“In The World, But Not Of It” Epiphany 3 Lectionary 3 January 25, 2009

(First read the text for this sermon: 1 Corinthians 7:25-31)

What a week it has been.

There’s been the inauguration of a new president, and that has included something rare among many nations of the world: a peaceful transferring of power from one party of political rivals to another. On our TV screens and computer monitors this past Tuesday, we saw political adversaries greeting each other with civility and even warmth. Man, if that doesn’t make you feel patriotic, nothing will!

But we’re not supposed to care anything about any of that – according to this morning’s second reading.

This past week I had to offer homilies for two memorial services. One of them was for Ardey Phillips, who was only 69 years old when he died. The other person was a college student who I had baptized 20 years ago, who died of cancer.

But I’m not supposed to let myself be affected by any of that. That’s what St. Paul teaches in those verses we read from First Corinthians.

This week, did you receive your 2008 year-end financial statements from your investment houses? My pension and savings funds lost a couple of hundred thousands of dollars in total. How about you?

But we’re not supposed to care anything about that – according to St. Paul who counsels the Corinthian Christians to deal with the world as though [we] have no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away.

The verses we read this morning from Paul bring us into a persistent tension in the life of faith: How much are we to be in the world – even though we are not to be of the world?

Have you heard that formulation of the Christian life: “in the world but not of it?” That formulation is not actually in Scripture. But it does paraphrase the point of several passages in the Bible. For instance, Paul himself writes, in Romans (12:2): Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. The writer of the gospel of John includes these words as a prayer of Jesus for his followers: I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one.

And there is this morning’s reading from Paul’s first letter to the tiny congregation he founded in the city of Corinth. Paul is expecting the imminent end to history. Paul expects that God will soon bring to a conclusion all that God is doing. And so, Paul writes, I think that, in view of the impending crisis, it is well for you to remain as you are. He writes that those who are not married should not get married. Those who are married should not try to become free from those vows. Why? Because making such important life changes would distract followers of Jesus from the end that is coming.

In fact, Paul tells his readers, do not allow yourselves to be caught up in any human concerns. He writes: I mean, brothers and sisters, the appointed time has grown short; from now on, let even those who have wives be as though they had none, and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no possessions, and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away.

Obviously, you and I are not Biblical literalists. In this room are husbands and wives who are committed to each other. Some of us are mourning, and for good reason. Some of us are rejoicing. All of us (I hope!) are thankful for material possessions such as our furnaces and our warm clothing on this cold day.

But the point of what Paul writes remains valid: the present form of this world is passing away. That is why, in this morning’s gospel passage (from Mark 1:16-20) Simon and his brother Andrew, and James and his brother John immediately follow Jesus when he calls them. "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news," Jesus tells them – and they do!

So for you and me, in the resurrection of Jesus the Christ, God’s new age has begun. The present form of this world is passing away, as Paul writes. Indeed, we regularly pray that the present form of this world will pass away. We pray, in the Lord’s Prayer: “your kingdom come.”

And so, knowing that God is doing something new, knowing that the present form of this world is passing away, we are in the world, but we know that we are not of the world.

Of course, there are various understandings of how to be in the world, but not of it.

Have you seen the movie, “Into Great Silence”? (I didn’t think so. I think a total of three people have seen it.) It’s a unique documentary, without any narration, of daily life in a cloistered monastery in the French alps, where the monks live in silence. It took a while to make the movie. The filmmaker asked the monks if he could make a film of their community’s life, and they told him they would pray about it and get back to him. They got back to him – 13 years later! They gave him permission, and the movie got made. But the monks had an utter disregard of human schedules and concerns. They got back to the filmmaker as God the Holy Spirit moved them to.

Are any of you called to be “not of the world” in that manner?

