St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church
Albuquerque New Mexico
Sunday January 30, 2011 Annual Meeting
Text: Matthew 5: 1-12 The Beatitudes
Title: Blessed to be a blessing.

Our Gospel reading today is the beginning of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, a packed collection of teaching that Matthew glued together in his gospel. The faith traditions call this portion of scripture  the “little gospel” because they believe it contains the core of the biblical message.  This core teaching has much to do with our identity as followers of Jesus and as members of St. Michael’s on this annual meeting Sunday.

Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed, Blessed, Blessed what does this odd word mean. The truth is that the Greek word makarioi, the first word of all the beatitudes is hard to translate. The Latin word “beatus” means blessed but it doesn’t really capture the meaning very well. It means something more like: Happy are the poor in the Spirit, or Wonderful News for the poor in spirit, or Lucky are the poor in spirit, or congratulations to the poor in spirit.

The beatitudes describe in word pictures the kind of people who are in-tune with the kingdom of God, they tell us of the characteristics you will find in the midst of a community that not only calls itself Christian but has chosen to live that way of life.

Why are the poor in spirit blessed? Because rich or poor they know their own deep need of God in all things.

Why are those who mourn promised comfort? Because in this beatitude Jesus assures the mourners and seekers after justice that God is not asleep. The devastations wrought by human avarice and thirst for power will be remedied.

Happy are the Meek? Probably one of the most misunderstood words in the Bible: meek is not a synonym for week it simple means power under control, or even more provocatively appropriate anger. The meek are the ones best suited to inherit the earth for they have respect for their own power to damage and destroy such a beautiful creation and appropriate anger for toward those who use power without reflection and discipline for their own selfish gains.

The Beatitudes are rich fields for reflection and one sermon is not enough to plumb their depths.

Being Poor in spirit, mourning for justice, practicing meekness, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, being merciful, cultivating purity in heart, pursuing peace, being willing to take heat for being a friend of Jesus: these are the God-graced characteristics of those who have thrown in their lot with Jesus. These are not things we gut and grind out they are ways of life that arise out of our love for God and in the sure knowledge that this is how the kingdom of God takes actual shape in our midst.

In the Sermon on the Mount we learn that those who have found their lives in the midst of this blessedness are salt of the earth. They preserve life and like salt in our food bring out the true flavor and delicious taste that is sometimes hidden just in front of us. We Christians are meant to preserve and flavor the world.

A current television ad for an entertainment package shows scenes of a darkened city full of chaos and mayhem. People are being assaulted, police cars are fire-bombed, banks are being robbed, women run screaming and danger surrounds everyone. The scene changes to a plush apartment in which a masked and caped superhero sits on the couch eating snacks and watching movies. His emergency phone is ringing of the hook for help but he does not bother to answer it so enthralled is he with all of his movie and programming options. The commercial advertising the entertainment package cuts in with the words, “You’re going to be busy, super busy.”  

I admit it is a good commercial but a dark one. The commercial reminded me of a teacher I once had who painted a visual picture of what the world might be like if there were no people of faith in the world. He spoke of the preserving and savory influences of people of faith and life-giving values that were so essential to a world with any hope for mercy, justice, peace, forgiveness, healing, caring for the most vulnerable. He asked what if Christians hadn’t started hospitals, orphanages and advocated for child labor laws, worked to end slavery, cared or abandoned children, established the Red Cross, began compassion international, started habitat for humanity and so much more? What if there were no food pantries or no days schools?

It really is a sobering thought. Sometimes we are so busy, super busy recounting the ways that religion and faith has made the world an awful place, how religious convictions unconnected to love and compassion have brutalized entire groups of people and cultures and led to atrocities on scales we’d rather not remember. And I don’t intend to minimize or discount the truth and sadness of this history.

However, at the same time, I want to propose that the beatitudes exist in our defining story to call us into our own best selves as followers of Jesus. They intend to woo us into a life caught up in the ways of God so that we do indeed preserve and flavor the world in delicious ways. The world doesn’t just need more Christians, it needs better Christians, deeper Christians.

For me this is why it is important to live in and support a faith community like St. Michael’s. I am inspired, stirred by the Spirit in this place and through each of you, when I experience how you as parents care for and nurture your children, how aging spouses take care of one another, how partners care for each other and help them grow spiritually, how friends support each other through joyful and difficult times.  Participating in worship on Sunday morning is not an optional activity for many who have discovered that their life-energy is fed and renewed and focused in a God-ward direction in this place. What a gift it is to have the wisdom of generations in our midst of those who have been walking in faith or many years. What an incredible privilege it is to have other adults caring for and mentoring my children and yours.

