Everything We Need Fits in the Manger

Everything we need fits in the manger. 

Everything we need as people… whoever we are, no matter our age, our location, our vocation, our gender, our race, our diagnoses, our political affiliation, our preferred sports team, our griefs, our joys… everything we need fits in the manger. 

This year has been a difficult year for most of us in this room. Almost no family in this community has been untouched by loss. Tight finances, family tensions, unexpected changes, instability in the world, and even random complications in routine procedures have affected all of us. With that level of complexity, we come here on Christmas Eve, wanting the familiar and the comfortable. 

It's also possible that many of us look at the simplicity of the manger and appreciate it only for this moment, an hour or so out of “regular” time, because otherwise, there’s no way it can meet the challenges of our everyday lives. 

Here’s the thing, though. You know me. I have been with you at the funerals this year. Our kids have been playing together. I sat through the same tens of thousands of political ads you did. I prayed for rain, fire suppression, protection of rescue workers, safety, and for healing in the same situations you did. So, I have no reason now to pretend or to lie to you when I need the same good news you do. You’re getting the Christmas message that I need to hear just as much as you- everything I need fits in the manger. 

The manger isn’t just a historical detail in an ancient story – it is a powerful metaphor for how God chooses to meet our deepest human needs. That wooden feedbox, whatever its original size was, holds the infant Christ who reveals God’s presence, provision, and peace. 

First, presence. In the Christmas story, we see God choosing to become present with humanity in the most intimate way possible – by becoming one of us. The manger represents God's desire to meet us where we are, in our messiness and vulnerability. Nothing is more vulnerable or messy than childbirth or, afterward, the baby. 

The reality of God coming into the world as an infant is a powerful reminder that we don't need to clean ourselves up or achieve some level of perfection before we can experience God's presence. God comes to us as we are, where we are. In the manger, we find Christ- God with us- in the same humble state in which we all entered the world. 

God’s willingness to take on the vulnerability of human infancy and the aches and pains of human growth is a witness to how God keeps all the divine promises. A God who is willing to show up like this will always be present in other unexpected and humble ways. The presence of God in the manger is the promise of the presence of God everywhere there is need- in a hospital room, at a dinner table, in the cab of a truck, in a classroom, or in the grocery store.

The manger shows us that God is not uninterested in our lives; God is intimately involved in them. Christ is not far off or distant, but close—close in our suffering, close in our joy, close in our loneliness, and close in our hope.

Now, let's talk about provision. At first glance, a manger might seem like a symbol of lack, not a fancy cradle or even a real bed. In that humble feeding trough, however, lay everything humanity truly needed – a Savior who would provide not just for our physical needs, but for our deepest spiritual longings. The manger teaches us that true provision often comes in unexpected packages and that sometimes, less isn’t really more. Less can be enough.

The manger tells us that God will provide what we need, not necessarily what we want. In the gift of Jesus, God gives us everything we need for life and salvation: the forgiveness of sins, the promise of eternal life, and the hope of a restored relationship with our Creator. In and through Christ, we have everything necessary to live a life of faith, to endure trials, and to be part of how God’s will is done on earth as in heaven.

Jesus is the answer to our deepest hungers—our hunger for purpose, our hunger for peace, our hunger for love. When we focus on how we have to do things for ourselves, we often miss the ways that God does provide for us- people around us who are glad to help, open doors and windows that create opportunities, the ability to focus on one day at a time and see blessings around us. 

Understanding God’s provision does not mean we won’t ever suffer or struggle. I am certain Mary didn’t imagine laying her firstborn child on a bed of straw in a strange house. God’s provision, though, meant that she had a safe place to give birth and revelation of God’s presence in clear and tangible ways through the location, the hospitality, and then the witness of the angels to the shepherds. The same God shows up for us in clear and tangible ways, providing for our needs. 

Finally, the manger reveals God’s peace. Peace isn’t merely the absence of conflict. The original manger was located in an occupied territory of the Roman Empire, whose emperor kept peace by squashing rebellions rather violently. Shortly after Jesus’ birth, Joseph and Mary will have to flee with the infant to Egypt in order to keep him safe from Herod’s slaughter of innocents. 

The peace that comes to us in the manger is a peace for our hearts and minds. In a world constantly clamoring for our attention, bombarding us with messages about what we need to buy, achieve, or become to find happiness, the manger offers a radical alternative. It whispers to us that peace is not found in external circumstances or accomplishments, but in recognizing and embracing the presence of God in our lives.

This peace reminds us that we have been made by God and we are loved by God. This is a truth not only for us, but for all people. When we see the infant prince of peace in the manger, the Spirit stirs us to hear an echo, “With God as our Father, we are family”. With that sense of an enlarged family, we see peace on earth beginning here and continuing through us in words and deeds. 

Pope Francis said, “God never gives someone a gift they are not capable of receiving. If he gives us the gift of Christmas, it is because we all have the ability to understand and receive it.” 

Everything we need fits in the manger and God has made us capable of receiving the gifts that have been provided in love.  

This Christmas, let us ask for our hearts to be opened so that we might receive the peace, provision, and presence that God offers through Jesus. And may the joy of knowing that everything we need can be found in the manger fill us with all hope, joy, and love as we celebrate His birth. 

May God’s peace, provision, and presence be with you always. And when any of those seems far away, no matter the time of year, return to the manger. It all fits right here. Amen.

 

Andrew Jackson, Jesus, and Me

Recently, I needed a haircut. By that, I mean that I suddenly couldn’t tolerate my hair situation (last cut in May), and I wanted a trim RIGHT NOW. I wasn’t even willing to wait for my regular place in my town, but instead looked online where I was to see if I could get it done IMMEDIATELY. 

(If you’re neurotypical, the idea of being unable to wait for a haircut probably seems very odd. All my neuro-spicy folks know what I mean.) 

I went into a place where I knew they probably couldn’t mess up a trim and was the only customer in the place. As I was checking, a woman and a tween (her daughter?) came in behind me. They also checked in and we were seated in side-by-side chairs, probably six feet apart. 

After I had discussed my instantaneous trim needs with the stylist, I was then listening to the other stylist discuss the desired haircut with the tween. She wanted all her hair gone, a dramatic chop! As she spoke with her stylist, she explained why and included that her father had passed away a few days earlier. 

The stylist gasped and offered condolences. She asked what happened. The child said, “Illness”, but the adult (mom?) said, “He lost his battle with depression.”

The stylist offered condolences again and then told a story about loss in her family. I know this was to show understanding and solidarity, but the end result was the mom walking away to examine the product display. When your grief is fresh, you don’t always have the capacity to process other people’s stories or even to receive them graciously. Everything you have is concentrated on keeping yourself going for the people who need you. 

As our haircuts continued in tandem, I listened to the tween talk about hair and then listened to the whisper of the scissors in both our stations. I thought about what I might say to the woman. I knew some good books to offer, and I had colleagues in the location I trusted, if she needed a clergyperson or just someone to listen. 

I also know that, in grief and overwhelm, it can be hard to discern good intentions. Sometimes an encounter with a stranger, no matter how well meaning, is just too much information to process. 

