Redeeming Grace – LOVE

3^rd Sunday of Advent

December 16, 2018

John 1:1-5, 14, 16-17

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QsbXNo1bXsc )

            My husband is slowly turning the parsonage into a Star Trek house. First he got a couple of the special outlets that you can control from an app on your phone. Then, about a year ago, he got the Alexa dot from Amazon. It’s the little round speaker that’s connected to the internet and can play music or tell stories or answer random trivia questions. And the smart outlets are hooked up to it, so it can control the devices that are plugged into them, too. Does anyone else have one? A month or so ago a colleague here in Maryland shared on social media that her husband had programmed their Alexa dot so that rather than saying, “Alexa, turn on the lights,” the voice command is now “Alexa, let there be light,” and Alexa replies, “And God said that it was good.” I was so tickled by this that I told my husband, who programmed our Alexa dot to say the same thing, only he went a step farther and changed the command for turning out the lights. You say, “Alexa, let there be darkness,” and Alexa replies, “And God said that it was less good.” Now, that bothered me a little bit, it didn’t just seem quite theologically sound, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. So, my husband changed her response to: “And God said that it was less good, even though that’s not as theologically sound as some might like.” So, here’s the thing. God never says that darkness is bad. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that darkness is evil. That is not anywhere in there. We’ve created a false dichotomy whereby if light is good and darkness is the opposite of light, then darkness must therefore be bad. Darkness is not bad. You can’t see the stars if it’s not dark. You can hardly see the bright flame of a candle if it’s in broad daylight.

In the Gospel of John we read, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it.”[1] The darkness does not overcome the light, nor does the light overcome the darkness. They both exist together. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”[2] In the beginning, there was God, there was the earth, although it was some kind of void, there was darkness, and there was water. Then comes the first dawn: “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light ‘day,’ and the darkness he called ‘night.’ And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.”[3] God never judges the darkness. God never says it’s less important or less good. God says the light God created is good. And you need both the light and the darkness, both the day and the night, to make up one whole day. The nighttime is just as much a part of that cycle as the daytime. When light first begins to shine in the darkness, when the night changes to day, that’s dawn. The dawn pierces the dark night and transforms it. The sky begins to lighten even before the sun first peeps above the horizon. It’s reassurance that once again life continues. And here in the third verse of “Silent Night,” Jesus’ birth is called “the dawn of redeeming grace.”

Jesus’ birth is the dawn of redeeming grace. It’s the beginning of it. What is it? Well, grace is unconditional love, love with no strings attached, love that loves no matter what. That’s what makes it so amazing. That’s how John Newton went from transporting kidnapped people for sale across the ocean to becoming an Anglican clergyman. During one horrible storm, he, who did not believe in God, called on God for mercy. And God granted mercy. Afterward, John Newton “began to ask if he was worthy of God's mercy or in any way redeemable as he had not only neglected his faith but directly opposed it, mocking others who showed theirs, deriding and denouncing God as a myth.”[4] He was obviously not worthy. That’s what makes it grace, unconditional love. About 25 years later is when John Newton wrote “Amazing Grace,” drawing on personal experience with that unconditional love, with redeeming grace. Redeeming grace is unconditional love that redeems, that makes right, that restores, and delivers, and saves, and makes good on God’s promise to always be with us. It’s Jesus, “Son of God, love’s pure light.” Jesus is “the light that shines in the darkness.” Jesus’ birth is “the dawn of redeeming grace,” the unconditional love that can save us. 

