Wild Word of the Week: Christmas

Karen

Kirsten

Wednesday Witness: The children of St. Paul's Church

Sometimes God comes to us in the words of children.  Enjoy this Wednesday Witness from the children of St. Paul's Church in Auckland, New Zealand.  Merry Christmas!

Tuesday's Text--Luke 2:22-40

The Gospel for the First Sunday of Christmas is Luke 2:22-40.

Rembrandt, Simeon's Song of Praise (1631)

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord ²³ (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), ²⁴ and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons." 

²⁵ Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. ²⁶ It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah. ²⁷ Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, ²⁸ Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, 

         ²⁹ "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; 

         ³⁰ for my eyes have seen your salvation, 

         ³¹ which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 

         ³² a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." 

³³ And the child's father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. ³⁴ Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, "This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed ³⁵ so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed-- and a sword will pierce your own soul too." 

³⁶ There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, ³⁷ then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. ³⁸ At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. 

³⁹ When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. ⁴⁰ The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.

What surprises you in this text?

What questions do you have?

How does it apply to you/us today?

"Light Shines in the Darkness"--A Christmas Devotion

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 

-John 1:5

Music: "Light Shines in the Darkness" by Dakota Road Music
Photos: Rev. Kirsten Fryer

Bishop Hanson's Christmas Message

A Christmas message from Bishop Mark Hanson, Presiding Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

Wild Word of the Week: Love

Barb

Kirsten
(with a Happy First Anniversary shout out to Jo & JP)

Jan

Christmas ornament stories

I picked Our First Christmas Together as my favorite ornament because it is the prelude to the story that unfolds about our family as I look at all the other ornaments on our tree. Our first home, baby’s first Christmas x 2, precious ornaments made by tiny hands, family vacations, our pets over the years and ornaments that represent our favorite things and the love and laughter that we share. Each year we add another chapter to our family story by adding a couple more ornaments. It has been 25 years since we hung Our First Christmas Together ornament on our tree. We have truly been blessed.

Karen Meier









Trying to choose just one is really hard!  I decided to share this one because there is something about its sweet simplicity that I truly love.  The box it is stored in has "To Kirsten, From Santa 1989" written on it in my childhood hand.  I have hung it on many Christmas trees since then, in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and now Ohio.  We have lots of hand made ornaments or ornaments that remind us of special occasions or vacations, but this one is a simple little reminder of what Christmas really is all about.  "O Come, let us adore him..."


Pastor Kirsten






























We'd love to see more!  If you have a photo and story to share, please e-mail me at pastorkirsten(at)gmail.com!  

Wednesday Witness: Lauren F.

Tomorrow, my baby sister turns 18.  I'm feeling very emotional as she reaches this milestone and can hardly believe that 18 years since she entered our world have so quickly passed by.  Forgive me for being incredibly schmaltzy, but that's kind of where I am today.



When Lauren was baptized, Hans Peterson (now of Dakota Road Music, then the Youth Director at our church) sang the song "Welcome to the Wonder."

Most every morning I look deep into your eyes and I can see
all the beauty of creation, all the mystery
And when I see your face I feel God's living grace right here with me
and it lifts me up and leads me on when I am weak

Chorus:
Welcome to the wonder my child
You give us life with every smile
I hope you feel our love is real
as you live the wonder of it all

Oh when I hear you cry I don't need reasons why, I just hold you
'cause there's nothing more important than to see you through
And when I hear your laugh I know I could not ask for something more
than to share with you the love that we are living for (Chorus)

I know I can't explain all of the senseless pain that falls so near
though I greive I still believe we should not live in fear
I'm hoping as you grow, with everything you know that you will see
It's in giving to another that you will be free (Chorus)

Tag:
I hope you feel God's love is real
as you live the wonder of it all*

Our family at Lauren's baptism

As we sang that song, I was just 11 years old, I had no idea where God would lead either of us.  The idea of being a pastor hadn't even crossed my mind and I had no clue just how amazing it would be to watch a sister grow into a beautiful young woman.  She had not yet made me laugh so hard my belly would hurt; she had not yet pushed my buttons as no one else can; she had not yet moved me to tears with her compassion and gifts.  But, somehow, I knew that she was welcomed into the wonder of this amazing world God has given us.  And somehow, she would make her mark.