When I look around this parish and consider all that has taken place this last year I am grateful for the preserving influence of this community and the flavor that it brings to the city of Albuquerque and to this Diocese.  I think we need to remember that St. Michael’s is a strategic parish in the Diocese of the Rio Grande. This past year we elected a new bishop Michael Vono, who is, quite frankly, a breath of fresh air. Bisho. Vono has opening praised the vitality and vision of St. Michael’s calling us a model parish. Here we might want to puff out our chest and strut around a bit. But, I say that not to brag but rather to remind us that we have a responsibility as St. Michael’s to do our best to maintain and nurture the vitality and health so many have come to depend upon in their own spiritual journeys. We are a unique witness to a radically welcoming form Christianity and we are called to share it with others around us, but we cannot continue to do that without adequate resources and we need your help.

In difficult financial times this congregation continues to move forward in faith. Some may say that we just held our own this past year, but we have done much better than that. In fearful times we have built a much needed New Ministry Complex with offices and classrooms and space for ministry and believe me we are using this space in many new ways. It is no small task but as a whole community with God’s grace and a great deal of generosity we will pay off our mortgage on the new building as we expand our ministries and grow into a larger influence in our neighborhood and city, but we need your help to accomplish this and you will here more at our annual meeting which follows.

This past year we lovingly sent Fr. Brian off on a well-deserved sabbatical to be refreshed and stimulated. And this coming June we will welcome him back, myself especially, with fresh ideas and new energy for ministry in this place.

This past year we gave up bad coffee for Lent and we never looked back. I had to laugh as the other day I was trying to explain to my 8 year old son about groups that went door to door evangelizing. He was puzzled by it and said, “I don’t get it you don’t have to do that, you just make really good coffee and the people just come in.” Ah, a child after my own heart, java powered mission.

Quietly a group of very dedicated and patient people have been ReImagining St. Michael’s and I am simply amazed at the initiatives that these leaders have chosen to invest themselves in: ministry to and with our Seniors, pastoral care for the GLBT community in the Diocese of the Rio Grande, Language Learning and Community building in our neighborhood through a new Spanish and English language initiative called Voces, all of which you will be hearing more about at our annual meeting.  When I see the fruit of the ReImagine process over the past 12 months I am blessed, super blessed by our parish and the leadership that has and continues to emerge. St. Michael’s is blessed. And the truth is that we are blessed to be a blessing to others.

St. Michael’s represents a different kind of Christianity for many in our city that is much needed. It is not the hard-edged, brittle, judgmental Christianity that so many of us have escaped or are recovering from. It is a Christianity that has a deep reservoir of grace at its center. One that believes that God continues to reveal a faithful way that draws ever larger circles to include one another.

I’m reminded of the words of a rhyme:

They drew a circle that shut me out—
Heretic, rebel, something to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took them in.

Progressive Christianity means a lot of things to those who call St. Michael’s home. It means that you don’t have to check your brain at the door of the church. It means that the questions are as important as the answers. It means that you can belong while you are figuring out what it means to believe. It means that all who present themselves at our door are to be welcomed in the name of Christ. It means that we will not rest as a church until our GLBT brothers and sisters have the same rights and protections that all human beings should enjoy. It means that in the face of continued violence around the world and in our own country against GLBT people we will stand with our church and our new bishop in striving for justice and peace among all people and respect for the dignity of every human being.  We will work together prophetically to see that there are rites approved for blessing same sex unions and that the process to ordination is indeed open to openly gay members of our faith.

It means we believe that the life-changing way and teaching of Jesus is a lively word for us today, a word we believe our world needs now more than ever. A word of hope instead of despair, a word of forgiveness instead of hate, a word of building community rather than taking sides, a word that compels us to protect and serve the most vulnerable in our midst, a lively word that gives us the motivation and energy to be Christ-like in a world that has nearly forgotten what it means to be civil and respectful let alone loving and compassionate.

St. Michael’s is a gift in so many ways for so many people. We are a gift to families who desire that their children to grow up around the diversity and joy of a place like this. We are a gift to parents who want their children to have the spiritual grounding and faithful story of God’s ways deeply planted in their heart so that they know a more excellent way to live than the cutthroat competition and rampant consumerism that surrounds us on every side.

We are a gift to every working person who comes into this place on a Sunday morning to discover anew the source of their life energy that they depend on each and every day. Our open and nurturing Eucharistic table, the heart stirring words of our liturgy and preaching, the powerful music and healing silence are all part of nurturing the life energy within each of us in the power of God’s Spirit so that we can do our best to do good work in the world, to be loving and patience and attentive parents, to be sensitive and sacrificing lovers, to be supportive and pastoral friends.

What do we want the city of Albuquerque to say about us in the years to come? That we had impeccable taste, took care of ourselves and knew how to use our dessert forks? Or that as faith community we really loved and that it is obvious in the way we have reached out to our neighborhood and our city as the compassionate people God has called us to be?

Blessed are you, not when you play it safe and pretend you are sacrificing when it really is all quite easy for you. Blessed are you St. Michael’s when you have a different kind of Christianity to offer the world, your neighbors, your co-workers, and your family. A Christianity that keeps loving, keeps giving, keeps forgiving, keeps praying, keeps risking, keeps seeking God’s face, keeps drawing the circle bigger, keeps enlarging your heart, so that the kingdom does indeed draw near, in our very midst.

