Sermon - Christmas 2016 by the Rev. David M. Stoddart

Richard Wurmbrand was a pastor who for years helped organize and sustain an underground church in Romania during the time of the communist dictatorship there. Wurmbrand paid a heavy price for helping keep the Christian faith alive in his homeland: he was imprisoned for over fourteen years and tortured frequently. He wrote a book, In God’s Underground, where he recounts his life in prison. It was outwardly a miserable existence, and yet at one point he writes, “Alone in my cell, cold, hungry and in rags, I danced for joy every night  . . . sometimes I was so filled with joy that I felt I would burst if I did not give it expression.”

When was the last time you danced for joy . . . in public or in your heart? Have you ever felt like you would burst if you did not give expression to the joy within you? Have you felt joy recently at all? On the Third Sunday of Advent, the pink Sunday which is called Gaudete or Rejoice Sunday, I asked the kids during the children’s homily what joy is. And one of them said it is when you feel really, really happy. That is true to a point, except that happiness in our culture is often tied to circumstances: we feel happy if we have a good meal or a pleasant visit; we feel happy if we get a raise at work or if our family behaves during the holidays. But that also means happiness can be pretty fragile: circumstances can change in a moment. I have been reminded of that in numerous ways just this week, as I have ministered to those who have been hurt in serious car accidents or have suddenly fallen very sick. I have seen in the last few days how feelings of happiness can disappear in a flash when life takes a tragic turn or we read about some new horror, like the massacre at a Christmas market in Berlin. Whatever joy is, it must be durable enough to survive any of that; robust enough to inspire a prisoner to dance alone in the cold darkness of his cell.

I think that joy is what we are seeing in the story of the shepherds. Now, it’s easy for us to romanticize these guys. We envision cute, fluffy sheep and men dressed in picturesque clothing cradling lambs in their arms under clear starry skies. But there is nothing romantic about them. They had a dirty job and were considered to be dirty people, at the very bottom of the socioeconomic ladder. Today they would be like minimum wage laborers working the graveyard shift because they have no choice. They were subsistence workers, just barely making it. For most of us, their circumstances would be decidedly unhappy. And it’s not like they are treated to a happy show, either. According to the narrative, when the angel appears to them in glory (and we have no idea what that actually looked like—it’s not described), there’s obviously nothing pretty about it: the shepherds are terrified. What finally leads them to utter words of praise, what unleashes joy, is seeing this child and realizing that God has come close to them.

Put simply, joy is a God thing. It is not an emotional state we can somehow manufacture, not a feeling we can try to make ourselves feel. It is rather the direct result of experiencing the closeness of the Holy One. The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, says that joy is a fruit of the Spirit, something which naturally occurs when we let the Spirit of God live within us. As such, joy does not depend on our circumstances at all. We can be rich, healthy, and surrounded by loved ones—and experience joy. We can be financially strapped, terminally ill, and grieving the loss of loved ones—and experience joy. The shepherds experienced it while at work in the middle of the night. Richard Wurmbrand experienced it in the misery of a Communist prison. You and I can experience it today.

And we don’t need a perfect Christmas for that to happen. We don’t need to give or receive just the right present. We don’t need alcohol or mood-enhancing drugs. We only need to open ourselves up to the truth and let it wash over us: God. Is. Here. The Creator of the Universe is closer to us than the blood flowing through our veins. Not only has God become human in Jesus, but the Spirit of Jesus fills our humanity—not as a conqueror but as a lover. He was born defenseless and vulnerable, and so Christ comes to us now: with gentleness and kindness, with unending mercy, with a love that is infinitely patient, infinitely enduring—and thus all-powerful. He can outlast and overcome anything, even death. That’s what those shepherds encountered that night, a Presence awesome and compassionate ad beautiful beyond words. Of course they left praising God in joy: no other response that would suffice.

And if all that all seems like pious claptrap to you, then please hear me when I say that I am not trying to sound religious at all. Did you notice? There is no temple and there are no priests in the Christmas story. There’s not even a hint of organized religion. The truth of the Incarnation, the Word becoming flesh, is bigger than any church. The reality that God was born among us cannot be contained within these walls, within any religious institution, within any nation. Love has come for all of us, from bishops to atheists, from wealthy Americans to starving refugees. I don’t care how many times you have been in church in the last year or how many times you have failed this week or how you feel right now. Love has come for you and for me. That’s why we’re here: not just because we hope to go to heaven someday, but because heaven has already come to us. And as C. S. Lewis so rightly observed, joy is the serious business of heaven.

I want to wish you joy this Christmas, but I don’t need to wish that for you. Rather I wish for you the simple assurance those shepherds knew, that Christ has come and God is with us. If you get that, joy will just happen―you can’t help it, you can’t stop it― and then it truly will be a merry Christmas, no matter what.

SUNDAY SERMON 12/18/16 ~ THE REV. KATHLEEN M. STURGES

Several years ago, Washington state experienced significant flooding in the western farmland area. While filming the disaster, a TV crew spied a lone, cold, shivering cat anxiously perched on top of a farm outbuilding that was surrounded by water. And for some reason this TV crew decided that they would come to the rescue and save the poor cat. But as they began to approach in their small boat with lights and noise and splashing of water, what the cat saw was not good news of salvation, but imminent doom - and the cat responded accordingly.

One camera recorded this kitty’s great escape as it leapt an amazing distance across the water to land on another metal outbuilding. Then, still in a panic and against all odds, this cat scurried up at least twelve feet of aluminum siding until he reached the peak of the roof where he felt he was far enough away and safe from his would-be rescuers. In total darkness and feeling utterly defeated, the TV crew turned the boat around and left. Checking the next day they found the flood waters had receded and the desperate cat had disappeared.

It’s not just cats, though, who find themselves fleeing or fighting against saving rescue attempts. We too sometimes behave in similar ways. I’m sure any lifeguards in the congregation, past or present, remember their training - when attempting to rescue a drowning victim, one must approach very carefully and cautiously because in their panic the one who is drowning may push the rescuer underwater in an attempt to save themselves. However, such action only leads to the demise of both.

For it’s just plain hard to be saved. Because in order to be saved one must be willing to surrender, to let go of the attempt to save oneself. Instead the one to be saved must trust another to do something that can’t be done on one’s own. In order to be saved a person has to live with some degree of uncertainty in regards to how the saving process will go. Being saved really isn’t an easy at all.

