Weekly beauty: A special "Hallelujah Chorus"

You may have heard about the October 30 "random act of culture" (aka flash mob) organized by the Opera Company of Philadelphia.

They gathered 650 vocalists to surprise shoppers by singing Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus" from the Messiah at Macy's in Philadelphia, accompanied by the famous Wanamaker organ.

I really want to stumble upon one of these flash-mob performances someday!





Happy New Year! May it be full of beauty!

More Christmas prettiness

More pretty Christmas touches from some of my churches, both from Christmas Day worship.


Gol, including Pastor Marv at the pulpit reviewing his sermon before worship.










First, inlcuding my little last-minute contribution of the blue fabric around the creche. We decided the wall was too empty, so I thought this might be a way to suggest a stable using materials we already had. I was pretty proud of myself, I must say!

No place like home

When I finished the marathon Christmas weekend (three days, six services), I got to visit my parents in my hometown for the first time since July. It's been delightful to catch up with my parents and some friends, and to relax without the demands of my own place distracting me. Here are a couple of the details that especially caught my eye on this visit.


The nativity set my brother made in Sunday School lo those many years ago. He had a teacher who was extremely talented in sewing, needlework, and crafts of all kinds. I just think it's adorable. And you don't have to worry about breaking it!




The fireplace and mantle, with the recent addition of my great-grandmother's clock. Also note the cute little tomte and reindeer and the ubiquitous hand-print wreath that every parent probably has. Not sure if those are my hands or my brother's.




Great-grandma died about 15 years ago, and my great-aunt and uncle have had this clock since then. They recently passed it along to my parents. It's pretty and the chimes sound beautiful.




Even Sami seems to be feeling lazier than usual, if such a thing is possible. She's found a couple favorite perches, including here on the back of the couch. And she looks pretty much like I've looked for the last couple days: half-asleep and not to be disturbed in her relaxation.




I hope you got to indulge in some post-Christmas hibernation as well!

Sunday at Dennison

I was scheduled to preach this week at Grace in Nerstrand (which I did) and at Vang in Dennison. But Vang met jointly with their partner congregation, Dennison Lutheran Church, which is no longer part of the internship program. So I got to preach at Dennison, which I don't normally do. It was fun to meet some of the Dennison folks, and it's a pretty little building. Check it out.

As at Grace recently, someone offered to include me in a picture, so here I am again.

December 26 sermon

Text: Matthew 2:13-23 and Hebrews 2:10-18
Preached December 26 at Grace Lutheran Church in Nerstrand, MN and Dennison Lutheran Church in Dennison, MN

I hope you got to worship on Christmas Eve. I hope you got to share in the great celebration of our Savior’s birth. I hope you got to hear about the baby born in a stable and laid in a manger—“the little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.”

The beautiful words of that familiar story are a sentimental favorite for many of us. Luke’s story of Jesus’ birth is enacted year after year by children around the world. And, of course, it is immortalized by Linus in the classic Christmas special, A Charlie Brown Christmas.

That’s the story of Christmas we so love to hear, and I hope you got to hear it. It’s important to keep hearing and telling that beautiful, familiar story.

But Matthew reminds us today that the sentimental story we love so much is not the entire story of Christmas. Matthew presents us with some harsh reality. King Herod sees this new baby Jesus as a threat to his power, and he will do whatever he can to prevent that threat from gaining strength. Who knows how many innocent babies died at the hands of an insecure and ruthless ruler?

Sadly, this, too, is part of the story of our Savior’s birth. To be sure, there were shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night, and there was a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and proclaiming the good news of Jesus’ birth.

But Matthew reminds us that the shepherds and angels were not the only ones involved in this story.

We also know the story of Jesus’ birth is not the entire story of our Savior. The story of Jesus the baby merely begins the story of Jesus the Messiah. And this story will culminate in his passion, death, resurrection, and ascension. This baby will grow up to suffer and die.

This is not part of the Christmas story we like to talk about, is it?

