The sign we need. December 22, 2019 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Isaiah 7:10-16; Matthew 1:18-25

Some years ago, the Christian Science Monitor published an anonymous piece entitled, “Oh God, Just Give Me a Sign.” The author had gone through a traumatic period, and remembered being awake in the night many times, fervently asking God for a sign, some way to know for sure how to move forward in her life. She then writes:

As it happened, I did see a sign during all those sleepless nights — the same one, again and again. It was the enormous Citgo sign — now one of Boston’s landmarks — blinking its neon red, white and blue lights above Fenway Park.

Somehow, when I’d look up at all that bright activity going on at two or three in the morning, after all the noise of the traffic had stilled on my busy street and no one else in the world seemed to be awake — I’d stop feeling quite so alone. And once I became quieter and less afraid, I would find a way to pray to God more intelligently — to ask Him what I should do next, rather than just tearfully beg Him to give me a sign.

Life does improve for this person, and she goes on to say: “Every time I see that Citgo sign, I remember that with God’s help, I made it through that crisis. And then another. And another after that. The fact that I’ve survived again and again, each time I’ve prayed for answers, has taught me something.”

I have often heard people tell me they would like a sign from God when they are struggling and needing God to give them some comfort or guidance. It’s a pretty universal desire. Woody Allen spoke for many people when he said, “If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name in a Swiss bank.” So it may surprise us to realize that Ahaz, the king Isaiah addresses in our first reading, does not want any sign from God. Things are a mess: he’s a young and inexperienced ruler, being threatened by an alliance of two other kings, and he’s panicking. He even, horrifically, slaughters his own son as a burnt offering to try to avert calamity. So the prophet Isaiah confronts him and says, “Ask the Lord for a sign, any sign! God will give you what you need!” But Ahaz doesn’t want a sign because he’s afraid and doesn’t trust in God. And what happens? God gives him a sign anyway: “The young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.  And before he’s old enough to know the difference between right and wrong, the threat you are now facing will disappear.” We don’t know which young woman Isaiah was referring to: he may have been talking about his own wife and the child she was about to give birth to. The early church, of course, came to see these words as a prophecy about Jesus. But in the book of Isaiah, written centuries before Jesus was born, the point is that God gave Ahaz a sign, whether he wanted it or not.

In our Gospel passage, Joseph is also caught up in turmoil: the woman he is engaged to is pregnant, a source of scandal and shame. Joseph is a good man, but he’s not going to marry her. He does not ask God for a sign, but here again, God gives him one anyway: a dream telling him to proceed with his marriage to Mary because the child she carries was conceived by the Holy Spirit and will save his people.

What links that writer looking out at the Citgo sign with Ahaz the king of Judah and Joseph, the betrothed of Mary, is that God gives each of them a sign, even if they don’t get it at first, even if they don’t even ask for it . . . because the God who reveals herself to so many people down through the centuries, who becomes incarnate in Jesus Christ, who pours out the Holy Spirit on all flesh, is a God who wants to be known.

But before I tell you what I think the crucial lesson here is, let me tell you what I don’t think it is. I don’t think these readings should encourage us to engage in magical thinking, the kind of thinking that tries to manipulate God or use God to make decisions for us. You know, something like, “Okay, God. If this traffic light turns green in less than 10 seconds, I am going to take that as a sign that you want me to buy a new car.” I think it is safe to say that God doesn’t work that way. But because God does give so many signs in the Bible, and because so many people of faith believe God has given them signs, there is clearly something significant going on here. And to get at that, we need to remember why it is that God gives signs in the first place. And while the Lord occasionally gives a sign of judgment in Scripture, the vast majority of the time, when God gives a sign, God gives it to remove fear. The sign of Immanuel is given to help Ahaz trust in God and to take away his fear; the dream comes to Joseph so that he will not be afraid to take Mary as his wife; that writer looks out at the Citgo sign and sees it as a sign from God because it makes her feel less afraid.

