Thursday, December 31, 2009

Jesus Changes Everything


        Do you know the joke about Lutherans and light bulbs?  It goes like this:  How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb?  The answer is "Change?!" spoken with anxiety with the implication being that they get no further.  When I told this joke to my sister, she responded 'that's why Lutherans are always in the dark.'
        Christmas is about change and darkness.  God comes to earth and nothing is the same again.  The darkness of the broken world is parted with the light of God's love and the promise of new life.  The salvation of the world is come.  The angels sing!  Our hearts are filled with light.
        And yet Christmas is also about dramatic change; not just for Mary and Joseph but for us all.  Lutheran or not, change is not always easy.  The more significant the change, the harder it tends to be for us to accept even when the change is good.  We know how to react, what is expected of us, and what will happen when things go the way they always have.  Change, even for good, takes that certainty away from us and so we get anxious.  Change can bring out the worst in us; almost especially in the Church because we want the church (and God) to stay the same.
        When I was in seminary, women students were sent out to do pulpit supply as often as possible, filling in for pastors who were gone for one reason or the other.  One Sunday, I showed up to an assignment with not much time to spare.  (I am directionally impaired - I have witnesses!)  I got out of the car and grabbed my robe and books.  I was met by a man who started to reach for the robe saying, "Here, let me get that for your husband".  I replied that it was mine but didn't stop to pay much attention.  I was more concerned about getting inside and talking to the organist and making sure I knew about the service.
        While talking to the organist, a woman came up.  Her husband was supposed to read the lessons but was sick, what should she do?  I asked her if she would feel comfortable reading the lessons and so she did.  Another woman came and was concerned that the information in the bulletin was wrong about the women's meeting that week.  I asked her to make that correction during the announcements since I wasn't familiar with the details.  I then went on to do the service as discussed, even (with permission as a senior student) presiding at Holy Communion.
        As soon as the service ended, the councilmen met me at the back of the church talking about what to do next.  The pastor, who had been there many years, insisted that no women were allowed to speak in the church.  He didn't believe in the changes being made and said they weren't scriptural.  So in this congregation, women didn't read lessons, usher, or even make their own announcements from the pew.  And now the seminary had sent them me (I was known as Chris at the time) and their own women had read and spoken too.
       Just then, the oldest woman of the congregation came up through the men and grabbed both my hands in hers.  With tears running down her cheeks, she spoke.  "I am so blessed God sent you here.  Now I can die in peace.  I have been waiting 98 years for this."  Her blessing has kept me strong through the years many times, in places and circumstances where I have been doubted, challenged, and tested.  She helped me see that this change I was part of really was from God and had been waited for and prayed for long before I was born.  She has been my "Anna".
        When the newborn Jesus is brought to the temple, two elderly prophets, Simeon and Anna give thanks to God for letting them see Jesus and the  fulfillment of the salvation story.  They help Mary and Joseph and us, see this new thing as wonderful and powerful good news.  Christ is born!  Celebrate the good news of God's love as the holy season of Christmas continues!  Read Luke 2:25-38.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Dear Readers,

The Creator of the Stars at night,
Christ the Light of the World,
and the fire of the Holy Spirit be with you all
and give you God's peace.
May you have a blessed Christmas!

                Pastor Christine Iverson

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Jesus Comes in From the Barn


