Seeing is Believing: Mission

Seeing is Believing: Mission

Jesus Has a Mission

Mark 1:29-39

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. Feb. 7, 2021

What a crazy day in Capernaum. Jesus goes to the synagogue and preaches. His sermon is so powerful it brings the ire of a demon he summarily drives out. He then goes to Simon Peter’s house, where Simon’s mother in law is ill with fever. The disciples tell him about her, and he heals her. His first healing. As soon as the sun sets the whole city gathers at the door of Simon’s house. Word has gotten out about his sermon, how he preached the coming of the Kingdom of God with authority. Word has gotten out about his exorcism, how the demon trembled before him and lost the battle. And word must have gotten out about his healing as well, because people come looking to be healed.

What comes next never ceases to amaze me. He heals. He exorcises. And he binds the demons. The way Mark puts it it seems so matter of fact. I imagine that’s because this is the Jesus Mark knew. The Jesus who is more powerful than any disease, and who has authority to bind all demonic power. Jesus never turns anyone away. He never says, “no I can’t do that” or “I’ll do that for you if you do this for me.” There is never a price. He does not separate the deserving from the undeserving. His healing and his power knows no limit. As the people arrive he simply offers his healing power. As the demons tremble he casts them out.

And we might imagine that this was an exhausting episode for Jesus. While it may have been mentally draining, he does try to get away, it doesn’t seem to be physically exhausting. He spends the rest of the night in prayer. The disciples run to find him. Actually, we are told they hunted for him. Ironic since he told them that if they followed him he would make them fish for people! But now they’re hunting him down! When they find him they say, “everyone is searching for you.”

Here is the second bit that never ceases to amaze me. Jesus doesn’t say “listen, I need a break.” He doesn’t say, “I’m never doing that again” or “this was a one time deal. I don’t want to enable anyone. I hope they don’t get the wrong idea.” But he says, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” So he goes, he proclaims the gospel, he casts out demons, and he heals diseases. He does the same thing he did in Capernaum in all the neighboring towns. 

If we want an image of Jesus’ ministry, then, Mark wants us to know this is it. Jesus comes into town. He says “The Kingdom of God has come near, repent and believe this good news!” He goes to the synagogue and teaches people about the Kingdom he has come to inaugurate. The demons squeal, but there is nothing they can do. They are powerless before the almighty God. People come looking to be healed, and he heals them. He offers deliverance without price. He does not restrict who is worthy or unworthy. He simply states the fact: the kingdom of God has come. He shows them the Kingdom of God. He asks for nothing but faith in his word, and for repentance. Because if we are to live in the Kingdom of God, we must turn away from demons, and we must live a new life.

I want to emphasize two things about our gospel reading this morning. The first is Jesus’ mission. He is tireless. He has come to proclaim the Kingdom, and to show the Kingdom, to all. This remains Jesus’ mission. But now he works this mission through his Church. We are called to proclaim the Kingdom. We are called to let people know our God reigns, and he wants us to know joy. That he brings wholeness, and delivers us from the bondage of sin. That he will not rest until death is defeated. That he offers new life. It is us, now, who are called to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ, the gospel of the Kingdom of God. That is our mission, Christ’s mission.

The second thing I want to emphasize is what the disciples say when they find Jesus in prayer. "Everyone is searching for you.” Everyone is still searching for Jesus. Everyone wants what Jesus has to offer. Everyone is looking for his healing, his freedom, his peace, and his love. Many may not know that’s what they’re looking for, but that is why we need to proclaim the gospel. Our deepest desires, and our earnest yearnings can find their fulfillment in him. We disciples of Jesus Christ need to be bold in proclaiming that, and we need to model it as well. That in our words, and in our deeds, people can see that the life Jesus offers is a life that can be lived.

Jesus is both searching out the lost, and everyone is looking for him. The mission to proclaim the Kingdom of God continues on, and Jesus remains the desire of the nations. What an amazing mission we are called to join into. Following Jesus, we can witness to his healing and his salvation. We can be part of his transforming work in this world. When we attend to him in prayer, when we stay in the word, when we share our testimony, when we invite someone to join us in worship, when we work to feed others, when we act in love, we witness to the reality of the Kingdom that has come near. And we invite more people to join, to find Jesus, and to know his power. So they can see, too, that God has ripped heaven open. That he has sent his Son. That he offers life.

What is Truth?

“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.

Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

“What is truth?” retorted Pilate.- John 18:37-38a

Whenever I watch a movie about Jesus’ passion I always see this passage get misinterpreted. Jesus has been brought to Pilate to be sentenced to execution. Pilate takes the opportunity to interrogate Jesus as to the accusations the Jewish leaders have made. The interrogation ends here. Pilate asks Jesus if he is a king, Jesus replies his kingdom is not of this world, but that doesn’t phase Pilate. “So you are a King, then!” But Jesus wants him to understand he is no ordinary king. His jurisdiction does not overlap with Caesar’s jurisdiction. He testifies to the truth, and everyone on the side of truth listens to him. Then Pilate replies “what is truth?”

Too often this gets interpreted as if Pilate suddenly has some sort of existential crisis. In the course of his interrogation he begins to break down, and wonder about the nature and reality of truth. But Pilate is not earnestly asking Jesus about the truth. Pilate is being sarcastic. “What is truth!?” We might imagine Pilate saying, “There’s only one truth I know about or care about at this moment. And that’s the truth that I have the sword and you don’t. That I’m in robes and you’re in chains. That I have the authority to kill you, my life is in your hands. That’s the only ‘truth’ that matters here!”

How often are we tempted to think similarly? We think might makes right, or the strong do what they can and the weak do what they must. Seeing things through Pilate’s eyes is the world’s default. But Jesus tells us there is Truth with a capital T. “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no one comes to the Father except by me.” (John 14:6) This Truth is more real than might making right. It is more foundational than the stock market. This truth is dependable, and you can live your life by it. It’s the absolute truth of God’s love, God’s power, and God’s victory.

Pilate thought he knew the truth, but little did he know his authority was rags. It was the man in chains who had the authority to make life and dissolve it. It was the man in chains who had authority to make judgment. And he submitted himself to death on the Cross, for our sake. That is the truth to live by.

Ghosts in the Machine

Whatever the world Kurzweil envisions, it is not a human world dependent on the embodied, loving relationships that mark us as persons -- and therefore made in God’s image. - Jens Zimmermann

I came across the above article recently, about technology and the human person, and thought it helped put into words what many of us are feeling. The article is about a philosophical problem, whether or not human minds can be uploaded into computers, but it’s a philosophical problem with some practical consequences. What Jens Zimmerman points out is that for all the benefits that come with technology, whether they be the advances of medical science, new machines to make our lives easier, or new modes of communication, there is something incommunicable and irreducible about the human person that keeps us from relating to each other as mere machines, or keeps us from being able to relate to one another through screens and social media.

That is why social media can both bring us together but end up tearing us further apart. And why Zoom can bring us together but also make us feel lonely and exhausted. These tools have their place, and I for one am grateful, but they can’t replace true embodied relationship. We are not souls that have bodies, ghosts in a machine. We are embodied souls. And our bodies are not some suit we can put aside. They are intrinsic to who we are. When we act like we can really be together virtually, we lose something very important.

Our flesh, our smell, our jumping legs, and verbal tics, all indicate something true about us, all point to something incommunicable, all mark us as beings not to be used or manipulated but to be loved. The danger in a world built on the logic of technology, intoxicated with its promises, is that we might forget the person in it all. And doesn’t that tend to happen? I know many a times I’d get into arguments online, trying to “win,” forgetting there’s someone flesh and blood, a history and family, on the other side.

Jesus took on flesh and became a human person because the love of God, too, is as mysterious and incommunicable as human love. The only way God could properly show his love for us was in the way that we properly show our love for each other. And God continues to share that personal love in the Church. It is no wonder that our needing to separate through this pandemic would be so painful, God made us flesh and God made us for one another. And it is no wonder that no matter how grateful we may be for all these new virtual modes of communication, it’s just not the same. But it’s not bad. As long as we don’t put undue weight on tools that can’t replace personal presence. They ease the burden of the moment. They have their own joys. And we know this time of distancing is only temporary, and we will be in one another’s presence again.

