A Case of Invisibility

Luke 4:16-30

And Jesus said,“Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown.”  --Luke 4:24

The past few days, I have been suffering from a case of invisibility.  It’s happened to me before.  Just the other day, a delivery truck seemed to think the lane I was in was empty.  At least, that’s what it seemed like when he tried to put his truck in the same space I was occupying.  Fortunately, I was able to swerve to miss him.  It happened again yesterday, except, this time, it was a old, already dented mini-van.  Then, I stopped by a restaurant for breakfast and, though they weren’t busy and servers were milling around, no one came over to seat me.  Several seemed to look right at me!  Or, should I say, through me. Invisible.  I finally managed to catch the eye of a guy in the very back of the restaurant, who found someone to get me a seat.

Sometimes, I think we all get a little oblivious to the things going on around us. The truck driver may have been thinking about getting home a little early.  The driver of the van may have been rushing to pick up kids from school.  The servers, tired from a busy morning rush, might have relaxed their vigilance in the slower pace of mid-morning.  

When Jesus visited his hometown of Nazareth, the people saw Joseph’s son who had built a reputation as a healer and teacher.  But, they couldn’t see any deeper than that.  They seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was more than just Joseph’s boy.  Distracted by their familiarity with Jesus, his identity as God’s Son and his true power were invisible to them.  Matthew’s Gospel tells us that Jesus “didn’t do many deeds of power there, because of their unbelief.” (13:58) In Luke, Jesus snubs their desire for miracles and reminds them that the purview of God’s interest is broader than the hometown crowd. It didn’t end well.

Life can distract us too. We miss important things like the car in the next lane, or the presence of the Son of God in our midst.  Familiarity might breed contempt, but it also can breed a certain kind of obliviousness. It’s hard to see the prophet – a messenger from  God -- in the hometown kid.  Our vision of God’s life changing, expectation challenging, prophetic presence and power can get blurred by the familiarity of church life.  Sometimes those on the outside of our communities of faith – like a Sidonian widow (1 Kings 17:8-16) or a Syrian general (2 Kings 5:1-19) or a Millennial young adult who doesn’t go to church or a person from a different culture or the poor, or the captives or the blind or the oppressed – can see God’s activity in the world clearer than those of us who hang out in churches and synagogues.

We should do more to listen to them.  Not try to run them off a cliff.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading. Pray that God might open our hearts and our minds, our eyes and our ears, so we can see God present and working in the world around us.  

Empty Jars

John 2:1-11

“They have no wine.”  --John 2:3

Six empty jars. 120-180 gallons of air.  Disaster in the wind.

“They have no wine.” Mary said to her son, her face pleading for him to do something to save the wedding banquet and the honor of the host.

I feel like there are a lot of empty jars these days.  Disasters in the wind.  The government shut-down continues, and talks are going nowhere.  Families are trying to figure out how to live without paychecks and the impact is being felt in many sectors of our common life. Churches continue to decline and can no longer sustain ministry, and yet are unwilling to even consider change. It’s depressing and frustrating. A few weeks ago, I was at a conference where we were discussing climate change and the bleak predictions for life in a much less stable ecosystem.  There are still things we can do, if we had the will, to mitigate the damage…  but not the damage has already been done. And that’s just three of the empty jars I see in the world around me.  I have always been a “jar half-full” optimist, but it seems like every day that perspective gets harder to maintain.

Like Mary, my prayers these days often plead, “Lord, we have no wine!” 

And then I remember the promise of the Prophet Isaiah,

On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples

a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines,

of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.

And he will destroy on this mountain

the shroud that is cast over all peoples,

the sheet that is spread over all nations;

he will swallow up death forever.

Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces,

and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth,

for the Lord has spoken.   (25:6-8).

It was a promise spoken at a particularly difficult, empty jar period in the life of God’s people.

And I remember another mount called Golgotha, where Jesus died at the hands of human brokenness, and violence.  A bleak moment that scattered all of Jesus disciples except a few of the women, and seemed to crush all the hopes Jesus engendered in people. An empty jar moment if there ever was one!

But then, there was the empty tomb, that became the symbol of the fullness of life.  An empty tomb that proved that God’s life is stronger than death, and that God’s love is more powerful than hate, and that there is nothing in all of creation -- in heaven or on earth -- that can separate us from that love.

Proof that God does not abandon God’s people.  Ever. Proof that nothing in heaven or on earth can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus; that empty jars can be filled with water turned to wine.