Now, the Gospel of John only uses the word “grace” four times in the entire Gospel, and all four times are found here in chapter 1 that we read this morning. “The Word became flesh and lived among us. We have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”[5] John says Jesus’ glory is full of grace and truth. We talked last week about the glory of the Lord shining on the shepherds. Jesus’ glory, a glory of grace, unconditional love, and truth, is what shone on them. John’s second and third uses of the word ‘grace’ are in the same sentence: “From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” From Jesus’s fullness, from his completeness, from his richness, we have all received, past tense; we have all already received, grace upon grace. We have received abundant grace, overflowing grace, amazing grace. There was grace, and then there was more grace, and then there was more grace, and then there was more grace: an abundance of grace, an abundance of unconditional love. I love you no matter what, and nothing can change that. Period. Finally, the fourth place John uses grace is to more fully define what to expect from Jesus. He says, “The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”[6] The law was given through Moses, the ten commandments, and the deuteronomic laws, which are those found in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Even though they weren’t all written in Moses’ lifetime, they are all attributed to him. The law came through Moses: Here’s how to live. Here’s how to be God’s people. Here’s what’s expected of you. Then grace and truth came through Jesus. I don’t know that there was a lot of falsehood in the law, but there wasn’t much grace. The law can be applied gracefully, or it can be applied stringently.

Let’s look at an example from John chapter 8. I’m going to use a paraphrase that was written by a colleague of mine from the Western North Carolina Conference.[7] “Once there was a woman who had broken the Law. Perhaps she had even broken the Law to help support her family. The authorities dragged the Law-breaker before Jesus. ‘The Law is clear,’ they said, ‘The Law says this woman must be stoned. What do you say?’ Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. He was silent. One of the authorities said again, ‘Jesus, the Law is clear. The Law says we must stone this woman. What part of illegal don't you understand?’ Jesus straightened up and said to them, ‘Let he or she who is without sin, let he or she who has never broken the Law cast the first stone.’ And then Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground again. He was silent. One by one, the authorities judged themselves: they dropped their rocks, and walked away. Jesus straightened up again and said to the Law-breaker, ‘Woman, where are they now? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir," she said, her eyes fixed on his drawings on the ground. ‘Neither do I,’ the Judge said. ‘Go your way, and sin no more.’ Having saved her once, Jesus saved her again. The one who could, the one without sin, refused to cast a stone.”

Now listen to what’s going on here. “Jesus doesn't deny the need for Law. Jesus doesn't pretend that sin isn't sin. Jesus knows that wrong actions need to have consequences. He understands, ‘illegal.’ What Jesus apparently doesn't understand is throwing rocks. What Jesus apparently doesn’t understand is scapegoating another person or group of people to distract us from our own sinfulness. What Jesus apparently doesn't understand is refusing to apply the Law with wisdom, with understanding, with compassion, with thought of what is best for all, with grace. What Jesus apparently doesn't understand is forgetting that the Law was made for human beings, and not human beings for the Law. The Law is not equal to the Law-giver. Law cannot save. Law can never forgive. Jesus grants amnesty to the Law-breakers, because Jesus is above the Law.” That’s the grace and truth that came through Jesus.

And we have all received, out of his fullness, grace upon grace. His birth was “the dawn of redeeming grace.” How can we also share this grace? How can we nurture relationships that birth, multiply, and radiate grace in the world?  During a time that can seem as much about scarcity as about abundance – because there are only how many shopping days left? And how quickly do popular toys go out of stock? And only so many parking space, only so much time, only so much of your mental energy to go around… our God is not a god of scarcity. Our God is a god of abundance, of grace upon grace, of redeeming grace. How can we make this right? How can we be gracious? Wouldn’t you rather be known for being generous and loving than for being stingy and a stickler? Even when the world around us seems rushed and insisting on the importance of the abundance of things, let us be people who know there is enough time. There is enough. You are enough. And an abundance of grace, of love that says “I love you no matter what and nothing can ever change that,” is more important than things. We have received grace upon grace. Let us go and share that abundance of grace with everyone we meet. Because we will never run out. There is no end to it. If you’re feeling less graceful, then come spend some more time with the one who is redeeming grace personified. Let us offer grace upon grace to a world who has forgotten what grace is.

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[1] John 1:5

[2] Genesis 1:1-2

[3] Genesis 1:3-5

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazing_Grace

[5] John 1:14

[6] John 1:17

[7] Rev. Jeremy Troxler, published 30 Nov 2018, https://www.facebook.com/notes/jeremy-troxler/the-law-breaker/10161288741580717/

Remembering Mr. Al

Service of Death & Resurrection

Al “Pop” Fredericksen

December 11, 2018, 11 a.m.