Seeing is Believing: Authority

Seeing is Believing: Authority

Jesus Has Authority

Mark 1:21-28

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. January 31, 2021

I was a Boy Scout, growing up. Every summer I’d go with my troop to camp. We jumped around from camp to camp. But one of the camps we frequented had a particularly hard instructor at the rifle range. All us boys were afraid of him. He took no nonsense, and had all the personality of R. Lee Ermey. No one disobeyed his orders. The rumor among the boys was that he was a former marine drill sergeant. If he was, it showed. So imagine my surprise when I went to high school and he was teaching history and geography. I had expected him to run the classroom with all the discipline and authority he ran the rifle range. But as it turned out of all the teachers I had in high school, he had the hardest time managing the classroom. It was his philosophy that he would answer any question the students asked. Which meant he talked about the bell curve and penguin bowling just about every week. I saw students playing card games during his lectures. 

When he was at the rifle range, he was a man with authority. And while he was feared, he was also respected. But when he stepped into the classroom whatever it was he had in him that gave him his authority melted away. He didn’t summon it. And because he didn’t summon it the hour I had in his class tended to be the wildest of the day.

We all know authority when we see it. Sometimes authority is toxic or rotten, as in the case of a tyranny. But more often authority is freely offered or freely given. It is something people simply have, and isn’t challenged. My rifle instructor simply had authority, and it was a good thing too. A rifle range instructor at a scout camp better be strict for everyone’s safety. Mark this morning wishes to emphasize Jesus’ authority. An authority Jesus possesses to this day. An authority that will be undeniable when he comes again in glory.

We are told Jesus entered the synagogue on the sabbath to teach. The congregation was astounded by his teaching, they had never heard anything like it. Mark tells us he taught as one having authority, not like one of the scribes. No wonder. As I talked about last week, Jesus announces the coming of the Kingdom of God. He comes with a word unlike any other word. Not something to be evaluated, sifted through, criticized. But a word to be believed or rejected, pondered or scorned. He comes with all the authority of the Kingdom of God. The scribes could only talk about the word, Jesus could bring it.

Mark wants us to better understand the nature of Jesus’ authority, and the power of the Kingdom of God. So he shows us that authority in action. As it happens there is, in the synagogue, a man possessed by an unclean spirit. We might imagine that man had been in the synagogue every sabbath for the past how many years. But the unclean spirit that was within him never made a peep. The spirit could remain silent before the scribes. But Jesus comes speaking about God’s reign, with all the authority of God. The spirit cannot take it, it shrieks! 

"What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”

Every demon trembles at the authority and power of Jesus. This demon seeks to do battle. In ancient magic one could control an entity if one knew its proper name. The demon tries to control Jesus by blurting out his identity. But all he does is confirm his authority, the authority Jesus has over all demons and all unclean spirits. Jesus rebukes him, “Be silent, and come out of him!” The man convulses, and the spirit escapes. The demon is removed from the synagogue, and the people are amazed. “What is this? A new teaching--with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.”

One of the unique emphases of Mark is the power and authority of Jesus, especially against the demonic. Mark is like an action movie, where waves of henchmen and stooges come after the hero, and get mowed down. This is the first shot across the bow, but we’ll see Jesus combating the demons more and more, until finally he takes to the cross. It’s hard to read Mark’s gospel and get around all the exorcisms. The demonic is a reality for Mark, as it is for many Christians around the world who take comfort in these accounts.

We may experience the demonic in different ways. It’s not always rotating heads and pea soup. In fact, that’s very unlikely. But we do face the demonic in temptations. We do face the demonic when we are divided. Always remember Satan means accuser, and he is called the accuser of the brothers and sisters. Our word devil comes from a root that could mean “to divide.” 

However we come to experience the demonic, Satan has no power over Jesus. As we’ve seen in this episode in the synagogue, and as we’ll see in future episodes, Jesus has authority and Jesus has power. The word of Jesus, the word of the gospel, has authority and power. Before the name of Jesus temptation flees. In the name of Jesus we can find unity and comfort. There is no name in heaven, on earth, or under the earth, that is greater than the name of Jesus Christ. 

And Jesus does not use this authority to dominate. We do not need to fear the authority and power of God. It is an authority for our sake. It is an authority that shows its fullest expression not in smiting, but in the cross. Not in war, but in self-sacrifice. It is in the cross where God judges the earth and its demons. It is in the cross that Satan is overthrown. And when we lean on his name, and trust in his authority, when we believe in the proclamation of the Kingdom of God, we may be under his authority. And know his peace.

FORBIDDEN PASSAGE

A plate from FORBIDDEN PASSAGE. I don’t quite understand it either.

A wicked and adulterous generation looks for a sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah." Jesus then left them and went away.- Matthew 16:4

One thing I’m doing these cold winter months is typing out some old manuscripts I inherited from my Great Great Uncle Victor. He fancied himself a thinker and author, and tried his best to get them published in his lifetime, to no avail. He handed them down to my grandmother, who did not particularly care for them. Then they ended up in the hands of my uncle, who told me they could cure insomnia (he’s right). And now they’ve ended up in my hands, and so in some misguided enterprise of filial piety I’m typing books up for self-publication.

The first book I’m typing out is entitled Forbidden Passage. It is Victor’s statement on God, the universe, and everything. Victor was a pantheist who thought Christianity needs to be updated for modern times with its science and atoms and telstar transmissions. I think it’s one great exercise in missing the point. There is a particularly telling passage where he imagines what Jesus might do in his second coming:

As for miracles, it is possible that a modern Christ would readily admit that many miracles were being performed all around Him — in medicine, surgery, electronics, chemistry, and a score of other fields. So, He would turn His attention, as mentioned, upon power politics. With diplomatic and spiritual force He would carry His fight right on through to the very heart of dissension.

My Great Great Uncle seemed to imagine that Jesus’ miracles were about doing good works for others, and that if there were better means at his disposal then he would have used those means to do his good deeds. Victor was not a dumb guy. He grew up going to Church, and was very attentive. He can quote chapter and verse decently well, though with some hiccups. I would not be surprised if Victor isn’t the only one who thinks the reason Jesus heals is because modern medicine had not been dreamed up yet.

The miracles of Jesus are not, first of all, about doing good. The miracles of Jesus are signs. Through them we learn about the Kingdom of God. In John’s Gospel we are told the first of the signs Jesus performed was turning water into wine at a wedding in Cana. That is certainly a miracle. But it is a miracle that feels somewhat frivolous. No one’s life is made meaningfully better. He may have saved the groom some denarii but that’s hardly anything to write home about. What makes the miracle at Cana spectacular is not the good Jesus did. What makes it spectacular is that it is a sign of the Kingdom. The Kingdom is like a wedding, the union of Christ and his Church. And Jesus sanctifies that wedding and brings life to that wedding. Through his miracle, through his sign, he tells us a little bit about his reign. And meditating on it we may have some understanding of Christ and the Kingdom. Understanding, as Ivan Illich puts it, akin to the laughter that comes from understanding a joke.

So it is with all the miracles; healings, exorcisms, walking on water, multiplying a sack lunch, in all these cases the miracle points beyond the immediate action Jesus makes. The miracle becomes a window into the Kingdom. And by mediating on the miracles of Jesus we meditate on the mystery of the Kingdom of God. And as Jesus performed those miracles then, so too he continues to perform miracles as he reigns and tramples down his enemies.

Lessons from Jonah

Jonah began to go into the city, going a day’s journey. And he cried, “Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!”- Jonah 3:4

What an unappealing message! Jonah simply pronounces judgment, with no hope for repentance. We can imagine his proclamation was fairly halfhearted. After all, when he heard the calling of God to go preach to the Ninevites he ran away. He preached, this time, somewhat under the gun. Who knows, there might be worse in store for him than a fish’s belly if he ran away again.

