Monday, December 7, 2015

Advent I 2015 - Karen McIntyre's sermon


Jeremiah 33:14-16 New International Version (NIV)

14 ‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah.

15 ‘In those days and at that time
    I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line;
    he will do what is just and right in the land.
16 In those days Judah will be saved
    and Jerusalem will live in safety.
This is the name by which it[
a] will be called:
    The Lord Our Righteous Savior.'

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 New International Version (NIV)

How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy we have in the presence of our God because of you? 10 Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you again and supply what is lacking in your faith.

11 Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus clear the way for us to come to you. 12 May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours does for you. 13 May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones.

Luke 21:25-36 New International Version (NIV)

25 “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. 26 People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. 27 At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. 28 When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

29 He told them this parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. 30 When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. 31 Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near.

32 “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. 33 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

34 “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap. 35 For it will come on all those who live on the face of the whole earth. 36 Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.”

 

Well, what a way to start this Advent season! The word advent means coming. You thought you were coming here this Sunday to begin focusing on the first coming of Jesus - with images of "Peace" - "Righteousness" - "Safety" - and instead our Gospel lesson skips right to the end of the story, to the second coming of Christ - with images of "Anguish" - "Terror" - "Death". In light of what's happening in our world today, I believe that what we need this morning is to hear the wonderful Advent messages from the angels, "Fear Not" and "Peace on Earth, goodwill toward Man." And so, that is the message I promise you. I'm going to challenge you to imagine and think and feel, as I take you to uncomfortable places, in order to get from "Fear" to "Fear Not," from "Death" to "Life," from the ending back to the beginning.

As we work our way through, we're going to look at reactions, so first let's look at the types of instinctual reactions. In the face of danger, there are three primal reactions for self-preservation: FIGHT, FLIGHT, and FREEZE. Each of us has one reaction that tends to dominate.

So back to our first lesson… What did people expect from the promised Messiah? They were expecting a righteous branch from David, a king that would deliver the people of Judah & Israel to safety. They didn't get what they expected, did they? Almost as soon as we hear the angels telling the shepherds “do not be afraid,” we have the story of them telling Joseph, “your family is in danger, flee to Egypt;” and of Herod ordering the murder of male children under two in the region surrounding Bethlehem. Can you imagine the chaos? What instinct can be stronger than self-preservation? The instinct of a parent to protect their child. Do you think that some of the parents got wind of the annihilation and tried to flee or hide to keep their sons alive? Wouldn’t you? And you would pray that a distant relative or stranger would assist you, give you or your child food and shelter, help you to find a safe place to live… perhaps to wait out the danger or perhaps to start anew.

Our only clue, to how few of the boys survived, is the passage from Jeremiah chapter 31, “Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” Perhaps those who might have helped were afraid to put themselves and their own families at risk.

Mary & Joseph were the lucky ones. They began to flee early enough to make it out of the region before the murder began. But picture this... First Mary and Joseph travel 90 miles by foot from Nazareth to Bethlehem; they leave their home and all they know behind. And when they get to what was once the home of Joseph’s ancestors, they don’t have any family or friends to stay with; they can’t find anyone to take them in. They end up accepting a shelter fit for livestock, because it’s better than no shelter at all. Now they face another journey of 300-400 miles to Egypt with no idea of how or where they will live; or when, even if, they can return to the home they left behind in Nazareth. That’s daunting. But you would do that if you believed it was the only way to save your child, wouldn’t you? And you would pray that you could gain entry to this foreign land and find foreigners that would assist you, give your family food and shelter, help you to find a safe place to live while you wait out the danger.

Let’s flash forward about 1940 years, when Jews, not unlike Jesus’ family, are trying desperately to flee, first Hitler’s Germany, and then other Nazi-occupied territories. Some acted on their initial instinct to flee or to send family members to safety when the unrest first began. Anne Frank’s uncles were among those that were able to obtain visas to the US and re-settled in the Boston area. Her immediate family, however, first fled to the Netherlands where they had family ties. It wasn't until later that they began the application process for visas to the US. By this time, American anxieties and suspicions towards European immigrants had increased, and the US government enacted restrictions that made an already difficult process, impossible for most. Despite family members already in the country and highly-connected people making appeals to the National Refugee Service on their behalf, Anne Frank’s family was not able to obtain visas to the US. They later were forced into hiding, but were eventually discovered. Anne, her sister, and her mother, together with millions of other Jews, died in a concentration camp.

