01-10-21 Sunday Sermon

First Congregational Church
January 10, 2021
First Sunday after Epiphany
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
“The Season of Tiny Lights”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

I read this week that a devout, old shepherd lost his favorite Bible while he was out looking for a wayward lamb. Three weeks later, a sheep walked up to him carrying the Bible in its mouth. The shepherd couldn’t believe his eyes. He took the precious book out of the sheep’s mouth, raised his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, “It’s a miracle!” “Not really,” said the sheep. “Your name is written inside the cover.”

I also read that “There’s a fine line between a long, drawn-out sermon and a hostage situation.” Just to balance the score, ya know.

It has been a week - in many ways not unlike 9/11. Dismay, anger, sorrow to some, jubilation to others, fatigue, not all about what happened at the Capital this week, not all about Covid-19. Some of those same feelings have been around for a long while now, even before last March, and a lot of people are not sick and tired of being sick and tired, they are exhausted, utterly spent - whether they’ve been in any fray or not. To that end, I found my heart paying an extra amount of attention to what God needs us to hear this week, and I still hope I’ve heard some of it rightly.

Before we get to the scripture passage, I wanted to make sure we recognize the fact that Epiphany was this past Wednesday. Sometimes known as The Three Kings Day, Epiphany is the celebration of Christ being made known to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi arriving on the scene at Bethlehem. In broader terms, it’s a manifestation of a divine or supreme being, or broader yet - a sudden and/or striking revelation - sort of like a cartoon version of a light going on in someone’s head.

It’s not a trite day, but one that begins an entire season that celebrates the Light of the World coming into it - all the world. As a liturgical season, it extends from January 6 until Ash Wednesday, which is February 17th this year. Encompassing nine Sundays, it it not an insignificant season, and one that might do us real good in this darkest time of the year - at least in Benzie County, which I heard a long while back is the second darkest county in the winter, right behind a county in Oregon.

If we were more liturgical, we would have had a service on Epiphany to celebrate it. And sometimes churches celebrate it the Sunday before. In celebrating it today, we move forward a bit in the season, to the day when Jesus get baptized by John. The book of Luke begins before Jesus’ birth, with his cousin John’s birth to Elizabeth and Zechariah, with much of the first chapter describing Zechariah’s experience with becoming mute in his unbelief of a child to be born to him and his wife in their late age. When Zechariah gets his voice back, he sings a song of praise before Luke goes on to describe Mary and Joseph’s entrance into Bethlehem.

Then Luke goes on to Jesus’ purification ceremony at the temple on the eighth day after his birth and just like that, Jesus is twelve years old and then poof - Cousin John is prophesying about Christ’s coming with scripture from Isaiah and baptizing people with water.  

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
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 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 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.”

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.”

Thank you, Phil. Ole’s church council met to discuss the pastor’s compensation package for the coming year. After the meeting the chair of council told the pastor: “We are very sorry, Pastor, but we decided that we cannot give you a raise next year.” “But you must give me a raise,” said the pastor. “I am but a poor preacher!” “l know,” the council chair said. “We hear you every Sunday.”

I feel a little like a poor pastor, not in the financial way, but in the shepherd leading the flock way. I wish I had a magic wand to help people to love enemies, to bless them and not curse them, to do good to them that hate you as Matthew writes in chapter 5.  

Please know that I’m not looking for pats on the back or any sort of accolades. I’m being very honest, because I think a lot of what is plaguing us at the moment is our understanding of the voice from heaven, like that at Jesus’ baptism, being for us - our own selves alone - and not so much for those who don’t think like me.

Like so many of you know - so I’ve heard, the love for a child doesn’t change when the kid goes off and does something really dumb or unwise - regardless of how they were raised. God loves us more than a parent in that situation. God loves us, and is well pleased with us - perhaps not so much with our behaviors - even in God’s name.

It was a little tempting to look for a different passage for this particular Sunday. But there’s still good stuff here - even stuff for 21st century adult and children children of God.

If Jesus was as fully divine as he was fully human, he wouldn’t have needed to be baptized. It was within his right and realm to skip that part of his life, and perhaps his life might not have been as different as we might think. But he chose to be baptized. And I’ve yet to see or encounter a baptism that isn’t cause for a pause. So we have a moment to pause this morning, from the pain and chaos and boredom and busyness and all the other parts of our lives at the moment - to think about this moment in time and what we have to do with it as individuals.

