A Messy Christmas

Christmas Eve 2014

Luke 2:1-20

Merry Christmas Bethany Lutheran Church!  May the grace and peace of our Lord and Savior, be with you on this fine evening.

My wife and I received an unusual package in the mail the other day.  We got out the knife, opened up the box, which was stuffed full of ...Diapers!  It was full of diapers.  

For those of you who don’t know, my wife and I are expecting our first child in April, and so up to this point, we’ve been getting all of the fun baby stuff in the mail.  We have our crib.  There are little onesies and stuffed animals that keep showing up at our door.  It’s the kind of stuff that makes you want to be a parent.  

But diapers?  Am I ready for that? The other day, I had this realization that I have never changed a diaper in my life! Whenever a baby needs to be changed, I do what every rational guy does when - I run to the basement.

Of course I tell this to parents and they all just laugh at me. One guy on the council had changed so many diapers in his life that he was showing off how to do it with his eyes closed...literally.  I told this to another friend from church who told me, “You know, the first time I changed a diaper I threw up on my shoes!” Yeah. Real helpful guys! Thanks for the moral support!

I’m quickly learning that there’s a romantic, made for TV, side of being a parent that’s all high-fives and hugs, bike rides and baseball games. But getting that box of diapers woke me up to the day-to-day reality of being a parent.  It was my first glimpse of the messy side of parenthood.

As much as I would like to take the good parts and leave out the bad ones, the truth is, you can’t have one without the other. You can’t be a parent without changing a butt-load of diapers (pun intended). That would be like saying that you want to experience the thrill of skydiving without the fear of falling. It’s a part of the package, and perhaps we shouldn’t want it any other way.

Every year, I get a similar feeling about the story of Jesus’ birth.  We have such a romantic view of Christmas, that we often miss the bigger picture of what it means for the Son of God to be born in a stable.  

Often, the images we see of the nativity show all of the good, and none of the bad. They’ll paint a romantic scene of a still, peaceful night, with two calm and serene looking parents, surrounded by soft, cuddly looking animals, gentle shepherds, and a host of angels.

The birth of Jesus is often described as a “humble” birth, which strikes me as being a gross understatement. I think a more accurate way to describe his birth would be “messy.”

Mary and Joseph are essentially in a barn. And do you know what goes on inside of a barn?  Everything!  It’s messy in there.  It’s a stable for dirty farm animals, not a hospital! There’s no crib for the baby when it’s born.  It’s just a feeding trough for the animals - a manger.  There’s no soft mattress to lie down on, it’s a bed of itchy hay.  And these shepherds that came to be the first witnesses to the birth of the Savior of the World - they are the poorest folks from the very bottom of society.

It’s as if God chose to dive into this world he loved, but couldn’t truly do so without falling into the messiness of life.

This is how the Messiah comes into the world.  Strange isn’t it? But I can’t help but think that there something beautiful going on here - there’s a harmony between the holiness of God and the messy reality of the world.  It’s a message that God is about to do something new - something completely unexpected.  Instead of destroying the world like in the story of Noah and the flood, this time God is going to enter into it - change it from the inside out.

The story of Jesus birth declares that it’s in the messiness of life that we encounter the holiness of God.  It’s absurdly counter-intuitive.  It’s the moment where you get a box of diapers in the mail and realize that this incredible thing that’s happening is going to be intertwined with everything else life has to offer.

It seems that whenever life gets messy, God is in the midst of it. When the world wouldn’t go near the lepers, Jesus was healing them with his touch.  When people walked around the blind beggars, Jesus walked up to them.  Jesus doesn’t even run from the ugliness of the cross.  This God doesn’t avoid the messiness of life - cancer, poverty, war, hunger, death - this God is in the middle of it all.

I’m getting ahead of the story.  Here, in front of us today is the Messiah - a mere baby - lying in a feeding trough for animals.  He’s in a dirty stable, with filthy animals, surrounded by two exhausted parents. And the only people who know about it are the shepherds working the night shift.