       We are almost there.  As I told the children Sunday morning, "Look! We are lighting four candles! It's almost Christmas!" It is almost time.
        I was out doing some shopping yesterday evening and brought up my purchases to the counter. 'Did I find everything I needed?' I was asked.  Remembering how many times I had been bumped into, I said that I hoped so because shopping is a madhouse at this point.  We both remarked how people get grumpy and pushy and everybody is rushing around without any joy.  "If only people would remember what Christmas is really about", the clerk added, it would be different, better.
        Later in the car, I remembered one other late Christmas trip.  I was seven months pregnant and on crutches because I had torn stuff up in one of my knees.  I was trying hard to get presents for my young sons without their knowledge so they were at home with their dad while I shopped.  I couldn't negotiate pushing a cart and walking on crutches (without putting weight on the one leg) so I was trying to carry things under my arm and get to the counter.
       Along came someone barging down the aisle, catching one of my crutches with their foot and knocking it out from under me.  My things went flying.  As they rushed past me, they said, "They shouldn't allow those kind of people in here this time of year."
       What kind of people were they talking about?  Pregnant? Injured? On crutches? Unable to leap buildings in a single bound?
       Whatever kind of people they were talking about, I wasn't on their good list.  I was slow, in their way, not like them, what ever the reason, I didn't belong.   But as the clerk said yesterday,  "If only people would remember what Christmas is really about".
        The true message of Christmas is one that does indeed turn the world upside down.  God loves the world so much that Jesus is born of Mary, God is here on the earth and nothing is ever the same again.  As Mary says in the hymn known as the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55), "The mighty one... has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty."
       The king that comes rides a donkey into Jerusalem.  He is born in a tiny, rural hamlet instead of someplace important.  Not only that, but he is born in a barn, a stable with a feed trough for a bed and hay to keep him warm.  His parents are common everyday people without power and importance.   Later on, the Magi show up with costly gifts, but his beginnings are as humble as they can get.   The first people that come to visit are nomadic shepherds living with their herds.  Jesus comes to and for people often thought of as "those people".
       The true message of Christmas is of God's love for the world just the way it is and for all people.  Jesus comes to free the prisoners, heal the sick, comfort the grieving, give sight to the blind, bring love to the forgotten, and to forgive the sinful.  Jesus was born in a barn not a palace, for people who were humble and for just plain folk in need to saving.  Neither our lives, our hearts, nor our homes need to be tidy, in good order, and beautiful.  Jesus doesn't need our gifts, Jesus IS our gift.
       When the sun sets on Christmas Eve, set aside all tasks, light the candles, and welcome Jesus the light of the world.  If you find some bits of dirt or hay tracked across the floor, it's probably just Jesus - coming in from the barn.  Read Luke 2:1-20.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Donkey King



        There is a donkey up in front at the Augustana church these days.  It  appeared in church when the greens and the tree were put up for Advent.   It is a very fine stuffed donkey with a proud head held high.  Built using a sawhorse as a skeleton, the donkey is big enough and strong enough to carry a young person on its brown back.  When I asked about the donkey, I learned that was its' job for many years during Christmas programs.  I have to admit, I was a bit uncomfortable at first with having the donkey in the church but I have come to terms with the donkey.
        It is the one animal that appears in the Jesus story in all four gospels.  But you might be surprise to find out that you won't find it in the birth narratives.  Despite the fact that it appears in nativity scenes, plays and Christmas carols, it's not there in the Bible.  I went looking for the donkey, trying to be careful just to make sure I wasn't missing things.  But there is no mention of the donkey on the way to Bethlehem in Matthew or Luke.  The gospel of Mark begins with the baptism of the adult Jesus and the gospel of John begins with the beginning - of creation!
        So where do we find the donkey?
        It is not Mary that rides the donkey in the Bible but Jesus himself, as he enters Jerusalem just days before his death.  Matthew, Mark, and Luke record Jesus as telling the disciples to bring the young donkey to him just so that he may ride it.  It is important because it signifies Jesus as the king sent by God as told by the prophets. (Zephaniah 9:9)  By riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, Jesus proclaims that God's promise of redemption and freedom is fulfilled.  No wonder the people greet him with hosannas and praise!  
        So the reasoning goes like this: the donkey is a sign of the kingship of Jesus.  Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem because he was a descendent of the family of King David.  Plus, donkeys were a normal beast of burden for common folk and it would be kinder to have a very pregnant Mary ride than to make her walk all that way, wouldn't it?  (Although I'm not too sure it really would be more comfortable.)   There probably would have been donkeys at the stable even if Mary didn't ride one.   I can see the line of reasoning that leads to having the donkey at the manger.
        But the donkey at the manger is also a reminder of what happens to the baby being born. Jesus rides triumphantly into Jerusalem only to die on the cross and then to rise again from the tomb.
        I guess that's why I've grown comfortable with the donkey this Advent season.  That  donkey carries us through what can be the overwhelming sweetness of Christmas and takes us to the strength and promise of Easter.  Jesus is so far beyond just being about presents and carols.  Jesus brings us life that lasts forever, forgiveness for all our brokenness, and God's love that is stronger than anything or anyone.  The donkey didn't carry Santa's sack of presents; the donkey carried the salvation of the world.  Read Matthew 21:1-11