I wanted to do something, anything, that could be helpful, and I felt that I had one choice. As I gathered my things after my cut, I motioned to my stylist that I wanted to pay for both haircuts. I paid, tipped well, and left without saying anything to anyone. 

I have fairly extensive experience in being with people in grief. I am not a stranger to a conversation around the pain and mixed emotions of being left behind after someone completes suic*de. I have worked with children after loss. 

I also know that sometimes words are not the thing. Sometimes silence is the thing. Silence may involve listening. Silence may involve service, even for someone you don’t know. 

That woman expected to pay $20 or so for that haircut, so I don’t think I made a significant financial contribution to her situation. I do think, though, that a paid for haircut could be a tiny bit of hope or comfort in a bleak midwinter. It is enough to know that someone heard her pain and wanted to help a little. And if many people around her help a little, it can change a lot. 

When we treat money as a taboo subject, it means we also don’t discuss what good can come from it. The cost of that haircut wasn’t nothing to me. I have kids. I have bills. I have student debt I’m still paying. It was, however, what I hope someone would do for me or for someone I love in the same situation.

Little generosities, small kindnesses, gentle silent service can make big differences. You don't have to have the right words. It is often enough to just do one small thing.

Andrew Jackson was not Jesus. 

But an Andrew Jackson can do the work of Jesus in a moment. It can dispel a kernel of the shadow of grief. Sometimes that’s all you can do. 

And it is enough.  

The Reign of Christ and the Long Defeat

At one point in The Lord of the Rings, the royal elf Galadriel describes her life and experience and says, “… we have fought the long defeat.” Galadriel, like other elves and the Hobbits and many others, is depicted as being on the right side of things in the books. The Company of the Ring (the Fellowship) wins and defeats the forces of evil. Why would she consider this a “long defeat”? 

Furthermore, why would J.R.R. Tolkien, the author, apply the same term to himself. He wrote in a letter, “Actually, I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect ‘history’ to be anything but a 'long defeat’ – though it contains (and in a legend may contain more clearly and movingly) some samples or glimpses of final victory.” (Letter #195)

Tolkien, a Brit, fought in World War 1. Though he was on the side that “won”, he saw the devastation following the war on all sides- how the “winners” struggled with what they had seen and done and how the “losers” were galvanized to see themselves as “wronged” and regrouped to try again. He watched as people turned away from the long-standing guidance of scripture and religious traditions toward leaders who both preyed on people’s fears and stirred up their basest desires. 

Tolkien's concept of the "Long Defeat" became a theme in his works, especially in The Lord of the Rings and his letters. It refers to the ongoing struggle against overwhelming darkness, evil, or entropy (gradual decline into disorder). Tolkien understood that the battle for what is right may never be completely won but is still fought because of its inherent value. As a Christian, Tolkien, along with his friend C.S. Lewis, believed in the idea of a persistent, noble resistance against forces that may ultimately be too strong to overcome, yet the fight continues because of its moral or existential importance. The fight also continues because the ultimate victory is not in the hands of individual fighters but of God. 

The long defeat is an aspect of the youngest liturgical celebration on our calendar, Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday. It originated in the Roman Catholic Church, under the guidance of Pope Pius XI (eleventh) in the year 1925. The solemn observance was held on the Sunday in October, making it not too convenient for Protestants to follow as that’s typically Reformation Sunday. Following Vatican II, however, the observance was moved to the last Sunday of the church year, previously called Judgment Sunday. 

Why would church leaders have felt the need to christen a new church festival in the 1920s and why would it spread across denominations and the world within fifty years? 

In the wake of World War 1, Christian leaders noticed the same issues as Tolkien. They saw that the church no longer had the influence it once had. People did not look to their religious and spiritual practices and leaders to guide them. People looked, instead, charismatic political leaders for inspiration, comfort, and instruction. As these leaders used the vocabulary of the Bible and church history to stir up grievances and keep energy high, the pope and other religious leaders were alarmed, just like Tolkien, Lewis, and other writers. The movement that was on the rise was called “Christian nationalism”- an idea that a nation or people therein would shape everything according to Christian ideals. 

For many believers in Jesus, that doesn’t initially sound so bad. If a leader claimed such a thing, why should we be concerned? Such language and actions should concern us because the essence of Christianity has never been about worldly power. If we always imagine a balance scale in our mind with the words and deeds of Jesus on one side, we must weigh everything else against that truth that sets us free. If we say we are followers of Christ, who he is and what he does must be given the most weight in our lives- words, thoughts, and deeds. 

In today’s gospel from John, Jesus is before the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate. Pilate’s concerns are good order in the region, answering to the emperor for his actions, overseeing trade and connections with area leaders, and squashing rebellions to keep the peace. The idea that the Prince of Peace is right in front of him means nothing to him and would never occur to him. Even our most generous reading of Pilate cannot untangle the man from his complicated relationship with Roman power and oppression. 

Jesus, for his part, knows this. Even as he might desire to be merciful to Pilate, John’s writing here reveals that Jesus is not going to claim kingship for himself. Pilate and other world leaders only have one image of a king- one who seeks to accrue power, land, and resources through many means- most of them violent. Not only is Jesus not violent, but even when he’s righteously angry, he has no need to accumulate earthly status symbols. He is the Son of God. He has been since the beginning. The kingdoms of this world cannot offer him anything that isn’t already his. 

He tells Pilate that his kingdom or realm is not of this world. Notice Jesus does not say he doesn’t have a kingdom. He simply notes that his reign is not on this plane of existence. This was probably frustrating and annoying to Pilate, who likely got as tangled up as we do when Jesus doesn’t seem to give a direct answer. 

Note what else Jesus says, though: “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over... But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Jesus has no expectation of his followers fighting in for him or in his name. Jesus explicitly rejects the idea of holy war on his behalf. In Matthew 25, the commands of Jesus are to care for the sick, the naked, the hungry, the imprisoned, and the lonely. None of these described situations are about fighting or seizing power. In the very next chapter, Jesus warns Peter to put away his sword as those who live by the sword, die by the sword. 

Consider that phrase for a moment: those who live by the sword, die by the sword. What shapes our living will consequently shape our dying. This is a key understanding in following Christ. If we live in Him, shaped by his commandments and imitating his grace, mercy, and welcome, we will die in Him- assured and consoled by all that has been done for us and by the amazing grace that will lead us home. 

Which brings us back to today’s commemoration of Christ the King and why this day was deemed to be necessary. There is no government on earth that has not been established in some way by force. The coercive power considered “necessary” to establish and run a country, nation, or rebellion is not of Christ. When political leaders make promises, even using biblical or church language, they are in cahoots with the forces that oppose God and probably not in accordance with the will of God. 

Sometimes we can see and acknowledge governments or officials are able to accomplish deeds that are in line with God’s expressed will for caring for the marginalized, community flourishing, and stewardship of creation. More often than not, however, we know leaders are excited to use power to support themselves, their own agendas, and their friends. 

