Specific focus in the big picture . . .

     We have spent a great deal of the last three weeks reminding ourselves that Jesus came among us and dwelt with us.  Given all the tragedies, both at the national and local level, such has certainly been appropriate.  It is very comforting to know that our Lord knows our sufferings, our fears, our hurts, and our frailties.  Some of us have spent time on conversations reminding ourselves that God cares for each one of us, where we are in our our faith walk with Him.  He proved that love of each one of us at great cost to Himself, not just during the Incarnation but during His life that led to Calvary.  But that comfort would be empty were His only characteristic empathy.  We all know empathetic people in our life.  They are the people who cluck at all our sufferings or faults and cheer us on as we strive in life.  But their empathy only sustains us for so long.  Eventually, we want more than a cheerleader, we want more than for someone to feel sorry for us when we are beset by sorrows.  Enter John and his discussion of Jesus of Nazareth.

     The passage that we read today we also read at the Christmas Eve service as we light the candles in the darkness.  Those who pay close attention to the Christmas narrative may notice that there is a big difference between John’s account and the accounts of Matthew, Mark, and Luke.  All that we know about events surrounding the birth of Jesus, we know from Matthew, Mark, and Luke.  It is in their accounts that we learn of Jesus’ genealogy, of the conception by the Holy Spirit on the young Mary, of the struggle that Joseph faced, of the inn being full, the babe being wrapped in swaths of cloths and laid in a manger, of angels proclaiming to shepherds the significance of the birth of the baby, of the magi and a host of the other details that we all know and love.  How does John announce the birth of Jesus?  The passage is famous for its beauty and the truth it conveys, but there is no Bethlehem manger scene, no chorus of angels, no cattle lowing.  In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

     If you are new to the Church and new to the parish, these words might seem a strange way to announce the birth of the King of kings and Lord of lords.  Where’s Mary and Joseph?  Where’s the hymns?  How did the birth take place?  Those details are skipped in lieu of a different focus by John.  While part of Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s purpose has been to teach us that God has come to dwell among us, that the Incarnation means that Jesus is fully human and, therefore, understands us completely.  John, though, has another focus.  John wants us to focus on the fact that the birth which we celebrated this past Tuesday is THE signature event of God’s plan of salvation and of cosmic history.  To be sure, it is an amazing plan.  Considering the obstacles that we have tried to place in front of God, considering the scope of history -- the rise and fall of empires, and considering our very nature and our unworth, the birth of Jesus is nothing less that the second greatest miracle in history!  I use that term second best only relatively or as a picker of nits.  Without Easter, Christmas is meaningless.  Of course, the opposite is true as well.  Easter without Christmas is worthless.  We, you and I, need both.  But that is a sermon for another time . . . .

     John’s focus, though, is a reminder that the course of history has pointed toward this birth.  In what amounts to a Scriptural reset, John takes us back beyond Jesus’ birth to that “time” that preceded creation.  In the beginning was the Word . . . You cannot, you should not read John’s introduction without being reminded of the breath of God brooding over the waters of Genesis.  In the beginning God created . . . The Word, Jesus, was with God for all eternity.  Furthermore, God created all things through Him.  Want to know your image, how you were created in the image of God?  You were gloriously created in His image.  How do we know?  And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us . . . He became one of us.  Though He was wrapped in deity, He chose to become fully human and was born of a woman into this time and this space and this earth.  He took on finite nature, human nature.  We could spend weeks discussing the amazing truth that He who was eternal and infinite (as expressed by the word our translators chose as “was”) limited (as expressed by the word “became”) Himself by enfleshing Himself in our finite selves, not as a warrior king, but as a baby born to a carpenter, a baby who would grow up to teach us of our Father in heaven and die for our sins.

