denver. So, many!

Yet, others, more humble, have died this year as well. They will die with no fanfare from the media. No "shoutout" from fawning fans on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. They will die peacefully, maybe with their family around them. Hopefully the prayers of the church whispered in their ear. The end of 2016 will be a hard one for many families. And to start 2017 without their gracious presence will be difficult as well.

What will the new year bring? There are several things I can promise you will be in the next year: all the things that were in 2016. I do not say this to be pessimistic. Because there were many things that were wonderful in 2016 for a good many of us. Laughter. I laughed a lot in 2016 and hope to do so in 2017. Babies. There will be babies born in 2017 just like in 2016. New friendships, good food, etc. All of this will come to us in the New Year as well.

As Christians, and especially Lutheran Christians, we take pride in the fact that our faith is stronger than our fears. That our trust in God is such that the constant struggle of this life is always placed at the foot of the manger. We know that our God, through the gift of his Son, has chosen love over hate. That our God, has chosen life over death. 

As we look forward to a new year we should not be surprised at what the world will throw at us, the good and the bad. What we should anticipate is the little miracles that will come. The smile from a stranger, the hug of a child, the sun warming your face, and so many common events that we should never take for granted.

My prayer for all of you is that God will help you in opening your eyes to the miracle of the ordinary so that you may discover the strength and the power to stand up to protect the ordinarily vulnerable in our midst. May God's peace, which passes all understanding, be in your hearts and minds now and always.

The cattle are lowing

The poor baby wakes

But little Lord Jesus

No Crying he makes.

I love thee Lord Jesus

Look down from the sky

And stay by my cradle

'Til morning is nigh.

2016 Christmas Eve Sermon

(Thanks to Rev. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Rev. Alisa Lasater Wailoo and Rev. Karoline Lewis)

(begin by lighting a candle from the Advent Wreathe and hold up)

Grace and peace, to you (yes, you), from God who became one of us to show us how grace and peace can change the world. Amen.

The world is burning. We know this. From trucks plowing through crowds buying Christmas gifts to bombs falling on hospitals to young men shooting people while they pray, we know this.

The world is burning.

When it was time to birth our Lord, when Mary laid down on her back, pulled her knees up and groaned in pain the world was burning then, too. Young men were hung on crosses for minor crimes, nations were being toppled and peoples were being enslaved. All the world seemed dark and all seemed lost.

Yet, God incarnate broke from the darkness of Mary’s womb out into the world to be the light that no darkness could overcome. It is no coincidence that Jesus was born in the desert, in the dark night.

This night we have come together to sing into the night a cool word of hope that will stop the burning. We have come together to pray and lift up all those whose hope is lost, that we may be that hope to them. We have come together this night to hear the story again, the story that has changed us, has molded us, has urged us to be good news in a world that needs goodness. We have come together this night around the table of fellowship to eat and drink and be filled again with the embodiment of love. This love nourishing our souls, this love encouraging our thirst for righteousness. This love that came into the world just like you.

As Joseph’s first born son burst into this world, Mary screamed out, as all mothers have over millennia, her hope and love for this child. As that child was swaddled and placed at Mary’s breast, our God drank the milk of love and hope and Mary sang her love song to him. The love song that became the work of her Son.

God chose to become one of us to show us that this world matters, that our bodies matter. God became embodied to remind us that other bodies matter. God broke into our world to teach us that what God created matters. That you matter. That we all matter. Not one of us, Jew, Muslim, Atheist, black, white, native, immigrant, poor, lost, homeless, addicted, grieving, or whomever is outside of this love of God. 

To say otherwise is to speak against the Holy Spirit.

You see this night is about God becoming one of us. And the question must be asked, what is our response? What is the right response to this love being poured out upon us all?

(Begin walking down aisle lighting parishioner's candles)

Part of the answer lies in this story itself. Was God born in the world’s best state of the art hospital? Was God brought into this world in a sanitary, white room, free from virus or bacteria? Was God born to a powerful family? To a rich family?

No God came into the world in a small house full of noise and people and animals, and dirty straw. God came into the world to an unwed mother and a poor family that had no power, no influence. This is how God chose to change the world.

And our response? As Bonhoeffer wrote: Whoever finally lays down all power, all honor, all reputation, all vanity, all arrogance, all individualism beside the manger celebrates correctly this Christmas gift.

(Begin turning down lights)

This world needs all of you to lay down your power, your honor, your reputation, your vanity, your arrogance, your individualism, right here beside the manger, so that we might stop the burning and be the light in the still, silent night.

(Silent Night is sung)