Who remembers Anne’s words from a 1944 entry in her diary, "It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart."

While the Franks, and other like them in occupied Europe, were trying to fight, flee, or hide to protect themselves and their families – And wouldn’t you? – here in the US, people were also filled with fear. They were afraid of these foreigners: maybe there were spies among them, or a relative back in Germany that could be used as leverage to force them into actions that could put us, and our families, at risk.

Now I’ve really sunk this message into an ugly place, this pit where everyone is reacting out of fear. Our reactions to fear, as I’ve said, are primal – preservation of self and family, and sometimes, of family over self.

But, thank God we have heroes. These are the amazing people that seem to be programmed with a heightened altruistic instinct to put themselves in harm’s way to save or protect fellow human beings - often complete strangers:  firefighters, the Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, military, humanitarian workers.

These are the trained emergency workers that ran towards danger on the morning of 9/11, when others followed their instincts to run out. And those fleeing, who put themselves at risk, because they came upon a person that couldn’t make it out without their help. Or those that initially seemed to freeze, and then weighed options and came up with plans that involved working with or assisting others to save one another.

These are the men and women that hid Jews, sharing meagre food rations, often for years – despite the ever-present danger to their own families. The ones that ran networks to smuggle Jews to safety. The ones that snuck back into the Warsaw ghetto to try to help get others out.

These are the men and women and children, like you and me, who despite our fear of strangers, remember that Jesus once was a refugee and a stranger in Egypt, and that people assisted his family in their flight and settling into a foreign land; and remember what Jesus taught us in Mark chapter 3, that every human being is our brother and our sister; and remember that Jesus died on the cross to save us, and to secure us a place in his heavenly home when we come to him in paradise.

 

So, we suppress our instinctual reaction to fight or to flight, and we freeze for a bit. We don’t react out of our fear, we pause to pray and focus on Christ, then when we chose to act – not react – we do so out of love for our human family, all of our brothers and sisters, including the refugees, who like Mary and Joseph, and the Frank’s, had no choice but to attempt to flee to a foreign land.

We believe it when the angels say “Fear Not” because we know that Christ came into this world to die for us that we no longer have to fear death, but will have eternal life.

Outside of the Bataclan Concert Hall in Paris, a discussion between a father and his little three year old son ensued when a reporter asked the boy if he understood what had happened here yesterday.

The boy says:  We have to be really careful, we have to change houses.

F:  Oh no don’t worry… we don’t need to move out. France is our home.

B:  But there’s bad guys daddy… They have guns and they can shoot us because they’re really, really mean.

F:  It’s okay, they might have guns but we have flowers.

B:  But flowers don’t do anything daddy.

F:  Of course they do, look, everyone is putting flowers here. It’s to fight the guns.

B:  And the candles, too?

F:  Yes son, it’s to remember the people who are gone yesterday.

B:  The flowers and candles are here to protect us, daddy?

F:  Yes.

Yes indeed, the flowers and candles are there [point to altar] to remember the people who are gone – and right in the middle of them is the Cross… our reminder that they may be gone to us, but they are alive with Christ. Fear Not, through that Cross, Christ conquered death, and in turn, will bring us to a new life in his kingdom.

And that is the message this morning: we can move from "Fear" to "Fear Not," from "Death" to "Life," from an ending to a new beginning, when we invite Christ into our home and our hearts.

Amen

Monday, August 10, 2015

FREE MEAL

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
1 Kings 19: 4-8
Ephesians 4: 25—5:2
John 6: 35, 41-51

Grace, mercy and peace be unto you from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, MN, my hometown.  And the weekends are especially quiet in the summertime when everyone in town heads out to their lake camps, and once they’re settled in at camp there’s nothing that will lure them away.  You can’t lure fishermen; they know all the tricks when it comes to hooking a walleye.  So the quietest place on a Sunday morning is inside of the Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church.  On a beautiful Sunday morning you could shoot a cannon through the pews of the Lutheran Church and not hurt a soul.