In fact, that monastery is much more closed off from the world than any I have visited. The monastery in which I have spent the most number of weeks is Mepkin Abbey in South Carolina. It too is a cloistered community, of Trappist monks. The official name of their order is the Order of Cistercians of the Strict Obedience, and their daily life is strictly regulated: sleep and work and prayer, and seven prayer services each day. But one of the images I hold dear from one visit to Mepkin is of the abbot, in his office, wearing his monastic habit, with his feet on his desk, reading that week’s issue of The New Yorker magazine!

In the world, but not of it. What does that mean for you? How are you called to live, in the world, but not of it?

That language, of “calling” tips you off to how I can best work this out. A resource in the Christian tradition is Luther’s teaching on vocation. Put most simply: Your vocation is the work that God calls you to do. It is work that you do in the world. But you are not of the world. You do not try to escape this necessary tension in the Christian life. Your work is not an end in itself. You are working for the coming kingdom. Perhaps this should be our prayer: “Your kingdom come. And may I cooperate with that which is coming.”

Some people are fortunate enough to be paid to do the work God calls them to do! Others do not feel so fulfilled in the work they perform to pay the bills, and so they pursue their vocations, their callings, in their volunteer activities. Others are retired from the work they did to pay the bills, and so they are freed to follow their callings in creative ways they never have been able to before.

God calls us to our work in the world – even though you and I are not of the world! Our faith must translate into such action, if we are to follow the model of Jesus. Our life of Christian faith cannot be something that we keep private – because then we would not be following the model of Jesus. Our faith must be our life. Our faith must motivate our actions in the world, even though we are not of the world.

It is instructive to remember that Jesus was quite public with his faith! And, as Jesus acted out of his calling from God, he got into trouble all the time! One reason why the church is dying in our time is because it’s been infected by an idea from American culture: that we need to avoid being offensive in church, or that we need to avoid controversy. If that is the case, then we who are the church are not enough in the world! And so, even though it quickly becomes uncomfortable, you and I are called to act, by God the creator who loves the creation and its creatures. We discern, for instance, how we are to act, our of our faith, when there are issues such as a proposal for a coal-burning power plant that will degrade God’s creation, or how inclusive we are to be to those God has created with various sexual orientations. (See how quickly we’ll get into trouble?)

We are called to do the work that God gives us to do. Our actions in the world express our faith and trust in the God of Jesus Christ, who is bringing into being something new. The present form of this world is passing away, and so our allegiance cannot be to that. You and I are in the world – but we are not of the world.

In the name of God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

“What Is God Doing That Is New? Are You Listening?” Epiphany 2 Lectionary 2 January 18, 2009

(First read the text for this sermon: 1 Samuel 3:1-20)

What is God doing that is new?

Soon after January 1, I asked someone, “How are you doing?” and he said, “New year, same old stuff.” Is that true? Or is God doing something new?

Tuesday will be the inauguration of a new president. Some are excited about that! Some are dismayed. Is God doing something new?

The Virginia Legislature has begun its annual session. All the talk is of money problems and budget cuts and limits. Is God doing something new here?

In a time period of so much fear and confusion, spiritual desolation, political danger, and social upheaval, is God doing something new? The time period I’m referring to now, of course, is the 7th century BC, when God’s people produced the first book of Samuel. What a time it was – of stress and challenge. The old consensus had broken down. There was little reason to be hopeful. This morning’s reading begins: Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. And notice what we read next: The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

Hmmm. I wonder if that was actually true: that the word of the Lord was rare in those days, and visions were not widespread? Because, as we continue reading in First Samuel, we find that God certainly was doing something new! So I wonder, instead, if this is what was going on: that the people weren’t listening, or weren’t perceiving, or weren’t recognizing where God was moving?

In fact, that’s the reason for the comedy in the story of God’s call of Samuel to do God’s work. It’s a great story! You may remember that Samuel’s mother, Hannah, is another one of those women in the Bible way past the years of childbearing, but who has not borne a child, and that is cause for extreme shame in her ancient culture. So what does Hannah do? She makes a deal with God. We read in chapter one of First Samuel that Hannah shows up in the temple, and is praying so fervently that the priest, Eli, thinks she’s drunk and he chastises her; but Hannah says, “No, no! I’ve been praying that if God will give me a son, I’ll give him into God’s service in the temple.” Sure enough, that’s what happens!