But against all expectation, and all sense, it only takes one day of hearing this message for all of Nineveh to declare a fast, repent, and turn to God. Despite Jonah’s half hearted preaching, despite Jonah leaving out the possibility of repentance. The Ninevites are cut to the bone, and by the grace of God they turn to God.

As we later learn, it was for this reason that Jonah had fled in the first place. He was not afraid of the Ninevites. A prophet of God, afraid of death? No, he was afraid of God’s mercy! “I pray thee, LORD, is this not what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that thou art a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and repentest of evil.” (Jonah 4:2) That is, ultimately, why his preaching didn’t include the message of mercy. He wanted the Ninevites to die. He loathed his enemies. And knew that God did not share his own hatred, but instead forgave those who repent.

But God’s word is stronger than the messenger, and God’s mercy is mightier than human hatred. Despite Jonah’s best intentions, he was heard. His fears realized. God saved even his enemies.

The book ends with God giving Jonah a lesson in love. But we might find a different lesson here as well. We can be reminded of the grace of God that supersedes our own abilities. When God calls us, God is present. Even where we fail, God can bring about his purpose. Even when we actively sabotage God’s mission, God is strong enough to overcome that. So in following God we need not fear failure, but simply must embrace faithfulness.

But secondly, we see God’s earnest desire for reconciliation. God’s word brings about repentance and reconciliation even where and when reconciliation is not wanted. We might find hope here as well.

Seeing is Believing: The Good News

Seeing is Believing: The Good News

Jesus Shares News

Mark 1:14-20

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. January 24, 2021

Jesus is no abstract philosopher. He did not spend his life poring over ancient scrolls and writing dissertations. He did not idly stroll through Jerusalem disputing about the problem of the one and the many or whether virtue can be taught. The most important thing about Jesus’ message is not his moral teaching. The most important thing about Jesus’ message is the news he proclaims. 

Mark tells us Jesus’ ministry began with this proclamation of good news, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” The good news of Jesus Christ is not a new theory. It is not a new philosophy by which to live life. It is not a new insight. It is not something to be discussed, disputed over, or systematized. The good news of Jesus Christ is precisely that, news. It is the announcement that something has taken place. It is the heralding of an event. That event is the Kingdom of God coming near. And with the proclamation of that event, God’s reign, comes a call. That call is to “repent and believe in the good news.”

That word, gospel, had a different meaning in the ancient world. When one King conquered another king he would send his heralds. And the heralds would announce to the people “good news” or “gospel.” The good news that a new king has come near, and with that new king would come peace, prosperity, and justice. All that was asked of the people was obedience. Jesus is doing a similar thing. A new King is in town, God. His rule has come near. Satan is being down underfoot. The powerful are losing their iron grip. Salvation has come. And with the rule of God comes a calling: repent. Turn from your former ways. If you are to be citizens of the King you will need to live differently. You will need to grow in righteousness. Repent, and believe in God’s rule in Jesus Christ. Accept the rule of God.

This, in a nutshell, is what Jesus came to proclaim. That is why the earliest Christian creed is as simple as “Jesus is Lord.” Jesus is the King. All who believe in Jesus Christ, and put their trust in him, join God’s rule. They become part of this new reality. We become part of this new reality.

I want to emphasize this because it is a temptation for me to treat the Gospel as if it were an idea and not news, and I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one. It’s easy to make Jesus out as someone who had some interesting ideas. Or the first person in human history to realize we should love one another. Jesus as moralist, or Jesus as philosopher, misunderstands the real importance of the gospel. The gospel is not up for debate. You accept it or you don’t. The gospel comes before every debate, because the gospel is proclamation. It’s the good news. The Gospel tells us what is. It’s where we begin. You are caught up in it, or you are not. It transforms your life, or it does not.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ, the proclamation of the Kingdom of God, is huge news! There has never been more important breaking news in the history of humanity. God’s rule has begun. And with it comes peace, joy, righteousness, and salvation. Eternal life can be ours, because God has come in Christ and has set up his Kingdom. 

How does Jesus share this news? Where does he go? Does he go to the palace of the King? Does he take a boat and search for Caesar? Does he share it with philosophers or prelates or rich men? Not at all. Instead he finds some fishermen and offers them a place on the ground floor. “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”

The good news of the Kingdom of God is not for the select few. And unlike some news stories we see on the TV it’s not something that effects some but not others. The Kingdom of God is for everyone, even the fishermen, even you. Jesus calls us, as Jesus called Simon and Andrew, he says “come follow me, come enter the Kingdom and join me in this enterprise of spreading the news.” As Andrew and Simon were called into the joy of the Kingdom and into the vocation of sharing the good news, we too are called into the Kingdom and called to share the news.

How do we share the news? Perhaps the better question is, how could we not? If you have entered into the new reality God has brought about, your life will change. If you have entered into the new reality God has brought about, you cannot help but let people know the great joy you have found. Not because you wish to argue, not because you are right and want other to know you’re right, but because you have found someone, because you have entered into something, and you want other people to know the Kingdom and the King.

Jesus comes proclaiming the Kingdom, and he calls us to enter in. But when we enter in, how can we help but to proclaim along with him? How can we help but spread the news?

Power Belongs to God

Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this: power belongs to God.- Psalm 62:11

When I was young I learned to pray “thy will be done” and it unnerved me. Some things I were praying were too important to leave up to God’s will, I thought. What if God’s will for me wasn’t what I wanted? What I needed? But I was told that God’s will for me is better than whatever I’d want for myself, even if it might include some pain. So I kept praying “thy will be done” until I grew more comfortable with giving it all up to God.

It can be unnerving to realize that power does not belong to us, but power belongs to God. If power belongs to us, then things are in our control. We can make the world as we would want it, we could make our lives as we would want them. But it doesn’t take too long to realize that we are not, and cannot, be in control. All the power in the world is not enough to make our wills and whims come to fruition. Just ask the President of the United States. Every president is surprised by their own constraints.

At a time when things seem to be so out of hand, we can put our troubles and worries in God’s hands. Though we do not have the power to shape the world according to our whims, God has the power to make and destroy. But God’s power is not an arbitrary power, it is a power he always wields for the good of those who love him. (Rom. 8:28) It is a power grounded in love. And we know his love for us when we see Jesus on his cross. Even now, we are told, Jesus is trampling down his enemies and “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” (1 Cor. 15:26)

It’s hard not taking matters into our own hands. But some things were never in our hands to begin with. So God asks us to lay our worries at his feet, that he may put them in his hands. In the end all power is his. “For thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”

Seeing is Believing: Ascending and Descending

Seeing is Believing: Ascending and Descending

We See by Faith

John 1:43-51

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. January 17, 2021

A few weeks ago I was trying to put a mask on and accidentally knocked my glasses off my face. Of course they snapped in two. Woe is me. Luckily I was able to find new frames. But for a time the world was a blur to me, and who knew when I might see clearly again? Through the lens of faith we may see things aright, no longer as a blur. Faith gives us vision, and when we have vision we can live aright. I, gratefully, did not need to attempt driving without my glasses. That would have been dangerous. So too to walk without faith. It can be dangerous. You can’t see where you ought to be going.

Our doctrines, the one faith once delivered, also give us vision. Bishop Will Willimon tells a story from his time as a university chaplain. A young philosophy student came up to him and told him he was questioning his faith in God. Bishop Willimon asked him what was troubling him specifically. The student said he wasn’t sure he could believe everything he had been taught. Now that he has been taking philosophy classes things like the Virgin Birth were beginning to seem indefensible. “Ah,” Willimon said, “but the Virgin Birth is easy. We start you on the Virgin Birth, and if you swallow that then maybe you’ll believe the real hard stuff. Like the stranger on the street is really your sister, and the poor man is really a King.”

The point is Church doctrine isn’t taught for its own sake. It’s not enough to believe in the Virgin Birth and that’s the end of it. As James tells us, you believe that God is one and that’s all well and good but so do the demons and they tremble. Church doctrine, church teaching, is about giving us a clear and true view of the world. And when we have a clear and true view of the world then we can act accordingly. It matters that Jesus is Lord, it matters that he died for our sins, and it matters that he lives forevermore. The proclamation of the Kingdom of God matters. The Trinity matters. 

