Nagoya Mission

December 28, 2008

Luke 2: 22-40

        I find it very interesting that at this point, early in the life of Jesus, there is a famous duo.  These two, Anna and Simeon, were not married and we do not get a sense that they even knew each other; nevertheless they are a double act that we dare not separate. 
         We tend to dissect their voices into separate categories, Simeon and then Anna, as if their songs were distinct classes, the voice of a devout follower and then the voice of a prophetess.  Rather, Anna and Simeon are like Simon and Garfunkel, Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Sherlock and Watson, fish and chips.  Luke, I believe, emphasizes that we should see them, the two together, working and complementing and thus, are be seen in tandem, because it is their combination, and the words they speak, that are central for us to understand.  
         The Holy Spirit directed that this duo would come together at a moment when this family with their newborn had fulfilled the purification customs of that culture and then moved on to having this first born male blessed.  Just as we cannot separate the voices of a duo singing, without also destroying the integrity of the duet, God through the Holy Spirit is placing an exclamation point in both Simeon and Anna on this child.  And, God is doing so in the most important place for observant Jews, the Temple.  The words of these two elders also point to what was to happen in thirty or so years, “a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” 
         Why?  Why is this duo speaking with one voice together?  This pair is coming together to not only express incredible joy of this long expected newborn child, the promised anointed one, but something else, grief and … the cross.
         If you have Bibles in front of you, you will notice that all that separates today’s lesson in Luke from the wonderful story of the shepherds running from the manger to tell all that they had seen and heard is one line on the fact that the newborn was circumcised and given the name Jesus.  Then all of a sudden, it is Mary, Joseph and the baby who are traveling to Jerusalem and the Temple, no less where they encounter Simeon and Anna.
         Frederick Buechner, Presbyterian minister and author, described the first part of the encounter this way: “Years before, [Simeon had] been told he wouldn't die till he'd seen the Messiah with his own two eyes, and time was running out.  When the moment finally came, one look through his cataract lenses was all it took.  He asked if it would be all right to hold the baby in his arms, and they told him to go ahead but be careful not to drop him.  ‘Lord, now let thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation,’ he said, the baby playing with the fringes of his beard.  The parents were pleased as punch, so he blessed them too for good measure.  Then something about the mother stopped him, and his expression changed. What he saw in her face was a long way off, but it was there so plainly he couldn't pretend. ‘[This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel... and a] sword will pierce through your soul," he said.  He would have rather bitten off his tongue than said it, but in that holy place he felt he had no choice.  Then he handed her back the baby and departed in something less than the perfect peace he'd dreamed of all the long years of his waiting.1
         This quick departure from Bethlehem to Jerusalem is a reminder that this child of Christmas, this babe of Bethlehem, a joy to the world, was also born into a world of tragedy and pain and evil.  Within the first two chapters of his gospel, Luke places us squarely in that little town of Bethlehem and then within walking distance of a hill called Golgotha.
         It is like Luke somehow knew how the world would become about the birth of Jesus.  As we know, there is an unmistakable romanticism that has grown up around Christmas, where even places like in Japan are moved to use the symbols and songs and candles.  Much of that romanticism for Christians however, centers on the child asleep in the hay, on the hope, the wonder, and the love connected with the birth of this child.
         In that sense, these words of Simeon may startle us into an unwanted realism, joy but also pain.  But what Simeon’s words do more than anything else is demonstrate with inescapable precision the intimate connection between the manger and the cross.  
         But it does not end on that note, for just as the words of Simeon trailed off leaving Mary and Joseph pondering their meaning, we hear Anna.  “Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.”2
         The sword is not the last word.  Anna somehow knew, possibly as a prophetess, the only prophetess in the New Testament, that neither the manger nor the cross contained the last word about Jesus.  The word about Jesus was not his remarkable and joyful birth in Bethlehem; nor was that finishing words spoken at the cross of Golgotha.  The ultimate word was one spoken by the angel at the empty tomb on Easter morning, the “fear not!”  A word that is powerful enough to dispel all the grief and all the darkness.  Indeed, we can work out from Luke that it was not a star that the magi followed, but the first, faint hints of the sunrise of Easter that shone down on that Bethlehem stable.
         With resurrection eyes Simeon and Anna sing and see through the darkness to not only the manger and but also the cross.
         It is Christmas, a time for us to gather in joy for the fulfillment once again of God’s promises of love.  If we can see with resurrection eyes this event, first like Simeon and then like Anna, perhaps from such a vision we can pull together a measure of genuine joy ? a joy that has little to do with the romanticism surrounding Christmas and New Year’s, a joy that does not ask us to "pack up all our cares and woes," and push them aside or into the past.  Rather, a joy that begs us to come just as we are, to the manger … and the cross, weighed down with every kind of pain and sorrow and emptiness we may feel... to come and celebrate the only kind of joy that can sustain us in a time such as this... the same joy of Simeon and Anna, whose eyes beheld the promise of God despite the darkness.
         Simeon was sustained by such a vision to trust that one day he would see the messiah; Anna was sustained by such a vision to proclaim to all and confidence, “thanks to God” and to speak “about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.”3
         May we be sustained as this year draws to a close and new day begins.  And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us... Immanuel, God with us.  God with us at the manger…God with us at the cross.  Even here, even now, God with us.  Amen.

