​First Congregational Church
March 10, 2019
First Sunday in Lent
Luke 4:1-13
“Trust and Certainty”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

When the doctor asked Ole about what he did yesterday, Ole told him. "Well, yesterday afternoon, I waded across the edge of a lake, escaped from a mountain lion in the heavy brush, marched up and down a mountain, stood in a patch of poison ivy, crawled out of quicksand, and jumped away from an aggressive rattlesnake.” Inspired by the story, the doctor said, "You must be an awesome outdoorsman!” “No," Ole said. "I'm just a bad golfer.”

Two new deer hunters decided to separate to increases their chances. “What if we get lost?” says one of them. “Fire three shots up in the air, every hour on the hour” says the other. “I saw it on TV.” Sure enough, one of the hunters gets lost, so he fires three shots up into the air every hour on the hour. The next day the other hunter finds his friend with the help of the Forest Ranger. “Why didn’t you do what I said?” asked the hunter. “I did! I fired three shots up into the air every hour on the hour, until I ran out of arrows.”

Over the last weeks, based on the lectionary passages, Jesus has been preaching on a plain, a mountain, and today we find him with some alone time in the wilderness. This place is often interpreted to be a desert, but our passage today uses the word “wilderness.” 

Either word works, even though they relate to different aspects of life. Desert tends to denote a barren, lifeless place while a wilderness is perhaps more chaotic with lifeforms of different sorts. Deserts are generally thought of more in terms of heat while wildernesses can definitely be cold and hot. Potatoes, potatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes, Jesus was, for once, not surrounded by the curious and followers. 

Luke 4:1-13  Jesus Is Tested in the Wilderness
4 Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, 2 where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.
3 The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.”
4 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone.’”
5 The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6 And he said to him, “I will give you all their authority and splendor; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. 7 If you worship me, it will all be yours.”
8 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”
9 The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down from here.10 For it is written: “‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; 11 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”
12 Jesus answered, “It is said: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
13 When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time.

Thank you, Jennie. There is a guy named David Schnasa Jacobsen, who is Professor of the Practice of Homiletics and Director of the Homiletical Theology Project at Boston University School of Theology. That’s a really big title, but it would seem to fit, because this guy had a really interesting insight to this passage. He commented that having this passage on this Sunday - the first Sunday in Lent - can be tempting to imply that it is a passage about us - fasting for forty days and all that. Professor Jacobsen’s point is that it is really about God and Jesus.

It’s not about abstaining from eating, coffee or chocolate for Lent, and heaven knows what Good News that is! Professor Jacobsen pointed out that although three of the four gospels include this desert wilderness retreat, Luke is the gospel that paints it as a passage about Jesus’ unique vocation as Spirit-anointed Son of God. 

That insight makes sense. The passage begins with the Holy Spirit filling Jesus and leading him. In all of the temptations, Jesus deflected not to himself, but to God. All of Jesus’ responses to temptation were quotes from the book of Deuteronomy, the Old Testament book that documents the forty year wandering in another desert. The big temptations there were for people to become bored with manna hotdish, manna pot pie, manna on a shingle, manna primavera and manna crumble. In other words, the temptations were about the humans, not about God, Christ or the Holy Spirit.

Going back to Professor Jacobsen’s point, what does Jesus’ unique vocation as the Spirit-anointed Son of God mean to us? What does Jesus’ job as a member of the Trinity mean for us everyday people?

Earlier in Luke, Jesus pointed out two things: that 1. he is the Son of God and 2. that he came to proclaim freedom for prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Symbolically, as a son, Christ is the bodily representative of the One who gave him life. In the Old Testament, kings were sometimes called God’s son, to mean that they were God’s earthly representative to the people. So Christ’s job was to serve as God’s representative, releasing from bondage those bound with burdens, insight into truth and justice and to help us understand what our next life will be like. But most of us already get that - to one degree or another. 

A few moments ago, I alluded to temptations fitting the individual. Twice Jesus was tempted with the words, “If you are the Son of God….” If you think about it a minute, that Son of God reference to Jesus hearkens back to Jesus’ baptism, when God said, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” This whole temptation scenario is to find out if the voice from heaven was telling the truth about Jesus’ identity or not. 

Most of us, being smart enough not to liken ourselves to God, won’t be tempted in the way Jesus was tempted. But we will be tempted. None of us are going to be tempted to provide food in abundance, to rule over kingdoms or give undeniable proof of identity through spectacular spiritual feats. I don’t know about all of you, but that’s a small load off one’s mind. 

In like manner, none of us will give the world something better than those things. None of us will be able to do what Jesus could, can and has done: giving himself in all of his truth, God with us, not as we might like God to be, but as God really is. 

From time to time we all have doubts, uncertainties about the reality and truth of the Christian faith. Jesus’ temptations are all related to certainty. Proof. Facts. Undeniable, irrefutable evidence. If Christ had not been tempted, then you and I, in our testing, could never have said, “Well, I’m being tested, and that’s okay because Jesus was tested, too.” 

And here’s a golden oldie: note that to every test, every tempting offer, Jesus said, “No.” He refused to perform these spectacular spiritual tricks, these undeniable miracles to prove who he was. Instead, Jesus gives us something better. He gives us himself, physically present among us, a human being who is divinely able to resist the wiles of evil and temptation. He gives us something better than certainty. He offers us his love.

C.S. Lewis once said “only the person who never yielded to temptation knows the full strength of temptation.” If a hurricane roars ashore somewhere, which person will be in the best position to talk about the strength of the wind: the one who was blown over immediately, the one who managed to stay on his feet until the wind hit 75 MPH, or the one who never was blown over, not even when the wind topped out at 130 MPH. Obviously the one who was able to resist the storm’s fullest fury is the one who knows better than anyone what all it took to stay on his feet. So also with temptation: Jesus never wavered. When temptation threw everything it had at Jesus, took all its best shots, Jesus never fell. 

We aren’t going to be tempted with transforming stone into bread, jumping off buildings for power or tempting fate. But we will be tempted with the little things in our lives, all the little compromises that take us farther from the goal of finishing our races well. 

I can hear some brains wondering, “So what, Ms. Miraculous Elocutor of Truth and Knowledge?” To which she replies: When we are sitting in the doctor’s office, wondering about all the various outcomes of the upcoming appointment, we can also realize that Christ sits in one of the empty chairs with us, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, will go with us through whatever to the very end - and beyond. 

When we wonder how and if we are going to get through the situation with the family member or friend, we can rest on the understanding that even should we fully display our humanity and fail to meet our targets of loyalty and compassion, Christ doesn’t. Christ will remain faithful, courageous, obedient and steadfast, no matter what. 

When that person has had one thing after another fall into their laps like cement blocks, we can also remember that Jesus’ temptation didn’t simply go away that day. Luke reminds us that Satan slinked away until a more opportune time. Some forty days later, when Jesus was hanging on the cross, the crowd tempted Jesus, “If you are God’s Son,” the crowd said, “then act like it. Throw yourself down from the cross.” But Jesus doesn’t submit to human demand for certainty. He just hangs there in agony. He looks down from the cross and says, “Sisters and brothers, I love you still.”

