Month: January 2008

Date: January 13, 2008
Scripture: Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17
Sermon: Rev. Kim Wells

The Leaning Tower of Pisa has become an architectural icon, having begun to list even while it was under construction.

But even more noteworthy in Pisa, in my opinion, is the Baptistery. It is a beautiful round building modeled after the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. It is set apart from the front of the cathedral. Outside, the baptistery is adorned with columns and arches in a Moorish style with John the Baptizer atop the dome. Inside, the baptistery is a large, spacious octagonal room bathed in light. In the center of the space, raised three steps, is an 8 sided baptismal font, the size of a small swimming pool. It was designed to accommodate adult immersions. There are four corner basins for infant immersion. The marble mosaic flooring of the chancel is stunning. The whole building feels ordered, radiating beauty, housing holiness. It is stunning, far more beautiful to me than the adjacent cathedral.

As we visited these monuments at Pisa, my daughter Angela asked what the baptistery was for; after all, there was a whole, huge, gorgeous cathedral. What was the point of the baptistery?

This beautiful sacred space was designed, created, and set apart to be used only for baptisms. The sacrament of baptism was considered so significant, there was a separate church built just for that ceremony. In the first century of Christianity, the celebration of the baptism of Jesus was one of the most important high holy days of the year, far more significant than the celebration of Christmas.

Baptism signifies God’s incomparable love. It is a human action intended to acknowledge God’s divine love and claim upon our lives. It is the mark of entrance into the faith community where God’s love is fully embodied, nurturing, supporting life, and a source of comfort and joy. Baptism is about belonging to God and God’s people gathered as the church.

In baptism God declares you are loved and you will be cared for by the church. At the heart of baptism is recognition of God’s love and care. Love so incredible, an incomparable pure gift. Love over which we have no control. Incomparable, unconditional love. Love not as a reward or payment and not given for good behavior or faithful service. Love not offered in response to right belief or moral conduct.

Baptism is about God’s love given. Simply given. And we have no choice in the matter. We do not determine God’s love. We can’t influence it. We can’t choose it. We can’t start or stop it. We don’t change it. God loves us. And God seeks us out. And claims us in baptism. To the church of Pisa this made baptism worthy of its own stunning space, set apart for only that special purpose.

In the story of Jesus’ baptism we hear of God’s love affirmed at baptism. We are told that a voice is heard: “This is my child, the Beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” God’s love for Jesus is declared. But God also expresses satisfaction with Jesus. Well, what God wouldn’t be pleased with such a child who healed people, forgave people, multiplied food, embodied justice and was willing to die for the cause. It’s everything God wants from a Messiah, according to Isaiah and the prophets.

But when we look at the wider context of the baptism story, we see it as the beginning of the Gospel. It comes before the story of the temptation in the wilderness, before any teaching or preaching or healing, or dying, before Jesus has begun his ministry, before any stories about what Jesus has done. We are told God declares, “This is my child, the Beloved, in whom I am well-pleased.” With no indications what’s behind, God’s love and blessing is given. And with no indications of what is ahead, it is received.

In that moment of baptism, Jesus is surrendering himself to God’s love. He is letting go of his control and entrusting himself to God. In the depths of the Jordan, the self-centered and self identity is drowned. In the flowing current, any self-serving agenda is carried away. God is pleased because Jesus is putting his life into God’s hands. He is willing to be who God intends. He is acceding to God’s will for his life. This pleases God. Not what Jesus has done, his deeds, but his willing spirit; which will, of course, lead to incredible deeds of powerful love.

It is this surrender when we acknowledge God’s love. When we acknowledge and celebrate God’s love, we learn to trust God. We learn to surrender ourselves to God because we know God only wants our highest good, our deepest joy. When we acknowledge the gift of love we have been given, we can surrender to that love which supports and nurtures us, empowers and embraces us. Gathered in by that love, we want to please our beloved. We want to delight the source of life and joy.

We become part of God’s dreams. We witness to hope in the face of despair. We witness to peace in the face of cruelty and violence. We share the light of justice, exposing oppression, bigotry and greed. We are freed from al other societal and cultural constraints. We are part of God’s powerful loving of this world. When we know we are beloved by God, it is our joy and delight to love as God loves.

