Epiphany – Herod Lives

“Then Herod secretly called for the magi and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” Matthew 2:7-8

I am embarrassed to admit this. It took me till the third anniversary of January 6 to realize that horrible event took place on Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas. So for the last 24 hours since that light went on in my head I’ve been trying to think of some way to make theological sense of that convergence of those two radically different events. I don’t believe in coincidences; so I knew there had to be a connection, but all I was coming up with was that the attack on the very core of our democracy was even worse because it happened on Epiphany.

There are just a handful of dates in my lifetime that burned such a mark on my psyche that I will always remember where I was when I first heard about them: the assassinations of JFK, MLK, and RFK; the explosion of the Challenger space shuttle; 9/11; the election of Donald Trump; and the insurrection against our government on January 6, 2021.

I was working my home office that day but had the TV on fearing there might be trouble around the certification of Joe Biden’s election as President. But even though I was worried there might be some kind of trouble at the Capitol that day I never in my wildest imagination expected what played out on my TV screen that awful afternoon. As I watched the badly outnumbered Capitol police be overrun by an angry mob that began scaling the walls of the Capitol building, smashing windows, and swarming into the halls of Congress I sat there in stunned silence. Feeling helpless I finally did the only thing I could think to do. I got on Facebook, and I still remember exactly what I said: “Whatever you are doing, stop and pray. Our democracy is under attack.”

During worship this morning at our church it finally dawned on me what the connection was between the insurrection and. Epiphany. After preaching about the light of the star that leads us to Jesus our pastor, Chris Rinker, went on to say that we also need to remember that there are always forces of darkness that try to snuff out the light. There are always Herods who are so insecure and so desperate to preserve their own power that they will do anything to put down any threat real or imagined to their fragile egos.

Of course there are. I remember as a young pastor many years ago preaching on Matthew’s story of the Magi and Herod, and the title of that sermon was “Be Sure You Follow the Right King.” There are always Herods and the person fulfilling that role on January 6, 2021 was none other than President Donald Trump. Just as Herod told the Magi to go find the Christ child so he could go worship him too, our 45th President urged his angry followers to march to the Capitol and stop his Vice President from fulfilling his Constitutional duty to certify the legitimate electoral colleges votes from the 2020 election.

Three long years later we are still dealing with the fallout from that awful day, and I must admit I am often very discouraged about that and what it means for the future of our nation. But here’s my takeaway from this Epiphany 2024 message from Matthew. I can’t say it any better than Maltbie Babcock said it in 1901 in his great hymn, “This is My Father’s World;” so I will just end here with the third verse of that hymn:

“This is my Father’s world:
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
Why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King: let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad!”

Renaming the YMCA?

One of the few benefits I’ve found of being old is a feature that comes with many Medicare Advantage plans. Silver Sneakers is a program that pays for access to many gyms and exercise facilities as part of one’s health insurance after the age of 65. Insurance companies benefit because people who exercise are healthier and have fewer claims for medical bills from their insurance. And, of course, having access to places to work out benefits senior citizens.

My wife and I have enjoyed Silver Sneakers since we went on Medicare 12 years ago. We are fortunate that with Silver Sneakers we can use 4 different YMCA’s and another gym that are all within 15 miles of our home, and we often decide which one to use depending on what errands or other trips we need to make on a given day. We’ve even been able to use our Silver Sneakers membership to workout when we are traveling.

Having said that I want to give a shout out to my favorite place to workout. My go to exercise since I had back surgery two years ago has been to swim, and my favorite pool is at one of our local Y’s in the nearby suburb of Hilliard, Ohio. It has become my favorite because of very friendly staff who call me by name and make me feel very welcome whenever I walk in. I also like the temperature of the water in their pool, about 82 degrees. But there’s something else I have come to appreciate very much about our Y, and that is the diversity of the staff and those who use that facility.