St. Michael’s is blessed to be a blessing in this neighborhood and in this city and in this very place. Blessed, Happy, Lucky, Congratulations, Wonderful News, St. Michael’s when we continue to grow into the compassionate, influential, and risk-taking church that God is calling us to be. I ask of you three things this year: Give generously of yourself to the life and ministry of this place. Your life-energy is needed to make St. Michael’s what it is called to be so get involved in some way. Give generously of your finances so that St. Michael’s can continue to be a salty place: preserving and flavoring the Christian life of this city. We do not yet have the resources we need to operate for the coming year and we truly do need your help. And finally, remember to pray for the ministry and life of this parish as it will tune your heart and open you to God’s Spirit at work here in this place. You’re going to be busy St. Michael’s, blessedly busy, for there is much loving and forgiving and working for justice and caring for the vulnerable and supporting one another to do. Blessed are you St. Michael’s. Blessed to be a blessing.

One of my favorite childhood memories was of my father shaving.  I would jump on the counter, lean against him and watch in fascination as the razor glided down his face.  I would pretend to shave; however, the reason for jumping on that counter next to him was that I enjoyed seeing the reflection of us together.  I was so in love with my father, I wanted to do everything like him.  I wanted to walk like him, act like him, and talk like him. I wanted to be him.

I wonder if Peter, Andrew, James and John felt the same way in Jesus’ presence.  What compelled them to drop everything - nets, lives, families and follow him.  Was it his eyes, his presence, or the way he gently said “follow me”  It spoke to something deeper, that made them want to jump up on that counter next to him, and see their reflection next to his.  

Maybe it was the way he gently extended his hand to people used to being slapped.  How he touched when others recoiled, embraced when others pushed away.   The way he never missed a chance to forgive.  His behavior was so unusual, so life altering, that they could not believe he was calling them.   

An author wrote these men were haunted and hounded day-in and day-out by His beauty, a beauty ever-ancient, ever-new.  They fell in love with his love, they were touched by a love that transcends time.  And they said yes.  Come follow me? Imagine that question directed at you, with all its implications.

 I have been deeply thinking of the call of Jesus and I asked “what does it mean to be a Christian?”  Do we walk like him, act like him, and talk like him?   Do we follow him?
We watched in horror at the tragedy in Tucson.   The depths of sadness for lives lost and those irrevocably changed.  Yet, despite the pain, there is an underlying prodding encouraging more hatred.  The press reminds us of gun targets over the face of the congresswomen, the tension rises.

Political operatives on both sides point the accusatory finger at one another.  This is your fault!  Politicians invoke the Lord’s name within the context of a political speech, yet nothing seems to change.  I think of the face of that young child, her innocence, dreams, now a family’s pain, and the realization the one who pulled the trigger, was at one time a child with dreams that somehow lost all hope.   

Saturday night, the television a broadcast of Saving Private Ryan.  Images of Omaha Beach - despair, blood and death.  A dying 18 years old cries for his mother.   The realization that German and American alike was once someone’s child and now they sit on a cold cliff, afraid, wishing they were somewhere else.   Praying to the same God, asking for the same hope, safety, the same peace. What at one time seemed entertainment or history begins to affect me physically.  I became tense and angry, I cannot watch.

And then Monday, the life of a young man who spoke of God, justice, love and peace.  Black and white images of people working together to bring about the Promised Land.  I have a dream followed by the image of young preacher sprawled on a hotel balcony, a bloody towel held to his forehead.  TV silence and then a commercial of Kobe Bryant and a young girl holding guns, interactively shooting an unknown enemy, promoting a video game where the objective is the more kill as many people as possible.

Harmless games, politicians attacking one another, children and senior programs being cut to save political face, families torn apart because of an invisible border.  You want to scream “where are you Jesus” The question is far too easy.  The difficult question should be, “where are the Christians?”  I know you are around, There are 30 channels are devoted to salvation and preachers.  I can drive by Churches and see parking lots full.  My inbox is loaded with messages testing my faith if only I will forward this message.  

What is our call?  Those simple, uneducated men dropped their nets and followed Jesus because they knew he was the light in a dark world.  Maybe they could be different, that maybe they could make a difference in the world.  Those smelly nets they held in their hands not only represented their profession, the nets represented their lives, doubts about God, insecurities, prejudices, hatred, a narrow view of the world.  Yet, when Jesus said, follow me, they dropped them.  

Andrew, Peter, John and James realized that in Jesus, the rotting old way was not good enough. They were now willing to break the rules, cross the lines, they found a truth that lives, moves and breathes, a truth that they could believe in.  They were swept off their feet crazy in love with this man. The dropped their nets and answered him.

Jesus did not say “worship me” he said “follow me.”  Because he knew that if they followed him they would understand that everyone was welcome and loved.  Age made no difference; young and old were healed.  The poor mattered equally as the rich.  How he touched the Roman Centurion, and those who hated the Romans.  No one was a stranger in his presence.