Still, I have to believe that this is the most beautiful scene you could imagine. It’s the most precious gift you could receive. And I don’t believe God wanted it any other way.

Merry Christmas Bethany Lutheran Church

and Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Let it Go

Sermon – Matthew 16:21-28

Let it Go

by Pr. Paul Cannon

Grace and Peace from God our father and our Lord Jesus Christ,

At the risk of sounding a little bit like the Disney movie “Frozen” I want to inform you all that today’s sermon is about letting go.  But where Princess Elsa is singing about letting her inner awesomeness out, I am going to be talking about letting go of our own lives. So you can breathe a sigh of relief - I will not be singing the song “Let it Go” for you all.

The truth is, we all have trouble letting go.  I had a little kid in my office this past week, and he was eyeing the bowl of candy that I always leave on my desk.  He turned to his mom and asked if he could have one.  She looked at me, and sort of gave me the “no-candy-for-him” look and calmly explained that it wasn’t his.

Well that didn’t make him very happy.  So when the mother asked her son to help clean up the toys he was playing with, he scrunched up his face and balled up his hands at his side and said, “No!  I’m not cleaning up.”

Cleaning up the toys had nothing to do with the candy of course - it was just his way of venting frustration.  He couldn’t let go of his disappointment in losing out on the chance at a nougaty piece of chocolate delight!  You’d be disappointed too I’m sure.

Though we can laugh at a child’s antics, in reality, most of us don’t act much different when it comes to our own disappointments, frustrations and anger.  We have a hard time letting go.  We scrunch up our faces, and clench our fists, until the anger spills out of us in ways that had nothing to do with our original injury.

We have to learn to let go, and while it sounds easy in theory, in practice it’s incredibly difficult.  We are not wired to do it.  When we’re angry, or when we’ve been hurt or when we’re afraid, every instinct we have tells us to hold on tight - because holding on to those feelings gives us the illusion of control. The tighter we hang on - the more control we feel we have over our lives.

The problem is, life tends to get in the way and disturb our illusion of being in control.  A loved one is diagnosed with cancer; an earthquake shakes up the very ground we walk on; a company decides they need to make cutbacks - and you are on the list.  

Life is a constant barrage of stuff happening that reminds us how little control we really have.  When all this stuff gets thrown at us, we want to grab hold and hang on for dear life.  

It’s exactly how Peter reacts when Jesus tells him that he has to die and then be raised three days later.   And so he too tries to take control. Peter turns to Jesus and says “God forbid it Lord. This must never happen to you.”  He doesn’t want to lose control.  He doesn’t want to lose his Rabbi.

We know the end of Jesus story, so it’s easy for us to pick on Peter for not being faithful, but in real life, we react like Peter all the time - we try to control situations beyond our grasp.

And so Jesus’ words to Peter could also be addressed to all of us. He tells Peter to deny himself and take up the cross, quote, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Or to put in the terms we’ve been using today, Those who hang on to this life will lose it, and those who let go for the sake of Jesus, will find it.

Let go of everything - let go of your anger, let go of your need to be in control, let go of yourself for Jesus’ sake - and you will find life.

But what does that mean and how do we do it?  

In our reading from Romans today, Paul is going to list some ways that we let go. “Bless those who persecute you...live in harmony...associate with the lowly...do not repay evil for evil...if your enemies are hungry feed them…if they are thirsty give them something to drink.”

It’s hard, but it happens all around us.

We’ve all seen what’s unfolded in Ferguson, Missouri over the last few weeks.  An unarmed teenager named Michael Brown was shot dead by the police after a confrontation, causing community and civil unrest there --even riots.

In spite of the chaos and sometimes violent protests, there was, in the midst of it all, another reaction that reminds me of what Paul is talking about.

Folks held candle-light vigils, and walked down the street with their arms up.  We saw youth groups praying on the streets and people of different races, religions and creeds walking in solidarity with one another. Even the victim’s family was calling for peace.

That’s what letting go looks like. Letting go of our anger - our need for vengeance.