On any given day at the Y I see several people of different ethnicities. There are Asian Americans, African Americans, Muslim women in hijabs and some in berkas, either working at the front desk or often using the pool by themselves or with their children. The first time I saw two of these women get in the pool fully clothed in berkas and hijabs I must admit I was a bit taken aback. But it has become a common sight now. Recently a new sign was put up by the deep end of the pool warning of the danger for those who can’t yet swim. What struck me about that sign is that it is written in four different languages.

During the recent holiday season I was also pleased to notice that in addition to a Christmas tree in the lobby area there was a Menorah on the counter where members check in. I like the diversity and inclusive message all those things communicate. But here’s the irony in all that. YMCA originally stood for “Young Men’s Christian Association,” but it has obviously outgrown that name. Many of us who workout there are certainly not young, more than half I see are not men, and as I’ve demonstrated above the membership at our Y is certainly much broader than “Christian.”

I’m not proposing a name change. I happen to enjoy singing the YMCA song. I just find the diversity there a bit of good news in a world that needs all of the positivity we can get. So my hat is off to the Hilliard Y and all who help create the hospitality and inclusivity it represents.

It’s fun to play at the YMCA!

Lighting of the Christ Candle 2023

December nights are the longest and darkest of the year in our part of the world.  It is a good night to light candles.  Tonight the waiting and hoping of Advent gives way to the celebration of a miracle birth.  It happened over 2000 years ago, but we still marvel at the simplicity and mystery it has held for believers throughout the ages. 

Christmas is more than just a miracle birth story. 

It is about the birth of hope, [light one candle]

And Peace [light 2nd candle],

And Joy [light 3rd candle],

And Love  [light 4th candle].

These four candles stand in a circle that, like God’s love, has no beginning and no end.  Now on this Holy night we light the tallest and brightest candle, the Christ candle, to celebrate the wonderful birth of our Savior and Messiah.  

[Light the Christ Candle]

The Christ Candle is not like those we put on our birthday cakes.  We do not blow this candle out.  Instead from it we will light our own candles to symbolize the light of the world that glows in the hearts of all who follow Jesus.  

Some may ask why we light candles when the darkness is so deep.  Can our tiny flames really make a difference?  Hear this response from theologian Howard Thurman:

“I will light Candles this Christmas,

Candles of Joy despite all the sadness. 

Candles of hope where despair keeps watch. 

Candles of courage for fears ever present,

Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days,

Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens,

Candles of love to inspire all my living,

Candles that will burn all year long.”

Please pray with me:  O Holy One, rekindle that kind of flame in each of us, the kind that burns all year long. We light candles because we can and we must.  Christ came to teach us we are the light of the world, and to honor this Holy infant, our savior, we hold our candles high to witness to the world that the forces of darkness will not prevail.  For this very night in 2023 a Savior is born again wherever meek souls will receive him.  Come, Lord Jesus, come; we pray in your Holy name, Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, OH; December 24, 2023

Advent 4, 2023: Love

We have made our way this Advent from prophesy and promise to stand now on the cusp of fulfillment.  This very night we will celebrate again the birth of love incarnate in the form of a helpless infant.  Like that baby, love is vulnerable.  Both require careful nurture and handling.  Love is a gift entrusted to common people like Mary and Joseph, like you and me.  Of all the gifts we may give or receive this week, none is more precious than the simple gift of love.  That is what inspired St. Paul to write: “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

God’s love is a spirit that requires embodiment to become real.  God’s love must become flesh to dwell among us.  At Bethlehem that love came to life in the infant Jesus.  Today, if we are open to the mystery, it can come to life in you and me as the church, the body of Christ.  We can be the light of the world because of Christmas. So today we live between the warm feeling of God’s love and the choice to put that sentiment into concrete action.   We humbly receive God’s most precious gift as we light the 4th candle of Advent, the Candle of Love. 

[Light the 4th Candle]

Please pray with me as I share this Advent prayer from Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie from their book, “The Lives We Actually Have:”

God, we are waiting for love,

not the simple kind or the sweep-you-off-your-feet kind,

but the absurd kind.