Psalm 91; Matthew 25:31-40

            Being on the ball, like he usually was, Mr. Al even planned many of the details of this service today. He picked the hymns we’re singing. It was important to him to have military funeral honors. And the last time I saw him, he asked me to officiate at the service. It was the first time I’ve been asked by the person and not by their family. But that’s how Mr. Al was. He took care of what God entrusted to his care. He took care of Ms. Shirley and his family. He took care of our church, serving this past year as our head trustee. And he always had a minute to spare to help anyone who needed help. I heard stories about Mr. Al helping out the customers on his mail route and the friends he bowled with and he LOVED helping at the Howard County Fair every August. You wouldn’t see him for two weeks, but you knew where he was. He kept moving, kept busy, not to keep busy; he kept moving because he kept serving, just as Jesus calls us to do.

            Matthew 25 is what came to mind when thinking about scripture for Mr. Al. First is the parable about the servants who have been entrusted with talents, or bags of gold, to take care of while their master is away. Two of the servants go to work and double the master’s money. When the master returns he tells them, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and enter into my rest.” Likewise, Mr. Al was faithful with what Jesus entrusted to him. He worried about everyone else until the day he died, asking me even when he was in the hospital about things at church and with the parsonage and trying to take care of things and wrap things up. He was faithful, and has now entered into his Lord’s rest.

            Jesus follows this parable of the servants and bags of gold with the passage we read this morning about the shepherd separating the sheep and the goats. “The King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ And the people look askance at him, because to them, it was no big deal to do these things, they’re not even completely sure they did them. The King replies, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” I would venture a guess that there is no one here this morning who was not helped in some way by Mr. Al. He would do anything for anyone.

            Now, if he was helping you out of a scrape of your own making, he would tease you or otherwise make sure you knew you needed to accept responsibility for it. I had a problem with the garbage disposal at the parsonage last summer that I tried to fix on my own and ended up calling him about. He came out, and with my mom’s help, fished out a corn-on-the-cob holder that had gotten stuck in there, that I hadn’t found on my own. At the next Administrative Board meeting, during his trustees’ report, he had me tell the story of what happened. It felt a little bit like getting in trouble at Grandpa’s house and then having to tell my parents about it!

            Mr. Al loved Jesus, he loved his family, and he served everyone. And because of that attitude of love and service, people loved him. He looked for the good, and people appreciated that. He was personal, chatting up about anything and anyone, easy-going. Ms. Shirley told me that when he got upset with her, he’d go out and chop wood. And then Gary told me that when they had too much wood, they’d give it away! Even when upset, he figured out a way to use that energy for something good.

            But y’all don’t need me to tell you about Mr. Al. Most of you knew him better and longer than I did, and that’s what makes the past month so hard. It was sudden and unexpected for him to go from climbing ladders and blowing leaves off the driveway to going home to Jesus. We didn’t realize Jesus was going to call him home already. And yet with the psalmist we are confident that “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” We can also “say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’ Surely [the Lord] will save you… He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day… A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.” What a beautiful psalm of comfort and reassurance. It’s a reminder that God is there with you, too, no matter what’s going on. You are not alone. The Lord is with you.

            “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.” The Lord did it for Mr. Al. And  he will do it for you, too.

Glories Stream (JOY)

2^nd Sunday of Advent

December 9, 2018

Psalm 86:9-11; Luke 2:8-20

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1pySWZyWGA )

            There was a daily comic strip that ran from 1981 to 2007 called “Kudzu.” It was about the Rev. Will B. Dunn and the folks in his town. It was a pretty southern comic strip; did it make it in the papers up here? There was one strip that I remember quite well. The first panel showed the good Reverend on his knees, praying, “God, send me a sign!”  The second panel shows Rev. Dunn, still on his knees, next to a large flashing neon sign with the word “sign” on it.  God answered his prayer; God sent him a sign. It may not necessarily have been a helpful sign or what Rev. Dunn was looking for, but God did what he asked. God gave him a large, bright sign that you couldn’t miss.

