Power in the Word

Sermon preached Sunday, January 27, 2019, the Third Sunday after Epiphany, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

The Word of God has power. I don’t know if you experienced anything different this Sunday, attempting to really listen, instead of reading along. I think hearing the words, spoken aloud, does something. I think hearing the Word of God, not just reading it, can have a pretty remarkable effect on a person. After all, we hear over and over again stories in the Bible about the Word of God coming to a person and something major happening.

Thinking all the way back to the book of Genesis, to the creation of the cosmos: God’s wind, God’s breath, moves over the water. God’s word creates: “Let there be a vault between the waters…Let the water under the heavens be gathered into one place…Let the earth produce growing things…Let there be lights in the vault of the heavens to separate day from night…Let…Let…Let…” God’s creation is done through God’s word.

Later, God calls to Moses from a burning bush. God tells Moses he is called to lead the Israelites out of slavery into freedom. Moses objects, multiple times. He doesn’t believe he’s the right person for the job. He had been a part of Pharaoh’s family and asserted he could not speak well at all. God hears this and it changes nothing. God says to Moses, “Who is it that gives [humans] speech? …Is it not I, the Lord? Go now; I shall help you to speak and show you what to say.” God promises to provide the words of release to Moses.

And then, throughout the rest of the Hebrew Bible and through John the Baptist, God’s word comes to humanity through the mouths of the prophets. These people, charged with announcing God’s word to the people of Israel, to kings and rulers, to anyone who will hear, appear over and over again because God’s word is never done. “Thus says the Lord your God…” “…This is the word of the Lord of Hosts.” “Listen, Israel, to these words that the Lord has spoken against you.” “This word of the Lord came to me…The Lord God says…” God’s word, creating change, or repentance, or hope, or comfort. God’s word, for God’s people.

And then there is the first reading for this morning. We don’t often get to hear stories from the book of Nehemiah. This is the only time a reading from this book is assigned for a Sunday morning, so it’s probably not familiar, even if you’ve been going to church every Sunday for your whole life! The Israelites had been exiled to Babylon and Nehemiah tells part of the story of their return to Jerusalem. The city walls are rebuilt and it is a time of rejoicing because the people have been restored to the land.

This story about Ezra is beautiful to me. No one has heard the old stories and law read from their scrolls since the exile began. The people are longing to hear the words they are unable to read for themselves. They are desperate to hear what God has to say to them. It has been a generation of prophets urging them to be hopeful and steadfast, but it has been a struggle. And when Ezra reads the words, they weep. They may be overjoyed. They may feel convicted by the words of the law. The word is so important, so precious, so beloved—and so powerful.

When we add Jesus into the mix, things get even better. Jesus, after all, is called the “Word.” He is God’s will, God’s action, embodied and enfleshed in human skin.

When Jesus encounters the written word of God, like we hear in the Gospel of Luke, the connection becomes impossible to miss: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:16-19) These words are fulfilled today. These words are fulfilled in the person of Jesus.

In Jesus the poor hear good news, captives are released, sight is recovered, the oppressed are freed and all receive the favor of God. And what does that look like? What does that really mean in the world around us? Of course, there are the literal meanings, but that is such a narrow understanding of what God can do.

If God is preaching good news to the poor, then God is saying that all are worthy of dignity, respect, and the basic resources needed for life. What else would be “good news” to someone who has no agency and no wealth?

Release to the captives and sight to the blind: could these two be connected? Release from everything that could hold someone captive: misguided judgment, grudges, guilt, shame, fear. And sight to the blind—perhaps even a lack of sight could keep someone captive, keep someone unable to see that their neighbor is connected to them or that the stranger down the street is more like them than they think.

The oppressed go free: the oppressed receive the knowledge that they are not “less than” or simply victims of “bad luck.” The oppressed receive the good news that they just as important, valuable and precious as anyone else…and any of us who find ourselves in the role of oppressor receive the good news that we don’t have to stay in that role—that we can take action to end oppression, to lift up and honor our siblings and, in the words of Isaiah, see the year of the Lord’s favor.