This is the gravest danger of Christian nationalism- that we will be misled by people who use the words we long to hear, but only use power as a means to their own ends, having nothing to do with Christ or his own instructions to his followers. The further we move from the center of Christ’s commands and will, the more people are harmed since care for and love of neighbor is the very essence of what it means to follow Jesus. 

In 1925, church leaders saw the need for a reminder that Christ is our ultimate leader. Even as we understand our vocation of citizenship in voting and participating in action, our highest allegiance is to the King of kings and the Lord of lords. Back to that image of the balance scale, we must weigh not only our own words but the words and deeds of those who seek to lead us. How do they measure up to Christ’s guidance to those who claim to be his followers? 

The truth of today’s observance, Reign of Christ or Christ the King Sunday, is to recognize the truth of our long defeat. To know we have been invited and equipped to be a part of how God’s will is done on earth, but also to know and accept that we will not complete the work. And what good we may do can easily be overturned by the forces that oppose God- spiritual forces, political forces, and the force of brokenness, which we call sin. 

Here is the word of hope I offer you in the long defeat, a reason to keep going, a word of true hope from the anchor of our faith. There is nothing but long game when you follow the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. There is nothing but long game when you trust in the Prince of Peace. There is nothing but long game when you seek the will of the One who is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. 

The best history of Christianity has been when we engaged in the long game, even if it is a long defeat- the founding of hospitals and care for the sick and the dying, the work of improving prisons and accompanying the incarcerated, the work of feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, the work of pursuing justice with generosity and self-control and little recognition. 

Christianity’s holy wars, forced conversions, and efforts to create “Christian nations” are typically counted as moral failures, the opposite of the “long defeat”. Those doomed actions, in particular, are exactly what Jesus tells Pilate that his followers will not do because they were, and are, attempts to establish a kingdom like that of the rulers of the earth, not the ruler of heaven.

No matter what happens to the kingdoms of this world, God is faithful and constant. The One who made us is the One who is, was, and is to come. We are not drawn together by the Holy Spirit to flail about in confusion or hopelessness. The Spirit’s tether binds us into a community that is equipped with the written word of God and with the gifts of baptism and holy communion. We have received inspiration, guidance, and sustenance for the journey of faith on which we are led and accompanied by the One who knows and loves us best. Our long defeat will always be God’s ultimate victory. 

On this day and every day, remember that you have been claimed and called by One whose kingdom is not of this world. His life and his word are both eternal. He welcomes all and our names are in the book of life, in his royal handwriting and not our own. Jesus Christ is the only one who can promise a reign forever and ever. And who graciously brings us into that eternity by his love. Amen. 

What is Best (Sermon)

Pentecost 15 (Year A) 
Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9; Psalm 15; James 1:17-27;  Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

I recently read a novel set in a post-pandemic, apocalyptic world. In the book, people were working to re-establish pockets of society. A traveling symphony moved from town to town in caravans- performing music and works of Shakespeare. Early in their travels, they had tried other plays, but people only wanted to see Shakespearean works. One of the symphony members commented on the desire for Shakespeare, "People want what was best about the world."

As I read and since I finished the book, I kept thinking about that phrase.  People want what was best about the world. People want what was best about the world. That is true even when we’re not in a cataclysmic re-working of what we’ve always known. The very idea of nostalgia, of longing for what once was, is about wanting what was best about the world or what seemed like the best to us. One of the massive tensions between people right now is how differently we may remember the past from how our neighbor remembers it. We’re sure our recollection about what was best, true, and right is correct and they’re sure their memory is more accurate than ours. 

We may not agree on what is or was best about the world in general, but as people of God, as people of faith, we have been drawn together by the Holy Spirit to live according to a different “best”. Today’s readings point us to how we have been called to live so that our way of being reflects best on the One who made, saved, and loves us. 

All four texts today present a way of living that requires dedication and discipline. In Deuteronomy, Moses reminds the people that the laws they’ve been given are meant to do two things. First, the laws will help the people live in community with one another in the new land to which God has brought them. Second, the laws will act as a light to other nations, showing how the people of God live righteously and in so doing, they flourish. The flourishing isn’t a blessing for doing the right thing; it flows from the communal choice to value whom and what God values and to turn away from things that are not of God. 

In the psalm, the writer wonders who may be worthy to enter the temple to worship the Lord. Worthiness does not come from physical perfection or even from the most valuable offering, but instead from holy living. Such living avoids gossip, rejects wickedness, does not cheat others, and pursues justice. The person whose life reflects these choices is worthy to enter the temple. 

In Mark, the author of the gospel is explaining Jewish customs to the Gentile audience who is hearing the gospel story. Even as Mark writes that all Jewish people wash their hands before eating, this can’t be completely true because the disciples and Jesus were all Jewish. The passage shows the tension within the early Christian community, which was trying to understand how Jewish traditions might apply to them (and the word tradition is different from the word law). We see this same struggle within many of Paul’s letters as well. 

Jesus speaks to those who hold tightly to the traditions and cautions them about misplaced priorities. Human traditions are not unimportant to Jesus, but he is concerned about placing a higher value on the ways of people than on the ways of God. The most important behaviors are the ones that show kindness, love mercy, pursue justice, and reveal the presence and providence of God in the world. Habits, traditions, and behaviors that get in the way of those things must necessarily take second or third place or even be eliminated. 

James agrees with Jesus. True religion has nothing to do with how faithful you appear to be or how correctly you can explain what you believe. It has to do with how you live. This explanation becomes a fine line to walk because many people have assumed over the years that right behavior earns God’s favor. That’s not what is being said in this passage. Right behavior flows from God’s favor. It is because we understand and trust in all God has done for us and for all people that we are free and welcomed into service and sharing for the sake of Christ in the world. Because God so loves, then we do too. 

For James, if there is evident suffering in the world, if there is pain, if there is injustice, if orphans and widows are being disregarded and languishing in terror and pain, then there must not be any religious people around. True faithfulness is a response to all that God has done and carries God’s peace and mercy into the world. Even if it’s not what the world values, the truly faithful person doesn’t care. The faithful pray in word and deed for God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. 

This brings me back to the phrase from the beginning, “People want what was best about the world.” Are our lives, individually and communally, reflecting what is best about God’s care and compassion for the cosmos? As one old hymn says, “The love of God is broader than the measure of our minds”. The measuring tape the world has to understand the broadness of that love is the lives of the people of God.

When we think of what’s best about us as a church, as a people of God, as a denomination, and as a community with other Christians- we must assess our actions – with our building, with our time, with our people, with our money. Are we part of what’s best about God’s work in the world? Do people, would people, will people associate us with the accomplishing of the Divine Will?

In these turbulent times, amid unrest, violence, economic tension, and just, plain exhaustion, we cannot abandon what it means to be truly faithful. We cannot draw in and wait for a better time, a calmer time, a more stable time. It is for such a time as this that we have been given the gift of faith, that we have been baptized, for which we have taken communion again and again. 

There is a world longing for the best and we have it, the story, the light, the love, and the very presence of a crucified and risen Christ. We don’t have to have all the answers before we go out to meet even the most basic of the questions. Faithfulness is revealed in the doing- God’s faithfulness to us and then our responsive faithfulness to God. 