We are in a season of expectation. We will soon celebrate the birth of God among us. And as we do so, I am sure many of us feel unsettled or uncertain or afraid, for any number of reasons. But we can rightly expect that the One who became enfleshed in Jesus will find a way to touch us and give us signs that set us free from fear, signs that will encourage us, literally give us courage, to move forward in our day or in our life with confidence and the sure knowledge that God is with us. That could take a very dramatic form and sometimes does, but in the Bible and certainly in my own life, God often moves through very ordinary events, like the birth of a baby, a dream, a conversation, looking out the window and seeing a beautiful sky, having a surge of hope come out of nowhere while we pour a cup of tea or wait in line at the grocery store. There is no moment too small for God, who is always moving and always loving. I hope you’ve had such moments: I think they happen a lot. And if we ever doubt our experience or wonder whether a particular event was truly revelatory, we need only ask ourselves one question: Did it lessen our fear? Did it renew our courage? If so, then we can be confident that God used that moment to give us the sign that we need.

Inhabit John's question. December 15, 2019 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Matthew 11:2-11

Children’s homilies don’t always go as planned. One memorable example of that took place
during Advent several years ago, and it featured a special guest appearance by John the Baptist,
in the form of Sam Sheridan. Sam is our seminarian who, God willing, will graduate from
seminary and be ordained a deacon in the spring. And he has a flair for drama. For a number of
years he did skits with us as part of worship for Summer Celebration. He’s a great person. And
he really got into this role. He dressed up in a primitive outfit, and when the children were
gathered up front, he came running down the aisle, shouting, “Repent! Repent! The Messiah is
coming!” It was supposed to be fun and engaging. Well, it scared them. The kids startled and
looked at Sam in horror and a couple of them sprang up and ran back to the pews to be with
their parents. Sam tried to talk to the children but the homily never recovered. And for a couple
of years afterwards, some of those kids would back away and look askance whenever they saw
Sam coming. We really don’t try to traumatize children on Sundays, but I suppose it was at least
a reminder of how scary John the Baptist can be. And how human.

We saw the scary part last week, when John lashed out at the “brood of vipers” before him and
warned of the wrath to come. But we see the humanity this week. Just a few short chapters ago,
Matthew’s Gospel tells us that John was so convinced that Jesus was the Messiah that he said, I
need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me? And after the baptism, John heard that
voice from heaven saying This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased. And John
was a prophet, I mean the real deal: fierce, strong, and utterly committed. But in the Gospel
passage today, he is in prison and he is uncertain. Herod will soon have him killed. His time is
short. And he sends his disciples to Jesus to ask, Are you the one who is to come, or are we to
wait for another? Did John forget about the baptism? Why is he now doubting? Matthew gives
us no insight into his thinking or his emotions. All we have is that question from a man about to
die: Are you the one?

I say this is so human because we can all relate to it. We run hot and cold; we can feel utterly
convinced of something one day and give up on it the next. If we are even half awake, we have
had moments when we doubt things we most believe in, when we question beliefs we have long
held dear. We all know what it’s like to wonder what God is up to, or if God is up to anything.
And such moments are not necessarily bad. For spiritually alive people, they are sometimes
essential. It would, for example, be easy to treat Christmas as just a pretty spectacle. We enjoy
the music and the decorations, we go to our parties and buy our gifts, and we come to church
and hear about the baby Jesus. It’s all lovely and familiar. It goes down easy. But perhaps it
shouldn’t. John’s question is one we should all ask of Christ: Are you the one? Is Jesus God
enfleshed, the human face of the Creator? Does God really enter into the world in poverty and
weakness? Can this man Jesus truly save us and bring us into right relationship with God and
each other? Can Christ satisfy our deepest needs for connection and meaning? Do we actually
have the Spirit of Christ living in us? Will we share in the resurrection of Jesus after we die? Do
we believe all this? Do we live like we believe all this? Forget for a moment the candles, the
cookies, and the carols. Inhabit John’s question: Are you the one?

