April 7, 2019 (Lent 5)

Service for the Lord’s Day

Indian Hill Church

Cincinnati, OH

Isaiah 43:16-21

Psalm 126

John 12:1-8

Reverend Dr. Stephen Caine

Let us pray: Almighty God, your Son came into the world to free us all from sin and death. Breathe on us with the power of your Spirit, that we may be raised to new life in Christ and serve you in holiness and righteousness all our days; through Jesus Christ, our Lord, we pray. Amen.

43:¹⁶ “Thus says the LORD, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, ¹⁷ who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick. ¹⁸ Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old. ¹⁹ I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. ²⁰ The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, ²¹ the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.” (Isaiah 43:16-21, NRSV)

Have you noticed any newness around you? This morning when the service is over, and you are walking to your car notice the daffodil’s coming up. In the midst of the cold and rainy weather we have had the last few weeks have you noticed that the trees are budding, the weeds in the yard are turning green?

As spring is trying to bloom on us.  Is it a coincidence that we read this from the Prophet Isaiah concerns newness?  The Israelites didn’t notice the newness that was breaking forth all around them because they were too concerned with their own struggles.  They were fearful and lost, overwhelmed by their circumstances.  In order to fully understand their predicament, we have to look at what happened prior to this passage.

          In chapter 39, the prophet Isaiah foretells of Judah’s exile in Babylon. Then the next two chapters 39 and 40, 150 years pass. It is during this 150-year period that Israel is led into captivity just as Isaiah, the prophet had predicted.  The temple and the whole city of Jerusalem were both destroyed.  The Israelites were living in exile, whose lives had become nothing but chaos and confusion.  The crisis the Israelites were living through would be a harsh test for the most secure, the strongest an the most faithful people of any time period. Chaos became the norm. The people lost their way.  The poet, William Butler Yeats describes so well, “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”[1]

It is exactly into all of this chaos and destruction that God delivers the judgement on the people of Israel, because they were not living faithful lives.  God expresses divine anger.  Because of their sinfulness the people of Israel have lost favor in God’s eyes.  They wondered if this might be the sin that breaks the covenant?  These are people who have seen destruction, been in exile, afraid, lost and alone.  They lived with the humiliation of being held captive and over time they lost their understanding of God.  Now they were exiled from both the land and from the notion that God would protect and provide for them.[2]

Remember this as we move forward to Isaiah 43, the Prophet Isaiah spoke the word from the Lord.  He proclaims salvation to the people of God.  He tells of God’s promises that came from a particular past, Isaiah reminds them of the Red Sea, retelling Exodus event, what God once did for the slaves, God is doing for the exiles.  God is going to make a way where once there was no way.

Isaiah’s confidence to speak so boldly is built on God’s ability to do a new thing that God has done before and will do again.   Isaiah talks about hope that is not manufactured but is actually rooted in the glories of Israel’s past.  Precisely because of what God did at the Red Sea and in the Exodus event, Israel can believe that God will act again.

When all of the sudden Isaiah makes a drastic change from talking about the glories of the past and abruptly, he says: Do not remember the former things or things of old.  This is where the passage gets tough.  Forgetting our past is not what our counselors and psychiatrists tell us to do.  They have a word for someone who refuses to deal with the past: the word is “denial.”  People in denial are like ostriches who stick their heads in the sand, or a person who pretends that everything is fine, normal, when an enormous elephant is sitting in the middle of the room.   Do not remember the former things?  That’s not what our teachers and religious leaders tell us.  That is not what Jesus even tells us: “Do this in remembrance of me…”[3]

Remember the famous quote of George Santayana, the Spanish-American philosopher, poet, and humanist: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”[4]  One look at the newspaper tells us that is true.  And those of us who try to live as people of faith in this confusing world we have traditions, and sacred stories, and scriptures that we read, over and over and we hold on to them.  We aren’t in the business of forgetting tradition.  We work at remembering it, we try to keep it, and we try to live by it, honestly and faithfully. Do not remember the former things? 

How are we supposed to do that?[5]

Isaiah means don’t live in the past, don’t dwell on what was, don’t just sit around and wish for the good ole days.  Appreciate what God has done in the past but live in the present.  Be alive now, in this moment, for such a time like this.

In this passage from Isaiah, we are given words to live by.  God’s promise to Israel, and God’s promise to us, is that each day we live in this beautiful journey called life, God will do a new thing.  God will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

It’s a strange promise God makes, when you think about it.  God doesn’t promise to domesticate the wilderness; only to make a way through it.  God doesn’t promise to take away the desert, or take you out of it, only to find some water in it. God doesn’t promise to tame the wild animals; no, the only promise is to make a way and to find the water, so that even the wild animals and other people will stop and see the new thing and honor God.

I think that is the promise for us, for all of us.  God will do a new thing.  No matter how wonderful or how awful things seem to us today, God will do a new thing.  No matter how tired we may be tomorrow, God will do a new thing.  No matter how mundane the routine, or sleepless the night, or painful the argument, God will do a new thing.  And it isn’t clear what that will be; there is no promise to fix or mend or put more hours in the day.  There is only the promise to make a way in the wilderness, a river in the desert – if we will look for it. “I am about to do a new thing,” says God.

