The Scripture readings can be found on the Lectionary Page.
Sermon for Epiphany 2 ~ Lectionary Year A ~ January 15, 2023
In today’s Gospel from John, Jesus is someone new up to something new. His cousin, John, is known to the world but Jesus isn’t – at least not yet. (The John I refer to in most of this sermon is John the Baptist rather than John the credited author of the Gospel text, unless otherwise specified.) Today, the gospel author’s audience meets Jesus for the very first time. John makes the introduction. While it’s clear that Jesus is someone important, exactly who He is remains very unclear. John proclaims Him, “the lamb who takes away the sin of the world…I saw the Spirit descend like a dove, and remain on him.” What does this say about who Jesus was? Why is it important?
The first part of John ’s introduction – that Jesus is “the lamb” – sounds strange to my ears. It may have sounded strange to ancient Jewish ears as well. Commentators still debate its meaning. We project the end of the story (and the theology subsequently formed from it) back onto its beginning. But – it’s unlikely the gospel’s first hearers understood it the same way. They didn’t have the same history with the story – and its ending – as we do. It’s possible the Baptizer, as a religious teacher, was referring to a passage from his own holy scripture. But which passage he refers to is not clear. The lamb of the Exodus sojourn out of Egypt, the one sacrificed the same night the plague struck the Egyptian firstborns, is a common guess. But nothing in the Exodus text suggests that lamb was meant to atone for sin – which is precisely what the Baptizer implies.
The Baptizer’s proclamation that Jesus was a symbolic atoning “lamb” may have been just as confusing to those who first heard the Baptizer’s proclamation. Maybe God was up to something new through this Jesus – or maybe the Baptizer was just talking crazy. After all, he was known for pushing the envelope. Who was this Jesus character, and why should we pay him any heed? Who He is remains – at least at this point in the story – a mystery.
The Baptizer’s retelling of what he saw at the River Jordan piques my interest a bit more. I wonder if it didn’t pique the interest of those who first heard the tale as well. Its implications were a bit clearer in the context of the religious landscape at the time. Such a visible return of the spirit often happened after a “dry spell,” when the voice of God heard through the prophets had become a whisper or even silent, maybe for many years, perhaps even for generations. In the shadow of the Roman Empire, I imagine the Jewish people felt that God was very distant, unconcerned with their suffering. There was something about the appearance of Jesus – at least for some – that changed all that. Enough that they dropped everything to follow Him to places unknown. While it took courage for those first men and women to follow Jesus, I suspect it took Jesus even more courage to take those very first steps away from the stability of home to places unfamiliar, perhaps even dangerous. In short order it would become apparent that God was, through Jesus, up to something very new. At this point in the story, the disciples don’t fully understand who Jesus is. But they can see God is up to something – something they want to be a part of. They decide this Jesus character was a mystery worth following!
Reflecting on this passage has set me to wondering…how would we react if we were to meet Jesus again for the first time? How might we experience hearing the stories – and their inherent call – as if hearing them anew? What if we focused more on how Jesus lived His life and how He cared for the most vulnerable in His orbit, and less on whether those around us have a perfect Christology (in other words, one that agrees with ours)? What if we focused more on how we treat one another? How far will we go to fulfill that ancient yet ever present call to love others as deeply as God loves us?
God is ever up to something new. The prophetic voice may be quieter, drowned out by our smartphones and smart TVs and podcasts and the twenty-four hour news cycle. But it’s still present, ever whispering challenge and hope into the world. Will our eyes and ears be open enough to see it, to fully experience it, to take the risk of embracing the call to love without prejudice? Will we, like the man we follow, be willing to give up everything comfortable and known to live fully into that call?
~the Rev. Erin Rath
The first part of John ’s introduction – that Jesus is “the lamb” – sounds strange to my ears. It may have sounded strange to ancient Jewish ears as well. Commentators still debate its meaning. We project the end of the story (and the theology subsequently formed from it) back onto its beginning. But – it’s unlikely the gospel’s first hearers understood it the same way. They didn’t have the same history with the story – and its ending – as we do. It’s possible the Baptizer, as a religious teacher, was referring to a passage from his own holy scripture. But which passage he refers to is not clear. The lamb of the Exodus sojourn out of Egypt, the one sacrificed the same night the plague struck the Egyptian firstborns, is a common guess. But nothing in the Exodus text suggests that lamb was meant to atone for sin – which is precisely what the Baptizer implies.
The Baptizer’s proclamation that Jesus was a symbolic atoning “lamb” may have been just as confusing to those who first heard the Baptizer’s proclamation. Maybe God was up to something new through this Jesus – or maybe the Baptizer was just talking crazy. After all, he was known for pushing the envelope. Who was this Jesus character, and why should we pay him any heed? Who He is remains – at least at this point in the story – a mystery.
