"Wishing Things Were Different"

Monday evening I was catching up on the news from Ferguson and thinking to myself that I would need to alter my sermon idea for Sunday. How could I not mention this civil war of sorts that continues to tear our country apart? What should I do?  I then remembered an advent passage I preached on a few years back from Isaiah 64. It begins, "O God, tear open the heavens and come down."  That's the scripture I should be using, I thought. That's it.  I remembered my theme from Charlie Brown Christmas where Lucy tells Charlie Brown what he really needs is involvement. I thought this seemed trite. What to do?

Then I looked up my scripture I had already chosen for this Sunday's message, weeks ago. Oh wow. Isaiah 64. The lectionary has circled back around to it again. And then I looked at my sermon title written about six weeks ago and my heart leapt and my mouth fell to the floor. "Wishing Things Were Different."  Who would know how perfectly that title would fit this moment in time? Who would know?  The Spirit knows; she always does.

The prophet Isaiah is crying out for a world in despair. He is asking God to please, please come and be with the people in their time of need. Please come, O God, tear open the heavens and get here now.  The mothers of people of color everywhere last night were likely crying a similar prayer.  I remember thinking last night how different I would feel about Jake living in NYC last night if we were a black family instead of a white one. As it was, I had the luxury of being pretty confident my own kid was safe and secure, though some of his friends' mothers could not have had the same thought.

I chose my December sermon series "Charlie Brown Christmas" because this is such a wonderful holiday classic everyone loves.  The forlorn Charlie Brown looking for an answer to what Christmas is really about. The overbearing Lucy telling him he needs involvement (which he does, actually). And then the prophetic voice of Linus who calls out from the darkness, bringing light... "Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior who is Christ the Lord."

We start this advent season as we always do. Waiting. Waiting for Christ to come and save us. This year, we start by wishing things were different.  We start by finding a way to be involved and work to tame the chaos that is surrounding us with the message from the Prince of Peace who brings good tidings of great joy.

It is hard to hear the cry of the needy when all we do is sing Deck the Halls and Jingle Bells. Perhaps we start by saying every day of Advent the words of the prophet Isaiah "O God, tear open the heavens and come down."  That serves to us as a reminder that we are not yet in the Promised Land. That serves to remind us that we are struggling to create a new way of being in this world. We are searching for a prophet to tell us what to do, but we need search no further than the yearnings of our own heart to follow the Way of Christ. Serving the lost, the least, the marginalized, the oppressed.  Not pretending that isms like racism are behind us, but recognizing that they are more alive, perhaps, than ever before.

Advent is a time of waiting for the arrival of peace.  Boy, do we ever need peace.  Advent is also a time of rising up to hear the call of the needy and offering to be the prophetic voice that tells the world we are capable of more.  We need involvement. The world needs us to step up and get involved. Perhaps there is no more critical moment to change the world than now.  When we find ourselves wishing things were different, time to hit the spotlight and cry out "Fear not..." and step forward.

Comments? Email me or comment below.

"Destination: Kingsland"

Matthew 25:31-46

This is Christ the King Sunday. The last Sunday of the church year. Next year is a new church year. This is like New Year's Eve in a way. A time to remember what we have gone through and Who we have been with as we have journeyed.  Jesus, our Christ, is today lauded as our King.

Perhaps you do not like the term King. Perhaps that becomes baggage for you. Perhaps you do not like to think of Jesus as a royal king with a scepter and a crown as some hymns portray him on this Sunday.  Perhaps you do not want to journey to our destination this week, which I am calling Kingsland.

And yet, this scripture reminds us so clearly of what it means to be a KING in Jesus terms.
Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,  I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.'


The world, the KINGdom, that Jesus ushers in is a kingdom where the hungry are fed, the thirsty are refreshed, the strangers are welcomed, the naked are clothed, the sick are cared for and the imprisoned are visited. That is the KINGdom that Jesus brings. Not a world where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, but a world where everyone is loved and appreciated.

Our statement of welcome posted on the church website and on our community bulletin board reads:
Niwot United Methodist Church welcomes and honors everyone without regard to sexual orientation, race, nationality, gender, family structure, ethnic background, economic circumstances, difference in ability, culture or age. You are actively invited to visit, fully participate in, and join our Christian community.

Knowing this about ourselves, we should actively participate in living into these words, which are echoed also in Matthew's words to us this week in Chapter 25.  We are, of course, not supposed to sit on the sidelines and wait for Jesus to create the Kingdom of God. We are not supposed to sit on the sidelines and wait for the church staff to create, along with Jesus, the Kingdom of God. We are, as people who call ourselves Christians, supposed to be ushering in the Kingdom of God along with Jesus here and now... just as we claim to do in our website welcome.

You see, Christ the King Sunday is a day to honor the radical nature of being Christ the King. A king who washes the feet of his friends, a king who touches the unclean, a king who welcomes and embraces those the world does not.

This Sunday, let us remember that radical leadership and radical embracing and welcoming that Jesus teaches us. And may we move into the next year fully ready to be just that radical in our sharing of God's love.   That is how we reach our Destination: Kingsland.  That is how we move into the neighborhood of God. Kingsland is on our doorstep.  Let us fling wide the doors and find it.

We will glorify the King of Kings, we will glorify the Lamb; we will glorify the Lord of Lords who is the great I AM. Hallelujah to the King of Kings, hallelujah to the Lamb; hallelujah to the Lord of Lords, who is the great I AM. 

He has made me glad, he has made me glad. I will rejoice for He has made me glad.

Questions? Comments? Email me or comment below.

"Checkpoint: Chief Niwot's Legacy"

This Sunday we are privileged and honored to welcome author Margaret Coel to our service. Last year we encouraged the congregation to read Chief Left Hand, Margaret Coel's account of the life of Chief Niwot (Left Hand), including his death at Sand Creek.  I encourage you to be here this Sunday as we commemorate this tragic history and remember and honor our namesake, Chief Niwot.  Take a look at the link to learn more about Margaret Coel.

We will also have offering envelopes in the bulletin for Native American Ministries Sunday. The proceeds from that offering go to fund scholarships for Native American students and also 75 percent of the funding stays within our conference to fund Native American Awareness projects here at home.


Stay warm and see you Sunday.

Baggage Claim: Sand Creek

The second installment in this November series of Baggage and Checkpoints is "Baggage Claim: Sand Creek."  When you're on a trip and you deplane and head to wait at the baggage claim, of course, your strongest desire is that you see your bags come across the conveyer belt and head your way. And when they don't, your heart just sinks. It's happened to some of us and you know that sinking feeling.

But, when it comes to the baggage that we carry around with us, either personally or communally, we sometimes would rather we didn't see or feel or think about our baggage at all. And yet, it does come around on the conveyer belt called 'life' or 'history' or 'repentance' or whatever you want to call it... and we are forced to see it on the conveyer in front of us seeking to be claimed and owned. And it is in the claiming and owning of the baggage of our collective past we can find the freedom that Jesus walks the path of and Paul expounds on that is called justification by faith... right living... the path toward God rather than away from God, even when it's hard.  So,  today, we re-examine a topic I first preached about a year and a half ago on Native American Awareness Sunday.  The Methodist ties to the Sand Creek Massacre.

Click HERE for that blogpost that will once again be the sermon preached this Sunday.

Thoughts? Comments? Email me or comment below.