These things matter not just because it’s better to be right than it is to be wrong, but because once we see aright that this is the world where Jesus walked the earth, and if we see aright that the Spirit is living and active in our midst, then we can live aright as well. By God’s grace. How do we know the poor man is really a King? But because Jesus is himself a pauper. He had no money, he left it to someone else to hold the moneybag. And he said “what you’ve done for the least of these you’ve done also for me.” How do we know the stranger can be family? Because all who are given the Spirit in baptism are adopted as children of God. So we are all family in a way that is thicker than blood. These things are true and they tell us the truth about our lives and our world. 

Both the faith by which we believe, and the faith in which we believe give us vision. When we see Jesus aright, we may learn to see the world aright. And when we see things aright we can live aright. But first comes the call, then comes the vision.

In this morning’s Gospel reading we hear Jesus’ call and promise. Jesus calls Philip, and promises Nathaniel true vision. So too today. Jesus calls us, and Jesus promises us true vision. Jesus is on his way to Galilee where he meets Philip and calls him to follow. Philip, of course, drops everything to follow. Philip finds Nathaniel, and shares the good news about Jesus, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” But Nathaniel is incredulous, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” So Philip invites him to come and see. The call that was first extended to Philip, is further extended to Nathaniel. As Jesus called Philip, now Nathaniel is called.

When Jesus sees Nathaniel coming he greets him with, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” This perplexes Nathaniel because he’s never seen Jesus before in his life, so how does Jesus know anything about him? "Where did you get to know me?" He asks.

“I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Jesus says. In other words, Jesus saw him even though he wasn’t really there. It’s unclear what Nathaniel was doing under that fig tree. Maybe he was studying. Maybe he was teaching. But it is enough for Nathaniel, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

As if this account weren’t strange enough, Jesus says something really astonishing and obscure. “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these. Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

What can we make of all this? Jesus calls Philip, who calls Nathaniel. Jesus shows Nathaniel that he truly knows him. Nathaniel responds in faith. And what faith! He knows that Jesus is the one about whom the prophets wrote. He knows he is the Son of God, the King of Israel. But Jesus promises him that with the eyes of faith he will see a greater vision. 

That line about angels ascending and descending sounds a lot like Jacob’s vision on the ladder. Jacob, also known as Israel, had a vision when he was on the run. As he lay to sleep on a rock, he saw a ladder reaching to heaven and angels ascending and descending it. When he woke up he said he was at the gate of heaven, and did not know it. And called the place Bethel, meaning house of God.

Perhaps what Jesus is saying is, with the eyes of faith you will see a greater vision than even what you’ve just said. You will not only see by faith the Son of God, you will not only see by faith the King of Israel. What you will see, with the faith I give you, is that I am where heaven and earth meet. I am the one mediator of grace. I am the incarnation. I am God and man. 

In Jesus heaven is opened to us. And I don’t just mean heaven is open for us when we die, but heaven is open now. The power that comes from heaven, by the grace of God, is given to his Church. And in the next few weeks we will see how that power was worked in Jesus’ ministry. But the vision Jesus says Nathaniel will have by faith, is a vision we too may have. When we respond to the call of God in faith, and follow him in discipleship, we are given vision. We can see things as they are. Not just a pauper, but a King.

So what have you seen? Have you seen roaming Kings? A large family? Angels ascending and descending? Fire from heaven? Through Jesus we may see these visions and more. By faith we see the way things really are.

The Renewed Mind

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God — what is good and acceptable and perfect.- Romans 12:1-2

I had anxiety issues growing up, and still have some anxiety attacks to this day. When I was in high school I could dependably have an anxiety attack from 7AM through to 10AM. It made gym class especially difficult. I don’t like bringing this up too much. It’s not shame, I am not ashamed of any of this. But I’m not looking for sympathy. My struggle with anxiety is one I have large control over now, by the grace of God.

But I suppose my experience with anxiety is a major reason why I distrust my own desires and thoughts. I experience my mind as quite literally broken and in need of healing. I am still, at times, given to irrational and generalized fear. It makes perfect sense to me why Paul would charge us to be transformed by the mind’s renewal. Paul is not saying that if we think happy thoughts or engage in the right practices that we may renew our own minds. Pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps. Paul had a similar experience with his own mind. “I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” (Rom. 7:18-19) This is not the confession of a man with control of his faculties. Rather, Paul is saying that when we submit to Christ, make of our lives a living sacrifice to him, that God will renew our minds.

Our first cooperation with God is to let him do his work. It is not within us to control our own thoughts or own desires. Our thoughts and our desires are broken by the domination of sin. And sin is most powerful in our lives when it is disguised as good and pleasant works. Such as the individual who tries to pick themselves up by their own bootstraps, make themselves a better person, but in all their habit forming and diligence fails to lay it at God’s feet. But it is the good pleasure and love of God to heal our thoughts and desires. We are given opportunity to practice that healing. But it is first, and foremost, the gift of God. It is first, and foremost grace.

Our minds can be renewed, but that renewal is in the first and last instance the work of God.

Scratching That Itch

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”- Philippians 4:7

I come from the Upper Peninsula where the mosquitos roam. Growing up everyone always complained about how bad the mosquitos were, but I assumed it was normal. It wasn’t until I left town for college that I realized the amount of mosquitos we have up there is not, in fact, normal. It is ridiculous. When there is a ridiculous amount of mosquitos you’re bound to get bit. And I got bit plenty of times. 

I’m told that if you don’t scratch a mosquito bite it eventually stops itching and all is well. I am not one of those people who can stop scratching. I enjoy scratching. I’ll scratch until I have destroyed that bump. It’s not the most pleasant way to deal with it, and it’s likely the most bothersome. But that’s my habit, I can’t stop scratching that itch.

I think there are all sorts of things in our lives that are like that itchy mosquito bite. We get some bad news and we can’t stop worrying about it. Someone insulted us and we can’t let go of our anger as we imagine the various ways we can get back at them. There are all sorts of potential fears and anxieties that we can’t let go from our heads. Is it because we are so oppressed by them, they’re so omnipresent? Or is it sometimes that we in some way enjoy them? That we cannot help but feed into our anger, our fear, and our anxiety? Why, without it, what would I do? Why, without it, how can I pity myself?

I do not mean to cast blame on the victim. We all face trials. I wouldn’t dare diagnose any given person this way. But I am speaking from personal experience here. Sometimes I pray for God to take this worry away, or to drive away my anger, and I realize in the moment that I make the prayer that I desire that worry, and I cherish that anger. As soon as the prayer leaves my lips it feels halfhearted, as if I secretly desire that God would not listen, that his peace would not guard my heart and my mind. Maybe you’ve felt the same way. 

It’s a thorny issue. How can we desire, in a way, our own suffering? But this is an aspect of the fall, and a way sin dominates us. Sin doesn’t dominate us against our will, too often sin dominates us because we desire it. Our own desires are often twisted, to the point that we would rather be charged with anxiety than the peace of God. The good news is that God knows what we need before we even ask it, and God’s blessings are not dependent on our will or actions. God’s blessings are dependent on God’s love. Period.

Do not let anything get in the way of prayer. It is one way God works to mend our desires, to bring us to the point where we do not simply scratch the itch of anger, but learn to desire and adore God’s peace. Do not let anything get in the way of Scripture, where the blessings of peace are laid out. Let God work in you, and through you. And he can take the itch away.

Seeing is Believing: The Open Heaven

Seeing is Believing: The Open Heaven

We Cannot Be Resigned

Mark 1:4-11

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. January 10, 2021

One of the great temptations today, for a disciple of Jesus Christ, is resignation. That is to say, to begrudgingly accept things as they are as if they were inevitable. When we resign ourselves to the way things are, when we think nothing can change, what we are really doing is disbelieving God’s promises. We are disbelieving God’s promises because God promises peace and joy and justice. God promises transformation, and an answer to our hope. When we resign ourselves to the way things are we are saying God does not act, and God cannot keep his promises to us.

