Through the Door Into Something New

Text: John 1:29-42

The season of Epiphany, which we are in right now, can get a little lost in the church year. Coming between Christmas and Lent, it is a curious, transition space with John the Baptizer, the call of the disciples, and early teaching and miracles. In this season, we are asked to look at the same world we’ve always known and see something entirely different.

That need for epiphany- a new way of seeing happens for the people in today’s gospel. John, son of Zechariah, is standing by the Jordan, at the edge of the wilderness. He’s doing his thing: wearing odd clothes, eating strange food, preaching repentance, dunking people in the muddy water, challenging the status quo. People are coming to see him because he is interesting, but they know what to expect as they come. One day, John looks up and sees Jesus walking toward him.

John doesn’t just say, "Hey, there’s my cousin." He says something that would have greatly surprised his listeners: "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world."

To understand why this was such a shock, and why it signaled a massive "something new" was happening, we must look backward. When John calls Jesus the "Lamb," he is invoking one of the deepest, oldest memories of the Jewish people: the Passover.

Recall the shape of the Exodus story. The Israelites were enslaved in Egypt. They were stuck in a cycle of generational trauma, forced labor, and hopelessness. Through Moses, God promised freedom. Freedom, liberation, a new beginning requires a marking—a boundary between the old life of slavery and the new life of the wilderness.

In that first Passover, the role of the lamb was specific and visceral:

Each family took a lamb, "without blemish." It was an asset, a sign of their livelihood. After killing the lamb, they were told to take the blood of that lamb and smear it on the doorposts of their homes. That blood was a sign. It identified who belonged to the God of life, to the covenant of life. When the plague of death passed over Egypt, those marked by the lamb were spared.

 

The lamb was the bridge. It was the price of the exit ramp from Egypt. Without the lamb, there was no exodus. Without the lamb, they remained slaves.

So, when John points at Jesus and says, "There is the Lamb," he is telling the crowd: The exit ramp is here. The time of enslavement to your old ways, your old habits, and your old systems is over. God is once again trying to lead you into freedom, into a new way of being, into a bondage of mercy and justice.

The hardest part of faith—and frankly, the hardest part of being human—is recognizing when one way has served its purpose and is no longer doing what it was meant to do.  In that time, we often cast about and resist change, even when we know in our heart that it is time to be open to something different and, even, new. 

The Baptizer is the ultimate model for this. John had a successful ministry! He had disciples. People were coming to him, and he was pointing them to a new way of living in and for God.  But the moment he sees Jesus, he points away from himself. He realizes his role was to prepare, not to possess.

How do we know when it’s time to do something new? How do we recognize our own "Lamb of God" moments?

In the text, two of John’s disciples hear him speak and they immediately start following Jesus. They don’t wait for a three-year strategic plan. They feel a tug. Usually, when God is calling us to something new, there is a holy restlessness. The old "Egypt", the old addiction, the old habit, the old way of relating to friends, family, or neighbors, starts to feel cramped. The space becomes tight because your capacity is bigger.

When Jesus realizes he’s being followed, he turns around and asks a question to anyone who would follow him: "What are you looking for?" 

He doesn’t ask, "What do you want to do?" or "Where do you want to be in five years?” He asks about the hunger of their hearts. To do something new, you have to be honest about what you are actually seeking. Are you seeking comfort? Or do you want to be in the company of the "Lamb" who changes everything?

The disciples answer with a question: "Where are you staying?" And Jesus gives them the only answer that matters: "Come and see." Newness rarely comes with a map. It comes with an invitation to walk. You don't get the clarity beforeyou start moving; you get the clarity while you are in motion. The disciples stayed with him that day. They sat in his space. They listened to his breath. They didn’t learn everything in the first day, but they gained enough wisdom and clarity to stay for a second day and so on. Learning the shape of something new takes time and trust.  

There is a beautiful, quiet detail at the end of this passage. Andrew, one of those two disciples, goes and finds his brother, Simon Peter. He tells him, "We have found the Messiah."

Think about the courage that took. Andrew had to leave John —his teacher, his mentor, his "safe" religious home—to follow a carpenter from Nazareth. Andrew had to trust that this Lamb was indeed a doorpost to pass through for life, for freedom, for God’s future of hope for the world.

We each must ask ourselves: what is my Egypt? What is the thing that is keeping you from the new place to which God is calling? Is it a grudge you’ve held for years? Is it your judgment of people whose lives do not look like yours? Is it the idea that the church or the town or the community should always be the same? Imagine what it would have meant for the enslaved Israelites to have been more afraid of the unknown than they were of Pharaoh or the horror of his rule.