And so, when this morning’s reading begins, two chapters later, Samuel is a young man who has been serving Eli in the temple for his whole life, and Eli has grown old. And, even though God is doing something new, people haven’t been open to hear about it, or to see it. And so the comedy begins.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out (which means that it’s almost morning), and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, "Samuel! Samuel!" and he said, "Here I am!" and ran to Eli, and said, "Here I am, for you called me." Had Eli called Samuel? Of course not! What would you have felt, had you been Eli – needing your sleep; at your advanced age, perhaps, not sleeping as well as you once did, when you were younger; and now you’ve been woken up by this young whippersnapper? Eli said (with some irritation, I’ll bet!), "I did not call; lie down again." So [Samuel] went and lay down. The Lord called again, "Samuel!" Oh, boy. Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, "Here I am, for you called me."

Now Samuel is being a real pest, right? I can hear Eli, his sleep now interrupted twice, saying the next words with a real edge in his voice: "I did not call, my son; lie down again." And then we read a pretty strange phrase: Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.

Samuel did not yet know the Lord? But he’s been serving in the temple since his earliest years! That means at least three services a day, in addition to the weekly sabbath day worship. But Samuel hasn’t had a revelatory experience of God, evidently, because he can’t recognize on his own that it is God who is calling him. Here’s what’s important for you and me, as we enter into this story: Samuel can’t hear God without help. Samuel needs another person of faith to mentor him.

That’s what happens. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. (Ah! “a third time.” Remember, whenever you’re reading the Bible, that the number “three” is one of those indicating the special working of God!) And [Samuel] got up and went to Eli, and said, "Here I am, for you called me." Then the mental light bulb goes on in that old head. Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, "Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.'" So Samuel went and lay down in his place. And it turns out that, whether or not the word of the Lord is actually rare in those days, Samuel’s going to hear it. God is doing something new.

I take it to be an article of faith that God is doing something new – at all times. Luther guides us in that way as he explains the First Article of the Creed in the Catechism: that God is creating. Present tense.

So, what is God doing that is new? In your lives? In our nation and world? Are you listening?

One of our chief functions as church is to help each other listen for God. Indeed, there is so much noise and so many competing messages, that one of our chief functions as a faith community is to help each other identify the voices we’re listening to, and, in the cacophony, to figure out which voice belongs to God.

I’ve told some people about the most important Congregation Council meeting I’ve ever participated in, so you might have heard this story before. It was an evening about 10 years ago. The Council member scheduled for opening devotions was a woman in her 30s, whose job was ending because her department was being eliminated. She had been offered a new job with the company, but it would mean a move to Salt Lake City, far, far away from family and friends. She had just heard this news. During the Council devotional period she told us about it and said she didn’t know what to do.

So, for the first 45 minutes of that Council meeting, we turned into what the Quakers call a Discernment Group. The object was to help Jennifer become open to what God was calling her to do. We asked her questions, and listened to her responses. We helped her discern among the many voices she was hearing: the voice that told her that her career was the most important thing in her life; the voice that told her that proximity to her family was most important; the voice that told her what she should do; the voice that encouraged her to do what she wanted to do. Which, among all of these, was the voice of God?

After 45 minutes of communal discernment, of listening together, as we told her what we were hearing her say, she trusted what she was hearing! She resigned from the corporation she worked for and began a job search. She has been working in New York City in the years since. (She and her fiancé were in Williamsburg a few months ago, in fact. They worshiped here on the Sunday morning!)

The point is that God is doing something new. That is true. All the time. You and I are called to listen! We are called to listen together, for and with each other.

In the name of God who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

“Trust. Holiness. Discipleship” The Baptism of Our Lord January 11, 2009

(First, read the text for this passage: Mark 1:4-9)

The last time a baptism took place in this worship space, the child being baptized cried like a banshee. Two-year old Cora struggled to escape her mother’s arms. She looked at me in terror. She screamed when I poured water on her head.