The Old Testament shows many examples of this resignation to the world as it is. When God delivers the Israelites from Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, shattering the armies of Pharaoh, the Israelites worry about where their food and water will come from. They demand that Moses strike the rock that they might have water, because they do not trust in the goodness of God. In the days of Samuel the Israelites demand a king so they can be like the other nations. They want a man to fight their battles for them, because they no longer trust in God to fight their battles. They resign themselves to the world as it is, a world of strong men and stronger armies. A world of empires and Kings. They don’t accept the promise of God, that if they love him he will fight for them. The promise of God isn’t real for them, all that is real is bronze and iron.

Even today, after two thousand years of Christian history it’s easy to fall into that same resignation. Whether we resign ourselves to the unfortunate knowledge that the leopard cannot change his or her spots. Or resign ourselves to the injustices of the world. Or we resign ourselves to churches that must shrink, that people just aren’t all that interested anymore. When I was in my last placement, I remember feeling resigned to our program’s limitations. My charge was in a cooperative parish that worked as a General Board of Global Ministries mission site. And our vision for the ministry was far larger than what was realistic. We needed a base of operations for Volunteers in Mission teams and for our materials. But finances had always been tight, and we had nothing saved up. While we looked around, it seemed like a pipe dream. Until we learned an old school was on the market for $10k. And a very generous donor, who believed in what we wanted to do, and believed in the promise and power of God, made the donation. We went from a vision too big for our britches, to scrambling to where God was taking us. If God can make things happen for a few small churches in the middle of nowhere, God can make things happen in our lives. 

The wonderful thing about resignation is that you are almost always right. It is often enough a self-fulfilling prophecy. If the leopard won’t change his spots, you won’t give them a chance to do so. If there is no one searching, if Christ isn’t still calling people to his church, then you’ll never find them. But the painful thing is you lose a sense of wonder at the world, and no longer see the work and power of God. If God can save, surely God can transform.

We always resign ourselves when we are certain we know the way things really are, and we know the way things really work. But the beauty of faith is accepting the world is not the way we think it is. Faith is recognizing that we do not need to be in control, because God is in control. And God can lead the leopard to change her spots. God still calls people to be his own. God’s activity in the world did not stop when John of Patmos finished the Book of Revelation. But, in fact, Christ reigns. And Paul tells us he must reign until he puts all enemies under his feet.

Our gospel reading this morning comes from the beginning of Mark’s Gospel. He is recounting Jesus’ baptism. John was baptizing at the river Jordan, and all Jerusalem was going to him to be baptized for the forgiveness of their sins. But John was sent to prepare the way of someone far mightier. He says, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” I baptize you with water as a sign of your repentance. But when he comes, the one they call the messiah, he will baptize with the Holy Spirit. The same Spirit that was upon the waters at the creation. The same Spirit that cut the Red Sea in two. The same Spirit by which Elijah called down fire from heaven. And the same Spirit by which the prophets spoke. 

We are told that Jesus was among this crowd who came to be baptized, and when he came up out of the waters he saw an astonishing vision. “He saw the heavens ripped open, and the Spirit coming down like a dove.” Then he heard the very words of the Father, presumably through the hole in the heavens, “"You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Mark is the only gospel that tells us Jesus saw the Heavens ripped open, much like the veil in the Temple was ripped open top to bottom at the crucifixion. It is a powerful and almost violent image. It is through the hole in the sky that the Father speaks and the Spirit comes down. And we are never told that the Heavens, once ripped asunder, were put back together. The implication seems to be that they, in fact, were not. That the hole in the heavens Jesus saw exists to this very day. That the barrier between earth and heaven is torn. And the place where Heaven and earth meet is Christ. The beloved. The lamb of God.

Like I said before, resignation relies on thinking we know how things really are. We know the leopard will not change its spots. We know how the world works. We know life in this age requires certain grim necessities. But how can we be resigned in a world where the heavens have been torn open and the Father speaks? How can we be resigned in a world where we are gifted the very Spirit of God? As we heard in the reading from Acts, we receive that same Spirit in our own baptisms. The heavens remain open. God is still active. This is not a closed world, but it is an open one. Open to the gracious God who lives and who acts and who makes salvation.

How can we ever remain resigned to the way things are, when by grace God fulfills his promises? By faith we know the heavens are torn asunder, and God is living and active. So much of discipleship is learning to see by faith. Learning to see this world not in terms of resignation, but in terms of hope. We cannot predict or calculate the grace of God. We can only follow. We can only rejoice.

Epiphany: The Call of God

Epiphany: The Call of God

God Calls All

Matthew 2:1-12

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. January 3, 2021

I have mentioned Augustine of Hippo a few times, since I’ve been here. I can’t help but quote him. Maybe I should tell his story if I’m going to keep referring to him. Augustine was a bishop in the late Roman Empire. Hippo, the seat that he served, was in modern day Algeria in North Africa. But Augustine wasn’t always a Christian. He talks about his early life and conversion in his book Confessions.

Augustine was born to a modest african family. His mother, Monica, was a devout Christian while his father was a pagan most of his life. So Augustine was pulled each way. He was a spectacular student and studied rhetoric. His skills as an orator would eventually bring him to Rome. But first he studied in a city called Carthage. There he fell in with the other young men who were boastful and licentious. But Augustine was a very introspective young man, and knew he wanted more in life than wine and women. He studied the works of a philosopher named Cicero, and soon fell in with a religious sect known to history as the Manicheans. Maybe you’ve heard of them before. They believed there were two forces in the world, good and evil, and these forces were always at odds.

Augustine studied the Manicheans closely, but very quickly lost interest in them. He began reading Platonists, because they seemed closer to the truth. But even then his interest began to wane. All the way through his mother Monica would pray for him, and acted as a witness calling him back to the faith she baptized him in. But Augustine knew he’d have to give up his life with his friends if he became a Christian. One time he prayed, “Lord, make me chaste and continent, but not yet.”

When Augustine turned 31 he finally converted to Christianity, and the story he tells in the Confessions is vivid. He was outside resting when he heard a child’s voice playfully sing “tolle lege, tolle lege” which is latin for “take up and read! take up and read!” Accepting the prompting he picked up a copy of Paul’s letter to the Romans he had handy. And this is what he read, “Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof.” For Augustine this passage was enough. He wrote, “Belatedly I loved thee, O Beauty so ancient and so new, belatedly I loved thee. For see, thou wast within and I was without, and I sought thee out there. Unlovely, I rushed heedlessly among the lovely things thou hast made. Thou wast with me, but I was not with thee. These things kept me far from thee; even though they were not at all unless they were in thee. Thou didst call and cry aloud, and didst force open my deafness. Thou didst gleam and shine, and didst chase away my blindness. Thou didst breathe fragrant odors and I drew in my breath; and now I pant for thee. I tasted, and now I hunger and thirst. Thou didst touch me, and I burned for thy peace.”

Augustine opens his confessions by saying, “our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they find their rest in you.” Looking back at his life he sees that he was always restless. All the philosophies, all the experiences, everything the world had to offer, was not enough for the young man. He needed to rest in the one he was made for. All his searching, all his desiring, he came to discover, was for God in Christ. And so he surrendered. He accepted Jesus Christ as Lord.

What Augustine came to realize, then, was that God called him. As God called Augustine of Hippo, so God calls each and every one of us. This feast of the Epiphany, this day we set aside at the end of the Christmas season, is a time to remind ourselves of God’s call for everyone and the importance of being awake, alert, and observant. Eventually God’s call got through to Augustine, and he learned to hear. Have you heard God’s call for your life?

In our Gospel reading we see the contrast between the insiders and the outsiders. The Jerusalem establishment and the pagan wise men. The Jerusalem establishment has everything necessary to recognize Jesus’ birth. They know Balaam’s prophecy about a star, “a star will come out of Jacob.” They know that he is to be born in Bethlehem, as the scribes recount. They possess all the prophecies, all the scriptures, and Bethlehem is in their backyard. But when the pagan astrologers show up, offering gifts to the newborn king whose star they witnessed, everyone is deathly frightened. No one was looking for a Messiah. Who needed a Messiah? They had Herod. He was good enough. And Herod certainly wasn’t going to step aside for any man. Let alone an infant.

