Sermon for Epiphany 2014

Epiphany Worship: Sunday, January 5, 2014

Matthew 2:1-12

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!

On December 25^th, I didn’t get out of my pajamas all day. I also didn’t answer email, do dishes, or go outside even once. It. Was. Glorious. Every day should be Christmas! Amen!

Early on December 26, dressed more respectably, I ventured out to run some errands. I was stopped short, however, by the sight of a neighbor’s Christmas tree, already stripped bare and leaning against the curb. I couldn’t believe it! Now, I realize my perspective may be slightly different (pastors and church musicians experience the weeks of Advent all the way through Christmas Eve as a kind of marathon) but in my view, on December 26, Christmas had just started. I was in no way ready to kick Christmas to the curb. 

One of the problems, of course, is the corporate Christmas machine, which starts pumping holiday cheer into us around Halloween and makes us more than eager to move along to the next holiday by December 26^th. Maybe that’s what my neighbor was feeling. Or maybe they were going on vacation, or their tree was dropping needles, or they needed to get the boxes of ornaments into the basement while the grandkids were around to help. In other words—this isn’t really about my neighbors, is it? If they look past the weeds in my yard, surely I can look past the tree on their curb. Note to self: a great New Year’s Resolution might be to “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” 

OK, but still, the Christmas tree thrown to the curb on December 26^th brings up an important issue for me. I’ve been thinking about how the understanding Christmas as being just one day reinforces the notion that the Christian faith is about honoring, remembering, and reenacting a one-time historical event. Here today, gone tomorrow; a few hours set aside from our busy lives, to tell a story we’ve already heard and to keep traditions we hardly understand.

Truth be told, that is probably the Christmas (and the Christianity) most of our neighbors are celebrating. It’s certainly the Christmas honored at Starbucks, the mall, and Toys R Us! As the church, however, we are always in conflict with this understanding of Christmas, beginning with the four weeks of Advent preparation right through today, the 11^th day of Christmas and the celebration of the Epiphany. Just look around! We’re still singing Christmas carols. The trees are still up. Baby Jesus is still in the manger. And the wise men and camels are just arriving!  

So from the perspective of the church, Christmas isn’t over just because the Christmas sales have started or the Valentine’s candy is on the shelves. For us, as people of faith, Christmas isn’t a one day commemoration of something that happened a long time ago. Christmas, and Christianity, is about an ongoing, cosmic, “happening”: God’s revelation to us through the birth of Jesus, which continues to bring life and light to the world. God did not come once into the world and then leave! And Jesus wasn’t just born once in Bethlehem. Today, and every day, Jesus is born again in us, the community of the faithful. The light still shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Amen! Merry Christmas!

For us, the church, the miracle of Christmas isn’t over on December 25, and that’s why today, although many of us have by now packed up the trappings of Christmas in our homes, we are celebrating another part of the Christmas story—the Epiphany. Raise your hand if you set up the camels and the wise men in your nativity set right next to the shepherds and the baby Jesus when you took the boxes out... Me too! But

Scripture tells us that the magi, the visitors from a faraway country, arrived about two years after Jesus was born. Not only were they not there on that “silent night”, they also likely never even saw the manger. Mary and Joseph were still in Bethlehem, but Jesus probably had graduated to more standard sleeping arrangements in those two years. Joseph might even have been doing some carpentry work until they could return home. By the time all the characters in our nativity sets were together in the same place, Jesus was a toddler, Mary and Joseph had moved out of the stable, and the foreigners had been traveling for a very long time. It couldn’t have been an easy journey—and their run-in with Herod in Jerusalem certainly didn’t help.

But we all know the part about how when they arrived, exhausted from their journey, they were overwhelmed with great joy. They had an Epiphany, recognizing Jesus for who he was. The magi fell to their knees and worshipped the baby Jesus, offering the gifts from the treasure chests they had been carrying for two whole years.