It could look like any of those things…and it could even look like the reading from First Corinthians. In the words of Paul, “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ…we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free…” (1 Corinthians 12:12-13) As Paul writes, we are as varied and diverse as the human body. Think about your spleen and your eye. Do they have that much in common? Do they look alike? Do they serve the same function? Would you miss one more than the other if it were to vanish one day? But in God’s eyes, each individual part is special and unique and vital to the body as a whole.

When Jesus reads from Isaiah and announces the year of the Lord’s favor, I almost hear him announcing a time when we might all actually act like we are part of the body of Christ, part of one body of Christ. If we are all part of the same body and are all seen as the precious, important individual parts we are, there should be no poor among us. There should be no captives, no blind, no oppressed. If we all already lived the way we are called to live by Paul and by Jesus…then Jesus’ sermon wouldn’t have any meaning for us still.

Because the most important part about this particular word from God, the most important part of Jesus’ proclamation in that synagogue so many centuries ago was the five-lettered opening: “Today.” “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Today meant then and today means now. It means that as much as we have a hoped-for future in Christ and promises of eternal life, we also have life in Christ and life together today: now, then, and every day to come. We are one body today. God brings good news to the poor today. God proclaims release to the captives, sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed today. Today is still the year the of Lord’s favor. This is the word of the Lord.

Amen.

A God of Abundance

Sermon preached Sunday, January 20, 2019, the Second Sunday after Epiphany, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

Has anyone here ever bought a lottery ticket? I think about that sometimes, as I’m watching TV and commercials with that groundhog Gus who encourages you to “Keep on scratchin’.” I think, sometimes about what I would do if I were ever to win a huge jackpot.

A few years ago, the Powerball reached incredible jackpot numbers, like 1.5 billion dollars. Do you remember that? Do you remember how people who had never played Powerball before and who had no intention of actually buying a ticket were talking it.

It was interesting to see and hear, through social media and conversations, which of my friends refused to buy a ticket on principle, which ones bought one on a whim, which ones went in on a lot of tickets with a group from work or a couple of friends. It was fascinating to see how some people could not have cared less and others started dreaming up the things they would do if they happened to win. Even on a Facebook page for other pastors, one person asked what kind of ministry each pastor’s congregation might be able to do if it won the Powerball.

If nothing else, it got people thinking. It got people thinking about what life would look like with more money than I think any of us have ever dreamed of having. What we could buy, where we could go, the things we could do for other people. I heard things about paying off their own or their parent’s house, eliminating student loans, quitting work to travel the world at a nice, leisurely pace. Buying houses, buying cars, upgrading a phone or computer to the latest model. There were commitments to donate to favorite charities, to offer to pay utilities for a year for low-income housing developments, and other acts of good-will.

In general, it seemed that most people talking about the Powerball had shifted their way of thinking. They had gone from thinking in terms of scarcity and were now instead thinking in terms of abundance. Most of us live our lives knowing exactly how much we have left. How much we can get by with. How much we need in order to make ends meet. We know how much our bills come out to, how much time we must devote to work, or family, or social activities and it is a finite amount. We are trying to work with what we have and we often think that we don’t have enough. We may end up pleasantly surprised at the end of a week, or month, or year, with extra money in our bank account, or a free afternoon with no commitments…but we are constantly worried about running out—of wealth, of energy, of time, of space.

It’s not about whether or not we plan or use a budget. Budgets are great tools—but are we planning already feeling like we’re stretched too thin? Or are we planning with a sense of joy and wonder at the incredible amount of things we have been blessed with? It changes our attitude. It changes the way we understand and use our resources.

Do we have a God of scarcity or abundance? Do we have a God who does as little as possible to squeak by? Or do we have a God who lavishly and lovingly gives to us, over and over again, more than we could ever need?

We don’t need to look much further than this morning’s Gospel story: the Wedding at Cana. This text is most popular for weddings because, well, it’s the only time the Jesus ever attends a wedding in the Gospel accounts…but it’s good for a lot more than that. This text can take us in a lot of different directions, but I hear it shouting to me this time around as being all about God’s abundance.

There are six stone jars, each holding an enormous amount of water. Twenty to thirty gallons of water. Jesus performs his sign—the first sign he performs in his ministry career in the Gospel of John—and all of a sudden this water is now wine. Not just any wine, either, but good quality, exceptional wine. It might not mean a lot to us to think about twenty or thirty gallons…it’s sort of an abstract way to get around it because we never think of wine in terms of gallons. I have a friend, though, who did the math.