The astrologers, the wise men, lacked any of those benefits. They likely had never heard of Bethlehem. Jerusalem was far away. They had no Old Testament. They were not familiar with the prophecies. All they have are the stars. Stars they had been trained to observe since their youth. They knew how to silence their minds and their hearts, and how to observe, and how to let the stars speak to them. The practice of astrology is not looked on very kindly in the Old Testament. A prophet, after all, has no need of the stars he or she can simply go to the one who made the stars. But even so God chose to speak through a star. Because God calls everyone, even the pagan astrologers. 

Christ is the light, and his light shines over the earth. He calls and beckons all of good heart and good will to follow him. He calls all who are restless to rest in him. But all it takes is for us to look. To really look. Then we will see the works of Jesus. Then we will see his abounding grace and wondrous love. When we silence our hearts to listen for his call, when we truly look, we may see and hear.

That is, after all, how it went for Augustine. He had all sorts of reasons not to listen. But one day he did. And it happened so off the cuff. It happened in such an ordinary way. But he listened. He listened to the gospel, he heard the calling of God. And he followed. And his life truly began.

Christmas Eve: Not According to Plan

Christmas Eve: Not According to Plan

What God Plans and What God Promises May Never Be Frustrated

Luke 2:1-20

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Fri. December 24, 2020

Christmas was not going to plan. The river had flooded and damaged the organ. If they were going to celebrate midnight mass on Christmas Eve, they would need to find another instrument and use all new music. But what did they have for the guitar? They would have to be creative. The priest, Joseph Mohr, met with his organist and local schoolmaster Franz Xaver Gruber that day. Not too long ago Father Joseph had written a nifty little poem about the birth of Christ and wondered if his organist could put it to music and play it on the guitar. The nifty little poem was called Stille Nacht. And we know it as Silent Night.

We do not know how that midnight mass was received. It was, after all, not the ordinary Christmas eve service. But we do know that an organ builder became enamored with the little carol, and from there it became a hit. Now what was once a hastily assembled tune is a dearly beloved carol and fixture in all Christmas eve services. And to think no one would have ever heard of Silent Night were it not for a flooded church, and a last minute emergency. When things don’t go according to our plans, it doesn’t mean things aren’t going according to God’s plan. 

Let’s not forget that the first Christmas did not go to plan either. Mary was already with child when word came that the world was to be registered. They were required to go to Joseph’s ancestral home for the registration: Bethlehem. The journey would have been over 100 miles long, and would have taken four or five days. That is not an insignificant hardship. Joseph would have taken many days off from his work, and Mary knew she could be giving birth on the way. It is nothing either of them would have planned to do, but it was something they had to do.

To make matters worse, when they had made it to Bethlehem they had no place to say. While it was Joseph’s ancestral home it would seem Joseph did not have family left there. Or, if he did have family they didn’t see fit to prioritize the young couple. They searched the town for some place to stay, but there was no room for them anywhere. Finally one individual took pity on the couple and offered his barn. And so that is where they spent the night, a smelly barn with holy the animals to keep them warm. There, in a barn, hardly the most sanitary of conditions, Mary gave birth to Jesus. God was born in a stable. And he who the heavens cannot contain was wrapped in cloth, and laid in a manger. 

Certainly no one planned it this way. Doubtful Joseph wanted to make the journey. Doubtful Mary wanted to give birth in a barn. And yet, it had to be this way. By traveling to Bethlehem Mary and Joseph fulfilled the prophecy of Micah “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” (Micah 5:2) 

And it is not like Mary and Joseph were without blessing. God made sure they were safe through all of this. They did not need to fear bandits or disease, for God watched over them. God also blessed them by sending the angels to announce good news. Mary and Joseph were not alone that night. But they were visited by the shepherds, and heard their words of comfort, “We saw the angels light up the sky like it was the day” we might have heard them say, “And they told us, “Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” 

Regardless of human plans, regardless of human failings, regardless of the chances and circumstances of this life, God’s plan was fulfilled. On this day is born to us a savior. Christ. The Lord.

As in that cold December night in Bethlehem, or as in that cold and wet December night in Austria, we too face a Christmas that has not gone according to plan. We have not been able to hold our concerts, or our parties. It is a Christmas unlike any other. But we ought to take comfort in knowing that the first Christmas was not anything that went according to plan. And the greatest blessings in life are, perhaps, not those that we have planned. But the greatest blessings in life are those things that God has willed.

On Christmas we know what God wills for us. God wills for us hope, in being born for us in Jesus Christ. God wills for us peace, announcing peace by the song of the angels. God wills for us love, as the example of Christ’s life shows. The infant would grow into a man, a man who preached the Kingdom of God and showed God’s reign with his deeds of love and mercy. And God wills for us salvation, a salvation he won on the wood of the Cross. 

What matters this night is that we remember God’s will for us, and God’s promises for us. Whatever we may plan may be frustrated by human error or the chances of this life. But what God plans and what God promises may never be frustrated. It will not be frustrated by flooding of a Church. It will not be frustrated by the decree of an Emperor. It will not be frustrated by no room in the inn. And it will not be frustrated by the judgment of prelates or the wood of a cross. So God’s promises for us are certainly not frustrated tonight. But tonight, even tonight, we may know his hope, peace, love, and salvation.

Christmas: Holiness of Life

Christmas: Holiness of Life

God Calls All to Holiness

Luke 2:22-40

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 27, 2020

Dorothy Day was a Catholic writer and activist. She started her career as a journalist, but is best known as a co-founder of what would be called the Catholic Worker Movement. The movement was centered around houses of hospitality where people could come to live off the street. They ran soup kitchens, hosted times of teaching, held prayer together, and ran farms. The goal was a personalist revolution, Not a revolution through the state. Each person would love another person, and from there a new world would be born. When you read some of their earlier writings it’s hard not to be taken up in their fervor. “the Sermon on the Mount will be called practical” Peter Maurin, another Catholic Worker once wrote, “when Christians make up their mind to practice it.” 

Dorothy Day was both a beloved and reviled figure, in her day. She had a clear love for the poor and for Christ, matched with a pugnacious attitude. And she was not afraid to pick sides. Since her passing there’s been a movement among Catholics to have her recognized as a saint. I, of course, make no position on that either way. But I am reminded of one concern of hers. She is quoted as saying, “Don’t make me out to be a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed that easily.”

That line is characteristically Dorothy Day, and it says something about the way we treat those we call saints. We need to be careful not to put saints on a pedestal. If we put them on a pedestal it’s just one more way we dismiss their witness. Dorothy’s discomfort with being called a saint is that we might then say, “well that’s all well and good for her. She can do that. But I’m no saint.” Loving the poor, that’s for the saints. Daily prayer, that’s for the saints. Holiness of life, that’s for the saints. Me, I’m never going to be a saint. All I can do is get by. I suppose we do that to all heroes. They’re heroes because they’re heroic. As for myself, well, I’m just a guy.

The truth of the matter is that every saint is just another person. They have no innate abilities or qualities that you or I lack. A saint is a saint by the grace of God. Holiness of life does not come from our heroic will or good breeding, but simply by the grace of God. Why should we think otherwise? Salvation is by the grace of God, not by our works. And what is holiness of life but living out the grace of God? God has given us a gift, as we celebrate this Christmas. That gift is Jesus Christ. We show we have received that gift, we respond to that gift, when we live holy lives.

John Wesley struggled earlier in his life because he didn’t quite grasp this point. He dearly desired to have holiness of life. He wanted to be like those we might call saints. And so he engaged in rigorous disciplines. He mapped out his day so he had a certain amount of prayer time. He budgeted his income so that the most of it went to the poor. He worked and worked and worked, because he thought holiness of life was something that came by great effort and he was going to expend that effort. But when he had that famous experience at Aldersgate, when he felt his heart strangely warmed, what he recognized was that Jesus died for him, even him. God will use our discipline, and use our efforts. But it’s never our efforts that win holiness of life. It is always, entirely, the gift of God.