They watched in amazement at how he gently embraced those with mental illness and held the lonely and hurting.  The tender way he pulled those who doubted him close to his heart.  Imagine their reaction when he cupped the face of the Prostitute in his hands and stroked the rotting legs of the leper.  

He was like no one else who ever walked the earth.  They wanted to lean against him and see their face, their reflection next to his.  They wanted to walk like him, act like him, talk like him, and they did.  And guess what, they changed the world.  I ask myself, what is my call?  I live in this world, I call myself a Christian.  

The words of Christ, his actions are so profound and transformative that we should fall in love with him daily.   We should be caught up and called out.  Like the words of the song Deeper and deeper, it was love that made me a believer.  In more than a name, a faith, a creed, falling in love with Jesus brought the change in me.

As Jesus walks in our world today, calling out, "follow me” his message has not changed and it is just as relevant in our fractured world today.  When we see our reflections next to his, and we act like him, those small actions in tiny spaces around us, heal a fractured world.  We accept that he welcomes Republicans, Democrats and Independents.  He loves Christian radicals and Muslim extremists, gang members, devout monks, drug addicts, and moralistic preachers.  And maybe, we begin to do the same thing.  

We stare in amazement at his love for the immigrant sneaking into the country in the dark of night, and the militia members who punctures their buckets of water.  How we wraps his arms around the alcoholic, the physical abuser and those who cower in their presence.  The way he loves you and me.    As a philosopher wrote, “Once you know Him, you cannot be cured of Him."    Knowing him, you understand the common love and bond that binds each of us together.  A love that knows no divisions, only similar faces reflected in the mirror.  And if we see each other, if we see Christ, we change the world.

In my 46 years, I have not stopped child abuse or hunger.  I have not convinced some followers of Christ that no one is excluded from God’s love or table.  I have a short temper and hold long grudges.   There is still homelessness, poverty, or hateful rhetoric.  
But I can easily drop the nets and try.  Jesus tells us that each day is a new day.

Small little acts against hate, violence, division can change the world.  Like an enormous spider web, if you touch it anywhere, you set the whole thing trembling.  When we drop those nets, our hands fill with outreach, compassion, forgiveness, and love.  We smell not our old lives, but the fragrance of creativity, peace, and acceptance.  We make this Sunday romance into a daily passionate love affair with Christ.

“Follow me."  Simple fishermen responded to the call, they were smart enough to run to his side.  Our hands are filled with the nets of life.  Will I, will you hold them, or jump on that counter, lean against him, see your reflection next to his, and  then begin walk like him, act like him and talk like him.  Only you can make that choice.  

SECOND SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY 1-16-11
William N. Hoelzel, III

My wife, Mary, and I are blessed in the fact that we have two grandchildren – Thalia, age 4, and William, age 3.  Currently, both live in Henderson NV, which means that we can get out there and be with them on a regular basis, watching them grow and mature and do all the things that three and four year olds do. 

Because they are cousins, one born to our daughter and the other to one of our two sons, of course they share similarities, at the same time also being different, as to be expected.  One of their similarities, which they share with countless other young people, is their discomfort with the dark.  For a myriad of reasons, many children are fearful of darkness.  And thus, Thalia sleeps with a table lamp on next to her bed; and, William sleeps with the light on in the bathroom across from his bedroom.  As long as those lights burn throughout the night, they are at peace.  They, along with other children, may not know the words, but intuitively, early in life, they sense light’s importance.

But, it isn’t just children who are anxious of the darkness, is it?  For some of us, walking across a darkened mall parking lot provides us with enough anxiety to make us walk faster, glancing right and left as we go.  For others of us it is walking into a darkened house when we forgot to leave a light burning.  For still others of us it is walking down a city’s dark alleyway, when we fully know that we shouldn’t really be doing that, but we were late and wanted to take a short-cut.

Whatever darkness triggers our anxieties, they are real, real to us, just as real as to the youngsters in our lives.

And other kinds of darkness can be found in many different arenas.  In times of personal upheaval, such as marital discord, or separation, or divorce.  In times of unemployment when things get a little dicey.  In times of profound illness, either in ourselves or in the life of one we love.  In times of a challenging relationship.  And, sometimes, the darkness can overwhelm us on a more national or international scale.

Right now I find a darkness hovering over Washington DC, fearing that gridlock, and sniping and name-calling will be ours for another two years, all the while as Americans continue to suffer and struggle.

We all are now experiencing the darkness that has settled over Tucson and our nation at the assassination attempt directed at a member of Congress, and the loss of lives there.

And, I find darkness hovering right now over the country of Sudan, as that poor, broken, besieged country finishes up a referendum about whether the southern part should become independent from the north.  After a week of balloting, the voting concluded yesterday,  and I find myself holding my breath to see whether violence, atrocities, darkness will once again descend upon Sudan.
Where do you find your own examples of darkness?  And, with so many areas of darkness all around us, outside of ourselves and within, do you ever feel as if the darkness is closing in, and actually winning?

