Messiah, Chorus: Glory to God

Listen: (1:59)

Glory to God in the highest,

and peace on earth

Good will toward men. 

Reflection: Listening to this setting of the angel's words in Luke 2, I find myself smiling once again at the vocal "geography." We have the highest voices singing "Glory to God in the highest," then a pause, then the lowest voices singing, "And peace on earth." If anything, it's a little on the nose, but fun, and it fills my heart with joy. 

What strikes me about this piece is not just the music, but the spaces. Handel is doing theology with the way he lets his music unfold. At the beginning, there is a very firm, unflinching separation between the high voices of heaven, and the low voices of earth. They take turns. They do not overlap. There is a wall of silence between the one and the other, much like the dome of sky God set in place at the creation, separating heaven from earth. 

But then...things start to blend. The voices interweave and harmonize on the words, "Good will toward men." Or, depending on your translation, "toward people of Good will," or "good will among those God favors." The original Greek is fuzzy, and the English words shuffle around a bit, but the message is the same: where there is good will, where there is compassion, where there is love, heaven and earth are united. 

There is a reason why God chooses not to "abduct" the shepherds up into the celestial realm to give them good news, but instead to send messengers down to earth. It's because part of the message is "Heaven and earth are getting together tonight. In the presence of this child you will soon meet, they are one and the same." 

This became the center point for the mission and message of Jesus: "The Kingdom of Heaven has come near." It became part of the way he taught his followers to pray: "Your will be done on earth as in heaven." The boundary line is dissolving, and God isn't staying on God's "side" of the divide any longer (as if the "our" side were ever any less God's home to begin with!) 

It has been such a joy to reflect on this music with you in this season of hope and expectation. My prayer for you in the approaching Christmas season, and in every season of the year, is that you might find places of love, where heaven and earth meet, and that, by God's power, you might be those places for others. God Bless you all, and when the time arrives, a Merry Christmas. 

Prayer: God, thank you for mixing things up. Thank you for melding heaven and earth in the person of Jesus Christ, who is our healing, our hope, our savior and our dear friend. Amen. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) When is the closest you ever felt to heaven? 

2) What are some ways we can show others this new reality, of "heaven come down" in the person of Jesus? 

Messiah, Recitative & Accompagnato: "There Were Shepherds..."

Listen: (1:34)


There were shepherds, abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night.

Luke 2:8

And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid.

Luke 2:9


And the angel said unto them, fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people: for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord

Luke 2:10-11

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying:
Luke 2:13

Reflection: 

In getting ready to write these devotions, I learned some opera terminology. A "recitative," if I'm correct, is a piece of musical dialogue, sung without a set rhythm, but at the normal speed of a person speaking. That's how this piece begins: in the normal, measured rhythms of a human speaker. And then, the orchestra kicks in, and we are cleared for take-off. Angels, God's glory, Good Tidings of Great Joy, setting the stage for one of the most beautiful praise songs in history...but we'll get to that. 

Luke's Gospel has by the far most set-up for Jesus' birth. Mark and John don't even have a nativity story, and Matthew's is a good deal darker, grittier, and more brief. But Luke has already been setting up the story for a while now. The shepherds, however, have not been in on any of the goings on with Mary, Joseph and their extended. They're clueless. They're going about their nights the same way they always do: watching the flock. (I got a kick out of visiting Jerusalem in 2015, to see modern shepherds walking down the street with a few sheep, looking down at their cell phones. For 3,000 years, shepherding has been a daily routine). 

As I hear this passage sung, and think about the fear, the thrill, the joy that comes so unexpectedly, I can't help thinking the story itself has become routine for us. Honestly, isn't repetition part of what is comforting about the holidays? The same songs, the same stories, Charlie Brown always getting the same crappy tree and having the same breakdown, to be comforted by Linus' same retelling of these same words, every year? What if it were different? What if we popped in the DVD one year, and Linus were coming at us from Isaiah or Malachi? What if we opened our hymnals, and "Joy to the World" were suddenly avant-garde jazz instead of the joyful baroque melody (300 years old this year, BTW)? Then maybe we'd have just a fraction of the shock and surprise the shepherds felt. The angels and a newborn savior were not part of the routine. And the news they gave changed the shepherds' lives forever. But they had to be ready for it. 

My prayer for you in these waning days of Advent, is for a few surprises from God, to break up your holiday routine, and for your readiness to accept them and praise God from them, as the shepherds did.    

Prayer: God, save us from routines, from worship of nostalgia, and from comfortable repetition. May your Word take flesh anew in us this year, and may we be ready to praise you loudly for it. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) What do you think about the role of tradition and routine in our celebration of Christmas? How does it help us, or hurt us, in welcoming the Christ Child? 

2) Have you ever had some tradition or ritual be disrupted at Christmas time? How did it affect your celebration?  

Messiah: Pastoral Symphony

Listen: (1:11)

Reflection: This short, wordless  symphony marks a transition. Oratorios are set apart from Operas in that they are strictly musical performances, with no costumes or sets. Still, in my mind, listening to this "pastoral" symphony, I picture the stage lights going down, and the backdrop of Isaiah's urban Jerusalem being rolled away, leaving only the empty Green hills: the hills outside of Bethlehem. The shepherds silently shuffle into place, ready for the stage lights to come up again. It's almost time.

I imagine for shepherds, there are many silent, wordless moments throughout the day. If you mostly work with sheep, there may be few opportunities for conversation, and plenty of time to be alone with one's thoughts.

Driving back from Maggie's bus stop this morning, I had just about had it with Christmas radio, and had definitely had my fill of news radio, so I just switched it off, and drove home as the light, dusty snow came down. It was a nice break. Too often we try to fill the silence, rather than letting silence fill us. God's presence may break in if we let our voices grow still. Silence often prepares us to hear.

Prayer:
God, grant us silent moments today, and in the frantic days to come. Amen.

Discussion Question:

1) What is the most holy silence you have ever known?

2) How comfortable are you with silence? Is it something you actively seek out? 