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Light a second candle



        The church season of Advent comes as winter enters into its darkest period.  One of the traditional ways of observing Advent is lighting a candle for each of the weeks as we count down the days until Christmas.  This week, we light two candles marking the half-way point.
        It is about this point that I start to get anxious about my preparations for Christmas and start looking at my list of things done and undone.  And yet, it is reassuring to light another candle in the darkness.  Jesus is coming.
        How do we prepare for Jesus?  What must we do to get ready?
       Does lighting candles matter?  Candles have a way of lightening the darkness with warmth in a way that cannot be matched by turning on a light bulb.  But candles are also used to signify important events.Certainly, we all notice the number of candles increasing on our birthday cakes until it gets to the point where the fire is big enough to melt the frosting!  The candle given at baptism is given with the words, "Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." (Matthew 5:16)  These candle lightings signify changes and growth in our lives.
        One Sunday, the lighting of the candles for worship seemed for me a sign of great changes in our Church.  I was preaching for a pastor who was gone, filling in as I often did in Seminary.  But this Sunday struck me very differently.   I had spoken to the woman who was playing organ as we checked with each other about whether or not I chanted the liturgy and how they were used to doing things.  At the same time, I was introduced to the woman who was reading the lessons for the day.  I then went to the  small room near the altar and put on my robe for worship, along with the giggly young confirmation student who was lighting candles.
        "I bet you used to light candles all the time when you were younger," she said.  "No."  I told her that when I was her age, girls were not allowed to light candles.
        "What kind of weird church did you belong to?", she asked.
        I tried to explain that 'back then' most lutheran (and other) churches did not allow girls to light candles, or women to read, or certainly for women to preach or be pastors.  Her remark was that I didn't look that old!
        We entered the sanctuary together and as she touched her flame to the candles on the altar, I marveled with thanksgiving to be able to be there that Sunday.  She gave me the gift of her sureness that of course, we were serving the church in the way that God wanted.
        It is a reminder that the Christ that is coming is still alive and active in the world.   We light our candles not to remember the birth two thousand years ago of an infant now long dead but we light our candles to mark the coming of the Savior of the World - the Light that shatters the darkness and shows us the Way.  We go to the manger to remember that Jesus was real, human like you and me.  When we remember that, we realize the immensity of God's gift --  the life and death of God's own child.
        But on Christmas, we light a white candle, perhaps taller than the others, that signifies Christ.  This candle reminds us that Jesus is God, whose death overcomes death, whose love is so strong that it holds on to us and nothing can separate us.   This light is life; the light and life of all people.  When the stresses, griefs, and worries of our lives threaten to become too much to bear, we can light a candle and pray.  And when the darkness still seems to be too dark, too cold, too forbidding, we can light two.  God's love is stronger than any darkness.  Read John 1:1-9
  

Friday, December 4, 2009

Light One Candle





Advent is a season of waiting and watching – a season that gets lost in these days of the high pressure to buy, buy, buy as we try to buy our way out of a recession. Some people have been saying that we should just give up on Advent. After all, we went from Halloween almost directly to Christmas (at least in the stores and in the media) almost skipping over Thanksgiving. There is a feeling that Advent has old fashioned and meaningless.


I want to make a case for Advent and not only because we need time to hear the background story to Christ’s birth and the prophecies of Christ’s coming again. I think we need Advent now more than ever.


We live in a world now where people are expected to be available 24/7 – all day long, every day. It used to be that only mothers, pastors and family physicians lived that kind of life – and only mothers never got private quiet time in the bathroom. Now with all our technological advances, we can do anything anywhere. It came in handy and I could see the reason behind it when working in disaster response. I was at the high point of the main road of Rocky Mountain National Park when I got called back from vacation to respond to a disaster. To me, that call at least was urgent, and the person that called didn’t know where I was but we’ve gone beyond that.


A couple of years ago, I was out to a nice lunch with one of my children and excused myself to the restroom. While there, I got a call on my cell-phone. “This is not a good time”, I tried to explain. “I’m at a restaurant with other people and right now I’m in the public restroom.” “That’s okay,” they replied and were going to continue with what would be a long, complicated conversation. I had to interrupt and insist that it was not okay with me. What part of ‘in the bathroom’ didn’t they get?