                Pastor Liz is from that part of New Jersey where a tornado would cause one million dollars worth of improvements.  She has no understanding of the traditions of the folks from the land of 10,000 lakes.  Whether fleeing the hustle and bustle of the Twin Cities or the gossip and keen eyes of their neighbors, the folks of Lake Wobegon find refuge and escape in their lake camps.  Pastor Liz has tried everything she can think of to bring them back to town for Sunday worship – picnic services, hymns sings.  She even tried a Saturday night service at the lakefront park using her guitar and singing camp songs, but only a visiting Lutheran pastor and his wife from Bemidji attended.  She put up a sign on the front lawn of the church advertising “Free meal every Sunday morning.”  Maybe people would think it clever and come on in.

                Last Sunday, after spending the night on a park bench in Millett (which if you know Millett you know that is luxurious accommodations!) anyway – Chad Michael Orozco had already hiked seven miles when he arrived in Lake Wobegon at about the time worship had started at Lake Wobegon Lutheran.  He was hungry and thirsty and the sign out front offing a free meal seemed like a sign from God.  God had been miraculously providing for him all during his crusade to raise up soldiers for Jesus to travel with him to Israel to fight the final eschatological battle of Armageddon verses Satan and his demons.

                He sat down in the last pew, usually occupied by good Lutherans, as Pastor Liz began her sermon, figuring this must be like the Salvation Army where you get fed a sermon before you get fed a meal.

                Pastor Liz was in a funky mood.  All her creative evangelism efforts weren’t working, except for this one suspicious looking and sounding stranger.  The few in the pews all turned their heads to stare at him.  Plus, now in her fourth year of ministry, she was going through the lectionary readings a second time, dealing again with a month of Sundays on the Gospel of John, chapter 6.  I mean, how much more could she say about the feeding of the 5,000?  Especially when hardly anyone was there to be fed.  For her, it was more like the feeding of the 15, and that didn’t seem like much of a miracle.

                In her mind it was inconceivable that people could go a whole week without being nourished at the table of the Lord.  Corporate worship is that unique opportunity to be fed both by the Word of God in song, scripture, sermon and prayer; and fed by the Word of God in bread and wine, the very presence of Jesus in flesh and blood.  We call it Holy Communion because we commune with Jesus and with one another in community.  In the sharing of bread and wine, Jesus promises to be with us and to feed us just as he miraculously fed the 5,000.  You can’t do that watching Joel Osteen or Joyce Meyer.  You can’t do that alone at your summer camp.  It is the essence of what it means to be the church.

                There have been times when she has come this close to giving up, feeling that all her work as a pastor was to no avail.  But, even as she preached that Elijah had the choice to give up and die or to get up and eat, so she wasn’t about to give up and she surely didn’t want to die.  So she would continue to get up and eat and to live in the promise of the living bread from heaven.

                So also thought Peter (Chad Michael Orozco went by the name of Peter because it was a holy name.  Peter was a disciple’s name.  There was no disciple named Chad or Michael, even though that was at least an angel’s name), “I have also come close to giving up and dying.  And now, I really need something to eat.”

                People began to stand up and form something like a serving line, so he got up and joined them.  Kneeling with the others at the altar railing, he was disappointed to get a small wafer of bread placed in his hands and a tiny shot glass of wine.  But then he thought, “Ah, appetizers!  Cool.”  But just then everybody got up, went back to their seats, sang a hymn and then they were done.

                Following the others out down the center aisle, he was greeted by Pastor Liz.  “Hello,” he said, “You can call me Peter.  I came for the free meal.”

                “Yes,” laughed Pastor Liz, “Thank you for joining us today.”

                Peter stared at her for an uncomfortable moment and finally broke the silence, “So, when do we eat?  I’m starving.”

                “Oh, no,” replied Pastor Liz, ‘The bread and the wine, that’s the meal of Holy Communion which Jesus gives to us freely by his grace and love.  It’s not food for the stomach that fails after a few hours and then you’re hungry again.  It’s food for your soul.  Jesus is the living bread that comes down from heaven.  When we eat his body, that is the bread, and drink his blood, that is the wine we are fed for eternal life.  That’s why we gather every Sunday to share this holy meal.

                Pastor Liz quickly realized how disappointed Peter seemed.  While feeding the soul is done every Sunday at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church, she knew that feeding the body was ministry also.  Every Tuesday in the summer the church serves hot dogs and macaroni and cheese to the poor children in town who have no camp to go to.  And they host a free hot dinner every Tuesday night during the grueling Minnesota winter to anyone who wants to come.