Holiness of life is not something withheld for the select few. Holiness of life is something that is offered to everyone. It is not about the efforts we might expend as much as our willingness and humility in receiving. God calls us to be his own. Will we accept the call? The Father wishes to adopt us, will we be so adopted?

Even Jesus is every bit a human being as you or I. It is easy for us to read the gospels and say, “well yeah, but he is God.” I can never love my neighbor the way Jesus loves, I can never love God as Jesus loves. While it is true Jesus is God, Jesus is also entirely human. Jesus knew our pains. Jesus knew our temptations. And Jesus had to grow.

This morning we read from Luke’s gospel about when Jesus is brought to the Temple. There Anna and Simeon offer blessings and prophecies about what will take place. This Jesus, this infant, will be the cause for the falling and rising of many in Israel, Simeon says. He will bring about the redemption of Jerusalem. A sword will pierce his mother’s heart. But this amazing infant is still an infant. And being a human infant sacrifice is made according to the Law. That is why Mary and Joseph are there. Being an infant he may be held in Simeon’s arms. And being an infant, “The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.”

Jesus, too, was once held in the arms of another. Jesus, too, wore diapers. Jesus, too, had to grow up. Jesus was not a super human. Jesus was every bit human, human to the bone. And this human knew no sin. This human had holiness of life. This human unites us to God through the cross. So that by him we too, merely human though we may be, may also know his holiness. May also know his love. May also know his life.

Let us not dismiss the saints, as if their example were only good stories to tell. God calls all of us to be saints. God calls all of us to be like his Son. And it’s not impossible. Nothing is impossible with God. All of us may be as joyful, happy, peaceful, and loving as Jesus. All of us many experience the love of God.

Gathering- Tabernacle

Gathering: Tabernacle

God Fulfills his Promise

2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16; Luke 1:26-38

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 20, 2020

David, we are told, was a man after God’s own heart. When Saul had fallen away God called Samuel to anoint young David, though he was still a boy. While David was not the biggest, or the strongest, God told Samuel he does not look on the outside but he looks at the heart. So David was anointed, and God’s spirit was with him.

God defended David throughout his life. He protected him from the jealousy of Saul. He saved him from foreign armies. He watched over him as he dwelled among the Philistines at Gaza. And, ultimately, God made him King of all Israel. All the tribes would bow before David. David would subdue all of Israel’s enemies. And our Old Testament reading this morning begins when David has settled in his rich Kingly palace, as God had given him rest from his enemies.

David, the man after God’s own heart, called the prophet Nathan before him. David had a concern. “I live in this sumptuous palace of Cedar” David told Nathan, “but the ark of God stays in a tent.” Since the days of Moses the Ark of the Covenant was housed in a tent. The Ark was a box that contained various artifacts from the Israelites sojourn in Egypt, such as the Ten Commandments, some manna, and Aaron’s staff. Its cover, called the mercy seat, was made of gold, and depicted two cherubim on either side. The Ark was believed to be the footstool of God, and was so holy no one could touch it. When the Israelites took the Ark to battle they were certain of victory.  But when the Ark was not taken out for battle it was kept in the Tabernacle. There priests performed the sacrifices required by the Mosaic Law. 

While David lived in a mansion, God dwelt in a tent. And David thought this was downright wrong. David wanted to build a temple to the Lord to house his Ark. At first, Nathan agreed, and told David, “Go, do all that you have mind; for the LORD is with you.”

But that night God spoke to Nathan. He had never once asked for a house in all the centuries his ark remained in the tabernacle. Why would he need one now? No, instead he says I will build you a house, David. Not a house of cedar, which won’t stand the test of time. But I will build you a dynasty that will stand the test of time. An everlasting dynasty. An everlasting house. “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever.”

Such an astonishing promise. But at first it seems as if the promise was not kept. After Solomon’s reign, the Kingdom is split. By 587 BC the Kingdom of Judah is overcome by Babylon, and the house of David never has a King in Jerusalem again. And God does get a house built for his Ark. Solomon builds the Temple, a massive and extravagant house, far greater than the house of cedar David lived in. But that, too, would be lost. And with it, the Ark of the Covenant.

The Kingdom fallen, the house dispersed, the Temple destroyed, the Ark lost. It would seem God had abandoned his people, and that he had not kept his promise to David. There would be no everlasting kingdom, the throne would not be established forever.

But just as God did not desire an earthly Temple to show his glory, so too God does not require a temporal throne to fulfill his promise to David. 

In our Gospel reading we see the fulfillment of God’s promise to David.

But it’s in a way no one could expect.

We hear that in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. He tells her that she will conceive, and bear a son. His name will be Jesus. He will be great, he will be the son of God, and he will have the throne of David. He will rule over Israel forever. His Kingdom will have no end.

In the end God gets himself a home, and in the end David’s Kingdom has no end. God gets himself a home not made of rock and gold, but one made of flesh. God tabernacles not in cloth, but in this person Jesus Christ. As John reminds us, “the word became flesh, and tabernacled among us.” God is now this person, Jesus. Descendent of David. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. And he rules forevermore.

Unlike a Temple nothing can tear Jesus down. Unlike a worldly Kingdom no one can conquer him. There is no way to end his rule. He will reign. He must reign. He must reign until all enemies are trampled underfoot. This is God’s marvelous faithfulness, this is how God keeps his promise to David. Though human sin may seem to frustrate God’s promises, in the end it cannot. In the end God cannot be stopped. 

And as the people of Israel would stream from all around the world to worship at the one Temple, so too now the nations are called to stream in from all around the world and follow the one Lord. Jesus calls us together into his Kingdom. Jesus gives us life. And Jesus lets us know peace. And we all await that day, that day that is surely coming, when his rule will be undeniable in its fulness. 

Pondering

But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.- Luke 2:19

After a long day’s journey. After finding no place where she may lay her head. After being offered nothing better than a barn, because there was no room in the inn. Mary, who was great with child, gives birth to Jesus. It’s not the ideal circumstance, for Jesus or for Mary. I can’t imagine the hardship the whole ordeal put on the holy couple. But Luke does not record for us their complaining. And only this once does Luke give us any hint as to what was going on through Mary’s mind.

When the shepherds arrive telling Mary and Joseph about their vision of the angels, and the message they had to bring, we are told in the middle of that raucous commotion (do you think shepherds were soft and polite people?) Mary pondered these things in her heart. Her response is not annoyance, or frustration, or resignation. She reacts in wonder. She treasures the words of the shepherds. Treasures that cold night in the stable. Her son, the son of God, in a feeding trough. She wonders at it all in her heart.

Mary is a contemplative. She’s a contemplative because she wonders. She wonders at the grace of God. She wonders at the power of God. The wisdom of God. And wonders that after all these years it would come to this. God would redeem his people from their sins. She would be the mother of the King of Israel. How could she but stop and wonder?

This Christmas is hectic in its own way. But it also gives us opportunity to stop and wonder. To ponder these things in our hearts. The one whom the heavens could not contain, as Augustine puts it, was contained in a manger. He who has no beginning is born. He who’s got the whole world in his hands is held in the arms of his mother. Such is the gentle love of God.

Gathering- Joy

Gathering: Joy

Joy is Grounded in God’s Promise

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 13, 2020

For a few years now I’ve taken on a discipline during Advent. Unless it’s an emergency, or otherwise work related, I shut off all electronics in the house once the sun sets and there is no light on the horizon. That means my phone, my TV, my computer, are all put aside. The days are very short during Advent, in fact, they’re at their shortest around this time. At first it’s something of a hardship. I absent-mindedly pick up my phone only to quickly put it down. I grow restless. I try to think up various excuses for why it’s ok for me to check one last message. But after the first week I settle in. I come to enjoy quiet evenings with a book in front of the fire. I relish getting to bed early, and waking up early. What begins as deprivation turns into a simple pleasure. A simple pleasure I, of course, quickly give up as soon as the Christmas bells ring. But a pleasure I cherish each year I have opportunity.