The celebration of Christmas simply could not be complete without these visitors from afar, whose eyes were opened and whose lives were changed when they encountered Jesus. Today, as we celebrate the end of the Christmas season and the Day of Epiphany, I ask you to consider: Are you here to remember how some wise foreigners got to see Jesus one time, an historic event that we had some fun re-enacting this morning? Or are you here, at the end of Christmas break and on the eve of some bitterly cold weather, because you believe that the miracle of Christmas is ongoing—and that we, too, can see Jesus?

What if, as we take down the trees and put away the nativity sets, kicking Christmas to the curb for one more year, we invite the joy of Epiphany to stick around for a while? What if our New Year’s Resolution is to practice watching for stars, and to be on the lookout for where Christ is born among us, in new and unexpected places?

One beautiful tradition we could borrow from our Christian brothers and sisters in England for just this purpose is called the “Chalking of the Door”. There, on January 6, Christians will gather on the doorstep of their homes with their families to pray and read Scripture. Then, someone takes a piece of chalk and writes above the door “20 + C + M + B + 14” while praying:

“The three Wise Men, C Caspar, M Melchior, and B Balthasar followed the star of God’s Son who became human 20 two thousand 14 and fourteen years ago. ++ May all who come to our home this year rejoice to find Christ living among us; and may we seek and serve, in everyone we meet, that same Jesus who is your incarnate Word, now and forever. Amen.”

(Now, I had thought I would present each of you with a piece of chalk and a printout of these prayers to take home today—but then I had a vision of you on your doorsteps tomorrow in the -50 wind-chill and I thought better of it! Therefore, this liturgy will be posted on the Sermon Blog and in Facebook, and I would encourage you to chalk your doors somewhere around next Friday, when it’s supposed to be above freezing!)

What I love about this “Chalking of the Door” tradition is not just the way it blesses and makes holy our homes for the year, but even more how that simple chalked message – c + m + b – calls to mind the three wise men every time a person goes in or out the door. Every day, many times per day, that simple chalk message reminds the homeowner to be on the lookout for stars pointing to the way to Christ. It serves as a reminder that we can expect to see him in unexpected places—maybe even on our doorstep! And it’s one simple way to keep the “overwhelming joy” of Epiphany alive all year long.

Dear people, while every day may not be Christmas, every day certainly can be Epiphany. Every day when we look up and choose to follow the Christ’s light in the darkness is Epiphany. Every day when we recognize Jesus in our neighbor is Epiphany. Every day when we kneel in the presence of Jesus, God-with-us, offering our treasures in his service, is Epiphany.

And so, as we bring the Christmas season to a close, let us bow our heads and pray an Epiphany blessing on this, our church home:

“The three Wise Men, C Caspar, M Melchior, and B Balthasar followed the star of God’s Son who became human 20 two thousand 14 and fourteen years ago. ++ May all who come to our church home this year rejoice to find Christ living among us; and may we seek and serve, in everyone we meet, that same Jesus who is your incarnate Word, now and forever. Amen.”

Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Advent: December 22, 2013

Sermon for Advent 4: December 22, 2013

Matthew 1:18-25

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

“What’s in a name?”

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The website BabyCenter recently released its annual baby name report, including a list of the most unusual names of the year. This year’s list includes, for girls: Blip, Fairy, and Kiwi. For boys, the list contains: Ajax, Cheese, Danish, Egypt, Jag, Panda, and Rocket. That’s right, I said “Cheese”. Someday, there could be a little Senator Cheese or Pastor Cheese or Doctor Cheese in your life.

Oh, but wait: it gets better! On this same website you can search for other unusual names from past years. You can find out, for example, that there have been multiple babies named Swag, Hotdog, Butterbean, Phone, Freak, Poopy, Superman, Mushroom, and Elbow. Actually, in 2009, there were three babies named Elbow. One has to wonder if Elbow had a brother named Kneecap and a sister named Bellybutton. Or, maybe he had a twin named Macaroni…

What’s in a name? Does it matter what we are called? Naming my first son Caleb was easy: his was the only name (and I mean the only name!) Robert and I could agree on. In fact, we joked that if he turned out to be a girl, he would simply have to be Calebina, because we couldn’t imagine agreeing on another name.