                “Come on downstairs with me, Peter,” invited Pastor Liz, “we can whip you up some macaroni and cheese.”  From the dozen of boxes on the counter Pastor Liz grabbed one and mixed up the ingredients and cooked it in the microwave.  Peter ate until he was stuffed and Pastor Liz joined him in the meal.  And there was still plenty left over.  Pastor Liz then realized that she had just witnessed a true miracle of divine providence.  She only wished 5,000 people could have witnessed it as well.

                Refreshed and full, Peter got up to leave and continue his journey.  Pastor Liz refused his invitation to go to Israel with him, saying she would take her chances staying right there in Lake Wobegon.  This time Peter shook Pastor Liz’s hand gratefully and said, “I’m really glad your sign out front wasn’t lying.  Thanks for the free meal – both of them.”

 
                That’s the news from Lake Wobegon where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking and all the children are above average.  AMEN.

Rev. James Slater
Emanuel and St. Luke’s Lutheran Churches
Stuyvesant Falls and Valatie, NY

August 9, 2015

Monday, June 15, 2015


MUSTARD SEED FAITH

Ezekiel 17:22-24 -- The sign of the cedar, planted on the mountain of Israel
2 Corinthians 5:6-10 [11-13] 14-17 -- In Christ, a new creation
Mark 4:26-34 -- The parable of the mustard seed              

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, MN, my home town.  The only sound breaking the silence of that sleepy village on this past Thursday afternoon was the roar of David Engqvist’s chain saw, then the celebrated shout of “Timber!”  Then the whump of a tree as it crashes to the ground and the subsequent cry of “Uf dah!” from the rather inexperienced lumberjacks.

                Ever since his retirement as the pastor of Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church, David Engqvist has been looking for projects around his lake cottage to keep himself busy.  Right along the lakeshore was a fairly tall tree that had died several years ago.  He had wanted to cut it down while the wood was still good and before it got all rotten and fell down on its own.

                So he called his brother, Rupert, to come up to Lake Wobegon from the twin cities and give him a hand.  With former parishioners making comments like, “I sure hope he has more skill with that chain saw than he did delivering sermons,” he realized he could use a little assistance.  David would operate the chain saw and Rupert would be the brains of the project.  Not wanting the tree to fall back into the lake, Rupert attached a rope to the upper part of the tree to guide it more toward the cottage so the guys could then work on it across the back lawn.  David had eyeballed the height of the tree and estimated that if Rupert pulled the falling tree just a little to the left, it would land just short of the back deck of the cottage.  The plan would have worked perfectly if it weren’t for a significant miscalculation of the height of the tree.

                There were actually two shouts of “Oh no!”  Now, “Oh no” is the PG-rated translation of the Norwegian phrase, “Uf dah!”  The first shout came when both men realized at about the same time, right after impact, that the top of the tree was crashing down on the Engqvist’s back deck.  The second “Oh no!” came from Rupert when he saw the base of the tree kick back from its stump and catch his brother, David, square on his chest.  Thankfully, the chain saw went flying as did David who was propelled rear end first into Lake Wobegon.

                Knowing that he had a safe water landing, David realized that the worst scenario was the smashing of all of his wife, Judy’s, potted plants on the deck railing.  Most of the pots and the plants in them had been crushed and destroyed.  But one – a particularly hardy geranium – has not only survived the whipping leaves and branches of the fallen tree; but its knobby, ragged stems had protected what was discovered to be a bird’s nest inside the pot.  And inside the nest was one undisturbed egg.

                What sounded like the great and final apocalypse to Judy had awakened her from her afternoon nap.  She slid open the deck door at the same time as her soggy husband climbed up the deck stairs from the yard.  There they both found Rupert tenderly holding the bird’s nest in his hands.  Now David and Judy had spent many hours feeding and watching the birds, don’tcha know, and had become fairly adept at recognizing and identifying all the different birds and their eggs.  Any anger Judy might have had due to the repeated ineptitude of her husband was quickly dispelled by the awareness that this survivor was the egg of the very rare schroon bird – a cross between a screech owl and a loon.  Defying the threat of extinction, this little geranium had protected this tiniest of eggs from the fall of a mighty cedar tree.  Well, the story grows better every time it’s told, don’tcha know.

                “It’s a miracle!’ said the pastor.  “No,” he added, “more than a miracle.  It’s a metaphor of faith and life.”

                “What ch’you talking about?” joked his brother.

                “Sure,” the pastor went on.  “It’s just like the parable of Jesus when he compared the kingdom of God to a mustard bush.  Judy, she is like God.”