On this fifth Sunday of Lent, may each of us wake up each morning and say to ourselves and those we love,

“Today, God is about to do a new thing.  If and then, let us open our eyes, our ears, and our hearts and go out and look for it.  Don’t let your imagination be closed off by what has come before.  Remember what you have; the former things: seas that split open so that the people could pass through on dry land; pillars of fire in the night that led the people through the wilderness; rocks that rolled away from the tomb.  The dead raised; the lost found, the prodigal welcomed home, sin forgiven.  We have a memory of God at work in our lives.” 

It is a question we asked our Confirmation Class this weekend on the retreat, where have you seen God at work?  If you haven’t then maybe you haven’t been looking!

For this is the day that the Lord has made.  God is about to do a new thing.

Do you see the newness around you?

Let us pray:

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[1] Dr. Paul Hanson, Interpterion Series, (Biblical Commentary series) page 5.

[2] Reverend Dr. Craig Barnes, “On the Wild Side Isaiah 43:16·21. National Presbyterian Church, Washington, DC.

[3] Reverend Dr. Anna Carter Florence, “A New Thing,” Isaiah 43:16-21. Program #5013 January 7, 2007.

[4] George Santayana, The Life of Reason: Reason in Common Sense. Scribner’s, 1905: page 284.

[5] Reverend Dr. Anna Carter Florence, “A New Thing,” Isaiah 43:16-21. Program #5013 January 7, 2007.

March 3, 2019 (Transfiguration Sunday)

Service for the Lord’s Day

Indian Hill Church

Cincinnati, OH

Exodus 34:29-35

Psalm 99

Luke 9:28-36

Reverend Dr. Stephen Caine

34:²⁹“Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. ³⁰ When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him. ³¹ But Moses called to them; and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses spoke with them. ³² Afterward all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the LORD had spoken with him on Mount Sinai. ³³ When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face; ³⁴ but whenever Moses went in before the LORD to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, ³⁵ the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining; and Moses would put the veil on his face again, until he went in to speak with him.” (Exodus 34:29-35, NRSV)

9:²⁸“Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. ²⁹ And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. ³⁰ Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. ³¹ They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. ³² Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. ³³ Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” — not knowing what he said. ³⁴ While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. ³⁵ Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” ³⁶ When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.(Luke 9:28-36, NRSV)

Let us pray: Holy God, mighty and immortal, you are beyond our knowing,

yet we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ, whose compassion illumines the world. Transform us into the likeness of the love of Christ, who renewed our humanity so that we may share in his divinity, the same Jesus Christ, our Lord, who live and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

There are some things in life that the only appropriate response is silence.  There is no commentary that needs to be added.

I heard a description of this silence from John Buchanan, the former pastor of Fourth Church in Chicago and he is a season ticket holder to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.  He writes, that moment at the end of the performance when the audience sits in silence, waiting just a moment before the clapping begins.  It is a moment, just a moment to savor the beauty.  Instead of all the explanations of how the violinist created those sounds or how the pianist’ particular technique created such beauty, the only response the audience can come up with is a moment of silence.

Musicians and Poets seem to get that silence, perhaps more than us regular people.  Mary Oliver, who died in Janaury, is one such poet who gets this since of silence. Her poem entitled “Mockingbirds”.  It goes like this:

This morning

two mockingbirds

in the green field

were spinning and tossing

the white ribbons

of their songs

into the air.

I had nothing

better to do

than listen.

I mean this

seriously.

Wherever it was

I was supposed to be

this morning

Whatever it was I said

I would be doing

I was standing

at the edge of the field

through my own soul

opening its dark doors

I was leaning out

I was listening.[1]

Silence, listening, quiet, sometimes it all that is necessary.

But oh, how often we mess it up.  We think we need words to explain, commentary to make sense of it.  Or maybe it is just plain fear.  Whatever it is, so often we mess up the silence with trying to talk.  I do it all the time.  When I am in a conversation with someone and there is too much silence, somehow, I think it is my duty to fill in the silence, to help bring comfort and ease.  Instead of just being, just sitting in the silence.  I did it just this week.  For the devotional at our weekly staff meeting we spent the first five minutes silently reflecting on our blessings, struggles and inviting God into them. It was so difficult to sit still and be quiet. I couldn’t wait to start talking.

If you are like me in this way, then we are in good company.  Jesus took Peter, James and John with him up on the mountain to pray.  While they were up there, something awesome, miraculous, bizarre happened.  Jesus was transfigured right before their very eyes and Moses and Elijah who had been dead a long, long time were standing there next to Jesus.  When I envision that moment, I think it must have been like that moment of silence right after the symphony plays.  Just silence to take it all in.  Or that moment in Mary Oliver’s poem where nothing else mattered at the moment but to sit and listen and watch and be silent.

But Peter just can’t do it.  It has to be Peter.  Peter strikes me as the one who couldn’t quiet stand the silence.  Whenever there was a moment of silence, he was the one to impetuously say something, anything, to fill the void.  He did it up there on that mountain.  He breaks the moment of awe, the moment of silence with “Master let’s build three tents and just stay here.”  It didn’t make any sense, it wasn’t what Jesus was about.  It was like he was nervous and just chattering away.  The text even tells us that Peter didn’t know what he said.  He was just talking, just filling the void.