As she has grown, she has, on countless, occasions pointed out the wonder of creation.  She has marveled at rainbows and water and frogs and rocks and sunsets.  She has reminded us to keep our eyes peeled for the simple things in life.  The tree she planted from the little maple tree helicopter stands tall and strong in Mom and Dad's backyard, a living witness to her hope for creation.

In 2000 & 2001, I sang with Minnesota All State Lutheran Choir and Lauren sang in 2010 & 2011.  We both have incredible faith stories that come from this experience, but one of the most memorable was the first time I stood next to her to sing "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," the song that we sing every year and alumni are invited to join.  That profound statement of faith was made even stronger as I stood next to my little sister, who has been taller than me for several years now, and held her hand.  Together with the forty or so other singers, we sang our faith, lending our voices to that harmony achieved only by many voices coming together.

Our family at my ordination

As her own faith is nurtured, she nurtures mine.  Her passion and energy and excitement give me so much hope.  She is a witness to the ways God is working in the world.  I can't wait to see where life takes her and I pray that she will continue to see God at work in the world, and point others toward that most-grace-filled of gifts.

Happy birthday, little sister.  Thank you for the gifts you bring and the witness you are.  I love you.














*Words and Music by Larry Olson & Karol Baer
©1992 Dakota Road Music.

All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.

  

Tuesday's Text--John 1:1-14

The Holy Gospel for Christmas Day is John 1:1-14.

John Frontispiece: The Word Made Flesh (John 1:1-14) from the St. John's Bible

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being ⁴ in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 

⁶ There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. ⁷ He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. ⁸ He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. ⁹ The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. 

¹⁰ He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. ¹¹ He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. ¹² But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, ¹³ who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. 

¹⁴ And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

Is there anything you see for the first time today?

What's comforting in this text?

What's surprising?

How does it speak to you (or us) today?

A reflection on Luke 1:26-38 for the Fourth Sunday of Advent

Listen to the reflection.

Sometimes I wonder if the familiarity of this story makes us lose track of the ordinary and extraordinary in it.  Sometimes I wonder if we’ve become so used to the “Let it be with me” that we miss the “do not be afraid.”  Have we become too used to the end of the story that we forget the power of the rest of it?

First, a little background.  Mary is a teenager.  She’s really young.  She’s engaged, but not yet living with her betrothed.  She’s poor.  She lives in a po-dunk town.  By the standards of the Roman Empire that ruled her little province, she’s a nobody.  She’s not someone anyone of status or importance would pay attention to.   But one day, completely out of the blue, an angel shows up and calls her favored.  I imagine her internal dialogue to be something like “Really?!  Favored by whose standards?”  I don’t blame her for being perplexed.  Because, really, what kind of greeting is that?  “Greetings, favored one!  The Lord is with you.”  This is the greeting of the past.  This is the greeting of the Scriptures.  Does this stuff really still happen?  Perplexing for certain.  Worth a ponder, indeed.

The story goes on, of course, with Gabriel bringing the message that she will bear a son, by the power of the Holy Spirit, and she will name him Jesus.  And Mary’s response, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; Let it be with me according to your word.”  But let’s back up for a second.  Before any of that amazingly faithful response had come from her lips, she is called favored.  The angel tells her that the Lord is with her.  To this ordinary young woman, the extraordinary is proclaimed.  You, poor young woman from a backwoods town, are favored.  And God is with you.

I don’t know about you, but I think I forget about the power of those words sometimes.  I forget just how incredible they are to hear.  Favored one.  God is with you.  And I forget that I shouldn’t really be surprised because stuff like this happens in Scripture all the time.  God is constantly coming to the lowly, ordinary, plain Janes (well, mostly Joes) and bestowing blessing upon blessing on them.  Abraham and Sarah.  Hannah.  David.  Jeremiah.  The list goes on and on.  When we remember the stories of Scripture, we remember that God does that.  God comes to the ordinary ones and expects great things from them.

