Month: January 2019

Baptism of our Lord; January 13, 2019

Pastor Rebecca Ellenson; ICCM

It was the middle of the night in Mansfield MN, in the winter of 1992 when I got a call from the hospital.  Lenore had gone into labor early. I was pregnant too and we were due about the same time. The baby was two months early and the parents wanted me to come quickly to baptize him before he was airlifted to Rochester’s neonatal unit. They had already loaded Lenore into an ambulance for transport when I got there, but Brian, the baby’s father met me and led me to the delivery room where the doctors and nurses were circled around the tiniest little boy.  His fingers were like paper matches, his head the size of a tangerine. 

As someone helped me gown and mask, I asked for water. I opened my occasional services manual and I dipped my finger in the medicine cup filled with sterile water I had been given. I looked to Brian and asked the baby’s name.  Dripping a few drops on his head I said, “Paul, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”  While the medical staff inserted an umbilical cord-IV I made the sign of the cross on Paul’s tiny forehead, “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.”  I invited the medical staff to join with me in the Lord’s prayer beforee they whisked him off to the helicopter. 

As Brian and I returned to the room Lenore had been in he asked, “Is that all there is to it? Why do you do all that other stuff in church then?”  I explained that in infant baptism there are three promises—the promise of God to claim the child in Christ, the promise of the parents and sponsors to raise the child in faith, and the promise of the congregation to support the family and surround them with the resources of faith, welcoming the child as a fellow member of the body of Christ. I reassured him that when Paul was strong enough to join us in worship, we would complete the other parts.  A few months later we did just that. It was a happy day in church then, with little Paul out of danger, his big sisters standing with his parents and sponsors, the congregation breathing sighs of relief and joy after carrying the family in their prayers for months.  I often think of that baptism, the fear that first night in the hospital, the many sleepless nights for the family… the three promises of claiming love and all the ways they work.

Here in this community of faith we come from all different denominational backgrounds, traditions and locations. Most of you have primary membership in a congregation in the USA or Canada.  Some of you were baptized as infants, some as teens or adults.  There may be some of you here today who have never been baptized—if that’s the case I’d love to talk with you more privately. Our various doctrines could divide us, even as the scriptures about Baptism indicate the unifying aspect of baptism. No matter the age, the setting, or the method—the waters of baptism claim us, hold us, call us to live in God’s love, to love others with God’s love, to know that we are loved with an immeasurable grace.

Paul says in 1 Cor 12: 13 “for we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.”  We could add, whether Baptists or Lutherans, Evangelicals or Progressives… we are one body in Christ.  And in Galatians 3: 27 Paul wrote, “for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves in Christ.” It is traditional to wear white for baptism, symbolizing the cleansing of our sins and emphasizing that we put on Christ.  In Ephesians 4: 4-6 Paul reiterates again, “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to on  hope; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all in all.” 

Baptism is God’s embrace, welcoming us into the fellowship of the church.  We are united with Christ in baptism into the life, death and resurrection of our Lord.  In the passage from the Old Testament today we can hear God’s affirming claim on our lives, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One.  You are precious in my sight and honored, and I love you. …I created you for my glory!”

Six years ago, Steve and I celebrated our 10^th wedding anniversary with a trip.  We were thrilled to be able to visit Turkey, spending a day in the ancient city of Ephesus, where Paul preached to the Gentile converts. It’s a stunning archeological site from about the time of Christ with miles of marble streets and an amphitheater that could seat 15,000 people.  There are crosses carved into the doorposts juxtaposed with carvings of Roman gods and goddesses.  We stood on one spot and saw a temple to one of the Roman gods, the Basilica of St. John, and the ruins of an early Mosque. 

For me, though, the most amazing thing I saw was a baptismal font, carved in the shape of a cross and a coffin at the same time.  Each arm of the cross was a stairway, descending or ascending, 6 feet from a 6-foot long trough.  I read that in those days the candidate for baptism would descend one side and lie down into the watery tomb three times, with the priest asking before each dunking, the first time “Do you believe in God the Father,” the candidate would rise up sputtering for breath, “I Believe” the second time “Do you believe in God the Son,” and the third time “Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit.” 