And so Paul sums up this section by saying, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Giving into anger is understandable.  We all do it.  But when we see examples of folks overcoming it, and trying to create goodness and light in the midst of dark places - that is the work of God.

Overcome evil with good.  It’s a radical idea in an eye-for-an-eye kind of world.   Yet Paul insists that when our instinct is to hang onto animosity, instead we ought to hold fast to what is good - to let go of your anger and replace it with something greater.  

Instead of seeking revenge, seek to be a servant.  If somebody hurts you, pray for them.  If they’re hungry, feed them.  If they’re thirsty, give them something to drink.

Evil can be overcome with good.  We say this with confidence, knowing that Christ has already overcome all evil with the ultimate act of love on the cross.

Everything we do, is merely a reflection of what’s already been accomplished. And so, as Paul said, we cling to what is good - we cling to Christ - and let go of everything else.  And in this, we find life.

Thanks be to God.

Amen

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent: March 30th, 2014

Sermon – Sunday, March 30^th, 2014

Gospel: God is found in the midst of suffering

Call: Look forward

In the Midst

Grace & Peace Bethany Lutheran Church,

I have some exciting news to share with you all, which some of you may already know.  My twin brother Neal, who is also training to be a Pastor at Luther Seminary and is going through the first call process, has been assigned to the Northern Illinois Synod of the ELCA – which means that whatever church he ends up at he’ll be dangerously close by!  I say dangerous, because we have been known to pull shenanigans from time to time.

Some of you have gotten a chance to meet him already – Others of you have probably seen him … and thought he was me – because as you might know we are identical twins.  And to answer the question that I’m sure you are all wondering right now – yes, at some point in the future we will definitely do a pulpit swap ... and I will NOT tell you ahead of time. (Trust me, it's more fun that way).

Having my brother around is going to be really good for me for a lot of reasons – one of the primary ones being that if I ever get into mischief, I can always blame it on Neal.  I can picture it now.  “Pastor Paul, I could have sworn I saw you and some middle schoolers sticking pink flamingos into (the Bengstons, the Thoreson’s) yard yesterday evening…was that you?”  “Uhhhh. Me? No!  Maybe it was Neal.”

Of course, it’s a double-edged sword.  Neal could easily blame me for his shenanigans as well.  I fear the day when I get an angrily worded email – yelling at me breaking a stain glass window … at a church I've never been too.

But it is nice to have a built-in fall guy – somebody I can always point to and blame when I need it.  Because that really is our nature isn’t it?  When something goes wrong we are always looking for somebody to blame – somebody to point the finger at and say “Aha!  You’re the one who screwed up!”

That has been true of human nature for a long time.  Today we hear the story of a blind beggar and immediately, the disciples want to find out who’s to blame for the man’s condition.  They ask Jesus the preposterous question, “Who sinned that this man was born blind?  Him, or his parents?”

Who sinned?  Really?  That’s what the disciples want to know? Most of us don’t think of blindness as something caused by sin anymore.  It’s a medical condition.  Blindness – particularly if one is BORN blind – isn’t something that we can avoid by a holy life.

But today, I’m inclined to cut the disciples a little bit of slack, because they are simply asking a question that we all want an answer for, and that question is “Whose fault is this?” “Who can we blame?”

We are quick to judge the disciples here, but we ask the same question all the time.  I was listening to the news earlier this week, and they were talking about the horrible mudslide that happened over in Washington State.

As of Saturday 17 people were confirmed dead, and about 90 people are still missing – all because of a rain-soaked mountain that couldn’t hold back the ground any longer.  All those homes – all those people vanished in an instant. 

The newscaster was interviewing a geologist who revealed that this same spot has seen many mudslides over the last century. Geologists and other scientists have studied the area since the late 90s and concluded that it was vulnerable to the same thing happening again. 

They even wrote official reports about it warning people of the danger.  And what was even more astonishing, was that they said that many, if not most, of the townspeople were aware that something like this could happen.