The kind wrapped in rags, resting in a bucket of animal feed.

Love enough to save us all.

Blessed are we who look for Love,

deeper, fuller, truer—than we have ever known,

than we could have ever hoped for.

Blessed are we who seek you,

the light that dawned so long ago in that dark stable.

Love given.                                                    

Love received.

Dear God, Hold us in that love these last few hours of Advent till that love is born again in our hearts this very night. Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, OH; December 24, 2023

Advent 3, 2023: Joy

“Joy to the world!”  It is so easy to sing those familiar words but so much harder to feel truly joyful.  Our world is so full of discord.  We live in the tension between joy and sadness.  Our emotions ricochet from merriment to melancholy in the blink of an eye depending on what thought or memory is currently playing on the screen in our minds.  We bounce from tears of joy to pangs of grief at unexpected moments. 

Yes, life is messy, but in the midst of it all we still pause to light a candle of Joy, the third candle of Advent.  In word and the magic of music we dare to proclaim a message of Hope, Peace and Joy to a weary world starving for the Good News that God is still with us. 

[Light 3rd Candle]

Please pray with me:

Dear God, remind us again that Jesus didn’t come into a Hallmark Christmas world, but a messy one where Herod killed babies and the Holy family became refugees.  Assure us again today that we can find a source of deep joy in this dark, cold season because the everlasting message of Christmas is that you are always with us, in the best of times and the worst of times, the happy and the horrible; and everything in between. 

We pray that this Advent season will prepare us for living between a promise and the coming of God’s kingdom, between corruption and justice for all; so that our tears will turn to rejoicing and our souls and our lives will magnify the Lord in all we think, say, and do.  Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, OH,

2nd Sunday of Advent 2023

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Ever since the angels proclaimed their message of “peace on earth” to the shepherds of Bethlehem our weary world has lived between that promise of peace and humankind’s warring madness.  It seems we have waited so very long for peace. Our patience wears thin and our hope is challenged, but we are reminded by Scripture that “our time is not God’s time.”  Our perspective is limited and brief, but God’s is infinite and eternal. 

Being patient while we wait is so hard for us finite humans.  2000 years since Jesus’ birth we are still longing for fulfillment of God’s promise, even as we prepare our hearts again for the miracle of Christmas.   We give thanks for God’s grace and patience with all of His fallible children.  We humans still live caught between peace on one hand and fear on the other because of our own love of power and our human weaknesses. 

But even if it seems foolish by the world’s standards, here and now today we still dare to light this candle of peace, the second candle of Advent.  This candle is far more than wax and a wick; it is a witness to the world that God’s promise of a peace that surpasses all understanding is still trustworthy and true. 

[Light candle]

Please pray with me as I share this prayer from Kate Bowler and Jessica Ritchie, from their book, “The Lives We Actually Have:”

Come, Lord, that we might see you, move with you, keep pace with you.

Blessed are we who ask that this Advent          

we might dwell together quietly in our homes.

Come, Lord, that we might be for others the peace they cannot find.

Blessed are we who look to you and say, God, truly, we are troubled and afraid.

Come govern our hearts and calm our fears.

Oh Prince of Peace, still our restless selves, calm our anxious hearts,

quiet our busy minds.

Hear our prayers O Holy One, which we offer in the name of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace.  Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, OH, December 10, 2023

An Eye for An Eye?

Ever since October 7 I have been pondering the irony of the Israeli response to the horrific massacre of 1200 Israelis by Hamas.  One of the most familiar tenets of the Hebrew law found in Leviticus says, “Anyone who maims another shall suffer the same injury in return: fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth; the injury inflicted is the injury to be suffered.” (24:19-20). I learned two things about that Scripture in seminary: 1) It is very similar to another ancient law, The Code of Hammurabi, a Babylonian King in the 1700’s BCE, and 2) both the Code of Hammurabi and the Hebrew law were meant not to justify revenge but to limit the amount of revenge one could seek for an offense to an equitable amount.  So, for example, if someone poked out one of my eyes I could not in return poke out both of his or hers. 