A question of implication: Are you able to bet your life as a matter of trust rather than a matter of certainty? For such an answer we most certainly make our best calculations with prayer. 

Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer, we confess that the power to make things as we wish them is overwhelming. Turning stones into bread could lead to so many good things. But we renounce our hunger for power and that your love alone is our power. We confess that we sometimes want, more than anything, to manage what others think of us, wanting authority, the kingdoms of the world. We renounce our hunger for status and that you alone are our belonging. We confess that we want the security of freedom from pain, risk and sacrifice, as if we could leap from a height and be unhurt. But we renounce our fear of suffering, because you alone are our security. God, we sometimes wonder if faith’s claims about Jesus can be trusted. But we ask that your Spirit of love be our power, our security and our belonging, that the fears of our egos and desires may be re-directed to trust you more, belong to you more surely, and bear your love more surely. Thank you for your truths, that give us much appreciated certainty, as we breathe in that love, through your Son and the power of your Holy Spirit. And all your people say, Amen. 

​First Congregational Church
February 24, 2019
Seventh Sunday after Epiphany
Luke 6:27-38
“So Much More”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

A woman is sitting at her husband's funeral listening to the eulogies being read...
A man in the pew behind her leans forward to ask, "Do you mind if I say a word?”. "No, not at all", she replies. The man stands and clears his throat. “Bargain", he says, and sits back down. "Thank you", the woman responds, "it means a great deal."

This morning’s scripture passage continues where we left off last week, the passage from Luke 6 known as Jesus’ Blessings and Woes Sermon or the Sermon on the Plain, verses the Sermon on the Mount. In the middle of his sermon, Jesus says, “But to you who are listening I say…” That statement makes you wonder if Jesus was aware of some people that were daydreaming, getting restless or even falling asleep. 

Hearing weather reports for the last couple of days, and not being at all sure what this morning would bring, I figured that rather than assigning one person to read the passage, I thought we all might do just that - together. After all, what better way to help all of us listen better? So if you will take out the bulletin insert, let us read. 

Luke 6:27-38
27 “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. 30 Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.

32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. 35 But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

Judging Others
37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38 Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

Thank you, everyone. Last night I came across a Facebook meme that smacked me right between the eyes. It said, “I thought that I was a good person but the way I react when people drive slowly in the left lane would suggest otherwise. Sometimes truth can really sting!

A cell phone in an upscale gym locker room in NYC rang and the man turned on the speaker phone next to him. Everyone else in the room stopped to listen.” Hello? Hi honey, it’s me. Are you at the club?” The man said, “Yes,” and the woman said, “I’m out shopping and found a beautiful leather coat. It’s only $2,000 – is it OK if I buy it?” The man said, “Sure, go ahead if you like it that much.” She continued, “I also stopped by that new Lexus dealership and saw one of the new models I really like – it’s on an opening special.” He said, “How much?” She said, “$90,000.” He said, “Wow! OK, but for that price I want it with all the options.” She said, “Great! Oh, and one more thing … I was just talking to my sister and found out that the house we wanted to buy last year is back on the market. They’re asking $980,000 for it. Remember it was well over a million when we looked at it?” The man said, “I dunno. Make an offer for $900,000 and they’ll probably take it. If not, we can go the extra $80,000 if that’s what you really want.” The woman said, “OK. I’ll see you later! I love you so much!” The man ended by saying, “I love you, too,” and then he hung up. The other men in the locker room were staring at him in astonishment, mouths wide open. The man turned around and said “Anyone know whose phone this is”?

At first glance, the passage from Luke 6 can read like a list of rules for being a Christian. And as good as it is to love enemies, to pray for those who mistreat us and help those in need, the passage is actually far more than rules and behaviors. 

That’s “good news” for people who question a passage that can seem to make such gracious givers and helpers into a bunch of chumps. Scott Hoezee of Calvin Theological Seminary is not the only one to voice the question, “Won’t we become the world’s doormat if we assume as passive a posture in the face of abuse as Jesus seems to suggest?” I would venture to guess that there are a good number of folks here this morning that share such a thought and question. In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus sent out the twelve disciples to do ministry, telling them to be “shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.” The commission is as much for us as for the disciples. But the passage is more than a set of rules, especially rules for the sake of rules.

Jesus points out, near the end of the second paragraph, that if we are kind and prayerful and generous, even loving the hard to love, “Then your reward will be great.” Yay! After you clean up your room, you can have a treat! After shoveling snow all morning, you get to take the afternoon off! We can stop there, with just that much reasoning, and we’re on par with any behavior modification program you want to imagine. But it’s only a one-sided, or human-to-human program, and Jesus has a bigger message to impart. There is much more to Jesus’ sermon, more for even us modern followers.  

For doing these things, loving and giving and praying and turning cheeks, we will get great rewards, but - we will also be children of the Most High. Being known as a member of a group of individuals is an important thing for most of us. Being a member of the Daughters or Sons of the American Revolution, or a Mason or Eastern Star, PEO or the Wednesday Morning Book Club are important parts of identity for some people. Those are all worthy enough groups in and of themselves. But they can also become exclusive and restrictive. Being exclusive and restrictive is not necessarily a bad thing - unless it is attached to God and Christ and the Holy Spirit. That’s why we have the entirety of that sentence: “Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.”

It is retired Methodist minister, William H. Willimon who receives the credit for making the point that “this sermon by Jesus is not first of all a list of human rules. The sermon is based on a claim about who God is and how God acts.” 

I’m guessing that even the great Mother Teresa and Saint Francis would look back on their lives and recall moments where they were ungrateful, perhaps even wicked - at least in their own eyes. We all do things that are less than gracious and loving in our lives, and yet, God is kind to us. Each of us have - on purpose and innocently - excluded and looked past, been condescending and hurtful, and God has been merciful to us in forgiving us when we ask to be forgiven. 

Scott Hoezee put it so pointedly. Jesus is recommending no more and no less than the same thing he’d seen all along in God. As the Son of God himself, Jesus is speaking from divine experience. When you are the Creator God of the entire cosmos, you sooner or later get used to seeing people snarfing up and consuming all the bounty of your creative imagination, yet without even once giving a sidelong glance back to the Giver of all that good food, good wine, and good everything. Seeing ungrateful people is a commonplace for God. God has spent altogether too much time watching delicate creatures fashioned in God’s own image strutting around this world and fancying themselves to be “self-made people.” God has witnessed altogether too many people sighing over the glories of a crimson sunset only to see those same people marveling at how this whole big and beautiful world of ours just happened to evolve all on its own.”

Ole showed up at church with two red cheeks and a black eye. Sven asked him how it happened. Vell, Torvo and I were having a discussion about which was better. I said lutefisk is better with butter, and Torvo said it was better with cream sauce, and he slapped me. Sven said, Vell, that explains one red cheek. How’d you get the other red cheek and the black eye?” Ole said Vell, I turned both cheeks, he slapped them both, and since I was fresh out of cheeks to turn, I slugged him and he slugged me back.”

