Advent Reflection: Are You Ready?

Advent is traditionally a season of preparation. As we begin this year's Advent, I can't help but think this year has already been a full one of getting ready. As a country, we prepared for online everything, then reopening, then re-closing...kind of. The spring was full of suggestions for filling your time: online classes, sour dough starters, and more. The summer was filled with protests for racial justice and unfortunate examples of riots and violence, and we were preparing with listening groups, and reading groups. Then the fall became a constant exercise in learning about how to do school online while working at home, or school in person while working from home, or school at grandparents house while parents worked
somewhere, or learning pods, or tutors...and then constantly second guessing your decisions or having others do it for you. 

No wonder we’re exhausted. And now the scripture and tradition tells us to get ready and I think, more? Maybe we need to reframe what Advent and Christmas mean this year. Maybe we need to “be awake” (Mark 13:37) not by rushing around and being busy, but standing still. Let’s slow down and be reminded of what matters this year: Jesus has come, is coming, and will come. He entered a troubled world full of fear and injustice and spoke peace and gave his life. He will come again to fulfill the promises of resurrection and a new creation. And He is coming even now, in water, wine, bread, and acts of love. 

This year, I'm trying to "be ready," not by making myself busier, but by finding time to slow down, be still, and know that Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. 

From the Gray, 
Pastor Ari

“If you’ve never stared off into the distance, then your life is a shame.” -Counting Crows, “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby”

The World Needs Your Story

(Note: This post first appeared in my church's newsletter for December 2019.)

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” -John 1:5

When I was young, I once got it in my head to make a list of all the “heroes” of the Bible who had been “perfect” so that I could study them more closely. I was disappointed to realize how hard this was. Abraham and Sarah were impatient and lied. Moses lost his temper. David? Adultery and murder. Peter? Denial. Paul? Murder again. Adam and Eve? Um...no.

Over time, my disappointment transformed as I made two realizations. First was that the point is not for me to be perfect, but trust that God’s love is perfect. God’s grace shines in the darkness not because of human perfection, but because of godly persistence. God has always used imperfect people to do the things of heaven here on earth. God always seems to show up in the wrong place: in the wilderness, among the sinners, in a manger, and, above all, at the cross. 

Second, that meant that my imperfect life could be used by God, too. I didn’t need to be perfect, but faithful; not flawless, but following. The good news of the Gospel is about a god who comes to heal, help, and correct the broken people and places of this world. God takes flesh not only in Jesus at Bethlehem, but in us, too.

Our job as Christians isn’t to never make mistakes, but to allow the grace of God to heal us and then share how that healing matters with others. That is the real story of the heroes of the Bible. God reshaped their lives and the effects are an inspiration to us today. In the same way, your life, your story is important for others. 

We may not think of ourselves as heroes of faith or important people in the world, but your story of faith -- your victories and joys and doubts and struggles, and where God is in the midst of them -- are exactly the good news someone needs to hear. This Advent and Christmas, remember that God is with us not just in the Jesus in the manger, but in the Jesus who lives in you. May God use you to light the darkness.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Here in my head full of shame, you pick me up and say I look like you.” -Jars of Clay, “Sing”

The Third Sacrament

(Note: This was first written for my church's winter newsletter in December 2018)

In the Lutheran church, we acknowledge two sacraments: communion and baptism. Martin Luther felt there needed to be some Biblical basis for defining a sacrament and cut back on the total of Roman Catholic sacraments. The definition he settled on had three parts: a sacrament had to a) be commanded by Jesus, b) have a physical sign, and c) have a promise of grace attached to it. 

A few practices and traditions that are important to us fail to be a full sacrament because they lack one of these three. Confession and forgiveness for instance is commanded by Jesus and has a promise of grace, but not a physical sign. Foot washing is commanded and has a physical sign, but not a promise of grace. 

Over the years of being a pastor, I’ve come to believe there is a third sacrament that should be acknowledged and celebrated in church. I believe it is a sacrament even though as far as I know it isn’t acknowledged as one in any denomination. I believe the third sacrament is us, the Church itself, the Body of Christ. 

I could spend more time explaining my thinking, but in short, I believe Jesus commands us to be together (John 14:20-21), promises us grace when we come together (Matthew 18:20), and there is a physical sign — each other. 