John stood at the edge of the water and had the grace to say, "He must increase, but I must decrease." He recognized that the Lamb had arrived to take the sin of the world—including our corporate sin of resisting the call of the will of God.

The Lamb of the first Passover was about protection for a night in order to make the journey to freedom. The Lamb of God that John points to is about liberation for a lifetime. Jesus remains on the move, speaking to us and asking, "What are you looking for?"

If we indeed want to follow where he goes, if we indeed want to be like Jesus, then when he says, “Come and see”- like Andrew and Peter before us, we go. The blood is on the doorpost. The way is open. The new thing has already begun.

Amen

 

 

While to That Rock I'm Clinging (Epiphany 2025)

I recently read a book that contained this line, “God can only be drilled out of us, not into us. I can see that now, from a distance.” God can only be drilled out of us, not into us. The author was discussing the griefs and losses of her life, but also her awareness of the larger scope of the movement and power that carries us all, even in the difficult seasons. You do not survive these seasons by thinking there is no God unless the idea of a God who cares, who is slow to anger, who is abounding in steadfast love has been drilled out of you. 

How does the idea of God get “drilled out of a person”? In today’s scripture passages, we have an example of people who have held on to the majesty and mystery of God, even in times of trouble. Then we also have a person whose awareness of the Divine has been drilled out by a desire to retain power and worldly influence. 

The magi or wise men were probably Persian astrologers or maybe Zoroastrian priests from the same region, modern-day Iran. They watched the stars and other natural phenomena for signs of what was happening in the world. When we say, “they followed a star”, what we typically mean is that they observed an unusual astronomical event and connected it to the constellation in which it was formed. The “star” gave them the understanding of where to start looking for a new king in the world. 

While we do not know how many magi there actually were, we can assume that these are people who had full lives. They had family members die. They made prophecies or predictions that didn’t pan out. They were affected by the decisions of their governments and the rulers of city-states around them.  They had been through droughts, floods, crop failures, animal losses, and financial difficulties. Yet they were still open to seeing the Divine in the world around them. Despite hardships, their awareness of the power of holiness was not drilled out of them. Instead, their understanding of might and majesty carried them through the difficulties, such that they were still able to trust in signs and wonders. The appearing of the sign that led them to Jesus was not the first epiphany of their life, it was in a long line of ways that the power of God had been demonstrated to them. 

Similarly, the author of Isaiah 60 trusts in God’s power and providence, even in a time of pain. This author is writing to the community of Judah, returning from the Babylonian exile to a destroyed Jerusalem. He is not giving false cheer to those who will receive his words. Instead, he is crafting a narrative of inspiration and guidance rooted in the hope of God’s full restoration. Such a restoration will begin with a rejuvenation of the people’s joy and then a restored Jerusalem that will draw people from other nations to the glory of the Lord. The pain of exile has not drilled faith in God’s presence out of this prophet. Rather, a deep awareness of that presence has sustained him through the trials. 

Neither the writer of Isaiah 60 nor the Persian magi many generations later expect lives without suffering. They have accepted that this world is not what it should be or what it will be, but even in the middle of all that is not right, God is still good. God is still providing. God is sustaining. God is revealing compassion, mercy, and justice- even if it takes a while from the human perspective. 

On the other hand, Herod the Great seems to have had trust in God drilled out of him. Even though he rebuilt parts of and greatly expanded the Temple in Jerusalem and he identified himself religiously as a Jew, he did many things that show how he valued his own understanding of the world over the mystery of God. In order to gain and retain his power, he made alliances with Roman leaders, often against his closer neighbors. He had members of his family killed when they threatened his power and operations. He was unfamiliar with scripture and reacted strongly to information he perceived to be detrimental to his reign, namely the slaughter of children he thought might be this “new king” whom the magi sought. 

Herod had a vision of success for himself and for Judea. As far as we can tell, he did not pause to think or meditate on whether his image aligned with God’s will for him or for the region. Herod wanted the power that the world offered and made his choices accordingly. In order to achieve and retain that type of power, God’s truth had to be edged out- further and further from the center of Herod’s mind and heart. If any awareness of the Divine remained, it was a tiny flame in the corner of his mind, occasionally demanding that scribes or priests affirm his decisions, rather than help him seek the correct ones. 

God is often drilled out of lives in our own time in the same way. People seek confirmation of what they want to do, rather than spend time discerning the will of God. If the will of God puts us out of step with what we consider the right thing according to our traditions, habits, beliefs, or understanding, we manipulate what we need to in order to assure ourselves of correct understanding and action. 