     It is truly the most amazing story, if it ended there.  But have you considered that all of this that we read today is just the prologue or introduction of John’s Gospel?  Have you considered as wonderful and as well known as this passage is, it is only fourteen verses of John’s Gospel?  This Scriptural reset, as I call it, this reminder that what we celebrate this week has been part of God’s plan since before He created the world and enfleshed humanity.  But all of this, all of it, has been for a specific purpose.  The creation, the enfleshing of the Son, the testimony--all of it has been for the specific purpose of bestowing upon you, and upon me, and upon all who would hear the story that God wants us to be with Him for all eternity.  And though we have all created situations which make such a communion impossible, God has acted through His Incarnation and Easter miracles to make it possible.

     John expresses the purpose of salvation history in these terms: But to all who received Him, who believed in His name, He gave power to become children of God, who were born . . . of God.  Paul, in his letter today, puts the purpose in easier words, though the meaning is the same: so that we might receive adoption as children. . . . So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.  I want you to take a moment and inwardly digest this.  Maybe you are focusing on it for the very first time.  Perhaps you have never hear this passage before.  All of salvation history has pointed to the babe whose birth we celebrate this week, and His life, and His death, and His resurrection for the purpose of redeeming you, of redeeming me, and of redeeming all those whom we encounter in the world!  Put another way, before He set about creating the heavens and the earth, our Lord determined how He would reach into the lives of each of us and redeem us.

     Brothers and sisters, a number of you and those who come here for AA and others who just “drop in” because they can talk to me have lamented that this was a difficult Advent.  For many of you, it seems to have been the hardest Advent ever.  Random shootings, senseless tragedies, lingering diseases, untimely deaths, the fear of the drought, the looming fiscal cliff, the volume of sex slaves in our community, Syria and its biological weapons, North Korea and its nuclear weapons, the fiscal cliff--the list this year goes on and on and on.  How can I get in the Christmas spirit with all this going on?  Brothers and sisters, it is those events and those unnamed which should cause you to fall on your knees at that manger and worship the enfleshed God-babe!  Left to our own devices, there is little that we could do about any one of them.  Ah, but left to Him . . . 

     Brothers and sisters, those of us who have accepted His open-armed invitation from the cross cannot but help be moved by the Christmas scene.  The gift that God offers is simply beyond words.  But the attention that we pay to that gift is often incomplete.  We focus on the crowded inn, the young couple, the choral angels, and any number of other details.  Often what is lost, however, is the attention that is paid to each one of us.  Thankfully, John is there to remind us of the care and concern and love that God had for each one of us.  Before He created out of nothing, He determined to enter this world to save us and allow us to become His children.  Before the world and time began, He determined to enter this world and make it possible for us men  and us women to be adopted into His holy family.  Now, I want you to think about the implication for the hereafter for just a moment.  Think of everything He did to celebrate the birth of His only begotten Son.  The star had to be set in the sky, a common language needed to be spoken on earth, prophecies had to be recorded, the wise men needed to be educated, shepherds needed to be on stand-by, maybe the angelic choir needed to go through warm-ups like our earthly one here.  Everything in the fullness of time needed to be arranged so that He could enter this world He had created.  Ponder for just a second, what the homecoming will be like.  If He did all this for His only begotten Son, what kind of celebration do you think He will throw when the whole mess of kids are brought home by their Lord and Savior?  What do you think the feast will be like when His Son is finally enthroned in glory for all eternity, and you and I are made kings and queens in His eternal kingdom?  That celebration, brothers and sisters, is the celebration to which John’s prologue ultimately points!  That celebration, brothers and sisters, is the one to which we have all been given an invitation and the opportunity to invite others in His holy name!