It makes obvious sense to be wise with our blessings. Being so wise, we’ve been able to assist somewhere around a hundred kids to attend camp - in the time I’ve been here. And that’s just a whopping guess. We’ve been able to support 35 families of four to make a visit to Benzie Area Christian neighbors for food, we’ve allowed for three families to obtain complete sets of tires to remain employed and transport children, filled five household propane tanks and purchased home weatherization kits for ten households, reducing their heating bills up to 25%. And those are things that people with generosity-like hearts do, too.

Loving and doing good to enemies, or at the very least - those hard for us to love - blessing mis-treators, withholding judgment and condemnation, those things are much more costly to us as individuals, and therefore, more “pressed down, shaken together, running over and poured into your lap.” Doing so in response to God’s kindness and mercy is perhaps a little easier, but make no mistake, we don’t do any of this on our own or with our own steam. So let us recommit our hearts and efforts and enter into the power that allows us to be movers and shakers of the God of So Much More.

Kind, Gracious and Loving God, thank you for your Son, for his wisdom, his love and his desire for all of your children to live in your kingdom - the son who died to make your love known. Forgive us, Lord, when we dismiss your demands as impossible expectations. Forgive us when we set our own bar too low, when we let ourselves off the hook too easily. May we remember always the mystery that those we consider enemy and our own selves are one; for all are one in you. Help us, when we are tired, cranky, sick, or just uninspired to love generously, graciously, over-flowingly. May we see those who are cruel, as your beloved children, especially in need of your love. Help us to discern the difference between injustice and personhood. Help us to do so by tapping into your love, that has no limit, no parameters and no exclusions. Give us the courage to turn the other cheek, the creativity to give away our coats of protection, and to lend with the knowledge that nothing we have is ours, except our souls - that all we have is yours and we are merely caretakers of such richness and blessing. And then allow us to see how you provide, if even in the strangest and goofiest of manners. For all with which you have blessed us, and all you empower us to share, all your people say, Amen.

​First Congregational Church
February 17, 2019
6th Sunday after Epiphany
Luke 6:17-26
“While You Are…”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

Early on in his career, according to Luke, just as it seemed that Jesus was transitioning from his life as a carpenter to that of a rabbi, healer and Messiah, there were a number of people following Jesus, and one day he appointed twelve of those followers to become his disciples. It was immediately after choosing the disciples that Jesus gave his Blessing and Woes sermon. 

Luke 6:17-26  Blessings and Woes
17 He went down with them and stood on a level place. A large crowd of his disciples was there and a great number of people from all over Judea, from Jerusalem, and from the coastal region around Tyre and Sidon, 18 who had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases. Those troubled by impure spirits were cured, 19 and the people all tried to touch him, because power was coming from him and healing them all.

20 Looking at his disciples, he said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. 21 Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. 22 Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. 23 “Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.

24 “But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. 25  Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. 26 Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

Thank you, Robin. There’s definitely some interesting stuff around this passage. Why did Luke point out that Jesus stood on a level place? I, for one, would love to have seen how the power was coming out from Jesus - if it was anything one might actually be able to see. It’s fine that Jesus “bestows” these blessings on people, but since martyrdom awards are not worth what they once were, how does one actually make it through the times of hungering and weeping and rejection and, say, even sheer boredom? And if we’ve already been so blessed, then why bother trying to move forward? At the end of the day, what is left - in terms or striving and pressing on?

I came across a passage in my current nighttime reading book that seemed to paint a picture that may be helpful in seeing how blessings and woes go from the focal point to faithful companions. The book is Cathedral of the Sea, by Ildefonso Falcones - purported to be the new Ken Follett. 

The story takes place in fourteenth century Barcelona, and tells the story of Arnau, who is fourteen years old in this particular passage. His father and mother are both gone, and he has to begin fending for himself in the world. It ends up that he is asked to become a bastaix (bash tash’), one who carries freight on and off ships - on their backs. The bastaixios were a revered guild, because they were the ones who also brought stones for the building of the new cathedral in Santa Maria on their days off. 

“One bastaix, one stone,” Arnau repeated to himself when the first man and the first stone came past him on their way down the mountain. He and his friend, Ramon, had reached the spot where the stonecutters were cutting the huge blocks. He looked at his companion’s taut, tense face. Arnau smiled, but his fellow bastaix did not respond: the time for jokes and pleasantries was over. Nobody was laughing or talking now; they were all staring at the heap of stones on the ground. They all had the leather thongs fixed tightly round their foreheads; Arnau slipped his over his head. 

As Arnau stared at the stones, he could feel his stomach wrench. A bastaix bent over, and two other laborers lifted a block of stone onto his back. The man stood still for a few moments, straightened up, then walked past Arnau on his way back down to the city of Santa Maria. My God, he was three times as strong as Arnau, and yet his legs had almost given way! How was he going to…? “Arnau,” called out the guild alderman.  There were still a few other bastaixos waiting. Ramon pushed him forward. “You can do it,” he said.

As three aldermen and one of the stonecutters determined the stone he would carry, Arnau tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He was shaking: he had to stop! He moved his hands, then extended his arms backward and forward. He could not allow them to see his fear or trembling!
Seeing two masons approaching with the stone, Arnau went up to them. He bent over and tensed all the muscles in his body. Everyone fell silent. The masons slowly let go of the block and helped him grasp it with his hands. As the weight pressed down on him, he bent still farther over, and his legs started to buckle. He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes. “You can do it!” he thought he heard. In fact, nobody had said a word, but everyone had said to themselves when they saw the boy’s legs wobble. “You can do it!” Arnau straightened under the load. A lot of the others gave a sigh of relief. But could he walk? Arnau stood there, his eyes still closed. Could he walk?

He put one foot forward. The weight of the block of stone forced him to push out the other foot, then the first one again…and the other one a second time. If he stopped…if he stopped, the stone would crush him. 

Ramon took a deep breath and covered his face with his hand. “You can do it, lad!” one of the others who were waiting shouted. “Go on, brave, heart.” “You can do it!” “For Santa Maria!” 

The shouting echoed off the walls of the quarry and accompanied Arnau as he set off on his own down the path to the city. But he was not alone. All the bastaixos who set off after him soon caught up and made sure that they fell in with him for a few minutes, encouraging him and helping him on his way. As soon as another one reached them, the first would continue at his own pace. 

Arnau could hardly hear what they said. He could scarcely even think. All his attention was on the foot that had to come from behind, and once he saw it moving forward and touching the ground under him, he concentrated on the other one; one foot after the other, overcoming the pain. 

As he crossed the gardens of San Bertran, his feet seemed to take an eternity to appear. By now, all the other basaixos had overtaken him, but eventually, he rested the stone on one of the lower branches of a tree; he knew that if he left it on the ground, he would never be able to raise it again. His legs were stiff as boards. 

“If you stop,” Ramon had advised him, “make sure your legs don’t go completely stiff. If they do, you won’t be able to carry on.”

So Arnau, freed from at least part of the weight, continued to move his legs. He took deep breaths. Once, twice, many times. “The Virgin will take part of the weight,” Ramon had told him. My God! If that was true, how much did his stone weigh? He did not dare move his back, even though it hurt terribly. He rested for a good while. Would he be able to continue again? Arnau looked all around him, but he seemed to be completely alone. 