Messiah, Chorus: For Unto Us a Child is Given

Listen: (4:05
)

For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:5)

Reflection: If yesterday's aria was a slow sunrise, today's chorus is the full light of dawn. From minor to major, slow to fast, longing to fulfillment. Like many big changes in history, it seems to happen ever so gradually, and then all at once. 

As I mentioned yesterday, Isaiah 9 is from the 8th century BC in Jerusalem, and it seems to hail the birth of a new heir to the throne of Judah, named in honor of God, "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." The residents of Jerusalem look forward to the leadership of a new, faithful generation. 

But for nearly the whole history of Christianity, believers have also seen this prophecy as a case of history repeating itself: while the original writing may have referred to a prince in the 8th century BC, we hear these words and think of the birth of Jesus, our Prince of Peace. His reign comes not as a military conquest but as a community of welcome and healing for those in desperate need, and a word of warning to those who trust in earthly power. Our Counselor is wonderful because he reminds us to live in grace and mercy. Our God shows might by becoming weak--a baby--for us. Our Father is Everlasting because his reign exists not just in one country during one Monarch's life, but in every life that trusts in God's way of peace, forgiveness and love. 

A year ago, I was just preparing to return to work after the birth of Lars, our fourth child. It's an amazing thing, to hold a newborn in your arms and see limitless potential. But it's a different kind of miracle, a year later, to see the look in his eyes when he's doing something he knows isn't right--pulling his brother's hair or trying to crawl into the fridge for the hundredth time--and he begins to learn from mistakes. We sometimes celebrate the newness of a child without remembering how difficult it can be, for them and for us, to learn from mistakes and grow in love. 

Unto us a child is given. Let us embrace the bumpy road, the learning curve, the grace and peace that will abound from this point on. 

Prayer: God, thank you for coming to us, again and again, and especially in the Christ Child. Help us to continue to learn from him, and live in his reign of love. Amen. 

Discussion Questions:

1) We call Jesus a "King," but how is reign, and his leadership, different from any earthly government? 

2) Whether or not we are parents, there is an awful lot we can learn from interacting with young children. What have children taught you? 

Messiah, Bass Aria: The People that Walked in Darkness

Listen: (3:56)

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light,

And they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death,
on them light has shined. (Isaiah 9:2)

Reflection: 
This aria feels like a slow, gradual sunrise to me. The minor key and slow tempo meander their way toward a more confident and thrilling resolution. But it takes a while. I talked with our children in worship yesterday about the color blue as an Advent color: the color of a sky just as the sun is rising, when you can't yet see the light, but it's getting ever so slightly brighter each moment. It's too slow to really perceive with the naked eye, but it's coming.

From the post-exilic Isaiah 60, to get to Isaiah 9 we now rewind the clock by roughly 200 years. The political situation in Jerusalem is immensely complicated--it's a time of war, of multiple armies threatening Jerusalem, alliances on the table, and the question of doing the most expedient thing versus the most faithful thing is always on the mind of the king. In this context, Isaiah shares a poem about a new heir to the throne: a new generation taking leadership. Hope is coming, but it will take a while to grow and mature.

The gradual dawning of a new generation of leaders makes me think of the "Generation Z" youth, as they've been termed, making waves internationally. It calls to mind Greta Thunberg, recently named Time magazine's "Person of the Year," and the Parkland, Florida students striving for a change in gun policy. I also think of unnamed youth taking part in protests in Hong Kong, in Lebanon, and in Iran. The older generations may not always agree with what they have to say, but that has not stopped them from speaking their minds.

The light I hope to see dawn soon is a light of understanding, and a light by which we can gather together and take action on problems that have left us stumbling for far too long. I think a new generation of young people, if we choose to listen, can lend us a new kind of light--maybe to see something God has wanted us to see for a long time.

Prayer: God, shed some light on our world. Help us to see your light dawning among us, from people of all ages. Amen.

Discussion Questions: 

1) Have you ever had a "lightbulb" moment that was a very long time coming? is God's light more like an instantaneous light switch, or a long, slow sunrise? 

2) What can we learn from people born after the year 2000? How can we be better listeners?

Messiah, Bass Accompagnato

Listen (3:03) 

For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, 

and gross darkness the people:

but the Lord shall arise upon thee,

and his glory shall be seen upon thee.

And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, 

and kings to the brightness of thy rising. (Isaiah 60:2-3)

Reflection: This is a jarring change from the previous alto piece. Listening to it for the first time, I almost wondered if the recording had been edited and slowed down. It is so slow, so low, so dour. It almost feels unnatural. I listened to another live recording just to confirm: this is, in fact the original key and speed. 

The last piece included Isaiah 60:1 "Arise, shine, for thy light has come", but now we are focused on darkness. Deep darkness, or "gross darkness" to use the King James language. In the post-exilic world, the prophets have begun to realize that their "happily ever after" has not happened, not even after returning home to Jerusalem. This has led to some sense of deflation, disappointment, and maybe even a societal depression. The Messiah, the glory of God, is still yet to rise. But first there will be dark times. It will get darker before it gets lighter. 

I want to take just a moment to acknowledge that Christian people of color have cautioned us not to misuse the "dark/light" language of the Bible in such a way as to say "darkness is bad and light/whiteness is good." Our society has done too much of that in the past: seeing whiteness as a sign of good and purity, and darkness as evil, or at least less-than. That was never the intention of the Biblical authors (who, let's remember, were from the Middle East themselves and probably had dark skin). 

But in this season of the year especially, reflecting on this dirge-like piece of music, I think it is valuable to think about the atmosphere of darkness we see as the days grow shorter and the sun retreats. As I look out my window, it is the "full blaze" of morning, but it is overcast and snowing. It is beautiful, but it is not bright. And here in the north, that's a seasonal reality. 

I feel that, like the rest of nature and like this piece of music, our souls slow down a bit in the darkness. It can lead to seasonal affective disorder and depression. We need to be aware of that. But it can also be a welcome time of turning inward, and reflecting. There are a great many things--the stars, for instance--that we can only see when it is dark. 