After their three responses the baptized would rise and ascend the stairs on the other side, with their new Christian name, having died to sin, having been buried with Christ, rising to new life in forgiveness and promise on the other side.  When I saw that font I recalled Paul’s words from Romans chapter 6: “All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death.  We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his.” 

John the Baptist may have been one of the members of the community of the Essenes, an ascetic group of Jews from that time period who practiced a strict adherence to Jewish law. They had a special concern for purity, and a belief in the imminent coming of Messiah. John’s baptism for forgiveness and repentance may have been an adaptation of the Jewish patterns of ritual cleansing. John was doing something new that day when Jesus and the other people were baptized.

Luke tells us that the heaven was opened and God spoke directly to Jesus. It’s a moving and dramatic scene – Jesus emerging from the waters of baptism as the Spirit alights upon him. What power and symbolism there is in that scene, an Epiphany—a shining revelation of God’s presence encountering Jesus – and, through Jesus, all of us. God removes all that separates us from God and meets us where we are.

This is the mystery and the power that Baptism offers– that God comes to meet us where we are and as we are, with water and the word that we might know that we, too, are beloved children of God and that God is well pleased also with us.

This week, as you swim, or wash the dishes, or drink your first glass of water each day, or as you bathe or wash your hands, even as you gaze at the waves or the sunset over the ocean, I invite you to make the sign of the cross on your foreheads in memory of God’s claim on you. 

Pastor Adam Hamilton handed out waterproof tags for his congregants to hang in their showers with these words.  “Lord, as I enter the water to bathe, I remember my baptism. Wash me by your grace. Fill me with your Spirit. Renew my soul. I pray that I might live as your child today, and honor you in all that I do.”  Perhaps you could post a little note in your own baño with what your baptism means to you. 

On this Sunday we remember the Baptism of our Lord. And we remember our baptismal identity as part of our celebration. Today we can remember that Jesus came as one of us and in our union with him we are also caught up in the power of the creating and redeeming God.  We are clothed in Christ, we are one body in one baptism. 

ICCM; Pastor Rebecca Ellenson; January 6, 2019; Epiphany

It seems that Christmas just won’t let go this year.  The gospel for today seems to be the Christmas story all over again.  A closer look reveals that this is not the story we’re used to hearing.  We’re used to Luke’s version of the Christmas story, complete with the songs of Mary and Elizabeth, the journey to Bethlehem on a donkey, the search for a room, the stable, the shepherds, the angels.  That’s the reading assigned for Christmas each year.  Today’s version of the birth of Jesus come from Matthew’s gospel and is the assigned reading for the day of Epiphany, January 6^th, which only falls on a Sunday every 7 years or so.  That means it’s hardly ever the assigned text for preaching.

There’s very little overlapping material between these two different Christmas gospels. So, today I want to look at the differences and focus in on the diversity of witness we find even within the Bible itself.  A bit of background first…  of course, you know that we have four gospels.

Mark was the first gospel written, sometime around 60 or 65 AD.  It has a particular character to it—it’s short, direct and immediate in focus.  The stories are brief and urgent.  Mark doesn’t mention the birth or childhood of Jesus at all but starts his gospel with Jesus baptism by John.

Matthew and Luke were both written later, after 70 AD.  We know, from historical documents, that the temple in Jerusalem was destroyed in 70 AD. Since both Matthew and Luke refer to the destruction of the temple, we can date those gospels as later than Mark’s which doesn’t mention it at all.   Matthew’s and Luke’s gospels both follow the same general outline as Mark’s.  Most scholars think that they each had access to Mark’s gospel and used it as their foundation. 

Matthew was most likely written in Greek and then translated into Aramaic which tells us he was writing for a community of mainly Greek speaking Jewish Christians.   He’s interested in showing the way that God is reaching out beyond just Jews with a messiah for all the people.  He is interested in showing Jesus as both the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies and the bringer of a whole new era too.

Luke’s gospel has a literary elegance to it.  It’s the gospel that’s most focused on the poor and on Jesus as the bringer of justice.  It was written by the same hand that wrote the Acts of the Apostles. 