The Baptizer’s retelling of what he saw at the River Jordan piques my interest a bit more. I wonder if it didn’t pique the interest of those who first heard the tale as well. Its implications were a bit clearer in the context of the religious landscape at the time. Such a visible return of the spirit often happened after a “dry spell,” when the voice of God heard through the prophets had become a whisper or even silent, maybe for many years, perhaps even for generations. In the shadow of the Roman Empire, I imagine the Jewish people felt that God was very distant, unconcerned with their suffering. There was something about the appearance of Jesus – at least for some – that changed all that. Enough that they dropped everything to follow Him to places unknown. While it took courage for those first men and women to follow Jesus, I suspect it took Jesus even more courage to take those very first steps away from the stability of home to places unfamiliar, perhaps even dangerous. In short order it would become apparent that God was, through Jesus, up to something very new. At this point in the story, the disciples don’t fully understand who Jesus is. But they can see God is up to something – something they want to be a part of. They decide this Jesus character was a mystery worth following!
Reflecting on this passage has set me to wondering…how would we react if we were to meet Jesus again for the first time? How might we experience hearing the stories – and their inherent call – as if hearing them anew? What if we focused more on how Jesus lived His life and how He cared for the most vulnerable in His orbit, and less on whether those around us have a perfect Christology (in other words, one that agrees with ours)? What if we focused more on how we treat one another? How far will we go to fulfill that ancient yet ever present call to love others as deeply as God loves us?
God is ever up to something new. The prophetic voice may be quieter, drowned out by our smartphones and smart TVs and podcasts and the twenty-four hour news cycle. But it’s still present, ever whispering challenge and hope into the world. Will our eyes and ears be open enough to see it, to fully experience it, to take the risk of embracing the call to love without prejudice? Will we, like the man we follow, be willing to give up everything comfortable and known to live fully into that call?
~the Rev. Erin Rath
Sermon for Epiphany 1 ~ Lectionary Year A ~ January 8, 2023
Peter began to speak to them: “I now truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears God and does what is right is acceptable to Him.”
Here begins the speech which is the culmination of Acts’ first half, the retelling of the apostles’ work in Jerusalem and the surrounding region. Peter’s words are a pillar of our faith – and among the boldest words in our history.
The Holy Spirit was already in action in the days leading up to Peter’s powerful words. First, there was the nudge to Cornelius, a man in the employ of the Roman enemy. In a turn of events rare to the Hebrew Scriptures, this outsider to the faith not only hears the Divine call – but responds. Hours later, as Cornelius’ men approach the city where Peter is staying, that same Spirit grants Peter a vision. At first, he’s confused by its bizarreness. All his life, Peter carefully followed the rules of his faith. Now, the Spirit presents a vision telling him to break the very rules he held so dear. Then, without further explanation, that same Spirit commands Peter to return with the men Cornelius sent. But Peter isn’t supposed to interact with such outsiders! Once again, without explanation, the Spirit calls him to break the very rules he treasures as the voice of God. And once again, the Spirit’s command is as clear as the headwaters of the Jordan. Everything about the events is incredibly counterintuitive. Yet, against Peter’s better judgment, he obeys. The more the story progresses, the more deeply woven Divine Intervention becomes. The mystery deepens. What on earth is God up to?
By the time he arrives at Cornelius’ home, Peter understands. The vision of the unclean animals on the lowered sheet – given three times, so the critically important message is understood – is both literal and allegorical. The vision applies to two rules once thought foundational: the dietary laws and the laws of purity which forbade contact with outsiders. The old restrictions on food and people have been lifted. The way of faith has been opened to all who believe in and proclaim Christ. His unbidden, free Love for all, even and especially the outcast, is now available to all people, regardless of ethnicity or faith tradition or anything else.
So…what about the lost, broken world in which we live? Is it possible for the Spirit to intervene in such a mighty and astonishing fashion? I dare to think so…and pray we have the courage to make it possible. What would our churches and communities look like if we loved as freely and impartially as Jesus did? If we loved even those we don’t understand. If we showed a radically complete lack of partiality, just as God called the apostles of the nascent church to do. If we loved regardless of age, gender (traditional or transgender), education, monetary wealth, sexual orientation, political party or any other mark of division in human society.
It’s as counterintuitive as it gets…but it’s the call Jesus makes to us in every generation. If we but had the courage and boldness to make it possible…with the Spirit’s help, what a world of Love it could be.
~the Rev. Erin Rath
Here begins the speech which is the culmination of Acts’ first half, the retelling of the apostles’ work in Jerusalem and the surrounding region. Peter’s words are a pillar of our faith – and among the boldest words in our history.