So, God comes and makes it clear what all this transfiguration was supposed to mean.  What Peter and the others were supposed to get from it.  A cloud comes and God speaks from the cloud saying, “This is my son, my Chosen, listen to him!”  Don’t talk too much.  Don’t make sense of every little thing, just be, just sit in the silence and listen for Jesus.  Listen to him.

The text tells us that after God spoke, they went down the mountain and they kept silent.  They didn’t speak of it to anyone.  They simply let the experience be.  They learned to stop talking and explaining and chattering so that they might just listen to Jesus.

So much of our religion has forgotten the importance of silence, the importance of not explaining everything, of not even understanding everything.  I read this week of a minister who got a letter from a woman who was struggling with church.  She wrote: “They take all the mystery and awesomeness out of God.  They know all the answers and can tell you what God felt and thought.”[2]

Part of what I take from this transfiguration story is that we don’t have to explain away everything. Sometimes it is okay just to be, well, silent. 

We can’t stay there all the time.  We are not monks or nuns called to a silent existence of prayer.  We have to come down the mountain.  We all to come back to life, to business as usual, to reality.  Jesus came down the mountain and the very next day a father comes to Jesus begging for help for his son.  Jesus didn’t build three tents to stay on the mountain, he came back down to reality, a desperate plea for help from a frantic father. 

Isn’t that the rhythm of our Christian life.  To go from the mystery of the mountain, the awesomeness of God’s holiness to a frantic father who is crying out for help.  “The mysterious holiness of the mountain and the blunt reality of human life and human need and human suffering.”[3]

It is kind of like the picture of the church, or what the church should be.  We come to worship and glorify God.  We are relatively quiet for an hour or so and we sit in the holiness of worship.  Then we leave and life hits us, out there in the world where there are lots of fathers crying out for lots of sons, where there is hunger and fear and need.  The church is worship and service.  You can’t have one without the other.

This coming Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, when we begin the journey of Lent.  We walk with Jesus for 40 days and 40 nights as he begins his journey to the cross.  We begin it too.  We will have lots of time to talk about Lent and think about what it means, but I want to challenge us before it starts to think of this Lenten season as being up there on the mountain with Jesus.  Not to talk too much and try to put words to it so much, but to have time for silence, for quiet, for listening.  We’ll come down the mountain with Jesus.  We will come down to busy lives and frantic cries for help, but we need that mountain.  So, figure out where and how and when you are going to be silent and listen and simple be this Lenten season. 

I close with part of another poem, In Silence by Thomas Merton, American Trappist monk, writer, theologian, mystic, poet, social activist.

Be still

Listen to the stones of the wall

Be silent, they try

to speak

your name.

Listen

to the living walls.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Whose silence are you?[4]

          And from Psalm 46 “Be still and know that I am God.” 

So, let’s try it, just for a moment.  Let’s sit in silence.  Let’s just be for a moment.

Let us pray: In the silence of this hour, O God, speak to us of eternal things.  Prepare us for the walk down the mountain, down to your children, the ones in need.  Give us hearts and spirits and faith to care.  Speak to us of your will for our lives and for your world.  Amen.

---

[1] The Atlantic Monthly Company, Feb. 1994, Volume 273, No 2, page 80 Copyright © 1994 by The Atlantic Monthly Company. All rights reserved. https://www.theatlantic.com/past/docs/unbound/poetry/atlpoets/oliv9402.htm

[2] Reverend Dr. John Buchanan, Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, 2-18-10

[3] Ibid.

[4] In Silence by Thomas Merton, http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/blog/2013-09-27/thomas-merton-in-silence-2/

The Strange Islands: Poems Hardcover – 1957

February 3, 2019

The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

Service for the Lord’s Day with Installation of Vestry Session Officers

Indian Hill Church

Cincinnati, OH

Jeremiah 1:4-10

Psalm 71:1-6

Luke 4:21-30

Reverend Dr. Stephen Caine

4:²¹ Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” ²² All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” ²³ He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.'” ²⁴ And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown. ²⁵ But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; ²⁶ yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. ²⁷ There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.” ²⁸ When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. ²⁹ They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. ³⁰ But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way. (Luke 4:21-30, NRSV)

Let us pray: O God of all the prophets, you knew us and chose us before you formed us in the womb. Fill us with faith that speaks your word, hope that does not disappoint, and love that bears all things for your sake, until that day when we shall know you fully, even as we are known by you. Amen.

In a church a long way from here the preacher stood to preach. Her sermon notes were arranged on the pulpit.  Just as the preacher was about to begin, a woman walked into the sanctuary off the street and proceeded to walk down the center aisle to the front of the sanctuary shouting, “I have a word from the Lord!”

The congregation was startled, this kind of thing never happens in their stately church.  All their heads swirled to see this interruption and to see how the preacher would handle her.  What word from the Lord could this woman possibly bring? Before anyone could find out – the ushers sprang into action and they asked the woman to follow them out of the sanctuary and into the church parlor where they could speak with her and calm her down.

Interesting, isn’t it? Sunday after Sunday, George and I stand up here, he walks and talks and I stand behind this pulpit, we read stories from the bible, and some of them are very strange and when we finish, we say: The Word of The Lord. And you respond: Thanks be to God!