I wrote in my December newsletter column about the film Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. In it, there’s a scene in which Ricky Bobby leads his family in a mealtime prayer, repeatedly addressing God as “Baby Jesus.”

“Dear Lord, Baby Jesus…” he prays, because he likes the Christmas Jesus best, he says. And maybe we do too. Christmas is a little more “warm and fuzzy” than many other festivals of the church. And a baby in a manger is much cuter and easier to understand than a suffering, dying, resurrected, and ascended Lord.

This week I wrote a blog post that included a video of the wonderful Christmas carol, “What Child Is This?” It’s one of my favorites, primarily because of the second verse: “Why lies he in such mean estate, where ox and ass are feeding? Good Christian, fear, for sinners here the silent Word is pleading. Nails, spear, will pierce him through, the cross be borne for me, for you. Hail, hail the Word made flesh, the babe, the son of Mary.”

It’s a confession of the incarnation—of God becoming human in Christ in order to save us. This baby will grow to bear the cross—for me, for you. This is the good news of the Christian story, even at Christmas!

But I probably screened 10 or 12 YouTube videos before I found one that included the second verse. It seems no one wants to talk about the cross at Christmas time. Yet there it is, looming in this baby’s future.

This world is a broken and messed-up place. It’s a place where kings kill babies and our Messiah ends up on a cross. And still Christ came to us. Here, in the midst of the brokenness, in the midst of the chaos, the sin, the evil, Christ came to us.

In the mess of a barn and the earthy reality of human birth, Christ came to us. The elusive, invisible, incomprehensible God became tangible, understandable, and relatable as a human being like you and me. Nothing is too messy for God. In Christ, God comes to his people. In Christ, God pursues us, mess and all.

We know the human experience includes more mess than just barns and birth. To be human is to suffer, one way or another. Or, perhaps more accurately, one way and another. We all know sorrow, pain, and grief, in their many forms.

And, in Christ, God knows these things as well. We heard in our second reading, “Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” Jesus Christ is Emmanuel—God with us. And he is with us always, even—or perhaps especially—at our lowest points.

In Christ, God joined us in our suffering. In Christ, God made himself vulnerable to all facets of human life, including the suffering and death that awaited Jesus on the cross. And God continues to suffer with us, for we too are God’s beloved children!

It was not in vain that Christ suffered with us on earth, and the biblical writers want to be sure we know this. We heard from Luke on Christmas Eve that the angels proclaimed the good news of Christ’s birth: “to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” To you comes this news. To you comes this Savior.

We heard in our second reading today from the writer of the letter to the Hebrews: “Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death.”

In Christ, God comes to us with a purpose! He comes to us to destroy the power of sin, death, and the devil, freeing us from fear to live anew! In Christ, God shows us that he is on our side—that he is for us. And nowhere is God more for us than in the cross of Christ.

In Christ, God acts out of love. Sometimes we imagine God as distant, uninvolved, unattached. But the incarnation turns that idea on its head! Jesus’ joining in our humanity proves to us that God is not impassionate or unconcerned. On the contrary, God is revealed as a loving parent who steps right into his children’s lives!

In Christ, God shows us that he thinks we’re worth loving, in spite of our sin and brokenness. God shows us that he can’t help but reach out to us in love. God shows us that that he desperately wants all people to know his love.

One of my professors, David Lose, recently wrote a book called Making Sense of the Christian Faith, which includes a chapter on the incarnation. In it, he recounts a fairly well-known story that might help to illustrate God’s loving purpose in sending Christ to live among us. You may have heard it before, but let me share it with you anyway.

I’m not sure who wrote this one. It’s about a man, a farmer who never went to church, even though his wife did regularly. Well, one cold and blustery Christmas Eve, after his wife had again pleaded with him but couldn’t convince him to come with her to church, he was reading comfortably by the fire when he heard a thudding against the windows of their house.

He looked out and saw that sparrows, trying to get out of the cold harsh wind and attracted by the light and heat inside, were crashing into the windows of the house. He covered the windows, but that didn’t work.