     As I began this discussion I remarked how comforting the Christmas scene is.  God became one of us, lived among us, and gives us confidence that He knows us intimately, that He empathizes with us.  I mentioned that empathy is nice, but after a while, it seems worthless.  All the mourning and all the cheerleading, after a while, seems empty.  Part of our reminder this day from John is that our Lord who empathizes with us and knows us intimately has the power to effect whatever He wills.  John’s reset takes us back to the beginning, back to when time has no meaning.  John places God’s activity in cosmic terms and reminds us that His efforts, His exercise of His power and authority has been to bring about His will: namely, the redemption of you and me and all humanity.  The babe whose birth we celebrate this week was not Plan G or Plan J or Plan Z; He was and is the Alpha and Omega.  The entire decision of His enfleshing was determined long before you and I came into being, and the purpose of that enfleshing was to make our full communion with God once again possible, even though we had not yet lived nor sinned.  Nothing in the course of history, no rise and fall of empires, no random natural disasters, no plagues, no thing in history, not even death itself was able to thwart Him as He worked to redeem you and to redeem me.  You see, the Lord whom we serve has power.  As we shall see as we remind ourselves of this amazing story over the next four months, He has power to take up His life, to lay it down, and to take it up again.  Only He can accomplish all that He purposes.  The Lord whom we serve certainly understands us and empathizes with us, but our Lord exists beyond time and space and is able to work His plan for us no matter the obstacle.  John’s reset, his prologue, reminds us that the One who loves us dearly can accomplish in our lives whatever He wills.  That One, brothers and sisters, is the One deserving of our worship.  That One, brothers and sisters, is the One deserving of our praise.  That One, brothers and sisters, is the God Man to whom we should all be introducing others, that His return and celebration will be all the more spectacular, all the more wondrous, all the more amazing, just like His grace which caused Him to come down as a babe and live among us.

Peace,

Brian†

Baptism reminds us that love wins . . .

     If you are familiar with liturgical traditions and are visiting today, you may be a bit surprised to find that we are draped in white with the Pascal Candle prominently displayed.  No, you did not miss Christmas, and, no, we don’t celebrate it today and not gather tomorrow night and Tuesday to celebrate the Feast of the Incarnation.  Similarly, if you came today wanting to hear some mourning about Watertown, you might be a bit surprised that we are lighting the candle of joy and proclaiming that joy is now within us.

     Our life together as a parish today is interesting for a number of reasons.  We will be celebrating the baptism of one of our younger members. Yes, traditionalists, it is customary for the Church to wait until Epiphany 1 to baptize new members at this time of the year.  But we have a bit of a unique situation.  We have a soldier on leave.  We have a baptismal candidate who wanted dad to see him get baptized.  It was an easy call for me and the bishop once I asked him for permission.  This was the only weekend we could baptize Logan and have dad here.  I’m not a big fan of private baptisms, but this one is a bit more deserving of a public service.  As Terry has been deployed, it is you gathered here who have helped Logan figure out his way around here.  As a group, you have already helped Logan begin to grow into the full stature of Christ.  His being here today is evidence of your witness and prayers.  But more about that in a minute.

     If you are a visitor this morning, and not part of Logan’s family, it may seem a bit weird, a bit early, for us to be celebrating while a few families still must bury loved ones as a result that tragedy that has caused a nation to mourn.  In truth, the baptism was not planned with the events of Watertown in view.  This was planned well in advance as dad was scheduling a leave from the military.  As it turns out, though, there could be no better response by a church in the aftermath of such events.  In fact, this is the response of the Church.  This sacramental act, combined with the Eucharist, is the worship which reminds us every time we gather that, in the end, God wins.

     Last week, in the immediate aftermath of the shootings, we talked a bit about the world into which Jesus was born and the world to which He said He would return.  If I did my job well last week, I reminded you that the world into which Christ was born was very much like our own.  Economic issues plagued the Empire just as they plague us; there were questions about taxes; wars and what Romans would call acts of terrorism were a common experience; diseases turned into plagues like our flu’s; natural disasters were every bit as deadly as today.  I could probably go on and on, but you get the idea.  All of those evils, we know, were the result of sin.  The sin of humanity impacted creation as well as humanity.