Isaiah 60, sung by this deep, slow bass voice, seems to suggest that the darkness itself is from God. It is a different flavor of holiness. A chance to switch off the blinking yuletide lights, and let our spiritual sight acclimate, so we can be ready for the rising glory to come. 

Prayer: God, thank you for being with us in the darkness, and for sending darkness to us when we most need it. Amen. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) How do you deal with the short days of winter? How do you live differently in the darkness? 

2) Do you have memories of holy times that took place in the dark? Candle-light services? Campfires? How does God's darkness see a different kind of light?  

Messiah, Aria (Alto) & Chorus: O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion

Listen: (5:30)

O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion,

go thee

up into the high mountains o

thou that tellest

good tidings to Jerusalem lift up thy voice with strength

 lift it up, be not afraid, 

say unto the cities of Judah

 Behold your God!

O thou that  tellest good tidings to Zion, arise, shine for thy

light is come. and the glory of the Lord is risen

upon thee.

O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion, good

tidings to Jerusalem, 

Arise say unto the cities of

Judah:

 Behold your God, 

the glory of the Lord

is risen upon thee

(Isaiah 40:9, Isaiah 60:1)

Reflection: This aria and chorus weave together two verses from two different parts of Isaiah: 40:9 (written during the Babylonian exile, and continuing with the opening texts) and 60:1, which was most likely written after the return to Jerusalem.

To me the music sounds like a singular cry of a leader, becoming an increasingly popular movement, gaining in momentum and energy as the chorus progresses.

God's command to the prophet is, "get up on the mountains, lift up your voice, do not be afraid!" God does not promise instant results. God doesn't say the whole nation will instantly pick up their lives after 70 years and March right back to Jerusalem. In fact, a significant population of Jews remained in Babylon (which became Iraq) well into the modern era. But that was not the prophet's problem. The prophet's job is to get up and proclaim the message as loudly as possible, and let God do the rest.

This is an important reminder to me all year, but especially in Advent, when we hope for a world yet to come: our job is to share God's love with our words and actions, and let the chips fall where they may. We get way too distracted sometimes with notions of "success,"  or "winning", whether in our faith communities or our jobs or our families or our nation. Never forget: success in God's eyes is simply for us to show up again today, and share God's love. That's it. That's all. It'll look different every day, but it will never be about winning. To Jesus, sharing God's love with a neighbor is winning, period. It doesn't matter how they receive it or what happens next. Just get up on your mountain and tell this world what you know.

Prayer: God our light, help us to arise and shine again this morning.

Discussion Questions: 

1) What is something that keeps you going when you are feeling unmotivated? 

2) What does it look like to "get up on a high mountain" and share the story of Jesus, in a world that may have bad impressions of organized religion? 

Messiah, Recitative (Alto) Behold, a Virgin Shall Conceive

Listen: (0:30)

Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son

and shall call him Emmanuel,

"God with Us" (Isaiah 7:14)

Reflection:  
Starting as early as the Gospel of Matthew, Christians have interpreted this prophecy to refer directly to the birth of Jesus, but the context of the original passage from Isaiah is the Assyrian war seven hundred years prior. I am a literature major, so I've always been pretty comfortable with the idea of a text having different meanings for different audiences. In fact, it deepens the meaning of this text for me, to understand that it's been used twice, in very different contexts. First, it was used in the eighth century BC, as a sign to King Ahaz that in less than nine months, the time it takes for a pregnant woman to give birth, the armies of which is is so scared will be dispatched. And second, among Jewish Christians in the first century, to remember that God has indeed come to be "with us" in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah. In fact, I think it's sort of silly to assume the Gospel writers were somehow unaware of the context of the prophecies they used. Their response would likely be, "Oh, yeah. That's what it meant for them then. But this is what it means for us now." Biblical passages can mean different things at different times. But the meaning behind both is the same: God was with the people of Jerusalem 2700 years ago. God was with Mary and Joseph 2,000 years ago. And God is with us today.

Prayer: Thank you, God, for your Word which takes on flesh in different ways at different times. And thank you for the Word that takes on flesh for us in Jesus. Amen.

Discussion Questions:

1) In what ways has God been with you in the past year? 

2) Can you think of a Bible passage that has had different meanings for you at different times in your life? 

Messiah, Chorus: And He Shall Purify the Sons of Levi

Listen: (2:25)

And he shall Purify the Sons of Levi

That they may offer into the Lord an offering in righteousness. (Malachi 3:3)

Reflection: 

To me the quick tempo, and the dynamic that starts quiet and builds,  takes on the character of anxious whispering in a crowd that becomes a shout. This Messiah will set Israel right, starting with the "Sons of Levi," AKA the temple priests. This may not be Handel's intention, but to me it foreshadows the kind of urgent, hushed conversations that must have begun right after Jesus turned over the money changing tables in the temple. 

Like the image of refiner's fire from yesterday, being purified hurts. It requires confrontation and truth-telling. It requires willingness to let go of our own self-interest and defensiveness. And sometimes it requires suspending our notions of niceness, politeness and decorum. If being nice could have purified this world, Jesus would not have been mailed to a cross. 

Prayer: Jesus, purify me, and purify this world. And give us the strength to receive it as a gift. 

Messiah, Bass (Or Alto?) "But Who May Abide..."

Listen (4:46)

But who may abide the day of his coming, 

and who shall stand when he appeareth? 

For he is like a refiner's fire. 

(Malachi 3: 2)

Reflection

Malachi continues with his warning of God's sudden appearance in the midst of a bored, complacent temple worship. Malachi sides with the majority opinion of prophets in this matter, which is, in short: 

"You think you want the day of the Lord. Believe me, you don't." 

The tradition of the "day of the Lord" in the post-exilic prophets, which becomes "Judgment Day" in the New Testament, foretells a time when the truth is revealed. There will be no hiding from who we are, what we have done, and how it has affected others. I'm with Malachi here: as much as we use words like "hope," and "expectation," and "anticipation" as we observe Advent, as much as we cry out, "Come Lord Jesus," I don't think we understand the full import of what we are saying. It's human nature to joyfully expect the judgment of others. But that refiner's fire is coming for us, too. We too will feel the heat, will be melted down, and it will be revealed that we are not who we said we were, or even thought we were. Refining means loss. It means that, just as some impurities are removed from silver, certain aspects of who we are--not just the stuff we're not proud of, but more than likely, some things we are proud of, or even cherish--are not going to make it into the final version of ourselves that God has in mind. 