So he decided to put on his coat, gloves, and hat and go out and open his barn doors wide so the birds could find sanctuary there. But they wouldn’t come in. He put the lights on, but they didn’t come. He spread a trail of cracker crumbs, but they wouldn’t follow. He tried to shoo them in, but that only frightened them more.

“If only,” he thought, “I could become a sparrow for a little while, I could lead them into the barn to safety.” And in that moment he realized that’s what Christmas Eve—the story of God being born as a human—was all about.

The farmer realized that, in Christ, God comes to us in a form we can recognize and comprehend, so that God can communicate with us, show us the way we should go, and ultimately save us.

That really is what it comes down to, isn’t it? In Christ, God saves us. David Lose says in that same book that the incarnation is about God’s promise—a promise of new and abundant life, a promise that God is fundamentally on our side, a promise that death will not have the final word, and a promise that God will never give up on us.

Jesus came to us in the messy complexity of our broken world in order to free us from sin and give us eternal life. This is God’s promise to us, and God keeps his promises. In Christ we have the embodiment of that promise. Jesus is the tangible promise of God, because embodied people need embodied promises.

And so God still comes to us with tangible promises—embodied in water and word, in bread and wine. Still God meets us in our messy lives. Here, in the midst of the brokenness, in the midst of the chaos, the sin, the evil, Christ comes to us. In the midst of our suffering, in the midst of our sorrow and pain and grief, Christ comes to us. When we come to the table, God meets us in physical form, right in the midst of whatever mess we may be facing.

Here God bestows his grace on us over and over again, bringing us forgiveness of sins, new life, and salvation. Here God promises over and over again that Christ came for us, suffered and died and rose again for us.

Here we learn over and over again that God is ultimately on our side, and if God is for us, who can be against us? Not murderous kings, not anything in creation, not even death itself. In Christ, God comes to us, and no mess is big enough or deep enough to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Merry Christmas!

Unto us a child is born!

Wishing you peace and joy now and in the new year!

Merry Christmas!





Nativite a la mandorle jaune (Nativity with a yellow mandorla) by Macha Chmakoff

Weekly beauty: "What Child Is This?"

I would have preferred to highlight an artist I haven't already featured, but I screened 10 or 12 videos on YouTube, and it seems no one wants to include the second verse of this wonderful carol. But the second verse is a primary reason why it's one of my favorites!

It's the verse that speaks to Incarnation--the Word made flesh who will bear the cross "for me, for you." Apparently no one wants to sing about the cross at Christmastime, which I touched on a bit in my December newsletter.

At any rate, enjoy this version of the carol, entitled "What Child Is This, Anyway?"

Christmas prettiness

Just a few pictures of the beautiful Christmas touches around some of my churches. Enjoy!


Dale








Grace (They made me be in the photo!)




Trinity (basement)




Holden (basement)




First (basement)

Beautiful hospital

I accompanied one of my pastors on a visit to St. Mary's in Rochester last week. It's part of the Mayo system that dominates downtown Rochester. (Photos from another building here.)

St. Mary's by itself is a massive building (I think I heard it has over 18 miles of hallways), so I was glad I wasn't on my own! Check out a few pictures, and better panoramic views at their site.














One of my great-grandmothers used to clean at St. Mary's, and she lived nearby, so I felt a tiny personal connection with the place.

As usual (in my limited experience, anyway), the visit itself was an honor. It is a privilege to proclaim the gospel to someone who is so hungry to hear it, and a joy to hear it proclaimed right back to you by the same person!

Christmas festivities of every kind...

It's Christmas party time 'round these parts! Perhaps you can relate. One of the joys of this internship is getting to celebrate holidays and special occasions with several different groups of wonderful people.

The Holden ladies' group kicked it off with their dinner a couple weeks ago. It was partly just to celebrate and enjoy fellowship, partly to thank the men of the congregation for all they do throughout the year, and partly to gather the Christmas gifts they had collected for a local family, which you see below.