     Just as today, humanity tried to rise above the conditions it found itself in.  Like us, they tried to control nature; like us, they tried to “fix” themselves.  Like us, it might have seemed for a while that they were making progress.  Then tragedies would strike which reminded them of their impotence.  To be sure, some were blind to the fact that in many areas they made no progress.  Thankfully, and mercifully, our Lord did not leave us to our own salvation.  I often ask people who, during pastoral conversations, admit that they find the idea that Christ died for them offensive how they would atone for their sins.  Keep in mind these are not evil people who think the world was made for their pleasure.  There are people who are trying to live lives worthy of God, who want to believe that God died more for others than for themselves.  The problem for such people is how to measure the effects of their sins and what to do in response.

     We don’t know the full effect of our sins.  We just don’t.  I might insult you and later come to realize that I need to seek your forgiveness.  Once I do that, have I fully atoned?  What if you left here and went home and yelled at your friends or family because I had put you in a bad mood?  Isn’t that a consequence of my sin?  Am I culpable for your sin?  And if they, in turn, bite the head off another, is that not another consequence of my sin?  One of the problems with sin is the ripples?  Where do they end?  How do we account for them all?  For people trying to atone for their own sins faithfully, it can drive them nuts.  To put it in terms of our national discussion in light of Watertown, what was it that caused the shooter to storm a school and kill 20 kindergartners?  20.  I admit, I am the parent of 7, and our 7 can drive people nuts from time to time.  There have been times where I’ve used Bill Cosby’s threat -- I brought you into this world and I can take you out! -- but killing 20 kids is unimaginable.  Was it mental illness?  Was it a fight with his mom?  Was it the divorce?  Did he play too many violent video games?  Was he mad that the death star did not have enough signatories on the White Petition page?  Was it a combination?  What?  And if you were a faithful Jew, or a Jew who had converted to the early Church, you can see how the torah might be misused to place the emphasis of your salvation on your sacrifices.  The author of the letter to the Hebrews picks up on that understanding quite well in our readings.

     God understands that we cannot figure it all out.  There really is, in many cases, no ways for us to atone for our sins against other humans.  Then, just when we think we may have that problem solved, we are reminded that all our sins against others are sins against Him.  How do we atone for our sins against Him?  What do we offer in exchange for our sins?  All that we have is His.  Anything from this world is His.  Anything we would offer is already His.  What good is that?  Fortunately for us, what He demands of us is not burnt offerings.  The sin offerings and burnt offerings are not what He wants of us.  No matter how many we would offer, we would still need to offer more as we would continue to sin.  What He wants, instead, is for us to repent, to allow His Son to stand interposed between our sin and His wrath, and go about life in humble service and thanksgiving.  That is the answer to the problem of our sins.  He came not to judge but to save.  While the world scrambles to assign blame and make up for or get away with mistakes, He comes and loves and saves.

     In many ways, today’s service serves as the perfect answer for the questions plaguing people in the aftermath of Watertown.  As a society, we think we have figured out that we must blame and then work to eliminate the cause.  We at St. Alban’s understand that because Logan’s father is still caught up in our effort to “fix” the problems unveiled by 9-11.  Eleven years after those tragic events, Terry is “on the ground” protecting us and working to dismantle the forces of Al-Queda and the Taliban.  Eleven years.  Are we safer?  Perhaps.  Because of the heroic actions of men and women like Terry, you and I are safe here to go about our business with little thought about our solution to the problems our national enemies present.  But, sitting here eleven years later, do any of you think we are truly any closer creating on earth what is in heaven thanks to those military efforts, particularly if our soldiers returned home tomorrow for good?

     I am not speaking as a prophet, but my guess is that eleven years hence we will still, as a society, be grappling with the events of Watertown.  There will be extended fights about the gun laws, about caring for the mentally ill, about the security of our schools, and any number of tangential issues.  Will random violence be eliminated by 2023?  Unless our Lord returns, sadly, no.  Sin will still be present.  Evil will still be permitted to seduce.