The season in which we find ourselves, Epiphany, has several interesting themes associated with it.  And, one of them is the theme of light.  That, God has manifested his love, his light, his very presence in the coming of his Son, Jesus, the Christ, the Anointed One, to our oftentimes darkened world.

As an example of this theme, have you ever noticed how many Christmas cards feature a bright star beaming a shaft of light down upon the manger?  To me, that symbolizes the beginning of God’s inroad into our world of darkness.

You know, God could have undertaken another way in this battle between holy light and earthly darkness.  One very effective way would have been for God to employ a celestial Neutron Bomb, killing off those creatures which tend to cause darkness, while preserving the rest of life here upon Earth.

But, God didn’t.  Rather, God chose that shaft of light to be the beginning, an effort that continues on to this very day.

But, how does this approach work?  Well, to be very concrete and very personal, it works through you and me.

It works kind of like this.  At our baptism we could say that a spark, a photon of light, could we call it “Kingdom Light”?, is implanted in each one of us.
When our kids were young, we tent-camped a lot, and almost always had a campfire in the evening which, under the right conditions, we would bank.  Our kids became very proficient at poking around that campfire in the morning, trying to find some hot, glowing embers, and nurturing them, kindling them back into a flame.

Well, that’s what God intends for you and me to do with that spark, that photon of “Kingdom Light”, implanted within our being.  It’s not going to do us much good unless it is nurtured, kindled by Word and Sacrament and a holy Community of Faith, such as St. Michael’s, until it flares up in vigor and gives light to our spiritual and mental and emotional and physical lives.

I said earlier that one of the great themes of this season of Epiphany is that of light.  Another theme is that of a missionary nature.  A theme based upon the fact that Jesus wasn’t born just for the Jews, but he was sent to all the peoples of the Earth, a theme reflected first in the coming of the Magi, non-Jews, Gentiles, to worship Jesus.  A theme that the early Church had to wrestle with for a long time before it got it right.  Jesus isn’t just for a selected few; he is for everyone! 

It is a theme also reflected in our Eucharistic Prayer this morning when it reminds us that “…(Jesus) yearned to draw all the world to himself”.  And again as Jesus says to his trusted disciples in the Upper Room: “This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is poured out for you and for all”.

And this second theme of this wonderful season of The Epiphany provides us with a suggestive truth.  This implanted ember, this photon of “Kingdom Light” given to us at our baptism isn’t meant just for us.  That focus would simply be just too narrow.  Rather, what has been born within us is meant not only to lead us back to God, the source of our “Kingdom Light”, but also it is meant for the world around us.

Do you remember today’s Gospel story, how John the Baptist pointed out to Andrew, one of his own disciples, that Jesus was “The One”?  And, what did Andrew immediately do?  He went off to find his brother, Peter, to tell him that he had found “The One” longed for down through the ages.

In essence, that is what you and I have been called to do as well.  Like John the Baptist, like Andrew, and eventually like all the rest of the Apostles, and like so many Christians who have walked the Holy Road of Faith before us, we, too, have been called to be “pointers”.  Having discovered the “Kingdom Light”, God-in-Christ within our own life, we are invited, called, urged to point to him and tell someone else who Jesus is for us, and how he can be “The One” for them as well.  Called to point through the darkness of this world and say, “Do you see God at work there?  Isn’t that amazing?”

And, when we can muster up the courage, because for the first few times it can be kind of scary, when we can begin to grow into our vocation to be “pointers”, then our “Kingdom Light” is shared, pushing back, just a little bit, the darkness in someone else’s life.
There is an awful lot of resistance to that vocation, especially among us Episcopalians, who tend to live our lives as if the “Kingdom Light” implanted within us is a private matter, meant to be used only for ourselves.

But this amazing season of Epiphany reminds us otherwise.

Light has been born into this darkened world.  And, since God has rejected the Neutron Bomb approach, God means for us, God’s people, people who have been given the gift of “Kingdom Light”, to first nurture it into a strong flame, and then to share it.
This great season of Epiphany reminds us, once again, that we have been called to be partners with God in pushing back the margins of darkness.

You and me!

Isn’t that amazing?

In growing faith, because that’s what it takes, in growing faith let’s keep up, or maybe now begin, this holy work!

St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Sunday January 9, 2011 I Epiphany – Baptism of our Lord
Preacher: Christopher McLaren
Text: Matthew 3:13-17
Title: The Beautiful Words of God

Today we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River by his cousin Johnny B. It is a familiar story as all of the evangelists tell it in one way or another.  The gospel writer of Mark makes Jesus’ baptism the very first thing, skipping the birth narratives of Jesus altogether. Mark tells of Jesus’ baptism in a breathless and fast paced way focusing on the heavens being ripped open and the Spirit descending on Jesus like a dove only to drive him out into wilderness for testing.