But surely, that doesn’t happen any more, does it?  I haven’t heard any credible reports of angel appearances lately.  But I’ve seen God working in normal, everyday people and doing great things.  I’ve seen evidence of the ways that God’s ordinary people, sometimes in teeny-tiny ways, recognize that they are, in fact, favored.  They are in fact called to be something in the world.  To do something out of the ordinary and, by doing so, shine light on the extraordinary and amazing presence of God in this world. 

I’ve read stories of strangers paying off layaway balances at K-mart stores.  I’ve heard reports of hot meals delivered and blankets made.  I’ve seen outsiders welcomed.  I’ve heard the story being told through storybooks read to grandchildren and music sung.  I’ve seen couples married for years walking down the street hand in hand and new moms tenderly nursing tiny babies.  I hear stories of children returning home for the holidays and parents eagerly anticipating the arrivals.  It’s in these moments, these plain, ordinary events, that God in all God’s glory shows up and blesses us.     

As we move from Advent into Christmas, we hear again the amazing story of shepherds watching in the fields by night.  We hear about a young couple seeking refuge in a barn because there was no place for them in the inn.  We hear about some supposedly wise men who drop everything to follow a star for many, many days and end up finding a newborn king wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.  At its heart, this is a story of ordinary people setting aside expectations of grandeur to see God at the heart of what makes us human.  Life.  In all its messiness.  In all its blood and smells and dirt and muck.  And even while coming to us in that, still finding it in God’s self to call us, as confused and perplexed as we are, favored.  

This is our story.  It’s beautiful and amazing and full of grace, isn’t it?  That we who are so often confused, so often distracted by the hustle and bustle, so often perplexed by the mystery of God are favored.  That Mary, a lowly, poor teenager is called favored before she even speaks a word.  That she is chosen to bear the son of the Living God.  And that from her blessing, we are blessed.  We are favored.  We are called.  We are saved.  It is the extraordinary, breaking into every single moment of every single day, into the ordinary.  It is our story and our saving grace.  Thanks be to God.  Amen. 

Wild Word of the Week: Joy

Carol

Barb

Karen

Emily

Kirsten

And a "joy" video bonus shared via Facebook by Jen:

A hope "bonus"

Tenney's new favorite activity is walking through Tappan Square to "hunt" squirrels.  We don't let her off the leash, but she certainly enjoys trying to get to them.  This afternoon, she watched this white one for about 10 minutes.  I was going to use it for my joy photo tomorrow, but then decided it was really more about hope.  Hence, a hope "bonus."  

Hope is like that sometimes, isn't it?  Persistence.  Watching.  Waiting.  Pulling at the leash.  Planting our heels into the ground when someone says its time to give up.  Ah, the lessons our dogs teach us.

I am looking forward to tomorrow's joy photos!

Wednesday Witness--Jason C.

Today's Wednesday Witness is a guest blogger, sort-of.  It's actually a re-post from my friend Jason's fabulous blog Faith, Interrupted.  Enjoy!

What We Want for Christmas

One of the reporters for our local newspaper called the church a few days ago, asking for an answer to the question, "What Do You Want for Christmas?" - from a church's point of view. This is what I wrote back:

All we want for Christmas is the recognition that Christ came for more than gold holly and green wreaths. Christ came to turn the world upside-down - to bring about the kingdom of God on earth. Now. And this kingdom is one of radical equality: where our worth is measured in who our Creator is, not how much is in our 401(k) plan.

And so, our answer is pretty different than our two front teeth. If anything, we believe a community of Jesus-followers would answer the question, "What do we want for Christmas?" in good Christian fashion: by realizing that it's not about us, and pointing the way to a place outside of us, and into the world God so loves.

So, in a way, it's not what WE want, but what we believe GOD wants - a place where we'll be known by our love for our neighbor. And our "neighbor" is more than other Christians, or those whom it's easy to love. When we take seriously the command (not the suggestion) to love our neighbor, it means loving our homeless neighbor, our addicted neighbor, our mentally challenged neighbor...

...all those who receive assistance at the Edgerton Community Outreach or find a safe place at the Non-Toxic Teen Center...

...and it means supporting those places with gifts of time, money, and prayer.

It also means not spending all our time complaining about trying to keep the word "Christ" in the word "Christmas" - and, instead, trying to BE Christ this Christmas (as this fantastic article mentions). It means celebrating Christmas, not by seeking to eradicate the apparently horrific greeting, "Happy Holidays," but instead by seeing God in every face and caring for the world God made.