1 Frederick Buechner, Peculiar Treasures, New York; Harper and Row, 1979, pp. 156-157.
2 Vs. 38
3 Vs. 38

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

December 24, 2008 (Christmas Eve)

Luke 2: 1-16

        Where do you consider home?  In a recent Pew survey in the United States, it was found that among all foreign-born adults, including recent arrivals to the United States “38 percent describe home as their country of birth.”1
         Personally, I think that survey result is far too one-dimensional.  I wish that survey elaborated further, because I have found the question of where one considers “home” to be not necessarily a very easy answer.  If a single person has a contract to live in a certain place, for a certain time say a year or two, the meaning of home may not be the same, compared to a person, married, with children living in the same community for years.  One’s answer about home would be quite different.
         An old adage goes, “home is the where heart is.”  From my experience that also is naive, for the suggestion is that a person cannot love more than one place and consider more than one place home.  Alain de Botton, a philosopher in the United Kingdom, put it this way “To speak of home in relation to a building (or place) is simply to recognize its harmony with the things we believe are most important.”2
         That survey result, the broad and various meanings of home and what our experiences may be, are a crucial staring point for us to begin to understand the good news of Christmas.
         As our story goes, Jesus was not born in a home or hospital.  As there was no room in the inn, he was born in a stable or barn and placed in a feeding trough termed a manger.  Clearly temporary!  For how long that was, we do not know.  And the village where he was born, Bethlehem, was not the place were he was to spend much time.  Joseph and Mary were there because as the Gospel tells us, Joseph had to --- something that we who live in Japan can fully understand --- register with his family because of a Roman census based on his ancestral roots.  Joseph was part of the tribe of Benjamin, like King David it’s most well known of ancestors.
         Then as we come to find out later, this new born baby within weeks, with his parents had to flee death, and live as refugees in Egypt, until the family finally settled down in Nazareth.  That varied experience of home continues for an adult Jesus, as Nazareth and later Capernaum are not necessarily stable locations.  When Jesus begins his ministry, Nazareth is ready to throw stones at him and Capernaum the home of Peter, seems to have been an office for Jesus.  And there of course Jesus’ own words: “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”3
         Home!  As I said before home takes on a whole new meaning in the context of the good news of Christmas.  Let me share what I mean by telling you this story.  This story may or may not be true.  The source from which I secured it stated that it has not been legitimately verified.4  And in my own research, I did not find anything that supported or contradicted its authenticity, yet, whether it is true or not, it illustrates what I mean.
         Back in 1994, after the disintegration of the Soviet Union, two consultants from the US were invited by the Russian Department of Education to provide assistance on the teaching of ethics in prisons, at businesses, fire and police departments and even at a large orphanage. 
          They were also told they could teach on occasion if they chose from the perspective of their Christian faith.  However, it was the experience of these two in the Russian orphanage that proved to be particularly illuminating.  According to one of them, "Will Fish" possibly a pseudonym for an anonymous Christian, there were about 100 boys and girls in the orphanage, children who had been abandoned, some who had been abused, but all left in the care of a government-run program.  This Fish person tells the following story of what happened when Christmas approached and they presented a program on the story of Christmas. 
         "We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem," says Fish.  "Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger.  Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger.  Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins we had brought.  Following instructions, the children with the help of the staff, tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw.  Small squares of flannel were used for the baby's blanket.  Before the event, we had cut doll like babies from tan felt we had brought.  The children were busy assembling their mangers as we walked among them to see if they needed any help.  All went well until we got to one table where little ‘Misha’ sat - he looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project.  As we looked at the little boy's manger, we were startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger.”
         "We called for the translator to ask the boy why there were two babies in the manger.  Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at his completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously.  For such a young boy, he related the story accurately - until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger.  Then ‘Misha’ started to ad lib.  He made up his own ending to the story as he said, 'And when Mary laid the baby in the manger, baby Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay.  No, I told him as I have no mamma and I have no papa.  Then baby Jesus told me I could stay with him.  But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did.  But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift.  I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift.  So I asked Jesus and Jesus told me, ‘If you keep me warm that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me.’  So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him - for always.’”
         We call Jesus by the name Emmanuel, which means "God (is) with us."  That what Christmas is about; God who came in Jesus Christ, came to us, to dwell with us, and this Jesus will never abandon or abuse us, but will stay with us - for always.
         You see, we are never completely without companionship or support, for we have a home, as long as there are two babies in the manger.  Furthermore, this same Jesus will stay with us on every journey we take, every step of the way, no matter where we find ourselves, no matter what we consider home, and will guide us toward an everlasting kingdom, one marked by love and peace and justice.
         There is something more, because there is always room for another baby in the manger.  Our challenge as Christians is never simply to stay close to Jesus and to enjoy his forgiveness, acceptance and peace.  Instead, we are to explain to the world why we are choosing to be one of the babies in the manger, to dwell with Jesus as he has with us.  On Christmas, and everyday, Jesus invites us to join him, as Misha understood, for the Christmas manger is really and truly our home.  Amen.