Cora’s parents were mortified.

I thought Cora’s emotions were entirely appropriate. It was as if she knew what God was getting her into, with those watery words of claim and promise – and she wasn’t sure she wanted any part of it.

I think there is a future for the church in the United States if Christians take their baptisms that seriously: as their call to live according to the dawning kingdom of God – which means, so often, resisting what our culture values.
What are some of those values? How about these? You should be independent. You should be self-reliant. You should cover up all weaknesses. Self-centeredness is important, too, because that motivates consumerism, and look at where we are now that people aren’t buying anything! Many think the aim of life is to be a comfortable as possible. Lots of money is spent on that.

Now, let’s think of what it means to live the life of baptism. We can start with the first verse of this morning’s gospel passage: John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

“A baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”

Unpack what these nine words mean. “Repentance” means turning away from what you’ve been taught about self-reliance and self-centeredness and pursing a life devoted to the maximizing of comfort – and, instead, turning towards what God calls us to do, which may not be comfortable at all! Why? Because that return is “for the forgiveness of sins” – because we are broken. (That’s what sinfulness means: that you and I are broken from God and from each other). Well, if you and I are broken, then we cannot be self-reliant – because we cannot fix ourselves. Indeed, it is futile to try to cover up our weaknesses, because then we overcompensate and cause more brokenness in our relationships with others.

A baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins is what John the baptizer brings. It is stunning that Jesus himself comes to John for baptism. Jesus! God in human flesh!

God becomes human flesh in Jesus to show us how to be human, as we were created to be: living in repentance, turned towards God; honest about our need for healing of our brokenness, for the forgiveness of our sins. In other words, Jesus embodies the life of baptism.

What deep and steadfast courage we must receive from the Spirit, to live in such humility! How counter that is to our culture which prizes, above everything else, self-aggrandizement! No wonder little two-year old Cora protested! Could it be that she needed more time to think about all of this?

There is a future for the church in the United States if Christians take their baptisms seriously, because then we will see the need for the church! We will see how much we need each other, if we are to live as God created us to live.

That is expressed in the responsibilities which parents and sponsors promise to undertake, when they bring someone to the baptismal font. (These responsibilities are so great that I will not baptize a child unless his or her parents are demonstrating that they are doing these things; or an adult, unless s/he is living in these ways.) Here’s what those responsibilities are, in the liturgy for Holy Baptism in Evangelical Lutheran Worship:

As you bring your children to receive the gift of baptism, you are entrusted with responsibilities:
to live with them among God’s faithful people,
bring them to the word of God and the holy supper,
teach them the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments,
place in their hands the holy scriptures,
and nurture them in faith and prayer,
so that your children may learn to trust God,
proclaim Christ through word and deed,
care for others and the world God made,
and work for justice and peace.

Now. Let’s look at this list again, using it to describe the life-long journey of baptism. Let me interject some paraphrase, as you read along. See if this describes the life-long journey of baptism:

Since you have received the gift of baptism from the God who created us, there are responsibilities that you have taken on. You are called to respond – by living among God’s faithful people (that means the community which we call “church”); by receiving the word of God and the holy supper (which is what we do in worship); by living according to the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments, immersed in the holy scriptures, receiving nurture in faith and prayer.

Why is all of that absolutely necessary? Because the Holy Spirit work through those practices, to form us, so that we may come to trust God.

To trust God.

I cannot tell you how often a person is in despair precisely because he does not trust God. She is in despair because she is struggling to be what she cannot be – self-reliant, and independent, and covering up weaknesses and the need for others – because she is supposed to be able to handle it herself!

But you and I cannot handle it ourselves – because we are sinful, which means we are broken. We need each other in the community we call “church.” We need to be fed by the word and the holy supper. We need to live by the grace of the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments. We need to immerse ourselves in the holy scriptures, and to receive nurture from the Spirit in prayer, as the Spirit creates and re-creates faith.