Community Sing Along--Messiah

On Sunday evening, we attended the Community Sing-Along of Handel's Messiah.  It was sponsored by Credo Chamber Music and the Conservatory.  It was absolutely delightful.

The solists were students from the Conservatory.  They were all so amazingly talented.  The orchestra was made up of Conservatory students, people from the community, and Credo alumni.  The TrueNorth Chorale was on stage, but the audience was also invited to be a part of the chorus.  We could either sit by section or in a mixed section in the middle.  There were students there and elderly residents and everyone in between.  Some people carried in their much loved Messiah scores, others rented them from the school by making a donation to MedWish International.  We sat near the back of the mixed section.  Justin listened.  I sang.  

I'll admit that I am a bit rusty.  But I managed to get through (I missed a few...okay most...of the sixteenth note runs, but I followed along) and it was such fun.  Around us were people who had clearly sung this piece many, many times.  Others were, like me, a bit more hesitant.  But it worked.

As we reflected on it later, Justin pointed out that we actually sounded really good.  It's one of the perks of living in a town where music is a core.  People move here because of the Conservatory and its offerings.  But what was particularly touching about this night was that it wasn't just about going to listen to professional musicians, or those training to be.  We did that, but our own gifts were encouraged, as well.  Along with those amazingly talented soloists, we sang our little hearts out and we sounded good.  Sure we could have polished those sixteenth note runs (I forget how many are in that score!) a bit more, but we did it.  It was heartwarming.

On Sunday night, a group of people who love to sing (and listen) gathered together and told a story.  We told a story of anticipation, and a story of birth, a story of death, and a story of resurrection.  We told the Biblical story, through music.  It wasn't perfect, but it was beautiful.  It was beautiful because it wasn't perfect.  It was beautiful because it was a bunch of people who came together and shared their gifts, making music that no one person could perform alone.  

On Sunday, a sing along of the Messiah gave us a glimpse into God's kingdom.  A place where strangers came together and were encouraged to participate.  A place where people used their gifts to tell the story of Christ.  A place where we tried our best, and even though it wasn't perfect, it was beautiful.  And at the end of the day, isn't that what it's about?  Telling the story to the best of our ability and remembering that it isn't always about perfection, as much as it is about coming together and trying our best.  And in doing so, letting the light shine through the darkness and hearing, once again, that glorious story that gives us life and hope.  An Advent gift, indeed.

  

Tuesday's Text--Luke 1:26-38

The Holy Gospel for the Fourth Sunday in Advent is Luke 1:26-38.

Leonardo da Vinci, The Annunciation

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, ²⁷ to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. ²⁸ And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." ²⁹ But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. ³⁰ The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. ³¹ And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. ³² He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. ³³ He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." ³⁴ Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" ³⁵ The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. ³⁶ And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. ³⁷ For nothing will be impossible with God." ³⁸ Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.

This is a fairly familiar text.  As you read it today, are there any surprises?

What questions do you have?

What don't you understand?

How does this apply to you/us today?

A response to "Americans: Undecided about God?"

Yesterday's New York Times included this editorial.


I read it yesterday and it's kind of been rolling around in my head ever since.  Some of the claims make me really sad.  Claims like this one, "All we see is an angry God. He is constantly judging and smiting, and so are his followers."  I don't know about you, but that's not the God I experience.  It's not the God I preach (I hope!), nor is it the God I see the Scriptures pointing to.  No, in Scripture, I hear God pouring promises upon promises upon God's people.  Promises like the ones we heard yesterday from Isaiah 61, "I will make an everlasting covenant with them" and from First Thessalonians 5 "The one who calls you is faithful."  With the psalmist, I know a God who is "gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love," who is "good to all and his compassion is over all that he has made" (see Psalm 145:8-9).  I know a God who comes to us, whose name is Emmanuel, which means God-with-us (Matthew 1:23).  This very God is the one who eats with sinners and calls a bunch of rag-tag disciples who don't really get it (see pretty much every disciple story in Mark).  And while there are definitely some times where Jesus gets mad, it's usually for good reason, and is balanced with the many, many times he shows us the way to God's grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love.  With John, the writer of Revelation, I live into the promise that "the home of God is among mortals," that "God himself will be with them, he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more...." (Revelation 21:3-4).  Sorry, Mr. Weiner, but I think you need to read your Bible a little bit more, perhaps with a different eye--one that can help you see God's compassion and grace and mercy that are showing up constantly throughout Scripture.