As a dyed-in-the-wool Lutheran, I believe the passages of scripture that say it's God's grace that saves us, through our faith in Christ. But the thing I hear in Malachi is that this "saving" will probably hurt, and the "us" who are saved may be strikingly different from the "us" we picture. My natural human reaction is to fear that, not to abide that or stand for it. Only by the Holy Spirit can I say, "Come Lord Jesus," understanding what that really means. 

Prayer

Jesus, have mercy on us. By your Holy Spirit, begin the work of refining us, melting us down, and shaping us into who you want us to be. Help us not be too attached to the form we take in this life, so we can be ready for what is coming. Amen. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) If you grew up hearing about the Day of Judgment, what kind of images or feelings did it evoke for you? 

2) What are some aspects of our minds or spirits that might be difficult to lose? Are there parts of ourselves that we hope will go away? 

3) Advent prepares us, not for Christmas, but for Christ's return. How do you think Advent would be different if it were observed in a whole different time of year, without any connection to Christmas?   

Messiah, Baritone: "Thus Saith the Lord"

Listen: 1:37

This saith the Lord of Hosts:

Yet once, a little while, 

And I will shake the heavens and the earth,

The sea and dry land, 

And I will shake all nations, 

And the desire of the nations shall come. (Haggai 2:6-7)

The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple,

Ev'n the messenger of the Covenant, whom ye delight in,

Behold he shall come,

Saith the Lord of Hosts. (Malachi 3:1)

Reflection: Biblically, we've made a leap here from Second Isaiah (right in the middle of the Babylonian Exile) to two different post-exilic prophets, Haggai and Malachi. The single, powerful  baritone voice taking center stage, brings our attention to the surprising--even shocking--nature of God's coming to dwell among us.

Haggai is a key player in the historical books of Ezra and Nehemiah. He comes at a time when the people have already been back in Jerusalem for almost 20 years, but the temple still is not rebuilt. They are slumping into complacency and despair, when Haggai comes along as a powerful cheerleader for the rebuilding of the temple.

Malachi, on the other hand, is not only the final book of the Old Testament, but may have been one of the last written. His words come at a time when the temple has already been rebuilt, but temple worship has become a matter of "going through the motions." People are not giving a tithe to God, as commanded, and sacrifices are not made with care. Malachi warns that God will suddenly show up in the temple in a dramatic way. More in this to come...

I think anyone who has ever been part of a religious community, or a choir, or any group with a common identity and purpose for that matter, must be familiar with the kind of malaise these two prophets have dealt with. I will fervently defend the notion that  if you're committed to something, you keep showing up, no matter how you feel about it. If a choir gave up on a performance, or a church stopped doing ministry, or a community organization gave up on a goal, just because they weren't all that excited about it one day, our world would be in even more trouble than we are today.

But still, we need prophets like Haggai and Malachi now and again, to remind us that God can, and often does, show up unexpectedly, with just the kick-in-the-pants we need, to remember we are engaged in holy work, and our advocate is the one who made the heavens and the earth, and who is more than willing to shake them up a bit to awaken us.

Prayer: God, shake the heavens and the earth today. Show up in our holy places. Remind us who and what we stand for. Stir us from complacency. Amen.

Discussion Questions: 

1) I know we say Jesus is present whenever two or three are gathered in his name. But what might happen in the average American Church, if Jesus suddenly showed up personally and visibly? How would he react to our worship? And how might worshipers react to him? 

2) When was a time when God shook your world and gave you a necessary wake-up call?   

Messiah, Chorus: And The Glory of the Lord

Listen (2:52)

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,

and all flesh shall see it together, 

for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. 

Reflection: One of the things that sets an oratorio apart from an opera, of which Handel also wrote many, is the choruses. This is the first taste we get of the choir at full volume, echoing back and forth, playing with the melody other sections have just sung. The word translated "glory" here also means abundance, wealth or splendor. This is a promise to the exiled Judahites that God's glory will once again shine in Jerusalem. 

But I have to also think that Handel has in mind the "glory of the Lord" that shines all around the terrified shepherds in Bethlehem. To me, this chorus sounds like a preview of the angels singing "Glory to God in the highest" on Christmas night.

It certainly must have been a potent image for this nation which endured such suffering, to hear that one day God's glory will be revealed again, for all flesh to see. I think sometimes when we lose something important to us--whether it's a home, a relationship, a job, or some sense of the way the world is--it can be very tempting to want to rewind the clock, and imagine what it would be like if everything was "back the way it was." But this promise of God's glory being revealed was fulfilled in a very different way than what God's people first pictured. Ultimately, instead of on a battle field or in a throne room, God's glory was revealed in a manger. Sometimes if we dwell too much on "past glory," we may be less able to see the glory being revealed right in front of our eyes, because it looks so different from how we pictured. 

Prayer: God, reveal your glory to us and to all flesh. Help us to see your presence in places and people we never would have imagined. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) What does "glory" mean to you? Why is it a good thing for God's glory to be revealed?

2) How can people of faith avoid the mistake of trying to bring power and glory to ourselves instead of God?   

Messiah: Tenor Aria, "Every Valley Shall Be Exalted"

Listen: (3:32)

Ev'ry valley shall be exalted

and ev'ry mountain and hill made low

the crooked straight

and the rough places plain. (Isaiah 40:4)

Reflection: As we move on to the next verse from Isaiah, the pace picks up. The mood moves from comfort to exhilaration. What I love about this piece is that it does what it says. There are so many little ups and downs in the orchestral score, that I almost picture running up and down past rolling hills and mountains. As the soloist sings about valleys exalted, he works his way up the scale, as though by singing alone he is doing the raising. 