2000 years ago, it was God who launched the biggest saving mission of all. It begins in Matthew’s gospel like this, “Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way…” As the familiar story goes, Mary is found to be pregnant before she is married. The gospel of Matthew introduces us to Joseph in the middle of this personal crisis. Whatever Joseph’s plans were, his hopes, his dreams for the future, they have all been dashed. The only thing that Joseph can do now is to simply cut his losses. And being a good and righteous man, he decides to dismiss Mary quietly. However, before he can put his plan into action an angel of the Lord comes to him in a dream with news: Do not be afraid, do not flee, do not run from taking Mary as your wife. The baby she is carrying is of the Holy Spirit. It is a boy and you are to name him Jesus (which is Greek for the Hebrew name Joshua, which means, “God Saves.”) for this child will save his people from their sins.

It would have been quiet easy and understandable for Joseph, like the poor cat, to panic and run. Did the angel’s news really sound all that good or saving? But to Joseph’s great credit, he recognized that this news was actually a life ring tossed from heaven and he decided to grab hold. Upon waking from his dream, he took Mary as his wife knowing that the saving way for both him and Mary was found in trusting God. Even in the womb, before his human birth, Jesus was good to his name - God saves.

Now in some Christian traditions salvation is talked about quite a bit. “Are you saved?” can be shorthand for asking, “Are you sure that you are going to heaven when you die?” That is one aspect of being saved, but the salvation that Jesus comes for is bigger than that. God’s salvation is about the fullness of life - in this life and in the life to come. God's salvation is about healing and wholeness in its richest sense. In the children’s homily, Fr. David explained to the kids, “God saves us from anything that hurts us.” And quoting from theologian Marcus Borg, Salvation is: “Light in our darkness, sight to the blind, enlightenment, liberation for captives, return from exile, the healing of our infirmities, food and drink, resurrection from the land of the dead, being born again, knowing God, becoming “in Christ”, being made right with God (“justified”).” The usual understanding of salvation is included in this list, but it certainly isn’t the only thing. The truth is, is that there is more than one way to be saved and more than one thing we need to be saved from so that we are fully healed and made whole - not just as individuals, but as a community, a country, and a world.

God saves: that’s what the name of Jesus means. That that’s what Jesus is all about. He comes to save Joseph, to save Mary, to save all his people - all of us, from darkness, from brokenness, from our sins. It’s a bold and daring rescue mission indeed. That’s what we will celebrate on Christmas, but even more glorious than that it’s what we are invited to be a part of each and every day.

But sometimes allowing Jesus to do his work of salvation in us is easier said than done. The process of being saved may look and feel just as scary to us as a boat full of loud, but well-meaning, TV reporters did to that poor cat and we too may be tempted to flee. Brave Joseph allowed himself to be rescued and saved so that he might become Mary’s husband and Jesus’ earthly father. Did he know the whole plan? Unlikely. Was it an easy path? Absolutely not. Did he sometimes wonder if God really know what God was doing? Perhaps. And yet it was God’s way of salvation for him.

Our way will be different for sure. Still, no matter how we are allowing Jesus to save us is risky. For being saved means letting go of attempts to save ourselves. Being saved means trusting another to do what we cannot do on our own. Being saved means being OK living with uncertainty, with not having all the answers about how the salvation process will go. But being saved is worth the risk. So like Joseph, no matter whether we are in the midst of a personal crisis or blissful calm, may we recognize the heavenly life rings that are thrown into our lives and be willing, be brave enough to take hold trusting in the one whose very name proclaims the good news of our wholeness and healing - Jesus: God saves.

SUNDAY SERMON 12/11/16 ~ THE REV. KATHLEEN M. STURGES

Last week in our reading from the gospel of Matthew on the 2nd Sunday in Advent, our hero, John the Baptist, was out in the wilderness - and that’s a good thing because that is just where he wanted to be eating yummy locust and honey, dressed in camel’s hair. To which I say, to each his own. What’s particularly great is that he is doing what he was born to do - getting his people ready for the coming of the Messiah, preparing the way of the Lord. The One for whom Israel has been waiting. The One who, John proclaims, will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. The One who has a winnowing fork in his hand, separating good from bad, wheat from chaff. That’s where our reading ended last week, but immediately following that the One comes, Jesus, the Messiah. The wait is finally over and John baptizes him. It’s the culmination of all that John hoped for, worked for, was born for. John has fulfilled his purpose - a job well done!

This morning we have John again, but he’s different. He’s no longer where he wants to be doing what he wants to do. That big, bold talk about the Messiah has landed him in King Herod’s prison where he sits and waits, listening to reports about what Jesus is doing. And it seems that something must not be quite right for John sends word through his disciples with a question, “Are you the One who is to come? Or are we to wait for another?” Are you the One? How could John ask such a thing? He was the one who boldly, confidently told everyone that Jesus was the Messiah. How did he get to this place of doubt, of questions? Jesus, are you really the One?

Perhaps the question arose from the possibility that Jesus was just not acting like a Messiah was supposed to act. Where was that Messiah of Fire? God’s Messiah was to come in a mighty way to set things straight, which would include a military Messiah that would set Israel free. From the reports that John was getting coupled with his own situation locked up in Herod’s prison, clearly this was not happening. Seems natural that John would start to wonder, to question.

We can sympathize, can’t we? Don’t we want a Messiah who will come and act in a mighty way? We want and pray for God to heal, to protect, to save, to change things in our own lives and in the lives of those we love. We pray that suffering will stop, that justice will come. We, too, want God to set things straight and make things right. But when God does not act as expected we may, like John, wonder. His question may become the question of our own hearts: Jesus, are you really the One?

So what’s Jesus’ answer? Go tell John what you see and hear: the blind see, the lame walk, the leper cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead raised, the poor have good news. You know, probably John and the rest of us would have preferred a simple yes or no answer. But maybe a simple yes or no would not really answer the question. The answer Jesus gives is bigger than that. His response, I’m sure, would ring familiar to John and perhaps to us as well as we hear the echoes from our first reading in Isaiah where the prophet is giving the Jews and us a glimpse of the age to come. An age where Israel’s wounds and all the world’s ills are healed. Jesus’s answer seeks to enlarge John’s vision, his expectations about the Messiah who may not always operate in the expected ways.