Why? So that we may learn to trust God, rather than ourselves. So that we may learn to trust God, rather than to pursue the futile quest for self-reliance and independence. In the community of the baptized, God the Holy Spirit invites and re-invites us into this trust, again and again, as the events of our lives challenge our faith. Our need for each other is constant, life-long.

Trusting God, and living in that trust, the Spirit opens you and me to the radical promise that the life of baptism is the path to joy (to use the words of the baptismal liturgy): as we proclaim Christ through word and deed, and care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace.

Is such a way of life easy? No! Will such a path of discipleship bring us into opposition to what our culture values? Often! Does the Christian life require huge amounts of courage? That’s self-evident – and thank God who, as Holy Spirit, fills us with what we cannot manufacture on our own!

One last thing. In this life of discipleship, the Holy Spirit makes us holy. It doesn’t happen through a series of lightening bolts! If you don’t pay attention, you don’t even see your growth in holiness. It happens, day-to-day, usually in small ways. As we proclaim Christ through word and deed, and care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace, we grow in holiness, as we do this work that God gives us to do. Mother Teresa famously wrote this: “Don’t look for big things, just do small things with great love.”

Robert Ellsberg holds up Dorothy Day, who died in 1980, as a model of how the Holy Spirit forms us in holiness, day-to-day. This is from Ellsberg’s introduction to the just-published diaries of Dorothy Day:

Many people tend to think of saints as otherworldly heroes, close to God but not exactly human. These diaries confirm Thomas Merton’s observation that sanctity is a matter of being more fully human: “This implies a greater capacity for concern, for suffering, for understanding, for sympathy, and also for humor, for joy, for appreciation for the good and beautiful things of life.”

To be human is constantly to fall short of the ideals one sets for oneself. Dorothy Day was no exception. There are frequent reminders in these pages of her capacity for impatience, anger, judgment, and self-righteousness. We are reminded of these things because she herself points them out. (“Thinking gloomily of the sins and shortcomings of others,” she writes, “it suddenly came to me to remember my own offenses, just as heinous as those of others. If I concern myself with my own sins and lament them, if I remember my own failures and lapses, I will not be resentful of others. This was most cheering and lifted the load of gloom from my mind. It makes one unhappy to judge people and happy to love them.”) And so we are reminded too that holiness is not a state of perfection, but a faithful striving that lasts a lifetime. It is expressed primarily in small ways, day after day, through the practice of forgiveness, patience, self-sacrifice, and compassion.

We need each other, and we need saints from other times and places, to model for each other and to guide each other in this life of holiness, this life of discipleship, this life of baptism.

Meanwhile, in the readings for this season of Epiphany, the gospel of Mark is moving at a breathtaking pace. Only four verses into the story, John the baptizer [appears] in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

Only five verses later we read, In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.

And only five verses after that, here’s what we read: Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."

We respond to this by our lives of discipleship, day-to-day, living our baptisms, practicing the faith, doing the work God gives us to do.

In the name of God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

“God In Our Flesh” Second Sunday of Christmas January 4, 2009

(First read the text for this sermon: John 1:1-18)

Merry Christmas!

Today, of course, is the Second Sunday of Christmas, and the 11th day of Christmas. (Today it’s 11 pipers piping. Or, it should be “11 fifers fifing” – since, after all, this is Williamsburg!) Tomorrow night is observed by some as “Twelfth Night.” Tuesday is the Epiphany – when the church celebrates the arrival of the wise men (or kings, or astrologers, or whatever they were and however many of them there were). But, still, today: Merry Christmas!

Does this sound like a lot of liturgical yada yada yada? Haven’t you left Christmas behind? (Who here has taken down the decorations at home?) We’re into the New Year, right? Tomorrow it’s back to work. School starts back up.