A standard wine bottle is 750 mililiters. If we take a middle number and say that each stone jug held 25-ish gallons, which would get us to about 90 liters, then Jesus provided about seven hundred and twenty bottles of wine. Seven hundred and twenty bottles. For one feast. As the secondary, back-up wine. This is far more than this group could drink. More than enough. More than was needed. It was an abundance—and overabundance—of good wine.

The most important part about this abundance, though, is that it is not simply abundance for abundance’ sake. As with everything Jesus does in the Gospel of John, it points to the larger picture. The Gospel of John is usually said to be in two parts: a “Book of Signs” and a “Book of Glory.” In its simplest breakdown, the “Book of Signs” is the beginning and middle of Jesus’ ministry on earth where he is performing miracles and traveling and teaching. The “Book of Glory” is the road to Jesus’ passion and crucifixion.

Why is it called the “Book of Signs” and not the “Book of Miracles”? There’s a difference between a sign and a miracle. While a miracle can be impressive, it rarely does more than show off the skill or power of the one performing it. Signs, on the other hand, by their very nature, are always pointing to something else. To call Jesus’ acts of power “signs” is to recognize that everything Jesus does: water into wine, healing the sick, feeding the multitude, walking on water, raising Lazarus from the dead—everything is only done to point to God, God’s love, God’s will for humankind, and God’s abundance.

Otherwise, turning water into wine could just be a fun parlor trick. “Hey guys, let’s be sure to invite Jesus to the party so we don’t have to get anything!” Rowan Atkinson has a whole stand-up bit on how folks start wanting to hire Jesus for their kids’ birthday parties after that day. Instead, this is more. This is the first sign, the sign that reveals his glory and the sign that inaugurates his ministry on earth. His disciples believed because of this sign. Sometimes we forget that this is very early in the Gospel of John. Jesus has called his disciples by saying “Come and See” and “Follow Me.” Nothing else has really happened yet.

They came, they followed, and now, for the first time, they have the chance to see that yes, this is the Son of God, this is the Messiah, this is the Word of God made flesh. This is a God who has great power and uses it to provide abundantly for God’s people.

So, there are two things for us to keep in mind. First: we have been given things abundantly. Sometimes this takes a mental shift. We’re not always talking about money. We can be talking about faith, love, forgiveness, grace, relationships, family, talent, knowledge…there are things we have an abundance of that we may not even recognize, especially if we are always focused on our bottom line. We do have an abundance of things.

What do you have an abundance of personally? (beat) Really think about it.

What do we have an abundance of as a congregation? (beat) How about as a nation? (beat) What about as a global community? What do we have more than enough of? What can we share?

So that’s the first thing to remember. And second: our abundance can always point to Christ. We could, and sometimes we do, use the things that we have and the things we are blessed with to point to our own, personal successes. We might say that we have the money we do only because of our hard work, no one else’s and especially not God’s. We might say that our skill at something is only because of our practice or training or dedication and not because of a talent we were blessed with or because of teachers who helped shape us. We could always point to ourselves…or we can point to God.

With everything we have, everything we’re given, everything we are able to share, everything we are able to do…we can use it all to point to our loving God who created us and then blessed us abundantly with much more than enough.

So, maybe you’ve bought lottery tickets. But we know that we don’t need one. We know that our abundance is much more than just money. We know that our abundance comes from God. We know that our abundance is proven in water turned to wine and death on a cross. We know that our abundance is resurrection and everlasting life.

Amen.

What’s in a Name?

Sermon preached Sunday, January 13, 2019, Baptism of Our Lord, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

Names can have a lot of power. When we are born, names are often the first gift we are given. We have nothing in the world, no power, no wealth, no possessions, but then we are given a name—something that will belong to us for the rest of our lives. Even if we change our name, that first name will still be a part of our history.

Names are reflections of our identity, of our culture, and of our values. You share names, especially, last names, with people who come out of a similar culture. Your name might reflect a greater trend in society, when every other kid in your class had the same one. I grew up with more Katies and Ashleys than I was able to keep track of! Your name might even be one you chose as an adult, to better reflect who you understand yourself to be.