Life is full of simple pleasures such as a quiet evening, a good cup of coffee, a hearty breakfast, a loving hug. As I’ve aged I’ve come to appreciate them more deeply. But the thing about earthly pleasures, simple or otherwise, is they are all momentary and fleeting. Eventually the coffee will grow cold, the night will grow long, the hug must be released. And as enjoyable simple pleasures may be, I don’t think they make up for the various ways we may suffer either. Live, laugh, love is a glib response to loneliness or grief. It’s simply not enough.

God wants more for us than pleasure. As Augustine points out in one of his sermons on the Psalms, God makes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust alike. So God, in his profligate liberality, gives wealth, health, and beauty indiscriminately. To the point we may wonder why some people are so blessed in the earthly pleasure department. But God reserves the greatest gift for those who fall in love with him, his own presence, the power of his grace, and true joy.

Today is Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday in Advent. Gautete is latin for “rejoice!” Traditionally we’d light the rose candle on the advent wreath, and meditate on the joy of God in the midst of waiting. Today I want to reflect on the joy God gives us. Joy that is more than a simple pleasure. While pleasures come and go, we can truly “rejoice always” as Paul exhorts. We can rejoice always because the source of joy is not in ourselves, but it is the work of God. Our joy is in the gospel.

In our Old Testament reading for this morning Isaiah says, “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Jesus would quote this scripture for his first sermon at Nazareth. The sermon was very short and simple. He simply sat down and said, “these words are fulfilled in your hearing.” 

Jesus is the anointed one, the messiah, who bears good news. He is the gospel in flesh. Gospel, of course, meaning good news. By Christ we receive good news, we are released from the bonds of sin, and we are given true liberty. We are set free to know the love of God. By the blood of his cross the price is paid, by his example and teaching we know the way that leads to life, by his grace we may be built up. “They shall build up the ancient ruins” Isaiah says, we may think of this as our hearts burdened and conquered by sin, “they shall repair the ruined cities.” 

As God promised restoration to the people of Israel, he promises restoration for us as well in Christ. The healing of our hearts, and the healing of our communities. As God restored Israel to Zion, we too may be restored in Christ and know the joy of salvation. As Isaiah says, “I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bridge adorns herself with her jewels.” We may rejoice not simply that our sins are forgiven, but that God desires to clothe us in righteousness, to adorn us as his own. Salvation is not bandaging up a wound. Salvation is truly healing the wound. 

Surely no greater gift has been given. The infinite life of God, shared with us in Christ.

In less than two weeks it will be Christmas. I have already packed presents under my tree. I put a lot of care in the presents I purchase. I want them to be meaningful, somewhat surprising, somewhat joyous, and perhaps a little more expensive than they should be. I get joy from sharing joy. I, of course, also get joy from getting presents too.

The joy the gospel gives is analogous to the joy we feel when we receive a gift. The gospel, the good news of God, is always being announced to us in the word of God and in prayer. Daily we can be reminded of the greatest gift of them all: Christ and the life he brings. An eternal life that can be experienced and known in the here and now, because Christ calls us in the here and now and wishes to make us his own today and tomorrow, and hereafter.

The joy of the gospel, then, is greater than the simple pleasures of Christmas because it is grounded in the promise of God. The joy we feel is our response to having received the great gift. The gift of God’s promise. Of God’s presence. Of the Holy Spirit. A gift far greater than any of us deserves. A gift that washes away our sins, transcends our loneliness, and makes us one in Christ. A gift that elicits joy, joy that can be known in all circumstances.

Gathering- Comfort

Gathering: Comfort

God’s Comfort Surpasses All Understanding

Isaiah 40:1-11

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 6, 2020

A Charlie Brown Christmas has been on network television for the Christmas season for 54 years. The majority of Americans do not remember a time before that depressing little tree and Hark the Herald Angels Sing. But this year Apple bought the rights to all the Peanuts specials, and so A Charlie Brown Christmas will only be available by streaming. I’ve heard a lot of people bothered by this move. For them watching A Charlie Brown Christmas was a tradition. Buying the special on DVD isn’t enough, it’s about gathering that evening and watching the special with the advertising. It’s about being connected to past memories. It’s about the comfort of knowing no matter what’s going on in the world, the tree will be decorated, Linus will give his monologue, and the kids will shout “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!”

This season is full of sentimental comforts like A Charlie Brown Christmas. We do not watch Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town for the plot or great acting. We don’t fear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer won’t make his way back to Santa. And we don’t worry that the Grinch might, this time, steal Christmas. These specials remain because they remind enough people of their childhood. And for that they are comfortable. The Hallmark Channel has made an empire telling the same story over and over because it’s a comfortable story, no one’s ever afraid the girl might not settle in to the small town with the man of her dreams and celebrate Christmas together.

Christmas specials, old carols, hot chocolate, the warm glow of the lights on the tree, we make Christmas a sentimental season of comfort. But to be honest with you, I don’t know if I can watch enough of It’s a Wonderful Life to get into that sentimental Christmas spirit. Not even Die Hard can do the trick. Maybe for a blip, maybe for a moment, but we are in a Christmas like no other. This is a Christmas where we need hope more than nostalgia. Where we need a different sort of comfort than the warm glow of sentimentality. We need a comfort that can only come from God.

This morning Isaiah says, “Comfort, O Comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” God speaks “comfort” and I think we all long to hear that this morning. A comfort that comes from forgiveness. The comfort of a tender parent. The comfort of God’s lovingkindness, tender heartedness, and mercy.

Last week I spoke of the power of sin, and how sin is not just a matter of doing bad things but sin also comes with a consequence. Sin alienates, it divides, it tears us apart. Ancient Israel experienced this aspect of sin. They turned from God to idols, they turned from justice to injustice, they turned from righteousness to sin, and they were torn apart. They were scattered. They were made to stand alone in a strange land. They experienced exile.

But in spite of it all God speaks “comfort.” A comfort that is not just feeling better about our experience of exile, but the end of our exile. “A voice cries out: ‘in the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, And all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”

A highway! For the exiles this highway was from Babylon to Jerusalem. All the obstacles in wilderness were to be done away. The uneven ground made level, the rough places a plain. Their exile was to be undone, the shackles of their oppression broken, they were to be made God’s people again. Not on any account of their own righteousness, or the things that they did, but on account of God’s righteousness and God’s love for them.

This same word may be given to us today. We too may know the comfort of God. A comfort that is greater than a warm blanket or a hot chocolate or a Christmas special. A comfort that not only makes us feel better, but a comfort that makes our lives better. The comfort of God’s grace that would draw us back to him. The comfort of God’s forgiveness, of his love, and of being united with him with his family.

God’s plan for sin is not to leave us scattered, not to leave us in the exile of sin. But God’s plan for sin is to break it and to bring us back together in him. That is why he sends his son, whose coming we celebrate this Christmas. To draw us together, to die for our sake, that we might live in him.

Keep Alert

Gustave Doré

“Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.” Mark 13:33

The season of Advent has traditionally been set aside to meditate on the last things. In Advent we await the coming of the King. We wait, therefore, for the end. So we tend to think about that end, what it’ll be like, what it’ll look like. Many of our scripture readings assigned for advent concern the last days when Jesus will come again. They prophesy the day of the Lord, the sky turning dark, the moon turning to blood, and council us to be alert and ready for the day Jesus will return.

We have had a lot of end times expectation the past how many years. Whether it be The Late Great Planet Earth or Left Behind, many Christians have speculated on when the end will come, what it’ll look like, and whether Jesus’ return is immanent. How ironic, then, that the Bible itself, Jesus himself, is so adamant that we will never know the day or the hour. Jesus is to interested in imparting to us a blueprint for history. As if we could relax until the final few days and really get ourselves prepared. Jesus wants us to stay alert all days. We do not know the time. We may see the signs of the times, but those signs are often with us. So we may always be warned that the day is near.

Speculation can be fun, but we shouldn’t let it interfere with our walk with God. Who cares if you’re right about the events surrounding Jesus’ return if you spend your time obsessing over the events surrounding Jesus’ return and not being a disciple of Jesus Christ? There is one thing needful, as Jesus says, and that is to cling to Jesus in faith. What matters is staying alert, staying in prayer, and serving God and others.