Now back when John was out in the wilderness he particularly pointed fingers and called out the Pharisees and Sadducees telling them that when God’s Messiah came they would need to change. You know though that when you point a finger at someone there’s one finger pointing at them and three pointing back at you. When God comes into the world and into our lives it’s not just the religious leaders or other people that are called to change, but us too - even John the Baptist.

Last week Fr. David reminded us that God’s way is always the way of love. And that how we experience the fire of God’s love - whether it will burn or baptize, undo us or uplift us depends on how open, how willing we are to let it change us. John was experiencing that fire of God’s love and it was calling for change - to expand his understanding, his expectations, his acceptance that Jesus the Messiah would indeed fulfill all the prophecies, but in a different, fuller way than John originally had in mind.

It’s rather remarkable that our Scripture includes this type of epilogue to John the Baptist’s story. It would have been much easier, much simpler, and rather two dimensional to stopped the story last week - letting our hero stay on the mountaintop of faith basking in the glory of Jesus’s baptism with a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment. However, John is more complex than that. We are exposed to not only his passionate commitment to his faith and call, but also his struggle, his doubt, his question. And it’s not just John, is it? I imagine his story is ours as well and that is why it is in our Scripture because a life of faith is complicated.

So on this third Sunday in Advent, as we wait for the coming of God, Jesus the Messiah, into the world and into our lives, let us like John in the midst of the complexity of faith be willing to open ourselves up to the fire of God’s love. May we let it change us, baptize us, make us bearers of that loving fire so that we might share with the world in both word and deed the good news that Jesus truly is the One.

SUNDAY SERMON 12/4/16 by THE REV. DAVID M. STODDART

In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean spends 19 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. When he’s finally released, he breaks parole and flees to a new town where he is taken in by a kindly bishop. He returns the kindness by stealing the bishop’s silver. He’s caught, but when the police haul him before the bishop, the bishop tells them that he gave the silver to him as a gift. It is a pivotal moment of mercy, of undeserved love, that changes Jean Valjean, who goes on to become a very admirable character. But he’s always on the run for violating the terms of his parole, and he is pursued with a vengeance by a police officer named Javert. Javert is a by-the-book person: everything is black and white, right and wrong. Crime must be punished, and criminals are beyond redemption. No one can change. His worldview is crystal clear and merciless. Well, in the great upheavals of 1832, Valjean is helping some of the leaders of the uprising when they capture Javert. And then Jean Valjean has his great chance: he can kill this man who has pursued him for years and cast a shadow over his whole life. But just as that bishop showed mercy to him at a critical moment, he shows mercy to Javert and in a pure act of loving his enemy, lets him go.

But the results are not the same. Javert is not changed: he refuses to be. He cannot comprehend how any person can show such love. He will not let it in. It actually throws him into despair: he can’t live with the idea that his life has been granted to him as a gift by this “criminal.” So he leaps to his death from a bridge, but right before he does he sings these words:

            And must I now begin to doubt,

            Who never doubted all these years?

            My heart is stone and still it trembles.

            The world I have known is lost in shadow.

            Is he from heaven or from hell?

            And does he know

            That, granting me my life today,

            This man has killed me even so?

Now, I want to ask, “How could anyone ever perceive a heavenly love as a hellish reality?” but I know better. I have done it myself, and I have listened to many, many people do the same. The reality is that it is hard to be loved, to let God’s love really penetrate our being. For some people, it threatens their very sense of self: they don’t feel like they are worthy of such love. The story they tell themselves is that God’s love may be real, but it’s for other people. They are somehow outside the reach of it. Others are just too busy and too focused on the daily grind: they don’t want to deal with a God who is real and close and loves them personally and passionately. They just want to check off the church box and then get on with doing their job, taking their kids to soccer, and just trying to make it through the week. And then others need to be in control: they want to feel like they earn whatever they get, even heaven, and not be beholden to anyone, even God. But underlying all of this, I believe, is the deep realization, which we may not even consciously admit to ourselves, that if we allow ourselves to be that open, that vulnerable, if we really let God love us, then it will change us in ways we cannot predict or control. And, like Javert, we don’t like change: that is what makes God’s love so scary.

And that is what makes John the Baptist so scary. He wants people to actually experience the life-changing nature of that love. He uses the imagery of fire: Jesus will baptize people with fire, instilling new life and power within them. But the chaff, John says, he will burn with unquenchable fire. The message is not that God will treat some people well and others poorly. That is not true: God is always love. The key is remembering that the fire which baptizes also burns; the love which uplifts us also undoes us. How we experience the fire of God’s love depends on how open we are to letting it change us. That’s why John criticizes the Pharisees and the Sadducees: they want to go through the motions of repentance without ever allowing God to change anything about them. For all their religious posturing, they don’t want the divine fire to mess around with their lives at all. And so for them, that fire can only feel destructive. Only those who are really open and willing can know what it is like to be baptized by the Spirit and be led to richer, fuller life in Christ.

I am better dressed and more polite than John the Baptist, but my message today is essentially the same as his. If we are just here to light candles and listen to pretty music, then whatever else we may be doing, we are not preparing for the coming of Jesus Christ into our lives. The outward forms of Advent are only beneficial to the degree that they help us open our hearts and minds to the love of God which Christ seeks to pour into us.

So here is my Advent challenge to you: If you fully accepted that God is real, that Jesus is alive, risen from the dead, and that the Holy Spirit is actually within you; if you fully accepted that God knows you thoroughly and loves you unconditionally, what would change in your life? If you were vulnerable enough to let the whole truth in, what do you think would happen? Are there destructive behaviors you could finally let go of? Would you forgive others more? Would you worry less? If the love of Christ filled your being, do you imagine you would spend more time on the people and activities that really matter and less time on trivial things that frankly don’t matter at all? And how would that love affect your relationship with money and status symbols and worldly success? But most important: when I ask you questions like that, where do you feel resistance, where do you feel yourself digging in? Because that is exactly where your Advent and my Advent needs to happen — right where we are most guarded, unable to trust and unwilling to change. That’s where we most need to let God’s love in. When John the Baptist calls us to repentance, that’s what he’s talking about.

I’ve said it before, and I will say it again. The great paradox of our faith: God loves us just the way we are, but loves us too much to leave us that way. And every Advent we are confronted with the same question: are we prepared to be loved like that? If the answer is yes, then we can honestly pray the great Advent prayer: “Come Lord Jesus, come.”