From the very beginning of the Hebrew Scriptures, God makes things happen by speaking. In the first chapter of Genesis, God's word, "let there be light," is all it takes for light to come into being. There are a lot of metaphorical valleys and hills in our world that may seem like permanent obstacles to God's reaching us. War, poverty, racism, greed, and complacency seem like such immovable fixtures in humankind. But the same God who can make create the world from nothing, and who can make dry bones live again, all with just a word, can smooth over even these things when the time is right. 

Prayer: God, make the crooked places straight and the rough places plain in our spirits. Only speak, and anything that would prevent us from hearing your voice can be smoothed out. Speak to us now. 

Questions for discussion: 

1) What is a "crooked" or "rough" place in our world, in need of God's help? What would it look like for it to be smoothed out? 

2) What about in our own lives? Where are the rough places? 

3) Have you ever had a situation where just speaking the right words have changed a whole situation? How does God's word do that for us? 

Messiah, Tenor Accompagnato: "Comfort Ye"

Listen: 3:25

Comfort ye, Comfort ye my people

saith your God.

Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem

and cry unto her that her her warfare is accomplish'd,

that her iniquity is pardoned. 

The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness:

Prepare ye the way of the Lord,

make straight in the desert a pathway for our God. 

(Isaiah 40:1-3, KJV)

Reflection: 

From the minor key of the opening symphony, we now hear a gentle, flowing melody in a major key. A song of comfort. A Tenor, in gentle but firm tones, sings the first two words: "Comfort ye." Handel chooses to begin his oratorio with a word of comfort from Isaiah. 

The "people" God tells the prophet to comfort are the people of Jerusalem, the people who have spent a generation exiled from home, in Babylon. By saying "her warfare is accomplished," and "her iniquity is pardoned," God is letting the people know: You are forgiven. You are coming home soon. And yet, over the centuries, Jews still felt a sense of "exile" even after returning to their homeland. Things were never quite the same. That's where the idea of a "Messiah" began: a faithful,anointed Jewish king who would properly establish God's rule. But first, a voice needed to cry out in the wilderness, "prepare ye the way of the Lord." That is a role John the Baptist, cousin of Jesus, eventually took upon himself. 

Comfort looks different to different people. I myself am an introvert: I love to interact with people, but it does take energy, and as the weather gets colder, there's nothing quite like a warm house, a hot cup of tea, a good book and/or a full Netflix queue. It's ironic that this holiday season can become so frantically busy at a time when our biological instinct is to withdraw into our "hobbit holes" and hibernate. As the days get shorter, our to-do lists become longer, and it can be taxing for even the most caffeinated of go-getters. My prayer for you in this Advent season is that you find some quiet moments of comfort, and hear God's voice echo in your heart, that your warfare is accomplished, and your iniquities are pardoned. In Jesus, the Messiah, we have peace with God, and that peace can change us from within, and change the world into a more peaceful place. But first, we have to let ourselves be comforted. 

Questions for discussion: 

1) What does "comfort" look like to you? Physically? Mentally? Spiritually?

2) Is there a difference between being "comforted" and being "comfortable"? Are there times when God wants us to go beyond our comfort zone in order to comfort others?

3) If you were a voice "crying in the wilderness" today, what would you cry? What do people most need to hear in order to be ready for God's presence?   

Messiah, Overture: Music of Exile

Listen: Symphony (3:25)

Reflection: Pain. Oppression. Burdens. Frustration. Starting with a powerful E minor, the opening chords of  Handel's overture hit me like tidal waves of sadness. Then, partway through, the pace picks up, and so does the sense of tension and urgency. What before felt like a siege becomes a midnight escape.

In the context of the Isaiah passages we'll hear sung this week, this overture to me tells the story of the people of Israel. In the 6th century BC, the time when Isaiah 40 was likely written, the people of Judah were exiled from their homes. They had seen Jerusalem under siege by the Babylonian Empire. Their food and water cut off. Their temple--the one built in grand fashion by Solomon, which had stood for centuries--was destroyed, and its temple implements destroyed. The best and brightest minds of Judahite culture were taken hundreds of miles from home to live in Babylon. I don't know if this was Handel's intention in writing the opening symphony, but for me, this sense of exile from home, of being out of place in our lives and with our God, is essential to understanding the writings of the prophets.

I can't in a million years imagine what it feels like to be removed from my country by force, with no idea when I will return home. But I do know that there are many people on this planet, and in our own country, who know exactly what that feels like. As I hear this symphony, my heart and mind are going out to people in refugee camps across this world, exiled from their homes.

The closest I ever came to being a refugee was my internship year during seminary in Libby, Montana. Our landlord had found mold in our apartment, had took a less than charitable attitude toward Laura and me as a result. We were (illegally) asked to leave permanently with one week's notice, and that week was...wait for it...Holy Week. We were "house sitting" for friends on Easter Sunday, and for a couple of weeks that year, we were technically homeless. But what I learned from that experience was, as terrifying as it can be to not have a place to call home, it opened my eyes to the many ways God blessed us through people's kindness. From an edlerly member who volunteered her garage for us to temporarily store our stuff, to a member who owned a house which just happened to be across the street from church, it all came together, and we knew God was still caring for us. Even in times of exile, God is our shelter.

Questions for discussion: 

What feelings does this opening symphony evoke for you? 


When is a time in your life when you felt you were in exile? How did your feel God's presence (or absence) during that time? 


Who can you think of (personally, nationally or globally) who may be in exile, or "homeless", today? What is one way we can be God's presence for them? 

Prayer: God, you are our home and our shelter in times of uncertainty. Be with all people exiled from their homes today. Remind them of your presence and your comfort. In Jesus' name, Amen. 





  

Psalm 50:7-14 No Bull

⁷"Hear, O my people, and I will speak,
O Israel, I will testify against you.
I am God, your God.
⁸Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you;
your burnt offerings are continually before me.
⁹I will not accept a bull from your house,
or goats from your folds.
¹⁰For every wild animal of the forest is mine,
the cattle on a thousand hills.
¹¹I know all the birds of the air,
and all that moves in the field is mine.
¹²"If I were hungry, I would not tell you,
for the world and all that is in it is mine.
¹³Do I eat the flesh of bulls,
or drink the blood of goats?
¹⁴Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving,
and pay your vows to the Most High.