John’s gospel follows a completely different outline and includes many passages that don’t occur in the other three.  John focused on the divinity of Christ and has a sort of anti-Jewish theme that indicates that it was written much later, perhaps as late as 100 AD, after the Christians as a group had time to separate a bit more from the Jews.  John’s gospel is marked by long monologues and poetic passages, many layers of meaning and rich symbolism instead of the stories, parables and sayings of the earlier writings.  John doesn’t write about Jesus birth or childhood at all.  Instead he gives us a poetic and symbolic passage about the Word becoming Flesh, the Light shining in the darkness.

There is a rich diversity of thought and even a pluralism of ideas within the Bible when we compare the various writers and the different schools of thought represented.  I find that diversity of thought stimulating—it gives us room to explore, sets the pattern for us to see that God’s revelation to us isn’t finished.  God is still speaking today. 

In Native American storytelling the speaker will sometimes begin a tale by saying, “I don’t know if this really happened, but I know it’s true.”  It’s only our modern, factual focus that gives us trouble when we compare Matthew and Luke’s Christmas gospels and see that they don’t match exactly.  When we read the scriptures, the questions we ask make a big difference.  The gospel writers weren’t intending to write a historical report.  They crafted their writings to answer the questions: What does it all mean?  What is God’s message to us?   How does God speak to us today in this text?  Those questions lead to a rich depth and a variety of understandings over the ages. So, let’s dig into Matthew’s version of the Christmas story boldly, confident that there is a message there for us today.  

It seems to be another Christmas story but without the shepherds, angels, donkey, inn or stable.  We have Jesus born in Bethlehem and the wise men coming from the east looking for the baby with their gifts.  We have King Herod with his concern and suspicion and his false words about wanting to worship the newborn king.  We have the star of David shining over Bethlehem, leading the magi to the baby and then a dream of warning to the same magi, prompting their quick retreat by another road. 

All we know for sure about the wise men was that they came from the East, following the rising of a star and looking for a newborn King.  They went to Jerusalem–the place of local power.  King Herod took them seriously, calling them into his presence so he could learn everything they knew. After their audience with Herod the magi continued to follow the star until they were overwhelmed with joy at finding Jesus and Mary.  They gave their gifts–gold a gift for kings, frankincense an incense used by priests in Temple worship, and myrrh a healing and embalming salve.  Each of those strongly symbolic gifts that tell something about Jesus: a king sorts, a religious leader, a healer, and a man who would die. 

The wise men were not Jews.  They were from the Median tribe of ancient Persia–an area that is now part of central Iran.  They were priests of a religion that worshipped a god called Zoroaster.  The religion started in about the time period of our OT lesson for today–500 years or so before Christ. As priests, they were responsible for offering sacrifices, making prophecies, and reading the stars. They were astrologers.  There are historical records of a star from the time of Jesus’ birth that rose in the daytime with the sun.  It was called the Mesori star, which by the way, means the Birth of a Prince.  That is about all we know about the magi and their visit to Jesus.

We’re left with questions:  Why did they come?  What significance does their bowing down before Jesus have?  What does it mean that these strangers to Israel would recognize Jesus while no one else did?  Why in the world is the glory and wonder of Christmas clouded over by the presence of these astrologers, these people who deal in the occult and magic? 

And what about this business with Herod.  His words “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage”, reek of falseness and his secret scheming to get his hands on the child.  In the very next section of Matthew’s gospel, a section often called the massacre of the holy innocents, we read that when Herod found out he had been tricked by the magi he was furious and gave orders for all the children in and around Bethlehem under the years of age of two to be killed.  Clearly, Matthew doesn’t give us the happy, glorious, wondrous Christmas gospel we are used to.

Matthew pushes us back into the real world, showing us that Jesus came not just into a peaceful stable in Bethlehem, complete with singing choirs of angels and adoring shepherds.  No, Jesus also was born into a world of manipulations and darkness, a world filled with scheming political figures and distant travelers from other faiths.  It is good news that the baby we celebrate as the Messiah cannot be imprisoned in the sheltering confines of romanticized scenes or memories.  Christmas speaks to the harsh realities of life, too. 