Names tell us to whom we belong. Shared family names carry weight. For those of you who have gotten married, or chosen to change your last name for your partner, I’m sure your original family name still has significance, as you celebrate traditions that came from the “Jones” side of the family or the recipe that you had every Christmas Day growing up in the “Smith” household.

Names are funny things because they both reinforce our ties and connections to others, all while keeping us independent. Our last names bind us together. Our first names assert our individuality. Names serve a lot of different purposes. Names have power.

Being called by our name is even more powerful. Sometimes it’s a silly thing: picking up our coffee at the Starbucks counter, or finally being called back to the doctor’s exam room after a long wait. There is great stock placed on being called the right name or the wrong name. Being called the right name feels good, feels right, feels validating. Being called the wrong name, however, can be frustrating, upsetting, or even feel dismissive.

What name we are called tells us who knows us well and who is a stranger. When telemarketers call and ask for “Rebecca Ajar,” I know immediately that they do not know me. And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of nicknames or pet names, the names that are only reserved for certain people. Do you have a name that only one or two other people use? It’s a special feeling, isn’t it, knowing that you have this relationship that is unique and important and valuable.

Our family knows our name, or names—the things we are called by and known as. Our friends know. Our coworkers, our acquaintances that we see occasionally as we go about our lives. All of these people know us and know our name…at least one of our names. …and so does God. God knows every name we have…and calls us by it.

“Thus says the LORD,” says the Prophet Isaiah, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:1-2)

“I have called you by name, you are mine.” What beautiful words from the mouth of God! God, the incredible creator of the entire universe, is telling us, in no uncertain terms, that we are loved and we are God’s. We belong to God and God has given us a tangible sign of that love and belonging—God has given us baptism.

This morning we celebrate and commemorate the baptism of our Lord. Jesus, after his birth, after his presentation at the temple, after the wisemen have left, after his family fled to Egypt and returned, after growing up and becoming an adult in Nazareth, Jesus comes to the Jordan River to by baptized by John, along with everyone else waiting along the banks.

Jesus’ was baptized, and it’s like our baptism, but it is not the same. It is instead an inaugural event. It is the first baptism in a new kind of baptism. John’s baptism is for the forgiveness of sins. He proclaims that the one coming after him will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Later, Jesus tells his disciples to baptize in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ baptism is not to forgive his sins. It is instead a sign. As the Holy Spirit comes down from above, the voice of God is heard: “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Jesus’ baptism tells us who Jesus is, just as our baptisms tell us who we are.

In our own baptisms, we are claimed and named by God. We are joined to Christ in the waters of baptism. We are joined to Christ, we have died to sin and been risen to new life. We have been given a new identity with our brothers and sisters in Christ. It is almost as if the sky opened again, for each one of us, and the Holy Spirit descended and the voice of God spoke again from the prophet Isaiah: “I have called you by name, you are mine.”

Do you remember the day you were baptized? Do you ever think about it? I was an infant, only about two weeks old when I was baptized. I don’t remember anything, except what I’ve seen in pictures of my Lutheran pastor Grandpa Schmitt holding me in front of a font in Hobbs, New Mexico. Is it any different for you? Were you baptized as an infant? As a teenager? As an adult? Were you baptized in a church or in the ocean like a friend of mine from high school? Was your family there and supportive or were you instead only surrounded by friends from your church community?

Truth be told, we’re not always great at remembering and recognizing our true baptismal identity in our daily life. It doesn’t really matter how the baptism happened. We believe in one baptism for the Christian church and believe, along with most other Christians, that any baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, regardless of denomination is holy and true. I think, however, that we could do a better job of remembering that baptism is a life-long journey and vocation. It is not a one-time event so much as it is a starting point for our life in Christ and Christian community.

How can we live this way? Maybe starting by marking yourself with the cross when you pray or when you are feeling discouraged. Use that sign of the cross to remind yourself that you are a child of God. Martin Luther suggested that in the morning, as you wash yourself, you can splash around with the water a bit, reminding yourself of the water splashed on you in your baptism. As you encounter people with whom you disagree, as things happen that upset you or as you get frustrated or angry with people in or outside the church take a moment, stop, and think about your baptism and how they are a child of God as well. Think about how you are joined together with them in Christ and perhaps that will change the way you deal with that conflict.