People want what is best about the world. Through the Holy Spirit, that can and should include the people whose cups overflow with gratitude because of God’s amazing grace. That is us. 

 

Amen.  

 

What the Lord Needs (Easter Sermon)

Mark16:1-8

The Easter story began a week ago with Palm Sunday. Yes, technically it began four months ago at Christmas, but the particular part of the life of Christ we celebrate today starts with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. He rides in on a donkey because the donkey is the transport of kings in ancient Israel. (We will not explore that rabbit trail today.) Some of you may remember that Jesus rides a borrowed donkey. 

In the Mark passage we read last week, Jesus sends a couple disciples out to obtain the donkey. If they are questioned, he tells them, say, “The Lord needs it.” Find a donkey and that the owner will understand what it means that “the Lord needs it” are assumed. This will happen. And so, it does. Jesus enters Jerusalem on a young donkey, with many people celebrating him by waving branches and throwing their cloaks down in front of him. He has what he needed. 

In the week since then, many in that cheering crowd have fallen away. His disciples were overwhelmed by the events, including that one of their own was the betrayer. By the time Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross, the only people who remain are the women who had supported his ministry with their own resources and a couple of wealthy men who were able to secure Jesus’ body. 

With all of that in mind, I think of Mary Magdalene, Mary (the mother of James), and Salome going to the tomb to care for Jesus’ broken and bruised body. The two men who had been able to bury Jesus had poured a significant amount of nard, a fragrant ointment or oil, over his body before it went into the tomb. This was done in the effort to forestall the body beginning to smell before they could come back after the sabbath and care for Jesus’ body gently by cleaning, anointing, and wrapping it with care. 

The women may have brought cinnamon, lavender, and more nard, as well as frankincense and myrrh. Picture them with a few bags between them- dried flowers poking out of this one, small clay pots clinking in that one. As they walk, they are worried about the stone and whether they will be able to move it together. If a Roman guard is still at the tomb, would the guard move it for them or possibly prevent them from going in. 

In this time of grief, they are focused on what they expect to be in their way. The stone is not merely an obstacle; it is in the way of these women being able to do what they believe Jesus needs. Everything they are bringing, their every intention is because, in their understanding, the Lord has need of it. The body of the Lord has need of it. 

When they arrive at the tomb, though, the stone is already moved. Furthermore, the body of the Lord is not there. In Mark’s account, the two Marys and Salome are met by a white-robed young man who tells them that Jesus has been raised. Lest there be any confusion, the young man tells the women he knows they are looking for Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. There has not been a tomb mix up; the women are in the right place. 

The young man goes on, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 

Mark’s gospel ends abruptly with the women fleeing from the tomb in terror and amazement. Mark writes that they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid. While this seems confusing to us, at the time Mark was written, it is likely that there were still living witnesses to the risen Christ. While maybe not these three women, probably Rufus and Alexander, sons of Simon of Cyrene, as well as some of Jesus’ close followers.

 The first people to hear or read Mark’s account would know that the women had found courage and shared the good news. And not only these women, but many other people saw and experienced the risen Christ. Spelling out the accounting wasn’t as necessary while there were still eyewitnesses to pick up the story. 

On this first Easter morning, however, we have the women, fleeing in terror and amazement. They need to find the other disciples and Peter and tell them that Jesus has gone ahead of them. Ahead of them in death, ahead of them in resurrection, ahead of them to Galilee. 

When we last saw Peter, he denied knowing Jesus. He is singled out in this resurrection announcement to make it clear that Jesus will not deny Peter. The joy of resurrection is for even the ones who make the worst mistakes. 

The women hurry away from the tomb, temporarily stunned into silence. Back home they go. Back home with the cinnamon and the lavender and the nard and the frankincense and the myrrh. Back home with the strips of cloth and lengths of woven fabric. Apparently, the Lord did not have need of it. 

Which brings me to one of the points I want us to take away on this Easter Sunday. How often are we still carrying around things that the Lord does not need? I don’t mean ointments or traditions or even our questions and doubts. 

I mean, how often are we carrying judgment of others, reluctance to change, hesitation to welcome, slowness to be hospitable, griefs and frustrations about minor issues, fear of being wrong in mercy and love? How often are we carrying things because we think the body of Christ needs us to hold on to these things, but all they do is keep us from getting to where the Lord has gone ahead of us. We do not need to carry these things. The Lord does not have need of them. 

What would have happened to all the things the women carried, the spices and flowers and balms? They would have been used to anoint other bodies in death, but with an entirely different sentiment. Each body would have been prepared knowing that death as we perceive it was not the end. Each tomb was closed knowing that Jesus’ words, “It is finished” were followed by the Holy Parent’s words, “But it’s not over”.

The Lord no longer had need of those spices, but the body of Christ- the people in community, the people of hope, the Easter people would and did. The spices would have been used even as those same women, the ones who had initially said nothing, spoke the truth of the resurrection over the bodies for which they tenderly cared. That was what the Lord needed them to do. Their trust in the resurrection, their hope in heaven, their willingness to seem foolish in the eyes of the world in the imitation of Christ- those were what the Lord needed then. 

Our trust in the resurrection, our hope in heaven, our willingness to seem foolish in the eyes of the world because of how we imitate Christ- those are what the Lord has need of now. Not for his own sake, but in joyful response to amazing grace for the sake of the people and the creation that God so loved. Loved. Loves. 

There is nowhere we can go, from Galilee to Libby to the moon, that Jesus is not ahead of us, waiting, welcoming, and guiding us through the Spirit into the accomplishing of the will of God. This is the good news- the purpose of our life in faith. We are useful to the Lord. The Lord has need of us- as his hands of healing, as his words of compassion, as his presence of mercy, and his table-turners for justice and righteousness. 

We must, then, stop carrying what is unnecessary, harmful, dead- so that our hands are open to receive and to give. To let go and let come. 

On this day, on this holy resurrection day, hear these words, beloved: The tomb is empty. Christ is risen. He is with you and has gone ahead of you. You are blessed to be a blessing to others, in a world that needs to know of the triumph of a loving and living God. Go forth in joy and amazement. The Lord has need of you.  

 

Amen. 

Would I Do?

Palm Sunday

Mark 11:1-11

One of my core memories is of a parishioner who said, "I don't think I would have been as brave as the three in the fiery furnace. I think I would have just bowed to the king. I would have bowed and known in my heart that I still loved God. I admire them, but I can tell the truth that I wouldn't have done it." (Daniel 3)

To me, this man's honesty was just as brave. In front of his fellow Christians, in front of his pastor, he owned up to his own facts: he did not believe he would have had the courage to resist the pressures of the king. He would have rather continued to live, being faithful in secret, than risk dying painfully and prematurely for open obedience to God. 

I can respect that kind of truth-telling. None of us want to be weighed in the balance and found wanting. For some of us, that's our greatest fear. The truth is, however, that I suspect most of us are not as brave as we think we are. The right side of history seems clear when we have a viewpoint from years into the future, but it can be harder to discern when we are in the middle of things and decisions have to be made. 