Today we move into the season of Epiphany.  The word Epiphany means the shining or the showing.  The season that starts today has historically been a time to focus on how God is shown to us in our world. Epiphany celebrates the identity of this baby being made clear.  The season’s symbol is the revealing light of the star, shining its light on all the dark places too. 

Matthew’s gospel reminds us that the effects of Jesus’ birth reach beyond our happy celebrations. The magi were astrologers from the East who reminded the Jews of that time period that Jesus could not be possessed by the Jews alone.  The plotting of Herod reminds us that the powers of the government cannot contain the love of God.  Herod was not able to stop the message of God’s grace from getting through. Yes, eventually Jesus was put to death.  But not even the governmental power to execute a person was enough to stop the love and power of God. 

Today’s gospel is a strong reminder to us that God’s gift of grace is to all creation, that God’s grace enters the world of shady dealing hucksters and powerful political manipulation with an even stronger power.  Today’s gospel brings Christmas out of the manger scene and into the real world where, like it or not, we live.  AMEN

Let us pray— O God, you continue to show yourself to people in every age.  As we move past the seasonal glitter, as we put away the Christmas decorations and lights for another year, teach us to look for your coming all around u.  Open each of us to your word for us today.  AMEN

Dec 29, 2018; 1 Christmas C; ICCM; Pastor Rebecca Ellenson; Growing Up;

Do you remember being twelve years old? I was in 6^th grade, I had braces and glasses and was physically quite small.  My grandmother had died the year before and I was asking all kinds of questions about faith and life, death and meaning. Twelve is an in-between time. Cognitively most 12-year-olds can do some abstract thinking and are beginning to separate from their families in terms of identity. At that age we are engaged in the important work of growing up.

When Jesus was 12, he and his parent went to Jerusalem as they did each year for the festival of the Passover. It’s strange to think about Jesus as an adolescent. Luke is the only gospel writer to give us any information about that stage of Jesus’ life.  Like pencil marks on the door frame Luke measures Jesus’ life by ritual scenes.  Earlier in this chapter Jesus was dedicated in the temple. Later he is baptized in the Jordan and then faces temptations in the wilderness.  We learn how Jesus was shaped by his parents and by the rhythms and rituals of Jewish life. It was about the time for his bar-mitzva.  The words mean the “son of the law”.  It was a coming of age rite where adults would no longer speak for him. He spoke for himself there in the temple and the others listened. 

We get a fully human portrayal of Jesus in this gospel as he grows into who he will become. I hope we can refrain from reading back into these early stories the doctrinal formulations many of us know by heart, you know, “Of one being with the Father, through whom all things were made… true God from true God…” 

Even after his baptism though, Jesus had to live into what it meant to be God’s son.  In the wilderness he was tempted with his identity.  “If you are the Son of God turn these stones into bread…” Jesus didn’t rely on some kind of super human power there in the desert.  He depended on the sustaining power and presence of God and God’s word. 

From the cross he heard those same challenges thrown at him by the crowd.  “He saved others, let him save himself is he is the Messiah.”  Nailed to the cross, we see Jesus reaching inward to the words he learned as a child, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”  And we hear an echo of today’s text, “Do you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” The Word of God dwelt in him richly, at every step, from the time he was 12 until the day he died. 

In our text today we see Jesus growing up, establishing his identity.  That task involves creating relationships, setting priorities, making decisions. It’s a process we all engage in.  We choose values and beliefs that structure our lives. Along the way we make mistakes, get lost, backtrack, and sometimes just need to start over. Ultimately, growing up means moving out and finding a new home. This may be a geographical move, but most certainly it involves psychological and spiritual moves.

It is no surprise that Mary would be in a panic when she discovers that Jesus is not with the group of travelers. With great anxiety she and Joseph search for him. Three days later the one who was lost has been found. Mary’s first words are, “Child, why have you treated us like this?” What I really hear is, “Where have you been young man? Your father and I did not survive angel visits, birth in a manger, and living like refugees in Egypt only to have you get lost in Jerusalem.” But Jesus isn’t the one who is lost. He knows who he is and where he belongs. Mary and Joseph are the ones who are learning the most.  This gospel may be about growing up but not just about Jesus’ growing up. It is about Mary and Joseph and you and me growing up too.