Could he do it? He stared up into the sky. He listened to the silence, then with one pull managed to lift the block of stone again. His feet began to move. First one, then the other, one, then the other…
Eventually, he stopped again, this time resting the stone on the ledge of a huge rock. The first basaixos reappeared, on their way back to the quarry. Nobody spoke, merely exchanging glances. Arnau gritted his teeth once more and lifted the stone again. Some of the bastaixos nodded their approval, but none of them halted. “It’s his challenge,” one of them would comment later, when Arnau was out of earshot and he turned to look at the boy’s painful progress. “He has to do it on his own,” another man agreed.

Eventually, Arnau came across the first inhabitants of Barcelona. All his attention was still on his feet, but he was in the city! Sailors, fishermen, women and children, men from the boatyards, and shop’s carpenters all stared in silence at the boy bent double under the stone, his face sweaty and mottled from the effort. They looked at the feet of this youthful bastaix, and he could see nothing else. Everyone was silently willing him on: one foot, then the other, one after the other…

Some of them fell in behind him, still without saying a word. After more than two hours’ effort, Arnau finally arrived at Santa Maria accompanied by a small, silent crowd. Work on the church came to a halt. The workmen stood at the edge of the scaffolding. Carpenters and stonemasons put down their tools.

“Keep going!” a boatman’s son shouted. “You’re there! You’ve made it! Come on, you can do it!”

Shouts of encouragement came from the highest scaffolding. The crowd that had followed Arnau though the city cheered and applauded. All Santa Maria joined in, even the priest. Yet Arnau still stared down at his feet; one, then the other, one, the other…all the way to the area where the stones were stored. As he reached it, apprentices and craftsmen rushed to receive the block the boy had carried.

Only then did Arnau look up. He was still bent double, and his body was shaking all over, but he smiled. People crowded all around to congratulate him. Arnau found it hard to tell who they all were: the only one he recognized was Father Albert. The Father was staring in the direction of Las Moreres cemetery when Arnau followed his gaze. “For you, Papa,” he whispered.” 

I’ve often wondered how I could give encouragement to those going through hard times, encouragement that wasn’t sanguine or lip-service. Any one of us can pray, and that is definitely and truly good. But for those going through the darkness, it can feel isolating, lonely and unbearable. Except that is only the feeling and not the truth. 

I sometimes hear people wonder why it seems that God is targeting an individual for some unknown and cruel reason. That, too, is not a correct understanding. Even when it seemed that Arnau was completely alone, the others doing their jobs were near, but perhaps not near enough that he could see them with his head bent parallel to the ground. Perhaps that is why Luke mentioned that flat ground where Jesus was standing - so that people would know that God is not looking down on us, but with us, even when it makes little sense. 

It's not that it's great to be poor. Or hungry or mourning. But it is that that blessing comes from God, not from wealth or satisfaction or happiness. It’s not that those who are at ease now will be punished later, but that ease is not life, and if that's what you seek, sooner or later you will mourn what you missed. So don't miss it by trying to avoid the very thing you have to go through, because no one else can live our lives for us. 

And while any one of us goes through that thing or things that we have to go through, may we be reminded that we can choose how we walk those paths - with integrity to the call, respect toward the task, and giving of the glory to the very God who has seen each of us - throughout all of time - as dearly beloved and worthy of God’s presence as we make our journeys. So let us pray.

Gracious, Eternal God, for you, it is easy to see the goal. And that can be helpful to know when we struggle to see our next step. But for those times when we are bent down to ridicule and insignificance and distractions, we ask for your forgiveness, as well as your guidance to refocus and recommit ourselves to the tasks you have for us. While we prefer not to hear the woes of life, help us to embrace their lessons, just as heartily as we embrace the lessons of blessings. For the fullness of life that you have always seen for each of us, all your people say, Amen.

​First Congregational Church
February 3, 2019
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, Communion Sunday
1 Corinthians 13
“If You Love…”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

Sven was talking to his sweetheart the other day, and he said, "Freja, on this Valentine's Day, I want to tell you something... I'm not rich like Jack. I don't have a mansion like Russell. I don't have a Porsche like Martin. But I do love you and I want to marry you."
Freja replied, "Oh, Sven, I love you too! What was that you said about Martin?"

This morning’s scripture passage surely falls into the Top Ten Bible Favorites of all Time list. Well, at least since the first century A.D. It can easily stand alone, but it seems even better when the last verse of the previous chapter is added. “And I will show you - a still more excellent way.” 

1 Corinthians 13 
13 If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Thank you, Cheryl. It is highly tempting to - sometime - read that passage at the beginning of the sermon portion of worship and then sit down - for all 15-20 minutes - in silence. There is so much to capture one’s attention and thoughts - and I don’t know that most any of those thoughts or attentions would necessarily be called “bad.” At least for today, I would feel badly about doing that; cheating you all of “a still more excellent way.” 

If you ever wanted to see patient love in action, kind love, humble love and honest love, get yourself to a fifth grade basketball game. In fact I know that there will be such a game Saturday, February 16 at Benzie Central High School, and since it’s free, and there will be nothing good on tv at 10:35 a.m., there are few reasons to miss this golden opportunity. 

You will see basketball plays and moves that you will not see in older players. You will see referring and coaching that is selfless and noble and even altruistic. And you will be reminded again of what it is to be part of a child’s village upbringing. More than that, you will be doing what the writer of Corinthians, the great Paul, is encouraging all of us to do - being the people of God and Christ’s church. 

This passage can sometimes be misread. Between the lines, we get an idea of what Corinth was like back in Paul’s day; just think opposites of the bullet points about patience and kindness and such. But it is not a list of spiritual gifts. It is a job description - of how not to be a Corinthian.

If you love you will not be arrogant. If you love you will not be rude. If you love you will be a partner for the kingdom of God and not insist on your own way. If you love you will not be irritable. If you love you will not be resentful. If you love you will not rejoice in the failings of others but you will rejoice in their best nature and their successes. If you love you will be strong and have forbearance.  If you love, belief will come, hope will happen, and you will endure.

This is hard medicine because the key ailment of Corinthianitis is that we don't want to love the ones that are hard to love. We only really want to love the ones that are easy to love. Deep beneath this reality can be the even more poignant feeling that we don't believe or feel that we are loved. 

Ole died. So Lena went to the local paper to put a notice in the obituaries. The gentleman at the counter, after offering his condolences, asked Lena what she would like to say about Ole. Lena replied, "You yust put 'Ole died'." The gentleman, somewhat perplexed, said, "That's it? Just 'Ole died?' Surely, there must be something more you'd like to say about Ole. If its money you're concerned about, the first five words are free. You must say something more." So Lena pondered for a few minutes and finally said, "O.K. You can put 'Ole died. Boat for sale.”

I get that there is potentially one person here that is reeling back from the message - or at least the passage - at this point. Love patient? Yep, been there. Love kind? Been there, too. Love not dishonoring? I have tried and tried and tried to be honorable, and what do I get in return? If it’s a good day - perhaps vitriol or anger. If it’s a typical day - nothing. 