                “Oh my,” said his blushing wife.

                “See, she planted a tiny seed and tended to the soil and the water so that the geranium would grow strong and healthy.  Rupert, you and I are like sin and pride, the work of the devil.”

                “Wait, what?” Rupert asked.

                “Sure, we were so impressed by the great size of this cedar of Lebanon and thought that we could reap huge benefits from its great store of wood.”

                “Well, that might be what you were thinking,” he retorted.

                “Yes, and look what happened.  Our actions caused destruction and injury, not just to the mighty cedar, but to me and my deck and Judy’s plants.  But God had provided a simple, small geranium plant to protect one of God’s valuable creatures.  Two of God’s valuable creatures: that egg and me!”

                “You don’t have to tell me, brother Dave.  I thought you could have been killed by that tree or drowned in the lake.”

                When I heard about this incident from my folks back home, I thought, “that old preacher is still pretty sharp, don’tcha know.”  How often is God’s mercy and grace shown not in the grand and impressive, not in the biggest and most beautiful, not in the high and mighty; but in the small and lowly who simply do what they were meant to do.  Jesus knew that massive cedar trees didn’t grow in Israel.  Lebanon was envied for have such a rich supply of strong wood.

                And mustard bushes weren’t even allowed to grow inside the cities because they were like a weed growing in the barren desert.  Their wood was good for nothing, certainly not for building.  But they produced a staple spice which makes any bratwurst taste better, if you ask me.  And they provided shade and shelter for the birds of the air.  And, in this case, a hope for the future of the schroons.  And Jesus wanted every person, every single creature, to know that each is loved and important in the eyes of God.

                Judy cleaned off the deck and bought new potted plants to decorate the repaired deck railings.  Rupert and David sawed up the tree in the back yard for firewood for the campfire pit down by the lake.  And the Norwegian Wildlife Preservation Society took care of the schroon egg and gave it proper incubation for a healthy hatching.  And now people in town laugh to themselves when they think of Pastor Engqvist attempting to cut down a tree.  But now they know that indeed he does have more skill at delivering sermon than he has operating a chain saw.

                That’s because preaching is what he, in his own small way, was always meant to do because that’s his mustard seed of faith.

                And that’s the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.  AMEN.

Rev. James Slater

Emanuel Lutheran Church – Stuyvesant Falls, NY

St. Luke’s Lutheran Church – Valatie, NY

 

June 14, 2015

ADVENT ALARMS


ADVENT ALARMS

The Second Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 40: 1-11
II Peter 3: 8-15
Mark
1: 1-8

               

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, MN, my home town.  A little bit of snow, a little freezing rain, seems to cut down on the activities of my little village.  People don’t seem as hardy or find winter as enjoyable as I did when I was a kid growing up in Lake Wobegon.  Why, I remember one winter we had 110 inches of snow just in the month of December!  Sure, Buffalo, NY got five feet of snow in one storm, but it all melted away the next day.  Once it snows in central Minnesota, it just keeps adding on.

                But there is one thing that will lure people out of their warm homes and cozy cabins at this time of year no matter what the weather – Santa!  Every year, on the Saturday closest to Saint Nicholas Day (December 6) which was yesterday, the Sons of Knute hold their breakfast with Sinter Klaus at the Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church because the lodge hall is way too small for the crowds of people who attend.  Even the church hall was packed with families with little children all waiting for their chance to sit on the lap of Sinter Klaus and tell him what they hoped to find in their shoes on Christmas morning.

                And there is nothing that can break the lethargy of a sleepy village or the revelry of a pancake and bacon breakfast like a fire alarm.  That will make your heart jump, don’tcha know!  Everybody in the church hall had to be evacuated into the freezing drizzle, all except for Evelyn Lundblat’s yoga class which was in such a deep meditation in one of the Sunday School classrooms that they had no idea what was going on.

                Pastor Liz heard the alarm while writing her sermon for today in the parsonage and threw on a coat to run over to the church to see what she could do to help.  At the same time the fire trucks arrived, Barbara Soderberg’s knitting circle was arriving at the church and none of them could find a place to park.  It was a mess of chaos and confusion.

                “All clear,” announced Ole Olson, chief of the Hosers, what the Lake Wobegon fire department members called themselves.  “No fire,” he said, “just too much smoke in the kitchen.”  An alarm of danger and an announcement of relief.