Speaking for myself, I want to believe I would have encouraged my spouse to side with Martin Luther and embrace scripture in the vernacular. I hope I would have been willing to stand with Quakers in the early colonial days, resisting the concept of chattel slavery among people who claimed to be pursuing their own freedom. 

Would I have walked with other suffragettes, trying to get votes for women? I hope I would have been there, mentioning how we needed to be sure women of color should be able to vote too. Would I have been part of a Resistance, hiding Jews in an attic or basement or in a barn? Would I have been willing to travel to register black Americans to vote? 

Or in any of these cases, would I have been more likely to seek safety, to argue for waiting or more time, would I have looked to my own oppressions, whatever they might have been, and just expected others to fight for themselves, while I criticized their actions? 

Holy Week, the days preceding Easter, brings up the same questions. Would I really have stayed with Jesus? 

I can imagine that if I'd been following him, I would have waved a branch as he rode a young donkey into Jerusalem. Who doesn't like a parade? And he's a good guy, doing kind things for all sorts of people. 

But what about when he upends the temple marketplace, yelling at vendors and causing chaos? Would I have been on his side then? Or would I have suggested that he should have been following the rules? 

How about when the chief priests and elders question him and he refuses to play their game? Would I have cheered him on? Or would I have said he should just cooperate and not make trouble? 

Would I have been horrified at his treatment by Pilate and the Roman guards or would I have sadly shaken my head, saying it never would have happened if he had just surrendered quietly and told them what they wanted to know. 

Would I have protected myself, like Peter, by denying any relationship with Jesus or would I have been with other women at the foot of the cross? Or maybe I would have just left town, wanting to stay out of any trouble. 

How can we know what we would have done at another time in history? 

One way is to look at what we do now in similar situations. 

What am I doing when I hear about oppression, injustice, or inequity? 

What am I doing when I hear of someone being unjustly accused? 

What am I doing in the face of intentionally divisive words and actions? 

What am I doing to counter false narratives and lies? 

What am I doing to discern and participate in the doing of God's will on earth as in heaven? 

Jesus befriended outcasts, restored folks to community, spoke boldly about the closeness of God, and brought hope to the poor, oppressed, and isolated. To follow him means to be willing to do those same things in my own time. 

All those realities, listed above, have happened in history, just as they are happening today. 

I can know what I would have done then by taking a hard look at what I am doing...

(or not),...

in the same situations,...

right now. 

Chapter, Verse, and Jesus

John 3:14-21

Let’s talk for a moment about chapter and verse. None of the books of the Bible were written with chapters and verses, neither the epistles (letters), the histories, the prophets, or the gospels. Each work was a scroll or set of papyri that flowed. Not only were there not chapters and verses, but neither biblical Hebrew nor biblical Greek have capital letters or punctuation. Better still, biblical Hebrew doesn’t have vowels. 

No capital letters, no punctuation, and sometimes no vowels. This means that when the Holy Spirit guided the first person who wrote down the stories that were circulating orally, they knew what they meant. And the people around them did as well, but after 2-3 generations translators, readers, and copiers are making their best educated guess. Line breaks were used after the scriptures were codified to make reading easier, but a line break was still a guide and an interpretation.

Chapter separations that we would recognize came into being in the very early 1200s, with the purposes being to set the passages to be read aloud to gatherings of monks and nuns (and others). This is why the informal gathering space (as opposed to the sanctuary) in many European cathedrals is called the chapter house. 

The Wycliffe Bible of 1382 used these chapter divisions and so did most Bible afterward. This means that the Bibles of Martin Luther’s childhood, in the late 1400s and early 1500s, most likely had chapter divisions. (These Bibles were, of course, still written in Latin.) 

In the mid-1400s, a rabbi named Nathan created verse divisions for the Hebrew Bible, or what we sometimes call the Old Testament. In the 1550s, a Swiss printer named Robert Estienne created a numbering system for the New Testament. In Estienne’s printed Bibles, both in Latin and in the local languages, the rabbi’s numbering system and his own were combined to produce scriptures with chapter and verse divisions. 

You all know that I like to give you a little history, but you would be entirely within your rights to be wondering why I’m telling you all this. Why does this matter? Why should you care? You ask such good questions. 

The reason this matters is because, if we consider Christianity to be almost two thousand years old, not only did it take a long time for the scriptures to be translated into common language, but chapters and verses happened even after that. This means that no one who we consider critical to the formation of the early church, or the spread of the gospel had any concept of John 3:16. While they were adept at quoting parts of scripture, they had a strong sense of that quote being part of a whole larger point, as opposed to one small point that stood on its own. Drawing a tiny scriptural point away from its context would not have made sense as a tool for evangelism, debate perhaps, but not as a way to draw people to the love and presence of God. 

Thus, for most of Christian history, what we consider one of the most famous verses in scripture didn’t stand alone. For God so loved the world that He gave the only begotten Son that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life was part of a whole story. This line comes in the middle of a conversation Jesus is having with a Pharisee. Nicodemus, the Jewish leader, comes to Jesus at night, under cover of the shadows, to ask questions about what Jesus is teaching. 

Jesus explains the concept of the Holy Spirit and of a spiritual rebirth. He speaks of how we see the movement of the wind and its work, even when we don’t see the wind itself. (This is a concept easily understood by people in Montana.) As Nicodemus continues to ask questions, Jesus draws Nicodemus’s attention away from his internal confusion and concern to a view beyond himself. He will never understand enough if he keeps looking inside, but must let his eyes be drawn to the One in front of him, the one who whose very life, and then resurrection and ascension, drew eyes toward God. 

Jesus reminds Nicodemus when people in the desert were being bitten by snakes. God instructed Moses to wrap a snake on a pole. When people were bitten, they were to look up from their wounds, their pain, and their confusion to this sign- sent from the One who had brought them into freedom and was leading them with promise. Looking up, with hope and trust, gave them healing. 

While chapters and verses are helpful for references, they come with the same dangers as the biting snakes and paralyzing doubts. (Not all doubts are paralyzing, just some.) Chapters and verses draw our attention down, to small points, taken out of context, with very little to no sense of the whole story. And the whole story matters because it is the story of God. The story of God and creation. The story of God and other spiritual beings. The story of God and people. The story of God in Jesus. The story of what God has done, is doing, and will do. The whole of the story matters. 

Part of the reason that John 3:16 is popular is because, for many people, it gives an essence of the whole story. I get that. You probably understand that. John 3:16 is meaningful to us because we already have a sense of the whole story, but for the person seeing a John 3:16 sign at a football game or on a billboard or a bumper sticker, if they don’t know what it means already, looking it up doesn’t actually give them any information. 

Almost all of you have been in church for years and yet I know most of you are hesitant to ask questions. And you’re for sure hesitant to answer questions because you don’t like to feel or appear like you don’t know the answer. How much more do you think that applies to someone who finally decides to look up John 3:16? 

For God so loved the world- who is this God? Where is this God from? What does this God’s love look like? What world? Just the people? Everything I can see? What about space? 