When we surrender to God’s love; when we trust God; when we abandon our self-centeredness, we please God. When we are open to becoming the precious, unique individual God intends for each one of us to be, we please God. When we listen and tune out all the other voices, – the voices that say “You’re a failure.” “There’s nothing you can do.” “It can’t be changed.” “You have no choice.” “You’re not good enough.” “No one cares.” There will still be the voice that can’t be silenced; can’t be muted; can’t be turned off. The voice over which we have no control. The still speaking voice uttering love.

The L’Arche Communities were established by Jean Vamier as a refuge for people with mental handicaps, who are limited physically and intellectually. They live in community sharing their lives with those of “normal” abilities. Vamier tells this story about one of the residents.

“In one of our communities there is a man called Pierre who has a mental handicap. One day someone asked him, “Do you like praying?”
He answered, “Yes”.
He was asked what he did when he prayed.
The answer, “I listen”.
“And what does God say to you?”
“God says you are my beloved son.”
(Quoted from Resources for Preaching and Worship Year A: Quotations, Meditations, Poetry, and Prayers, compiled by Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild. P 48.)

It is all we need to hear. Interestingly, the Baptistery at Pisa has amazing acoustics. In its way it is an architectural marvel. A whisper uttered from the center of the rotunda reverberates and echoes throughout the expansive space. “You are my beloved.” That’s all we need to hear. Everything else will follow.

You, too, are baptized. Keep listening. Amen

Date: January 6, 2008
Scripture: Genesis 9:8-17; Exodus 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12; Matthew 17:1-12; Luke 24:1-12; Revelation 21:22 – 22:5.
Sermon: Let It Shine!
Pastor: Rev. Kim Wells

Any creche display or Christmas pageant is not complete without the Magi – later referred to as the 3 kings. We image three exotic, stately figures clothed in rich robes. These Magi, we are not actually told, were three. That has been inferred from the mention of the three gifts but the Magi were priests of the Zoroastrian religion which originated in present day Iran. Zoroastrianism is based on the teachings of the prophet Zoroaster, who is generally thought to have lived in the 10th or 11th century BCE. This religion is based on the worship of the one Creator God, Ahura Mazda. The sacred texts are called the Avesta. The Zoroastrian world view presumes the presence of Asha, which is truth and order. And the presence of chaos present as falsehood and disorder. These two forces, Asha and Chaos, are in conflict. Through good thoughts, good words, and good deeds, humans can align themselves with Asha and keep Chaos at bay.

Asha, the presence of truth and order, can be observed in the laws of the universe, the planets, stars, and astral bodies, and in the changing of the seasons. So Zoroastrian priests, or magi, were astrologers. They were also seen as magicians, sorcerers, and wise men. They were experts in the interpretation of dreams.

As Matthew’s gospel begins we are told that Magi from the east followed a star which led them to Jesus. These Magi are clearly foreigners. They are markedly different from the Jews of Palestine, Jesus’ cultural context. In world view, heritage, culture, and beliefs, these Magi are separate, distinct from the Jewish context into which Jesus is born. They are strangers from a strange land. They are entirely “other.”

So why are we told this story at the beginning of a gospel about the Jewish Messiah? A book addressed to a Jewish context and rising out of the Jewish tradition. A book aimed at solidifying belief that Jesus is the Messiah in the lineage of David, who was promised and awaited for centuries. Where does this story of the Magi fit in?

And not only are we told of the Magi following a star to Jesus, of a different culture, in a strange land, countries away necessitating a journey of months, if not years. We are told of religious leaders in Jesus’ context, experts in the Scriptures, who are blind to what is happening in their own back yard. Why does Matthew tell us this story?

The story of the Magi shows devout people on a search, a quest. They are responding to a longing, a deeply felt desire. They are following a star they believe leads to the fulfillment of their hopes and dreams. The desire for a sense of the sacred, for authentic life and for the true human community is not limited by culture, geography, time, or religion. It is a universal human longing. The abundant life rooted in communities of justice and compassion that is manifested in the life of Jesus speaks to the longings and desires of the whole human family, not just what has become the Judeo-Christian tradition. So, this story shows the common longing of all of humanity, the common quest, the shared hope. Present in every culture, every era, every religion, we share the desire for thriving life and wholeness.

This is my song, O God of all the nations,
a song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is
here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;
But other hearts in other lands are beating
with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.
— (United Church of Christ Hymnal p. 591)

We share the hunger to be part of something beyond ourselves. We pursue that desire in countless, different ways, but it is our common bond as human beings. So this story affirms our oneness as a human family with common hopes and dreams.