As far as I can tell nobody gets tense or angry.  Your heads don’t spin in concern.  The ushers don’t leap into action. Instead, people follow along in their bibles or the pew bibles. Some of you fiddle with your bulletins. Others of you look at your watches wondering how much longer will he go on? Still others look around gazing out the beautiful windows, watching the squirrels  steal food from the bird feeders. Or you look to make sure your child is not causing trouble and some of you are deep in thought. Nobody is overly concerned when George or I finish the scripture reading and say, The Word of the Lord.

I guess this story points out that how the person who is addressing the congregation is perceived says a lot about how their message will be heard, but that is another sermon for another day.

It was a normal Sabbath in Nazareth, just what you would expect.  A son of the synagogue had come home, Joseph and Mary’s boy, Jesus, was home for the weekend.  He was invited to read the lesson and say a few words.  He was well known by the congregation.   They remembered him as a young boy growing up in their congregation.  They remembered him running through the synagogue and playing with their children.   They remembered his bar mitzvah and what a stellar student he was.   They were proud of him and what he had made of himself.  They heard that he was traveling in Capernaum and other towns preaching and healing. They were so excited for him and that he was one of their own.  So, they settled in to listen to what he had to say.  And he began speaking…The word of the Lord.

We say it, just like we said it moments ago, “Thanks be to God” for the word of the Lord — but do we really want to hear it?  When you stop and think about it the word of the Lord can be disruptive.  The word of the Lord is news, good news, but this good news changes things, and most of us don’t like to change. Someone has said that when we read the newspaper or watch the news on TV, we are not really interested in news.  What we are interested in is confirming that the world is pretty much the same.

“Politician A criticizes politician B.”

“A gunman kills…”

“There is more violence and death in the Middle East.”

“The President tweeted again, and this group of people is upset.”

“Yep! Sure enough, that is what we expected. That is the way the world is and always will be!”

Good news — real good news — is surprising, unexpected and world changing! Good news means that the world is not the way it was yesterday.  A word from the Lord — good news!  Good news means change, and we all know how much Presbyterians and Episcopalians love change.

So, Jesus came home and preached good news to the people of Nazareth.  At first, they listened with a smile.  No one was tense.  No ushers rushed into action.  People in the pew were proud of him.  Think how Mary and Joseph must have been about to burst with pride at what a fine young man their son had grown into.

But then his words sunk in. “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Today on the first Sunday of February— not yesterday, not sometime in ancient history— but today.  Today these words are fulfilled—fulfilled— coming true, made real, enacted, in your very midst, in your hearing—today! 

What happened that day in Nazareth is this: Jesus preached from Isaiah about God’s love, about God’s grace.   Scripture tells us that all those who heard Jesus, “spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.”  Then in a matter of moments that adoring congregation turns into a lynch mob.  They got up and drove him out of town and tried to throw him off a cliff.

Let’s get this straight:  Jesus preaches about grace, and it makes people so angry that they tried to kill him.  Luke tells us that Jesus reads this passage from Isaiah about God’s grace and reminds the congregation of two stories from the Torah.  One story is about Elijah who helped the widow at Zarephath during a severe famine and the other is about Elisha, who healed a leper of Syria, a foreigner.  Jesus uses the Torah, their sacred text to show his hometown congregation that there is a wideness in God’s grace and that there are no limits to God’s love.  Aha!  That is what happened that day in Nazareth!  Jesus preached the Unexpected and Inconvenient Word of the Lord.

Jesus begins by saying… “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.”  The congregation expected Joseph’s boy to affirm them and to confirm for them their deeply held belief that they alone were the recipients of God’s grace.   But Jesus understood that he is God’s son, and that in his baptism he was anointed to fulfill the purposes of God.  Those purposes include all people, not just the good folks listening to him that day in Nazareth. And when Jesus preached the good news of God’s love and grace, they got angry!

The Bible has a way of doing that to us!  There is a wideness in God’s mercy that sometimes makes us angry.  There is a deep irony in this story: the sinful yet all too human tendency to resent God’s generosity to others.  We are happy to be recipients of God’s grace and generosity, but we get angry when others are included in God’s gift.

In a synagogue on that day, and in our congregation on Super Bowl Sunday and in churches all over the world, somebody is reading scripture.  Somebody is standing up and reading about God, the one who created heaven and earth, who filled the night sky with stars and put fish in the sea, who created and loves human beings with such deep and passionate love that he gave his only Son to die on a cross to save us from our sin — that God loves each of us, all shapes and sizes, all colors and nationalities, all economic classes and physical needs, the well fed and the hungry — and that is Good News and it changes lives.  The great Good News of Scripture, the good news that angered the people at Nazareth that day is that God loves us, all of us!  God always has and God always will.  Friends, this is the word of the Lord. Thanks Be to God!

Let us pray: O God of grace, we long for your presence, but that grace often comes to lead us in surprising directions. Open our hearts to trust the ways of your work among us, most surprisingly in the gift of your son, Jesus. Amen.

