Thursday, February 2, 2012

Sermon for the Festival of the Presentation

I preached today for the seminary chapel service. February 2 is the Festival of the Presentation, so the Gospel text was Luke 2:22-40. You can read the lesson and my sermon below.


Luke 2:22-40
When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying,
“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.”

And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.


Sermon
God’s grace and peace be with you all.

As we gather today in worship, we are celebrating the festival of the Presentation. The Gospel of Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph, in accordance with the law, brought Jesus to the temple forty days after Jesus’ birth. They brought their sacrifice—two birds, because they could not afford the lamb—again following the instructions of the law. Luke is careful to emphasize the piety and proper obedience of this family.


But Luke is also eager to demonstrate the unique and extraordinary character of this family, and of course the infant Jesus most of all. Mary and Joseph are approached, even accosted, by the Spirit-driven Simeon. Simeon has a prophetic message to share about Jesus. The prophet Anna also speaks about the child in the Temple. As Luke’s readers, we can have no doubt that Jesus is the Messiah.

I can’t help but think that Mary was getting tired of strangers who had dramatic messages about her son. But Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph were amazed at what was being said. Certainly this was unexpected. Most first-born sons presented in the Temple did not rate a prophetic statement, much less two prophetic statements.

In the midst of ritual, in the familiar patterns of religious life, in the midst of the ordinary, God’s word breaks through in extraordinary ways. In bringing their firstborn son to the Temple to present him to God and make the expected sacrifice, Mary and Joseph are surprised by unexpected encounters with the divine through the prophetic utterances of Simeon and Anna.


God breaks in to the ordinary, the predictable, the expected. The same thing happens today. As I read this text, an example jumped immediately to my mind:

Three weeks ago, when the appointed time had come, and in accordance with the law, my husband and I went up to Denver to present ourselves to our candidacy committee, as it is written. Ordinary. Predictable. Expected.

Those of us who have gone through—or are still going through—the candidacy process know that it can at times seem painfully bureaucratic. We know why it’s necessary. But that doesn’t mean we always feel the presence of God in the process. It feels like law and not gospel, if I can use those terms: a requirement and not a blessing. The same could be said of the academic requirements of our seminary education, or even the practices of our liturgy.

In the face of our boredom and discouragement, the Festival of the Presentation tells us something quite remarkable and important: in this story, the law and the gospel are inextricably bound together. Mary and Joseph go to the Temple in accordance with God’s law, and they find there God’s good news. God’s divine action comes through the ordinary, predictable, expected actions of religious ritual. When Steve and I went to Denver to meet the candidacy committee, we met God there, too.


This is the promise for us in the Festival of the Presentation: the promise that, when we come to God in ordinary religious rituals, God will respond with the extraordinary. The promise that, when we are bored by predictability, God will surprise us. The promise that, when we feel like we are just going through the motions and doing what is expected, God will overwhelm us with the unexpected.

May we all come before God and be surprised. May we all experience God’s word breaking through our predictable rituals with a message of good news. May we all find our boredom and discouragement overcome by God’s unexpected, life-changing word. Amen.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Approved!

I'm happy to let you know that I've put another major step behind me in this journey to first call. My husband and I flew out to Denver for our approval interviews this past weekend. If you recall, approval is the final step of the candidacy process which began way back before we entered seminary. Last summer, after we had finished internship, we wrote our approval essay. Then in the fall, we had interviews with the faculty, who made a recommendation that we should be approved for ordination. Finally, we met with the candidacy committee for the approval interview. At the end of all that, the committee made a final decision to approve us for ordination!

Now we really move from the candidacy process into the assignment process. We join the group of seminarians who are approved for ordination and are now awaiting assignment and first call. In essence, we are the pool of candidates from which the bishops will draw for their first call pastors. As I've described in my earlier posts about the assignment process, we have submitted our paperwork, including our preferences, but we don't yet have any information about where we will be going.

We find out our regional assignment (remember this map?) on February 22. Sometime after that, we will be assigned to a synod within that region. Then we can start working with the bishop of that synod and her or his staff to look at congregational profiles. Interviews with congregations should follow, and after a congregation extends a letter of call, the ordination can be scheduled. How long that process will take depends on a lot of factors, including the availability of first calls and the pace at which the congregation chooses to move.

As always, stay tuned for further updates about the first call process!

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Supply Preaching

I supplied at a congregation in Maryland this morning. Here's my sermon, based on the gospel reading from John 1.