This story of the Magi also shows us foreigners being drawn into the narrative of another religion. We are shown a God that is bigger than one religion or one spiritual path. We are shown a God that is beyond just one religious tradition. We see respect for different belief systems. These Magi come to worship Jesus; to pay their respects; to offer lavish gifts befitting someone of extreme significance. Then they go back to Persia, now Iran, back to their religious context of Zoroastrianism, back to their jobs as priests, diviners, astrologers, and dream interpreters. They don’t stay in Palestine. They don’t become Jewish or Christians. They go home a different way. Who would not be changed by such a quest? But they go home. To their religion and their culture. Jesus can be honored and appreciated, respected, and revered, beyond the Christian faith and the church as he is a light that shines beyond one faith tradition. The mercy, compassion, justice, and power seen in Jesus can be appreciated universally.

In this story, then, we see Jesus as a point of commonality and reconciliation of all peoples. We see the recognition of our universal human longings for the sacred, for abundant life, and compassionate community. We see recognition of generosity and justice as the path to the fulfillment of our common hopes and dreams. We see universalism in this story that transcends time, culture, geography, religion.

I think it is very important for us to hear the messages of the story of the Magi in our current context. Far from being a magical tale of far off exotic royalty, this story offers intense and significant insight for us today.

The autumn issue of the Harvard Divinity Bulletin is devoted to peace. In the introduction to the Journal, Professor Donald Swearer explains that there is a basic assumption about the exclusivity of Christianity. “Focus on peace building comes at a time when the world’s religions are castigated by vocal critics as instigators of divisive exclusivism, promoters of hatred, and perpetuators of violence. These critics site the examples of Sunni-Shi’a sectarian bloodletting in Iraq, Hindu-Muslim conflict in India, Buddhist-inspired nationalistic chauvinism in Sri Lanka, the legacy of the Roman Catholic-Protestant animosities in northern Ireland, Roman Catholic-Orthodox-Muslim conflict in Bosnia, and the rise of religious fundamentalism in the United States and globally” (Harvard Divinity Bulletin, Autumn 2007, pg.1.)

The perspective presumed that God is revealed in Jesus Christ and that Christianity is the only valid path of salvation. We live in a setting that assumes the superiority of Christianity. And we live in a time when the bond between Christianity and the agenda of American Empire have become inextricably linked. This context has dulled our vision and distorted our perception of God’s greater hope and dreams. Like the religious leaders in Matthew’s gospel, our political/cultural context is affecting our vision. The strange priests from the east perceived God’s presence and activity and were led by a star to Jesus. The chief priests and scribes, trained to look for their Messiah, couldn’t see it, because they were blinded by the power structure, the political context, and fear. We face the same challenge today.

Friends, if the people of Iraq were Christian you can bet the United States would be proceeding in a very different fashion. In my travels this fall, while waiting to board a plane, I got to talking with a group of women who had been to a Christian Women’s Conference in Jacksonville. When they heard I was a pastor they went on about the wonderful experience they had had. The powerful expression of faith. The incredible evidence of the Holy Spirit. They were pumped. Then one woman mentioned that at the same hotel at the same time there was a convention of Muslims gathered to celebrate one of their holy days. The women had on their scarves and long dresses. There were a lot of them all over the hotel. And this Christian woman went on about how strange it felt. How it felt uncomfortable. How odd it was to have those Muslim people there while we were there. In a discreet, diplomatic way, I asked why. And she replied, “To them, we’re the enemy.” Then I asked, “Were you treated in a hostile or disrespectful manner?” “Oh no,” she said. “They were very nice and friendly.”

How incredibly ironic that Jesus, who revealed our common longings; Jesus who showed a God larger than any one tradition; Jesus was sent to reconcile all humanity, has become a source of separation and division.

The story of the Magi invites us to see beyond the exclusivism of cultural Christianity which serves the agenda of Empire. God’s light is not limited to one religion or nation or time period. God is not confined by culture or class.

The story of the Magi shows us the fulfillment of God’s vision that all nations stream to the divine presence and the promise to Abraham that his lineage will bless all nations. Right from the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew the writer refuses to let God’s revelation of presence in Christ Jesus to be confined to one culture, time, place, or religious tradition. In Christ Jesus, God shows God’s presence – with all of humanity for all time.

As this New Year begins, may we have the courage to search for the divine presence. To risk getting lost. To experience new places beyond the familiar and comfortable. To overcome our fears. To offer our best to the quest. To be surprised. To let Jesus really save us. Then, with the Magi, we too will be overwhelmed with joy. Amen