If we do, Jesus’ answer to John is also addressed to us. And his response is classic Christ:
indirect. He doesn’t say, “Of course I’m the one! Haven’t you read the Creed?” He doesn’t argue
theology or try to prove anything. Instead he says this to John’s disciples, Go and tell John what
you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf
hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is
anyone who takes no offense at me. Jesus is not only performing such deeds, but he is echoing
the words of Isaiah we heard in our first lesson, words that describe the end of exile and tell us
what physical and spiritual renewal looks like. How do we know that Jesus is the one? Because
whenever people let down their guard and take no offense at him but trust him, he brings
healing and new life.

One of my greatest joys is witnessing that very reality in the life of our parish. In the past two
weeks, I have had several people talk to me after Men’s Bible study, Exploring the Word Bible
study, and Contemplative Prayer and they have told me how they are coming to a new and
deeper understanding of Christ, and experiencing God in ways that are healing and renewing.
Several times in the last two weeks, I have spoken with people after Mother Kathleen or I have
prayed for them and heard how they are experiencing the love of Christ in this community and
how that is blessing them. I hear and see the energy people have as they do various ministries
for the sake of Christ. Even in this very human and flawed parish of ours, Jesus Christ is alive
and doing what only Christ can do.

And we need only be open enough and expectant enough to see it. Please don’t let Advent just be
about shopping and decorating. I would urge all of us in the coming days to think about how we
experience Christ in our lives. Christ is God meeting us in our humanity: so how is God meeting
you in your humanity? It is spiritually helpful to remember how we have experienced Christ in
the past and how we are experiencing Christ now. And then, in light of that, we can all consider
where we are not experiencing Christ but need to. And like John, we can question him from that
place. If we are trapped in the prison of doubt and despair, to reach out to Christ and ask,
“Where are you?” If we need forgiveness, to ask Christ to set us free. If we have grown cold in
faith or feel distant from God or we are just distracted by the busyness of life, to ask Christ to
renew us and refocus us on what matters most. When we lower our defenses and reach out to
Christ in prayer, we can be confident that he will find a way to touch us. The Gospel, after all, is
not a secret. Look around you, even in this parish. Hear and see what is happening in people’s
lives. For anyone and everyone who takes no offense at him, Jesus Christ finds a way to come
and show them that he is the One.

A change of mind. December 8, 2019 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Matthew 3:1-12, Isaiah 11:1-10

Here’s my question: What was it that got the people of Jerusalem and all of Judea to leave the comfort of their homes and go out into the wilderness to hear John the Baptist preach a message of repentance? I mean, who here would flock to the downtown mall if we heard there was a preacher shouting, “Repent!” No one, that’s who. We’d all head in the opposite direction.

That’s probably because the word “repent” to our ears carries so baggage - weighed down with things like regret, guilt, and shame. All the things we’d, understandably, rather avoid. Add to that the element of threat that is usually included, something along the lines of “Repent or else you’ll burn in the fires of hell!” And no wonder we turn a deaf ear. But back in the day, in John the Baptist’s day, “Repent!” didn’t sound like that. As you may know, the original Greek word for repentance, “metanoia,” didn’t have all the negative connotations that we hear today. The call to metanoia, repentance, was literally and simply a call to change one’s mind.

And if that’s the case, if that’s what John the Baptist is really proclaiming, “Repent, change your mind, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” then the message of repentance is less about wrongdoing and condemnation and more about healing and transformation. Because it all begins with the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom which has already come near. Far too often we are led to believe that our good behavior will somehow be the catalyst that ushers in God’s kingdom. But according to John, it’s the exact opposite. Repentance is not what makes the kingdom come. Repentance how we respond to that coming - by changing our minds, our hearts, the direction of our lives and turn towards the kingdom of heaven that is already in our midst.