Some of you know already how our second child, Zion, was almost (but not quite) named Micah, with our plans thwarted when we got to know our pastor’s son, who was 14 years old and also named Mikah. But I don’t think I’ve mentioned how, once we got around to choosing “Zion” as the alternative, we got stuck on a middle name. This baby was due to be born 2 days after Christmas, so Robert and I thought it should be something Christmas-y. This would have been easier for a girl—you could always go with Noelle, or Holly, or Ivy, or the ever-popular Mary. It was a little harder for a boy, but even so, we were very excited to tell some friends we had decided on… “Emmanuel”. Zion Emmanuel Smith.

To say our friends reacted badly would be an understatement. “Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” they said. “This baby is already growing up as the pastor’s kid. Can you at least give him ONE normal name? Don’t do that to him.”

Yep…And that is how our second child became Zion ROBERT. Also, he was born nearly 3 weeks early, on December 8, which sort of ruined the whole Christmas-cutesy thing anyway.

So, what’s in a name? How much does it matter what we are called? In the birth story of the Messiah that we heard this morning, baby names are everything. The author of the Gospel of Matthew says “This is how the birth of the Messiah happened” and then instead of telling about the labor and the contractions, the story begins with Mary and Joseph’s engagement, some surprising pregnancy news, and then a dream in which an angel gives Joseph baby-naming advice. After suggesting he put “Jesus” at the top of the list, the angel goes on to repeat a prophecy from many centuries before:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.”

“You shall name him Jesus” and “They shall name him Emmanuel.” Have you noticed? In the Bible, no one seems to consult baby name books or websites before bestowing names upon people. Names in Scripture more often come from angels or from dreams. Names are even changed after close encounters with God. In this case, the baby born to Mary and Joseph receives two names: Jesus is the name Mary and Joseph will give him, following the angel’s advice. Emmanuel is the name the world will give him. 

“They shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.” Just as “Christ” isn’t Jesus’ last name, “Emmanuel” isn’t his middle name. “Emmanuel” is rather a description of Jesus’ life and ministry. It’s a title that speaks not only of Jesus as baby in a manger, but Jesus as healer, as itinerant preacher, and as prophet. This moniker, “Emmanuel”, tells us something special about this baby: it reveals that wherever Jesus is, God is present. Jesus is “God with us.”

Remember, the hope of a child being born who would be called “Immanuel, God with us” didn’t begin with this angel’s announcement in Joseph’s, but was spoken through the book of Isaiah long before. This was a hope that carried the people of God through exile and oppression, through times of persecution and famine. To understand how the hope of “God with us” could be so powerful, consider for a moment the value of presence. No, not “presents” like we have wrapped and waiting under the Christmas tree, but presence.

Consider the experience of trying to talk to a customer service representative on the phone or through online chat, and how sometimes you would do anything just to have a real person to look in the eyes and ask your question. Can I get an Amen? Or, consider the modern miracle of Skype and FaceTime and email. These innovations have changed life for those who live or travel or work overseas, because now we can see and hear each other instantly and (nearly) for free. No more Airmail or telegrams or, even worse, weeks with no contact at all. But ask any grandparent whose grandchildren live in another country, or anyone whose spouse is deployed overseas, about the value of “presence”, and they will tell you that the ability to hug and touch and feel a loved one is far better than cyber communication across the miles. Amen?

“God with us” means God is present with us. God keeps company with us. The church-y word for it is “incarnation”. The Gospel of John puts it this way: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14) The writer Frederick Buechner makes it plainer: “Moses at the burning bush was told to take off his shoes because the ground on which he stood was holy ground (Exodus 3:5), and the incarnation means that all ground is holy ground because God not only made it but walked on it, ate and slept and worked and died on it.” (“Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC” p. 43)

When the angel told Joseph this baby would be called Emmanuel, God with us, it was more than helpful naming advice. This was the announcement that the hope of God’s people was about to be fulfilled: God was coming near. The divine, holy Other would soon have skin on. God, the almighty, creator of all things, would not be living in a land far away or housed in a place or time any more special than this one. The birth of the baby called Emmanuel means that this is a holy place, right here. This is sacred time, right now. This is God’s tabernacle, wherever two or three are gathered in his name.