SUNDAY SERMON 11/27/16 by the Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

“But about that day and hour no one knows,” begins our reading from Matthew. What day, what hour is Jesus speaking of? When the Son of Man will come to earth – the second coming of Christ. However, did any of us really think this morning as we awoke, today could be the day, this could be the hour of Jesus’ return? Unlikely. The second coming may not be at the forefront of our thoughts, but it is an essential to our faith. We proclaim every Sunday in the words of the Nicene Creed that Jesus will return. And in our Eucharistic prayer we proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, but we don’t stop there. No there’s more, Christ will come again.

Jesus tells us to keep awake for his coming for although we do not know when it will happen we are assured that sometime, someday it will happen. God will come completely unexpectedly. But how does one really “Keep awake” without driving yourself and everyone around you crazy?

The story of Juliet Starrett may help us when we consider that. Back in the day, Juliet was a two-time extreme whitewater canoe champion. Several years ago she was canoeing down a river in Eastern Africa when she came upon a hippopotamus. Now in photographs hippos look rather cute - bulbous creatures with the top half of its body poking out of the water. But did you know that when you Google, “Most Dangerous Animals in the World,” that the hippopotamus is ranked at number four? It’s more dangerous than a great white shark, a lion, or a leopard because a hippo is highly aggressive and known to attack human beings without provocation.

The way Juliet tells it is that one moment she was paddling her canoe down the river and the next moment she was ten feet in the air high above the water. When she looked down and saw the powerful jaws of the hippo ripping her performance canoe into splinters. And while in the air she had the presence of mind to look for the nearest shore. Upon seeing it she pointer herself in that direction and started swinging her arms and kicking her feet – Juliet was swimming in mid air. So that by the time she hit the water she was ready to go which enabled her to live and tell the story.

That quick and appropriate response to the unexpected hippo encounter shows that she was ready, she was prepared. Now did Juliet specifically train for this? When I hippo catapults you into the air make sure to do this… No, I think not. However, all the hours, days, months, even years Juliet put in to make her champion stock, that is what prepared her. That is what made her ready when the unexpected came.

Jesus says to us, “Keep awake! For I will come again and it will certainly be unexpected.” But that doesn’t mean that we live need to lives fraught with worry or anxiety or hypervigilance. Just like a champion whitewater canoe-er, we Christians are called to a special type of training to prepare our spirits so that we might be ready for Christ’s coming. We engage in this training every week as we gather to worship, pray, forgive and be forgiven, learn, serve, and fellowship – day by day, week by week, month by month, and hopefully even year by year. We are growing in our life in Christ, training our spirits to be ready for God’s unexpected coming.

Now in today’s reading, Jesus is speaking primarily about his future coming into the world. But there are other comings of God that we recognize and celebrate especially during this time of year. This Sunday is the first Sunday of the Church’s new year. We call this time Advent, which comes from the Latin, adventus, meaning “coming.” Advent reminds us that God comes – not just in the future, in three different ways.

The first coming of God is when God walked this earth in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. We will celebrate that coming on Christmas, known as the Feast of the Incarnation. The second coming of God is the final coming which Jesus speaks of today. A time when God and creation will be fully united. That is the day and the hour no one knows. And the third coming is what takes place in between these two comings. The in-between time that is happening right now. God coming in our prayers, God coming in our acts of service, recognizing God coming and present in our neighbor, God coming to us in the daily-ness of life – whether we are working in the field, grinding meal, eating bread, or drinking wine. God comes in all of that and more.

Keep awake, therefore - be ready for the unexpected. Hopefully the unexpected will not include a close encounter with a raging hippo, but you can count on God coming in unexpected ways - unexpected and wonderful ways - so let’s get ready; keep awake!

SERMON Thanksgiving Eve 2016 by the Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

We gather together on this eve of Thanksgiving to intentionally give praise and thanks to God - for the gifts of the earth that sustain us and the love that upholds us. Tomorrow the American tradition is to gather with family and friends in order to eat our hearts out. And not only to feast, but to enjoy the experience in the loving company of family and dear friends. This cultural expectation, for me at least, is captured in the Norman Rockwell painting, “Freedom from Want.” The mother figure is at the center placing a huge, perfectly roasted turkey on the table. Everyone is smiling and full of joy - there are no family dynamics here, no annoying comments to be heard. Father stands behind Mother ready to lead everyone in the blessing and do the honors of carving the turkey.

I do pray that everyone here over all your years does experience at least one Thanksgiving that matches this fantasy. But most times real life interferes. No matter it’s Thanksgiving or Christmas or New Year’s Day or any special day, real life always creeps in with joys and sorrows, successes and failures, healthy and broken relationships. The American expectation, the Thanksgiving fantasy is just that - fantasy.

We probably all know in our heads, at least, that we are called to give thanks no matter the circumstance, but the fantasy still holds onto our hearts. You’re probably aware of the real American origins of Thanksgiving. President Abraham Lincoln declared the third Thursday in November to be a day for the country to give thanks and praise to our benevolent God. It was 1863 and the nation was at war with itself. Everyone knew death personally. Everyone suffered. Everyone knew scarcity. Yet in the midst of all of that, President Lincoln called the people to give thanks. And along with thanks came a call to confession and repentance for the sins of the nation, prayers for the countless widows and orphans, mourners and sufferers. And finally a request to ask God to heal our nation and to knit it back together in peace and harmony.

The American Thanksgiving had nothing to do with parades or football games or shopping sprees. It was not born out of a time of abundance, but a time of suffering. To give thanks in such times is a radical response of faith in the face of the darkness in this world. It seems that when we are stipped of the many things we think we can depend on that it is then that we are able to clearly see that which is truly is dependable. The one who deserves our thanks and praise.

Our final hymn this evening may be known to you, “Now Thank We All Our God.” It was written in the mid-1600’s by a German, Lutheran Pastor named Martin Rinkhart. He lived in a walled city called Eilenburg and during the Thirty Years’ War people from the countryside fled to Eilenburg seeking protection from its walls. However, the more the war raged the more people who came to the point that overcrowding fueled diseased and death. Thousands died in one year. All clergy in the city died except for Pastor Martin who was left to shoulder the task of conducting burial after burial - including one for his own wife - sometimes 50 burials in one day.