He sent his Son- Where did this Son come from? Is he like a comic book hero? What are the Son’s powers? 

That whoever believes in him- What does it mean to believe? What if I have more questions? What if I can’t believe? Does God wait until I believe to do the God-things? Is God’s love dependent on me believing? 

Shall not perish but have everlasting life- Does that mean “not die”? Doesn’t everyone die? What is everlasting life? Would I wander the planet getting older and older? 

Those are all the questions that only come from one verse, if you are a person who has truly never encountered the verse before. And let me be clear, there is not a flaw in a that verse. The flaw is in the idea of a single verse as an evangelism strategy. Even worse, the flaw is in the idea of a single verse, without context or relationship, as an evangelism strategy. 

Jesus doesn’t leave Nicodemus in the dark with a notecard with a verse citation. He talks with him. He listens to his questions. He uses references from the natural world and recalls stories that Nicodemus knows. An understanding of the saving love of God comes not from the specific words, but from the Living Word in the person of Jesus. 

This is exactly how we are called to share the love God has for the world, the love that is so great that it brought the Son into the world, not for condemnation, but so the world might be preserved, might have hope, might flourish through him. 

We don’t draw people from the ways of shadows, as described in this passage, by threats of hell. The Spirit draws them into the brightness of living in God through the light of God’s love shining within the people who are actively choosing daily trust in Christ. 

Perishing, in the context of John, isn’t about death the way we think of it. John’s most common phrase, used in 16/21 chapters, is “abide”- to remain or stay. Jesus, in John, is constantly inviting people into the brightness of God by asking them to abide with him, to stay with him, to remain with him- trusting his words, following his commandments, living according to his teaching. Perishing, then, is the opposite of abiding. It is the reality of feeling separated from the brightness of God, to feel a cloud between oneself and heavenly sunshine. 

The reality of this whole section of John is Jesus explaining to Nicodemus, and then John explaining to us, that perishing is not required. It does not have to be. If we are willing to look up, look to the One who is guiding us, who made us, who so loves the world- we will not perish. We will abide. Forever. 

Looking for that answer within ourselves, trying to make it happen for ourselves, will never work. Single verses and words give us an illusion of control- of the word and of God. The human desire for control makes us addicted to perishing, not because we love the idea of separation, but because we do not trust what we cannot see or prove. 

But you, like Nicodemus, can see what the wind can do. 

How much more can God, the source of all good things, the one who is revealed in the Son, the one who so loves the world, … How much more can God save us from perishing, providing with a place of abiding peace, consolation, and strength that we might be a part of the Divine will for healing the world? 

You know God will do it. You know God has done it. You know God is doing it. 

Psalm 107 says, “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so!” 

(This is your chance to call out a hearty “Amen”.)

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. 

And how do we know we’re in that number? How do we know that God does indeed so love? How do we trust in such mercy, such grace, and such redemption. 

We trust it is so, beloved, because we’ve been told it. Again, and again. Chapter and verse and beyond. Amen.  

 

 

A Fish Story of Repentence (Sermon)

The greatest miracle in the story of Jonah isn’t the big fish. It’s never been the fish. It’s not the fish for two reasons. Firstly, we’ve all heard fish stories before and we know how they go. Secondly, and more importantly, God has always done what God needed to do to get human attention. Bush on fire, but not consumed? Check. (Exodus 3) Fleece is wet, but the floor is dry? Check. (Judges 6) Donkey refuses to move until you listen to the angel visitor? Check. (Numbers 22)

God will get your attention, our attention, as needed. For most of us, no big fish needs to be involved. For Jonah, however, the Lord needed to engage a massive attention-getting device, such that Jonah would realize, as we all must:  you can run from your Creator, but you can’t hide. 

Why didn’t Jonah listen in the first place? For reasons that made good sense to him. Nineveh was a significant location for trading routes crossing the Tigris River on the great road between the Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean. In this important location between east and west, Nineveh, as a major city and eventually the last capital of the Assyrian Empire, amassed wealth and power from many sources. The Assyrian Empire was the big man on the Mesopotamian campus, until it was overthrown. 

The overthrow of Assyria took concerted effort by the forces of Babylonians, Chaldeans, and Persians, along with other significant local players, with the Babylonians ending up as the new regional power. Remember, also, that Assyria was the nation that carried the 10 northern tribes, or the nation of Israel, off the map. Nineveh was a large city in the middle of a not-beloved region and God calls Jonah, a Hebrew prophet to them.

 

Jonah doesn’t want to go. How could he hold his head up with his people again if he was known as the prophet to Nineveh? If he survived and returned, how could he possibly tell anyone where he’d been sent and then what God did? 

 

And Jonah doesn’t want to go because he was aware of how God operated (and operates). Slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love? For the Ninevites? For Assyrians? Absolutely not. 

 

When people talk to me about the “God of the Old Testament”, hardly anyone ever mentions this story and what Jonah knew about God’s reputation. We have here a prophet, one of God’s own chosen people, who knows that God’s reputation isn’t destruction, but mercy. Not rejection, but welcome. Not endless devastation, but relentless justice and restoration. Jonah may not be able to answer why bad things happen to good people, but he is refusing to be part of how good things happen to bad people (in his mind). 

 

So, he goes down to the docks and buys passage to Tarshish. To give you some perspective: Nineveh was located where we see Mosul, Iraq on a map, about 500 miles east of Jerusalem. Tarshish was on the southern coast of Spain, about 2000 miles in the other direction. For Big Timber, that’s close to if God told one of us to go to Bismarck, North Dakota and we went to Juneau, Alaska instead. 

Jonah flees. His disobedience endangers everyone aboard the same ship with him. Cargo is thrown overboard, and the boat is in distress. When the sailors narrow down that Jonah is the problem, they go wake him up from his nap to tell him. He says for them to throw him over the side, and they only reluctantly agree to do so. He’d still rather drown than tell God he’ll go to Nineveh. Enter the fish. 

Jonah spends three days giving the great fish indigestion, He seems repentant of his disobedience, so God has the fish vomit Jonah out on the beach. There, while he’s still covered in slime, the word of the Lord comes to Jonah for a second time. Any time the Bible makes it clear that God is repeating Godself, one should listen. Jonah trudges off. I say trudges because his behavior in the final chapter of this story makes it clear he still wasn’t joyful about this assignment, and he has no intention of preaching with any enthusiasm. 

Yet, after barely one day into a three-day journey, the Spirit has begun to move among the people of Nineveh. They’re repenting en masse. No one is saying “not all Assyrians”. No one is saying, “Well, I wasn’t part of the problem.” No one is starting a countermovement or trying to reframe the story about the sins of their ancestors or their neighbors, but definitely not them. Every single Assyrian realizes that there’s a societal problem and they all choose to be part of the solution, part of the hope, part of the repair. They all want better for Nineveh, for all their children, for the land, for every animal. 

This goes all the way up to the king, who joins in the repentance movement and becomes its leader. He does not blame his opponents. He does not point fingers, call names, or reject responsibility. The king understands that the hope of Nineveh is for everyone and everything to turn from their current behaviors toward the expectations of Jonah’s God.