I share this idea with you because we are heading again towards the seasons of Advent and Christmas. In these seasons, we share presents and carols and egg nog, but at their heart is an idea closely tied to this third sacrament: incarnation or God made flesh. In this time of year, we remember the arrival of God’s son, Jesus, in human form. In taking on flesh, he became a blessing to those around him, a source of light in a time of darkness, and a sign of God’s love to those in need. 

In another time that feels full of darkness, there is comfort in this story. Our politics are a mess, natural disasters and mass shootings seem to happen weekly, wars continue to rage around the world and even allies don’t seem as trustworthy as they once did. That God took flesh to offer hope and life in a similar time is a sign of grace, but we need also remember it is not in the past. 

Jesus didn’t just come in the flesh; he comes in the flesh. And just as he did in Palestine centuries ago, he still comes to be a blessing to those around him, a source of light in a time of darkness, and a sign of God’s love to those in need. Because of the work the Holy Spirit continues to do in us, I believe we are a sacrament, a source of grace and life to each other and the world around us. 

May we know the presence of Christ this holiday season. May we see Christ take flesh in those around us and may we be open to how God takes flesh in us. May we be surprised (have “epiphanies”) about the ways God is working around us. And may God use us to be a blessing to the world around us. 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

"When everyone you thought you knew deserts your fight, I'll go with you." -twenty one pilots, "My Blood"

Taking Time

Soundbites are fast. Sharing stories takes time.

Certainty is convenient. Nuance takes time.

Apathy is easy. Curiosity takes time.

Being outraged is simple. Working for positive change (maybe in yourself?) takes time.

Telling makes others listen to you. Conversing requires listening and thinking... and takes time.

All the things on the left tend to build walls. The things on the right tend to build relationships.

Today I'm thinking that Christmas means God took the time (nine months, then thirty years, then three days) to build a new kind of relationship with us. What do I want to build with my time?

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“Can't stop the spirits when they need you. This life is more than just a read through.” -Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Can't Stop"

The Bible Says Hospitality Means What?

What is hospitality?

Usually I think about hospitality as preparing a meal for my friends or (ugh) cleaning my home before company arrives. There are other thoughts that come to mind, but most of them involve sharing a common space with people I know and love.

This morning, though, I stumbled across a fact that made me rethink what hospitality should be.

The Bible talks an awful lot about hospitality, not always directly, but certainly in terms of loving each other and following the Golden Rule. There are many scenes of dinners and gatherings with guests in both testaments. Hospitality was a huge deal in the ancient Near East and poor hospitality could lead to condemnation and death.

What's fascinating is that the Greek word for hospitality, the word used in the New Testament, is philoxenia, which literally means "love of the stranger." In other words, hospitality isn't just welcoming people we already know and like, it's expecting and making space for the stranger, the other.

It is the hospitality shown when Abraham warmly greets three strangers wandering through the desert and is blessed because of it. It is the hospitality shown in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, where a religious minority stops to care for a wounded man who belongs to a group that has avoided and shunned the Samaritans.

As I pondered the root of this Greek word, it struck me just how far from this idea we often are. Rather than loving strangers, we are encouraged to fear them. Our 24-hour news cycle especially loves to bombard us with stories that are filled with scary words and images. "This person/thing hurt/poisoned/stole from someone like you! Beware!" Politicians love to throw around the idea that the other side will destroy the world if given the chance. The overall message we are fed is that anyone who has a different religion, political opinion, sexuality, age, class, or education probably shouldn't be trusted and certainly not shown hospitality (at least not a hospitality that looks like "loving a stranger").

Certainly there are reasons and times to be cautious and act wisely, but I think there is a great difference between a posture that assumes anyone that's different is likely a threat and one that assumes most people are decent and worthy of respect.

Interestingly, Jesus came as a stranger into this world, unrecognizable as God because of how he was born and where he lived. John's gospel makes note of this and that most people "did not receive him." Jesus the stranger didn't find hospitality. But those who did welcome him became "children of God." In a sense, Christianity is based entirely on hospitality: on God's willingness to love us who are estranged and our willingness to love the strange God who shows up in a manger and dies on a cross.

And then we are asked to share that same hospitality with others on earth.