The ladies of Dale held a lunch and gift exchange the same week in someone's home. (It was postponed a day due to one of our many recent weather incidents--this one was ice). I forgot to take pictures, which is quite unfortunate, as it was a Christmas wonderland! By the way, we ate tater-tot hotdish at both the Holden and Dale events. Yum.

The Gol and Grace ladies each had respective Christmas gatherings planned as well, and they were both canceled or postponed, one on the icy day and one on the blizzard weekend. I certainly hope we get to gather sometime soon!

This past weekend was full of fun! Saturday morning, the Trinity ladies held a brunch/tea in someone's home and it was delightful. Again with the sadness of no pictures...the table was so lovely! An assortment teacups and pretty little lace napkins and all things girly and fun.

Saturday afternoon, I hung around the Hegre Christmas program practice, which they had invited me to weeks ago. I got a kick out of the holy chaos inherent in every Christmas program, in my experience. You've got the kids with stage fright, the overly-exuberant kids, the kids who have to go potty at the worst times. And also the well-prepared and enthusiastic kids, of course. And most of the kids switch between these roles several times over the course of the rehearsal! Here's the group singing one of their songs.





Saturday night (event number three--full day for me!) I joined the staff of the Dennison-Vang parish for dinner at the Hubbell House. It was a pleasure to spend more time with folks I mostly see just briefly before or after worship every few weeks. It was also nice to meet some of the Dennison folks I don't work with, as Dennison is not part of the internship group this year.

Sunday morning, I led worship at Trinity, and the choir proclaimed the word in the form of a terrific cantata. Well-chosen, well-prepared, well-performed. When it started with "Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones," I knew we were in for a great ride! Here's the lovely and talented group.





Finally, I joined the folks of First Lutheran for an afternoon of carols and desserts. We got to sing a wide variety of Christmas songs and hymns, from "Deck the Halls" and "Rudolf, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" to "Once in David's Royal City" and "Infant Holy, Infant Lowly." So much fun! Here's the pretty set up...maybe not the most exciting picture* but I love a nice Christmas centerpiece!

I think that's it until Christmas Eve itself--always a joyful worship experience!

* I hesitate with photos of people. I don't want everyone to start hiding when I show up, for fear of ending up online! One particular person has already adopted a refrain of sorts: "No blog!" Said person has reason to be suspicious, because s/he provides lots of material for highly entertaining posts (which I haven't shared...yet), but I would hate to cause paranoia among the innocent!

Advent at First

I've already told you about the delightful fireside Advent services at Trinity on Wednesday nights. I'm also lucky enough to have extra opportunities for Advent prayer: compline on Tuesday nights and vespers on Thursday nights, both at First Lutheran.

Compline is prayer at the end of the day; vespers is evening prayer. I am coming to love these daily prayer offices more and more all the time! Advent is such a rich and perplexing season that it's nice to have as many opportunities as possible to reflect on its holy mysteries and what they might mean for us. It's even nicer to do it in community.

Then there's the extra bonus of learning! This week I led compline on Tuesday and learned how to use incense on Thursday, both new experiences for me. At the beginning of the season, I helped Pastor Luther turn the chancel into an Advent wonderland, an adventure involving hauling in trees in the aftermath of an ice storm.

See the evidence of the melting ice on the carpet:

But look how beautifully it turned out!

Here's a closer view of the trees, votives, and banner. The banner changes each week of Advent, as the seedling grows into a flower and eventually blooms.

And the Jesse Tree made by the eighth-grade confirmation class.

Weekly beauty: Isaiah and Advent

This week, one of my favorite passages of scripture, Isaiah 9:2-7,always the first reading for Christmas Eve in the Revised Common Lectionary. And for some visual interest, Advent wreaths from a few of my congregations (Vang, Dale, and Grace, respectively).

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;

those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined.

You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy;

they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest,

as people exult when dividing plunder.

For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders,

the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian.

For all the boots of the tramping warriors

and all the garments rolled in blood

shall be burned as fuel for the fire.