And sisters and brothers, this is what it means for you that this particular baby, born in Bethlehem and laid in a manger, is the one who is called Emmanuel, God with us:

If an animal’s feeding trough is a holy enough place for God to hang out, then so is your car, and your living room, your dinner table and your work cubicle.

If an unmarried, teenage girl is holy enough to carry God within her womb and in doing so, change the world, then so are your hands holy enough to do God’s work for the sake of the world.

And if a newborn baby’s body—crying, hungry, wiggly and needy—is honored and respected by God as holy ground, then so is your body to be honored and respected, treated as the holy temple that it is. And, to take it a step further, if the incarnation means that all ground is holy ground, then so too is every body a holy body: Yours and mine. Able and differently abled. Black, white and brown. LGBTQ & A (and every other letter of the alphabet for that matter). “God with us” means God is with all of us, no exceptions.

Dear friends, the next time we gather together, it will be to celebrate what has been spoken by the prophets, revealed in a dream to Joseph, and announced to Mary by the angel Gabriel: That the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel’, which means, ‘God is with us.’ Be not afraid--the king shall come! All earth is hopeful, the Savior comes at last! Mary and Joseph named him Jesus. We call him Savior, our light in the darkness, prince of peace, and our long-expected Jesus, come to set the people free. We call him Emmanuel, God-with-us. Thanks be to God, for the most precious gift of presence. Amen.

Sermon for Advent 3: December 15, 2013

Sermon for Advent 3: December 15, 2013

Matthew 11:2-11

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

Grace and peace to you, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Sisters and brothers of Bethany, I’m sorry to have to stand here and say this, especially on such a festive, snowy December morning and on the day of our Children’s Christmas Pageant, but here it is: I think we’re going to have to cancel Christmas this year.

The thing is, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on the Gospel lesson for this week from Matthew, chapter 11. And while at first I felt very judgmental about John the Baptist and his doubts about Jesus (after all, he was the one who leapt in his mother Elizabeth’s womb when Mary walked in the door—how could he, of all people, doubt Jesus is the Messiah?), at some point it started to make sense to me. John, the prophet who was supposed to be out announcing the coming of the Messiah, was instead sitting in prison. And Jesus, the guy he thought was “the one”, wasn’t doing anything but preaching and healing and eating with sinners. “Prepare the way of the Lord”, preached John. And frankly, I think he expected that if we prepared the royal highway, Jesus would make better use of it. John, and most everybody else, expected that when the Messiah came down that highway there would be a great and dreadful day, a day when evil and sickness and death and violence would be swallowed up and annihilated from the earth. But now John, messenger of the Lord, found himself sitting in prison. And outside, things seemed to be going along as usual.

It’s no wonder John had doubts! In fact, it’s a wonder any of us are sitting here at all, still following this guy Jesus. Because I’ve got to tell you, 2,000 years later, things outside these walls seem to be going as usual, Messiah or not.

Have you read the prayers on our prayer wall? Cancer. Death. Grief. Unemployment. So many people are still waiting for answers.

And have you watched the news? It’s been one year since Newtown; eight months since Boston; seven months since the tornados in Oklahoma; one month since the typhoon in the Philippines; and just 2 days since the last school shooting. So much pain! The whole world is still waiting for answers.

And this is why, dear people, I think we should cancel Christmas. Because, considering the evidence at hand, maybe Jesus really isn’t “the one”. Could this really the “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace” we’ve been waiting for, when he has clearly failed to eliminate evil from the world?