Jesus came along 3000 years after Hammurabi and 1400 years after Moses and raised the bar to a whole new level in the Sermon on the Mount where he says, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also,and if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, give your coat as well,and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.Give to the one who asks of you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” (Matthew 5:38-43).

Now, I’m not expecting the Israelis to live up to Jesus’ ethics.  I can’t, and I’m not sure anyone but Jesus could ever do that.  But it seems like not killing your enemy’s innocent women and children might be a start.  And it does seem fair to hold the Israelis to their own Scriptural standards.  At last count the Israelis have killed 16000 Palestinians in Gaza.   That’s more than 10 for every Israeli killed on 10/7.  That’s a lot more than “an eye for an eye.”

I understand the horror of that dark day.  No, I don’t.  Thank God, I have never experienced anything like it.  I was even far removed from any personal suffering on 9/11.  So, I know I have no right to judge.  I don’t know what I would do in the Israeli shoes.  Nor do I have any idea how I would survive the God awful inhumane conditions the people of Gaza have been living under for the last 60 days.  I just know the insane suffering I see on my TV screen has got to stop.  Not just because it is morally unjustifiable but mostly because it is just plain counterproductive.

War and killing have never solved anything.  If the Israelis could actually eliminate Hamas and terrorism by use of force there might be an argument for their military campaign.  But it won’t work.  The anger being fanned in the Muslim world by the war in Gaza will produce far more terrorists can ever kill.  If history has taught us anything it is that revenge only begets more violence in return.  That’s the point of Jesus’ teaching above about turning the other cheek.  To resist the natural human urge to strike back in anger, as impossible as that seems, is the only way the cycle of violence can ever be stopped in its tracks. 

As progressive as it was in the days of Hammurabi, as Gandhi once pointed out, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth just creates a world of blind, toothless people.”

I know that too criticize Israel opens me to charges of antisemitism, but I assure you I am not anti-Semitic.  I am a Christian nurtured in the Judeo-Christian tradition.  Jesus was a Jew.  I am constantly challenged and inspired by the Hebrew prophets.  I grieve for the hostages still in captivity, for the suffering of the Jewish people throughout history and on 10/7, but the killing needs to stop; the suffering of the people of Gaza must stop. 

December 5, 2023

Advent I 2023: Hope

Today is the first Sunday in the season of Advent.  It is a time of preparing our hearts to receive once more God’s promise of healing for our broken world.  Advent is a season of waiting and hoping for what is already but not yet.  It is a time of living in between – between promise and fulfillment, between hope for and receiving.  

This Advent it is harder than usual to be people of hope. The skies over the Holy Land are full of rockets and bombs instead of an angel chorus. We live between Christmas carols on the airways and horrific images of war on our news feeds.

But here, even in this time between hope and despair, we gather to reaffirm our faith in the eternal light that cannot be extinguished by any amount of human sin and suffering. As people of faith have done for hundreds of years we claim the gift of hope once more by lighting the first candle of Advent.

[Light Candle]

Please pray with me as I share this Advent prayer from Kate Bowler and Jessica Ritchie, from their book, “The Lives We Actually Have:”

“God, these are darkening days, with little hope in sight.

Help us in our fear and exhaustion. Anchor us in hope.  Bless us who cry out: ‘Oh God, why does the bad always seem to win?

When will good prevail?

We know you are good, but we see so little goodness.’

God, show us your heart, how you seek out the broken.

Lift us on your shoulders and carry us home—no matter how strong we think we are.

God, seek us out, and find us, we your tired people, and lead us out to where hope lies. where your kingdom will come and your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Fill us with your courage. Calm us with your love. Fortify us with your hope.”