If this passage were about becoming instantly perfect, I don’t think Paul would have included the part about one day seeing fully and clearly, rather than the foggy, tarnished glass sight we currently have. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully. It’s not immediate perfection but transformative maturation. 

If we give up the idea about this larger-than-life love, called agape love, being reciprocal, then we get closer to becoming the church Christ called us to be - the arms and feet and ears and mouth Paul talked about in the previous chapter of 1 Corinthians. While it may still seem overwhelmingly impossible, here’s the big hint behind the ability to love so largely and rightly and even elegantly. This sort of love is not sourced from us or the world. It’s source is from God. 

Whether it’s a Hallmark card or a Facebook meme, we’ve all seen pictures of little kids wearing professional adult clothing and footwear: little kids standing in the huge boots of fire fighters, peeking out from under police hats, attired in ridiculously huge lab coats and stethoscopes. Those are cute pictures, but there is a bit of “practice” in those play times, for adult jobs that are important and transformational. We do the same thing as adults, when we spiritually step into Jesus’ footprints, facing the same direction as he faces, genuinely loving from the same motivations - at least as close as we can humanly do. 

Most all of us can grasp the idea of this passage being our job description, business plan and mission statement all rolled into one. And most all of us know, all too well, that we don’t always get great scores when we do our own annual or quarterly reviews. Regardless of how well - or not well - we have loved those needing our love, how kind - or not kind - we been to those needing our love, how patient - or impatient - we’ve been to those watching our witness, we have this day to put down regrets, imperfections, burdens, Corinthianitis, that we may take up the bread of life and the cup of love. As we prepare our hearts, minds and souls to partake in our Lord’s Supper, let us also be reminded that we do any and all of this through the power of the Holy Spirit and God’s love for each of us. So shall we prepare. 

Let us pray. Beloved God, we are truly vessels of your Spirit. Empty us of all that is not your love. Flood our souls with your tender self-giving to wash away our fears and embolden our hearts. May our whole lives flow with your love: humble, powerful, gentle and strong. Strengthen us in each moment that we seek to serve and to bless,
heal and to set free all whom we meet. May this be our only work,  our strongest desire: not to be right, not to be safe, not to be approved, but to love, especially with those with whom it is hard; because it is love, your love, that saves us and makes us whole. May the love of Christ live in us with every word and every breath, as all God’s precious ones say, Amen.

​First Congregational Church
January 20, 2019
Second Sunday after Epiphany, Baptism Sunday, Human Relations Day Sunday
John 2:1-11
“Everyday Glory"
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching


Q: What did the green grape say to the purple grape? A: Breathe! Breathe!
Q: "What's purple and huge and swims in the ocean?" A: "Moby Grape."
Q: What did the grape say when he got stepped on? A: Nothing. But he let out a little whine. 

This morning we get to spend a little time with one of my favorite scripture passages, mainly because I’ve been able to remember that it’s Jesus’ first miracle. There are some folks that can memorize chapter and verse when it comes to the Bible. I’m not one of them. I used to feel guilty about that, but then I figure that I have the spiritual gift of finding bad jokes, and I feel a little better. 

Still, when I speak to our piano tuner’s wife, I can sense an opportunity for regret to revisit that guilt. Our piano tuner is blind, so his wife drives him to his jobs over here, and she’s just as sweet as can be. And she’s memorized more than one book of the New Testament - one being the book of John, if I remember correctly. The whole thing! But then I remember that bad joke finding thing, and then I’m good again - she said with tongue-in-cheek.

Back to the passage for today, there are certain pieces of information that make the reading richer. In Jesus’ day, weddings lasted for days, and based on our modern day practice, we perhaps figure that the bride’s family was responsible for most all the cost. 

Regardless of the event or non-event, the inability to provide what a guest needed was a failure in hospitality that would bring shame on host and family. That principle was so strong, that the Bible gives examples of the principle overriding normative and simple etiquette and respect - much to the shame of human behavior. 

The Bible doesn’t say it, but in Jesus’ day, it was custom for guests to bring wedding gifts in the form of food and drink to share the burden of providing for such a large group. If a family didn’t have enough wine for a wedding, it might indicate that the family wasn’t very popular or didn’t have much community support in addition to their own lack of resources.

A lot of weddings from that time were held on a Wednesday. I didn’t find any reasoning for that specific day, but during that week of celebration, rather than going on a honeymoon, the couple kept an open house, dressing in crowns and bridal robes. As commentarian William Barclay said, "In a life where there was much poverty and constant hard work, this week of festivity and joy was one of the supreme occasions.” 
 
Wine in Jesus’ day was not what wine is in our day. Not only was it a sign of joy, but it was essential part of life, simply because water was often poor. Biblical age wine was also diluted, generally two parts wine to three parts water. And drunkenness was a great disgrace, so wine was as much a part of that culture as coffee is in ours. 

It was also customary to address one’s elders with respect, most especially one’s family. Back in my seminary days, when we went over this passage, a deal was made about Jesus addressing his mother. He calls her “Woman,” rather than mother, mom or even her first name. It was thought to be a derogatory address, leading to all sorts of speculations about what Jesus - or the writer of John’s gospel - really meant. Since that time, Biblical scholars have backed off that indictment, and today it seems to be regarded as a simple address, perhaps even one with a hint of a smile behind Jesus’ words. 

John 2:1-11  Jesus Changes Water Into Wine
2 On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, 2 and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”
4 “Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”
5 His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”
6 Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.
7 Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.
8 Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”
They did so, 9 and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside 10 and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”
11 What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
 
Thank you, Cassie. After Jesus used the word, “Woman” in addressing his mother, he used the phrase, “Why do you involve me?” It was a common conversational phrase, but if it was uttered angrily and sharply it indicated complete disagreement and reproach. When it was spoken gently it indicated not so much reproach but misunderstanding. It was most likely that Jesus was simply telling Mary to leave things to him, that he would have his own way of dealing with the situation and his actions were that of a friend and faithful community member; the provision of wine a sign of shared hospitality.

The “jars” are an interesting part of our passage, too. The size may not come immediately to mind, unless you think about a burning barrel or 55 gallon drum, and estimate either half the number of “jars,” or half the size. It’s still a lot of water - that someone had to haul from point A to point B to be used in washing dusty or muddy feet and hands. 

I never really paid attention to any movies or readings about hand washing before, but apparently first the hand was held upright and the water was poured over it in such away that it ran right to the wrist; then the hand was held pointing down and the water was poured in such a way that it ran from the wrist to the finger-tips. This was done with each hand in turn; and then each palm was cleansed by rubbing it with the fist of the other hand. This practice occurred before eating and between each course. So not only was all the water in those barrels necessary, it was basically “throw away” water. And with no magic words or wand, Jesus turned it - not into Boone’s Farm, and probably not a Chateau Lafite Rothschild at the other end of the spectrum, - but at least something respectable. 

