God gives us faith to proclaim

Vicar Brett Wilson – Mary, Mother of Our Lord – Luke 1:46-55 – August 15, 2010

Downstairs, in the t.v. room at my parents' house, on the back wall you will see proudly framed and carefully preserved one relic of my dad's past. It's a poster from a protest he participated in against the war in Vietnam. This sermon is not about war, but it is about protesting. Our first reading, from Isaiah, of course the psalm, and our gospel reading, Mary's Magnificat all share something in common – they're all songs. Songs.
If I had a hammer. Blowin' in the wind. We Shall Overcome. These are all protest songs. I didn't realize until I read that “This Land is Your Land” was written by Woody Guthrie as a protest song. We can probably all hum the tune – this land is your land. . . And it's not that the song isn't patriotic like we all think it is, but it is a protest song. Guthrie wrote it as a replacement for “God bless America,” which he thought was too unrealistic. But the last couple verses that are most prophetic, most protesting, are often left out. They read -
As I went walking, I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said, “No Trespassing”
But on the other side, it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the squares of the city, in the shadow of a steeple;
By the relief office, I'd seen my people.
As they stood there hungry,
I stood there asking,
Is this land made for you and me?

These more “realistic” verses of Guthrie's anthem are not too hard for us to visualize here in America today. With no trespassing signs a common sight in the city and how hotly debated the Mexico border has been lately, is there something deeper and harder about singing those words – this land is made for you and me – or do we think we should get to choose who the “you” is? East Point, Georgia, made the news this week because 30,000 people lined up in the streets to apply for a voucher to get help paying rent. This story, maybe not on such a scale, could take place here in Lancaster. And right here in Lancaster seeing 100 or more line up for the community meals couldn't we echo Guthrie's tongue in cheek last verse – As they stood there hungry – I stood there asking, Is this land made for you and me?
Mary's song is our gospel reading for today, and I think it is important that we take note that she sings. Singing takes a passion and power that changes our words, and Mary's too. But consider with me for a moment, that Mary's song here shares much with protest songs. A protest song is a song which is associated with a movement for social change. This is what Mary's song is. She is calling in social change. After all, couldn't Mary's song be the protest song of those people weighed down by their rent in Georgia and in Lancaster – couldn't she sing with them - “God has brought the powerful down from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” And for those who wait in line for community meals or for those people I saw when I visited India in January waiting for water trucks so they could just get their container filled, Mary sings with them “God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
We might picture Mary, at least in part, as this submissive, quiet, motherly, serene figure, and of course, always with the blue veil, imprinted in our minds by hundreds of paintings and Christmas pageants. But Mary's song, the testament of her faith inspired by the Holy Spirit and proclaiming God's action – there's nothing timid about it. And in many ways, it's a protest song. It's not about politics, but it is about justice. And yes, justice sometimes gets political. Mary's faith, which was later reflected in the person and mission of Jesus, is revolutionary. It's about social change. God is about social change.
But something sets Mary's song apart from most modern protest songs. There's a fundamental difference. It is protesting, advocating social change. But it's also something deeper. Mary sings, “48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
53he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” These words do not just protest the way things are, they proclaim. This song proclaims first that God has acted in Mary's life individually. It proclaims how God has acted in the world for social justice, and in Greek the tense is like a snapshot, and can include the present. Mary is proclaiming God active in the present. She is not just protesting for social change, she is calling out God's past and current action to make that change real, here and now, in visible ways.
In the gospel of Luke Mary's song does not stand alone as a voice for social justice. In this gospel repeatedly Jesus talks about a radical reversal and leveling of fortunes. This change, social change beyond our imaginations, is real. And with the resurrection, this equation of justice is sealed once and for all, which the one who was high, lifted up on the cross so that in the end, you and I, just as lowly as the next one in the pew or on the street, so that you could be lifted up in the end. And in the end, this justice will be fully realized.
Protesting is a good thing, and we are called to do so, it's the first step to proclamation. Recognizing where social change needs to happen is the first step - protesting, and then calling God's action as you see it in that change is the second step. God gave Mary the faith to proclaim. As God gives you faith, given Mary as an example, you too can proclaim. Proclaiming is just calling out God's action where you see it in the world. You can proclaim God in what you see in the everyday – in your family, in the people you happen to meet in errands you run, wherever. Sometimes, we find it easier to remember our words when we sing them together, so we gather here each week to proclaim God active in our lives, in Lancaster, in the world. And sometimes we cannot find words to say but we know a song that fits just right – maybe it's a hymn that helps you get through your day. I have been taught that the hymn of the day is the congregation's opportunity to proclaim, pray, and preach back to the preacher.
So with the fifth verse of our hymn of the day, pray with me: Give us lips to sing God's glory, tongues God's mercy to proclaim, throats that shout the hope that fills us, mouths to speak God's holy name. Alleluia! Alleluia! May the light which God sends Fill our songs with Alleluias, Alleluias without end.