1 “Americans changing homes at lowest recorded rate,” Roberts, Sam, International Herald Tribune, Monday, December 22, 2008.
2 http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/6151624.stm
3 Luke 9:58; Matthew 8:20
4 www.homiletics.com

December 21, 2008

Luke 1: 67-79

    “I like the Christmas Jesus best.”  That’s what the actor Will Ferrell says in the movie comedy Talladega Nights, when he is playing a stock car driver named Ricky Bobby.  “Dear tiny Jesus,” he says as he begins his prayer at a family meal.  “Golden fleece diapers, with your tiny, fat, balled-up fist ….”  At this point his wife interjects, “Jesus did grow up.  You don’t always have to call him baby.”  “I like the Christmas Jesus best when I’m saying grace,” Ricky Bobby insists.  And so he continues his prayer, “Dear 8 lb., 6 oz., newborn infant Jesus.  Don’t even know a word yet.  Just a little infant, so cuddly, but still omnipotent …. Thank you for all your power and your grace, dear baby God.  Amen.”1
     Now we might laugh at that portrayal, but the truth is that all of us have images of Christmas, and of Jesus, too.  Ours may include watching children sing “Away in a manger, no crib for his bed…,” or perhaps lights or “illumination,” and the chance to sing “Silent night, holy night...”  Among the images we have are Mary and Joseph, the village of Bethlehem, the manger and surrounding stable, the Shepherds in the field, the three magi.  
     Yet, there is one image for the Advent and Christmas season that you may not have had before.  This image is far older and was put into words long before “Silent Night” was sung for the first time in a village church in Austria.  That image of course is --- unicorn Jesus.2
     Obviously I am being dramatic to make a point.  Yet, this symbolic image of the baby Jesus portrayed as a unicorn was important enough to be placed in stained glass windows and on tapestries in Medieval Europe.  To be honest, it was never really a very popular image of Jesus in the church even then, partly because it is based on a mythical animal, the unicorn.  Yet that image did exist and its roots are found and related to our gospel.
     Today’s gospel is the song of Zechariah, which he sang upon regaining the power of speech after the birth of his son, John, whom we later called the Baptist.  If you may remember, elderly Zechariah had gone mute because he did not believe the angel who had come to tell him that his wife, Elizabeth was to become pregnant.  Now, nine months later, after the birth of John, Zechariah is filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke.

    But there is something more about the song of Zechariah called the Benedictus, Latin for, “Blessed be” that I would like to focus on.  Specifically I want you to examine with me verses 69-70 “He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David (as he said through his holy prophets of long ago).”  This is the coming of the messiah, who we know to be Jesus, which Zechariah is singing about in his spirit filled song, not John the Baptist.  John was not of the house of David.  So, Jesus is that “horn of salvation.”
     However, that term “horn of salvation” is pretty much lost on us.  For example, in the NIV Bible, you may have a footnote at the end of the word "horn" that says: "Horn here symbolizes strength."  In the NRSV Bible the verse would read, “He has raised up a mighty savior for us…” with a footnote that the Greek would say, “a horn of salvation.”
     What is going on?  The horn, a basic item in that agricultural world, is described and used in the Old Testament in a variety of different ways with many rich meanings.  A horn could be a ram's horn, blown to sound the "all-clear" to go up the mountain of God or to topple Jericho's walls.3  A horn is the term used to describe the four upright corners of the altar in the Temple in Jerusalem, where atoning sacrificial blood from animals was painted or where a person could grasp from which to beg mercy and seek sanctuary.4 The list goes on for a horn could be a container to hold king-anointing oil, as a musical instrument of worship to God and as a symbol of royalty and power.5
     Then of course there is the reference to which our Bible translators allude, the horn could be a sign of strength as a deadly weapon against the Lord's enemies.  That image as a sign of strength and as a deadly weapon, comes from David’s song after he had defeated Saul to become king, “He said, ‘The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation.’”6  In that context “horn of salvation” meant a weapon that could be used on the battlefield, not necessarily in a warrior’s hand, but like a bull that comes charging in a bull fight.  Beside this reference and Psalm 18:2, are the only places where the whole phrase "horn of salvation" is used.
     The varied meanings of “horn” and “horn of salvation” in the bible is the basis for the mythical image of a unicorn used to portray the song of Zechariah in windows and tapestries in medieval Europe.  Let me quote from a 12th century bestiary, which is kind of like an Encyclopedia about the natural world:
     “Our Lord Jesus Christ is also a Unicorn spiritually, about whom it is said: ‘He hath raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his son David.’  The fact that it has just one horn on its head means what he himself said: ‘I and the Father are One.’”7
     As we know, Jesus, is our horn of salvation, but is no longer portrayed as a unicorn during the Advent and Christmas seasons.  As far as I know there are no specifically Christian unicorn ornaments on Christmas trees.  And I am not saying that we need to return to that medieval picture.  Rather, these two verses simply point to the fact that we can be very much like Ricky Bobby, the stock car race driver, caught up in a limited, small, and Christmas child.
     Furthermore, instead of seeing what will come in Bethlehem, we need to keep in mind how in one way or another, the promise of the savior completes, fulfills, embodies God’s salvation of the world; meaning that if we are not paying attention to these great works of God that are intended in that birth in Bethlehem, we are missing out on part of the path that was prepared for the messiah in our lives and the world.  It is like receiving a map to visit a friend, and because we cannot understand all of the language of the map we assume the road to visit our friend is a small dirt path in the country, unaware that that narrow dirt road is actually a grand highway.
     The reason we know that is true because that is also in the song for Zechariah, “as he said through his holy prophets of long ago.”8  That simply means that “horn” and “horn of salvation” for example, phrases used frequently throughout the Bible by the prophets, are not mere puns or double-entendres but gold-mines of deep wisdom and so very much more.
     The reason Zechariah become mute at the words of the angel was not simply because he challenged the message, rather Zechariah had forgotten what God can and will do.  We suffer a form of amnesia as well.  We forgot or ignore the varied and rich expectations of this time of waiting, and thus not fully understand why we are celebrating when Christmas finally does come.
     Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and amazing things came out of his mouth.  Here Zechariah remembers Israel's past and the God who made it possible.  He connects what is happening with what has already happened and therefore states with what will happen -- in order to maintain the ancient covenant, you are my people and I am who I am, and this newborn son, John, will go before the Lord to prepare his way thus fulfilling God's ancient promise. 
     Zechariah remembered that God promised redemption -- rescue from all the enemies, all the fears, all the dark and deadly realities of life, using the “horn of salvation.”  Zechariah remembered that God promised a fresh beginning, a new dawn.  Zechariah remembered that God promised to show his people the path to perfect peace, and so much more.
     Where are our minds, hearts and prayers this advent as we await the birth of the anointed one, Jesus?  What have we forgotten?  What do we not understand? How are our hearts closed to this grand highway coming in Jesus Christ? Amen.