January 6, 2019 (Epiphany)

Service for the Lord’s Day with Holy Communion

Indian Hill Church

Cincinnati, OH

Isaiah 60:1-6

Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14

Matthew 2:1-12

Reverend Dr. Stephen Caine

60:¹ Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you. ² For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. ³ Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn. ⁴ Lift up your eyes and look around; they all gather together, they come to you; your sons shall come from far away, and your daughters shall be carried on their nurses’ arms. ⁵ Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice, because the abundance of the sea shall be brought to you, the wealth of the nations shall come to you. ⁶ A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the LORD. (Isaiah 60:1-6, NRSV)

2:¹ In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, ² asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.”  ³ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. ⁵ They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: ⁶ ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.'”  ⁷ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” ⁹ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was.  ¹⁰ When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹ On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  ¹² And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. (Matthew 2:1-12, NRSV)

Let us pray: O God of light and peace, whose glory, shining in the child of Bethlehem, still draws the nations to yourself: dispel the darkness that shrouds our path, that we may come to kneel before Christ in true worship, offer him our hearts and souls, and return from his presence to live as he has taught. Amen.

It is hard getting back to reality after the Christmas season this year.   Not that any year is easy to come back to reality following the highs of Christmas, but this year seems much harder!  I wanted to hold on to the excitement and the hope and the joy of, yet another beautiful Christmas Eve this year with four beautiful services followed by the wonder of Christmas morning.  I wanted to stay in the comfort of my family.  Of course, none of that can last.  Family time can get old when we stay too long.  The excitement and hope of Christmas morning cannot be sustained much past noon.  And I certainly cannot continue to eat like I did for the last few weeks.  Reality has come back and come back way to fast!  Listening is important in life and in faith and it helps to listen to the familiar story of the three wisemen to ease the harshness of reality. 

It is story for all the senses.  You can see this story in your mind, you can feel this story, but one of the most often overlooked parts of this story is the listening.  I want us to notice that the wisemen listened and it is something to pay very close attention too.  Listening is important in life and in faith.

Many centuries ago, these wise men living in the Eastern lands of the ancient world, probably from Persia, which is modern day Iran.   Were fascinated by an amazing sight in the night sky, the rising of a new star, or maybe it was a comet blazing brightly across dark winter sky.  They knew this brilliant light was no normal star, it had to be a sign that something momentous had happened.

We won’t sing it today but the Christmas carol “We three kings of Orient are…” is technically incorrect because they weren’t kings.  More than likely they were philosophers and astrologers, some scholars believe they were Zoroastrian priests.  But whoever they were, these wise men kept watch on the night sky.  Looking for signs and clues in the heavens above. 

So, Matthew tells us that just as Jesus was born, they saw this new star rising in the western sky over Judea, the land of the Jews.  Using all their powers of analysis and interpretation, they determined that this star was a sign that a new king had been born.

Intrigued, these wise men wanted to find out who this king was, and they wanted to pay him respect.  So, they set out toward the west in the direction of Judea and they followed the bright star in the sky.  The bible doesn’t tell us how they traveled but our imaginations tell us they had to have ridden camels because what else do you travel in the desert?  Matthew tells us when they reached the city of Jerusalem, they immediately went to Herod’s palace.  Herod was the only king in that region.  So, it made perfect sense for these Iranian Magi to show up at Herod’s palace asking to see the new king.  Now this is where the story gets interesting.

Apparently, Herod didn’t watch the stars or listen to his advisors who did because he was totally unaware of any new king.  Neither did he know what the wise men were talking about.  As he listened to them, he was filled with fear.  Acting on his fear he orders his soldiers to destroy the threat and kill all the boys in Bethlehem, 2 years old and under.  While Herod was afraid the Wisemen, were filled with intrigue and as they listened, they wanted to see this miraculous event. They listened as Herod told them to go to Bethlehem, and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.[1] The wisemen left the palace and followed the star that led them directly to Bethlehem and the stable where they found the baby.

What they did not know was that this baby, this new king born in Judea was not only the King of the Jews, but actually the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the savior of all, and his name was Jesus.

So, when the wisemen entered the stable, they bowed down before the infant Jesus and offered him their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  What kind of gifts are those?  Scholars think that frankincense was presented to the infant Jesus to symbolize his later role as a high priest for believers while myrrh symbolized his later death and burial.

We don’t know much about the wisemen, except they were outsiders, Iranian astrologers, it is believed that they traveled well over 1,000 miles to come and worship the king.  While King Herod, an insider, was scared by the threat of a baby, a mere 6 miles away in Bethlehem.  But these strange foreign pagan wisemen were unafraid and followed the star and found the king.  As much as we might want to see these Wise Men as innocent and uninformed immigrant travelers, they are so much more. They bear witness to the new king, the real king, even though they not born into the faith, or raised in the faith, they believe.  They trust their own experience, their own encounter, their own epiphany.  They understand that there just might be more to the story than what they have been told.  And therein lies the heart of our Christian faith.[2]  They followed the star because they listened, they keep on going and found the real king.  Listening is important in life and in faith.

It is especially important for us here at IHC beginning a New Year to listen.  We, the Vestry Session will be presenting a new plan for the mission and ministry of our church.  It is a positive plan for growth and discipleship.  It is a plan to streamline policies and procedures, build on our strengths and improve our growth areas. All of this is to say that a major component of this year we will need to listen, listen to each other, and most especially listen for God. Listening is important in life and in faith.

What will you and I listen for this year? Frederick Buechner the American writer and theologian encourages us to, “Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is.  In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.” There is no event, no moment that God is not present.[3]

How appropriate that we start 2019 off in the church with Holy Communion.  How fitting to begin a New Year with breaking bread together, not alone, not distant, but together, around Christ’s table.  For it is in a community of faith where we help each other listen and find the holy, the meaningful, the hopes to sustain us this new year and beyond.  What a blessing to remind each other that Christ died for you and for me so that we might have life, abundant life both now and forever.  Christmas might be gone for another 353 days, but the peace and joy and hope remain.  Listening is important in life and in faith, so let us listen to our lives and for God.