I came across an amazing insight by a young man related to one of our church family, who is a subsistence farmer out east. He said, “Genuine prayer or meditation is one of the only ways to effect sustainable systemic change. This is an unpopular position, but we become like anything we focus on, including any opponent. Prayer is cheapened by those who use it as a grocery list to God. And prayer is derided by those who don't know its purpose: self-transformation.”

Sustainable systematic change - self-transformation. Those are really tall orders, especially sitting over here in little Benzie County - or whatever county you’re in. I’d guess that most of us aren’t really interested in sustainable systematic change unless it directly impacts us, but we are interested in being free of fear and anger and obsessions. And just as Stewart Lundy went on to say, “We have so little control over events out there, but we have a massive amount of control over the one area no one ever wants to address: me, myself, and I.”

My heart has also been concerned about the pieces I’ve read/heard about people saying something to the effect that if you don’t believe or think like me and my ideals, then we can’t be friends. How sad, to think that we are punishing others in pushing them away from us, when in fact, we are doing the real harm to ourselves. No matter what happens to any of us, our capacity to love - or hate - never changes. What changes is with what we allow to fill those chambers. And we have a lot of influence on those fillers.

I would venture another guess - that a lot of us have spent more time in front of the news - in whatever form it comes to you - than we are comfortable admitting. So maybe we need to willfully turn off the tube or technology and look out the window for a while, to see who comes by. After church last week, I learned that a cardinal joined our worship - in Florida.

Pastor Larson and his council president, Sven Johnson ended up in a heated argument over a seemingly minor worship detail. “I suggest we go home and pray to God to grant us peaceful hearts,” said Pastor Larson as Sven stormed past him into the churchyard. After worship the next Sunday morning, Sven greeted Pastor Larson warmly. “I took your advice,” he said. “I went home and said prayed.” “Great!” said Pastor Larson. “So did I! I prayed that God would grant us both peaceful hearts and a fresh start.” “That’s not what I prayed,” said Sven. “I asked God to help me put up with you.”

Maybe the best way to begin helping in the healing of this nation - all nations, even - is to take a look at what hasn’t worked. I haven’t held the leaders of our countries in my heart very much. Maybe you haven’t either. I haven’t made helping other people - regardless of my ability - the first and foremost focus of each day. Maybe you haven’t either. I haven’t taken the time to be quiet, to be still, and to know that God is God - as much as I should have. Maybe you haven’t either. So we can confess our shortcomings. But we can’t stop there.

In this season that can seem so dark, we can be purposeful in bringing light to our love capacities. Maybe that light is dancing, for no reason, not necessarily with music, or alone with the music cranked - as if no one else is watching. Maybe that light is making quests in driving: one day to search out horses, another day alpacas, another day birds outside your own neighborhood.

Maybe the light you bring to your heart comes from attending a free museum virtual tour - whether it be in Rome or London, Seoul or Amsterdam, Brazil or South Africa. Just like we get tired of our own cooking and menus, sometimes we need ideas to do things that can get us outside our own little realms, to see all the other little lights in the world like ours.

There has been so much good that has happened in the last 12 months - in this county, in this country, in our world. It can be really easy to loose sight of the big picture - to see where the Holy Spirit is pointing us - and to summon the courage to act on that sense of direction, even if we are doing it in our own homes - for the time being.

That same courage may be needed for venturing out, once we get away from the moment. I can tell you that some of those steps will feel unsafe, because we have been in a protective mode for a long while. But we do ourselves, others and God great disservice if we use a virus, or fear or any other excuse to keep us from being all that God sees us to be, to be our own tiny light that joins others into a flame of love and compassion. So shall we pray.

Gracious, Holy and Patient God, there are times when we just don’t get things right - as individuals and as your people, and that’s no news to you. Even so, forgive us. Enable us to do better. Strengthen the courage in each of us to take stock of our hearts and minds and souls and to get to the replenishment of them with what is good and nourishing and light sharing. Be with us, especially those of us who are hurting in ways that cause pain for others, and heal us with your love and compassion, by your Son and your Holy Spirit. Thank you for sending us your son, who not only gave us examples of how to live, but how to be. For these and all your blessings, all your people say, Amen.