On some level Jesus is the one who pushes Mary and Joseph to grow. Children have a way of doing that to their parents. They challenge us to look at our world, our lives, and ourselves in new, different, and sometimes painful ways. That is exactly what Jesus’ question to Mary does. She had put herself and Joseph at the center of Jesus’ world. His question was about to undo that.

“Why were you searching for me?” he asks. “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Jesus has put the Father at the center of his world and asks Mary and us to do the same, to move to the Father’s home.

Authentic growth almost always involves letting go and stepping forward into something new.  Carl Jung said we live our lives in too small shoes.  We resist the change required by growth. How true.  Part of Mary’s pondering in her heart must have been about letting go of her “boy Jesus” image. Jesus was born of Mary but his identity becomes so much more. He is with her but does not belong to her. She can give him love but not her thoughts or ways. He is growing into his own soul’s purpose. 

This movement of Jesus is not a rejection of his earthly parents but a re-prioritizing of relationships. It is what he would ask of Simon and Andrew, James and John. “Follow me” would be the invitation for them to leave their homes, their nets, their fathers and move to a different place, live a different life, see with different eyes. It is today what he asks of you and me.

Given the demographics of this congregation it’s safe to say on one level we’re all grown up.  But on another level, we’re never really done moving into deeper and more authentic relationships with God, our world, each other, and ourselves. We move through stages all our lives, from one pair of small shoes into the next size, from one level of awareness to the next.

Maybe you’ve heard the joke about the Rabbi, the Priest and the Lutheran Minister debating when life begins.  That’s easy says the priest, life begins at conception.  No, life begins when the baby takes it’s first breath and starts to cry says the minister.  Oh, you’ve got it wrong says the Rabbi, Life begins when the last child moves out and the cat dies.  Certainly there is some truth to that joke.  Life begins again and again offering opportunities for joy and sorrow, for growth and learning as we go along. One of the early church fathers, Irenaeus, described this truth when he said The Glory of God is a fully alive human being. 

I read a story this week about a grandmother told by her granddaughter.  At the time of her grandfather’s death, at 90 years of age, her grandparents had been married for over 60 years. Grandma felt the loss deeply and retreated from the world, entering into a deep time of mourning for nearly five years. 
 
One day the granddaughter visited, expecting to find Grandma in her usual withdrawn state. Instead, she found her sitting in her wheelchair beaming. When the granddaughter didn’t comment quickly enough about the obvious change, Grandma asked her “Don’t you want to know why I’m so happy? Aren’t you even curious?”

She explained her new understanding: “Last night figured out why I’ve been left to live without my husband. Your grandfather knew that the secret of life is love, and he lived it every day. I have known about unconditional love, but I haven’t fully lived it. … All this time I thought I was being punished for something, but last night I realized that I have a chance to turn my life into love, too.”  Although age inevitably continued on its course, her life was renewed. She became a force for reconciliation and good relationships in her family. In the last days of her life, the granddaughter visited her grandma in the hospital often. As she walked toward her room one day, the nurse on duty looked into her eyes and said, “Your grandmother is a very special lady, you know…she’s a light.” Yes, love and joy lit up her life and she became a light for others until the end.

Our text from Colossians today describes the growth pattern set before us.  It involves letting go of what is safe and familiar, a necessary process if we are to grow in the love and likeness of Christ.  It means letting go of an identity that is limited to our biological family, job, community reputation, ethnic group, or political party and trusting that who we are is who we are in God. It means that we stop relating to one another by comparison, competition, and judgment and begin relating through love, self-surrender, and vulnerability. It means that we let go of fear about the future and discover that God is here in the present and that all shall be well. We stop ruminating on past guilt, regrets, and sins and accept the mercy and forgiveness of God and each other. We see our life not in opposition to others but as intimately related to and dependent upon others.

Our Colossians text puts it out there for us.  We are to put on Christ, to let the word of Christ dwell in us richly, and to live in the name of our Lord Jesus.  Amen.