Let us pray

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[1] Matthew 2:9, NRSV

[2] Reverend Dr. Caroline Lewis

[3] Reverend Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life, Daily Meditations with Frederick Buechner Page 2, (1992)

December 23, 2018 (Advent 4)

Service for the Lord’s Day

Indian Hill Church

Cincinnati, OH

Micah 5:2-5

Luke 1:37-45

Reverend Dr. Stephen Caine

1:³⁹ In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country,⁴⁰ where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. ⁴¹ When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit ⁴² and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. ⁴³ And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? ⁴⁴ For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. ⁴⁵ And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” ⁴⁶ And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, ⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; ⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. ⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. ⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. ⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; ⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. ⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, ⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” (Luke 1:39-55, NRSV)

Let us Pray – O God of Elizabeth and Mary, you visited your servants with good news of great joy of the world’s redemption in the coming of the Savior. Make our hearts leap with joy, and fill our mouths with songs of praise, that we may announce glad tidings of peace, and welcome the Christ in our midst. Amen.

Songs or hymns are an integral aspect of faith. Music, songs and hymns can speak to us in ways that words, and liturgy can never touch.  Songs, music, hymns can inspire, they can upset, they can make us cry, laugh and inspire us to love.   Songs can get away with things that the spoken or written word can never dream of.  For example, some of the rap music my children listen to on their phones, if they said those words, they would have their mouths washed out with soap.   Songs can inspire, for example, the 1960’s were filled with songs of protest, struggle and fighting the establishment.  The riots in Paris in the May of 1968 prompted John Lennon to write “Revolution,” the first one recorded for the Beatles, “White Album”, in 1968.   The American troubadour Bob Dylan wrote his classic protest song, “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” in 1963. The song sums up the tensions of post- World War II and Korean War America. He wrote it just before the Cuban Missile Crisis.   Keep these types of songs in mind as we think about the song Mary sings in our gospel reading for today.

As Luke tells it, Mary sings a song.  The Church named this song The Magnificat.  While we may not know this ancient hymn by heart, we know it because it has been set to music by dozens of composers.

Mary visits her pregnant cousin Elizabeth, who confirms the message that the angel Gabriel revealed to Mary: that she was pregnant and the child she carried was God’s child.   After Elizabeth pronounced a blessing, Mary poured out this song.

This sort of behavior, singing, was completely out of character for Middle Eastern Jews in the first century.  How could Mary possibly sing this song given the harsh reality of her circumstances.  She sings, “The Lord has looked with favor on the lowliness of the Lord’s servant.”   The word “lowliness” here means poor, but literally it means, dirt poor.  Mary, a dirt poor, unmarried and pregnant woman, actually, she was more like a thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl with absolutely no standing in community, no safety net to protect her.  But somehow, some way, her explanation for her situation was it was the work of God.  We have a word for that – crazy.  The Old Testament book of Deuteronomy clearly states in chapter 22 that under this kind of circumstance, a woman could be stoned to death.  So, how can Mary possibly sing?[1]  Not only does she sing, but she sings a powerful, and very political song of joy.

I have heard many people say, just stick to the bible, it is not political…well this is about as political as it gets.  I am not talking about Democrats and Republicans, red states and blue states but a powerful statement against the ruling governments of her day.[2] 

Notice the words of Mary song.  She begins with words of praise and gratitude, then goes on to note that God has brought down rulers from their thrones.  Everyone knew who the ruler was: Herod.  Herod the Great, that is, who had been given the title “King of the Jews” by the Roman senate decades earlier.[3]

Remember Herod?  Herod knew how power worked.  He was connected to Julius Caesar until Caesar was assassinated, then Herod convinced Mark Antony that he was on Antony’s side.  When Caesar Augustus overthrew Mark Antony, Herod claimed that he was really a supporter of Caesar Augustus and not for Mark Antony.  Herod seems like a real opportunist.

Herod built huge buildings.  One reason the temple became so controversial in Jesus’ day was that it was built from the taxes paid by the poor. Herod confiscated their land so that he could be Herod the Great.  Herod grew wealthy by overtaxing the poor.  Herod knew people hated him, so the story goes that he planned that on the day he died, he had 70 elite Jewish citizens imprisoned with orders that they be executed on the day of his death so that there would be tears in Israel.  Herod saw many leaders come and go; he out lasted, outsmarted, outmaneuvered and outfoxed them all.   So, this was the power that Mary’s song is against.  A song that is not only about joy and gratitude but a powerful song of resistance with the promise that God cared about the plight of the poor, the least, the last, the lost and the Jews who suffered greatly under Herod and Roman imperial power.[4]

This is the reality in which the meek and mild Mary sings:

He (God) has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts,

He (God) has brought down rulers from their thrones… [He has] sent the rich away empty.

Woah, wait a moment, let that sink in….

Apparently only two people really understood the prophetic message of Mary’s ballad about the birth of the subversive child of God would be: Herod, the most powerful man in the country, and Mary, a powerless, penniless, illiterate Jewish peasant girl.