Worse, God is often drilled out of us in our times of trouble. Having come to expect God to function as a holy vending machine, (we put in prayers and get out the requested item), we flounder when things are painful or difficult or beyond the worst thing we could have imagined. We blame God and we slowly drift away from a Creator who, in our minds, failed to stop these horrors from happening. 

The author of Isaiah 60 and the magi saw the Holy as the power that sustained them in times of trouble. Their visions of hope and a future were not toxic positivity- “Everything will turn out fine”. Those visions were, instead, the rock to which they clung when everything else was sinking sand. They did not console themselves with the idea that “everything happens for a reason”. Instead, they refused to let the events of the world drill out of them the faith that God is bigger, more gracious, more generous, and more merciful than anything that could occur to them or around them. 

Herod believed everything happened for a reason. And he was the reason. When there was a threat to his power or his influence or his belongings, Herod happened. There was no room for Divine mystery or holy awe in the world that he was trying to tightly control. His self-understanding left no room for the expansion of the gift of faith in God. Herod, like so many others, didn’t seek to stop believing in God. He just didn’t have room for him in the midst of everything he believed was more important. 

The start of a new calendar year often invites us into deep reflection. We think about how we want the next season of our life to look, what do we want it to contain, how do we want it to play out. In this contemplation, the Holy Spirit reminds us to make and hold space for how God will be revealed to us, in us, and through us in this season. How is the love of Christ compelling us to show up for others? What are we being urged to learn, to let go, or to let come? Are we part of how God’s presence is being revealed in the world, or do we have a hand in how God’s truth is being drilled out? 

It is important to remember that Herod was constantly engaged in rebuilding the Temple, an action that outwardly appeared devotional, but was actually about power. Drilling God out of minds and hearts correlates with a desire and effort to be powerful and influential in the eyes of the world, whether in your family, among your friends, toward your neighbors, or throughout the community. Actions that claim to be religious are not necessarily of God unless they clearly and thoughtfully align with God’s revealed actions through history and especially through Jesus. 

In this Epiphany season, which will last to the end of February, pay quiet attention to God’s work all around you. Pray that you may be aligned with it and that we may be aligned together. Let us say yes to the Spirit’s invitation to be a significant part of how the light of the world is revealed to all nations and right here in our own homes. Let us be aware of God’s presence and a sign of that presence to others- part of how the love of the Divine is anchored in this world, a love that cannot drift away. 

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

 

At What Cost?

Scripture: John 2:1-12

A sermon is best presented as a smooth stone, something the Holy Spirit has worked on in me and then I present to you, with the Spirit’s help. You can then turn that stone over and over, seeing how it reflects brightness and absorbs shadows.  

A good sermon has heft, as well as tiny flaws- keeping you focused on the perfect God and not the imperfect preacher. If the standard for a good sermon is a smooth stone, as I just said, then today- I do not have a good sermon. Today’s words, with no less help from the Holy Spirit, have a ragged edge. This sharpness has snagged at me this week and resists polishing. 

 

It is not lack of preparation that has retained this unpolished roughness; it is the difficulty of the question at hand. The texts of the day bring us to a question that cannot be answered in this life, not without great risk to integrity and faithfulness. This is my content warning. While there are some smooth edges ahead, this sermon is more of a cutting tool than a polished comfort object. 

 

When Jesus’ ministry formally begins in the gospel, according to John, he is at a wedding with his disciples and his mother. In Matthew, Jesus preaches, heals, and casts out demons. In Mark, Jesus preaches, casts out demons, and heals. Same actions, different order. In Luke, Jesus preaches, escapes a death threat (Luke 4:28-30), casts out demons, and heals people. A little extra excitement there, but same story. 

 

Why, then, does John start with this sign of water into wine?

 

A small segue into vocabulary: The author of the fourth gospel does not use the term miracle, or any similar word, in this book. Instead, the writer employs the term “sign”. Water into wine, healing of a blind man, speaking to a Samaritan woman, raising Lazarus from the dead- all of these are signs of God’s presence in Jesus and in the world. They are not miracles- one-off demonstrations of power. They are signs- indicators of the holy in the world and divine power at work. John 1:16 notes “from his fullness, we have all received grace upon grace”. The author does not use the word grace again but shows what it looks like through the signs Jesus works in the world. 

 

This sign, the sign of up to 180 gallons of good wine, is more than an indicator that God understands hospitality and reveals that understanding through Jesus. The sign of water into wine illustrates two very specific verses from John. 