     It is in that certainty that the Church goes about its business of growing the kingdom of God here on earth.  The message that you and I are given is not just one of judgement, though the judgment of sin is certainly part of what the Gospel proclaims, but one of love.  Christ did not enter the world to condemn it, but to save sinners.  He did not come to call the righteous but the sinners.  For God so loved the world -- that is our message!  And, as a counterpoint to how the world and society behaves, we go and make disciples of Christ one individual at a time.  And we baptize them, as our Lord instructed, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  In this sacramental act, we are buried into Christ’s death and called to recognize our selfish failings and sin in the presence of that holy, righteous, loving God we rightly call Lord.  Were the story and act to end there, we would certainly have some comfort, but our Lord’s instruction is not yet complete.  We are raised from the water, as Christ was raised from the tomb, into new life, a life lived not for ourselves and our benefit, but for the glory of God!  And in that raising, we are promised that we will share in eternal life with Him in the world to come, and we are gifted power to accomplish His will while we sojourn on this earth.  And those gifts and powers are given not to make us gloat, but to serve and love others into that same kingdom.

     Today, as a church family, you begin to see the fruit of some of your labors.  For weeks now, Logan has been asking / nagging me if this was the week.  Do I get to be part of the family today, Fr. Brian?  For a while we have been saying “not today, Logan, but soon.”  Logan is at that curious age where one cannot be sure of what he knows and what he doesn’t.  I am certain, though, thanks to his grandmother’s efforts to get him here and your willingness to help teach him about God, that something significant has begun in Logan’s life.  You, as his brothers and sisters in Christ have nourished this beginning.  Though Logan has every reason not to really want this day, he has done nothing but look forward to its arrival.  He might not be able to articulate the theology as well as some adults, but we have witnessed a child come to our Lord.  Logan understands his Father in heaven loves him, that his Father in heaven wants nothing but good for him, and that this sacramental act makes his acceptance of that offer of our Lord complete.  I have listened to him far too long not to have noticed that.  And you, you sitting here about to remind yourself of your oath to offer him encouragement and instruction in his walk with Christ, have had the important role of also demonstrating your Father’s love in Logan’s life.  You have put up with his, some would say boyish while others would say loud, behavior in church.  Some have been gentle with his enthusiasm, while others have intentionally been silent for fear of accidentally putting out that spark.  Each of you though, insofar as you hand in shepherding him to this day, has been a living testimony that God, that love, wins.  No matter the forces of the opposition, no matter the apathy, no matter the complacency, no matter the fear, no matter the powers and principalities which draw us away, in the end love, expressed in the life and death and resurrection of our Lord Christ, wins!

     It may seem insignificant to a nation or community dealing with such a tragedy as we see each night on the news.  It may seem weak and powerless to a man or woman who is called by his or her government to risk his or her life each day on the battlefield.  But to us in the Church, it is the hope to which we are called, the promised secured on our behalf by His flesh and His blood.  We can face tragedies like 9-11 and Watertown and all kinds of more personal ones in our lives certain of our redemption, even if death itself rears its head to claim us or our loved ones.  And that, brothers and sisters, is the promise and power of the Gospel!  We can do nothing in ourselves, but in Him we can transform the world.  Loving our Lord with all our strength, soul, and might and loving our neighbors as ourselves: that is how He calls us to live, through us living that life to which He calls us is how He reaches the world.  Ultimately, it is that power of the cross, and the redemption it signifies, and the power of the empty tomb, and the authority to which it testifies, which will lead to no more Watertowns, no more 9-11‘s, no more sadness, no more tears.

     Logan Mikel, I do not know how much you understand what you are doing today.  There will come a time in your life, I hope and pray, when you confirm the oaths taken on your behalf when you are a teenager.  Until that time, I would simply like to thank you.  Thank you for reminding us of the enthusiasm for this life which you want to embrace, and thank you for sharing this special day with us.  Take a quick look around.  These are men and women and some younger ones, too, who are called to walk with you as you formally begin your relationship with your Father in heaven.  Mark them well.  From them you will learn of the stories of God’s saving embrace, and, God willing, one day you will share those same tales with others who come to Him in faith.  Yes, Logan.  You have a job in this family.  In this family there are no observers.  There are only disciples of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Now, the candidate for Holy Baptism will now be presented . . . 

Peace.

Brian†