            We don’t know if the shepherds were looking for a sign that night in the fields outside Bethlehem or not. We do know that they got a large, bright sign that couldn’t be missed. An angel stood before them and the glory of the Lord shone around them. It must have been bright! I imagine the shepherds squinting as their eyes adjust from the dark of the night to the brightness of the Lord’s glory. One minute it’s business as usual, and the next minute, bam! Big, bright, flashing neon sign from God. While Rev. Dunn’s sign simply said, “sign,” this sign says much more as the angel has instructions for the shepherds.

This is the third time in Luke that an angel has appeared. The angel Gabriel comes to Zechariah to tell him he and his wife are about to have a son in their old age, the son who will become known as John the Baptist. Then the angel Gabriel goes to Mary, to tell her she’s also going to have a baby boy whom she’s to name Jesus. Luke says Zechariah is “startled and gripped with fear,”[1] and Mary is troubled and perplexed.[2] What’s different with the shepherds was that this time it’s not just an angel appearing; it’s an angel plus the glory of the Lord shining all around them. The shepherds aren’t just startled or perplexed, they are terrified. Their response is sheer terror.

            In all three cases, the first thing the angel has to address is fear. Zechariah, Mary, and the shepherds are all told, “Do not be afraid.” It’s one of the more common phrases in the Bible. God’s people are told this over and over. Fear not. Don’t be scared. It’s like reassuring children after bad dreams. The appearance of the angel and the sudden brightness of the Lord’s glory has the shepherds scared to pieces. It isn’t just unexpected. It isn’t just startling. It isn’t just perplexing. The shepherds are the hired hands, working the night shift, guarding someone else’s sheep, in someone else’s fields. They don’t want anything to go wrong. They don’t want any trouble. They don’t want anything out of the ordinary. But God has other plans for them. God wants these lowly hired hands to be the first ones to hear the good news of the birth of their savior. Yet to get them to listen, to get them to pay attention, the angel has to address their fear first.

            Did you know that when you are frightened, the intelligent parts of your brain stop working?[3] In other words, when you’re scared, you’re dumber. Your logical thought process is replaced by overwhelming emotions, and rather than taking the time to think things through, you either react quickly, the fight-or-flight instinct, or you freeze, like a deer in the headlights. You stick with short-term solutions and don’t even think about long-term repercussions. We are not at our best when we’re frightened. We don’t think logically when we’re overwhelmed, and we enjoy life a lot less. We stop seeing the good that is all around us.

            The angel’s first task is to get the shepherds ready to listen. Calm down. It’s okay. You’re safe. You aren’t alone. The sheep are safe. I’m not here to steal them. Take some deep breaths. Get your heart rate back down, come down off the ceiling, or out from behind a rock. You don’t need to be overwhelmed. You don’t need to be terrified. I’ve got BIG NEWS. I’ve got GOOD NEWS. Are you ready to hear it? This is wonderful news for all people. Your savior is born today in David’s city. He is Christ the Lord. The Messiah. Your savior. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. The first sign leads to another sign, neither of which the shepherds were looking for in the first place!

            How often do we look for signs when we’re not sure what to do? God, if the phone rings, then I’ll do this. God, if I don’t make it to the next round in this computer game, then I’ll do that. In Psalm 86, the psalmist prays, “Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.” God’s way is not always obvious and so it requires teaching in order to know it. God’s way is not obvious to the shepherds, they need telling what to do next and how to know if they get it right. And this isn’t a “teach me because I’m curious,” but a “teach me so that I may actually live it out and do it and follow it.” Our hearts are often divided and thus we’re unable to walk in God’s way. The fear that’s holding our brain hostage has to go. The overwhelming emotions have to subside. They have to go so that we can hear God’s voice, and not the voice of fear. They have to go so that we can live the life God is calling us to live, a life of peace and love and hope and gentleness. There is already enough hate out there; we don’t need to contribute to it. We can be people of peace. We can be people of joy.

            What good news am I missing? What don’t I see all around me that’s worthy of joy, because I’m distracted, or fearful, or jumpy? When I calm down my overwhelming feelings, when I let the intelligent, logical part of my brain take control again, what do I see and hear? What’s the good news? What’s right in front of me that will make me smile, if only I notice it?