It was in the midst of this unimaginable grief and loss Pastor Martin penned the words:
Now thank we all our God with hearts and hands and voices.
Who wonderous things hath done, in whom the world rejoices.
Who from our mother’s arms hath led us on our way
with countless gifts of love and still is ours today.

It is a mistake for us to think of Thanksgiving as a national holiday that is most fitting in the context of peace and ease and abundance. Rather Thanksgiving - the holiday and the act itself - is a radical response of faith to darkness.

With the words of Psalm 100 tonight we declared, “Enter God’s gates with thanksgiving; go into his courts with praise; give thanks to him and call upon his Name.” Why? Because we have great things in this world? Because the turkey is perfect? The family is happy? All is well? No. The answer is given in the next verse. We give thanks and praise because “the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his faithfulness endures, from age to age.”

Thanksgiving is a radical response of faith. And true gratitude comes when we are most aware of our deep dependence on and connection to our God who is good, whose mercy is everlasting, whose faithfulness endures from age to age. This evening and tomorrow and hopefully every day following may we pause to turn toward our bountiful God and give thanks for the countless gifts of love that still are ours today.

Advent Resources

MID-WEEK REFLECTION 

EMILY RUTLEDGE, YOUTH MINISTER

The season of Advent is beautiful and Holy but often overrun by what the world tells us Christmas is: GO GO GO, SHOP SHOP SHOP, TAKE TAKE TAKE.  As we embark on this season where as Believers we are called to wait, anticipate, and reflect, here are some ways that you can do that in your homes and in your time.  Join my family as we create Advent traditions that continually point to the coming of Christ, to our desire to know him, celebrate him, and welcome him into our hearts each year.  

Advent Word is a creation of SSJE (Society of St. John the Evangelist) Be part of the Anglican Communion’s Global Advent Calendar. It’s an innovative way to engage in the season of Advent with people all over the world. Simply respond to the daily meditation emailed to you with images and prayers that speak to your heart. Your images and prayers will appear in the Advent Calendar with others from around the world. Join us as we anticipate the coming of Christ, the fulfillment of our deepest longings.

best for: adults, teens, tech-savvy, & contemplative types




Praying in color free downloads of printable Advent calendars created by an amazing Episcopal educator, Sybil Macbeth, that allows prayer and contemplation through coloring.  Print out the calendar and each day pray and color.  You will end up with a beautiful art piece that reflects your personal prayer life and walk through this season.

best for: all ages, the artistic, doodlers



Jesus Storybook Bible Advent Calendar a FREE downloadable Advent calendar with readings for each day from The Jesus Storybook Bible, which I consider the best children's Bible around. A short daily reading that brings you all the way to the birth of Christ.  My family uses this advent calendar with our children (5 & 2 years) along with a daily activity (this year with the kindness calendar you can find below)

best for: preschool-3rd grade, Jesus Storybook Bible needed 

Kindness Calendar gives an act of kindness for each day in Advent.  This is just one example. Families can work together to brainstorm their own acts of kindness that are meaningful to them.  A wonderful way to get even the youngest child involved. This can be done along with family living outside of the home (cousins, children at college, extended family, friends) as a way to stay connected to each other and have a unified focus of giving.  

best for: all ages, pre-school, elementary school, middle & high school, inter-generational


Unwrapping the Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp a beautifully illustrated book that has a reading for each day as well as questions to reflect on as a family.  When you buy the book you will also receive a code that allows you to print off paper ornaments that correspond with each reading and create a Jesse Tree. You can create an actual tree from branches to use as a sacred space in your home this season and add an ornament each day as you read through this book. Beautifully illustrated, written, and executed.  Wonderful for both children and adults.  The Jesse Tree element is not necessary to benefit from this book but an added bonus for those that connect with tangible elements.  

best for: 3rd grade and up, families, individuals




The Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp from the author of Unwrapping the Greatest Gift this book is geared towards adults and allows for written reflection at the end of each day's reading.  "I don't want a Christmas you can buy.  I don't want a Christmas you can make.  What I want is a Christmas you can hold.  A Christmas that holds me, remakes me, revives me.  I want a Christmas that whispers, Jesus" -Voskamp


best for: adults




Truth in the Tinsel an e-book for purchase that has daily activities that help little ones understand that this season is about Jesus.  It takes some commitment in terms of preparation and time but if your heart is behind it, it can be a wonderful Advent practice.  There are even printable ornaments you can buy if you would like to take a step away from creating everything needed.  


best for: early elementary




Watch for the Light Reflections from the world's greatest spiritual writers including Aquinas, Bonhoeffer, Gutierrez, & Merton.  Daily readings from the greats that carry through to Epiphany.  A wide range of writings compiled for reflection, education, and allowing you to await the coming of Christ. 

best for: adults

Celebrating our saints!  


St. Nicholas on December 6th: How our family works through the 'Santa' of Christmas is to celebrate the Bishop of Turkey who gave his inherited wealth to children in need.  A few ways to do that are:

• Watch the Veggie Tales made that tells the story of St. Nicholas.  It is a well-done and child friendly way to explain St. Nick!
• Leave treats in children's shoes to mark the day, which is how St. Nicholas shared what he had with the children he helped
• This is a great day to have children go through their toys and decide what would be best to donate to others and together take them to a donation center.
• This is also a perfect day to shop for a child chosen from a giving tree

St. Lucia Day on December 13th: St. Lucia (Lucy) was a young girl who brought persecuted Christians in Rome food when they were forced underground into the catacombs.  She wore candles around her head so that she would have two hands to hold food while also being able to see.  Some ways to celebrate this day are

• Volunteering at a local food pantry to sort or distribute food and/or buying food to donate.  The most needed foods are often canned meats, nut butters, bags of fruits or vegetables, and bread.
• Educating our children about other people of faith in our community who are forced into hiding because of their beliefs and donate to them or write a note of encouragement to them, such as the Islamic Society of Central Virginia
• Be light in whatever way is life-giving and meaningful to your family. St. Lucia Day always falls near the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year.  

Blessings, peace, and joy in your Advent,

Emily

Sermon - Sunday, November 20, 2016

The Rev. David M. Stoddart

  

So, can God make a stone that is too heavy for God to lift? This is a paradox that has been debated for centuries by people who apparently have a great deal of time on their hands: you would not believe how much ink has been spelled over this quandary. Heavy hitters from Thomas Aquinas on have weighed in on it. The question really comes down to this: is God capable of making himself incapable? I am aware of the many issues surrounding this, issues of language, logic, and theology, but the practical answer to the question seems so obvious that I will lay all those considerations aside for the moment and offer you a solution. Can God make a stone too heavy for God to lift? Of course God can: she made us. The Creator who formed 100,000,000,000 galaxies could not lift a single one of us out of bed today and make us come to church.