Observation: God makes a point that's fascinatingly obvious, yet easy to forget. Our "trading" relationship with God is completely one-sided. People can not "feed" God with offerings or "give" God anything that doesn't already belong to God. What God wants instead is our thanks. 

Application: I still remember a time in middle school when my best friend Jason paid for something for both of us--I can't remember if it was a movie, or lunch, or what--and I said, "Ok, I owe you X dollars", and Jason said, "Don't worry about it. I know you'll get something for us later, there's no need to keep track." I remember feeling hugely honored that our friendship had reached the point where we stop keeping track, where we just do for each other when we can, because we know eventually others will do for us. I don't know that even some families necessarily get to that point, and if they do, it's not easy to stay there.

That's the kind of relationship, I think, that God wants with us. 

In ancient times, the temple sacrifice system worked under the implied idea that we could "get paid up" with God. That the right animals, sacrificed at the right time for the right reasons, could remove any outstanding debts and get us "even" again. 

To this, God's response (which becomes a double entendre in English) is, "No Bull." No more deluding ourselves. No more bribes or payoffs or protection money. God is not our landlord. God is our Loving Parent, who just by speaking us into being has done more for us than we can ever pay back. 

What God asks for is gratitude. Gratitude is not a repayment. It's not a check, cash or IOU. It's the acknowledgement that God has done something for us that we can't repay, and the best we can do is say that out loud, and live like we've been blessed. 

Prayer: God, thank you, thank you, thank you. Help me to cut the "bull", and just live in thankfulness. 

Daniel 5:1-12 You Don't Know, But You Know.

CW: Suicide

Observation: King Belshazzar of Babylon is having a wild, drunken party, and asks for vessels of gold and silver that he pillaged from the Jerusalem Temple to be brought in. The people drink wine from them and praise the gods of gold and silver. Suddenly, a human hand appears and starts writing something that nobody can read...creepy. Similar to the story of Joseph from Genesis, someone brings up Daniel, who has a special ability to interpret signs from God. What strikes me about this passage is that even though the King has no idea what it says, he knows it probably isn't a dinner invitation. He's pale and his knees are knocking. He knows it's not good news.

Application: This passage just reminds me that God gives us instincts for a reason. Like the King, sometimes something will happen in our lives, and if we're paying attention, we'll think, "oh, that can't be good." I don't mean anything so frightening as a human hand writing on a wall...maybe it's a friend who suddenly drops out of touch, or a son or daughter who's normally talkative becoming more distant. You don't have to be a prophet to know that the metaphorical "check engine light" has come on somewhere in our lives, and it's time to pray about it, and check in with the person we're concerned about.

I just read that in the most recent CDC report on the suicide rate among young people had dramatically increased since 2007, especially among young girls. Suicide is the second leading cause of death for middle and high school youth. Thinking about this and reading this Biblical text, I'm reminded that if we suspect something might be wrong, even if you're not sure how or what, it is never, ever wrong to check in. Call. Text. Connect. Listen non-judgmentally. Trust your instincts. You may not know for sure, but some part of you may know something that needs to be acted upon.

Sometimes, people will throw us for a loop, and the things they do will seemingly come out of nowhere. We can't hold ourselves responsible for what they do. We just can't. But also, you'll never regret checking in with someone you care about, even if you find out everything's fine, because once in a while it may not be. 

If you or someone you love is struggling with suicidal thoughts, you can call the U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) at any time day or night or chat online at suicidepreventionlifeline.org. 

Prayer: God, keep our eyes and ears open. Help us to trust our instincts, and be open about our concerns with those we c are about. Amen. 
   

2 Timothy 3:1-9 "Just Gimme Some Truth"

Observation: Near the end of this second letter, Paul (or the author writing in Paul's name) warns of distressing times in the last days. The worst part of human nature will come out: selfishness, greed, dishonesty and contempt for the truth will run rampant. I'm not fond of the sexist stereotype that the predicted con artists will "make their way into households and captivate silly women." Even though in the first century more men than women had access to education, in my experience today I find men just as likely as women to be willingly led astray. What really jumps out at me in this text is the writer makes it clear that access to truth isn't the problem: it's accepting it.

Application: Reading this text, I hear John Lennon's caustic 1971 protest song, "Just Gimme Some Truth!" Although that song is 48 years old now, the feeling of deep frustration really resonates. Today, we have instant access to more information than all previous generations of humankind combined. But despite all that, white supremacy is on the rise, diseases we've had vaccines for for generations are making a comeback in supposedly "developed" countries, and Netflix has a feature-length documentary made by people who believe the earth is flat.

"All I want is some truth. Just Gimme some truth!" 

I will not disobey Jesus by speculating about whether the end times are near. It sounds from 2 Timothy as though the writer suspected they were already near in the late first century. What I will say is this: truth hasn't gone anywhere. It's our world that has changed. And for me as a follower of Jesus, this change is a call to action, not to try to change the world back to some idealized time in the past, but to hold closer to the truth I know in the Gospel. To read my Bible, for myself, a little bit each day, and let it affect the way I view myself, my neighbor and my world. To let God's truth--that every human being is made in God's image, and Jesus offered up his life for each and every one of us--guide my perceptions and my actions. To ask God, "just give me some truth," and be ready to receive it when it comes.

Prayer: God, just give me some truth. Remind me of who I am in you, and help me to be that person for the benefit of others, and for the world you gave your life to save. Amen. 

2 Samuel 25:36-42

"WHO KILLS HUMPERDINCK?"

Observation: In yesterday's text, Abigail talks King David down from taking violent revenge upon Nabal, her husband, for insulting David's men. In today's text, Nabal dies ten days after overindulging in alcohol at a feast. David sees this as divine punishment on his behalf. He is grateful to God that he did not avenge himself, but rather that God settled the score.