            After the angel relieves the shepherds’ fears and gives them the good news and the next sign, a whole host of angels appears and praise God saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace and goodwill among people.” This apparently does not freak out the shepherds; by now they’ve learned to go with the flow and they know God is up to something. So once all the angels leave, the shepherds decide to go to Bethlehem and see if it’s true. Now, a couple things are interesting. One is that they leave the flock. Those sheep they were in charge of, who didn’t belong to them, who was their job to keep safe through the night? They leave ’em. They’re not worried about the sheep anymore. And the shepherds don’t leisurely make their way over to Bethlehem; no, they hurry. They have been told great news, if it’s true, and they want to go find out now. There’s a sense of urgency to see if their savior really has been born, if there really is a cause for great joy for all people. Wouldn’t you want to know? Is this really true? Is my savior really here? And they discover the answer is yes. Exactly what the angel told them is exactly what they find.

            Nowadays grades and news are posted online and you can find out in the isolation of your own room. Back in the day they used to post those things on community bulletin boards – here’s who got the top grades, here’s who got the internships, here’s who won the scholarship – and everyone crowded around to read the names, those whose names might be on the list more excited and nervous than the rest. The shepherds aren’t each apart in their rooms on their own computers finding out the answer is yes, they’re there in a place with other people around them. And so when they shout out “Yes!” or “It is true!” or “There really is a baby here!” or “The angel was right!” or “This is the sign!”, others overhear them and Luke says that all who hear the shepherds are amazed at what they say.  There’s been an angel sighting. More than that, there are shepherds who witnessed the glory of the Lord, the dazzling brilliance of God’s presence and power. The angel gave a sign and it came true exactly as promised. It is amazing.

            And the shepherds return to their flocks. They go back to where they started; only they are not the same. They are now glorifying and praising God for all they have heard and seen. Life goes back to normal, kinda. They’re still working the night shift, still caring for someone else’s sheep in someone else’s field. But now they know their Savior has been born. Now they know the “good news of great joy.” They have heard it, they have seen it, they have lived it. God came to them, out alone in the fields during the graveyard shift. They were terrified. But now they are joyous. They are not alone. They are not forgotten. God didn’t go tell the bigwigs first. God didn’t shine his glory on the landowners. God’s glory shone on these shepherds. And once they were willing to overcome their fear, once you scraped them from off the ceiling of their terror, once they heard the angel’s message and followed the sign, they were never the same.

            The shepherds weren’t out looking for a sign that night, but they sure got one. If you ask God for a sign, you may get one, although it may or may not be as helpful as you’d like, as Rev. Dunn discovered. If God sends you a sign that you weren’t expecting, however, it might just change the world. Keep your eyes open this Advent season. Pay attention to the beauty and joy all around you. Drive around and look at Christmas lights. If you’re not one that needs to find joy right now, help others find it. Be the joy others need to hear and see and feel.

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[1] Luke 1:12

[2] Luke 1:29

[3] https://www.learning-mind.com/impact-of-fear-on-the-human-brain/

Heavenly Peace

1^st Sunday of Advent

December 2, 2018

Isaiah 2:1-4; 9:2, 6-7

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TptRqsvGZHo )

            I don’t know about you, but my week felt full of things outside of my control. A loved one called with the news that they have to change how they treat their chronic disease. A member from my first congregation that I served was deported back to Mexico. Mr. Al, as we know, is getting closer and closer to seeing Jesus face to face. A kid on the school bus said something mean to my daughter that she won’t talk about. My anxiety has been higher this week and I have felt helpless in each of these situations that pull on the heart strings. The truth is that I haven’t actually been helpless. I’ve prayed and I’ve listened and I’ve cried and I’ve waited and I’ve journaled and I’ve said, “I love you.” I’ve done what I can, the best I can. Yet I could not control the outcome of any of these situations. All I could do was listen and pray and hug and hope. And at least once this week, with each of these things, I felt anxious. I know I’m supposed to be a calm presence as your pastor, but I will confess that I am not always inwardly calm. I do my best to work out my anxiety on my own so that I can be calm around you. But if you’d found me at certain moments this past week, you would have found me in tears.