The people on the news were looking for somebody to blame. “Whose fault is this?”  Was there a failure of policy here?  Should people have been allowed to build on an area that was known to be unsafe?  Should they have known better?

Who screwed up here? Who sinned?  In situations like this we really want to have somebody to blame because it makes us feel better.  If we can answer those questions, if we can identify what people did wrong … then maybe we can avoid disaster ourselves.

The only problem is this: sometimes there isn’t anybody to blame. Sometimes it’s just a water-soaked hill that can’t hold back the mud any longer. Sometimes it’s just a man born blind. And so Jesus tells the disciples their answer.  He says, “Neither this man, nor his parents sinned.” 

Jesus is saying that by asking who sinned, you’re asking the wrong question.  The question the disciples asked assumes that God was the one to blame – that God was punishing the blindman for some unseen sin.  But God, Jesus says, didn’t do this.  He didn’t make the man blind.  He didn’t collapse the side of a mountain.

Despite these words from Jesus, we still want to blame God when things go wrong.  When we run out of people to point fingers at, the only one left to blame is God. We sense that in tragedy, God must be close by. And so our instinct is to ask, “Where is God in all this?”

I know it’s a troubling question, but it’s one that we have to ask, because the world is wondering. With the new movie about Noah out in theaters now, I expect there will be a lot of discussion about why God lets bad things happen. 

Where is God when people are born blind?  Where is God when mudslides destroy towns?  Where is God when floods wipe out a city-a world?

There are seemingly two ways to answer that question.  On the one hand, there are the Pat Robertsons and Jerry Falwells of the world who take the route of the disciples and blame 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina on sin. They point their fingers at so-called sinners and lay the blame at their feet.  Nevermind that it’s not what Jesus says – particularly in our text today. 

Another way to answer the question is to say that God doesn’t exist – or even worse – that he doesn’t care. But whenever I find myself doubting, I think about the incredible transformations I’ve witnessed – both in myself and in others – and the only explanation I can come up with is that God must be behind all this.

And I can’t deny God’s love for the world when I see the poor being cared for every day – or when thousands of Christians rush to disaster zones around the globe in the name of Christ. Yes, I believe God cares deeply about this world we live in.

And so Jesus tells the disciples that God didn’t cause this poor man’s blindness.  To ask “Who sinned?” or “Who is to blame here?” is indeed the wrong question because it looks backwards.  Rather, the question to ask is, “How does God respond to tragedy?”  “How do we respond as a people of faith?” 

As Christians, we look forward.  It’s not our place to judge.  It’s not our place to lay blame. It is our place to help.  It is our place to heal.  Jesus tells the disciples that it’s not about what the blind man or his parents did, it’s about what God is about to do through a blind beggar.  Through blindness, Jesus was going to make the world see God.

There is a third way to answer this question of suffering.  The Biblical witness is that God is indeed very present in the midst of suffering, but it’s not because he is causing it, or because it’s his will, or because he’s punishing somebody.  God is present in suffering, because God is working to transform it.

Finally, on the cross we learn that God does not exclude himself from suffering either. God suffers with us. The twenty-third Psalm that we heard today talks about it this way.

1 The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;

3 He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me;

your rod and your staff— they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.

I don’t know about you, but the line that grabs me today is this, “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.” That’s how God responds in the midst of darkness. He stays with us.

We all have dark valley’s in our lives. Sometimes, darkness comes from outside of us in tragedy – like mudslides and hurricanes. Sometimes darkness seems to come from within us, like blindness or depression or addiction or cancer.

In the midst of that darkness, God is with you.  He’s not blaming or pointing fingers because sin itself has already been put to death on the cross. It’s behind us. There’s no reason to look back. God is looking forward. He’s transforming. He’s creating life out of the dead places.  

Brothers and sisters in Christ,

That is what we are called to do as well – to look forward. 

To heal.  To Transform a broken world.

That is who our God is. 

That is the amazing grace of the risen Lord.

Let us all look forward in praise to God.

Amen.