Listen, I know this comes as a shock, but never fear: I’ve sent a letter to Jesus (apparently he doesn’t do email) asking him to positively identify himself before we go to all the expense of throwing him a birthday party this year. After all, if he’s not really the one, then we need to save our resources to celebrate the guy (or girl) who is. If he’s not really the one, then we can stop fighting the “War on Christmas” everyone keeps talking about. And if Jesus is not the one we’ve been waiting for—and I’ve got to tell you, things aren’t looking good at this point—then I really need to start looking at new job opportunities.

Now I was hoping to get a reply before this morning’s sermon, but either the mail was held up, or Jesus was just too busy (or maybe had nothing to say for himself) because I haven’t received any kind of answer yet. So, until further notice, I think we’ll just have to put Christmas on hold.

PAUL: “Oh, sorry, Carrie, I forgot to tell you something. We did actually get a letter from Jesus the other day.” (pulls it out of his pocket from under his robes).

CARRIE: “Really? Paul, why didn’t you tell me?!”

PAUL: “Well, you know, it’s been a little busy around here this time of year.”

CARRIE: “OK, well, don’t keep us in suspense! What does he say?”

PAUL: “He says:

“Dear Carrie: Don’t cancel Christmas! Tell the people what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me. Also, next time, use Twitter. Signed, Jesus.” (Paul sits down)

CARRIE:

Is that it? That’s all it says? Well that’s perfect, Jesus. Just great. Tell the people what you hear and see. That’s your proof? Nice try.

Tell them what you hear and see.

OK, tell them the blind receive their sight: Well, this is easy to disprove, because we have a member right here at Bethany who is blind. In fact she was born that way. Her name is Hannah, and last I checked Hannah still had not received her sight. But then again…something miraculous did happen this week. Many of you generously contributed cash and even mileage points so Hannah and her brothers could go to Disneyworld this Christmas! Of course, Hannah won’t be able to see Mickey, but she’ll hear him, and she’ll feel the rides, and her parents and brothers will receive the gift of memories with her in the Magic Kingdom. “The blind receive their sight.” Do you suppose this is what Jesus means? Do you see what I see? If so, give me an Amen, sisters and brothers!

Jesus said, “Tell them the lame walk”:

Now this one’s tough. I’ve noticed lots of folks walking around with limps lately (me included!) In fact, last Monday our Bible study group gathered, and there was Dick hobbling around with his new titanium toe, and Beth came in on crutches after breaking her foot, and I had just come from yet another visit with the podiatrist. We were a pretty sorry bunch. But you know what? During that meeting, we shared our prayers and concerns, not only about our aching feet, but about the recent death of a parent, the hope of a job interview after long-term unemployment, and the joys of grandchildren about to be born. We laughed and cried and even did a bit of Bible study. We prayed for each other. And when we left, all of us were walking with renewed strength and hope. “The lame walk.” Do you hear what I hear?

Jesus said, “Tell them the lepers are cleansed”:

I have to admit, I don’t know any lepers personally. But I do know that lepers in Jesus’ time were not just sick. They were outcasts, shoved to the edge of town where no one would have to look at them or be infected by them. So I can tell you something I have seen and heard – I’ve received a number of emails from folks who have felt estranged from God for a number of reasons: Some have a gay son or daughter. Some have been divorced and remarried. Some had questions and doubts they never felt safe to ask, so they stayed away instead. But because they’ve experienced Jesus’ wide, extravagant welcome offered not only by Bethany but by the ELCA, they are no longer lepers and outcasts, kept outside the city gates. Now they’re coming back, sitting in these pews, eating at this table, and offering their gifts and talents in the service of God. Jesus cleansed the lepers. Sisters and brothers, do you hear what I hear?

The deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have Good News brought to them:

You know, I thought this would be hard, but I think we’re on a roll! I know some whose ears had never heard a word of grace and forgiveness in their lives, who have heard Good News for the first time right here, in the name of Christ. Because of Jesus, I’ve seen people raised to new life from the darkness of grief, depression, or addiction. I’ve seen how the poor and the homeless have experienced Good News through the ministries of PADS, the Food Pantry, and the Diaper Bank. And thanks to our sponsored missionaries (Danae and Steve Hudson and the Stubbs family) and our own ELCA mission personnel, Rafael and Robert, I have heard how the Good News has been shared all over the world.