Mary, Mary

This coming Sunday happens to be August 15. August 15 happens to be the day every year when the church celebrates the festival of Mary, Mother of Our Lord. So this Sunday we will celebrate in worship this festival/feast day.

Perhaps like you, as a Lutheran I have mixed feelings/thoughts about Mary as a religious figure. My parents were both raised Roman Catholic, and that is the background of my whole extended family. Last summer I did my hospital chaplaincy internship at a very Roman Catholic Hospital, St. Mary's in Langhorne, PA. While there I went to mass at the hospital chapel every day. It was part of the experience, which I loved and learned a lot from. But often before, after, or during mass I would find my gaze drift over to my left, where a larger than life size wooden carving of Mary hung on the wall.

Mary is a complex figure. Her closeness to the divinity of Christ but also the other two parts of the trinity make her a mysterious figure. There are countless stories, traditions, and religious devotions that have developed over her since the early church. Now, people see Mary in the glass on sides of buildings, on grilled cheese, in the sun of the Mojave Desert - http://www.mt.net/~watcher/october13marymojave.html - I just saw a television documentary on this practice of devotees of the Marian movement - they take polaroid pictures directly of the sun - and claim apparitions of Mary in the rays.

I chose the image for this blog post because this stained glass image of Mary contains so many little nods and symbols and complex images - can you spot a few?

And yet, amidst the cloud of everything around her, I keep getting pulled back to what the text actually is for this Sunday - and that's what Mary says. It's her song of praise at the end of the first chapter of Luke, often called the Magnificat. This is a powerful song - what do these words say to you either within or separate from knowing Mary declares them?

⁴⁶ And Mary said,
"My soul magnifies the Lord,
⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

Peace+

Vicar Brett

the mystery of grace.

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are, but does not leave us where it found us."

- Anne Lamott, from Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith

This quote really struck me, and I really appreciate it reflective of part of the mystery of grace, but I would perhaps replace "it" with "God." What do you think?

This quote came yesterday from something else I subscribe to by email - the Faith and Politics Institute's Weekly Reflection. It's just a brief quote or little paragraph of reflection once a week. The FPI is an organization that seeks to serve Congress and citizens for reflections and conversation around faith and politics. Their logo, the dove with the capitol building inset, I think is an interesting mix of (quasi?) religious and distinct political imagery.

Peace+

Vicar Brett

Daily Bible Readings from the ELCA

One little devotional tool I really use and enjoy is that I am simply on the ELCA's mailing list for the daily lectionary bible reading. That way, every morning when I wake up, there it is in my inbox, reminding me of God's presence with me. I find that the lectionary reading for the day, which is standardized, so often seems to be just the verses I needed to read that day. It's pretty amazing.