In this season, many of us are preparing to practice hospitality in our homes or to be received by the hospitality of others. Perhaps this Christmas season we can pause and consider what stranger we might welcome to our tables... and our hearts. Then the angels' proclamation of "Peace on earth! Goodwill to men!" might ring a little louder and richer.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“If we can reach beyond the wisdom of this age into the foolishness of God, that foolishness will save.” -Rich Mullins, "Let Mercy Lead"

What's Coming to You...

(Note: This post was originally written for my church's newsletter.)

It happened this past week in mid-November. Both my kids at different times asked the age-old question, “When is Christmas going to be here?” They are already anticipating the presents, decorations, and food that heralds the heralds of Christ’s birth. And who can blame them? In spite of the stress that some of us feel before Christmas, it’s still a joy and wonder to wait for what we all know is coming. 

I was reminded this morning by a devotional reading that the very name the Church gives for the weeks before Christmas — Advent — means “coming.” It is a time that we live with patience and preparation (and excitement!) for what will soon arrive. One of the things that I love about Advent is how it represents the way we are meant to live as Christians all the time. We are always looking with hope and excitement towards the future, always keeping an eye on what’s coming. 

I find this an important reminder for myself as we head into another Christmas, a new year, and another (early) winter. There are always reasons to be pessimistic about…almost everything, and this year is no different, with ISIS and Ebola causing havoc and heartbreak, Russia seemingly focused on another Cold War, domestic politics that are as partisan and bitter as most of us can ever remember, and so on. (Like, why is it this cold in November?) 

But as Christians, we are called to live in the now and the not yet. While we seek to love and serve in the present, to ease suffering and care for those in need, we also speak of the not yet, the coming Kingdom of God (or, as I like to call it, “God’s Reality”) where joy and love will prosper and suffering and trouble will end. Christmas happens just after the shortest day of the year and for generations, the Church has used the circumstance as a metaphor that once Jesus appears, light in the world increases.

In October and November of this year, I’ve preached on a lot of texts from Matthew where Jesus describes his eventual return. Many of these have images that can seem threatening and scary (Matthew is very fond of the phrase “weeping and gnashing of teeth”), but for Christians, these words carry a great promise: God doesn’t want the world to be suffering and unjust and some day Jesus is coming to fix it all. All the things that cause us fear and heartbreak — near or far, big or small — are temporary compared to the promises of God. Therefore, we look for the coming of Jesus just like we wait for the coming of Christmas: with joy and excitement. When is Christmas going to be here?

In God's Amazing Grace,

Pastor Ari

“Blah blah love and war.” -The Rescues, “Did It Really Even Matter”

Peace Be With You

(Note: This post was originally written for my church's newsletter.)

“O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel…” -Traditional Advent Hymn

“[Jesus said,] Peace I leave with you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” -John 14:27

During Advent this year, our church will be exploring the idea of peace. It seems a fitting theme because in the build up to Christmas we often hear the message “Peace on Earth” in carols and cards echoing the message of the angels that first Christmas night. It is also a time of year where we seem to more acutely desire peace in our lives … and perhaps are more aware of where peace is lacking in our lives. 

There are many things that can steal peace from our lives: worries about the state of the world; disappointment in ourselves; injustice to ourselves or a loved one. And many of us have likely seen/imagined/lived scenarios of doing everything we can to make sure Christmas is peaceful and perfect, only to have the day disappoint.

What is this peace we hunger for this time of year? In English, we typically equate peace with an absence of something, as in we see peace where there is an absence of movement or an absence of violence. From a Biblical perspective, though, peace is something else. In much of the Bible, peace is mentioned using the Hebrew word “shalom.” Shalom expresses not an absence, but a presence, because it indicates a sense of wholeness. If I were to wish “shalom” to another person, I would be saying, “May you be fed and sheltered; may you be loved and may you rest without fear or worry.”

If peace is about presence, then it makes sense that we proclaim peace in Advent and Christmas, which are about anticipating and celebrating the presence of Jesus, the Messiah. Jesus promised to come and “ransom” us from those things that steal peace from us—fear, selfishness, hopelessness—and so we experience peace in those places where we find the presence of the Christ. 

Ultimately, the peace we proclaim in Advent is not based on everything in our lives being right or still, but in the hope that Jesus chose to be present among us and continues to draw near to us and our world. It is a peace that the world cannot give. As the angels told the shepherds where to find Jesus that first Christmas, may we share that peace by pointing towards the places where we find Christ.

“This is my kingdom come.” -Imagine Dragons, “Demons”