For a child has been born for us, a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His authority shall grow continually,
and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness
from this time onward and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

December 15 sermon

Text: Matthew 11:2-11
Preached December 15 at First Lutheran Church (after December 12 services were canceled)


Grace and peace to you from God the Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

So the weather has been a little frustrating lately—have you noticed? I think I’ve had eight different events canceled so far this season, starting with a youth trip in mid-November when we got that wet, slushy snow.

I was looking forward to preaching at First English in Faribault Saturday night, and here on Sunday, but neither of those services happened, of course. It’s so disappointing to be cheated out of a Sunday of Advent, when there are only four to begin with!

This time of year is often full of disappointed hopes and unfulfilled expectations, isn’t it? Maybe we have our hearts set on a particular Christmas gift, but it doesn’t appear under the tree. Maybe we’re determined to recreate a treasured family recipe, but our lefse or meatballs or cookies never seem to turn out quite like Grandma’s.

Maybe we have a detailed vision of what our holiday gatherings should be like, with the whole family together and lots of laughter. But then bad weather keeps us apart, or illness or conflict smudges the rosy picture we had painted in our minds.

Yes, there’s a reason this time of year can be stressful for many of us, and a lot of it has to do with expectations that just don’t play out the way we want them to.

I think John the Baptist was dealing with some unmet expectations too. He sent his followers to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” It sounds to me like John was experiencing a little uncertainty about who Jesus really was.

Jesus wasn’t quite fitting into John’s concept of what the Messiah would be like. John was facing a pretty stark reality. Judea was under Roman occupation. John himself had been thrown in prison by the Roman-appointed leader of the region.

In fact, he was about to be executed. And whether he realized that or not, John must have suspected that things would not end well for him. Calling people vipers and condemning their sin didn’t win him any friends among the elite and influential.

John may have been expecting a Messiah in the grand tradition of King David. A Messiah who moved in powerful circles and had influence on society. A conquering Messiah who would end Roman rule and restore Israel’s independence. A Messiah who would judge righteousness according to the law and dole out punishment accordingly.

Jesus wasn’t fitting into these expectations very well. Jesus was moving outside the system of social power, eating and drinking with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus was healing and forgiving and proclaiming salvation to everyone who believed in him, even the outcast and unclean. Jesus was declaring people righteous on the basis of their faith in him, in spite of their failures and faults.

Jesus’ answer to John was unexpected as well. John asked a simple yes or no question: “Are you the one who is to come?” Are you the Messiah or not?

But Jesus, true to form, didn’t give a simple yes or no answer. Instead, he pointed to what was happening. He pointed to his own work: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.”

Jesus opened the eyes of the blind in a literal, physical sense. Jesus also opened the eyes of the blind in a metaphorical sense. “Look around you,” Jesus says. “Extraordinary things are taking place and I am making them happen! There is a new reality being born in your very midst, and I am at the center of it. Look and see!”

And Jesus goes on to say, “Blessed is the one who is not offended by me.” Jesus fulfills his role on his own terms, according to God’s will, not our expectations.

Blessed is the one who trusts me to handle things my way, Jesus says. Blessed is the one who knows she is in good hands with me. Blessed is the one who can let go of his expectations and allow me to meet his needs instead.

That’s really the key, isn’t it? Jesus the Messiah may not meet our expectations, but he does meet our needs. Those who have eyes to see and ears to hear can recognize the kingdom of God come near in Jesus.

But, often, we are too weighed down with our heavy day-to-day reality that we fail to see Jesus at work in our midst. Often we are so caught up in our expectations of the Messiah that we miss the Messiah who is actually moving among us.

And it’s not surprising, is it? The world is a painfully broken place. There’s a lot to be concerned about and caught up in. War rages around the globe. Oppressive dictators strip citizens of basic human rights. Children die every day from starvation and AIDS and a host of other diseases.

Families and individuals struggle to maintain adequate food, clothing, and shelter. Even locally, there are angel trees for Christmas gifts all over the place. And many of the tags I’ve seen ask for necessities like socks and other clothing, or pots and pans for cooking.