Jesus said to tell the people what I’ve seen and heard. Sisters and brothers, do you hear what I hear? Do you see what I see?

So maybe we shouldn’t cancel Christmas after all! After all, even John the Baptist shared doubts at times. And it’s true: the world is not perfect. Bad stuff still happens. Jesus has brought the kingdom, and yet it’s also still on its way. Love has come, a light in the darkness, but we still need to share it. Christmas, then, is not about celebrating one magic day when everything was made perfect. It is about celebrating one night in Bethlehem, when God came near and ushered in a new age--an age of possibility and wonder. An age when it has been revealed to the world, through the birth of a baby, that God is not seated on a throne, far away, but is on the loose in the world, working within and through God’s people. This is our hope. This is our joy. This is who we’ve been waiting for: the child, the child, sleeping in the night. And he will bring us goodness and light. Amen. 

Advent Sermon - Shake Your Presents

Advent Sermon - Matthew 3:1-12

Shake Your Presents

by Pr. Paul Cannon

Grace and Peace Bethany Lutheran Church!

Oh joy.  I’ll tell you what – Advent is a strange season in the church year.  Last week, the gospel text talked about floods and people being left in fields and the need to be watchful.  This week, the gospel text is John the Baptist talking about fire and repentance and baptism.  Again, I say, “oh what joy.”

Though I say that with a hint (wink wink) of sarcasm, part of me wonders if there is a whole lot more to this text than what meets the eye.  With a story that features a wild character like John the Baptist, drawing large crowds of people, it makes you wonder,  “Why?” Why would people walk for miles to listen to this guy. He pretty much hits each item on the avoid-that-guy-checklist.  Crazy man living in the woods? Check.  Is he wearing weird clothes? Check. Does he eat bugs? Check.  Hey, I have an idea, let’s go see what that guy has to say!

Yet here we have John the Baptist preaching repentance to these tremendous crowds of people waiting in line to be baptized. He was drawing so much attention that the religious leaders – the Pharisees and the Sadducees  - were starting to take notice.

There was a buzz about what was going on – an electric feeling in the air that something special was about to happen. I have to imagine that the feeling in the crowd was one of joy and hope. I know how strange it sounds to talk about Joy and Hope when John is preaching about fire and repentance, but in reality, they are not that different.  

In the Bible, repentance is the greatest cause for joy there is.  What happens when the prodigal son repents and turns back home?  The father throws a party.  Though the thought of repenting – the thought of confessing your sins is scary, the actual act is one of hope and joy.  

And not only that, but John the Baptizer was speaking of an even greater hope.  “You think what I’m doing is great?” He’d tell the crowd, “Something – Some ONE – better is on the way. I’m not even worthy to carry his shoes for him.” 

You see - the Jewish people were longing for the Messiah. They knew that Isaiah prophesied about a leader who was coming to stand in solidarity with the poor and the oppressed, the immigrants and the homeless, the downtrodden and the powerless.  

They were taught that this shoot from Jesse’s tree was coming to bring justice and peace to an unjust and violent world.  Isaiah prophesied, quote, “with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth.”  And that “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf (with) the lion.” For a people who felt far more like the lamb than the lion, I have to imagine this was joyous news. 

So yes, I think is a story about joy and hope, but it’s a different kind of joy.  It’s not Christmas joy, because Christ hasn’t arrived on scene yet.  This is advent joy – it’s the joy of waiting … it’s the joy of anticipation … it’s the joy of hope.

We are all familiar with anticipation around this time of year.  It reminds me in a lot of ways of people eagerly anticipating the opening of their Christmas presents sitting under evergreens in living rooms across the country.  

You all know that feeling right?  Even if you don’t get quite as excited for your grown up gifts anymore (oh boy, a sweater!), you at least remember what it was like to open presents as a kid. I love kids at Christmas time, because they are the WORST at hiding how excited they are to open their gifts.  