As I look at the world around me, I admit, I don’t know how God’s going to do that, but I am confident that God can and will.  I can’t always see it happening but, I get glimpses now and again in the little acts of kindness, small miracles of compassion and quiet words of undeserved forgiveness and mercy I witness and observe.  And that’s enough to fill up my empty jars with the good stuff.  That’s enough to me keep working to proclaim and live out the Good News of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection in my life. I don’t know where the future is going, but the vision of the Risen Christ is enough to make me certain that, wherever we are going, God will go there with us…  just as God always has.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  Just keep praying…  and loving in the Way of Jesus…  and working for justice and peace in Jesus’ name.  

A Holy Fire

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

“He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”  –Luke 3:16

The campfire crackled in the center of the rusted steel ring that marked the boundaries of the fire pit. The red and blue flames danced on the crisscrossed oak logs, a collection of deep orange embers growing below the clumsy wood pyramid.  My family sat in lawn chairs circling the fire occasionally sliding left or right to avoid the smoke as it shifted in the faint breeze. The smoke always seemed to like me best.  Quiet conversations passed between the adults as the children poked at the burning logs with branches and watched leaves curl up in the flames.  Our dog lay curled up at the edge of the warmth.  

I have always loved camping and have many fond memories of summer nights spent with my family and friends around the campfire. The fire bound us together somehow.  Connected us.  Touched at some primal memory of our ancestors gathered around the flames to tell the stories that gave their people meaning, and hope and purpose. 

But fire has another side, doesn’t it?  The pictures of whole towns destroyed in the California wildfires this past fall were gut-wrenching.  I vividly remember the smoldering remains of our church in Wayne, NE on the day after lightning burned it to the ground.  Fire destroys. It is no respecter of people or property.  Its flames can bring destruction and death as easily as they can bring warmth and light. 

Baptism destroys the old life of sin and death, and raises us up to new life.  Baptism binds us to one another as siblings in Christ. Baptism purifies us, separating wheat from chaff.  Baptism connects us to the old, old stories of God’s steadfast love and mercy, and to the death and resurrection of Christ.  It is a fire poured out with the water, the Holy Spirit of God that washes us and burns us and blesses us on our journey from life to death to life. Baptism is a campfire and a forest fire and a lightning strike in a bowl or a bath.  

But, to ask a good Lutheran question, “what does this mean?”

It means every day is a new day.  Baptism, you see, is not just a once-in-a-lifetime event.  Baptism describes a relationship between us and our God, a relationship bound by the Holy Spirit and fire, and established and sealed by Christ.  Every morning the chaff is burned away, we are washed in the promise of Christ’s forgiveness, mercy and compassion, and set free to be forgiving, merciful and compassionate as we move through the day.    

There is a candle on my prayer table that I light every morning as I settle onto my cushion to listen for the still small voice of God.  A little light in the darkness.  A bit of warmth in the cold.  A reminder of the Holy Spirit who will walk with me through the day, sustains me when I struggle, and sometimes burns me too.  A reminder of the community of faith I was baptized into through Christ.  An imperfect community that carries the perfect love of God for me, and for all the world.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

I pray that all those effected by disasters of every kind might know the warmth of the Holy Spirit, the presence of our compassionate Messiah and the power of our loving God.   Thanks for reading.

A Team Sport

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.  And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

--Colossians 3:12-14

It’s Bowl Season! This weekend the major college football bowl games will be played, and I am happy to say that “my” team is still in the hunt for a national championship.  While I was never much of an athlete (OK, I was never an athlete at all), I have always been a fan.  Baseball and football are my favorite sports to follow.  As a loyal fan, I have watched “my” teams go through championship seasons and years when wins were hard to come by.  I have watched star players come and go, and coaches get hired and fired.  But the best seasons are the ones when the team is playing as a team, where each player is playing his or her role to the best of their ability, and when everyone seems to “click”.

I have always believed that Christianity is a team sport.  OK, it’s not a “sport.”  It is a way of life.  But, stick with me for a minute.  Christian faith is a way of life that is meant to be lived together in community. The church is a team tasked with sharing Christ’s love and grace with the world in word and deed.  But, sadly (in my opinion), for many people today, doing the Christian faith in community seems optional.  That approach to the faith has never made sense to me.  It’s like trying to play football by yourself.  You can do it, but it is not nearly as much fun (trust me, I’ve tried).  