Now, I can't speak for all of my Christian brothers and sisters, and I know that I'm not blameless, but we're not all judging and smiting, at least not all of the time.  One of my favorite moments of the church is when we come together at God's table for Holy Communion.  When we all come with our own baggage, whatever that is, and receive forgiveness.  When we come in no particular order, but all find a place at the table.  Where there's food for everyone and no one gets turned away.  


I also catch glimpses of the ways God is working in really amazing ways in and through and around us when we work together to do something good in the world--whether its volunteering in our community or on a Mission/Adventure trip, or by visiting an elderly member of our congregation, or filling bags for Food for Kidz, or whatever it is we do.  I see God working in the ways we care for one another and for complete and total strangers.  I see God working through us in really amazing ways that aren't judgey or smitey at all.  Yeah, it makes me sad that there are really nasty things that people do, claiming to do them in God's name, but I don't think they really understand God's message for the world.  I don't think they understand that what God requires from us is, as the prophet Micah wrote, "to do justice, and to love kindess, and to walk humbly with your God."  Sure, there's plenty of nastiness out there, but there's also a lot of really positive stuff.  A lot of people trying their best to love God and love their neighbor.  And, no, it's not always easy and we don't always succeed. It doesn't always get the most attention, but we do it because it's the way Jesus taught us to live.


Weiner also writes that "Precious few of our religious leaders laugh. They shout."  I think laughing is really important.  It's one of my favorite things to do with people.  I think laughing helps keep us whole.  I love laughing with the people at church.  I love laughing at silly jokes and those "kids say the darndest things" moments.  Laughter is good medicine.  I hope I can be included in this "precious few."  But most of the pastors I know laugh.  A lot.  And so do most of the Christians I know.  Maybe I'm hanging out with a unique crowd, but I don't think so.


At the end of the article, Mr. Weiner writes this:

We need a Steve Jobs of religion. Someone (or ones) who can invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious. Like Mr. Jobs’s creations, this new way would be straightforward and unencumbered and absolutely intuitive. Most important, it would be highly interactive. I imagine a religious space that celebrates doubt, encourages experimentation and allows one to utter the word God without embarrassment. A religious operating system for the Nones among us. And for all of us.

I don't disagree that we need space where doubts can be discussed, where experimentation isn't a bad thing, and where God is front and center.  But isn't that space called church?  I'm serious.  Maybe I live in some crazy dream world, but isn't that what church is about?  Isn't it a place where people gather in the name of the Triune God, so unafraid to proclaim God's name that they gather around a table and eat a meal that is given to us by Christ?  Isn't it a place where people are so unafraid to proclaim God's name that they bring their children to be baptized, promising to help them grow up to be people who trust God, and proclaim Christ through word and deed, who care for the world God made, and who work for justice and peace?  Isn't it a place where people gather around God's Word with their questions and their doubts and their insights?  Isn't it a place where we, while deeply rooted in Word and Sacrament, can experiment and try to figure out the ways God is still working in and through and around us?  Isn't that what church is all about?  That's certainly my hope and goal as a "religious leader," otherwise known as a child of God.


I don't think we need a Steve Jobs of religion.  We already have Jesus.  And he's Savior enough.  For all of us.

A reflection on Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 for the Third Sunday in Advent

Listen to the reflection.

Bring clothes that can get dirty. An important part of the packing list when we go on Mission/Adventure trips.  Whether we’re working in gardens or on painting projects or cutting up chickens at soup kitchens or playing with kids, we anticipate that we’re going to get a little messy.  It’s part of the fun.  It’s part of the adventure.  I also go in with the hope that our clothes won’t be the only things that change.  I also hope that we, the ones doing the work, will be changed...by the people we meet and the conversations that we have and the realities that we see in this world.  I hope that we see the messiness of the world--the injustice and the hunger and the hopelessness--and are moved to make a difference.  To do something that works toward God’s promised future--where good news is proclaimed to the oppressed and broken hearts begin to feel healed and the promise of liberty is heard and those who are held captive know that release is possible.  It’s part of what I understand as our calling as Christians and it is one of the greatest privileges I have--to be on the front line to see the wheels turning in the heads of our kids--the thoughts beginning to form--“It doesn’t have to be this way and I want to do something to make a difference.”