When we talk about God being “Almighty,” we quickly run into problems because for many, if not most, human beings, power normally means domination, the ability to control people and circumstances and bend them to our will. Power is a plane dropping bombs or a presidential motorcade stopping traffic. Power is something people amass, something they accrue to themselves so that others must defer to them and obey them. And if that is how we understand power, then God must be like that, just more so: a supersized version of us.

But what if God is not like that? What if ultimate power is not about domination? What if we defined power not as the force to control others but as the ability to produce a good result, to achieve a desired goal? If we defined it that way, then maybe we could understand what we are celebrating today. It is the last Sunday of the church year, the Feast of Christ the King. In our opening collect, we hail Jesus as “King of kings and Lord of lords.” In our reading from Colossians, we claim that He is the image of the invisible God . . . For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell. He is the ultimate authority figure, a being of presumably unlimited power.

But listen to this Gospel! I know you’ve heard it before, but let it sink in. They hang him on a cross. He doesn’t control anyone — he can’t even control his own body: those being crucified invariably urinated and defecated on themselves as they slowly lost their ability to breathe. It was not just a death filled with physical agony, but a death shot through with public humiliation and utter powerlessness. In the midst of it all, Jesus forgives the very people doing it to him and offers Paradise to the man dying next to him. And this we are told, this, is the way God exercises power: not by dominating others, but by giving himself away in love.

The great physicist Niels Bohr often remarked that anyone who is not deeply shocked by quantum physics has simply not understood it. So let me invoke his wisdom now: anyone who is not shocked by the way Jesus reveals God’s power on the cross has simply not understood it. It overturns all conventional thinking. It overturns all religious thinking! The ancient Israelites wanted to believe that God was a mighty warrior who would destroy their enemies; they envisioned the Lord as a heavenly despot who would smash anyone that got in his way. But they got it wrong. Those biblical images of God seated on a throne, surrounded by clouds and lightning may convey grandeur and awe, but they do not and cannot convey God’s power. Only Jesus does that, and he does it most fully when he dies. There’s a reason why we have an execution device hanging on the wall of our church.

God’s power is love. Period. It is the persevering love that can take the hits — over and over again — until the final good is accomplished. It is the enduring love that, when one way is closed, always finds another way forward. God’s power is the love which can suffer the worst that death can dish out — and then bring life out of it. It is the relentless love which never, ever gives up on anyone. Jesus didn’t give up on that criminal: he gave him heaven. He didn’t give up on his executioners: he gave them forgiveness. That love ― unstoppable, undying, forever patient, forever determined ― will usher in the Kingdom and will include you in that Kingdom, and me, and everyone who wants it. And God will do that without ever forcing a single person to do anything. Just consider: one man, Jesus, embodies God’s love and fully surrenders to that love flowing through him, even to the point of death —  and thousands of years later, thousands of miles away, here we are: embraced, inspired, and transformed by that same love. Talk about power: I defy anyone to show me anything more powerful than that.

Obviously, that has profound implications for how we understand and exercise power in our own lives. But equally important it shapes the very nature of worship. It is precisely because Jesus Christ reveals the power of God as self-giving love that I worship him. He has no ego that needs to be stroked, no narcissistic needs that we must somehow satisfy. He doesn’t want us to cower before him in fear and say, “Oh, Lord, you are really great! You are the best ― please don’t smite me!” Jesus is King and Lord because he desires nothing for himself but to love us and inspire us to love in return. That is the only power he will ever exercise over us. And that is the very essence of God. To worship such a God is not to bow in grudging obedience to some big guy in the sky who can dominate us, but to delight in love which is unconditional and forever, which seeks nothing but goodness and joy. Worship is sharing in love, receiving it in ever greater abundance even as we give it away. That’s what gets me out of bed on Sunday morning; that’s what gets me out of bed every morning: I am a stone too heavy for God to lift, but I will gladly get myself up and worship such a God ― not because she makes me but because I want to.

But like God, I cannot make any of you desire that; I cannot force any of you to experience that. But I love you and I can encourage you to open your hearts and minds to the life-changing Truth ― and I can assure you that God’s love, more powerful than anything in this universe, will not give up on you until you do.

Sunday Sermon 11/13/16
The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Our reading from the gospel of Luke begins this morning with people marveling at the grandeur and beauty of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. This temple was the second temple that had been around for roughly 500 years. Century after century the Lord God’s temple stood enduring violence, desecration, re-dedication. Generation after generation Jews would make pilgrimages to worship and sacrifice at this temple. Even under the current Roman occupation the temple stood offering a degree of comfort and peace; no matter what happened the temple was there solid, stable.

And it was not only awe-inspiring because of its religious significance, but also for its architecture and physical dimensions. The plaza around the Temple was the size of six football fields constructed to hold hundreds of thousands of worshipers at one time. The walls that surrounded this plaza were about 16 feet thick and 20 stories high with enormous stones placed one on top of the other. In fact, part of that wall still stands and is known to us as the Wailing Wall - the holiest site in modern Judaism. But the centerpiece of all of this was the temple itself: a building of marble and gold with bronze entrance doors. It was said that you could not look at the temple in daylight for it would blind you.

This is what the people were marveling at when Jesus speaks up and says, “It will not always be this way. There will come a time when this amazing, seemingly invincible structure will be destroyed. Not one stone will be left upon another, all will be thrown down.” Unfortunately, Jesus doesn’t stop there. “Not only will the temple be destroyed, but there will be wars and plagues and earthquakes and famines.” And then Jesus gets personal, “This is not just something that will take place out there, but it will happen to you. You will be arrested. You will be persecuted and imprisoned. You will be hated and betrayed by family and some of you will even be put to death.” The people, in an attempt to gain some control of the situation grasping at straws ask “When? When will this happen? Can we have advanced warning?”