Advent is a time of waiting that invites us to stillness and taking time apart from the craziness of getting ready for Christmas to get our hearts ready for Christ. It is a good time to set aside daily time for quiet that can include devotions and prayer. It doesn’t have to be long or complicated. Even taking time for a quiet cup of your favorite coffee, cocoa or tea is a beginning. Some people find their quiet time early in the morning before the day’s bustle begin. Other people take time at the close of the day, when everyone is tucked in for the night.


Think of Advent as spa-time for the stressed in the Christmas rush with a focus on faith and your spiritual wellbeing. Light one candle this week and take time to pray. Read Luke 3:4-6

Thanksgiving

  "O give thanks to the Lord, for God is good and God's steadfast love endures forever" 1Chronicles 16:34

        One of the things I remember from growing up was that Dad beeped the horn a lot. It always seemed to take a lot to get the family ready and out the door. With seven kids, the older ones had to help or at least motivate the younger ones to get a move on and hurry and get out the door. Dad was waiting and it was getting late – we could tell because we could hear the car honking. Dad did not like to be kept waiting.
        It didn’t matter if we were at home, getting ready for church or if Mom was shopping, there would come a point where you just knew where Dad would be – unhappy, sitting in the car and honking the horn. I don’t know if it was because he was an only child and never had to wait for other people or if it was because as an officer in the Air Force, you just weren’t late. Either way, one sure way to get in trouble was to dawdle or take your time when we were trying to leave.
        That’s why it was such a surprise later on in years when he offered to give up his spot and wait for other people to go first.
        My sister and I had taken him to his appointment at the VA in Minneapolis. It was for a check-up after his heart surgery. After driving more than an hour to get there, and sitting in the waiting room for hours, we were afraid he was going to get angry. Instead, he told the nurse to let the other guys go next, he could wait. I’m sure my jaw dropped open. Was this my Dad?
        Later on, I asked him about it.
        “I’m fine. I’ve got time to wait. Some of the guys in wheelchairs -you have no idea what those guys went through in the war. I have nothing to complain about. I’ve been blessed. They should go first. I’m thankful I can wait.”
        All the years of waiting for my Mom and the “discussions” they had; all of the time spent waiting while raising seven kids – none of that had taught my dad patience. But he had discovered something that had made him thankful. The dual experience of surviving his heart surgery combined with being around people who were dealing with circumstances worse than his own had made him thankful. And his gratitude enabled him to be both patient and gracious.
        It is often in contrast that we learn to be thankful.
         In the Gospel of Mark (5:1-20) Jesus healed a man who was possessed by demons. The man had been so ill for so long that he lived among the tombs, most often naked and often in chains and shackles that he would break apart. Jesus calls the demons out of him and into a herd of pigs, leaving the man healed and in his right mind. (The pigs throw themselves over a cliff and die, however).
        The man, now clothed and healed wants to get into the boat with Jesus, leave with him and follow him.
        Jesus tells him no. “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you and what mercy he has shown you.”
        Why does Jesus tell this man no when he calls others to follow him? Jesus is sad over the rich young man who refuses to leave everything behind and follow him. But this man, Jesus sends back home. Why would Jesus do that?
         First of all, this man has more healing to do. He has been living in terrible conditions, in a way that made it unsafe and impossible for him to be with his family and friends. This had to have been hard and painful to both him and his family. Part of his healing is to be with them – to learn again how to be with them and to have those relationships restored. He may have done things when he was sick that hurt people and there needs to be forgiving, and restoration if possible.
         And there is something else as well. If he followed Jesus, his story of thanksgiving would fall flat. It would sound like a tale of make-believe. His tale of living among the tombs, breaking shackles and chains, and the demons that were driven out would sound unbelievable. The now sane, clean young man would just look like another follower of this itinerant teacher, this Jesus.
         But at home, where people had seen him and had perhaps been afraid of him, for them to see him healed and to hear his story of God’s grace and mercy --- this would be a story of great power and witness to the gospel.
         What about us? Are we willing to share with others all that God has done for us? Are we ready to give thanks? Read Mark 5:18-20