The Gospel of John is so shy and furtive about Jesus’ baptism that he does not mention the baptism of Jesus at all. It might leave the wrong impression and impinge on Jesus’ purity to have him knee deep in mud, standing in line with the rest of ordinary sinful humanity for a sacred bath by the wild prophet Johnny B. So John tells the story a bit slant, proclaiming that he saw the Spirit alight on Jesus like a dove but he fails to mention that the mud of the Jordon was squishing between his toes at the time.

Matthew’s telling of Jesus’ baptism on the other hand is quite robust. We are told of Johnny B’s ministry among sinners, we are told of his colorful ways, and in a real way we are unsettled by his message. “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

But when Jesus showed up at the river, he didn’t look all that scary. He wasn’t juggling fire or carrying dangerous weapons. He was just a humble gentle carpenter from the backwaters of Judea whom God has chosen and sent as his own beloved Son. He was the one upon whom the Spirit would rest and through whom God would work healing in the world.

But why was Jesus there in the first place? John’s baptism was for the repentance of sins and he attracted some serious riff raff to his baptismal outpost. Oh there thieves and extortionists, religious snobs, cheats of all kinds, violent and shifty sorts, white collar criminals and people who had simply made a lot of bad choices and were hoping for a new start. But, why was Jesus there? By all accounts it was his manner of life, declared to be sinless that set him apart from most everyone. The gospel writers are at pains to point out that Jesus didn’t have any reason to repent and be baptized yet almost all of the gospels, in one way or another, admit that Jesus was in fact baptized by John in the Jordan.  It is a bit of scandal really that Jesus was baptized, some feel that he should have just taken over the franchise from Johnny B.  saying :cuz, you’ve done a great job with this and I can take it from here.” But no, Jesus got in the same line as every other sorry sinner and submitted to the same cleansing ritual that everyone else was embracing.  He wasn’t interested in standing on the sidelines looking holier than thou. He wasn’t interested in taking over the family baptismal business. In fact, he wasn’t really interested in grabbing power or notoriety. He seemed more interested in following God’s way wherever it led, to the muddy waters of the Jordan or to a cross at the city garbage dump outside Jerusalem.

So, when Jesus arrived at the Jordan River to where his cuz Johnny B. was baptizing, they engaged in a friendly but intense theological debate about who should be baptizing whom. “Please you first, no, no after you.” “No really should baptize me, oh well ok” John finally gave in and performed the baptism of Jesus.  It was evidently, the absolutely right thing for John to do, because as Jesus emerges from the waters, the heaven seem to open, for a moment. the clouds parted and something beautiful like a white bird, but more importantly something from God anointed Jesus. And a voice was heard saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

What an affirmation! What beautiful words! What acceptance! If you’re like me these are words you would love to hear personally. Just to hear that you are loved, accepted, that your very person is pleasing to someone, especially God would meet a deep spiritual need. These beautiful words came to Jesus and not just from his cousin but from heaven.  What had Jesus done that was so pleasing to God? This was the very beginning of his call to public ministry and the only thing he’d really done was say yes to God, but that is no small thing. Oh, and one more thing, and perhaps the one that holds the biggest importance for us, he had joined humankind in the waters of the Jordan. He did not stay aloof or ask to supervise from the bank, no he joined all of humanity in the mud of the Jordan and the response from heaven was pleasure. “You are my beloved son and I am very pleased.”

Many theologians have pointed out that these beautiful words were not only beautiful but that they proclaimed something powerful about Jesus’ purpose. If you look closely at the words, “You are my beloved son” and “with you I am well pleased,” you discover that both of them are quotes from scripture itself. It is as if God is quoting his own book.  The beloved son part which comes right out of psalm 2 was a coronation song for a king. The second part of the beautiful words “with you I am well pleased” come from the prophet Isaiah which we read a few minutes ago in our older testament reading. The words are part of a very important description of God’s suffering servant, who will heal the world not by force but by sacrificial love.  The incredible thing is that if you put these two things together a beloved king and a suffering servant  you end up with a  wonderful description of who Jesus is and of what his purpose is among us. In fact, the whole baptismal scene is a kind of early press conference, a public announcement of what the life and ministry of Jesus is to be all about. Jesus is the servant king.

The baptism of Jesus by John is a window into what God is doing in Jesus. It is a liminal moment in which an ordinary carpenter from Galilee embraces the life of God by entering the muddy waters of the Jordan. When he emerges from those waters, he is no longer just a carpenter, he has become God’s person in a new way.  He is, to be sure, the same person, but his life is taking a new direction. Johnny B said that his baptism was for repentance and in a strange way this is true for Jesus as well. His life is taking a turn and that is the basic way to understand repentance – to turn around and go a different direction, God’s direction.  In a surprising way Jesus did repent. He entered those waters a peaceful obscure peasant and emerged from them a rabbi who would change the world.

The transformation that happens to Jesus is powerful. He enters the water his own person, a private man from Galilee and he comes out of the water God’s person and now a public person at the center of spiritual controversy that accompanies his whole life of teaching and building a new kind of community.