Good morning. I am so glad to be with you all this morning. I pray for God’s grace and peace among us in our worship.
Last week, you may remember that the gospel reading was from Mark. And Mark talked about a familiar figure: John the Baptist. John is one of those characters you learn about as a kid in Sunday School, right? You remember him. He lived in the desert, ate locusts and honey, dressed in camel hair. Told people to repent of their sins and baptized them in the River Jordan. Eventually, he baptized Jesus, too, which was the kick-off for Jesus’ ministry. That’s John the Baptist.
Or rather, that’s the John the Baptist we heard about in Mark’s Gospel last week. Today, we’re reading from the Gospel of John, and this version of John the Baptist might seem like a totally different guy. For one thing, he’s never called “John the Baptist” in this Gospel. And although he does baptize people, that’s not really the essential thing here. What’s important for this Gospel is what we hear in the first verses of our reading: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light.” A witness. He came as a witness. The whole purpose of what John did was to be a witness to the light which was coming into the world.
In our Gospel reading for today, I think it would be better to talk about “John the Witness” than “John the Baptist.” In this Gospel, John’s primary role is to witness to Jesus Christ. And that’s exactly what he does. He tells the priests and Levites who question him, “Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” John is acting as a witness to the one who is coming, the light, Jesus.


I want us to take a closer look at how John the Witness fulfills his role, how he testifies to Jesus’ coming into the world. The priests and Levites question John about his identity. They ask him if he is the Messiah, the hoped-for king of the Jews. John says, “I am not the Messiah.” They ask him if he is Elijah, the prophet who was expected to return before the Messiah came. John says, “I am not.” They ask him if he is the prophet, referring to a “prophet like Moses” whose appearance was also predicted. John says, “No.” Again and again, John defines himself in the negative, by saying who he is not. Finally, John admits that his identity is the voice of one crying out in the wilderness. But his identity, his role in this story about Jesus Christ, is primarily defined as the “I Am Not.”
Why does this matter? I think we are supposed to pay attention to John the “I Am Not,” because Jesus in John’s Gospel is the “I AM.” All those beautiful statements of Jesus: “I am the bread of life,” “I am the light of the world,” “I am the true vine,” “I am the good shepherd,” “I am the resurrection and the life”—all of these I AM statements come from the Gospel of John. Jesus is the “I AM,” and John the Witness is the “I Am Not.”


At the heart of it, John is telling the priests, “I am not God.” John is telling all of us, “I am not God.” And that’s a message we all need to hear. John is not God. I am not God. None of you is God. You know what I have to say to that? Thank God! My pastor once told me that every morning, when you look in the mirror, feeling anxious about the day ahead and all of your responsibilities, you should say to yourself, “There is only one savior of this world. And it’s not me.” Thank God. Thank God that we’re not God. The weight of the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders, or mine, or John’s. We don’t have to save the world. We don’t have to carry that burden. And thank God for that, because we can’t carry that burden. The savior, the resurrection and the life, the good shepherd, the light of the world—Jesus is all of those things. Jesus is the “I AM.” We are the “I Am Not.”

But if we’re not God, then who are we?
John freely admitted that he was not God. But John still had an important calling: he was a witness, a witness to the light of Christ that was coming into the world. We’re called to be witnesses, too. God doesn’t ask us to save the world. God doesn’t ask us to be in charge. God doesn’t ask us to be God. God asks us, calls us, to be witnesses like John. Why are we supposed to witness? To testify that Jesus is the light of the world, and we’re not. To testify that Jesus is the Messiah, and we’re not. To testify that Jesus is the one the whole world has been hoping for, aching for, longing for. Just like John, we are called to share that good news. We are called to be witnesses.


We’re in the season of Advent this month. We’re getting ready for Christmas and all that entails. As soon as we finished cooking those turkeys and mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving, we set out to buy Christmas gifts. We have to make sure we have something for everyone on our list, wrap all those gifts, put them in the mail. We have to decorate our houses, put up our Christmas trees, climb around on our roofs with lights and reindeer and Santa Claus. We have to make sure everything is clean for family visiting, stock the refrigerator, plan the holiday menu. We have to do so much to get ready for Christmas. But I think there’s one more thing we have to do. Each of us has to stop, and sit still, and say, “I am not God.”
Getting ready for Christmas is wonderful, but it’s not essential. The fate of the world is not at stake in our Christmas planning. In the season of Advent, we need to remember what’s really essential: that the light of the world came into the world, that Jesus is Christ, that God has come down to live with us because God loves us so much. We are not God. But we are called to be witnesses to the amazing love and grace God has given us. Amen.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Paperwork: Finished!

December 1 was the big due date. All our assignment paperwork (Form A, Form B, Form RLP) is turned in to the ELCA and out of our hands. Now the bishops will have the chance to learn who we are and whether they think we'd be a good fit for their synods.

The next big date for us is January 13 and 14, which is when we'll have our approval interviews for the Rocky Mountain Synod. On February 22, we'll find out our regional assignments. Check back here to find out more information as we get closer to first call!