Salvation to All

“Good news” is a familiar phrase for Christians, but in the world outside the bible the Greek word we translate as “bringing . . . good news” (Luke 2:10) was used to announce a new emperor. The Emperor Augustus commands that the world be counted, and those with the least are required to do the most to fulfill the requirements of those in power. The scene at the manger, however, is anything but imperial. In Bethlehem, God’s power is revealed in weakness, and the people who count include even the migrant laborers keeping watch over their flocks by night.

  

What does it mean this Christmas for us to hear that God is found in the hidden, the neglected, the immodest places of the world? What does it mean for us this year to know that when God takes a census, all the people of the world matter as much as any citizen of any empire?

The Nativity of Our Lord is the story of God’s reign spilling over the boundaries set by the powerful people of the world and into the margins. Dark nights and fragile infants interrupted by migrant laborers and choirs of angels point to a vision of the world as it should be, where “being connected” to the right people is replaced by being interconnected through a spirit of unity that brings us all out of the margins and into the center of life. In the infant Jesus, God declares a new standard for power, a word of hope, “good news” for all who are fragile, all who are weak, all who are overlooked, all who are despised, all who are abandoned, all who are homeless, all who are hovering between life and death. The festival of the incarnation is indeed “salvation to all” (Titus 2:11).

From Sundays & Seasons

Your Kingdom Come on Earth

Luke 3:1-6

1 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2 during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
 “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
 ‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
  make his paths straight.
 5 Every valley shall be filled,
  and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
 and the crooked shall be made straight,
  and the rough ways made smooth;
 6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’ ”

Luke sets the preaching of John the Baptist clearly in the midst of the political and religious environment of his day. We are told the names of the emperor, governor, and other political rulers of the day. They are the ones who are supposed to care for the welfare of the citizens of their territories. Although John gave his message while he was in the wilderness, it was intended to have its impact in the farms, villages, and cities where the ordinary and the powerful live out their daily lives. John is not satisfied with the way things are, and his words help prepare us for the coming of one who will turn the world upside down. John’s words tell us to examine our own lives and the world around us. We should not be complacent in the face of injustice, but instead seek forgiveness and strive for lives that bear fruit according to God’s vision for the world.

We all have the potential to “over-spiritualize” the Bible and our faith, so that they become disconnected from the real needs of the world around us. This potential can be even greater in the days around Christmas, as we may seek to justify over-spending on gifts, excessive eating and drinking, or simply desire to escape from the difficulties of ordinary life for a time. John provides a warning about ignoring the truth about our sinfulness and the brokenness in the world. But John also repeats the promise that God ultimately will not settle for the way things are in the world, and that God’s salvation will be made known in the one who is to come: Jesus.

from Sundays & Seasons

Love Redefines Power and Dominion

In fairy tales, kings live in a castle, usually located on a hill (a safe place), surrounded by a moat for the utmost protection for the king and family. Modern political leaders often have more technologically advanced means to provide a similar level of safety against would-be attackers. Because of these preconceived notions of what kings are, hearers will need to be reminded that Jesus redefined the title “king.” The appointed psalm says, “The waters have lifted up, O Lord, . . . the waters have lifted up their pounding waves. Mightier than the sound of many waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea, mightier is the Lord who dwells on high” (Ps. 93:3-4). While a king might have the ability to sail atop a roaring, chaotic sea, Christ the King is one who stills the waves (Mark 4:35-41).

  

In John’s gospel for November 24, 2024 - Christ the King Sunday - Jesus says “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth” (John 18:37). Perhaps the ‘this’ Jesus is referring to is a motioning with his hands to the cross, the most clear demonstration of God’s love for humanity and the truest definition of kingship. Jesus redefines what power is and what people think God’s power looks like to fight evil and suffering in the world. Jesus does not resist the way of the cross with force.

Rather than protecting himself from harm in any way, the vulnerable King Jesus dares to demonstrate God’s love for all people. Jesus does not run from pain, anguish, or suffering. Rather, the risen Jesus, “the ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev. 1:5), rushes to the places of disaster and suffering in the world. Jesus goes where storms are ravaging and have ravaged lives and brings life and calm into the chaos.

From Sundays and Seasons

Who then is this? Our only help.

As the disciples set out together in the boat with the sleeping Jesus, a great windstorm arose so that the boat became swamped.

  

As we set out in mission together in the ship of Christ’s church, how many storms arise! The elements of chaos still seem to wreak havoc in our lives, communities, and in the church—and we become terrified. Though Christ is present the disciples and we ourselves begin to doubt his care and power: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” His presence seems far too weak to help us, though it is exactly in this vulnerable weakness that Christ shows his almighty power.

   

Jesus wakes at the disciples’ cries and rebukes the wind and waves—they are no match for his command. The terrifying calm that follows demonstrates his divine power over all the chaos that continually threatens us. And we find ourselves awe-struck before the living God who has met us in our weakness and yet overcome it.

   

The Christ who sleeps in the boat is the same Christ who hangs on the cross, seemingly helpless. Yet the helpless one is none other than the all-powerful Lord God. “Who then is this?” but the Lord of all! The God who in the beginning brought order to the chaotic face of the deep now in Christ brings peace as we face the storm. So why are we afraid? Have we still no faith in this helpless Lord who is our only help?

from Sundays and Seasons

Baptismal Water Is Thicker than Blood

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my rothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

Mark 20:31-35

Many, perhaps most, subcultures in North America affirm the belief that “blood is thicker than water.” Even when our commitment to family is too often served through hand-wringing sentiment over the so-called decline of the family or pandered to by politicians seeking to prove their “family values” credentials, we like to think of ourselves as loyal to our own kin. Family comes first! In the gospel, Jesus sharply, alarmingly, contradicts the norm; he snubs his nuclear family, his blood.

  

We discover that Jesus’ family is not defined by objective or biological categories—DNA tests, adoption records, or custody papers—but rather by function: Jesus’ family consists of those whom God has called into mission and are engaged in that mission.

Bringing a child of God from birth to maturity of faith requires many things, among them food, shelter, new birth, story, discipline, catechism, and an enduring hope in the one who raised Jesus from the dead. It is a joy to be celebrated when these gifts are provided by those who live in one’s own household—parents, grandparents, extended families. But Jesus reminds us (with an echo from Paul) that even when those nearest to us thwart God’s purposes, we “do not lose heart” but trust that God will call and create a household “not made with hands,” where God’s purposes for us will be nurtured and we will become like the one who “does the will of God.”

There is a strong challenge here to Christian communities to keep their focus on the mission of God and not be tempted to confuse God’s mission with what’s “best” for nations or communities or (even) nuclear families.

From Sundays and Seasons