Application: Yikes. Let me just first own that this, and many other parts of King David's story, makes me uncomfortable. I guess I'm glad that David didn't respond the way most kings would have, and slaughter all the men in Nabal's camp...but we have Abigail to thank for that, because without her apology and gift, that's exactly what David would have done. And the "moral" of the story seems to be that David was rewarded for restraining himself, by God intervening and striking down Nabal. "Let God do your dirty work," I guess?

There's a lot in the Bible, both Old and New Testament, about God settling scores: punishing the wicked and rewarding the righteous. That's a central aspect of the idea of a final judgment. We in the Western world have latched onto the Eastern concept of karma--though most of us don't fully understand it--as the idea that "what goes around comes around." But of course, the whole idea of grace is that God gives us blessings we don't deserve. And mercy means God refrains from giving us punishments we do deserve. So, if we really believe that on the cross God is reconciling all things to God's self, then we have to ask the question: is divine justice a deal-breaker? Would we be okay with a God who sets things right in the end, but who doesn't necessarily let everything that goes around, come around?

Prayer: God, thank you for your grace. Thank you that I don't get what I deserve. Help me reflect that same grace and mercy in my way of being in the world. Amen.
   

2 Samuel 25:31-35 The Lord and the "lord"

Observation: King David has been disrespected by a man named Nabal, whose wife Abigail then comes to apologize profusely and bring a gift, in the hope that David does not take vengeance. In English this passage is tricky, because Abigail invokes all kinds of blessings of "The Lord" (YHWH, God of Israel) upon "my lord" (meaning King David). I had to read it a couple times to get it. But I think it's an intentional move on Abigail's part, even as she's blessing him, to always remind David: "You are 'my lord', but you aren't THE Lord. Be gentle." David takes the hint and has mercy. Abigail eventually becomes his wife, which is probably good for David and definitely good for Abigail, but not so good for Nabal...but that's another story.

Application: To me, this is just a reminder that there are many "lords" in my life--many people who, for better or worse, wield great influence over my day to day existence. But there's only one Lord (capital L). When my people-pleasing tendencies threaten to hamper the ministry I'm called to do, it's best to check in with God. When I do that, it's easier to take a breath, acknowledge the tummy butterflies, and remind any would-be "lord" that I already have a Lord, and I'll be doing that Lord's will today, thanks.

Prayer:
Lord, you alone are the source, the guide, and the restorer of my life. May your will be done on earth--and in my life--as in heaven. Amen. 

Isaiah 43:10-13 One God, Zero Excuses

Observation: God reminds the Judahite kingdom, in exile in Babylon, that not only did God exist before there was anything and will exist after, but there never have been, or ever will be, other gods. 

Application: When I talk with middle school students about the First Commandment, "You shall have no other gods before me," I make it clear: I do not suspect you of having idols to Zeus or Mars or Aphrodite under your beds. But that doesn't mean you never break the First Commandment. In fact that's the easiest one to break. Most folks in my church don't have a literal belief that other gods exist. Theologically speaking, getting the population of gods in our minds up to one is challenge enough. But practically speaking, there are plenty of gods in our lives, if we define it the way theologian Paul Tillich did, as the "ultimate concern." Anything we trust in when times get tough, anything to which we give a huge amount of time, attention, money, effort, and devotion, can become a god for us. 

Right now, if I'm being totally honest, my god is "getting things done." Looking at the way I spend my days, and ask whether I expect any help from God, or intend to do anything at all beyond the scope of what I myself can accomplish in the roughly 15 waking hours I have available--anything that would require God's help--I need to repent, reset, and let God be god in my life. I'm going to have to let some things go and turn some things over to God, and that's going to hurt. 

Prayer: God, help me. Help me center you, and let you set the agenda. Help me worry less about all the things I can do, and worry more about the few things I should do, which are the things you place before me. Be my god. Because frankly I'm terrible at it and I need a break.  

Acts 17:22-34 Love Letter to My Favorite Sermon

Observation: When Paul wrote about becoming "all things to all people," that was no joke. He had this uncanny ability to tap into the culture in which he was sharing the Gospel, and speak their language, both literally and figuratively. In Athens, Paul knows he's facing a tough crowd. It's the intellectual and theological center of the Greco-Roman world. It's the central marketplace of ideas. The Araepagus is the Carnegie Hall of rhetoric and philosophical argument. Or, depending on your chops, it could also be the Apollo theater.

Paul is prepared. This is his moment.

 He begins by flattering the Athenians: "I see how religious you are." You know, on account of the hundreds of polytheistic idols.

Then he sees his in: the "idol to an unknown God." Okay. We can work with this.

"What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you..."

And here comes the Gospel. One God, who made heaven and earth, is near to us always--in God we live, move, and have our being--and if that weren't good enough news, that God can be known in the person of Jesus, who walked among us, died for us, and now lives, having risen from the dead to show God's love.

Mic drop. This is it. If they don't buy this, I've got nothing.

And...

It ain't Pentecost. There's no three thousand baptisms. But the Athenians are intrigued. A few say, "we will hear from you again," which is high praise. And a handful of people begin their walk with Christ that day. To these few, this day made all the difference in the world.

Application: I just love this sermon. It's poetic, it's forceful, it's short and to the point, and most of all, it appeals to our common humanity. Everyone wants to feel that they are more than just an accident: that they were lovingly created by one who can be, and wants to be, known. As I read this sermon I just give thanks to God that I'm part of a movement tasked with simply telling a compelling and true story, and giving away love that changes the world.

Prayer: God, thank you for the message and mission you have given to us. Thank you for the privilege of giving away Good News to a world that badly needs it. Amen. 

Matthew 10:5-15 You got it for free. Share it for free.

Observation: Jesus sends his disciples out to do everything he's already been doing: Announce God's kingdom, cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons. This in itself seems like a pretty extreme leap of faith. But the even bigger leap is that they are to do all this for free: "You received without payment. Give without payment." 

Application: In the world we live in, nothing is free. Sure, you get free samples in the grocery store, or free trials of software, but you know darn well the point of that is they hope you'll but their products. When someone offers you something that's truly free of charge the question arises, "Hey, what gives? What's the catch? Is there something wrong with it? Am I committing to something I don't know about? Where's the fine print?" 