I understand that the church can be a tough place.  We have alienated and hurt many.  I have been an eyewitness to some pretty awful behavior in congregations! Sometimes the “team” is clearly not clicking.  I pray that God’s healing, forgiveness, mercy and reconciliation pour down on those places. I pray that God would send them whatever they need to become the caring communities of love and hope God intends them to be.

This week’s passage from Colossians is one of my favorite descriptions of what it means to be a community of faith, what it means to be Christ’s Church.  The whole passage turns on love: our love for one another shown in compassion and forgiveness, and God’s love for us, experienced through word and worship and thanksgiving.  The whole passage turns on Jesus, whose way of life should be our way of life, guiding and informing all that we say and all that we do.   It is the summary of the playbook for the Christian “team.”

If we lived up to the picture painted of the Church painted by Colossians, we would definitely be in the hunt for the championship every season!  Of course, as fallible, imperfect human beings, we rarely live up to the “perfect harmony” Colossians describes.  But, ultimately, we know that every season will be a winning season. Why?  Because we have the life of Jesus, the power of the Holy Spirit and the never failing love of God on our side.  And, for that, we can truly give thanks.

Peace,

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading! May God bless you in this new year!  

A Quiet Power

Luke 2:1-20

This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”

--Luke 2:12

Infant holy, infant lowly, for his bed a cattle stall;

Oxen lowing, little knowing Christ the child is Lord of all... 

In January of 1990, I visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.  Because of violence in the area, we weren’t sure we were going to be able to visit the traditional birthplace of Jesus, but, the guns fell silent for a moment and we were able to slip in.  The Church of the Nativity is an interesting place.  The large main entrance doors were, for the most part, blocked up in the Middle Ages to keep marauding Crusaders from riding their horses into the church (so we were told).  You have to stoop to get inside the narrow opening that was left unblocked (unless you are short like I am).  The sanctuary, as I remember it, was cold and stark.  But, the grotto beneath the church, which tradition says, marks the place of the manger, is warm and beautiful and filled with flickering candlelight.  We only stayed a few minutes in the quiet, womblike place before our guide hurried us back to the bus.  The guns had woken up in the hillsides around the little town. It was time for us to go.

To this day, I am always awed by the contrast of the child born in a cattle stall to be Lord of all. Awed by the Prince of Peace born into a world so frequently torn by gunfire, violence and bloodshed.  Awed by the quiet power of the small, peasant child who grew up to challenge earthly and heavenly principalities and powers and defeat their machinations by dying on a cross and rising again on the third day.

This morning, as my daughter and I were watching a retrospective of 2018 on one of the morning news shows, I heard again the reverberating sound of the gunfire in the Bethlehem hills.  Except now, the sound of violence was echoing through schools and nightclubs, on city streets and synagogues; in the cries of hatred for those who are different because of the color of their skin, or their religion or their place of origin.  Like the Holy Family forced to walk the 80 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem by the decree of Caesar, refugees and immigrants still wander across the globe due to decisions and actions of principalities and powers beyond their control.

More than ever, we need the quiet power of the child born in the manger!  More than ever, we need this sign of God’s presence with us, accompanying us and dying for us in a dangerous and divided world.  More than ever, we need this sign that God’s love and life truly are stronger than all the violence and hatred perpetrated by the principalities and powers that appear to be in control of our worlds.  More than ever, we need to be reminded that, as people of faith, we walk in the quiet power of the Christ-child and participate in God’s work of reconciling us to one another and to God.

…Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, praises voicing, greet the morrow:

Christ the child was born for YOU!  Christ the child was born for you!  

Blessed Christmas,

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading. This Christmastime, pray for that peace which passes all human understanding to be born in the hearts and minds of all people, and might grow among the peoples of the world.

Fruit is Better Than Sweets

Luke 3:7-18

Bear fruits worthy of repentance!  --Luke 3:8

Since being diagnosed with type 2 diabetes years ago, I have pretty much given up desserts and have learned how to enjoy fresh fruit instead.  At first, I missed the cookies, cakes, and ice cream.  Fruit seemed like such a weak alternative.  But, today (with the exception of chocolate chip cookies) I’d rather have fruit than sweets.  I almost always have apples, pears, little oranges, and strawberries – which are my favorite -- in my fridge.  Fresh fruit is not only good for you, but good too. 