The transformation that happens to Jesus is not an isolated event. It is the same thing that happens to us in our baptism and in our common life of worship here each week. Just as Jesus’ baptism made him God’s person in the world so claiming our own baptism makes each of us God’s person in the world, God’s public person. Our spiritual life is personal but never private. We are baptized and renew our own baptismal vows in public, because we are intended to be God’s people in the world.

When we confess our sins here, we do not simply confess our own personal sins. Rather we kneel and talk to God about the sins of all humankind – all the damaging things that we, as a people have done or failed to do. We admit to all the ways that we run from the love of God because we are sometimes so afraid to be known, to be changed, to grow into the likeness of Christ.  When we celebrate and give thanks for the gift of new life in our midst we do not do that only for ourselves either. We give thanks and rejoice will all of those who were lost and have been found. We delight in all those who have discovered hope in the midst of despair, light in the midst of darkness, healing in the midst of pain, life in the very midst of death. The truth is that our spiritual practice is not meant to be a private matter just between us and God. It is meant to be good news for all of God’s creation. Just like Jesus wading into the waters of the Jordan alongside all of humanity, so our worship is something we do in solidarity with all humankind as well.

If you listen to the baptismal promises, the heart of our faith, with you will notice how public these vows really are, how connected they are to all our human brothers and sisters. “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself.”  “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?’

The truth is that just as Jesus became God’s person publicly, so we too are God’s public people.  Together and in full view of the world we say, that we will be God’s people in the world by following the ways of God found in Jesus. We never say that it will be easy or that we will become wealthy or prosperous because of our choice to repent and follow God’s ways.

What we do know is that in doing so we are in good company because Christ has gone this way before us. Christ entered the muddy waters of the Jordan because he desired to come to us where we are at, not demand that we come to him. Why did he do it?  Because Christ loves us, that is why and because he is so pleased with us and loves humanity enough to join us in the water and mud and mess of life, to join us in the flesh to show us God’s ways in person.

And what is more, we find that when we become God’s person in the world, when we embrace what we believe to be this truthful and living giving way of God no matter how difficult, there are moments when we too hear a voice clearly speaking to us those beautiful words, “You are my beloved daughter, you are my beloved son and with you I am well pleased.

I wish to acknowledge my debt to the writings of Barbara Brown Taylor and William Willamon on the baptism of John in preparing this sermon.  In becoming God’s person in the world may each of us hear those beautiful words, “You are my beloved and with you I am well pleased.”

Today we find a human and hopeful Gospel story, that is often lost in the majesty of Christmas, or relegated to the second act of the Nativity pageant.  Yet, like most of the Gospel, read between the lines, and find something deeper.   It is not simply a story of three guys with funny names, who were wise, astronomers or kings.  It is not about them stopping by the manger with camels and strange gifts.  It is a story of a spiritual journey, a journey that many of us undertake when we seek Christ.   

The problem is that we hear this story so many times, that we develop our own images and version of these men.  We assume Caspar, Balthazar and Melchior are smart, educated and rich.  They have treasure chests, camels, gold, frankincense and Myrrh.  Yet do we know they have everything, something could be missing.   Maybe their lives were not filled with stars, maybe each had a private black hole, swallowing part of them up.  And then they felt deep inside this calling, a gentle voice telling them that things can be different.  They had to find what was beckoning, and then they find a star.      

Matthew tells us the sign was a star at its rising.  Not a brilliant star that lit up the heavens, or a huge comet streaking across the sky.  A star- rising.  It could have been one among the billions of stars in the night sky.   A star you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it; one that may be out there tonight.  But these men were looking.     When I was young, I was told that God had this beautiful coat and the stars decorated the coat.  That star that hung of Bethlehem was probably the one positioned over God’s heart, pulsating in rhythm with God heartbeat at the excitement of the love sent down.  

When these men, left their homes to find Christ, I wonder if people snickered.   They had no proof, only a feeling and a star.  The silent whispers – Huh, wise men, they must be fools, God does not come among us.  Their own rational intelligence was most likely telling them the same thing:  are you crazy? Messiahs, stars, a long difficult journey on the off chance of finding God?  Stay home, you can deal with it.  But there was that longing, that gently calling and off they went, without a map, after a star.

I believe they did so, because like each one of us, we know that we are created for something more.  Our lives have purpose.  This journey that is filled with joy, pain, tears and laughter, has meaning.  God is always calling us, if we listen, if we look.  And despite our resistance, our attempts to fill that longing with material goods, temporary anesthetics, or the empty fillers, we need to seek out our true fulfillment – God.  

Maybe that is why the wise men sought that star beating on God’s chest. The journey must have been perilous.  From the area near Bagdad, they would have traveled nearly 500 miles.  Through the desert, they faced heat, cold, and blinding sandstorms.  They traveled unmarked roads with no comforts of home, encountering pleasant things like vipers, highway robbers, and Roman patrols.   