As soon as somebody puts a present under the tree, what’s the first thing a child does?  They … “Shake it.”  Right!  They pick it up, and they feel how heavy it is … they judge the dimensions of the package … they listen for the rattle of a new toy - or the gentle swish, swish, swish of a pair of pajamas.  It’s pure joy – before they ever open the package.

Of course, that’s all part of the fun.  Growing up, my brother and I somehow began holding wrapping competitions to see who could fool the other person the most.  One of us would get the other something like a video game and then we would wrap that in a box – heavily fortified with duct tape – and then we would wrap that box in another box – also heavily fortified with duct tape (I’m sure we spent a fortune on duct tape).  And then another box and another layer, until we had the Fort Knox of Christmas gifts.

It even came to the point where we would scavenge around the house looking for items to put in the box to make it heavier, or make weird noises when you shook it.  On Christmas day, the receiver of the gift would inevitably find a baby rattle or the hammer that had been missing from Dad’s tool box for the past month. Trust me when I say – we spared no expense in our wrapping jobs.

It’s hard to know exactly why we spent so much time and energy wrapping up our gifts like this – certainly a big part of this was brotherly one-upsmanship.  Watching the other guy go through the agony of opening layer after layer of the duct-tape-fortified-gift, made the eventual opening of the gift even sweeter. 

But underneath it all, was a feeling that wrapping made the anticipation for the gift opening that much more enjoyable.  There is something about waiting in hope for the day you get to open your present, that produces a child-like joy of its own.

And I think that’s the sort of the feeling that was in the air when John the Baptist was running around the country declaring that something big was on the way – that the Savior, prophesied by Isaiah, was about to roll into town.  It was a feeling of joy and hope.

And then there’s the joy of repentance – the joy of faith – letting go of your old sinful self, to experience the joy and freedom found only – found only - in God’s grace.

The old stereotype that church is stuffy and boring always sounds strange to me for that reason.  Faith is exciting!  I love this stuff.  There is incredible joy in journeying together through all the ups and downs of life.  Reading the Bible, singing hymns, and praying for one another are the greatest sources of hope and joy that this world has to offer.

When you understand this, you’ll know that faith, community and church aren’t just another item on the to-do list, but they are essential aspects of our lives.  Connecting with God – whether it’s through scripture or prayer or music or community or whatever – is what gives life flavor and meaning.

That’s the joy of faith that I think the crowds who were following John the Baptist - this wild-eyed, bug-eating preacher - must have been experiencing.  They were connecting with God’s grace in a way that resonated with them – in a way that brought them joy and hope that the world couldn’t offer. 

That’s why in Paul’s letter to the Romans, he talks about the joy of believing and he asks that our God, the God of Hope to, quote “fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” 

May the God of Hope fill you with all joy in believing.  We forget that, don’t we?  Faith wasn’t meant to be a chore.  Going to church wasn’t meant to be an obligation.  Faith is joy.  Faith is hope.  Faith is the look on a child’s face when they know the present they hope for is waiting for them wrapped under the Christmas tree. 

During this season of Advent, as we all wait to unwrap the gift waiting for us in the manger, my prayer for all of you is that God fills you with that same child-like joy.  I want you to shake this gift of faith – trying to find out what is inside.  I want you to savor the season, like children eagerly waiting for Christmas morning.  I want you to soak everything in as we slowly add decorations around the sanctuary – one Christmas wreath at a time – one layer of duct tape at a time.  

Before I finish here, there’s something I want you to do: I want you to figure out what brings you joy during this Christmas season.  With so much business and stress, it’s easy to focus on the negative.  It’s easy to complain.  But right now, I want you to close your eyes … take a few deep breaths … and picture whatever it is that brings you the most joy in this Advent season.  (wait) Now open your eyes, turn to your neighbor, and tell them what you thought of. 

And now let me leave you one more time with the blessing of the Apostle Paul, “May the God of Hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope, by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Amen.