In the wilderness, John calls the people to turn away from the “sweets” the world offers and back to God. The world tells us that we are defined by the sum of our possessions.  The world tells us that cleverness is to be valued over honesty. The world tells us that we should never be satisfied, always wanting for more.  In the economy of the world wealth, power and privilege are valued above all else.  

But, God’s economy is different.  Turning back to God leads to a different kind of fruit.  Fruit that is not only good for you, but good too.  The “fruits worthy of repentance” may not satisfy the sweet tooth of the world, but are the source of good relationships, strong communities and healthy lives.  

Hearing John’s call to bear fruits worthy of repentance, John’s listeners ask, “What then shall we do?” John identifies three fruits that come from being in relationship with God: generosity, honesty and satisfaction.  

Generosity is lifted up as a value throughout the scriptures. Generosity connects us to others, gives our lives meaning and a sense of purpose and builds up those around us. That’s pretty sweet fruit!  

In my experience, people who are honest are more relaxed, less defensive and more open to engaging the diversity and variety of the world around them.  They aren’t constantly trying to cover their tracks, work the angles and cover up their dishonesty and lies. The fruits of honesty are integrity and trustworthiness…  and that tastes pretty good, especially in a world where these qualities seem like rare fruit. 

Learning how to be satisfied with who you are and what you have does not mean we shouldn’t work for just or fair wages, or accept the reality of poverty in our world, or that we shouldn’t strive to better ourselves.  It does mean that we can live free of covetousness, envy and obsessive yearning for what we do not have.  It means learning to be exactly who God created us to be.  Nothing more and certainly nothing less.  Enjoying the fruits of satisfaction contributes to a life lived in the present without constantly dwelling on what could have been or scheming to bring about some future glory.   

John calls this good news. And it is.  The fruits of generosity, honesty and satisfaction that John envisions are embodied in the life of Jesus and are gifts of the Holy Spirit who is always at work cleaning out the chaff from our lives.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  I pray that you will discover the fruits of generosity, honesty and satisfaction this week!

Mountains and Valleys

Luke 3:1-6

Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low…  --Luke 3:5 (Isaiah 40:4)

I don’t remember many of the sermons I have heard over the years (including the ones that have spilled from my mouth).  But, one sermon I heard in college has always stuck with me.  It wasn’t the sermon so much as the image my campus pastor painted of a world where valleys were filled and the mountains and hills made low to make way for the love of God in Jesus Christ.  I remember the dramatic way he swept his large, soft hands back and forth to show the level place God would create for all peoples to stand together.  For the healing of the nations.  For the healing of broken, suffering and oppressed people everywhere.  For the healing of each and every one of us.  My campus pastor didn’t just preach this hopeful message with his lips, he lived it.  He was regularly working in our community to break down the barriers that separated people and to lift up the lowly and the outcast.  He wasn’t perfect.  Not by any means.  But, he showed us what it looks like to live out our faith in concrete ways in the real world in spite of our own brokenness.

I have always appreciated the way Luke anchors the story of Jesus in the real world.  He prefaces the story of Jesus’ birth, “in the days of Caesar Augustus…”  He begins the story of John’s ministry “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius…”    Luke wants us to know that the story he is telling is no fairy tale. Luke wants us to understand clearly that John and Jesus carry out their ministries in the messy, rough and tumble world of politics and religious institutions, not separate from them.  While Jesus says his Kingdom is not of this world, his proclamation of God’s Reign had real-world implications and led to real-world confrontations with the powerful people of his day.  As Jesus proclaimed God’s valley filling and mountain leveling love and grace for a hurting world, his message challenged the principalities and powers who always seem committed to digging the valleys and erecting the mountains that keep people apart.

John the Baptist came to remove the barriers that kept people from hearing and experiencing Jesus’ Good News.  As we think about the world around us, what barriers do you see that get in the way of people experiencing the healing love of God?  Where is there need for the healing of the nations today?  For the healing of the broken, suffering and oppressed people of our world?  For healing you and me?  How can we, as followers of Jesus Christ, work together to fill up some of the valleys (or even a few potholes) and level a few of the mountains (or just knock over some sand piles) that get in the way of Jesus’ Gospel here in our real world where politics and religion can still be awfully messy?

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  Pray for our political and religious leaders.  But, even more, let your faith inform how you speak and act in your “polis” (Greek for “city-state,” the root word of “political”) where you live.