We pray in the name of the One we Hope for who already walks with us every day. Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, Ohio, December 3, 2023

Help from Our Friends

“Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay.” (Mark 2:3-4)

I had a very humbling experience last week that reminded me of the story from Mark’s Gospel about the paralyzed man brought to Jesus in a most unusual way. All three other Gospels contain a similar story where someone is carried to Jesus for healing, but only Mark has this most dramatic detail about the man’s friends being so committed and creative that they lowered him down to Jesus through a hole they dug in the roof.

Wouldn’t you love to hear the insurance adjuster’s response when the homeowner explains the hole in the roof with this story? My experience last week was far less dramatic but still very emotional for me.

The back story, no pun intended, is that because of chronic back pain and peripheral neuropathy I sometimes have a difficult time walking any distance. This is especially true after I’ve been sitting in a confined space, like an airplane seat, for any extended period of time. Last Wednesday my wife and I flew from Columbus, Ohio to Houston, Texas to visit family for the Thanksgiving holiday. The flight was delayed for 30-40 minutes while we sat on the tarmac in Columbus waiting for the pilots to arrive on another delayed flight from Houston. That made the total time on the plane around 3 hours.

Upon arriving at the Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston we had a long walk (and a train ride) from Terminal E to baggage claim in Terminal C, and I was struggling to get there pulling a carry on and wearing a backpack. My dear wife offered to help with my luggage, but she already had plenty of her own; and I stubbornly kept pushing on.

By the time we got to Terminal C I was really tired and unsure how much further we had to go. We stopped to ask for directions from an airport employee who just happened to have an empty wheelchair, and he graciously offered me a ride. He was a life saver, and I was very grateful for his help. He not only pushed me to baggage claim, he took our claim tickets and got our luggage for us and then took us another good distance to where we could catch a shuttle to the car rental center. He even loaded our suitcases on the shuttle bus for us.

But here’s my problem. While I was very grateful for the assistance we received, I still felt helpless and frustrated that I needed that kind of help. I have not come close to mastering St. Paul’s advice in Philippians 4 to ”be content in whatever state I’m in.” I am reminded every time I look in the mirror that I am 77 years old, and if I forget, my aches and pains remind me of that fact; but I still try to deny it.

So I wonder how the paralytic man in the Gospel stories felt about his situation. We aren’t told why or how long he has been paralyzed. We don’t know if he asked these friends to take him to Jesus or if it was their idea. We don’t know how he felt about being carried up on the roof. That had to be little scary for him!

The truth is the story really isn’t about the paralytic, just as my wheelchair ride wasn’t really about me. The Gospel story is primarily about Jesus, and my story if I step back from my own pity party is really about the kind man who helped us. Yes, he was doing a job he is paid to do, but he did it with such kindness and grace that it was obviously more than just a job.

And Mark’s point in sharing this story in just the second chapter of his Gospel is not primarily about the paralytic but about the healing power of God and who Jesus is. We need to read the first chapter of Mark to realize how central that fact is. Mark wastes no time getting to the radical ministry of Jesus. In the very first chapter he includes four specific healing stories, including Simon’s mother-in-law, casting out many demons, a man with an unclean spirit, and a leper. He goes “throughout all Galilee,” and even though he tells them all not to tell about their healing by the time he returns to Capernaum even though there was no social media to promote his good works Mark tells us “the whole city” is crowding around to get to Jesus. He’s a bigger celeb than Taylor Swift.

But here’s the thing about the story in Mark 2; it’s not just another healing story. For the first time Mark tells us Jesus dares to forgive the paralytic’s sins, and that of course ticks off the Scribes who are nearby and take offense that Jesus dares to claim such divine authority. I love Jesus’ response to the Scribes. He basically says, “OK, to show you my power, how about I just say to the man ‘take up your bed and go home?’” Which of course the miraculously healed man does, and the crowd is amazed because “we have never seen anything like this.”