Let’s take a minute and remember our baptism together. When we baptize, we make the sign of the cross on a person’s forehead. Look at the person next to you. If you’re sitting alone, you might need to shift a little bit to find a partner. Everyone have someone? Good.

Here’s what you’re going to say: [The Person’s Name], child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. I’ll repeat it: [The Person’s Name], child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. As you say it, trace a cross on the person’s forehead.

[When all have completed it:]

How do you feel? I hope you feel treasured and renewed. Baptism is incredible. It’s remarkable and life changing. It never goes away—it is a constant. We are irrevocably changed and connected to one another and to God. There is nothing we can do about it. We are named. We are claimed. We loved. We are God’s.

Amen.

A Chance to Breathe

On the slim chance that you came to this site in the past few weeks hoping for updated sermons or other postings from me and were disappointed, I’m sorry.

Beginning on November 2nd, six members of the congregation I serve died within six weeks of each other and their services, compounded with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year meant that anything not absolutely essential was pushed to the back burner, including this site.

I’m back now, with backdated sermons posted and more pages read in my latest book and I feel like I finally have a change to breathe. I am beyond grateful that Lent begins late this year (Ash Wednesday is on March 6th, which at least gives me another week or two before I begin planning for the new season).

In a way, this January is a Sabbath. A time to slow down and collect the scattered thoughts and plans and ideas I keep finding scribbled on random post-it notes or in the margins of meeting agendas. There is a lot of work to do, certainly, but none of it is so time-sensitive that it must be done RIGHT NOW…and so I am streching and filling my lungs with air and embracing the weeks ahead.

As our Jewish siblings might say, “Shabbat Shalom.”

Sabbath Peace.

It is divine.

Meaning in Manifestation

Sermon preached Sunday, January 6, 2019, the Epiphany of Our Lord, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio can be found here.

You may have noticed that this morning’s gospel reading was a little longer than normal. That’s for a good reason.

This morning we celebrate the Epiphany of Our Lord. It always falls on January 6^th, so usually we have to move the feast day…but this year it actually falls on Sunday! Epiphany is a lovely festival that causes us to think about what the incarnation of Christ really means for us—what are the implications of God coming to dwell among us?

Epiphany also marks the end of the Christmas season, the twelve days of Christmas that end, at least in the song, with twelve drummers drumming. The carols have gone away, the decorations are mostly down, and we settle into January and the coming year. We’ve missed something, though. During those twelve days of Christmas, there are actually quite a few other feast days that tend to get skipped over.

December 26^th is the feast day of Stephen, deacon and martyr, whose story is told in the book of Acts. December 27^th is the feast day of John the Evangelist. And the 28^th is the feast day of the Holy Innocents.

The reason why our Gospel reading this morning was longer was because I included the portion of Matthew, Chapter 2 that is appointed for Holy Innocents. “Holy Innocents” commemorates the unwilling martyrdom of the children slaughtered by King Herod in his quest to find and kill Jesus.

It’s a story that is horrifying and has great importance, but we never really get to hear it. I looked up the liturgical calendar for the next ten years and Holy Innocents never falls on a Sunday in the next decade. …so, I decided to include it today.

It might seem a bit incongruous, but, really, Epiphany and Holy Innocents are two parts of the same story, the two parts of what happens when these magi from the East come and cause Herod to feel threatened.

Herod feels that his power and control is in jeopardy. Power that is taken and not granted, power that is exerted through force, not trust, compassion, and love, never feels secure. It is constantly vigilant against real and perceived threats and will stop at nothing to tighten its hold…even if that means committing mass murder against innocent children.

Unfortunately, we see this kind of power struggle play out in our world all too frequently. We see dictators crack down on journalists and truth seekers and justice workers. We see corrupt politicians disenfranchise those who would disagree with them. We see people in caretaker roles for vulnerable populations who manipulate and abuse to get their own way.

In other words, our world is filled with Herods—filled with people who spare no thought for the other. People who put their own desire, their own sense of security, their own unfounded fears above the well-being of other members of the Body of Christ who are in desperate need.