When this text from Isaiah was written, God’s people were frustrated.  They had returned to Jerusalem from exile.  They expected to restore the city to its former glory.  To rebuild the temple.  They had hoped that economic disparities would be corrected; that the factions--both religious and political--within the city would work together, for good.  And it wasn’t happening.  It wasn’t happening fast enough; it wasn’t really happening at all.  In exile they had grandiose visions of their return to the holy city.  They had hoped for so much.  And it just wasn’t happening.  The injustices remained, the temple was not yet restored.  They were losing hope.  They were losing sight of the promise given to them by God.  And, in the midst of that, a promise breaks through.  In the midst of the messiness and disappointment and frustration, a promise is given to bring good news, to bind up, to proclaim liberty, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, to comfort, to provide, to give the accoutrements of gladness, rather than mourning.  

Something really cool happens in the text year here.  If we count the “to’s”--infinitives for you grammar geeks out there--there are seven.  And in the Old Testament, seven is a number that symbolizes completeness.  With these seven promises, those who heard this way back would have heard a promise that God would do everything to comfort and liberate, to restore and bring to completion.  Even in the midst of their losing hope and their frustration, a promise broke through that God wasn’t done yet and that God would continue working to bring everything to completion--to usher in a day when those who mourn are comforted and broken hearts are healed and liberty is not only proclaimed, but enacted.  When that which belongs to someone is restored to them and the oppressed hear good news and mourning turns to celebration.  God will do everything to make this happen.

This is really good news.  It’s really good news that we yearn for.  It’s really good news that, if we’re really honest, we want to see come to it’s completion.  Because, while we certainly see glimpses of these things happening, we also yearn for the day when it is true, really, wholly fulfilled.  Even as we look to Christ and dwell deeply in faith that this promise has been made true, we still look around and realize that is one of those already and not yet promises.  We trust that it is fulfilled and we wait for it to be fulfilled.  We live in this in-between time, catching glimpses of its fulfillment, yearning for completion.  

I suspect I am not the only one frustrated by the news.  I’m saddened by news of famine and curable diseases claiming too many lives.  I’m disheartened by the devastation of creation.  I’m disappointed in leaders and in the ways so little seems to be done for those who need food and water and shelter and justice now.  I’m frustrated by the ways that some see faith as something that is useless and silly, and by the ways others use it to harm and hurt those on the “outside.”  I’m impatient and I’m sick of waiting.  In this Advent season, I desperately yearn for the fulfillment of God’s promise that these injustices and disparities will come to an end.  That good news will be brought and the mourning will be comforted and the prisoners will be released from whatever it is that holds them.  The song “Lost in the Night,” asks in a haunting way “Will that day come soon?”

Maybe it’s the anticipation of Advent, maybe it’s the way the news seems to be an endless stream of hopelessness, but the yearning for this promised new day is forefront in my mind today.  And so I keep reading and see “for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness.”  As one commentator wrote, “A new future is possible because...God has provided the appropriate work clothes.”(1)  It’s a kick in the pants.  Stop sulking in the muck of the world and pull on the work clothes that God has given you.  Get ready to get dirty.  Start confronting those messages of despair and hopelessness and start proclaiming a better message.  A message that is filled with hope and promise.  A message that is true not just for some far off, distant, pie-in-the sky future, but for today.  The truth is, God has given us the work clothes.  Don’t we say in baptism we are clothed in Christ?  We are given a commission to shine light in the darkness--not our own light, but Christ’s.  We given a message to proclaim to a world that needs it so desperately--not our own message, but Christ’s.  We know a promise that resonates deep within us and it begs to be told.  A message where the captives are freed and the brokenhearted healed and the mourning comforted.  A message of hope and promise.  A message for today.