Jesus clearly isn’t interested in offering any specific timetable. The Jewish Temple was destroyed in 70 A.D., but for the rest of the predictions of chaos and destruction and upheaval, sadly, those are not unique experiences. Likely every generation at some point has looked around and thought that surely its time is the end. But Jesus is not going to get bogged down in predicting future dates - his bigger concern is to guide his followers in how they are to respond in such times of chaos and distress. What to do when the things that you can see, the things you have depended on, whether it be a temple or a religious establishment or political structures or peace in one’s personal life, become unstable and even crumble.

“Do not be terrified,” says Jesus. Do not be terrified. This is not about the power of positive thinking this is about the reality of our true foundation - God. God, who is infinitely more stable, more solid, more dependable than anything of this world. It is this God in whom we can safely put our trust and hope. So we do not need to be terrified when the world goes awry, but more than that, Jesus says it is in such times these that we are given an opportunity, an opportunity to testify, to bear witness to God. God is. God is present. God is good. God is love.

This message speaks to us just as much today as it did to those who heard it two thousand years ago. The world is not coming to an end, but following the results of the election there were some who may have felt it was close. Some are full of grief and fear, while others are bubbling over with joy and hope. Most of us are confused. The reality is that there are people here that voted for Trump. There are people here who voted for Clinton. Others voted for a 3rd party candidate. Perhaps there are others who did not vote at all. And here we all are people of one God, one faith, one baptism and yet we are not all of the same mind. We do not all see eye-to-eye, we do not all agree. But, it is in such a time as this, a time when our community, our country, our world is deeply divided and there is upheaval and distress that Jesus says, “Do not be terrified,” and that, “This is an opportunity to testify - to bear witness to God.” A God that is present, is good, is love. In whose name we’ve been baptized and together, even though we are not of the same mind, we will seek to love and respect one another, to see Christ is all persons, to strive for justice and peace and dignity for all. This is our testimony - this is our witness.

Earlier this week President Obama in seeking to ensure a peaceful transfer of power declared, “We are not Democrats first. We are not Republicans first. We are Americans first.” Yes, indeed, we are Americans, but even more than our identity and allegiance to our nation we are first and foremost God’s people. And now is our opportunity to testify.

MID WEEK REFLECTION
OCTOBER 26, 2016

Prayer for Sound Government BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER, p. 821

O Lord our Governor, bless the leaders of our land, that we

may be a people at peace among ourselves and a blessing to

other nations of the earth.

To the President and members of the Cabinet, to Governors

of States, Mayors of Cities, and to all in administrative

authority, grant wisdom and grace in the exercise of their

duties.

To Senators and Representatives, and those who make our

laws in States, Cities, and Towns, give courage, wisdom, and

foresight to provide for the needs of all our people, and to

fulfill our obligations in the community of nations.

To the Judges and officers of our Courts give understanding

and integrity, that human rights may be safeguarded and

justice served.

And finally, teach our people to rely on your strength and to

accept their responsibilities to their fellow citizens, that they

may elect trustworthy leaders and make wise decisions for

the well-being of our society; that we may serve you

faithfully in our generation and honor your holy Name.

Church of Our Saviour, Charlottesville

Luke 18:9-14

23 Pentecost/Proper 25

23 October 2016

The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

The story from the gospel of Luke today reads almost like a joke: A Pharisee and a tax collector go up to the temple to pray.  Which reminds me of another joke: There was a Catholic Bishop and two Protestant teenage boys stuck in an elevator together.  These mischievous boys decided to strike up a conversation. 

“Hey Father, have you heard that the Pope has started smoking?” asked one boy, “Such a dirty habit.”

“Well no,” the bishop responded, undisturbed, “I can’t say that I have.”

“Not just smoking, Father,” the boy continued, “but drinking too.  The Pope is hitting the bottle and he and Jack Daniels are mighty close.”

“Goodness,” the bishop said, “this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“And Father, along with all that smoking and drinking there are reports of women stashed away in the Vatican for the Pope.”

“Well,” the bishops responded, “that’s hard to believe, but thank you for keeping me informed.”

These boys were not getting the reaction that they wanted, so the second boy finally jumps into the conversation with a last-ditch effort, “Father, have you heard that the Pope is becoming Episcopalian?”

“Yes,” replied the bishop, “that’s what your friend has been telling me.”

It all depends on where you’re coming from that will inform who you see as the good guy and the bad guy in this joke, and that also applies to our story today: There was a Pharisee and a tax collector who went up to the temple to pray.  We are told that the Pharisee’s prayer was all about himself - how great he was.  But the tax collector’s prayer was quite different.  He couldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven as he beat his breast and said, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”  The punchline to this story, at least it was a punchline to the folks in Jesus’s day, was that it was the bad guy, the tax collector, and not the good guy that ended up going home justified - put in a right relationship with God - that day. 

But it’s not so much of a punchline to us, is it?  Actually, the story seems very predictable.  We’ve been around the block enough times to know that Pharisees are almost always cast in the gospels as hypocrites and self-righteous.  And knowing that, it’s an easy jump to the assumption that the simple moral of this story is: be humble.

However, with that simplistic understanding, Jesus could easily add us to the story, making us a third character with a prayer that might go something like this:  Lord, we thank you that we are not like other people.  We’re not hypocrites.  We’re not over-religious.  We’re not self-righteous.  And thank goodness that we are not like that Pharisee!  We come to church most weeks, sometimes now with WAC even on Wednesdays.  We sit and listen attentively to Scripture and we have learned that we should always, always be humble.

Obviously this kind of self-congratulatory response to the story is not what J had in mind.  So let’s take another look.  It may helpful to note that, in fact, everything the Pharisee says is true.  He is faithful in following the law.  He does do it better than most everyone around him.  And by the standards of the world and of his faith, he is righteous.  So let’s not be too quick to judge.

On the other hand, we have the tax collector and this is not a tax collector with a heart of gold.  He lives a rich life on the backs of the hard work of his neighbors whom he taxes.  The sins of the tax collector are real and serious.

And when we see it that way, then Jesus’s declaration packs a lot of punch - the bad guy, the rotten one is justified?  Put in a right relationship with God?  You mean to tell me that all you have to do is beat your breast and say one prayer and all is well with God?  There’s the rub.

So remembering that tension, let’s go back to the beginning.  What prompts this story, we are told, is that there were some in Jesus’s audience who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.  Now notice that the problem here is not the Pharisee’s religious observances.  Good works are essential to a life of faith and devotion.  Being a disciple is a balancing act in a complex world.  Good works have their place, but that place is not at the center of one’s relationship with God. 