 

John 1:18 No one has ever seen God. God the only Son, who is at the Father’s side, has made God known.

 

John 10:10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

 

The sign of water into wine is a clear revelation through Jesus of the nature of God and the divine desire for us to have abundant life. God’s will is not for any person or other aspect of creation to scrape by a meager existence with little joy and rare celebration. God’s intention, as revealed through 180 gallons of good wine, is for us to live well, in harmony together, and with our needs met, so much so that we shall not want. 

 

None of this is difficult so far, right?  If I stop here, we have a smooth stone to hold. 

 

… but I’m going to go on. (You’re not surprised.) 

 

Here is the jagged edge in this story, the part that will not let go of me, the place where I continue to wrestle for a blessing in the hopes that I might limp away. 

 

When Jesus’ mother asks him to do something about the dwindling wine supply, he tells her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” And his mother tells the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” 

 

His hour has not yet come. 

His hour has not yet come. 

His hour has not yet come. 

 

The gospel according to John is divided into two sections, the book of signs, which goes through the raising of Lazarus, and the book of glory, which goes through the post-resurrection appearances. In John, Christ’s glory is revealed in his faithfulness through death and God’s same faithfulness through the resurrection, thwarting death’s alleged power. When Jesus speaks of his hour coming, he is referring to this time of glory. Jesus knows, as does his mother, that once God’s presence is revealed in him, human resistance to God’s grace and glory will begin. Are 180 gallons of wine worth that risk? The beginning of what will stir up anger, rejection, and plots to kill him until one succeeds? 

 

His own mother says yes. She knows what her yes means. She knows the cost of this sign of God’s presence. She can look at her adult son, seeing the baby he was, the child, the young man… and still she says it is time. And she knows the cost. 

 

Jesus’ death is not inevitable in terms of being required. It is inevitable because people resist grace, stonewall against repentance, and will run toward false gods like a sense of control, political power in this world, and judgment of others before they will yield to divine mercy and abundant grace. 

 

This water into wine came at a high cost. From the moment the steward sips the wine and calls the bridegroom, the clock (sundial?) has begun toward human rejection of Christ and an attempt to kill God’s presence in the world. 

 

This is the jagged edge of this sermon. Do we truly ever consider what grace costs God? 

 

I have received some excellent questions lately about how we can discern if something that happens is from God. The tension in this question comes from the fact that just because God permits something to occur does not mean that God caused the thing to occur. I will say that again: just because God permits something to occur does not mean that God caused the thing to occur. 

 

In John, the word we use for world is actually cosmos. As in, “for God so loved the cosmos”. God is present in the cosmos. God is active in the cosmos. God is still speaking in the cosmos. 

 

But at what cost to God? 

 

When we are trying to discern what God does and how God acts, we must weigh the cost to the divine, even though we cannot fully understand it. 

 

We know that God in Jesus was willing to begin the dangerous journey to the cross with 180 gallons of good wine. Each healing, each sermon, each exorcism from there on out was a step toward human rejection and divine suffering because of brokenness. Yet, God considered it worth the cost. 

 

What does it cost God to heal some people through death, rather than through medicine or miracles? 

 

What does it cost God when people count material possessions as blessings, but reject the teachings of Jesus about caring for others? 

 

What does it cost God to pour out love for creation, but to see human beings only partially embrace their vocation of stewardship of the earth? 

 

What does it cost God to know that Jesus promised to draw all people to himself, and yet we fight over who is in and who is out? 

 

What does it cost God to witness some people being healed because of their access to medical care, while others suffer or live in fear? 

 

What does it cost God to desire, deeply, abundant life for all of us and to watch us hesitate, hedge, and hem and haw about irrelevant things? 

 

What does it cost God to have brought humanity to deeper and deeper understanding about the wonders and mysteries of all that is, only to see us reject science, medicine, and reason for our own misunderstandings? 

 

What does it cost God to bring forth grace upon grace, in creation, in our relationships, in possibility- over and over, year after year, until the end only God knows? 

 

This is the jagged edge of this sermon for me. It is the side of the solid rock which I cannot smooth out for myself or for you. 

 

What does it cost God? 

 

I have no idea. 

 

I cannot imagine. 

And, in this area, I am not willing to risk being wrong. 

 

All I comprehend, in the end, with this rough edge in my hand, is this small balm: 

 

There are costs to God, beyond our knowing. 

 

And yet God charges us nothing. 

And that alone is the only good sermon. 

 

Amen.