Though we think of that baptismal garment being white and pure, the truth is that those work clothes God gives us are meant to get dirty.  They’re meant to get the stuff of the world all over them as we pull them on and proclaim the message--with our hands and feet and from deep within our hearts--that God’s reign has already come.  That God’s promise of mercy and justice is for now.  That God has given us the tools to work for justice, to bring good news, and to free those held captive by injustice, or disease, or despair.  In Christ, we are made free.  In Christ, we are given hope.  In Christ, we are given what we need to do the hard work of ushering in a kingdom that has already, but not-yet, come.  

Where you see a need, address it.  Where you see despair, proclaim hope.  Where you see a broken heart, do what you can to mend it.  Where you see chains, unbind them.  Where you see darkness, proclaim good news.  Christ has given us the clothes.  It’s our job to go get them dirty, and in doing so, we see the light of Christ shining brightly on this new day.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

And a little video bonus:  "Lost in the Night."

(1) Elna K. Solvang on www.workingpreacher.com for 12/11/2011

Wild Word of the Week: Peace

of the week:
PEACE

Josh

Barb

Kirsten

Next week's

**A little Wild Word of the Week note: Photos do not have to be taken during this week, although that is certainly encouraged.  If there's a photo that jumps to your mind when you see the word, send that one!  We love to see the variety!**

"O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree"

On Sunday night, Justin and I had our first dinner party since my arrival in Oberlin.  Though it was not totally necessary, I really wanted to get our Christmas tree up before everyone arrived.  So on Sunday afternoon, we decorated the tree (which had, admittedly, been standing sans lights or decorations in its place for a few days).  It's always fun to put up the tree and, perhaps because I'm in a new home, I was especially nostalgic while putting up the ornaments.

Our tree is a mix of ornaments we have collected together over our four plus years of marriage, a few of his, and a few of mine.  We try to remember to pick up some little ornament when we go on trips or a trinket that can easily be made into one.  Most, though not all, of the ornaments have stories--either because they came from someone, or somewhere, special.  Like many Christmas trees, ours becomes a way to tell stories of our past, to remember those we love, and to celebrate the joy that this season brings.

Justin suggested an Advent exercise of telling ornament stories.  So, dear reader, here's your assignment: Take a photo of your favorite Christmas ornament and send the photo to me, along with the story.  I'll post them as they come in.  And I promise to include one of my own...I just have to figure out which story to tell.  May this be a way to help us remember the ways that God has worked in and through those around us, blessing us with sweet memories, and giving us hope in this season of anticipation of the coming of our Lord.

Wednesday Witness: John Frederick Oberlin (1740-1826)

The other day, Justin and I took the dog for a walk and he had a very specific place he wanted to go.  "I want to show you my favorite piece of art on campus," he said.  We walked through the quad to a little stone pillar, with a dedication to the school's namesake, John Frederick Oberlin, who was a pastor in Alsace, France.  "I wonder if he was Lutheran?" Justin pondered, "Alsace is the German part of France."  Which, of course, got me thinking.

John Frederick Oberlin
(image from Oberlin College's website)

So with a little bit of Google searching, I found out that Oberlin was, in fact, a Lutheran pastor.  He was a passionate advocate of education, and worked tirelessly for the benefit of his parishioners.  He "practiced medicine among them, founded a loan and savings bank, introduced cotton manufacture, helped the people build better roads, and brought in modern agricultural methods." The monument Justin showed me has a beautiful piece of art work, which viewed from one side is a rose and from the other is a bird.  According to the monument, Oberlin used this during his pastoral counseling to show that "people with diverse perspectives can live in friendship with one another."  


According to the Oberlin College Archives, the founders of the college had read a biography of Oberlin and were "inspired to create a new community and institution of higher learning, in what was then a wilderness, for scholars and students who wished to be of service to others and change the world for the better, as Oberlin had done in a remote region in Alsace."

Photo credit

As I get to know my new community better, it's been fun to learn this little fun fact about a Lutheran brother who witnessed from across the globe and gave the name to this community.  Although I've not been here long, Justin's speaks of the passion his students bring to the classroom, community, and world, and I suspect I will see that more and more as I have a chance to visit with students.  They continue to live, perhaps unknowingly, into the legacy set by their college's namesake.  A little known (at least to me) witness to the way God calls us to be at work in the world!