Jesus insists that there should genuinely be no catch, no fine print, no membership agreement, no "trial period" with charges to come afterward. Everything God has to offer--the healing, salvation, justice and peace that comes with God's will being done on earth--all of it is a gift. Free now, free forever.

Unfortunately that's not always true with the church. Hey, I know better than anyone we've got bills to pay. I have a family to feed too, so I can't be a pastor for free. But here's the big question: when we announce God's kingdom to the world, either with our words in worship or with our actions in service, is it really free of charge? Do we expect to gain something, whether it's church members, or money, or attention, or influence, or power, by what we do? Or is it really and truly just a grateful response to the wonderful gifts God already gave us for free? Do we see our connection to the surrounding community as a "quid pro quo", asking for something in return for the good we do? Do we see the bottom line of evangelism as just "getting more members," or is it really just giving away God's love? How free is our Gospel really? 

Prayer: God, thank you for the free gift of Grace and peace with you through Jesus Christ's sacrifice. Help us to simply give your love away, trusting that it is the force that governs and restores  all creation. Amen.

Psalm 61: Refuge and Stability

Observation: the first half of this psalm seems very personal. The writer asks God to listen, to guide, to be a refuge. The second half is more political: "prolong the life of the king." But the more I read in the Bible about monarchy, and especially about how unstable things got when there was a transition of power, the more I think in this case the political, too, is personal. The psalmist is praying for stability. For peace.

Application: I'm not sure if this is legit or not, but I remember hearing that there's an old Chinese curse for an adversary, "May you live in interesting times." It certainly tracks with the idea in many cultures that, even if life isn't perfect, if it's predictable--dare I say, "boring"?--it's pretty good. Considering the "interesting times" in which we live, in which every new day brings a new crisis, nationally, internationally, environmentally, I can empathize with the Psalmist's cry: "Hide me. Guide me. Be my refuge." It's okay, maybe even preferable, to pray for more boring times. But here's a question I'm pondering: If God answers that prayer by making my life more "interesting" so my children's and grandchildren's can be "boring", would I make that sacrifice? As always, be careful what you pray for.

Prayer: Oh God, make our lives more boring. Be our peace and refuge. Hide us in the shadow of your wings. But Lord, make us willing to do our part to make this world a more peaceful, stable, "boring" place. If that means we make personal changes now, make us strong and help us live into the new normal for you and for future generations. Amen. 

Leviticus 14:33-53 The Priestly Role

Observation: Some of the religious laws in the Torah read almost like public health regulations. And in a way, they are. This collection of verses is instruction  for priests on  how to spot an infectious disease like leprosy, how to quarantine and, if necessary, destroy a house in which it is found, and how to inspect to ensure the sufferer has become healthy again. Before doctors, the priests were the experts on health and disease.

Application: I'm glad we now have a public health system, and we know more about how diseases spread and how to treat them. Being sick in Biblical times would have been awful. I'm glad we (generally) trust doctors and nurses to care for the sick.

But as Christians (Martin Luther called us the "priesthood of all believers") we're not totally off the hook. We have doctors to diagnose physical diseases, but it's still important for us to know how to spot spiritual diseases. By this, I definitely do not mean mental illness: rather, I mean attitudes that we often take for granted that are harmful to our neighbors and ourselves. Just as Jesus had a keen eye for spotting spiritual illness--he could sense greed, xenophobia, and self-righteousness from a hundred paces--it's vitally important for us to train our own sight. Spiritual illness doesn't just go away on its own, and it's human nature to let it go untreated. That's where followers of Jesus come in. Let's be the priesthood the world needs.

Prayer: God, heal my spirit. Heal me of my need for control, my inability to trust in you. Help me to walk humbly alongside your other patients, as we come to you for care. Amen.

Habakkuk 2:12-20 Building on Bloodshed

Observation: The prophet rails against those who "build a town by bloodshed" and promises that someday soon the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, "as the water's cover the sea." Though this may seem to be a good thing, here it reads as a warning. If you really want to know what God is like and what God thinks, get ready to be held accountable for an awful lot of violence and injustice, both to humans, animals, and the earth itself.

Application: I think of the community where I live as pretty peaceful. There's a relatively low crime rate compared to other places. But just because you can't see violence doesn't mean it's not there. Monday is Indigenous People's Day. It's a day to remember that I live on what was once Obijwe and Potawatomi land. How to make peace with that in the present day, I'm not sure, except to acknowledge it and learn about it, so I can stand up against similar exploitation in the future. It's also a good time to remember that violence against animals and the land itself is equally abhorrent to God as violence against people. From the prophet today, I learn that violence we're used to, or used to ignoring, is violence all the same.

Prayer: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. May that peace begin with honesty and inward repentance.
Amen. 

Revelation 2:8-11 Poverty of the Rich

Observation: The Apocalypse (Or "Revelation") to John begins with messages from Jesus to each of seven Christian congregations in Asia Minor (modern Turkey). What stands out to me in his message to Smyrna is "I know your affliction and poverty, even though you are rich."




Application: this verse made me think of the above quote. Of course because it's been propagated online, it's hard to tell who said it, but it's true: "Some people are so poor, all they have is money."

It also reminds me of the song "dig a little deeper" from the Disney movie "The Princess and the Frog". Singing to a destitute Prince Naveen, the wise woman Mama Odie says,


Prince Froggy is a rich little boy
You wanna be rich again
That ain't gonna make you happy now
Did it make you happy then? No!

Money can be a powerful pain-killer. It can dull all sorts of spiritual aches, but just like other pain killers, that dulling comes at a great cost. It is addictive, and the story you believe about yourself when you have it, and even more so when you lose it, is even more addictive. But it does nothing to deal with the root cause of your pain in the first place. We spend way too much of our selves tracking down a financial solution to a spiritual problem. Maybe instead, we should acknowledge our inner poverty--our need for God, and for moments of divine abundance, which can turn whatever we have into a holy "enough."




Prayer: God, help me dig a little deeper, and find the fulfillment I need in you, and in the beautiful people you have placed in my life. Amen.