In fact, it is often the case that there is no Second Sunday of Christmas. Christmas Day has to fall late in the week for the 12 days of Christmas to include two Sundays. But I like it when there is a Second Sunday of Christmas – because, by now, our visions of sugar plum fairies have faded. The emotions you and I attach to Christmas (sweet and bitter) are not so strong. That gives us a better chance of receiving the good news of Christmas this morning. In fact, that good news can be expressed in this one sentence: And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

You recognize this sentence, from this morning’s reading in the gospel of John: what is often called the “prologue” of John. (When you look in your Bibles, I’ll bet you’ll find there’s an extra space between verse 18, where the prologue ends, and verse 19, where the gospel proper begins.) These first 18 verses are remarkable.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. The gospel of John does not have a story of Jesus' birth. Instead, it begins with a discussion of the cosmic pre-existence of the Word, which “was with God,” and “which was God.” So, this gospel begins even before creation! Before there existed anything else, there was the Word.

And so, in Genesis, God spoke creation, and the created order came to be. In Exodus and Deuteronomy, God spoke at Sinai, giving the law through Moses. God spoke through the prophets, to renew God’s promise. And then, the Word become flesh, God spoke (and speaks!) through the flesh and blood of Jesus the Christ.

Why is it that many do not hear or see or perceive God in Jesus? That has been a mystery since the very first days of Christian mission. Jesus’ earliest followers encountered rejection, mostly. That mystery is addressed in these verses we read a few minutes ago: He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. Then come crucial words: But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. So – not only the Word become flesh, but God in our flesh!

God in our flesh. Not only during those delicious days when friends and family members who love each other gather for festive celebration. But God in our flesh during routine days. God in our flesh during fearful days. God suffers that fear with you. God in our flesh on those days when the physical therapy is going badly. God suffers that despair with you. God in our flesh when your expectations are so high for yourself that you are incredibly hard on yourself. God suffers that scarcity of grace with you. Indeed, God in our flesh during those days where we’re simply feeling “the old ennui” (to quote that great theologian, Cole Porter).

Now, I say all of this. But I know as well as anyone that it is hard to know this, and to be strengthened by it, when crisis comes. When I was so sick, in the hospital, for instance, I could not receive this gift on my own. What despair! How necessary were the visits from a friend of mine named Pete, who was a chaplain at Norfolk General Hospital, who would come in and simply sit and listen. God, in Pete’s human flesh – which reminded me that God is in my flesh! We sure do need each other for the spiritual journey. That’s why the Holy Spirit creates our community with each other.

Indeed, here’s something else that’s intriguing in all of this: the Greek word translated, “lived” (as in, And the Word became flesh and lived among us) can be translated “pitched his tent.” So, think of this: of God pitching a tent with us. Where? In the wilderness, right? It’s out there that the shelter is only temporary, right? What grace and comfort there is in this: God, in the desert experiences of our lives, sharing in those experiences, in our flesh.

Christianity is the only religion so physical, when we take seriously the Incarnation – which means, God become flesh. In a Christianity that takes the Incarnation seriously, God is more than just an idea. Here is how the gospel writer puts it: No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made him known. “God the only Son” – Jesus the Christ – makes God known in his flesh and blood.

A Christianity that takes seriously the Incarnation is the only religion that is so physical. Luther, in fact, once wrote that if you don’t encounter God in your everyday activities, then you won’t encounter God anywhere. God in our flesh.

So – you and I are called into the continuing discipline of the spiritual life, introduced in the themes of Advent: of watchful openness to God. Of receiving the ability from God the Holy Spirit to perceive God in our human flesh. Of living in community with each other, because we receive such sight and insight from each other.
Indeed, in two days, comes the Epiphany (which begins the season of Epiphany). What is an epiphany? It’s an instance of revelation. It’s an experience of insight. It’s coming to understanding with clarity. The story is of the wise men, guided by a star – by the vision, the sight, the insight.

As the Spirit opens our eyes of faith, we rejoice in this physical Christmas good news: God in our flesh.

In the name of God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia