FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY

Micah 6:1-8

Psalm 15

1 Corinthians 1:18-31

Matthew 5:1-12

Prayer of the Day: Holy God, you confound the world’s wisdom in giving your kingdom to the lowly and the pure in heart. Give us such a hunger and thirst for justice, and perseverance in striving for peace, that in our words and deeds the world may see the life of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“[God] has told you, O mortal, what is good,
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice and to love kindness
    and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8.

It’s not rocket science. God does not need sacrificial slaughters, well choreographed liturgies, glamorous praise bands accompanied by hundred voice choirs. God does not need anything from us, thanks just the same. Our neighbors, however, do have many needs and that is where God would have us direct our attention. If you want to serve God, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the prisoner, welcome the alien (legal or illegal, God makes no distinction and neither should we), care for the sick and defend the poor from oppression. Love God by loving your neighbor. That’s the law and the prophets, says Jesus. Matthew 22:34-40.

But that is not as simple as it might seem. While it is true that the biblical understanding of love is grounded in deeds rather than mere sentiment, it is also true that there is an affectional engine that drives love toward action, a “hunger and thirst for righteousness,” a love for God’s promised reign and a longing for the day when God’s “will is done on earth as in heaven.” Saint Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, teaches us however that love frequently goes off the rails. He maintains, rightly I think, that love drives both righteousness and sin. Our problem is that our love is disordered. Instead of being orientated toward the God who directs God’s own self-giving through us and to our neighbor, we love first what is not God, the creature rather than the creator or, in other words, an idol. According to Augustine, an idol is often not evil in and of itself. Familial love, love of one’s homeland, and love of one’s profession are all well and good, provided they are subject to one’s primary love toward God. When any one of these loves displaces love that must be directed to God alone, it becomes distorted. Love of spouse and family becomes possessive and controlling. Love of country degenerates into nationalism. Work becomes obsessive, burdensome and exploitive. Misdirected love distorts our sense of right and wrong and disorients our consciences.

Love, like faith and hope, is a habit of the heart. It is not something we are born with. Love is learned through practices of the communities in which we live. Our consciences are formed through teachings and examples absorbed through the institutions of government, education and religion. As these institutions are broken and misdirected, so are the consciences formed therein. In Mark Twain’s classic, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,[1] protagonist Huck Finn experiences a crisis of conscience illustrating the point. For those few who might not be familiar with the book, it narrates the story of Jim, an enslaved man living in the pre-bellum south, seeking to escape to the north and gain his freedom with the assistance of an orphaned boy, Huckleberry Finn. As the two draw nearer to Ohio and Jim’s hope for freedom seems within reach at last, Huck begins to experience profound guilt for his involvement with Jim. His conscience, shaped as it is by the culture of the southern slave states, cannot abide aiding and abetting a runaway slave. Huck regrets facilitating Jim’s escape from his enslaver, a widow of whom he says, “she tried to be good to [me] every which way she knowed how.” He says, “I got to feeling so mean and miserable I must have wished I was dead.” From his perspective, helping Jim escape from his enslaver constituted theft.

Caught between the promise of loyalty and friendship he made to Jim and the morality inculcated by the community in which he was raised, Huck nearly succumbs to the societal moral imperative demanding that he betray Jim. But the thought of breaking his word and violating his friendship to Jim seems equally appalling, even though Huck lacks the conceptual tools for justifying such fidelity. In the end, Huck abandons his intent to inform on Jim. He concludes, “what’s the use you learning to do right when it’s troublesome to do right and ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?” He decides that a conscience is unhelpful and bothersome and that henceforth he would “always do whichever came handiest at the time.” If there is a moral here, it is that a conscience is only as reliable as the morality of the community in which it is formed.[2] Though he does not put it in such terms, Huck’s conscience has been stretched in a new direction through his friendship with Jim and his participation in his quest for freedom.

In his book, Desiring the Kingdom,[3] professor of philosophy James K. Smith reminds us that we are and act in accordance with what we love. The question, then, is “what sort of community shapes and directs our love?” Or, to put it another way, what sort of community shapes our consciences?” There are plenty of communities of which we are part and which shape our desires, our moral values and our priorities. There are numerous liturgies in which we participate that shape our characters for better or worse. Take, for example, the community formed by the Superbowl. Thousands will gather on February 8^th to watch the Seattle Seahawks square off against the New England Patriots.[4] Millions more will be watching remotely. This community assembled for Superbowl will witness a military show of force, rise to salute the flag and join in the singing of the national anthem, the teams will take the field to roars of applause and there will be a spectacular“half time” show. Oh, and did I mention that there will be a football game?

Another example of communal liturgy shows itself in national political conventions, the purpose of which is ostensibly to nominate a presidential candidate. Such conventions have all the hallmarks of a religious rite. The nomination is usually a done deal and the convention merely a celebration and proclamation of the party’s candidate and agenda. Still, the symbolic and persuasive power of the accompanying patriotic speeches, entertainment and formal nomination ceremony cannot be denied. Both these communities and their “liturgies” reflect and reinforce values, convictions and cultural assumptions. I am not suggesting that being a football fan or a member of a political party is necessarily idolatrous. I do believe, however, that our participation in their liturgies and practices is capable of influencing us in ways we might not even recognize. Thus, it is important that one be mindful of the communities of which one is a part and aware of the truth claims, explicit and implicit, that they are making.

The liturgies and practices of that community called church are grounded in Jesus’ obedient life, faithful death and glorious resurrection. Just as Huck Finn’s conscience was transformed through his relationship with Jim and his quest for freedom, so the consciences of Jesus’ disciples are formed by their relationship with him mediated by the worship and practices of the communion of saints. This is the context in which the Sermon on the Mount must be understood. It does not represent an aspirational morality for which humans must strive, but can never hope to realize in the world as it is. Rather, the sermon lays out the blueprint for the life Jesus actually lived in the world as we know it. It is also the life into which Jesus invites us to join him, a life that necessarily takes the shape of the cross in a world hostile to it. Consciences formed in the community of Jesus know better than to fall for quasi religious ideologies such as our nation’s gun fetish, American exceptionalism, capitalism, white supremacy and the numerous conspiracy theories that seek to give them credibility.

Our consciences and our beliefs about morality are not usually matters of choice. As I noted before, we are shaped by the communities in which we live. We can, however, be intentional about the communities by which we choose to be shaped. We can decide how much or our lives are spent on social media with various interest groups, how much time we give to watching news media, which media we watch and how much attention we give to “influencers” of various stripes. We can be intentional about the depth of our involvement with our church, its ministries and our fellow disciples. While we might be involved with communities other than church, we can be attentive to the ways in which their practices share an affinity to the church’s witness to Jesus and the reign of God he proclaims and critical of any claims, assumptions and practices contrary to that witness. A conscience painstakingly shaped by such discipleship is positioned to “do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with [] God.”

Here is a poem by Jan Richardson addressed to disciples formed by Jesus who “bear the light,” reminiscent of Jesus remark in the Sermon on the Mount that his followers are “the light of the world.” Matthew 5:14. They are the ones in whom “the brightness blazes.”

Blessed Are You Who Bear the Light

Source: Circle of Grace, (c.  2015 by Jan Richardson; pub. by Wanton Gospeller Press) pp. 47-48. Jan Richardson is an artist, writer, and ordained minister in the United Methodist Church. She grew up in Evanston, a small community outside of Gainesville, Florida. She is currently director of The Wellspring Studio and serves as a retreat leader and conference speaker. In addition to the above cited work, her books include The Cure for Sorrow, Circle of Grace, A Book of Blessings for the Seasons, In the Sanctuary of Women, and Sparrow: A Book of Life and Death and Life. You can learn more about Jan Richardson and her work on her website.

[1] The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain (New York Post Family Classics Library, c. Paperview).

[2] I note with some trepidation that the author’s notice prior to chapter one reads in pertinent part, “persons attempting to find a moral in [this narrative] will be banished.”

[3] Desiring the Kingdom, by James K. Smith, (c. 2009 by James K. Smith; pub by Baker Publishing Group)

[4] Full disclosure. I have an interest in this upcoming contest, two actually. As a kid raised in the shadow of Seattle, I have always backed the Seahawks. Nevertheless, as a citizen of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I feel a certain affinity for the Patriots as well. I actually do have a preference-which I am not inclined to disclose. Whatever the outcome, I will at least have the satisfaction of being able to say that my team won.

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY

Isaiah 9:1-4

Psalm 27:1, 4-9

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Matthew 4:12-23

Prayer of the Day: Lord God, your lovingkindness always goes before us and follows after us. Summon us into your light, and direct our steps in the ways of goodness that come through the cross of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

^“From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Matthew 4:17.

“As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishers. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.” Matthew 4:18-22.

Alfred Loisy, French biblical scholar, linguist, philosopher and a founder of the modernist movement within the Roman Catholic Church is credited with saying that “Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God and what came was the church.” In his view, as in the view of many other modernist scholars since, the church was an unintended consequence of the historical Jesus’ prophetic ministry and preaching. In its creeds, theology and various institutional forms, the established church represents a betrayal of Jesus’ insistence upon the nearness of God’s impending reign that promises to transform human existence.

I have in previous articles expressed my views on the futility of chasing the so-called “historical Jesus” supposedly lurking behind the New Testament witness. I am far from the only one to have observed that the Jesus such people find turns out to be remarkably amenable to their own social, religious and political preferences. In my view, the only Jesus we have is the one to whom the New Testament witnesses in all of its textual messiness, theological diversity and cultural bias. Do these diverse voices witnessing to Jesus in this remarkable document nevertheless faithfully portray a coherent testimony to him as God’s Son and the world’s savior? That is a question neither historical criticism nor any other hermeneutical method can resolve. We are left with the Apostle Philip’s invitation to Nathaniel: “Come and see.”

While Jesus is no doubt dismayed with much of what the church is today, I do not believe it can be said from the perspective of the New Testament witness that the church was a mistake or unintended. In Sunday’s gospel, Jesus begins his ministry by announcing the nearness of God’s reign. In the very next breath the evangelist Matthew narrates the call of the first disciples. The church, albeit in embryonic form, and the kingdom are together from the beginning. They remain so throughout the gospel narrative. Sometimes the church is manifest in the work of the twelve, the faithful women who supported them and nameless others who followed Jesus throughout his ministry. Sometimes it is glanced fleetingly as in the people touched, instructed and healed by Jesus whose identity and destiny we never learn. Sometimes the church is found lurking on the sidelines in people like Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea who will not openly identify with Jesus, but show up unexpectedly for Jesus when his own closest disciples have abandoned him.

The New Testament reflects a church whose borders are porous. That comports with my experience of church. In every church to which I have belonged, there was a faithful core of disciples who were always present to assist a family coming to the sanctuary with needs for food, clothing or heating bills. If the discretionary fund was exhausted, they reached into their own wallets. They were the first to volunteer for every church ministry and event and the last to leave after the cleanup was done and the lights turned off. There were folks who worshipped regularly, contributed modestly but seldom, if ever, showed up at any other time. There were people who attended sporadically, never contributed significantly and disappeared for months at a time. But they returned often enough for us to know them by name and understand a little bit about their circumstances. There were folks who showed up only on Easter and Christmas. Finally, there were people who never showed up until someone needed to be baptized, married or buried. Yet even these folks had a sense that this church was “theirs” in some attenuated way. All of them belonged to our part of Christ’s Body in some sense.

I think the church has always been uncomfortable with its “open border” policies. Throughout the church’s history, there have been movements with leaders intent on closing the borders, drawing clear lines between the church and the world, the righteous and the sinners, the saved and the damned. The church, they argue, is to be counter-cultural, formed by thick practices and the teachings of apostles and prophets. Church is the furnace in which a new way to be human is forged. It is to be a community that operates as a “demonstration plot” for the reign of God, as Clarance Jordan once observed. I agree wholeheartedly with Jordan on this point. I would add, however, that the chief characteristic of God’s reign is inclusivity and hospitality. Those same attributes must also be present in the church. What distinguishes the church from a cult is its openness. Anyone can come in off the street and into our worship services. There is no secret initiation rite. Baptism, holy communion and confirmation are all public events. There are no secret esoteric teachings known only to the inner circle. What we believe is set forth in creeds that are confessed publicly at our public worship services. What you see is what you get.   

It is important to point out that there never was a “golden age” of the church. The New Testament does bear witness to great acts of faithfulness and courage by the church and its leaders. That, however, is far from the whole story. In the gospels, Jesus’ disciples consistently misunderstand him and the reign of God he proclaims. They argue and quarrel over which of them is the most important. They show a nasty intolerance for small children, Samaritans and foreigners they regard as unworthy or simply not important enough for Jesus’ attention. One of them betrays Jesus, all of them desert Jesus in his time of greatest need and the one he considered his “rock” denied knowing him when the pressure was on. The Book of Acts is rife with ethnic tensions, disputes over doctrine and practice as well as personality conflicts. Saint Paul’s letters to the various churches he founded and served demonstrate that these communities, too, fought over money, power and ecclesiastical order. In short, the first century church looks very much like the church of the twenty-first century. It was a mixed bag then as it is now.

The church is not the reign of God, but only its less than perfect witness. Confession of sin is a central part of Christian worship and a reminder that disciples are no less in need of God’s redemptive love than the rest of the world. The diversity and inclusiveness confessed for the “one, holy, catholic and apostolic church” is frequently more aspirational than real. But aspirations are important. If a student’s aspiration for achieving an A in physics results in receiving a B instead of a C, the student’s efforts were not in vain. The reign of God is revealed in the lives of those who believe in it, love it and live for it. Though painfully aware that their lives do not measure up to the new humanity revealed in their Lord, they nevertheless discover at times that they are capable of doing more and being more than they ever imagined they could do or be. Like John the Baptist, the church is not the savior of the world or the reign of God. Yet, again, like John, it is always pointing beyond itself to the one who is the savior of the world and who announces the nearness of God’s reign. In their flawed witness, the world sometimes gets a glimpse of what God has in store for it.

Here is a poem about the church’s imperfect but precious witness to God’s reign.

Prayer at the Closing of a Church

Source: Anonymous      

EPIPHANY OF OUR LORD

Isaiah 60:1-6

Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14

Ephesians 3:1-12

Matthew 2:1-12

Prayer of the Day: Everlasting God, the radiance of all faithful people, you brought the nations to the brightness of your rising. Fill the world with your glory, and show yourself to all the world through him who is the true light and the bright morning star, your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

BAPTISM OF OUR LORD

Isaiah 42:1-9

Psalm 29

Acts 10:34-43

Matthew 3:13-17

Prayer of the Day: O God our Father, at the baptism of Jesus you proclaimed him your beloved Son and anointed him with the Holy Spirit. Make all who are baptized into Christ faithful to their calling to be our daughters and sons, and empower us all with your Spirit, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“….this grace was given to me to bring to the gentiles the news of the boundless riches of Christ and to make everyone seewhat is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in^[g] God, who created all things, so that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 3:8-10.

“I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every people anyone who fears him and practices righteousness is acceptable to him.” Acts 10:34-35.

“We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church.

     We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.” Nicene Creed.

Preachers have three choices for the coming Sunday. We can celebrate the Baptism of our Lord that falls upon Sunday, January 11^th, we can bump our observance of the Epiphany of our Lord from January 4^th to Sunday or, as I would humbly suggest, we can celebrate both feasts this coming Sunday. Matthew’s gospel has Jesus accepting John’s baptism, thereby identifying with the marginalized outcasts that responded to John’s proclamation of the nearness of God’s reign. Matthew also testifies to the faithful response of the gentile magi to the sign of Jesus’ birth in the heavens. So, too, Saint Paul declares in his letter to the Ephesians how the unity of the church and the diversity of its members witnesses to the unity of all peoples, nations and tongues God desires for the world. This message is of great importance today as it addresses a fundamental misunderstanding of the gospel prominent throughout western Christianity.

As pointed out by New Testament scholar, Pauline theologian and Anglican bishop N.T. Wright, “The problem is that most Western Christians today think that the whole point of Christianity is for our souls to go to Heaven when we die, whereas the New Testament concentrates on God coming to dwell with us.” See interview with the Christian Post, December 1, 2025. In short, the gospel with which many of us, including me, have grown up offers only a life raft to rescue a few faithful souls from a sinking ship. According to the biblical witness, however, God’s intent is to save the ship. Thus, baptism is not to be understood as an individual fire insurance policy for the hereafter, but rebirth into the community that follows Jesus known as church. Furthermore, the church is not to be understood as the singular elevator to heaven outside of which there is no salvation. Rather, the church is the community that witnesses in word and deed to the salvation God offers to the whole world. Just as my baptism is far bigger than just me, so salvation is much bigger than the church.

Unlike the paltry salvation that preserves only a ghostly, immaterial and invisible soul, the salvation Jesus proclaims embraces all of creation, its air, water and mud; every creature that mucks about in it; every plant that springs from its soil; and, yes, every human being made in God’s image-however distorted that image may have become. Like the motto of the United States Marines, “nobody gets ‘left behind.’” In the biblical view of salvation, the world, its oceans, rivers, fields and forests are not merely temporary staging for God’s dealing with humanity. They are the objects of God’s redemptive love no less than the human beings charged with its care. The future holds not merely a haven for disembodied souls, but a new heaven and a new earth in which God’s good and gracious will is done.

The scriptures for Epiphany and the Baptism of Jesus testify to the physicality of God, which is another way to speak of the Incarnation. It was a star that led the pagan magi to Jesus, whereas the bible jocks in Jerusalem are caught completely off guard by his coming. The Spirit proclaims Jesus’ sonship in the muddy waters of the Jordan River. The scandal of the gospel, a stumbling block for so many (including Christians!), is that God has a body. When Saint Paul says to the doctrinally confused, morally compromised and deeply divided church at Corinth, “now you are the body of Christ,” he is not speaking metaphorically. The church, for all of its flaws, failures and sins, is nonetheless Christ’s body. It is through the church that God means to demonstrate God’s will for all creation. For that reason, it is critically important that the church both be and testify to the diversity, equity and inclusion that are the salvation of the world, so that “through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known….”

We need to be clear that it is not God’s intent to rapture a few disembodied souls to heaven and leave God’s beautiful world to the ravaging violence of some antichrist. Too many believers are caught up in just such misguided beliefs. We need to be clear that believers confess the resurrection of the body, not the immortality of the soul. To be honest, I am not even sure there is such a thing as a soul, if by that one means the survival of some part of the self following death. I am quite sure I will not survive my own death. That’s OK with me. I have no desire to continue on as a disembodied ghost. Thankfully, God promises much more. God has pledged to me in baptism that God’s love for me will survive my demise. What I do believe is that God is bringing all of creation to an end in God’s self where God will be “all in all.” Jesus’ resurrection is, among other things, God’s pledge that there is a place for me in that “life of the world to come,” along with birds of the air, fish of the sea, beasts of the forest, the mountains, valleys, oceans, lakes, rivers, a new humanity and, of course, the communion of saints.

Here is a poem by the nonbinary poet, K. Iver. Though highly critical of the church and its exclusion of gay, lesbian and non-binary folk, the poem takes seriously the humanity of God and addresses God directly through the “Body of Christ.” In a strange and perhaps unintentional way, Iver testifies to the physicality of God through the miracle of the Incarnation. The poem also illustrates the toxicity of the kind of Christian teaching against which N.T. Wright warns us. 

god

So we, being many, are one body in Christ,
and every one members one of another.
ROMANS 12:5

And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off,
and cast it from thee.
MATTHEW 5:30

Source: Poetry (December 2025). K. Iver was born in Mississippi. They earned their PhD in poetry from Florida State University. Their debut collection Short Film Starring My Beloved’s Red Bronco (Milkweed Editions, 2023) won the 2022 Ballard Spahr Prize for Poetry, selected and was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Award, the Kate Tufts Discovery Award, and the Lambda Literary Award for Transgender Poetry. The collection was also named a Best Book of 2023 by the New York Public Library. Iver’s poems have appeared in Boston Review, Kenyon Review, Los Angeles Review of Books. They have received fellowships from the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing, the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, and the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation of New Mexico.

Iver is currently the Roger F. Murray Chair in Creative Writing at Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts.  

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Isaiah 7:10-16

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

Romans 1:1-7

Matthew 1:18-25

Prayer of the Day: Stir up your power, Lord Christ, and come. With your abundant grace and might, free us from the sin that hinders our faith, that eagerly we may receive your promises, for you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” Matthew 1:20.

The assertion that Jesus was “born of the virgin Mary,” has generated a great deal of controversy and consternation on many levels in recent decades, so much so that some Christian theologians and teachers have advocated abandoning it altogether. For example, the late Bishop John Shelby Spong declared in a lecture given in 2016 that the doctrine was “likely fictional and largely irrelevant.” The bishop’s focus was on ridding the church of “fundamentalism” which, in his view, had caused “a massive exodus of young people from the organized church into the secular city…” According to Rev. Spong, “Christianity needs to return to its Jewish roots.” That means ignoring parts of the gospel narrative, such as the “virgin birth,” which are gentile interpolations. See “John Shelby Spong Questions the Virgin Birth,” The Chautauquan, June 28, 2016.

I respectfully disagree with the bishop’s Jew/gentile dichotomy. Scholarship has shown that the Judaism of Jesus’ day was in constant dialogue with Greco-Roman religion and philosophy. Hebrew scriptures composed centuries before Jesus’ birth evidence profound Hellenistic influence. Moreover, the greater part of the Jewish population in the First Century was made up of the “diaspora,” Jewish communities located at various other parts of the Roman Empire. These largely Greek speaking Jews were exposed to and incorporated the thinking of their gentile neighbors and doubtless brought it with them on their visits to the holy city. Consequently, I am not convinced that the binary distinction between Jewish and gentile thought is a reliable hermeneutical method for understanding and preaching the New Testament. Rather than viewing Greco Roman thought as a contaminant poisoning the pristine waters of the Hebrew scriptural witness, I believe it is more helpful to view it as seasoning that deepens, enriches and expands biblical faith.

Moreover, while I heartly agree with Bishop Spong’s criticisms of fundamentalism, I do not believe it is responsible for the exodus from organized religion he accurately describes. My own ELCA, which has long rejected fundamentalist interpretations of the Bible, is hemorrhaging members as are other so-called progressive churches. There are numerous reasons for that, many of them having nothing to do with what the churches are preaching, teaching or singing on Sunday morning. But I believe one factor fueling the disinterest in church for young and old alike is our poverty of imagination and the absence of all capacity to entertain mystery. On this level, fundamentalism and much what passes for “progressive” Christianity are two peas in the same pod. The former binds the imagination to acceptance of finite doctrinal propositions that must not be questioned regardless how untenable they seem to reason and common sense. The latter binds the imagination by compressing it into the confines of rationalistic modernism where nothing that cannot be proven empirically gains admission. The numinous, spiritual and miraculous must 1) be expressed in terms that are rationally and empirically explicable; 2) reduced to metaphors or 3) dispensed with altogether. Both kinds of religion are, well, boring. Neither is worth giving up a Sunday morning with the Times, a good cup of coffee and a Jersey bagel with cream cheese.

I don’t believe we must settle for either of these two bland, white bread offerings. The last several decades have seen the sciences breaking out of the rationalistic straight jacket characterizing their formative years in the Nineteenth Century. We are beginning to understand that the so called “laws of nature” are simply observed patterns of regularity that are malleable, relative and subject to changing conditions. The many fields of physics employ as much intuition and exploratory reasoning as deduction from “hard data.” Biologists are discovering that the assumptions we have made over the last couple of centuries concerning human supremacy have colored and distorted our perceptions of the natural world. As a result, we are learning that consciousness, intelligence and self awareness are far more layered and complex than we assumed and that they pervade the biosphere of living things. Improved telescopic, microscopic and clinical methods are expanding both our knowledge of the universe and revealing how much more we have to learn. Increasingly, the questions of scientists are beginning to resemble those that have been posed for centuries by poets, storytellers, musicians, philosophers and theologians. There is, I believe, a turning away from simplistic binary thinking and a greater openness today toward mystery, spirit and the numinous in all disciplines.  

When it comes to biblical narratives like our gospel lesson for this Sunday, the tendency is to say either too much or not enough. Matthew tells us simply that Jesus’ conception is “from the Holy Spirit.” In the lengthy and monotonous genealogy preceding the story of Jesus’’ birth, we discover that the sacred line of the messiah runs through scandalous episodes of violence, incest, prostitution, adultery and seduction. The Spirit works not above but within the lives of flawed people with less than holy ambitions. Thus, the assurance that Mary’s child was “from the Holy Spirit” might have been cold comfort for Joseph. Yet Joseph is called upon to take Mary as his wife on the basis of this assurance. The most we can glean from the narrative is that Joseph accepts the angel’s assurance that there is more to Mary’s pregnancy than he is assuming. That’s not much to go on, but it was evidently enough.

The conception of Jesus was undoubtedly a miracle. That does not mean it was necessarily “supernatural,” though for all we know it might have been. I do not discount the occurrence of an event merely because I cannot explain its causation in terms of what I understand. Neither do I discount the miraculous nature of an event because I can easily explain its causation in such terms. Because I believe in a God who works in and through God’s creation in all of its manifold processes, some of which I understand and many of which I do not, understanding the mechanics of God’s works is not necessary. In the final analysis, I am not convinced I will ever get my head around the mystery of the Incarnation, of God’s becoming and remaining human in our midst. That is what our text is seeking to convey and what it challenges us, like Joseph, to trust. Faith may seek understanding, but it can also do without it.  

I have thought much about how to preach Jesus’ birth by the activity of the Holy Spirit.  I offer the following sermon, not as a model of homiletic excellence, but as an example of the directions my thinking has taken me. I need to explain that this is a “sermon” I preached at a Christmas Eve candlelight mass. I have discovered over the years that, by the evening of the night before Christmas, those who manage to get to church are generally exhausted, stressed and tired. They have not come for deep theological reflection or to struggle with titanic moral issues. They just want to sing the old Christmas carols, participate in the rhythms of the liturgy and unwind. Thus, rather than preaching a sermon, I customarily compose a short story touching on the biblical text. A sermon usually requires some effort to engage. A well told story picks you up and carries you along. Fictional narrative is not my home genre, but occasionally I dabble in it. So, for what it’s worth, here is my sermon/short story for Christmas Eve of 2016 on Sunday’s text.

**************************************************************

The rain was falling heavily that Christmas Eve, driven by fierce gusts down the empty streets of the little borough. It was the kind of rain that soaks you to the skin in a few minutes time, the kind of storm that blows first this direction, then that turning umbrellas inside out and rendering them useless. A sad, solitary figure in a drenched raincoat was making his way up the street to the one establishment with a light in the windows, the one place that appeared to be open. It was a bar-the small neighborhood type. He pulled open the door, stepped into the foyer and then into the bar itself. The place was nearly empty. The bartender was standing behind the bar drying some freshly washed glasses. There was a young kid, maybe in his twenties, sweeping the floors. He stood for a few minutes wondering whether the bar wasn’t actually closed and someone forgot to turn the sign around and lock the door.

          “You coming in or not?” asked the bartender. “If you’re going to stay and have a drink, I’d appreciate you’re hanging that coat on the rack to your right. Don’t need anyone falling on a wet floor. Nothing like a lawsuit to spoil the holidays.”

          The man nodded, hung up his coat, walked over and sat down at the bar.

          “What’ll it be?” asked the bartender.

          “What do you recommend,” the man replied a little hesitantly.

          “You don’t do much drinking, do you?” said the bartender.

          “Actually, very little. None to tell you the truth. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

          “Well,” said the bartender. “There are usually just two reasons for a man coming into a bar all by himself. He’s either broken up with a woman or looking to hook up with one. If you’re the hooking up kind, you’re out of luck as you can plainly see.”

          “I am out of luck alright,” the man replied. “But I’m not here to find a date. I’m in the break up category-and about that drink-guess I’ll just have a club soda, sir.”

          “You got it,” said the bartender. :And don’t be calling me ‘sir.’” I haven’t been called or called anyone ‘sir’ since my Army days. Didn’t like it then. Don’t like it now. My name’s Angelo-and you?”

          “I’m Joe.”

          “Well, Joe, sorry to hear about your break up. But maybe it’s all for the best. Like they say, there’s always more fish in the sea.”

          “Not like Mary” Joe replied. “She is one of a kind. They broke the mold when they made her.”

          “So who ended it-you or her?”

          “Well, I did. Or at least I am going to. It’s complicated.”

          Angelo laughed. “It’s always complicated, Joe. Show me a relationship that isn’t complicated! And boyfriend/girlfriend stuff-that really gets messy.”

          “It’s a little more than just boyfriend and girlfriend.” Said Joe. “Mary and I were engaged. Just yesterday, I would have told you that I’m the happiest man in the world. I found someone who is so kind, so honest and so strong-I didn’t know there were people like that in the world.”

          “So what happened overnight to spoil all of that?” asked Angelo.

          “Well,” said Joe, “last night Mary came over to my apartment to tell me she was pregnant.”

          “That’s it?” asked Angelo incredulously. “So what’s the big deal? Just move the wedding up a few months and nobody will be the wiser. Do you really think people sit and count down the months when they get a birth announcement? Shoot, they don’t even care anymore. In half the weddings I attend the bride and groom have their own kids being ring bearers and flower girls. This is the twenty-first century, Joe. Nobody is going to brand you two with a scarlet letter.”

          “This may be the twenty-first century,” said Joe. “But Mary and me, we are old school. We-ah-how shall I say. We don’t believe in doing it before marriage. And we didn’t. So…”

          “So the kid isn’t yours,” Angelo finished the sentence for him.

          “Yeh, that’s right,” said Joe.

          “Gee,” said Angelo. “That must have been hard to hear.”

          “Oh, you’re not kidding!” said Joe. “I was angry at first, then deeply hurt. I spent last night and most of today just walking around in the rain thinking about all this. But now I am more at peace with it. I look at it this way, Angelo: a person can’t help who she falls in love with. Maybe Mary never really did have the love for me that I had for her. Maybe I wasn’t right for her. Is it her fault that she didn’t find the man she truly loved until after she met me? Is it her fault that she felt caught between the promise she made to me and the pull of genuine love? And if you love someone, like I love Mary-you want them to be happy, right? You want what’s best for them, don’t you. So here is what I’m thinking I’ll do. We will just break things off mutually, tell our families and friends that we discovered we really weren’t meant for each other after all. That way, there’s no embarrassment, no judging or finger pointing. Mary can be with the man she loves, the kid can be with his true father-and me, well, I can get on with my life.”

          “Very generous of you, Joe” said Angelo. “A  lot of guys in your shoes wouldn’t be half so charitable.”  

          “Well, at least this way nobody gets hurt-I mean, not anymore than necessary. I want to do the right thing. And this is the right thing to do, isn’t it Angelo?”

          “How does Mary feel about it?” asked Angelo.

          “Well that’s what’s really strange about all this,” Joe replied. “Mary insists that she still loves me. She says that she would never betray me and that she has not been unfaithful to me. She wants to go through with the wedding. But of course, I know that can’t be true. I mean, she’s pregnant for crying out loud. You don’t get pregnant behind the  back of your husband to be without being unfaithful.”

          “Not as far as I know,” said Angelo. “So you think Mary is lying when she says she still loves you and wants to marry you?” Joe was silent for a moment.

          “Lying? Well not exactly. I wouldn’t put it that way. I mean, it isn’t like Mary to lie. She’s the most honest person I ever met. She always gave me the truth-even when I didn’t want to hear it. Now that I think about it, I can’t imagine her lying about anything-it’s not part of her makeup. It doesn’t seem possible.”

          “So,” said Angelo, “you believe her?”

          “Well of course not!” Joe snapped. “I mean, she is pregnant with a baby-and I know for a fact it’s not mine. Mary couldn’t have gotten pregnant without being unfaithful to me. You said so yourself.”

          “I didn’t say that,” said Angelo. “I said I didn’t see how that could happen as far as far as I know. But I don’t know everything. Fact is, I probably know next to nothing. My little life is just a splash in the pan over the life of the whole universe. Billions of years of stuff happened before I was born and billions more will probably happen after I’m gone. I don’t know a fraction of what it’s possible to know-let alone what can’t be known. I’m in no position to say something can’t happen just because I have never seen it before. Heck, I’ve never seen the Eifel Tower, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

          “Come on, Angelo,” said Joe, “That’s not the same thing and you know it. We both have it on good authority that the Eifel Tower is standing in Paris. Nobody disputes that. But you’re asking me to believe something nobody has ever seen. You’re asking me to believe the impossible.”

          “Well,” said Angelo, “Seems to me you don’t have much choice about that. You’ve got two impossibles in front of you. You tell me it’s impossible for you to believe that Mary could be pregnant without having been unfaithful to you; but you told me a while ago that you find it impossible to believe that Mary could lie to you. Seems to me one of those two impossibles has to be possible. And you are going to have to figure out which impossible you are going to believe.”

          “I’d love to believe Mary,” said Joe. “I would love to be able simply to take her at her word. But Angelo, how do you explain the pregnancy? How am I supposed to make sense out of that?”

          “You need an explanation in order to believe?” Angelo laughed. “I believe a whole lot of things I can’t explain-and I bet you do too. Every day when I come into this place, the first thing I do is turn on the computer. I don’t know how it works. I just turn it on and expect it to do what I want it too. When it doesn’t, I call a teenage kid down the block to come over and take a look at it. In an hour or so, he has it working again. I don’t know what makes the computer work; I don’t know what makes it crash; and I sure don’t know what that kid does to get it up and running again. But I trust the science and mechanics that make that computer go, and I trust that kid who has the smarts to fix it. At the end of the day, it’s not what you understand, Joe, it’s who you trust. Trust is a matter of the heart. Your brain will only take you so far. After that, you have to listen to your heart. Most important decisions we make in life are made in the heart. That’s a fact. So what’s your heart telling you, Joe?”

          “My heart,” Joe replied, “tells me that Mary is trustworthy, that her love is true and that she would never do anything to hurt me. But that is contrary to everything I know.”

“Well,” said Angelo, “You have to make up your own mind. But me? I listen to the heart every time.”

Joe was silent for a long time. Then he looked up from his half-finished club soda and said, “Angelo, I think you just saved me from making the worst mistake of my life. I still don’t understand all of this. I have no idea how it will all work out. But I know I can trust Mary. I know her love for me is true. I know that our lives are bound together by something that is bigger than both of us. Together, I believe we will find our way-wherever that is.”

“Best of luck to both of you,” said Angelo. “And Merry Christmas!”

 “Merry Christmas Angelo-and thanks.”

          As Joe stepped back out onto the street closing the door behind him, Angelo turned to the young man who was now wiping down the tables. “Time to close up for the day, Gabriel. Our work here is done.

          Angels. They don’t always have wings. They don’t always shine like the sun and they don’t always have haloes. Angels are, after all, simply the messengers God sends into our lives to nudge us in the direction of the manger and the New Born King lying within. They point us in the direction of Jesus. They remind us that God has a hand in what is happening in our lives; that God’s creation, God’s purpose for us and God’s love is so much bigger than we can see and understand. They call us to listen to our hearts. So be attentive this Christmas season to the voice of the angels God is sending into your life to bring you back into friendship with Jesus and back into the orbit of God’s love.

          And may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus in this holy season and always. Amen.   

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Isaiah 35:1-10

Psalm 146:5-10

or Luke 1:46b-55

James 5:7-10

Matthew 11:2-11

Prayer of the Day: Stir up the wills of all who look to you, Lord God, and strengthen our faith in your coming, that, transformed by grace, we may walk in your way; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Matthew 11:3.

John’s question seems reasonable. Last Sunday we met John at the banks of the Jordan River. The crowds were gathered about him. Everyone from the religious elite to the women of the street were listening intently to his announcement that the reign of God had drawn nigh, that One was coming soon who would level the proud and powerful, raise up the lowly and oppressed and redeem Israel. From rich to poor, righteous to reprobate, everyone it seems was streaming toward John for baptism.  

That was then. This Sunday we find John languishing in prison. The one John took to be “the One” seems a long way from bringing about the earthshaking transformation he was expecting and what he promised to his audience. Quite understandably, John wants to know whether and when Jesus is going to deliver. Is Jesus simply waiting for the right moment to “make his move?” Or has John been cruelly deceived? Did John, like so many people before him and so many people since, fall for a charismatic and persuasive personality who is all spectacle and no substance? Is Jesus really the one? Or should John, in the short time he has left, start looking elsewhere?

Sometimes it seems the church is expressing the same doubt about Jesus. A lot of what passes for Christianity these days, high church, low church, left wing, right wing, and all categories in between has little to do with Jesus. Lest anyone imagine that I am throwing stones across ecclesiastical lines, let begin with an example from my own ELCA. Toward the end of my ministry, I was attending a workshop sponsored by my church focusing on ways toward spiritual renewal for our congregations. For an hour and a half we engaged in exercises designed to stimulate conversation, discussion and strategizing for church growth. Toward the end of the meeting, one of the facilitators asked if we had any questions or comments about this proposed program. I raised my hand and asked the facilitator whether she was aware that not once during the entire process did the name of Jesus come up and whether that was inadvertent or intentional. (I thought about adding that I was not sure which answer would be the more disturbing). She did not have much of an answer. Another facilitator finally spoke up and said in a decidedly irritated tone, “I don’t think it is necessary to invoke the Trinity after every single paragraph.” (For the record, I do not recall any references to God the Father or the Holy Spirit either.)

I also find it intriguing that so many Christian activists are pushing to post the Ten Commandments in our nation’s classrooms, but not a single one that I know of is pushing for a posting of the Beatitudes. Moreover, while condemning same sex relationships on the basis of Leviticus 20:13, many of these same folks ignore Leviticus 19:34 admonishing Israel, “You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.” The latter is the verse Jesus lifts up in his Parable of the Last Judgement and identifies as one of the two “Great Commandments.” Matthew 22:37-39.

Admittedly, Jesus does not fit well into the religion of empire, the role into which it has been cast first by Rome and subsequently by the parade of kingdoms and nation states that followed. A messiah who admonishes his disciples not to resist violence with violence does not square with regimes claiming the right to extinguish human life in the interests of justice and national security. Christian ministers in the United States struggled throughout the 19^th Century (and before) to find a doctrinal rationale for slavery. They found some ammunition in the Hebrew Scriptures where slavery, while subject to statutes insisting on the humanity of the enslaved and protecting their interests to some extent, nevertheless acknowledged slavery as part and parcel of the social order. These ministers also appealed to Saint Paul’s letter to Philomen where the apostle appears to acknowledge Philomen’s legal claim over his runaway enslaved servant, Onesimus. But references to Jesus in these arguments are noticeably absent.

Similarly, Jesus does not fit in well with our culture’s currents insisting on male dominance or their hostility toward feminism. That hostility has become increasingly evident under the current Trump regime that speaks directly to the fear and insecurity of men fearing the loss of their privilege. As I have noted previously, ground of uncontested manhood has been shrinking for decades and continues to disappear as women occupy more roles formerly monopolized by men. The role of the man as master of his household, protector of his spouse and uncontested ruler over his children no longer holds. Men find themselves in a world where brute strength is no longer met with awe, jokes that demean women are no longer funny and clever pickup lines no longer work. It is disorienting, to say the least and, to a large degree, threatening. When J.D. Vance ridicules “childless cat women” and complains that men find themselves unable to express themselves by telling a joke or holding the door for a woman, one cannot help but hear the frantic undertone of a disenfranchised man-boy crying “respect my penis, goddamit!”

Religious support for the reassertion of “traditional manhood” is not lacking. For  example, in a recent book

Rev. Zachary M. Garris, pastor of Bryce Avenue Presbyterian Church (PCA) in White Rock, New Mexico writes in his recent book:

“Christianity is a masculine religion. Men have authority, and as go the men, so go the women and children. Yet we are facing a crisis of masculinity in the church. Men have failed to lead, including our pastors, and now our women are acting like men and our men like women. To recover from this crisis of masculinity, we must start with God the Father. We must start with worship. Christianity has a masculine message of a husband who laid down His life for His bride. But we have an effeminate church preaching an effeminate gospel, proclaiming Jesus as Savior while ignoring His command for male rule in His kingdom.” Zachary M. Garris, Masculine Christianity.

There is no “command for male rule” from Jesus. Again, while proponents of “muscular, he-man” Christianity and the subordination of women can cite a number of biblical passages in support of their assertions (and conveniently ignoring others that do not), they seldom (if ever) make any reference to Jesus. That is not surprising. Jesus had no interest in male claims of ownership and control over women. Indeed, he made clear that no such inequality has any place in the reign of God (See Matthew 22:23-33; Mark 12:18-27; Luke 20:27-40). In all four gospels the Resurrected Christ commissioned women as the first preachers to proclaims his resurrection. In all four gospels women are often the most perceptive to Jesus’ preaching and teaching. He frequently points to women as exemplars of the faith often lacking in the Twelve. (Matthew 15:21-28; Mark 12:41-44; Mark 14:3-9). Nowhere does Jesus suggest that there is a divinely established gender hierarchy either in nature or in the reign of God he proclaims.

The bottom line here is that disciples of Jesus read the scriptures through the lens of his obedient life, faithful death and glorious resurrection. Jesus teaches us that the two greatest commandments are to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” and “to love your neighbor as yourself.” Mark 12:28-31; Matthew 22:34-40; Luke 10:25-28). On these commandments hang the interpretation of all the law and the prophets as far as disciples of Jesus are concerned. Matthew 7:12. Thus, if your reading of the Bible leads you to place your trust in anything less than the God and Father of Jesus Christ or instructs you to treat any person created in God’s image with less than empathy, compassion and good will, it is not a Christian reading of the Bible. Diversity, equity and inclusion are not the “woke” agenda of any political or religious group. They are just plain Jesus. If that gores your political ox, get yourself another politics or another savior.

So John’s question remains: Is Jesus the one? Or should we look for leaders who are more pragmatic, more result oriented and more prepared to employ any means to a noble end? Is the gentle, peaceful and faithful way of Jesus in a cruel and violent world the way to a new creation? Or should we listen instead to those who tell us that you cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs? That the burden of caring for the blind, the lame and the sick is too great a strain on the national budget? Is the Sermon on the Mount meant only for neighbors with nothing between them but white picket fences and ill suited for the rough and tumble life of business, politics and geopolitical conflicts? Or is the Sermon a template for the life Jesus actually lived in a hostile world that finally took the shape of the cross, the same life to which he calls his disciples?

Note well that Jesus does not give John a direct answer to his question. Instead, he instructs John’s messengers to tell John what they have seen: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with a skin disease are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” Matthew 11:5-6. That is where we need to look. We need to turn our gaze to the southern border where faithful disciples of all traditions and other people of good will are caring for, advocating on behalf of and supporting refugees caught in the hellish no man’s land of detention camp life. We need to look toward those churches that are fighting for the rights of medical access for transgender children who have become victims of our government’s ideology and policies of hatred. We need to look at communities of faith all over the world whose faithful work and witness are opening blind eyes, lifting up those who cannot stand on their own and bringing a measure of healing to the sick and abandoned. Some will take offense at this good work, insisting that it is wasted. Others might dismiss it as too little, too late and too ineffective to make any real difference. Disciples of Jesus recognize them as signs of God’s inbreaking reign, trickles of water leaking through the dam. Today they look small and inconsequential. But they are signs that the dam of oppression and injustice is cracking and destined to break and, when it does, there will be no stopping the ensuing flood.

Here is a poem by Laura Hershey giving voice to the blind, lame and sick, frequently seen as “social problems” in our culture, but for whom Jesus proclaims liberation, healing and “good news.” Blessed are those who take no offense.

Special Vans

Source: Laura Hershey: On the Life & Work of an American Master (Unsung Masters Series, 2019). Laura Ann Hershey (1962–2010) was a poet, journalist, feminist and a disability rights activist. Hershey was a leader of protests against the paternalistic attitudes and images of people with disabilities inherent to Jerry Lewis’s MDA Telethon. She was known to have parked her wheelchair in front of buses to bring attention to the rights of those labeled “disabled.” Hershey was a regular columnist for the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation. She published on her own website, Crip Commentary, and was published in a variety of other magazines and websites. Hershey was admired for her wit, her ability to structure strong arguments in the service of justice and her spirited refusal to let social responses to her spinal muscular atrophy define the parameters of her life. She was also the mother of an adopted daughter. You can read more about Laura Hersey and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Isaiah 11:1-10

Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19

Romans 15:4-13

Matthew 3:1-12

Prayer of the Day: Stir up our hearts, Lord God, to prepare the way of your only Son. By his coming nurture our growth as people of repentance and peace; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

They will not hurt or destroy
    on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea. Isaiah 11:9.

Once again, the scriptures declare unequivocally that the God of Israel is not the God of Israel alone, but the God of all the earth. Again, the scriptures make clear that God is fiercely committed to equity for all people and how God’s particular concern is for “the poor” and “the oppressed of the earth.” Faith in the Biblical God leaves no room for “American exceptionalism,” “Christian Nationalism” or any other quasi religious belief that legitimizes the supremacy of any nation, tribe, race or ethnic group. That white evangelical Protestants remain the most vital religious constituency of the Republican Party and six in ten of other white Christian denominations consistently vote for this party that mocks these divine priorities as “woke,” illustrates how poorly such purported Christians understand the Bible they love to thump, but evidently do not understand.[1] The religions of American mythology, capitalist ideology, idolization of firearms, worship of wealth and those able to accumulate it have altogether overshadowed the liberating word of the gospel and made that word difficult for us to hear.

Still, the word is being heard and proclaimed in our midst. The bishops of my own ELCA recently issued a letter reminding us that we live in a time injustice and oppression and that “People of color continue to bear the devastating weight of racism woven into the fabric of our society. Transgender people, beloved by God, are being targeted with laws and rhetoric that deny their dignity and even their right to exist. These assaults on our siblings are not political abstractions—they are deep wounds in the body of Christ.” The bishops go on to call upon clergy and congregations to

• Pray for those who are vulnerable and for all who work for justice.
• Advocate in your communities, legislatures, and Congress for laws that protect migrants, advance racial justice, and safeguard LGBTQIA+ people.
• Engage in the holy work of hospitality, creating spaces of safety, affirmation, and belonging for all God’s children.
• Model respectful dialogue in a polarized world, seeking understanding rooted in love.
• Hold fast to hope, trusting that the Spirit is still at work renewing creation and reconciling the world to God.[2]

On the ground, Accompanying Migrant Minors with Protection, Advocacy, Representation and Opportunities is working with congregations to advocate and provide sanctuary for migrants and refugees threatened by oppressive government deportation measures. In response to the Supreme Court’s recent decision upholding the right of states to deny medical treatment for transgender children, the Episcopal Diocese of West Tennessee and the Southeastern Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America are advocating for policies protecting the rights and health care access of these children.[3] The Metro D.C. Synod, in concert with the ELCA’s Racial Equity Network, is facilitating the ministry of congregations in their work of furthering racial equity and justice by providing resources and opportunities for participation in this important work being done under the shadow of a regime committed to furthering the grip of white supremacy.[4] The Body of Christ is alive and well, albeit at the margins of society. Given what we know of the God we confess, we should not be surprised to find it there.

The prophet Isaiah’s vision of creation’s future is one of gentleness, equity and peace. It includes not merely humanity, but the whole terrestrial biosphere.

The wolf shall live with the lamb;
    the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the lion will feedtogether,
    and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall graze;
    their young shall lie down together;
    and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. Isaiah 11:6-7.

This “Peaceable Kingdom” is given expression in the above painting by Quaker artist, Edward Hicks. To our modernist ears, this looks and sounds surreal. Obviously, eliminating all predatory conduct in the animal world would result in ecological disaster. But neither these lines from the prophet nor Hicks’ painting were meant to be taken literally. They are rightly understood as poetic expressions of God’s desire for a world of ecological balance. It is a picture of God’s will “done on earth as in heaven.” In such a world, human beings take their place within creation, not over it. The realm of nature is not characterized as chaotic wilderness needing to be “tamed.” It is a place in which human animals live with all other animals, plants and the elements within their created limits. Unlike the ideology of capitalism, which views the world as a ball of resources to be exploited and despoiled of anything and everything that can be measured monetarily, the prophet understands the earth to be a living creature no less than the ones it hosts. Care for creation is the first command given to Adam at the dawn of creation. Genesis 2:15. The Bible is perhaps the greenest book ever written.

How does God bring such a world into being? Throughout human history, kingdoms have been established through conquest or violent revolution. At first blush, one might draw the conclusion that God’s reign will be similarly established. But a careful look at the text reveals the contrary. Isaiah announces that God’s messianic deliverer

“shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
    and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist
    and faithfulness the belt around his loins.” Isaiah 11:4-5.  

To be sure, the messiah strikes the earth, but not with a weapon of war. He slays the wicked, but not with the sword. This messiah’s weapons are his “mouth” and “the breath of his lips.” God’s only weapon against evil is God’s word. By means of that word, God interrupts the normal course of history and society. By means of the word God breaks into the messy particulars of our lives, introducing alternative realities, unrecognized possibilities and new avenues of travel to undreamed of places. God’s word enabled the prophet Isaiah to imagine a world that shatters all of our assumptions about what is real, what is possible and what the future might hold. Ultimately, that word becomes flesh, shattering our understandings of power, glory and righteousness. It is a word that even death cannot erase.

Can a word do all of that? In his recent article, The Night the Universe Looked Back at Me, Professor Belden C.  Lane discusses the concept of “singularity,” a term he defines as follows: “The singularity, at the bare minimum, is an event unlike anything previously conceived. It makes thinkable what has never been imagined before.”[5] He goes on to say that “a singularity may be marked by a relatively small event that occasions massive change.”[6] It might, for example, be triggered by the birth of a baby to a homeless couple in a barn somewhere in the backwaters of the Roman Empire. The child saved from poverty, hunger and neglect by the generosity of a small church might be the one to find a cure for cancer. Professor Lane points out that a singularity appears as “an uncontrollable and irreversible leap into a new reality.” I cannot think of a better way to describe the effect of Jesus’ resurrection upon his startled disciples. Suddenly, it becomes apparent that the power of the empire is not absolute. Death is not the last word on human existence. Life does not have to be the way it has always been. This new reality threatens to “turn the world upside down.” Acts 17:6.

Advent is the season of expectation. In a cynical world where so many of us think we have “seen it all,” the church is a people that expects surprises, refuses to surrender to the status quo, does not buy into the assumptions that violence is necessary to bring peace, that poverty and starvation are sadly inevitable and that economies serving the wellbeing of all are impossible. Instead, we trust in the visions of God’s reign delivered to us by the prophets and the testimony of apostles to the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We believe in a world that is alive and filled with creatures longing for the day when “the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”

Here is a poem by Mary Oliver in which we glimpse the advent of God’s peaceable kingsom about which Isaiah sings and to which Edward Hicks gives graphic expression.

Almost a Conversation

Source: Devotions, (c. 2017 by N.W. Orchard, L.L.C.) p. 75. Mary Oliver (1935-2019) was born in Maple Heights, Ohio. She was deeply influenced by poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay. Her work received early critical attention with the 1983 publication of a collection of poems entitled American Primitive. She is a recipient of both the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry and the National Book Award. She spent the latter years of her life in Provincetown on Cape Cod, MA before moving to Florida where she died. Many of her poems reflect the unique features, vegetation and wildlife of the Cape. You can read more about Mary Oliver and sample some of her other poems at the Poetry Foundation Website.

Edward Hicks (1780 – 1849) was an American folk painter and distinguished Christian minister of the Society of Friends (a.k.a. “Quakers”). He is known for his depictions of the farms and landscapes of Pennsylvania and New York, and especially for his many versions (about 25 extant, perhaps 100 painted) of The Peaceable Kingdom, one of which is shown above. The works depict Hicks’s hope that Pennsylvania, founded by Quaker leader William Penn, would prove to be the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy of justice, gentleness and peace between all men and beasts.

[1] PRRI, November 8, 2024. As I have previously argued, the GOP more than qualifies as a “Hate Group” as defined by the Southern Poverty Law Center and should be designated as such. See Time to Declare the Republican Party a Hate Group.

[2] See Hope from a History of Failure?

[3] Episcopal News Service, June 2024.

[4] Faith in Action-Racial Equity Network

[5] “The Night the Universe Looked Back at Me,” The Christian Century, (December 2025),  p. 45.

[6] Ibid.