To join, go to http://listserv.elca.org/cgi-bin/wa.exe?SUBED1=bible-readings&A=1 . Just type in your name and email address, and hit the "Join Bible-Readings" button at the bottom. This is a service of our churchwide offices of the ELCA, so of course you can trust that this is a secure site and they will not share your address or send you spam or absolutely anything other than the daily bible reading.

If you have time, and especially if you check your email daily, give it a try! It may be a good way to bring a short daily devotion and reminder of God's presence into your life.

Paths untrodden, perils unknown - sermon 8/8/10

Below is the sermon from yesterday, Sunday, August 8. It is primarily on the Hebrews text, though it also touches on the gospel text, Luke 12:32-40.
Here's a little secret - this was the second complete sermon I wrote this week!

Vicar Brett Wilson – Pentecost 11C – Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16 – Christ Lutheran - 8/8/10

I like to wake up early, but I find I am often a grumpy morning person. But I really enjoy that time, at the start of the day, on the threshold of everything and anything that might happen. I like the silence and I really enjoy the devotion of praying morning prayer, which is in the LBW. One of Martin Luther's prayers I pray often for morning prayer is on page 137, and it starts -

Lord, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, by perils unknown.

A big part of my own sinfulness, and maybe you can relate, is that I really like to know where I am going. It's not that I don't like a nice surprise now and then, but I like to be on time, I like to be in control of my path, and know what dangers lie ahead. So praying this prayer some mornings I take a begrudging sigh - “O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, perils unknown.” So reading today's text from Genesis and Hebrews, I wonder what Abraham would have thought about this prayer. He could certainly relate. Hebrews reads “Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going.”

Like many of the characters in the gospel reading for today, Abraham (and Sarah too!) were right on the threshold of big steps that would take them down paths unknown. Perhaps in recent days you have felt like Abraham and Sarah. This doesn't mean you can relate to taking a big journey, moving hundreds of miles without a set plan or idea, though maybe you can. Maybe you feel like you're standing on the threshold in a relationship, in your career, with your health, and you can't really see what's on the path ahead. When I pray this prayer sometimes it hits me in very practical ways – that these unknown paths might be – how I am going to make it through this next week and get everything done? How am I going to pay my next bill? How I am going to care for my parents when they are sick? What classes should I take – for that matter, what am I supposed to do with my life? In some ways these are hard words to hear and pray – that God calls us on these ventures where we don't know what is coming up ahead.

Often when I am reading the bible and something doesn't make sense or I come across a confusing parable, I have learned to ask myself – well who is God in this, and who are we? As we read together two weeks ago, Abraham often refers to himself as God's servant. So God is master, and we are, like Abraham and Sarah, servants, just like in the form of this prayer. “Lord, you have called your servants.” Now there's a lot of baggage that we attach with this idea of servitude, and even more when we are honest that every time it says “servant” in the bible it actually means “slave.” But ultimately, in every way, this relationship, God as master and us as servants – no – slaves, is a blessing, and it is our word of comfort for those paths unknown. Because in this relationship, who is in charge? The master. And the master is none other than the God who created you, who as promised to Abraham, is your shield, who is the architect of a heavenly city for you. This is the same master who in Luke's parable, returns home not to scold or command the slaves but instead to surprise them, reverse the roles, and stoop to serve them, just as Christ does on the cross that we may be forgiven.

Yes, God calls you to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, but the blessing here is – God calls you. God has called you and will call you and because this is the relationship, God will be with you on every step of that path, no matter how dark and unclear the road ahead might be or how many perils unfairly litter your life.

As the prayer continues, “Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us,

Faith is trust. The assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. But it also means that as we look out from where we stand, even if we cannot see what lies ahead, we know that by faith, the world is prepared, shaped, framed, by God's word. God's word, in Christ, in scriptures, in God's action in our lives every day shapes the world around us, shapes our path ahead, and how we perceive it. God gives you faith, and God gives you eyes to see little glimpses of how God's promises are surely fulfilled. In glimpses like children offering and showing their faith in prayer at a dinner table, or snack table at VBS, in the glimpse of God's kingdom of people being fed, friends forgiving each other, families coming together, even in crisis.