Does this turning toward orthopraxy- a right, holy practice- include monetary honesty, liberty for captives, equity among citizens, justice for all? Does it mean slowly transforming a stratified society, attention to the reasons behind poverty, care for the mentally and physically ill? Does it mean that the capital of Assyria must recognize that with great power comes great responsibility? We don’t know the specifics of the change of heart, but we do know that every single Assyrian- every adult, every child, every cow (representing all the domestic animals)- repents. 

Repentance here isn’t mere apology but is a clear turning of hearts and minds toward behavior that is pleasing to God.  They all do it. To a person and to a bovine. And that’s the great miracle in this Bible story- it is possible for an entire society to change its ways. God can do it. God has done it. God will do it. 

And Jonah, as the kids say, is SALTY about it. He is mad, mad, mad. God relents and chooses, as is the Divine prerogative, to show mercy to Nineveh. Jonah is angry. If God was going to be merciful anyway, why did Jonah have to risk life, limb, and reputation? Jonah goes out, east of Nineveh to pout. He sits down to see what’s going to happen. Maybe God will yet wipe Nineveh off the map, just as Assyria has done to others. 

The Scripture says, then, that God provided a bush for Jonah, to give the prophet a little shade. Jonah liked that very much. The next day, God sent a worm whose day’s work was to destroy the bush. God turned up the wind and the heat and Jonah was now extremely unhappy. 

And then comes the very best scene in the Bible outside of the gospels:

[Jonah] begged that he might die, saying, “It’s better for me to die than to live.”

⁹ But God said to Jonah, “Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?” And he said, “Yes, angry enough to die.” ¹⁰ Then the Lord said, “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. ¹¹ And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left and also many animals?” (Jonah 4:9-11, NRSVUE)

 

Look, God is saying, you don’t have to like them, but the Ninevites are as much my people, part of my beloved creation, as you are. They may make bad choices, they may be caught in a web of their destructive ways, but I love them. I have compassion for them. I want better for them. I will not give up on them. 

 

And if I won’t, says the Lord in my holy imagination, then you don’t get to do so either. You don’t get to place laurels of righteousness on your own head if you refuse to be part of my desire for healing in creation. I’ve got bigger fish than you, Jonah, as you well know. You don’t have to like the Assyrians, but you have to love them. In this case, loving them means acting in their best interest- telling them that there is a way to avoid destruction and to live in hope and a just peace. 

 

In this story, perhaps you have imagined yourself as Jonah. Maybe you know the people or person to whom you have been called to share the good news of Jesus Christ- a message of hope and not condemnation, of justice and not rejection, of community action and not individual isolation. Are you listening to that call or are you in a boat in the other direction? Are we as a church listening to that call? To whom have we been directed to speak a word from God, but have kept silence? Have we hoped I, as pastor would do it alone- even though there’s no “I” in Christian community? (Well, technically there are three, but you know what I meant.) 

 

Or, in our own time, we may be the Assyrians, pre-repentance. We may well be stuck in denying our role in any societal failures or breakdowns. It wasn’t me or my parents, why should I repent? We look away from leaders whose personal choices are genuinely harmful because they, currently, aren’t harming us. Societal repair, in this situation, means making things smooth for me and the people I know, especially the ones who vote like me, spend like me, work like me, and make choices like I do. That way of thinking is destructive, rotting a society from the inside out. And it has no place among Christians who claim to have said yes to Jesus’ call. 

 

Fishing in Jesus’ day was a way of life- sustaining a community with food and financial resources. It involved everyone- netmakers, boat builders, market stall owners, traders, and others. A call to “fish for people” wasn’t about collecting souls, but an invitation into an equally important type of community sustenance- the care and thriving of the soul of a community. It is the call that comes to us all, through our baptisms, which draw us into work together. Work together, I said, not an individual silo of one saved person without other cares. 

 

The story of Jonah is a story of one prophet who represents a whole people, the people of Judah, during a time of nationalistic attitudes when most everyone wished to keep the country’s resources to themselves, including and especially their relationship with the Creator of All. That’s what was happening when Jonah was written and it’s that nationalistic, closed-in attitude that the book addresses in its own time and in ours. 

We don’t get to resist the call to serve others. We don’t get to flee from the Spirit’s urging to care. We don’t get to say it wasn’t me. If we’ve come to understand who God is and what God’s about, we ignore that work at our peril. And we better not pray, “Let thy will be done on earth as in heaven” if we’re not willing to participate. Like Jonah with the sailors, our refusal to listen, trust, and obey can and will endanger others. 

 

If God loves them, we are called to do the same- to the ends of justice and mercy and healing. The Lord said to Jonah, “And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left and also many animals?”

 

Insert for Nineveh any country, any political party, any ideology, any race, any creed, any social group, any person. And remember that someone, somewhere has had to have God say these same words about you to them. The greatest miracle in Jonah isn’t the fish. And it never has been. 

 

It’s that the Spirit of the merciful God can change the hearts of a whole nation, including the king and the livestock, and can use the most reluctant of followers to do it. 

 

Amen. 

Starring Spiritual Discipline

The "star words" for 2024 are from a short list of 12 spiritual disciplines. You may prayerfully look through this list and discern how the Spirit is calling you. Or you may click here to be directed to a random number generator. Set 1 as the lower limit and 12 as the upper. Click and see what number you get, corresponding to a discipline on the list below. 

Spiritual Disciplines 2024

A guide to living the baptized life ever more fully

 

1.    Abstention – restraining from indulgence

 

If your first thought regarding abstention is about dieting, think again. This spiritual discipline invites us into refraining from indulgences that cause us to stray from the will of God. This is an invitation to work on self-restraint with words and actions. This is a call to abstain from judgment of others, quick and thoughtless comments, or mindless actions that cause you to feel regret or frustration later. The practice of abstention may find you being quiet a little more often, as well as holding back in situations where groupthink may not lead to productive or healing actions.  

For kids: abstention means to NOT do things we know better than to do, but sometimes to do anyway. It’s connected to self-control. 

 

Bible verse: 2 Timothy 1:7

 

2.    Celebration – marking occasions with joy and hope

 

Any excuse for a party! Sort of. The spiritual discipline of celebration is an outward engagement with joy and praise at God’s work in the world. A call to disciplined celebration is a call to seek where and how the Divine will is being accomplished in and around us. Has there been healing? Celebrate with thanksgiving. Is there spiritual growth? Celebrate with prayer and singing. Has there been reconciliation? Celebrate with Holy Communion! You have been invited into a year of looking deeper toward joy and hope in the fulfilling of God’s promises. 

 

For kids: celebrate means to be excited about things that show God’s love and work in the world- in creation, at church, with friends and family. 

 

Bible verse: Philippians 4:4

 

3.    Fellowship – engagement with others, especially those outside your “usual” group

 

Fellowship is a discipline of engagement. Rather than merely meaning that you commit to staying for coffee hour, it means that the Spirit is inviting you into closer community with your fellow Christians and your neighbors. Committing to growth in the discipline of fellowship might mean participating in a group activity you’ve been meaning to try or arranging a get together with friends you think might enjoy one another’s company. This is not an invitation to exhaustion, but a welcome opportunity to deepen relationships with people around you through intentional activities. 