While all of this information may add some nuance and insight into our passage, there is still the “so what” aspect of it. For today, for us, a part of that “so what” is most likely overlooked, falling so near the end of the passage. The last verse says, "What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” through which revealed his glory - and belief followed. 

I wonder if we don’t think about glory in terms of angels showing up in the fields to the shepherds - complete with light and singing and all sorts of celestial show. I wonder if we don’t typically think that “glory” as the bright shining presence of God, the white-hot holiness of the divine that is so stunning, even Moses had to be hidden in the cleft of a rock to keep it from frying him to a crisp. We think that “glory” is the power of God that is so raw and so real, the priests who once entered the Holy of Holies did so at great peril (and if anyone else tried casually to enter that place where the glory of God dwelled, they would surely die).

Glory is big. Glory is bright. Glory is loud. Glory is a multi-sensory extravaganza that you will not miss if you are anywhere in glory’s neighborhood when it happens.

But John tells us that when Jesus quietly transformed water into wine, in an effort to do no more than solve a social mishap that helped a family save face in front of their friends, this was somehow Jesus’ first revelation of no less than his glory. In fact, this glorious manifestation was sufficient as to cause the disciples to put their faith into Jesus.

There is no evidence that the wider crowd at this wedding reception ever knew what had happened. Only Mary and the disciples—and the servants who had done Jesus’ bidding—realized what had happened. The bride and groom don’t even get any mention here. 

Somehow they discerned Jesus to be the Messiah, the one who would bring abundance where there had once been only scarcity. Somehow they saw in this quiet miracle in Cana an echo of all those soaring prophecies from Isaiah about how when the kingdom fully comes, all the good things we enjoy would flow freely and in never-ending abundance. When needs are met—even needs as commonplace as the one in Cana that day—somehow joy follows and that joy is related to the glory of God.

So how do we discern Jesus to be the Messiah, the one who brings abundance where there is scarcity? Do we look into the moments of miracles, even little ones, to the glory in them, to the abundance of joy in them? Iranaeus once said that “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” God desires us to flourish, to enjoy and take delight in God’s creation even as God did at the dawn of time.

This moment of glory happened in a little village, in a home, rather than the busy market or buzzing synagogue. Perhaps there is more glory to be found in our homes and gardens and workshops and offices than any of us even realize. 

There is an old legend which tells of the days when Jesus was a little baby in the home in Nazareth. It tells how in those days when people felt tired and worried and hot and bothered and upset, they would say: "Let us go and look at Mary's child," and they would go and look at Jesus, and somehow all their troubles rolled away. There was faith which could trust even when it did not understand - that Jesus would do the right thing. No need on earth can exhaust the grace of Christ; there is a glorious superabundance in it - even when reality seems contradictory to that fact. 

It will be easy to see when the hungry are fed, when the homeless are housed, when children without decent shoes get new kicks from a local clothing ministry, when the despairing are comforted by a word of hope, when the sad can dry their tears with the gospel comfort of the resurrection to come. 

It’s not so easy to see glory when the only thing inside is emptiness and loneliness or the sense of absence of God. But the glory is still there, waiting for our own discovery of it. Even though the light is lengthening just a bit lately, some folks still struggle with the darkness of heart and exhaustion of spirit, and maybe if my finances can make it to the end of the month, then - maybe - this glory thing will turn its light on me. 

I think we do better in looking for the glory before, instead of after we feel better or sense less angst. God has already forgiven and counted us as beloved. From the beginning of the beginning, God has poured God’s love into this world and our lives, and we miss some of that glory by putting it off. So let us all change that, for all of us, especially for those who are tired and sick of being sick and tired, as we pray.

Lord of Light and Joy, we confess that we are not always so good at looking for your glory in the simple and close-at-hand. And yet you offer it to us, consistently and freely. Help each of us to see your love and light and joy and blessings - not only in our lives, but in our opportunities for service to members of our family in you - both those near and those far away. Help each of us turn moaning and crying into songs of praise and hope. Give us spirits of trust and rejoicing, that we may truly be your people all of our days. Prepare us for joyful service in your world as all your people say, Amen.

​First Congregational Church
January 13, 2019
First Sunday in Epiphany
Acts 8:14-17, Luke 3:15-17, Luke 3:21-22 
“The Handiwork of God”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

After a hardy rainstorm filled all the potholes in the streets and alleys, a young mother watched her two little boys playing in the puddle through her kitchen window. The older of the two, a five-year-old lad, grabbed his sibling by the back of his head and shoved his face into the water hole. As the boy recovered and stood laughing and dripping, the mother runs to the yard in a panic.

"Why on earth did you do that to your little brother?" she says as she shook the older boy in anger. "We were just playing church mommy," he said. "And I was just baptizing him ...in the name of the Father, the Son and in...the hole-he-goes.

This is the Sunday that the church celebrates Jesus’ baptism. We are in the year C, the first Sunday after Epiphany, and that means we get two passages from Luke and one from the book of Acts. 

I included a map in the bulletin announcement page, because A: it may help with a little mental framing, B: we had the room, and C: I, for one, am fascinated at how much I have forgotten since the days when I prided myself in being a relatively good map rememberer. 

If nothing else, it can link the two locales on which our passages are based. Jesus’ baptism takes place in the Jordan River, which not only feeds into the Dead Sea, but marks the eastern border of the area known as Samaria. The actual place of his baptism is called Bethany beyond the Jordan, which is about 6 miles from the Dead Sea. 

John the Baptist had been doing his thing in this wilderness area, and people were going out to him to be baptized. As he told the crowd to share with those in need, told the tax collectors not to collect more than they were supposed to and told the soldiers he was baptizing to be content with their pay, John was also predicting Christ’s arrival. When Christ came, he would baptize not just for the forgiveness of sin, but to mark a new era, one no longer marred by brokenness, but an initiation into a community that anticipated the second coming of the Holy Spirit. 

The other reason for the inclusion of the map was so you could “remember” Samaria - a name no longer recognized by Palestine or the international community. Samaria, the area marked by the dashed lines, which bled into the area known as Judea, to the south, is mostly known today as the West Bank.

Luke 3:15-17
15 The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Messiah. 16 John answered them all, “I baptize you with[a] water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with[b] the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

Luke 3:21-22 
The Baptism and Genealogy of Jesus
21 When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened 22 and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” 

Acts 8:14-17 
14 When the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to Samaria. 15 When they arrived, they prayed for the new believers there that they might receive the Holy Spirit, 16 because the Holy Spirit had not yet come on any of them; they had simply been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. 17 Then Peter and John placed their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit.

Thank you, Pat. One of the things that is interesting about this whole baptism thing is that it isn’t done from a distance, it’s not done with a branch or a rock or any other implement that is held, but is done by hand. Whether they fully immersed people or sprinkled water on their heads, baptism involved some actual manual contact between at least two people. And it’s still done the same way today. 

Whether figuratively or in reality, the winnowing fork Jesus was to use would be “in his hand” as it says in Luke’s verse 17. In the second passage Pat just read, in his own baptism, Jesus had John’s hands doing the baptism, and in the passage from Acts, we don’t know who did the baptizing, but Peter and John laid their hands on the baptized, again utilizing these most convenient and “handy” tools. It’s also interesting that all three of these scripture passages include mention of the Holy Spirit in practically the same sentence as the word baptize. It’s hard to avoid the probability that these “coincidences” are there for a reason.