Think of it this way. Imagine you are standing in a circle of people. In the center of the circle, there is a source of light which we know to be God. But rather than facing the center and the light, you are standing with your back to the light, facing outward. When you stand this way, facing away from the light, what you see is primarily cast in shadows. You don’t see the light. And not only that, you don’t see all the others who are with you in the circle. From your point of view, you are disconnected. Alone in the dark. Now imagine that even though you are turned around you sense a warmth on your back. It’s the light. You turn to face the light and when you turn toward the light, you no longer see only darkness. When you turn toward the light, your shadow is behind you. When you turn toward the light, you can now see the other people who are standing there with you. You can see that the light is shining on you along with everyone else connecting everyone in radiance and love. Changing your mind, making the decision to turn away from the shadows and instead to face the light: this is metanoia. This is repentance.

So what does that look like in real life? Well, how many of you, like me, sometimes get into bed at night, look back on the day, and hear words that you wish you hadn’t said? See actions that you wish you hadn’t taken? Made choices that you already regret? You’re sorry now and recognize that that’s not who you want to be. That that’s not who you are created and called to be. That’s repentance. The changing of your mind. The turning toward the light of God. Opening yourself up to inner healing and transformation that, with God’s help, spurs you and all of us onto change of behavior. To ask for forgiveness, to make amends, and to refrain from doing it again. 

That’s the most traditional way of understanding repentance. But if repentance is more than just addressing outward behaviors, if it really has to do with a change of mind, a turning toward God then there is much more to it. For when we change and turn, we are becoming more fully who we are created to be. So that means that repentance also happens when we are living from our most authentic selves, when we are open and true with ourselves and others. Which can occur anytime doing most anything - enjoying time with friends, watching the beauty of a sunset, listening to exquisite music, working on a project. Any time we experience being in that flow, allowing God’s spirit to move freely in us and through us we are repenting.

And as we let the Spirit flow through us, repentance rightly moves from being just an individual, private matter to a communal, public practice. For repentance involves not just changing our own individual minds but working to change our society’s mind so that we, as God’s people, turn away from practices and policies that are at odds with the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom where, as we heard in our reading from the prophet Isaiah, suffering and violence are no more, but peace and equity reign. As we take action to address injustices, right wrongs, honor the light that shines on and in all peoples, we engage in the process of repentance.

And I use that word “process” intentionally because repenting is not a one-time event. It’s an ongoing spiritual practice. An invitation to a way of life. A way of life that is always turning toward what is more real, more true, more honest, more rooted in the light and love of God. That’s why, I believe, all those people left the comfort of their homes and headed out to the wilderness. And that’s why, I believe, that we have come here today - because deep down we know that we need to hear John’s message. A message of repentance that is actually good news. Repent, change your mind, turn toward God - and behold the kingdom of heaven that is already near!

Endless wellspring of love and life. Thanksgiving Eve 2019 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

The great Swiss theologian Karl Barth once said that the best way to preach the Gospel is with the Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other. So I will take his advice tonight and do that. On Saturday, as I was eating my eggs and drinking my tea, I was reading The New York Times. I ignored the articles on how to make cranberry sauce and how to avoid political discussions at the dinner table, and came across an opinion piece entitled, “Why Gratitude is Wasted on Thanksgiving.” Well, that piqued my curiosity, so I read it. It was written by a psychologist named David DeSteno. After affirming how important and healthy being thankful is, he says this:

But truth be told, gratitude is wasted on Thanksgiving. Don’t get me wrong: I love the rhythms and rituals of the day as much as anyone. It’s just that the very things that make Thanksgiving so wonderful — the presence of family and friends, the time off from work, indulging in that extra slice of turkey — also make gratitude unnecessary.

Why? Because, he writes, “one of gratitude’s central purposes is to help us form strong bonds with other people.” He goes on to contend that giving thanks helps us get to know other people better, makes us more attractive to others, and strengthens our ties with them. But except for the occasional crazy relative or friend of a friend, most of us will spend Thanksgiving with people we already love and feel close to. And that’s great, but the author does not want us to forget the social benefits of giving thanks that extend beyond our immediate circle.