To one of them, the birth of the Christ Child was the foundation of desperate hope; to the other it was a catastrophic threat that had to be stopped at all costs.

          Mary’s song goes on…

He (God) has brought down the ruler, but lifted up the humble;

He (God) has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.

Scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts but been mindful of the humble state of his servant.

God is reversing everything: who is in, who’s out; who’s up, who’s down.  Who the winners are; who the losers are.   Pastor, John Ortberg says: “Mary seems to charge the world with having gotten things pretty much exactly wrong.”

We all know how it really works, blessed are the beautiful. Blessed are the rich.  Blessed are the successful.  Blessed are the secure.  Blessed is Herod.  So, as Mary sings, God’s going to turn everything upside down.  Why would anyone pay attention to her, an unimportant migrant peasant girl?   It was years later that her son said: “Blessed are the poor, blessed are the hungry, blessed are the meek.”

Where do you think he learned this?  More than likely sitting in his mother’s lap or as he was trying fall asleep at night her lullaby resonating in his ears.  She must have taught him that it angers God when people are selfish or violent, when rich people watch poor people go hungry and do nothing, when the powerful push around the weak because they can get away with it?

Mary’s son grew up to become a rabbi who didn’t overthrow Herod by using Herod’s methods.  He wouldn’t out-Herod Herod.  Instead he out-loved Herod.  He ultimately overthrew Herod and continues to defeat the would-be Herod’s and their capacity to hate by his greater capacity to suffer.  Her son, born in a stable, grew up in poverty and worked with his hands, humbled himself, even unto death, death on a cross.  He taught wherever people would listen.  He was accused unfairly, tried corruptly and mocked.  He was executed on a cross high on the hill of Calvary.

          So, Mary sings, not knowing fully the importance of her son, the one who will overcome sin through his suffering on a cross.   Mary sings, about God and how God will turn everything upside down, and it will all start with her, a dirt poor, powerless, illiterate, Jewish peasant girl, named Mary.  And of course, her baby boy.[5]

Let us pray:

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[1] The Reverend Dr. KC Ptomey, Jr. A Homily on Luke 1:39-55 for the Third Sunday of Advent on December 17, 2000 at The Westminster Pulpit, Sermons Preached at Westminster Presbyterian Church 3900 West End Avenue, Nashville, Tennessee 37205.

[2] The Reverend Niveen Sarras, Commentary on Luke 1:39-45, (46-55), Pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church of Wausau, Wausau, Wis.

[3] The Reverend Dr. John C. Ortberg, Jr., “Living by the Word: Luke 1:39-45(46-55),” The Christian Century, 2009.

[4] The Reverend Niveen Sarras, Commentary on Luke 1:39-45, (46-55), Pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church of Wausau, Wausau, Wis.

[5] The Reverend Dr. John C. Ortberg, Jr., “Living by the Word: Luke 1:39-45(46-55),” The Christian Century, 2009.

November 18, 2018

(Proper 28/ 26th Sunday after Pentecost / the 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time)

Service for the Lord’s Day

Indian Hill Church

Cincinnati, OH

1 Samuel 1:4-20

Mark 13:1-8

Reverend Dr. Stephen Caine

 

13:¹ As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” ² Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” ³ When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, ⁴ “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” ⁵ Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. ⁶ Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. ⁷ When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. ⁸ For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs. (Mark 13:1-8, NRSV)

 

Let us Pray – God our rock, you create all moments of our lives, giving each its meaning and purpose. Strengthen us to continually witness to the love of Jesus Christ, that we may hold fast in times of trial, even to the end of the ages. Amen.

 

We like Jesus most of the time, don’t we?  I mean what is not to like about turning water into wine, healing the sick, restoring sight to the blind, welcoming children?  All that is great!  But what about the Jesus who we meet today in this apocalyptic story?  He is not so likeable, is he?

 

This Jesus sounds kind of like the guy, I have seen on the street corner with a bullhorn shouting out that we had better get right with God, because hell is hot. He shouts out a litany of sins for which he believes there is no forgiveness.  But that is for another sermon. You know the guy I am talking about, I have seen him at Taste of Cincinnati and most recently I saw him on the corner near Kenwood Mall.

What do you do when you see someone standing on the sidewalk screaming about the end of the world, our destruction, and false messiahs?

 

Do you stop and listen?  Do you shout back at them?  Or do you casually cross to the other side of the street to avoid them at all costs?

 

In the story from Mark, we find Jesus and his disciples as they are leaving the Temple where Jesus has been teaching.  As they are leaving one of his disciples, notices the size of the Temple, and blurts out, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!”

 

Now Jesus has been doing some serious teaching, so the remark from the disciple seems to come straight out of left field.  Jesus has been discussing their mutual obligation to God and to the Empire.  Jesus said, “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”  In response to their inquiry regarding the greatest commandment Jesus said, “Love God with all your heart… and your neighbor as yourself.”  They’ve just had a stewardship lesson as Jesus pointed to a widow who gave her last two pennies, and then Jesus said about her that she had given more than even the most generous, rich member of the community.

 

Jesus had been imparting a lot of truth, deep truth.  So, while it may seem odd that a disciple is distracted by the architecture and the size of the Temple.  Perhaps it really isn’t.  Perhaps, the truth, the deep truth, is at times too much for us; we need a distraction. “Hey, guys, look at this building and check out these large stones!”