Last Sunday I attended church with my sister and the rest of the family, and the pastor used a phrase that day that I’ve heard him use before, but this time, it seemed to come across to my ears with flashing billboard lights and blinking letters. It was the phrase, “the fingerprint of God.” His message, the first of a new year, and being it was communion Sunday, focused on taking on new practices, like all good preachers are want to do on that particular Sunday. And one of the sub-points was about looking for the fingerprints of God that happen to be all over us and creation. 

Another of his sub-points was to take a look at the ways that some of us have become used to, settled into, even too accustomed to the God we have shaped in our own minds, and how looking for the fingerprints of God can be not only enlightening, but refreshing and surprising - in a good way. 

There was a boy riding on his bike outside a church.The priest saw him and told him to come into the church and the boy said,"...But they'll steal my bike."The priest explained how the Holy Spirit would take care of it, so they went inside.The priest showed the boy how to make the sign of the cross and told the boy to repeat it..."In the name of the Father, The Son…Amen" The priest said,"What about the Holy Spirit?” The boy replied, "Its outside taking care of my bike!"

I think it’s rather common for us human beings to look at baptism from our side of things. If it’s an infant, there is the right outfit - new or old - the gathering of the family and naturally, there’s food that goes with the gathering. And all that’s good. If it’s an older person, baptism is most probably about a state of a person’s heart, especially if they are wanting a ‘new identity’ in Christ, complete with a clean slate. And that’s all good, too. But when we are able to witness a baptism, how often do we think about God’s part in it, more specifically, the Holy Spirit’s part in it? And what part does the Spirit play, aside from perhaps enabling some moments for potential goosebumps? 

The passages for this morning remind us that baptism - including Jesus’ baptism - is an empowerment by the Holy Spirit toward a new world, complete with subsequent opportunities to invite others into that vision of a new world, where all who are there - are those with whom God is well-pleased - where all will be reconciled to God and therefore to one another - perfectly and completely. 

If we were to focus only on the baptism parts of these passages, we could speak to the past and to the future, but there might not be much in the “present” application. When the Holy Spirit comes into the limelight of these passages, there is a “present” component to the passages that reminds us that we are never without God, never alone, never unlovable in God’s eyes. When we include the Holy Spirit in our world view, much more is possible - in and through us.

Although Menlo Church pastor, John Ortberg gave this illustration several years ago, it still has the breath of life in it. He told a little story about canoeing in the wilderness, and how tedious and tiresome it can be to paddle a canoe all day, hour after hour, but then how it feels, when the wind picks up, to be able to grab a poncho, tie it to your paddles and make a sail, and then go flying across the lake. Ortberg’s point was that you can paddle if you want to, but it's a lot more fun to sail.

January in northern lower Michigan is not the time that we normally think about sailing, especially when we have to traverse stretches of ice - either by foot or car. Sailing can be risky, even in warm weather, because waves - like life - can surprise you. The path you thought you were going to take is suddenly not the one you are on. Sometimes you get wet sailing, even if it’s just that fine mist that makes hardly any moisture. But even the fine moisture can make you smile. Even the risk can be good when you realize that God has God’s fingerprints all over the situation. There is just no place in which God is absent. And if that knowledge doesn’t excite us, then it can at least give us an assurance that all will be well - no matter what happens. 

If there is anyone who hasn’t been baptized and would like to be, let me know, and we can certainly make that happen. If there is anyone who would like to renew their baptism, we can do that, too. For today, look for God’s handiwork - in your life, in the lives of those you love, in people of whom you may not even be fond. For this week, check in, from time to time, realizing that the Holy Spirit is with you in that moment, in each decision, each reaction and each transaction, and if you need to step up those interactions, then do so with all Godspeed. For this moment, let us pray. 

Gracious, Holy God of Spirit and Light, thank you for being the hand that guides us, even when we don’t recognize such leading. Thank you for giving us tangible practices that remind us of our connections - to you - through time and to each other. Help us to live into your handiwork, your fingerprints, that others will be drawn to you and your grace, mercy, love and joy. Forgive us when we turn away from your reaching out, from your offered hand, for whatever reason. Give each of us - and all your people - eyes with which to see your handiwork - now, this day, in the days to come, in all of eternity. For calling us beloved and touching each of our hearts, all your people thank you as we say, Amen.

​First Congregational Church
December 30, 2018
First Sunday after Christmas
Luke 2:14
“The Gift of Celebration”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

Last week we began our service with one of the oldest surviving Christmas hymns, “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” dating from the 5th century. Surely there must have been songs about Christ’s birth before 413, but they didn’t survive in ways that we recognize today. It would be interesting to find out the lyrics for some of those early Christmas hymns, because “Of the Father’s Love” speaks about Christ’s birth in a more ethereal, grandiose manner, without the details that so many of our modern hymns, carols and songs include.

It is the gospel of Luke that gives us the most detail about Jesus’ birth, and included in the opening chapters are songs by Mary and Zechariah - Jesus’ uncle. Song is the name given to their speeches, although we don’t know for certain if these words were actually sung. Perhaps it is how they were recorded by the writer of Luke that made the words seem like songs. 

Regardless, there was the “great company of the heavenly host” that appeared to the shepherds, along with the angel Gabriel who “praised God” with the words “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.” (Lu. 2:14)

After the shepherds found the holy family, they returned to their flocks “glorifying and praising God,” which if the previous “explanations” of wording is taken as true, then there could surely have been some singing from the shepherds. 

And none of that information is really worth two beans, except that it reminds us that we human beings have been singing for a long time, and hopefully, we will continue to do so in our eternal lives - at least for those who like to sing. 

This morning is the convergence of two realities: the fifth Sunday of the month, that the Worship Committee has declared to be hymn/song Sunday, and the Sunday after Christmas, which gives us room to sing the beloveds one more time before tucking them away until next year. 

May the hymns each be a message - to you, about you, for you - with phrases that pop out to lighten burdens, lift hearts and set our minds for the coming year. 

Our opening hymn was birthed in England, published first in Scribner’s Monthly magazine, about the time our church was built. Apparently, magazines were a popular means of getting music “out there.” It was the great composer, Gustav Holst, who gave us the tune and harmony that we common folks use these days. He gave the tune the name “Cranham" after the city by the same name in Gloucestershire, England. Whether there was actual snow at Christ’s birth or not, let us stand and sing the backdrop to the rest of our worship service.    

“In the Bleak Midwinter” S 76,  (do 4 verses) 
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I’m not sure how these things ever happen, well, we know that God has a certain corner on this market, but it is always interesting to see how things pan out. The next three hymns represent the international aspect of our worship, reminding us that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ. 