            And then this morning’s theme is peace. That tends to be how God works. A few years ago when I was getting ready to preach on Naaman and his leprosy, I got my own skin rash, poison ivy. The week I’m supposed to preach on peace, I was not inwardly at peace. We decided last summer to use this Advent worship series commemorating the 200^th anniversary of “Silent Night.” The song first debuted on Christmas Eve of 1818 in Austria, although Joseph Mohr had actually written the words two years earlier. Before Christmas Eve 1818, Joseph Mohr, a priest, took the words to Franz Gruber, a schoolmaster and organist in a neighboring town, and asked him to compose an accompaniment so that they could use it for Christmas Eve mass. Churches around the world sing this song at Christmastime, lighting candles, and somehow making a sanctuary full of people feel like a close-knit family, somehow transforming whatever else is going on into a time of peace. “All is calm, all is bright.” 

            You heard me mention at the beginning of the service about the Christmas Truce of World War I. Soldiers on the Western Front held a ceasefire for the holiday. And in the quiet, in the silence, in the calm, they could hear each other singing “Silent Night, Holy Night.” Recognizing from the melody that they were each singing the same Christmas carol in their native languages, they came out and met on the battlefield, not with weapons but with soccer balls and small gifts to give each other. Soldiers from opposite sides in the war came out and did this. Talk about a Christmas miracle, facilitated by this hymn! Talk about a time of truly “heavenly peace,” when God managed to bring about a peace that the soldiers could not.

            Each week we’re going to focus on a different verse. This being the first week of Advent, we’re looking at the first verse. First verses are often more well-known than the rest, in just about any hymn. And the theme for this morning is peace, as the verse ends by saying twice, “Sleep in heavenly peace.” Heavenly peace is different than earthly peace. When Jesus tries to prepare his disciples for his leaving and the coming of the Holy Spirit, an event around which the disciples have a lot of anxiety and zero control, one of the things Jesus tells them is “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”[1] Jesus gives them his peace. Jesus’ peace is different. Jesus’ peace isn’t defined by what’s lacking. It’s not the absence of conflict. Jesus’ peace is known for what it is, by itself, regardless of what’s going on. Jesus’ peace is calmness, quietness, and tranquility. And that can happen even in the midst of conflict, even in the middle of a storm, even in the middle of events going on around you that are outside your control. Jesus’ peace isn’t a lack of something; it is something in its own right, all by itself.

            When Jesus gives his peace to his disciples, they are not at peace. They’re really worried about where Jesus is going. They’ve left everything to follow him, and now he says he’s leaving them?? Sure, Jesus says he’s going to prepare a place for them, and he’s going to send the Holy Spirit, but they want Jesus here and now, in the flesh. This is the King they’ve risked all to serve. Jesus says he’s not going to leave them orphans. He’s going to send the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Comforter. And Jesus gives them his peace.

            Perhaps the most well-known description of Jesus’ peace is what Paul writes to the Philippians. Among other instructions, Paul tells them, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”[2] God’s peace is beyond our understanding. And we’ve seen people like this, people who are calm even in the midst of the storm going on in their lives. They say, “Yes, this is all going on. Yes, it is painful. Yes, it’s requiring a lot of change. But, my faith isn’t in the storm or the wind or the waves. My faith is in the God who created them. My faith is in the one who made the heavens and the earth. And I will not be shaken. Yes, there is injustice and pain and suffering and the world is not as it should be. That’s why I choose to join God in the work of redeeming the world, and I can’t do that well if I’m freaking out. I cannot enter this next season of my life well if I’m looking at the wind. It’s easy to look at the water and pay attention to the feel of the wind on your face. I love it on a good day. But in a storm I need to pay attention to the feel of Jesus holding me safe, the feel of his arms around me, the feel of the cup of his hand on my cheek. Jesus is my rock and I will not be moved.” That’s the peace that passes understanding. That’s the peace that Jesus offers. That’s the peace we so often feel when we sing “Silent Night” and hold our candles on Christmas Eve. God’s got this. I’m not in control. My choice isn’t whether or not to control a given situation; my choice is whether or not to join God in the work of redeeming the situation. And there’s peace in that.