1 Illustration from www.homiletics.com
2 http://castlelyons7.blogspot.com/2008/09/christ-unicorn.html www.wickedwinks.com/uni/ul.html and www.weird-encyclopedia.com/unicorns.php
3 Exodus 19:3; Joshua 6:4;
4 Exodus 29:12; 30:10, et al;
5 1 Samuel 16:13, 1 Kings 1:50; 2:28, Daniel 7:24
6 2 Samuel 22: 2-3
7 From a 12th-century Latin bestiary, tr. T. H. White www.wwnorton.com/college/english/nael/NOA/pdf/27636_17th_U46_Unicorn-1-5.pdf
8 vs. 70

December 14, 2008

John 1: 19-28

     What would this season of Advent be without a story?  I am not talking about the story of the birth of Jesus, but of another; A Christmas Carol in Prose, Being a Ghost Story of Christmas.  That story, written by the British author, Charles Dickens, commonly known as A Christmas Carol, has become for many people as much about Advent and Christmas, possibly even more so, than say John the Baptist, himself.
     Why has that British Victorian tale about social injustice and poverty become so much part of this season as we prepare for Christmas?  Why did a story of a miserly old man, Ebenezer Scrooge, visited by three spirits, past, present and future, on the night before Christmas, who then changes his life, and reverts to the generous, kind-hearted soul of his youth, become so much part of this Advent season?  Much has been written and discussed on that very question, but for me, the story brings to the forefront what many people associate with this time as we prepare for the arrival of Jesus, the sentiment of sharing and seasonal good will to all.
     From a Christian point of view, the themes of injustice and economic hardship addressed in A Christmas Carol, are vital topics and worthy of remembrance every day, not just during the holiday season.  However, although those issues are imperative, it is hardly the only ones surrounding the good news of the impending arrival of Jesus Christ.  Instead, another of Charles Dickens books may bring us closer to some of the reality of this season.  This other tale, also about poverty and wealth, if we think about it as Christians, has Advent and Christmas written all over it and can even been seen in its title, Great Expectations.
     To review, this novel is about an orphan boy, Pip living in the humble dwelling of his kindly brother-in-law and cruel much older sister.  He had no other expectations than to work in his brother-in-law’s blacksmith shop.  Then suddenly Pip began to receive a substantial monthly income from an unknown source, administered by a famous London lawyer.  This vaulted him into the upper class, which brought many changes … many subtle.  First, Pip moved to London where he began a “proper” education to be a gentleman.  As the income continued, this young man had increasing levels of expectation with this wealth including in the realm of romance.  As this novel nears its end, however, there are several turns of events, including that the income stops.  As a result, Pip’s expectations in wealth, relationships and romance though at one point lofty, were not fulfilled.  Instead there came an outcome he had not expected.
     That story, in my opinion, says more about the season leading up to Christmas than the themes of found in a Christmas Carol.  The reason is that Great Expectations revolves around the difference between expectation and hope.
     Let’s turn to our gospel.  In our Gospel, we get a different portrayal of John the Baptist than we had last week in the gospel of Mark. Mark’s gospel begins at a near frantic pace, with John the Baptist.  There are no introductions, but instead we are catapulted into preparation for the pending arrival of change.  Today, however, in John, the pace is not frantic, but more measured in anticipating the “Christ” which is the Greek word for the Hebrew title of “Messiah.”
     And when John the Baptist appears in the gospel of John it begins with probing questions of a few representatives sent to investigate this man.  Voicing the questions of many, these representatives ask “‘Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’”1  Why did these questions need to be asked?  Because seemingly, people’s expectations were high that either John the Baptist was the Messiah, the Christ or was the promised messenger of the Day of the Lord that was to come with the Messiah. 
     John the Baptist answers “no” to the queries and in a similar way as he does in Mark, ends the first round of questions in part by using the words of the prophet Isaiah from hundreds of years before, "I am the voice of one calling in the desert, 'Make straight the way for the Lord.' "
 But it does not stop there.  You will notice at this point in the Gospel, that John the Baptist is questioned by a new group, Pharisees who doubt John’s authority to baptize if he is not the Messiah, the Christ.  John the Baptist answers their question by distinguishing baptism by water without Spirit, but then suddenly points out that the one who can, is present … now.   
     This exchange between John the Baptist and those around him leads me to wonder: What is the difference between expectation and hope?  In our gospel we see how John the Baptist is confronted by the expectations of who he was by those around him.  Instead, John answers with a word of hope, "I baptize with water," John replied, "but among you stands one you do not know.  He is the one who comes after me, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie."2   
     There is a difference between expectation and hope.  In my mind, expectation is what is considered the most likely to happen.  An expectation is a belief that is centered on the future, and may or may not be realistic.  John the Baptist was believed to come as the messiah because in some ways that fulfilled the expectation of what was to happen.
     Hope, on the other hand, is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life.  Hope implies a certain amount of perseverance, believing that a positive outcome is possible even when there is some evidence to the contrary.  For example, there is a difference between, “I expect someone to come to a party” versus “I hope someone can come to a party.”  In our lesson John the Baptist although denying people’s expectations, pronouncing that among you “one stands.” 
     I believe there is another important distinction between expectations and hope.  Expectations are specific.? If you don’t get what you expect, you can be mad, disappointed, hurt, resentful, and so on.? Expectations are well defined.? Expectations involve maintaining control over your life, and often the lives around you.  I also think that typically expectations are rarely communicated and thus are rarely met.  In Charles Dickens novel, Great Expectations, the central character expected that wealth would result in a better life which included winning the love of a woman.  Throughout the novel, these and other “expectations” are shown to be at times misguided or simply wrong.
     Hope, on the other hand, is not specific.  It is an outlook on life, looking forward, but not defining exactly how this future will come about.? Hope is choosing to believe that God is in control.? Hope is letting go.
     For example, someone may hope to marry someday. ?The alternative is to expect a marriage and would be to specify to whom, when, how, and where this marriage would occur.? And if it doesn’t happen exactly how one planned, then one can be crushed and angry.  Expectations don’t give much grace or wiggle room.? Hope does.
     What does that distinction played out in our gospel with John the Baptist mean in our lives?  In the movie Monty Python’s Life of Brian, we see that distinction between expectations and (I believe) hope played out to funny but ironic ends.  In the movie, Brian of Nazareth is mistaken for a savior sometimes by accident and other times by innocent mistakes; he matches people expectations of what a savior is like.  The directors of the movie even play with the expectations of the movie goers.  The irony is that while this is happening, the real savior, Jesus lives and dies right beside him even on the cross.
     Like John the Baptist I believe put so well, we are to decrease as God through Jesus Christ increases in our lives.  We are to move away from our expectations of life, not only wealth but in all aspects including death and allow God’s vision to enter our lives.  The question we need to ponder is not so much how not to be like Ebenezer Scrooge but rather, instead to learn like Pip, that life with hope begins after we let go of all our "great expectations."  Amen.