He writes from a secular point of view, but I was struck by how much his piece resonates with Scripture. Because in the Bible, gratitude is also all about relationship. “Thank,” after all, is a transitive verb. I can’t just thank: I have to thank someone. And when I do, I form a bond with that someone. Now, some religious thinking both in the ancient world and now, sees thanking God as a form of ingratiation, a way of staying on God’s good side. God has given us all this stuff, so we thank God for it so that God doesn’t feel unappreciated or get annoyed but continues to give us more stuff. But that is not the schema laid out in Deuteronomy. As we just heard in our first lesson tonight, when the Israelites offer to God the first fruits of their harvest, they do so remembering all that God has done with them and for them over centuries. They thank God as a way of deepening their faith and trust. For the Israelites, thanksgiving is not transactional — “Here’s our thank offering, give us more food.” — it’s relational — “Here’s our thank offering, we want to love you more.”

I can’t emphasize that enough. We don’t thank God to stroke God’s ego. As Jesus reveals it, God has no ego to stroke. We thank God to grow closer to God, who longs for us to be close. And I think this really helps us understand the Gospel tonight. Jesus has just fed 5,000 people, and that crowd is not eager for him to disappear when he leaves. But when they find him again, he points out, correctly, that they just want more loaves and fishes. What they need, though, is the food that leads to eternal life, the spiritual food which he offers. Put simply, their gratitude should not lead to more bread, but to a deeper relationship with God. 

Most of us here have lots of stuff. We have homes, cars, clothes, and ample amounts of food. And of course it is good to realize that and appreciate that. But as we thank God for all of it, we are called to look beyond our material abundance to an abundance of relationship that God calls us into. For if there is one thing that our acts of thanksgiving should lead us to, it’s the realization that at the heart of all reality is an endless wellspring of love and life, the God Jesus reveals to us. And the unconditional love of that God flows through us at all times and in all circumstances. And it will forever, giving us life forever. Giving thanks helps us to know this God, and the more we know God, the more thanksgiving will pour out of us. This is why Paul can write so exuberantly to the Philippians, urging them to Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Like so many saints, like so many believers over the centuries, Paul comes to understand in his heart, soul, mind, and gut that the food we eat is just the beginning of what we have to be thankful for. As we grow closer to God in gratitude and our hearts expand in love, we see the full abundance we enjoy: the sun lighting our days; the moon and stars shining in the night; the astonishing beauty of creation; every breeze, every raindrop; every breath of life we take; every moment of love we cherish. And the more we thank God for all of it, the more we know that God is in all of it, and that, in God, all of it is ours. We are one with the Creator and with all of creation. Paul speaks the truth magnificently in his first letter to the Corinthians: For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future — all belong to you, and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.

In just a few minutes, we will offer the Great Thanksgiving, and Mother Kathleen will pray on our behalf, saying, “It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give thanks to you, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth.” It is wonderful to be together in this lovely space, great to enjoy each other and our time together, but the primary reason for us to gather here is to deepen our experience of the Creator, and grow closer to the Holy One whose endless love and grace flows through us every moment. If we can open our hearts to God and rejoice in the intimate presence of God with us right now, then our gratitude will not be wasted. Because thanksgiving is all about relationship. The more we thank God, the more we will know God, and the more we know God, the more we will thank God — always and everywhere.

The message of coming. December 1, 2019 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Matthew 24:36-44

“...so too will be the coming of the Son of Man,” Jesus says, “Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left.” This vision of some people being taken and others being left on earth was popularized over the last twenty years by a host of books, games, and movies known as the Left Behind series. In which a future apocalypse is depicted as a time when those who are deemed “real Christians” are taken up to heaven leaving most everyone else, “the damned,” behind to face a literal hell on earth.