On Epiphany, it’s especially important for us to remember this.

Epiphany literally means “manifestation,” and we remember and celebrate the fact that God is and was manifest among us, and that changes things: shining light into shadowy places, filling the hungry with good things, bringing life out of death, casting the mighty Herods down from their thrones and lifting up the humble of heart.

Because the light of Christ has come into the world, things must change. It is a given. When God is at work, nothing stays the same and when God came into our very flesh everything was turned upside down.

As Christians, as followers of Christ and beloved children of God, we are called to be a part of this change, called to seek out God’s will for humanity and all of creation, called to stymie the work of Herods in our midst.

There are so many stories I could tell you of times this has happened in history: the abolitionist movement and the tireless, dangerous work of individuals and groups to end slavery in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. The resistance workers like Dietrich Bonhoeffer who refused to comply with Nazi rule. The civil rights movement here in the States that fought for racial equality. The patrons of the Stonewall Inn who said enough is enough. These are all examples of people saying “no” to the work of Herods.

But there’s one story in particular I’d like to share, the story of Leymah Gbowee, a Liberian peacemaker and reformer.

If you aren’t familiar with Liberia’s history in the 90s, let me fill you in. A civil war broke out in 1989, following a coup and an election considered to be fraudulent. The conflict was bloody and brutal. After a broken ceasefire in 1995, the war came to an end and new elections were held in 1997.

Unfortunately, this peace was extremely short-lived, as two competing rebel groups emerged and began fighting with the government forces in 1999. Perhaps one of the most disturbing elements of this conflict was the widespread use of child soldiers.

It was in the midst of this conflict that Leymah Gbowee decided she needed to do something. These Herods were destroying lives and her country. She felt God’s call to stand up to them.

During the first civil war, Gbowee and her family barely survived, coming close to being shot on more than one occasion by various groups of soldiers. When the first war came to an end, she participated in a program run by UNICEF training folks to be trauma counselors. Soon after, she began working at a Lutheran church in Monrovia in their Trauma Healing and Reconciliation Program.

When the second conflict broke out in 1999, she was inspired by her work to attend the first meeting of the Women in Peacebuilding Network, along with women from almost all the West African nations. She became the leader of the Liberian chapter and got to work right away. They organized and spread their message. They had fliers that read: “We are tired! We are tired of our children being killed! We are tired of being abused!! Women, wake up – you have a voice in the peace process!” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leymah_Gbowee) They engaged in sit-ins and made their presence and position known. In the end, they played an indispensable role in the peace that was finally achieved in 2003.

There is a documentary about her work, called “Pray the Devil Back to Hell,” if you want to learn more about her incredible story. I tell it to you this morning because Leymah Gbowee is a remarkable example of what participating in God’s work can look like. She said in a podcast interview:

“I didn’t get there by myself… or anything I did as an individual, but it was by the grace and mercy of God…. He has held my hands. In the most difficult of times, he has been there. They have this song, “Order my steps in your ways, dear Lord,” and every day as I wake up, that is my prayer, because there’s no way that anyone can take this journey as a peacebuilder, as an agent of change in your community, without having a sense of faith…. As I continue this journey in this life, I remind myself: All that I am, all that I hope to be, is because of God.” (ibid.)

God with her. God manifest in her life. God changing her and through that, changing the world.

The Christmas story is about more than a cute baby in a manger—it is about salvation coming to the earth. The Epiphany story is about more than some magi traveling a great distance to offer some expensive gifts—it is about what the presence of Christ in our midst does for us. It is, in fact, a radical story that should give us pause—are we ready to embrace what God has in store? Are we ready to jump in? Are we ready to get to work? Are we ready to have our hearts and our lives and our spirits changed? Are we truly ready for this manifestation of God?

To be honest, probably not. I don’t know if anyone really is. But we can try. We can make ourselves as open as possible to the movement of God’s Spirit. We can look for the face of Jesus in every person we meet. We can spy the hand of the Creator in every living thing or stunning sunset. God is here, among us, around us, within us, and within all things on this earth. That is what Epiphany means.

Let us be ready to encounter God and join in God’s life-giving work.

Amen.