 

They were very large stones.  According to the first century historian, Josephus, they were massive stones: thirty-seven feet long, twelve feet high, eighteen feet wide.  The Temple must have been an impressive structure. The Romans destroyed the Temple in the year 70 C.E., all but part of the west wall, which remains to this day.[1]

 

After 70 C.E., anyone, hearing of Jesus’ words about the destruction of the Temple, must have been in awe of his prophetic powers.  They must have also wondered how, a building so massive, so impressive, and so permanent could be thrown to the ground, it must mean the end of the world.

 

What was it Jesus said? “Do not be alarmed…”

 

Then Peter, Andrew, and James privately offer a follow up question: When will this happen?  Jesus does not directly answer their question, but he does admit that no one knows when it will happen.

 

All the natural disasters, violence, wars, and the struggles of our world it is enough to make you wonder.

 

A recent cartoon in “The New Yorker Magazine” pictures two people on the street, carrying signs. One reads, “The end is near for ecological reasons.” The other says, “The end is near for religious reasons.”

 

People have different reasons, but as Pheme Perkins writes, every major world crisis brings its share of books describing events as evidence that the signs in the Book of Revelation are being fulfilled.  Perkins speculates that such claims are a way that human beings try to make sense of traumatic upheavals.

Here’s how Jesus makes sense of these upsetting disturbances, when you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; they must take place, but the end is still to come.  For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines.  This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

 

Jesus clearly does not want his disciples or anyone else for that matter to read more into the trauma and chaos of his prognostication than they should.  What is happening now is not the end, but instead it is the beginning.  The beginning of a period that will only come to an end in God’s good time.   “Do not be alarmed… This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.”    Just as labor pains are a hopeful, wonderful indication of good things to come.  Do not be alarmed; something is being born.  The Apostle Paul puts it this way, “The creation is groaning in expectation.”[2]

 

Jesus takes seriously the reality of suffering, both the suffering of his hearers or our suffering today.  He doesn’t ignore the pain and death in our world.  He is not ignoring the terrorism or the wars or the genocide or the fires or floods or the more personal traumas of human life.  Jesus is not a Pollyanna, he is not denying pain.  Yet, when he compares suffering to birth pangs, he makes a rather radical and comforting theological claim: In the Kingdom of God, suffering has a purpose… it does not, lead to despair, instead it leads to hope, to the anticipated dawn of God’s new day.  Something is being born.

 

And Jesus’ words encourage us to persevere.  So, often we think that our efforts might seem meaningless in the face of the difficult events and troubling news of our day, but we are encouraged to press on, to keep going.  This is not the end; these are birth pangs. Something’s being born.

 

I read an interview recently with Reverend Calvin Butts, he is the pastor of the Abyssinian Baptist Church in New York City.  It is located just north of 125th street in Harlem; it is a beautiful old Gothic Church that rises up above that street in all of its Gothic splendor.  Reverend Butts was asked to describe the ministry and work of his church.  He said, from the spire of that old church one can see just about anything that you could want to see.  Or perhaps more accurately, just about everything that you would not want to see.[3]

 

Blocks and blocks of burned-out apartment buildings.  Shabby little pawn shops, boarded-up storefronts, roach-infested bodegas…vacant lots, which have become illegal dumps.  The street corners are run by prostitutes and crack dealers who ply their trades.  Nights in this neighborhood are punctuated by the sounds of gunfire and sirens, and in the daytime, you can see the school-age kids roaming the streets in gangs.

 

You would think that churches – even big ones like Abyssinian Baptist Church – would want to move out of this sort of neighborhood to somewhere else.  But there they are!  In the middle of Harlem, they just keep on hoping through the birth pangs.  Under Reverend Butts’ leadership, they have set up latchkey programs for children so they have a safe place to go after school, they have put together neighborhood redevelopment agencies, they’ve conducted successful boycotts against corporations that price-gouge the poor, they’ve set up Bible studies in the near-by housing projects.

 

In this interview the writer asked Reverend Butts, “Yeah, sure, you’re doing great stuff; but is it making a difference?  It is hard to see any success in all you do, so what keeps you folks going?  What gives you hope?”

Reverend Butts responded, “Here’s what gives us hope and keeps us going. We’ve read the Bible, and we know how it ends. We aren’t at the end yet,” he said, “but we know how it ends, and that makes all the difference in the world.”

 

We, too, have read our Bibles; and we, too, know how it ends, don’t we? That’s what keeps us going, keeps us supporting IPM and MEAC, volunteering the PWC and Saturday Hoops, and sheltering homeless families with IHN; and feeding the hungry through MEAC and IPM and La Soup, the Free Store Food Bank, it is what keeps us doing our part in the full confidence that we are sharing in God’s grand plan.

 

Life can be overwhelming.  The world seems to be in such a mess, and our efforts so insignificant.  But we believe Jesus words: These are but birth pangs. This isn’t the end of the story.  It’s the beginning.  But we know how it ends. It ends with God.

 

Let us pray:

 

 

 

[1] Reverend Dr. KC Ptomey, A Homily on Mark 13:1 10, Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 19, 2006. The Westminster Pulpit Sermons Preached at Westminster Presbyterian Church 3900 West End Avenue Nashville, Tennessee 37205-1899.

 

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.