Sadly, sometimes it’s those very good works that can lead us to a false sense of righteousness in ourselves which results in separating us from others and ultimately from God.  Because the very nature of feeling righteous or self-satisfied or at least better than others is based on comparison and competition.  Sometimes we hear or say ourselves, I may not be perfect, but, but at least I’m not like those bad people, or those lazy people, or those ignorant people who are clearly voting the wrong way in the presidential election.  I may not be perfect, but at least I am better than them.  That way of thinking causes us to draw lines and divide people into groups - the good and the bad, the righteous and the sinners.  Anytime we draw a line between those who are in and those who are out, our story this morning tells us that God will always be on the other side which not only separates ourselves from others, but from God.

The real punchline to this story is not that someone who seems undeserving, in this case a tax collector, is justified, put in a right relationship with God.  The real punchline, the joyfully, funny Good News is that righteousness and justification have nothing, nothing to do with who we are and what we do.  Rather it has everything to do with who God is and what God does.  God is compassionate and forgiving and merciful and full of grace.  And what does God do?  God showers that overflowing goodness, that right relationship, on us - all of us.

Heaven forbid that we let some misguided trust in ourselves or our good works get in the way.  We are invited to let go of all that puffs us up, all that makes us feel better than others, all that divides us into one group or the other.  We get to shed all of that nonsense and simply come before God just as we are, to some degree a mixture of good and bad, tax collector and Pharisee, trusting not in who we are or what we do, but who God is and what God does.  And you know what the really funny thing is?  Is that when we come before God with that kind of trust it is then that we become justified: our relationship with God is put right.  And we received the joyful outpouring of God’s great gifts: mercy, grace, love. 

SUNDAY SERMON - OCTOBER 16, 2016 - THE REV DAVID R. STODDART

Church of Our Saviour, Charlottesville

Genesis 32:22-31; Luke 18:1-8

22 Pentecost/Proper 24

16 October 2016

The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Some of you may have read Scott Peck’s The Road Less Traveled. Peck was a psychiatrist who was particularly interested in spiritual growth. He wrote a number of books, but this was his first. And it begins with a simple, one sentence paragraph: “Life is difficult.” He then goes on to write: “This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult – once we truly understand and accept it – then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters.”

Well. That is both an indisputable and totally provocative statement. Obviously, life is hard. It is also filled with joy and wonder and delight, but we all know that life is not easy. But the idea that accepting the difficulty of life makes life less difficult may make us uncomfortable. Actually, the main thesis of the book, which he goes on to articulate, is that most people do not fully accept the truth that life is difficult: they fight it and rebel against it continually, thus undermining their own spiritual growth and well-being.

This has been on my mind because the Bible definitely accepts the fact that life is difficult. Everything we hear from Scripture on Sunday mornings was written before the advent of antibiotics and anesthesia, before there was such a thing as psychiatry or psychotherapy. Not a single biblical author lived in a democracy that valued human rights. Life was hard in a way that most of us can’t even imagine. Stories from Scripture not only assume this, but they assume that if we are going to encounter God it will only happen in this difficult world, and not in some spiritual la-la land. If we are really going to experience God, somehow we have to accept this.

And that leads me to these two stories today, which vividly illustrate this point. Jacob is a liar who has cheated his brother and is about to meet him again after years of separation. He is scared, and he has reason to be. Like all of us at various times, Jacob has caused his own difficulties − and he is suffering. The widow in Jesus’ parable is among the most vulnerable members of her society. She has clearly been wronged or taken advantage of in some way. Like all of us at various times, she is a victim of powers and circumstances beyond her control − and she is suffering. But neither of these people rolls over and gives up. More significantly, neither of them spends any time wondering why life is so hard. They just accept that and go with it – Jacob wrestles with this mysterious stranger all night long; the widow keeps going back to that judge over and over again. And in both cases, accepting and tackling their difficulty – in Jacob’s case, literally tackling it – leads to blessing.

There is so much to say here, but let me focus on two essential points. The first is just how accessible God is. Presumably God could have appeared to Jacob in some awesome form, but he comes to him as a man, someone he can touch and wrestle with, skin to skin. The judge in the parable is a jerk, but he is still available to this widow, who comes to see him often, leading Jesus to say, “If even this guy is open and available, imagine how much more God is.” And here’s the crucial point: it’s not that God is close to us in spite of our difficulties: God is close to us in our difficulties. It is when we struggle that we so often encounter the Holy One. This may be counter-intuitive for some of us. It is easy to indulge in the fantasy of the perfect moment, a moment when everything is just right – our children are behaving, our spouse isn’t annoying us, our job is going well, the day is sunny, they chose decent hymns at church, UVA won the football game, all the stars align – and in that rare instant of peace and contentment, we can experience the presence of God. I have listened to people wistfully describe such scenarios, but if that is our expectation, we will miss out on everything. Part of accepting the difficulty of life is accepting that God meets us in the difficulty, not just in ideal moments that almost never happen. We may not like that, but it’s the truth.

But this leads to the second essential point: in those difficult times, God always wants to bless. Jacob won’t let go of that stranger until he blesses him; the widow won’t stop going back to that judge until he blesses her. I want to pause here and have you consider, honestly, what do you believe God wants to do in your life? Too many people actually believe, in their heart of hearts, that God wants to judge them, to punish them, to condemn them. But God is love, and if that statement is to have any value or relevance, it means that God always wants to bless us, always wants to do good in our lives, even and especially when we are struggling. Now, let me be clear: I don’t think God blesses us by magically making all our problems go away: after all, life is difficult. And I know it can take time for blessings to unfold and take time for us to recognize them as blessings. But I have been around the block enough times to know that it happens all the time, in ways both mundane and miraculous.

There are as many difficulties among us today as there are people gathered in this church. I certainly have my own. But we gather in the Spirit of Jesus Christ, who came to show us how close God truly is to us and to bless everyone, even the most distressed people, even the worst sinners. If you came here today to escape your troubles, let me gently suggest that you embrace them instead, and accept the truth that God wants to bless you in the midst of disease or financial hardship or emotional turmoil or whatever is making your life difficult right now. Not everyone will do it, but in a challenging world, that is the best way forward. Scott Peck calls it “The Road Less Traveled.” Jesus calls it faith. Whatever we call it, it leads to that joy and peace which the Holy Spirit seeks to instill in our difficult lives each and every day.