1 Vs. 22
2 Vs. 26-27

December 7, 2008

Mark 1: 1-8

        Have you ever heard the saying, “You can choose your friends but not your relatives?”  That quote is a twist from the words of the original author, Jacque Delille, a 17th century French poet who wrote, “Fate chooses your relations, we choose our friends.”1
         Well, it is not known whether that saying has older roots, so we have no way of knowing if it was ever said about Jesus and his cousin John the Baptist.  As we notice today, Mark introduces John at the beginning of his Gospel.  Yet, Mark brings John out of nowhere, assuming that the hearer or reader already knows who this guy in the wilderness is or suggesting that his dress and diet speak for themselves -- leather girdle ? clothing made from camel's hair ? ate locusts and wild honey.
         Not only that, Mark quickly points out, John’s words seem to imply a man who does not care about his social skills or diplomacy, like a prophet of old, as he launches a message, quoting from Isaiah, the voice of one crying in the wilderness, repent and be baptized.
         So, if all we had was Mark to go on, we can easily forget that John the Baptist was probably the product of good nurture.  His parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth were both of priestly lineages, especially his mother who could directly trace her roots to one of the first priests, Aaron.  They were elderly at John’s birth, yet Elizabeth and Zechariah however long they lived, raised him fully in the Jewish faith.  The Gospel of Luke says this about the early years of John the Baptist, “And the child grew and became strong in spirit; and he lived in the desert until he appeared publicly to Israel.”2
         Mark however, does not provide that information.  And there is the matter about Jesus.  Although this lesson begins with Jesus, he does not reappear until verse 9, and then as an adult at the point of baptism, which is not in this week’s reading at all.  Instead the pace is quick, nearly frantic!
         Why?  Why doesn’t Mark spend anytime on introductions on either John the Baptist or on Jesus?  Why not give us at least a semblance of an introduction.  Why not some character development?  Mark spends very little time on these two for a reason, for the emphasis in these early words is getting people prepared!  There is no genealogy of Jesus to show his Old Testament background as we find in beginning of Matthew, no historical outline to narrate God’s righteousness at work as we find in the beginning of Luke and certainly no discourse on Jesus’ relationship to God as we find in the beginning of John.
         As I mentioned, we know from the other gospels that John the Baptist was a man connected to the past.  John was acquainted with the prophecies of the past, he knew his place in the present as he pointed and prepared for the One who would be the future.  We do get the sense in Mark that this orientation struck a responsive chord among people at that time.  The crowds came ? and followers of John grew, but later we see in Mark that immediately when Jesus begins to preach, John withdraws to the wings -- the spotlight shifts: "He must increase -- I must decrease."
         In Mark, there is not one trace of jealousy, one ounce of envy.  John knew his place; he was not the way -- he would prepare the way.  Today’s introduction by Mark of John the Baptist was loud and clear; repent, change and prepare for the future.
         In many ways John the Baptist and Jesus were opposites.  But if you remember neither was one acceptable to those only interested in maintaining the status quo.  Jesus later pointed out, “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, 'He has a demon.' The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and "sinners."3
         Mark begins with John the Baptist for a purpose.  It will not be back to the future.  It will not be more of the same.  It will not be business as usual.  The old will give way to the new.  Isaiah said it this way: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”4
         What does all this mean for us?  In 1863 the Commissioner of Patents in the United States sent his resignation to President Abraham Lincoln citing his conviction that everything exciting had been invented and patented, and there was nothing else for him to do but preserve the past.  And as he was not trained as a museum curator, he needed to resign.  We may laugh but we may live in the same way.  Today’s gospel on the other hand, is all about the future.
         How have we become the same as that resigned Commissioner on Patents by way of our assumptions, opinions, thoughts and ideas as followers of Jesus Christ?  There is a great deal of longing today in that the way ahead lies in the way back and that the glory days are always in the past.  I do not have to remind you that we live in a world of accelerated change.  Yesterday we had a job, today we do not.  Yesterday we had health, today we do not.  Yesterday we had a retirement planned, today we do not.  We long for the past rather than repent and prepare for the future.
         When Jacque Delille wrote that line, “Fate chooses your relations, we choose our friends” it was from a poem about change.  John the Baptist was a cousin of Jesus but it did not matter.  Jesus was born in a stable to a poor family; it did not matter.  What matters is that there is a new heaven and new earth and it is coming.  What matters is that change is upon us and more is on its way.  God not only came, but God comes!  The meaning of Advent is opening our selves anew to make room for God in our lives now.  
         An old man lived in the center of a desolate and hopeless city.  The man walked outside of his house and onto the streets and yelled, “Love, peace, righteousness!”  The next day he would do the same thing ? he would leave his house, walk onto the street and yell at the top of his lungs, “Love, peace, righteousness!”  He would do this every day, rain or shine, like clockwork.
         One day the man’s next-door neighbor, who was tired of the daily yelling, went out on the street and confronted him.  He said, “Hey man, are you crazy?  What do you think you are doing?  Every day you come out of your house and yell ‘love, peace, righteousness!’  Fool, don’t you know nobody is listening to you?  This city is full of hate and crime and hopelessness, there is no love of neighbor and there is no peace and righteousness to be found, so give it a rest and save your breath!  Don’t you know that you can’t change the world?”
         The old man said, “You are right, my yelling and shouting about ‘love, peace and righteousness’ may not change the world, but one thing it will do is to stop the world from changing me.”
         Let us not be nostalgic for the past, what we have inherited, for the world that is ours. Rather let us chose to prepare for the future, for what is coming, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

1 http://quotationsbook.com/quote/16034/
2 Luke 1:80
3 Matthew 11:18-19
4 Isaiah 43: 18-19

November 30, 2008

Thanksgiving Sermon; Our English Worship group, Meito Christ International Church celebrated a Worship of Thanksgiving and had a joyous potluck after worship.  We used the lessons assigned for the US Thanksgiving holiday from the US Revised Common Lectionary 