            Jesus’ peace is different than the peace that others offer. Others offer a ceasefire; Jesus offers a chance to build a bridge and literally get to know the person you were shooting at yesterday. Jesus’ peace isn’t about just putting down weapons and hurtful words; his peace is about transformation. Look again at what we read from Isaiah 2. “Many peoples will come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the temple of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.’ The law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.”[3] The swords and the spears, these instruments of destruction, don’t get destroyed. The weapons don’t simply get laid down, or put away, either. They get changed. They are transformed. Weapons of killing and destruction are not killed and destroyed. They’re changed from instruments of death into instruments of life. They become plowshares, the main cutting blade of a plow, and pruning hooks, both things that are necessary for new life. Swords and spears become items that are used for growth and cultivation and life. God redeems them and uses them for good. Rather than their original purpose of cutting down, God uses them for building up. Jesus’ peace isn’t just refraining from saying harsh words and putting away harmful things; it’s changing them into kind words and helpful things.

So, how can we transform our chaos and anxiety and divisions into calm and peace and bridges? How do get there, even before we sing “Silent Night” on Christmas Eve? More importantly, how can we do that all year long? Comfort items, like a baby blanket, can be helpful. Be at least a little wary of comfort food, because it tends to be full of carbs and sugar, but I get it, if that’s your thing. I shared with some of you, the night after I got home from visiting Al when he received the news about the terminal cancer, I baked brownies. That wasn’t just for the carbs and the chocolate, though; baking is a stress reliever for me. Know what your stress relievers are, and do them, especially the healthy ones. Also know that relieving stress is different than escapism. Alcohol is an easy example. One drink to take the edge off is different than drinking to the point of blacking out. And for an alcoholic, one drink is one drink too many, period. Know your limits, know your triggers. And more important than all this, know Jesus and accept the peace he offers you. It’s peace that might bring you out of your foxhole to go meet with the person in the foxhole on the other side. It’s peace that might just say, come, rest in me, and you take every opportunity you have to come to church and join in the community.

Where I found it this past week was on Thursday. Being commissioned, but not fully ordained, I’m required to go to monthly all day meetings for a program called “Residency in Ministry.” The morning session is ideally on something helpful, like leading a congregation through change, or better understanding the ordination process. The afternoon session we break into small groups with a leader who’s another pastor in the Conference and what’s shared is confidential. My small group works well together, and we begin the afternoon by each checking in. I went last this past week, and putting into words all that I had been feeling during the week, the reasons for the anxiety, and then sharing all that in a safe space, naming it out loud, was really helpful. Another thing that’s helped is an Advent song that is about waiting for Jesus, and not anticipatory, excited waiting, but a waiting that is longing. Waiting that has some lament to it. I may share the song at the Longest Night service.

            This Advent season, as we prepare for a baby who is born a King, as we get ready for Jesus to be born anew, I invite you to spend more intentional time with the one who is called the Prince of Peace. In Isaiah 9, we read that “Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.” One more way Jesus’ peace is different. There is endless peace in his kingdom. It’s not going to run out. It’s not a temporary truce or time out. It’s a permanent way of being in the world. Be at peace. With yourself, with others, with the world around you. It doesn’t mean you agree with everyone or condone what’s going on. It means you know it’s beyond your control but it’s not beyond God’s. Pray for God to change the world. Pray for God to overcome the divisions and the hatred and the name-calling. And then do you part in helping God to redeem the world. When faced with the choice of acting in love or in spite, choose love. And ask God for the strength to love when you’re not sure you can, because you’ve found yourself face-to-face with the soldier in the foxhole from the enemy side. Heavenly peace is not the same as earthly peace. Thank heaven!

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[1] John 14:27, emphasis mine

[2] Philippians 4:6-7

[3] Isaiah 2:3-4