 

For kids: fellowship means doing things with people who aren’t always in your friend group. Not people who aren’t kind, necessarily, but people who might feel left out or need an invitation to play or sit with you at lunch. 

Bible verse: Hebrews 10:24-25

 

4.    Meditation – mental exercise for the purpose of spiritual growth 

 

Meditation embraces several spiritual disciplines into one practice: silence, prayer, and awareness. Developing a practice of meditation means embracing God’s call toward stillness of mind and body. Baby steps in the practice include working toward quieting the mind, paying attention to surroundings, and listening for God. Of all the disciplines in the list, expect great failure in this one unless you’re already pretty good at it. Great failure at first, however, means room for amazing growth! 

 

For kids: meditation means taking time to help our bodies and minds learn to pay attention to God. What is God doing and saying around you? 

 

Bible verse: Isaiah 26:3

 

5.    Perseverance – the characteristic or action of steadfastness; unwavering commitment

 

Hooray! You’ve received the opportunity to be stubborn for a year! Well, you’ve received an invitation into stubbornly pursuing the will of God. The discipline of perseverance means pursuing words and deeds that are directed at justice, healing, renewal, and mercy throughout the year. It means bringing up the issue when others want to ignore it. It means potentially setting aside your own uncertainty to pursue hope and aid for another. You have been called to stubbornly persist in seeing God’s will done on earth as in heaven. 

 

For kids: perseverance means to keep trying on something you know you have to learn how to do. You might not get it the first or the second time, but remember God is with you and helping you. 

 

Bible verse: Galatians 6:9

 

6.    Prayer – earnest (usually intentional) communication with God

 

Initially, the discipline of prayer may seem easy. Couldn’t you just say the Lord’s Prayer every day and say you did it? That’s the letter of the discipline, but not the spirit. Genuine prayer involves conversation with God, back and forth, listening and speaking. Your growth in prayer discipline may not look the same as someone else’s for there are many ways to pray. This is a good discipline to discuss with Pastor Julia. What stands in your way? What would work for you? How can you be kind to yourself as you become more disciplined in prayer. 

 

For kids: prayer is talking to and listening to God. It can mean saying thank you, asking for help for yourself or someone else, or saying what amazing things God has done. 

 

Bible verse: 1 Timothy 2:1

 

7.    Sabbath – a day (or time) set aside for rest and, ideally, for spiritual focus

 

The discipline of sabbath-keeping is probably the discipline in this list that is most counter-cultural. The Spirit is welcoming you into intentionally setting aside time for rest and renewal. While the most strict interpretation of sabbath-keeping would be to be at church more often, the intention of the discipline is to see what idols have cropped up in your life and how to let them go. What is taking time, attention, resources, and energy that rightfully belong to God? This includes things that keep you from rest, since rest is an aspect of godliness that our Creator desires for us. 

 

For kids: sabbath means a time of rest and a time of worship. What could you do to help your family have quiet times and times of praising God? 

 

Bible verse: Leviticus 23:3

 

8.    Service – participation in helpful activity

 

This particular discipline has two sides. If you are already a person who easily says yes, the discipline of service is to refrain from committing to additional activities. Instead, listen to how the Spirit is guiding you to deeper and fuller commitment to what you already do. 
If you are a person who watches while others do (yes, I mean you), the Spirit is nudging you into helpful action. This doesn’t mean filling your days with activities, but it does mean paying attention to where a simple yes from you could really make a difference. Drying the dishes? Keeping company? Carrying something to or back from Bozeman or Billings? You are being called to service for others in the name of the Lord. 

 

For kids: service means helping others. Look for ways to be a helper and watch for all the different helpers around you. 

 

Bible verse: Mark 10:42-45

 

9.    Simplicity – being plain, natural, and easy to understand

 

The discipline of simplicity is an invitation to freedom. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be. In fact, this may be the Spirit’s nudge to make things simpler in your life. What needs to be set in order? What needs to be eliminated? This is the discipline of letting enough be as good as a feast. This is not an opportunity to do nothing, but the chance to let your life and mind become a little more quiet and at peace through attention to God’s direction and call. 

 

For kids: simplicity means easy and not too fancy. Working with simplicity means being happy with what you have and taking care of it to show your gratitude and care for God and others. This includes being gentle with things and people. 

 

Bible verse: Proverbs 16:8

 

10. Study – devotion of time and energy to learning

 

Bible study is at 7 pm on Mondays and noon on Wednesdays! The discipline of  study goes beyond increasing one’s Bible knowledge. The Spirit is inviting you into a deeper understanding of some aspect of your spiritual life and development. Perhaps you can spend intentional time in conversation about questions you’ve held for a long time. Maybe this is the time to slowly read the book you’ve always meant to or learn more about a saint or church father or mother who piques your interest. Study can take many shapes and our faith has a wealth of mysteries that invite investigation, but never yield mastery. Study means learning and action, together, but individually and in community. 

 

For kids: study means learning more about God. This might mean talking with a grownup more or spending time reading your Bible or another book about God. 

 

Bible verse: Psalm 119:105

 

11. Submission – embracing humility and yielding to the will of God

 

Submission gets a bad rap because it is a) easily abused and b) not really something any of us want to do. 

First, it is not submission to remain in a situation that causes harm to one’s body or spirit or to allow one’s self to be pressured into actions that are clearly counter to the will of God for resurrection, restoration, and renewal. 

Secondly, humility is not the same as humiliation. Humility has more in common with humbleness. It means a willingness to consider the perspective of others, to be circumspect in decision-making, and to allow that one might be wrong. 

The discipline of submission is an invitation to reflection and stillness in a world that wants immediacy and action. Embracing submission means resisting being rushed and seeking the will of God first in all situations. All situations. This discipline will likely mean grinding your teeth, clenching fists, and saying, “Okay” under one’s breath. Remember to relax your muscles and drop your shoulders from your ears. 

 

For kids: submission means listening to and respecting people who are responsible for taking care of us. If they are doing their job of care, you are called to do your job of listening to and respecting them. 

 

Bible verse: Matthew 6:33

12. Worship – a demonstration of reverence and adoration of God

 

Similar to sabbath (above), the discipline of worship goes beyond just more frequent church attendance. A call to more worship in one’s life is an invitation to look for and mark opportunities for prayer, praise, and confessions. An attitude of worship extends beyond the physical sanctuary into the fullness of God’s creation. Embracing the discipline of worship might include keeping a hymnal or prayerbook handy. Learning a number of new Bible verses. Being willing to make a moment awkward and holy by insisting on prayer- whether in supplication or thanksgiving. This may also be an invitation to participate in a new or different way in the worship life of the community (church). 

 

For kids: worship is how we show our love to God- by singing, praying, reading the Bible, and sharing the experience with others. 

 

Bible verse: Revelation 4:9-11