Luke 17: 11-19

　　　We thank you God.  It’s that simple.  Yet for some reason as you and I bustle through busy and complicated lives, it’s not always that simple.  Our Gospel reading is an example.  Ten were healed.  Yet we only hear of the gratitude of the one, who turned back praising God with a loud voice, and fell at the feet of Jesus to give thanks.
　　　The story is further enhanced by the information that the only one who returned and gave thanks, is a Samaritan --- a dreaded foreigner --- and for that reason --- at that time --- a far more unusual person than we understand, for teaching the posture of thanksgiving.
　　　Not only is there that fact, but the lesson revolves around three questions that Jesus asks after this Samaritan returns.  These three questions not only seem rhetorical in nature but judgmental in tone and meaning.  “Jesus asked, ‘Were not all ten cleansed?  Where are the other nine?  Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’”1
　　　Can you hear frustration, possibly even anger, in these questions?  "I show them mercy and heal them of their disease but they can not even be bothered to praise God and be thankful."  Maybe because I am a parent is the reason I hear the frustration!
　　　Whoa!  But wait a second; is that Jesus or us assuming the anger, judgment and frustration at the lack of thanks?  Notice that Jesus does not curse the nine.  Instead look again at the questions.  Did you notice, “Was no one found…”  That is a very odd phrase unless all the 10 were considered … lost.  It is though Jesus is just wondering where they are.  So, if Jesus’ questions are neither rhetorical nor judgmental, what could he possibly mean?
　　　The first thought that comes to my mind is remembering that Jesus is the one who has told parables and stories about searching at all costs like for example, the lost sheep, the lost coin… the lost son.  Thus, the question from Jesus may be similar to a comment from a parent who just before had seen their child only to see them run off again.
　　　If that is the case, does that also mean that instead of an image of a God healing people and giving blessings and then standing around just waiting for us to say thank you, and then gets angry and have his feelings hurt if we do not …. may not be completely right?
　　　This leads me to my second thought.  When Jesus asks the question, Jesus knows that God knows.  God knows where they are.  God always knows these things about us; knows things large and small, dark and light, sure and unsure.   And as Christians we hold that Jesus Christ is the promised messiah, so that means that Jesus also knew where they were.  The question therefore is almost wistful, for all sought mercy, all were found, all where healed, but only one had faith.   
　　　Have you ever wondered why some see and others do not?  Do you understand my question?  I don’t know the answer completely, but what I do know is that being granted eyes of faith that see things differently is perhaps the most mysterious of all God’s gifts.  It is a gift we neither deserve nor understand.  But it is a gift that invokes, elicits, even demands, a response.  Not because it is the proper thing we ought to do, but because, in the face of it we can do nothing else.
　　　It is faith that drove that one healed leper to return.  He simply “had” to.  Like in many of Jesus’ parables this leper is like the one who found the lost the coin, the lost treasure, the lost son, the lost sheep, the one filled with joy.  
     I can imagine that when Jesus asked his questions his eyes were scanning the horizon, eager to catch a glimpse of the other nine, now healed.  Then Jesus looks down at the one at his feet.  And though the Bible doesn’t say so, I can imagine that there is a wistful, anything-but-simple smile on his face.  "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."
     And just maybe, this one healed leper, when he left Jesus, came upon some of the nine along the way and who knows what might have happened?  Yes, all were found and healed but what made this one foreigner whole was his faith.  
     Ten asked for mercy.  Ten responded to Jesus’ call to go.  Ten were healed along the way.  That by itself is great news.  Thanksgiving is like that in this case the United States, just one nation among many with a harvest festival, but for various historical reasons has a national day of thanksgiving.  For some it is simply that a Fall festival and for many others a reminder to turn to God.
     Here are we.  Why do we have faith enough, small and fragile though it may be, to find our way to take some time to express gratitude when so many others do not?  It is not because of anything we have or know or are.  And it does not mean that everyone else is not grateful for the blessings they have received.  Rather, somehow, in some awe-inspiring, maddeningly temporary, utterly inexplicable way, we, now and again, on and off, beyond our ability to choose or decide, have been enabled to see, for a moment, the one who has found us, healed and sent us on our way, the power of God to save.  Faith has made us whole.
     What response is there!  Only but one turn around and fall on bended knee and rejoice.  We thank you God.  Amen.
1 vs. 17-18