For reasons that I don’t fully understand this violent and distorted view of the end is gleefully embraced by some. While most Christians in mainline traditions, Catholic, Lutherans, Episcopalians and the like, consider such end time destruction scenarios as at best dark fiction borne out of poor theology or just plain crazy talk. Certainly not the kind of thing we talk about in church. At least, that is, not until Advent rolls around. It’s rather ironic that at the beginning of every new church year, which we celebrate today, the first Sunday in the season of Advent, we turn our attention to thoughts about the end. And I don’t mean the end of the year, but the end of time as we know it.

That’s because at the heart of Advent is the message of coming. God coming to us in three distinct ways. The first coming of God happen when God walked on this earth as Jesus of Nazareth. And I’m sure that it’s not lost on anyone here that we will celebrate that coming in just a few short weeks with the Feast of the Incarnation, better known to most of us as Christmas.

But there’s more. God in Christ has also promised to come again in a final coming - the coming of the Son of Man which we hear about in our gospel reading today. And two things I’d like to note about this. One is that contrary to popular belief, this passage isn’t suggesting that the faithful ones are those who are taken. It’s actually just the opposite, those who are left behind are blessed because, like Noah’s family, they escape the great judgment. But before we go too far down that rabbit hole, the second thing and more important thing to know is that this scripture is not intended to be taken literally. The whole point Jesus is making here is that his coming again will be completely unexpected. We will be going about our business, working in the field, grinding mill, eating, drinking, and marrying and Christ will come out of the blue.

But this isn’t supposed to be taken as a threat. Jesus talks about the end of time not in order to fill us full of fear, but full of hope. Hope that there is more to our story that what we have already known and experienced. Hope that regardless of life is going, whether this was the best Thanksgiving or the worst or somewhere in between, that this is not all there is. Jesus proclaims the good news that whatever our story and struggle, it is enfolded into God’s greater story and salvation. For God is our Alpha and Omega, our beginning and our end. And because that is so, no matter what is going on in this world - in the grand scheme of things or in our own individual lives - in God’s time, a time that no one knows except the Father, the Son of Man will come in the power of love and all will be made well.

 

That’s the hope of the second coming of God. But in the meantime, the time in which we live - the time where Christ has already come, but clearly the fullness of that salvation has yet to be completely realized - God still promises to come. So the call goes out to stay awake, alert, ready.

But how exactly do we do that? Well, understanding the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon may help us in this matter. Baader-Meinhof, also known as the frequency illusion, describes what we’ve all probably experienced multiple times in our lives. It’s when we stumble upon something new - at least it seems new to us - and then it seems to crop up everywhere. Like say you start thinking about getting a blue car because it would be something different. But now that the idea of a blue car is at the forefront of your mind all of a sudden you start seeing all these blue cars on the road. You never knew there we so many blue cars. Or let’s say you go see a movie about gorillas and then in the days following you notice gorillas everywhere - in stores you shop, in the commercials you watch, in the print you read. This is the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. And it happens not necessarily because you’ve really come across more instances of blue cars or hairy gorillas. More likely, they were always there, but just went unnoticed. The way science explains this is that when our brains are stimulated by a new piece of information it triggers selective attention. The brain subconsciously thinks, "Hey, that's awesome! I'm going to look for that new thing without actually thinking about it." And lo and behold you now see it. It’s a waking up to what’s been there all along.

And that’s exactly what Jesus is calling for today. For us to wake up and see what’s been there all along - God’s loving and active presence in our daily lives. How God comes in the ordinary and the routine and we don’t notice. Well, no more, Jesus says. No more of that. From here on out pay attention. See the ways that God is coming. For God will show up today - in the midst of the hustle and bustle, the messy and chaotic, even in the mundane and routine. And how will you know that God has come? Because in some way grace or peace or mercy or love will reveal itself to you. Expect it. Be ready for it. And make note of it so that your brain becomes more attentive to seeing all the ways the Holy Spirit moving in this world. Because it has been there all along. So wake up and live each day in the wonderful hope of God’s coming - today, tomorrow, and forever.