Adding to the difficulty, imagine following a star without a guide or map.  It is kind of like our own spiritual journeys.   Some nights are cloudy and wish for the light to return.  You are in a storm, and your footsteps wander as you search for the light.  When the light is faint, you wonder if it really exists.   This was their challenge; they strayed off course, reoriented themselves, and took that step, once again toward the star.   I am sure when one wanted to turn around, they encouraged one another.  When one was ill, they cared for their friend.  They yelled, laughed, and probably cried.  

To endure this journey, I cannot believe it was simply adventure, prophecy or curiosity.  W. H. Auden captured their sentiments in the poem For the Time Being:   This journey is much too long, that we want our dinners, and miss our wives, our books and our dogs.  But we only the vaguest idea why we are what we are.  To discover how to be human now is the reason we follow this star.  

To be human, to realize they were created in God’s image, that they are loved by God.  Maybe they knew that in journeying toward and finding a loving God, they would also find transformation.  Each of these sojourners had a longing that could not be filled by riches.  Balthazar had forgotten how to love, and longed for the feeling of an open heart.  Or Casper had found out that he had an illness, and was fearful of the future. Maybe Melchior was just having a rough time in life and needed hope, a light that was to be found at the end of a star.  So the three, with different needs, pushed forward, seeking that one thing that could transform their lives.

Each of us had undertaken this journey.  Deep inside we know that there is something more.  And we take that first tentative step toward Bethlehem.  It may be with exhilaration, trepidation or desperation, but we seek him.  We may find ourselves in a hot, barren desert, pelted by the sands of life.  We may desperately thirst for relief or find an oasis of consolation.  We take that journey.  We may see the strong light of the star or strain to see that fading light that eludes our eyes.  We ask – will he be there?  Does Christ exist at all?  Yet we know, and we step forward.  Just like these three men.

The wonder is what they found.  They did not find a King attended by servants, harps playing, dressed in the finest silk.   They did not find a bookkeeper Messiah, who keeps track of all your wrongs, adds them up and then dispenses judgment.   At the end of their long difficult journey, they found a baby.  Lying in a barn surrounded by a tired Jewish carpenter, a young mother, serenaded by cows, sheep and horses.  

Imagine the reaction, the incredulous realization in finding God – in a helpless baby.  Matthew tells us that with joy they knelt and offered him gifts.  They did not question God or attempt to explain it, they realized that God was doing something entirely new and original.  I would have been shocked, traveling all this way and finding a baby in a barn.  If the journey is hard I want the spectacular movie God, the fireworks, thunderclap, the instant awakening.  Yet, deep down we know that God is so much more than our own personal magician or action movie.  God never fully reveals himself.  We see God in the reflections in our lives.  Like light streaming through the stained glass, enveloping our lives slowly, beautifully and softly.  God speaks to us in whispers, appears to us in shadows.  

We may find God in a manger, while driving to work, in the quiet of silence, in the company of one another.  We find Jesus in the poor, the homeless, in holding the hand of a dying friend, sitting with the frail elderly, laughing with a child, in our tears during the darkest of nights.  We find God in this Church, the Eucharist, at the end of a heavenly light, in a baby’s wet smile, or the person sitting next to you. All become our own little stables in Bethlehem.

And Matthew tells us that our journey does not end once we find Christ.  He said they “departed to their own country by another road."  When these three men found what they were looking for, once again, the easy thing would be to stay in that manger, but God expects so much more of us.  They had to return for the journey was not complete.  And what is more, being in his presence did not mean the return journey was easy.  They would face the same misdirection’s, heat, sandstorms, frustrations and exhaustion.  But they were different, the Child had changed them, God was with them.

Knowing that God was with him, when he returned home from Bethlehem Balthazar once again opened his heart to love, and I imagine he loved all those around him, family, friends, and strangers with an indescribable love.  Caspar found a way to deal with his illness; he endured and served as an inspiration to others who were ill, comforting them in their pain.  Melchior who was hopeless, I imagine him smiling telling everyone of how God sent a helpless child full of love, so that each one of us would know that we are loved.  And as he told the story, he showered those around him with smiles, peace and blessings.  He who was without hope gave hope.   Each one brought Christ to the world because as Augustine said, “Christ is the bread seeking hunger.”  

When we bring our whole being to the Lord, our longings and then we lay our gifts at his feet, our compassion for others, service to the poor, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, we become different. And then we go back, we find that the road is different.  It will lead us to new paths of faith, service and devotion.  Roads we never thought we would travel.  That is why this is called the Epiphany, the sudden realization.

God brings newness and possibility to each step we take in our lives.   It tells us that from the very beginning Jesus is to be personally experienced, no just thought of, looked upon, discussed, proved, accepted or argued.  Like those wise men, seek Christ.  That despite the pain of the journey, the naysayers, and the challenges, the road is worth it.  The journey, will always lead us to where we belong – With God.   And when we get there with joy, offer the precious gifts that God gave you to God and one another and then reach out and grasp the hand of the holy one.   Your journey, your life will never be the same.