                Isaiah, the Old Testament prophet, spoke of a voice crying in the wilderness.  It was an alarm – shocking the people of Israel to be alert to the dangers of their sinfulness.  It was a call to repentance to return to the proper priorities in their lives, to focus on the word and the will of God.  And it was a wonderful word of comfort that, with God, all will be well.

                David and Judy Engqvist missed all the excitement at the church he once served as pastor for 35 years.  They had traveled to the Mayo Clinic where Judy was having surgical work done on her heart.  For the patient herself, the day of surgery can be nothing but an anesthetized blur, but for those who wait and watch (quite the Advent theme) every hour can seem like 1,000 years.  David was given a pager like they have at Steve’s Seafood Shanty at the north point of Lake Wobegon, that would flash and buzz when there was a message for him.  It made him, however, rather hungry for a fresh walleye, fries and a Wendy’s beer.

                As time plodded on, David’s eyelids became very heavy and droopy and was surprised by a poke on his arm and a voice in the wilderness of the waiting room saying, “Sir, sir, your pager is buzzing.”  David’s heart jumped in his chest.  Sure enough, he was being summoned to attend a class for all family members of surgical patients.  It was a presentation designed to prepare you for what to expect when your loved one comes out of surgery and you have your first visit in the Intensive Care Unit.

                First, they prepare you for the worst (no, not sausage).  There will be tubes and wires coming from her mouth and nose, arms and chest, connecting her to complicated machines and monitors.  Patients will still be groggy under the influence of anesthesia. She will have a swollen face, hands and feet.  The gauze on her chest will be protecting a stitched incision down through her broken breast bone.  Visitors may stay for no more than ten minutes and stay out of the way of the busy ICU staff.  A voice of warning, but also a voice of comfort: Don’t worry, your loved one is in the most capable and skillful hands of the best doctors, nurse, and technicians.  With rest and treatment and trained cardiac care, you will see improvement each day.  It was an alarm of warning and preparation and a word of future hope and healing.

                Back in the waiting area, David took out his Advent devotions.  It was amazing, but true, how often those devotional words seemed to speak directly to what he was going through.  The scripture reading was from Isaiah 40.  Maybe not as dramatic as a fire alarm or as shocking as a poke on the arm that wakes you from your slumber, but here was an announcement of good news he needed to hear.  It spoke a word of comfort – the prophet begins by calming down those who worry and wait.  Things may seem scary and dangerous, but God is going to walk with you.  If God’s promise was to walk with you through the valley of the shadow of death, then certainly through the valley of scary surgery as well.  And the valleys will be lifted up and the mountains leveled; and the broken hearts will be mended and the damaged values replaced, and the glory of the Lord will be revealed.

                What seemed like 1,000 years later, the pager buzzed and flashed.  The pager had the name of John the Baptizer.  He was a voice in the wilderness crying out, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.”  The good will of God for all people would be accomplished through the one whom John announced, “Behold, the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”  In the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God would usher in a new heaven and a new earth, as the apostle writes in 2 Peter; and will create in us a new heart.

                That was God’s word for his wife, Judy.  It didn’t make his heart jump.  It made his heart rejoice!

                And he couldn’t help but smile and even laugh to himself as he read further in Isaiah.  “All people are grass,“ cries the prophet.  David remembered that “grass” was once the favorite word of his daughter when she was two years old.  It was her answer to every question and she thought it was hilarious.  She even worked it into the liturgy of the new green book they were learning at that time: “Lord God, hebendly king, almight God, da vater, we worship you, we give you grass.”  And then she would squeal with delight.  But the grass withers and the flower fades.  The announcement of good news through Jesus, however, is not just temporary.  It is not just for our immediate concerns.  It is eternal.  “The grass withers and the flower fades, but the word of our God endures forever.”

                Isaiah concludes, “He will feed his flock like a shepherd and gather the lambs in his arms and gently lead the mother sheep.”  BUZZ!  David’s pager was flashing.  He went to see the nurse at the desk.  “The alarm went off,” he told her.

                “Yes, Mr. Engqvist,” she replied.  “I’ll take your pager now.  Your wife’s surgery is over.  You may go see her now.”

                And that’s the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.  AMEN.

Rev. James Slater

Emanuel Lutheran Church – Stuyvesant Falls, NY

St. Luke’s Lutheran Church – Valatie, NY

 

December 7, 2014