God gives faith, and God gives you eyes to see that even though the path ahead cannot be mapped out with any certainty, God gives a feeling of assurance, a trust in God's presence because the promise is not that the road will be easy, as it wasn't for Abraham, but that there is no turning back. That God is not ashamed to be called your God, indeed, God has prepared a heavenly city for you. Ultimately, because there is no turning back, this is where your path leads from baptism through Christ to eternal life, and this is the sure promise, along with right now, God gives you faith to go out with good courage, like Abraham and Sarah, not knowing where you might go, but that God's hand is leading you and God's love is supporting you.

So will you pray with me. Lord, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, by perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, Amen.

Peace+
Vicar Brett

on the threshold of fulfilled time

I was reading one of the commentators on this week's texts and they used this phrase that caught me - "on the threshold of fulfilled time."
All of this week's texts deal with the struggle and blessing of the concept of time. I think this is a pretty relevant theme in all of our prayer/faith lives. God's promises are sure, and we can trust them, but they're not always on our timeline.
This week's texts all have some promise from God and yet some uncertainty of timing, some sense of being right on the threshold, of awaiting that moment to come at any time:

• In Genesis (15:1-6), Abram (soon to be Abraham) is promised that his descendants are to be as numerous in the stars in the sky. But when? And now of all times - when Abram and Sarah are old and have "continued childless" - now to be on the threshold of this promise?
  
• In Hebrews (11:1-3, 8-16), we have this week the famous line "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." But in this passage there is also the promise that God has prepared a city for the believers, a heavenly country. This makes us think - ok - now when is that? We stand with
  
• Hthe writer and original audience of Hebrews at the threshold of the city God is preparing for us. We stand on the threshold of the things we hoped for coming true . . .
  
• In the gospel text, Luke 12:32-40, we have three separate mini-passages. The latter two are parables, both which have imagery of people literally waiting on the threshold for the master to return and of the Son of Man coming in a surprise, like a thief in the night. This is the eschatological (end-time) threshold, of the return of Christ, and maybe the most mysterious to us of God's threshold promises.
  

In all of these we are urged to be alert, ready. These are urgent, important, relevant promises of God which impact lives in real ways both in the world of the texts and in our world today. But amid all this hurrying, alertness, and strong promises, we are told not to fear.

How does it feel to stand on the threshold?
You and I stand on the threshold of God's promises daily. We are given these sure assurances, convictions, faith, but what do you see when you stand on the threshold and look ahead? Are you fearful? I know I am sometimes.
How do we live with this in the tension of the opening lines of this week's gospel: "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."

Peace+

Vicar Brett

What would you miss?

This past Sunday I attended my brother's wedding in Charlottesville, Virginia. I missed worshiping here at Christ Lutheran on Sunday. This even surprised me a little bit, honestly, as I have only been here just a month. I worshiped at a different congregation on Sunday, and some things in the service rubbed me the wrong way. But in any case, I just found myself missing the parts of the liturgy that were absent, and really longing for church to happen the way I wanted . . .

No church is perfect, and liturgy is what the gathered assembly does, whatever that is, it's not a set procedure or a strict list.

Visiting with some of the homebound members of CELC, I've noticed a common theme in that many of these members really miss the church services. They miss the hymns, liturgy, and even the sermons! And of course, they miss seeing their friends, the community gathered, and the space which is their church home.
But in terms of what we do in worship, what would you miss most if you were unable to worship? Are there words of the liturgy that are especially central for you? As always, feel free to comment on this post if you want! For me, some things that are really central are the confession and absolution, the hymn of praise, and the communion hymn (Lamb of God. . . )

Have a great, blessed day. Give thanks for opportunities we do have to worship, everywhere, in any way.

Peace+

Vicar Brett