November 23, 2008

1 Thessalonians 5: 1-11    

As many of us are aware, Japan is known as a famously sleep deprived nation.  First time newcomers to Japan are often startled by the work patterns of many.  Be at work by 8:00 stay until 8:00, or until the boss leaves, then have a drink or two at a local bar, arrive home by 10:00 or 11:00 and turn around and go back to work the next day.  This pattern is not just the ubiquitous Japanese salary man but includes spouses who wake up before everyone and are the last to go to sleep.  That pattern is followed by children who not only attend regular school, cram school and after-school clubs but then have homework.  No wonder a response to the question, “What are you going to do Sunday,” is at times answered with “Sleep.”   
     In a 2006 survey and report the conclusion was that the Japanese economy loses nearly 40 billion dollars in lost productivity due to sleep deprivation.  As we have experienced, many Japanese spend long hours at work, but are not necessarily working.  As professor of Psychology and Mental Health at Nihon University, Makoto Uchiyama, and author of the report said, “Many people think that if you sleep less you will have more time to work (and be more productive) but that is a total misconception.”1
     According to the 2006 survey of Japanese workers, the average number of hours of sleep was a little over 7 hours where the average adult needs 8 hours of sleep for healthy bodies and minds.  What I found interesting was that some of that sleep counted by the survey respondents included --- nap time!  That is not a shock to many of us who have students whose heads are on their table or those of us who ride on a train or bus and the people around us have their eyes closed with their heads on their chests or on the person next to them.
     Whatever we may think about Japan and sleep, naps are healthy.  Recent studies in Britain have shown that taking a good 30-minute nap in the afternoon, at least three times a week can not only energize us for that late afternoon or evening meeting, but can also lower the risk of heart related death by 37 percent.2 
      The thing is, though, that there’s also a downside to napping that has everything to do with timing.  Napping in a train, subway or bus is one thing, but dozing off while driving down the road isn’t generally considered to be good for one’s health.  Nod off for just one second while traveling at 90 kmh for example, and you’ll travel about 26 meters without knowing it.  The US National Highway Traffic Safety Administration estimates that falling asleep at the wheel causes over 100,000 police reported crashes each year and 1,550 fatalities in the US.3
     Whatever you may think about sleep deprivation, the fact is as Christians, we may have sleepy spirits.  The apostle Paul seems to be giving a clinical essay on sleep and sleep deprivation in his first letter to the Thessalonians.  As we discussed last week “those who have fallen asleep” (koimaomai) is a common biblical metaphor and euphemism for death.  The resurrection then is the ultimate wake up call.  Daniel 12:2, for example, describes the day of resurrection like this: “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.”  Jesus himself referred to his dead friend Lazarus as having fallen asleep and told the crowd grieving over Jairus’ daughter that she wasn’t dead, “but sleeping.”4 
     In our lesson, Paul describes the day of Christ’s return and the general resurrection.  Paul writes that since we don’t know when that resurrection day is coming and how it will find us, and as I said last week, guessing is a waste of time, we are not to be drowsily careening through life unaware of what’s happening around us.
     Instead, we are to be awake and alert to the signs of Christ’s kingdom which will come with the stealth and suddenness of a “thief in the night.”5  The deep sleep of physical death is unavoidable, but being asleep at the wheel of our spiritual lives is avoidable. 