As I was thinking about all of this I came across this picture of Pope Francis, and it hit me again. My story like the paralytic’s story are not about the helpees but the Helper. If a great man like Pope Francis can accept the help of others who am I to think I am somehow better than that. The truth is we are all dependent on the help of others. It may be emotional support or sometimes physically taking us to the spiritual or physical help we need. It may be realizing we are dependent on the farmers, truckers, and grocers who get food on the shelf for us to purchase.

The secret to it all is being humble enough to recognize and ask for whatever help we happen to need at any given point in life. We all come into this life totally dependent on others to nurture, protect, and care for our needs for several years, and the cycle of life means that most of us will end up pretty much in the same need for caregivers at the end of this life. Our choice is how humbly and graciously we accept that care.

Where’s the Justice?

Election Day, praying for my tribe to win as much as possible even as I fear the dangerous person just elected Speaker of the House and the Trump circus in a New York court room. Trump has succeeded in taking the media spotlight off the mayhem in Gaza, but the slaughter continues there and elsewhere. A mass shooting in Cincinnati recently barely made the news.

We are having new skylights installed today while millions of people have no roof over their head at all. Where is the justice?

My privilege feels like a millstone tied around my neck, even while I resent working for hours on end the last two days to maintain our wonderful home.

I get wonderful medical care for my puny aches and pains while hospitals are bombed in Gaza. Where’s the justice?

I simply turn the tap and open the fridge whenever I thirst or hunger while millions of climate refugees and war victims around the world are starving and dying. Where’s the justice?

By accident of birth I am a privileged white male in a relatively safe and prosperous nation. My ease and comfort are as undeserved as the suffering of innocent Israelis and Palestinians and Ukrainians is unjustified. Where’s the justice?

If I thank God for providing so bountifully for me and my tribe anyone can see the irony that all these others of God’s children who pray to the same God still suffer so horribly. I am not some worthy saint being rewarded for my good behavior like a school boy getting gold stars for what we used to call “deportment.” If I am graded on keeping the 10 commandments or living by the Boy Scout Law I learned as a youth you better believe I hope God grades on the curve. Where’s the justice?

As we Christians paused ever so briefly this week to observe All Saints Day our grief and memories of those who have passed beyond this mortal coil are tied to the deaths of all those unknown to us but known to God souls lost in recent days to the madness of war. Nadia Bolz-Weber said it so well in her sermon for Sunday, “You’re going to die:”

“The untimely and unnecessary deaths of 10,000 children of God, many of whom are actual children, in just that one tiny area of our planet in one month’s time ripples out into an ocean of grief for the 100,000s of thousands who know their names…their babies, and brothers and wives and friends.

This is their day too.

So as we remember our own dead, may we feel connected to the sorrow of those who are also grieving today. And say as our lord did, Blessed are they who mourn. Blessed are they who have loved enough to know what loss feels like.”

I had never thought about grief as a blessing even though I have read those words from the Beatitudes dozens of times. “Blessed are those who mourn.” My thoughts always jump to the second half of that verse “for they shall be comforted.” Yes, we yearn for our own comfort and those of others. But there is no comfort without grief, just as there is no resurrection without death. So in one of those theological twists of fate there is gratitude even for pain. If we could not feel the pain of grief, even for people 10,000 miles away, we also could not feel love and appreciation for our privilege.

I do not deserve my comfortable life any more than the trapped citizens of Gaza deserve the horrors of modern warfare, any more than the 1400 Israelis deserved to die on October 7, or the 6,000,000 Jewish victims of the Holocaust, or the 3000 Americans deserved to die on 9/11. All of that reminds me that life itself is a privilege to be cherished and lived to its fullest no matter where we have landed by accident of birth on this fragile planet.

May our gratitude for what is take the wings of mercy to act as those who do justice here and now, who love mercy wherever we are planted, and through it all walk humbly and gratefully with the One who gives it all and who alone can fathom the mystery of life and death in our broken and unjust world.