We all have friends or loved ones facing physical or mental illness, addiction, isolation, grief, or family conflict. Many of us have dealt with these things ourselves, and perhaps continue to do so.

We may not be facing imprisonment and impending execution like John the Baptist was, but our reality can also be quite bleak at times. So what are our expectations amidst this reality? What are we looking for in the Messiah?

Well, I generally want a Messiah who makes things clear and simple. Give me a checklist to follow and let me be in control of my own destiny. I don’t want my Messiah meddling too much or trying to be too intimately involved in my life. After all, then he might see all the weaknesses I’d rather keep hidden.

I want the consequences to be predictable—keep the checklist and you’re good with God; break the rules, and you’re in trouble. All my little slip-ups here and there can surely be overlooked, but those “other” people who do really bad things should get what’s coming to them.

On the other hand, I also want my Messiah “on call” for emergencies. Sometimes it just doesn’t work to do things my way, and my Messiah should be ready and able to clean up my mess when I ask him to!

This is not the Messiah we get in Jesus Christ, is it? Jesus doesn’t meet our expectations any more than he met John’s.

What we get in Jesus Christ is not a distant Messiah who leaves us to our own devices or lets us hide from him. This is not a Messiah who smoothes out life so it’s always clear and simple. Instead, this Messiah joins us in the messy complexity of human life. This Messiah seeks us out. This Messiah comes to us—as a baby in a manger, of all things.

The picture of humility—parents who were nobodies and literally “born in a barn.”
The picture of vulnerability—what could be more helpless than a newborn?
The picture of intimacy—God himself dwelling among us, becoming one of us and sharing our experiences.
The picture of impossibility—how can 100% God + 100% human add up to just one person?

What we get in Jesus Christ is a Messiah who showers us with grace that we cannot comprehend, control, or deserve. A self-sacrificing Messiah who suffers death on a cross to forgive our sins, make us righteous, and reconcile us to God. And all on the basis of faith in him and nothing else, for surely we can never follow our beloved checklist as well as we wish we could.

What we get in Jesus Christ is a Messiah at work among us even now, opening the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf, cleansing the leper and making the lame to walk, raising the dead and preaching good news to the poor.

We could all tell stories of amazing healing in the face of terrible odds. We all know people who have experienced some kind of new life—freedom from an addiction, restoration of a broken relationship, a surprise gift when the bank account was dangerously low. This is the kingdom of God come near.

What we get in Jesus Christ is a Messiah who is present with us even when it doesn’t look like it. Just as we all know people who have experienced healing, reconciliation, and provision, we also know people for whom these things have not happened. People for whom there seems to be no good news, but whose suffering continues unabated. Where is the Messiah for these people?

Well, this is that “messy complexity of human life” we just talked about. In Christ, God’s kingdom comes near. In Christ, God himself comes near. God is even—or perhaps especially—in those places where we have the most trouble seeing him. Jesus Christ is Emmanuel—God with us. This Messiah shares our experiences and suffers alongside us.

And there’s more. This Messiah brings us good news of a joyful future, where all God’s people will be healed and restored. Even those who find no healing in this life will share in the glorious future this Messiah promises. Did you hear the words of Isaiah which described it so beautifully?

“The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom….And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”

Joy, strength, healing…justice, safety, homecoming! All this our Messiah promises to us! What a glorious hope we have in him!

So in Jesus Christ, we might not have the Messiah we expect. This Messiah does not come only as a conqueror, like John expected. He does not leave us to our own devices or let us hide from him, as we might sometimes wish.

In Jesus Christ, we have a Messiah who seeks us and knows us. We have a Messiah who forgives, restores, and suffers with us. We have a Messiah who opens our blind eyes and replaces our limited expectations with an unlimited vision of joy and peace.

This Messiah does not meet our expectations at all! Indeed, he far surpasses them and meets all our needs instead. Thanks be to God! Amen.