     Paul urges the Thessalonians, and by extension us, to stop dozing in the darkness of this world and, instead, become heads-up and eyes-open to the work of Jesus Christ, the resurrection life that God seeks to work in, with and through us in the present.  Last week we read, Paul encouraged the Thessalonians to be hopeful.  Today Paul adds that besides hope the church in Thessaloniki and by extension we are to be aware.
     The contrast between “darkness” and “light” is another common biblical image and Paul employs it here to make a statement about awareness.  “Night” represents unawareness, the condition of those who have no idea what is going on.  We know, for example, that most traffic accidents happen at night when visibility is low and fatigue more prevalent.  Paul seems to have recognized Japan in this lesson when he said that “For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk, get drunk at night.”6  Being spiritually drowsy and complacent in the midst of a culture whether it is Japan or anywhere else is as dangerous as driving our lives while drunk on the issues of this world.
     Obviously needing to take a nap on the train does not mean that our spiritual lives are asleep or sleepy but one has to wonder, what are the signs of spiritual sleepiness?  John Wesley, the Anglican priest, Christian theologian and founder of the Methodist movement once wrote that it is “that deep sleep of the soul” inherent in our nature.  It’s not so much the activity of sin itself as it is that “supineness, indolence and stupidity, that insensibility of real condition, wherein every man comes into the world, and continues until the voice of God awakens him.”  Wesley adds in his famous line that the he spiritual sleeper “abides in death, though he knows it not.”7
     If you are not up on Wesley speak, what he is saying is that Christian sleepiness is being clueless when we believe there is nothing wrong with our current condition or with the world around us.  I am not talking about the “clueless” of an Alicia Silverstone character in a movie by the same name.  Rather “clueless” Christians, sleepy sheep, view their lives and choices as being mere character faults, fate or just not knowing better, rather than as acts of disobedience to God.  Clueless Christians, Paul says, look at the problems in the world and turn the newspaper page or click back to go to the next web page with a yawn.  Spiritual sleep means being comfortable and content to leave our lives and the world unexamined and unimproved.
     Paul calls the Thessalonians to snap out of it ? to “keep awake” to the most important purpose of our lives that of God through Jesus Christ.
     How do you break out of that sleepiness?  Paul urges the Thessalonians to equip themselves so that they are focused and faithful.  Interestingly enough, Paul switches at this point, to be equipped using military metaphors; “breastplate of faith and love” and the “helmet” of “the hope of salvation.”8  Does that image work?  For some people it does, for others it does not.
     The point is that this equipment is to be always actively “on,” with the example of Jesus Christ, “who died for us, so that whether we are awake [in the present] or asleep [in death] we may live with him.”9  If military metaphors do not work for you, what does?  Slapping our faces has only a short-term effect.  So does simply shouting louder and complaining longer.
     For me the final line in our lesson is the most helpful, “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”10  The best way for me to be less sleepy in faith and life is to worship and be with you.  Thank you.  Amen.

1 “Sleep Deprivation and Deficiency,” Okawa, Masako & Uchiyama, Makoto, Hiro to Kyuyo no Kagaku. Vol. 15; No. 1, Pages 35-43.
2 Time for a wake-up call! “Afternoon nap is ‘good for the heart.’” BBC News Web Site, February 13, 2007. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/6354855.stm.
3 “The National Sleep Foundation’s State of the States Report on Drowsy Driving finds fatigued driving to be under-recognized and underreported.” Drowsydriving.org Web Site, November 5, 2007. www.drowsydriving.org/site/c.lqLPIROCKtF/b.3568679/
4 John 11:11-14 & Luke 8:49-56
5 1 Thessalonians 5:2
6 v. 7
7 Wesley, John. “Sermon III: Awake, thou that sleepest.” Wesley’s 52 Standard Sermons. Salem, Ohio: Schmul Publishing, 1988.
8 v. 8
9 v. 10
10 v.11