“O Holy Night,” or, “Cantique de Noel,” reminds us that noel means Christmas in French. In fact, a Christmas carol is sometimes called a noel in some places in the world. Then there is the word “carol,” which could either be a French word or Latin word, carula, meaning a circular dance. I believe the man’s name to be Andrew Carter, who made the distinction between Christmas hymns and carols to be about meter: carols are more often in 3/4 time while hymns are generally in four. More about the dance element later. 

“O Holy Night”                          #285, vs. 1 & 3                             
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“Silent Night” comes from Germany. Some time after the text of “Silent Night” being written, Joseph Mohr took his poem to Franz Gruber, asking him to compose a melody with guitar accompaniment. Some stories say that the organ at the church, on a particular Christmas Eve, decided to give out, so the hymn was created to save the day for the choir and Gruber as guitarist.

The other story focuses on a truce that occurred in 1914, supposedly from a decree by Pope Benedict, between British and French soldiers during World War I. The epilogue to this part of the hymn story tell us of the power of its message, that at some strips along the 500 mile trench, friendly soccer games broke out. Whatever stories are true or not quite so true, it is still one of the best loved Christmas hymns/carols/songs. 

“Silent Night”                           #253, vs. 1 & 4
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“Infant Holy, Infant Lowly” is from Poland. If we were singing it in Polish, it would likely start on the down beat. Since we are singing it in English, it starts with an upbeat. In Poland, Christmas caroling takes place between Christmas and the Feast of the Epiphany, January 6, while carrying a star on a pole and a Nativity scene. Not sure if the Nativity scene is in costume or also carried on a pole, but apparently it’s pretty festive. Because of it’s stately 3/4 time signature, some have called this tune the first polonaise or mazurka, the form that Frederick Chopin made famous. 

It’s possible that the tune of this song may date back to the 13th century, but it wasn’t until 1920 that it was translated into English by Edith Reed. Whatever it’s origins, “Infant Holy, Infant Lowly” fits just right into this little trio of night songs/carols/hymns.

"Infant Holy, Infant Lowly”                                #279 
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You may remain seated for the “Morning Message.” This last grouping of songs/hymns/carols is the American set. While a lot of the singing we do at this time of year is in large thanks to England, I was surprised at the number of American tunes that we maybe don’t think of in terms of what was going on in the life of our country. 

“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” was written during the Industrial Revolution, on the cusp of the Civil War, and during the California Gold Rush. Even though we are not singing verse 3 today, it had never occurred to me that those "beneath life’s crushing load, Whose forms are bending low, Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps and slow” were people that perhaps carried real, heavy, crushing loads of rock or coal or even munitions. 

“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” #251
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In my humble opinion, no better song for those who struggle for this time of year than "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” The great Henry Wadsworth Longfellow didn’t just pen the words, he “got them.” 

Two years before he wrote the poem, Longfellow's personal peace was shaken when his second wife of 18 years, to whom he was very devoted, was tragically burned in a fire, which caused permanent scar damage to his own face. Then in 1863, during the 
American Civil War, Longfellow's oldest son, Charles, joined the Union cause as a soldier - without his father's blessing. Then his son was severely wounded and it was feared that he might become paralyzed. He eventually recovered, but his time as a soldier was finished. Despite the valleys of his life, including the fear of being sent to an asylum for his grief, Longfellow’s faith found respite by listening - to the bells that rang of a peace that would pass all understanding.  

"I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”  #267  (5 verses)  1864  Longfellow
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During my scrounging and digging for this service, my greatest surprise came in a little video of a question and answer session with a gentleman named Jeremy Summerly of the Royal Academy of Music in England. He was speaking about the history of carols - including other seasonal ones, like Easter and Epiphany carols, explaining that they were mostly developed from circle dances. Ring dances were pretty much what they sound like: a group of people dancing in a circle, with a leader in the middle. The leader would sing a verse and the circle would sing back the refrain. Ironically, the only two songs for today that would fit such a description would be our next, “Go Tell It On the Mountain,” and our last, “Joy to the World.” 

Mr. Summerly made a distinction that I’d not heard before, that “Go Tell It On the Mountain” is an example of a burden. I don’t know why that is its name, but a burden is a song that begins with the refrain and ends with the refrain, with verses in the middle of the musical sandwich. One of the other hymns that might fit the form of a burden would be “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.” We start with the refrain and end with it. “Go Tell It” is also an extrapolated call and response song from the days of tending cotton and tobacco and all the other crops that required long and backbreaking work - the call being the verse and the response being the refrain. 

I didn’t find any evidence of it, but I wonder if the lyrics of “Go Tell It” were, in part, a message about escaping slavery, the shepherds being the ones who were to escape, the light being the North Star, and the angels being those who encouraged the shepherds on their journey, i.e., the abolitionists. Because so many spirituals carry this double meaning, I’m guessing that it’s a possibility.

“Go Tell It On the Mountain”  #258 (3 verses)  Spiritual  1865
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Interestingly enough, “The Birthday of a King” is another hymn from the Civil War era. It’s not necessarily a hymn best suited for congregational singing, but then, neither is “O Holy Night.” And yet the publishers of our hymnal included them. 

The man who wrote “The Birthday of a King” was William H. Neidlinger, who was born in Brooklyn, New York, which is close to Queens, which is where Bill Hirschfeld was born. Neidlinger lived for a time in Chicago, and so did Bill. Neidlinger was a singing teacher and Bill played the trumpet, so this is not just an arbitrary song! 

“The Birthday of a King” #284 (2 verses) William Neidlinger  1890
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“One Small Child” is such a great song, reminding us of the breadth of love in which God sent us the Christ child. But it is a really hard one to follow, and I’ve yet to see a version that is truly congregational friendly. That being said, our version is possible, if you know that the bulletin is no mistake. 

We will sing the beginning of the song, and almost at the end of the third line, we will go back to sing the second verse at the top of the page. When we get to almost the end of the third line again, we will go down to the second verse at the bottom of the page and sing through the top of the second page. Then we go back to the top of the first page to end at the end of the third line, and Bob’s your uncle. It wasn’t mandatory that this song be included today, but it was fitting to include a living American composer, as long as we have one. 

“One Small Child”  #280 (4 verses) David Meece bn. 1952
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“Joy to the World” is perhaps one of the most iconic of Christmas songs/hymns/carols. But it carries an extra layer for us because it was written by Isaac Watts, the great Congregational hymn writer and father of English hymnody. He was properly an English Congregationalist, but we take our fame when we can get it.  

It’s pretty cool that Watts wrote this song with a nod to Handel’s Messiah. I haven’t found it, but perhaps there is an irony that Mr. Watts didn’t write this song to be sung only at Christmas. He thought it would be sung during all different times of the year. 

And then there’s the part where it is based more on a psalm than a gospel, and it speaks more to Christ’s second coming than his first. It was Mr. Lowell Mason who brought the text and tune together in the way we know it. The result is almost like the punch line of a joke: a favorite Christmas hymn based on an Old Testament psalm, set to musical fragments composed in England, and pieced together across the Atlantic in the United States!

May the messages of the music today stay with us in the coming week, for contemplation, prayer, and devotion, making our hearts a place of peace for the spreading in Christ’s name. Amen.
“Joy to the World!”  #270 (4 verses) 1719  Watts