The Holy Spirit was already in action in the days leading up to Peter’s powerful words. First, there was the nudge to Cornelius, a man in the employ of the Roman enemy. In a turn of events rare to the Hebrew Scriptures, this outsider to the faith not only hears the Divine call – but responds. Hours later, as Cornelius’ men approach the city where Peter is staying, that same Spirit grants Peter a vision. At first, he’s confused by its bizarreness. All his life, Peter carefully followed the rules of his faith. Now, the Spirit presents a vision telling him to break the very rules he held so dear. Then, without further explanation, that same Spirit commands Peter to return with the men Cornelius sent. But Peter isn’t supposed to interact with such outsiders! Once again, without explanation, the Spirit calls him to break the very rules he treasures as the voice of God. And once again, the Spirit’s command is as clear as the headwaters of the Jordan. Everything about the events is incredibly counterintuitive. Yet, against Peter’s better judgment, he obeys. The more the story progresses, the more deeply woven Divine Intervention becomes. The mystery deepens. What on earth is God up to?
By the time he arrives at Cornelius’ home, Peter understands. The vision of the unclean animals on the lowered sheet – given three times, so the critically important message is understood – is both literal and allegorical. The vision applies to two rules once thought foundational: the dietary laws and the laws of purity which forbade contact with outsiders. The old restrictions on food and people have been lifted. The way of faith has been opened to all who believe in and proclaim Christ. His unbidden, free Love for all, even and especially the outcast, is now available to all people, regardless of ethnicity or faith tradition or anything else.
So…what about the lost, broken world in which we live? Is it possible for the Spirit to intervene in such a mighty and astonishing fashion? I dare to think so…and pray we have the courage to make it possible. What would our churches and communities look like if we loved as freely and impartially as Jesus did? If we loved even those we don’t understand. If we showed a radically complete lack of partiality, just as God called the apostles of the nascent church to do. If we loved regardless of age, gender (traditional or transgender), education, monetary wealth, sexual orientation, political party or any other mark of division in human society.
It’s as counterintuitive as it gets…but it’s the call Jesus makes to us in every generation. If we but had the courage and boldness to make it possible…with the Spirit’s help, what a world of Love it could be.
~the Rev. Erin Rath
Sermon for Christmas 1 ~ The Holy Name ~ Lectionary Year A ~ January 1, 2023
Our celebration of the season of light continues on this much quieter weekend of the Christmas season. The presents are unwrapped. The sweaters that didn’t fit have been returned. The outdoor lights have been unplugged. The Christmas themed-garlands have been returned to storage. In most houses, the Christmas tree has been disassembled and hauled to the curb or returned to storage. (Though in our house, the tree goes up late in Advent and stays up a few weeks beyond the wise men’s arrival at the manger – both on principle, so we more closely match the liturgical year, and because it’s a favorite cat cave.) We tried to live into the true meaning of Christmas. We strove to give more than we received. We spent time with family. Many of us traveled to do so. The busyness of the season has passed – finally! A number of us – particularly those who hosted – took our first deep breath in several weeks on December 26.
Did you notice I still use the phrase, “the Christmas season?” You did hear me correctly. In the church (at least the liturgical traditions I know of), the Christmas season begins not at Thanksgiving but on Christmas Eve, and ends only with the arrival of the wise men on January 6. Though our culture has closed the book on this year’s season of Christmas, we in the church continue to celebrate.
In thinking of the “true” meaning of Christmas, the phrase, “the reason for the season” comes to my mind. We hear it often in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Without saying it, we know that “reason” is Jesus. This phrase is meant to encourage a number of things. The primary encouragement is a shift in focus: it calls us to focus less on the commercialism of the season, and more on the faith which started that season in the first place. It’s a call which is difficult to follow, unless one chooses not to use the internet or turn on the television between Halloween and December 26. It’s a call to focus on giving rather than receiving. It’s a call to value people over material possessions. It’s a call to put our trust in God rather than the comforts of material wealth. It’s a call to serve those in need, even when it may not be convenient or comfortable to do so. It’s a challenging call – but by no means impossible.
The phrase “the reason for the season” is short, and one our culture uses only during the season it views as Christmas – during the few weeks leading up to December 25. Church tradition bucks the culture’s position. We wait through the season of Advent, anticipating the light. But we wait to celebrate that light until Christmas arrives. That celebration continues with Epiphany and the weeks beyond, when we remember the first time those outside Jesus’ faith tradition discovered that light.
Both within the church walls and beyond, the light of Christ shapes the season of Christmas. How might we carry that light with and around us beyond the boundaries of the season, into the rest of the year and the world around us?
~the Rev. Erin Rath
Did you notice I still use the phrase, “the Christmas season?” You did hear me correctly. In the church (at least the liturgical traditions I know of), the Christmas season begins not at Thanksgiving but on Christmas Eve, and ends only with the arrival of the wise men on January 6. Though our culture has closed the book on this year’s season of Christmas, we in the church continue to celebrate.
In thinking of the “true” meaning of Christmas, the phrase, “the reason for the season” comes to my mind. We hear it often in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Without saying it, we know that “reason” is Jesus. This phrase is meant to encourage a number of things. The primary encouragement is a shift in focus: it calls us to focus less on the commercialism of the season, and more on the faith which started that season in the first place. It’s a call which is difficult to follow, unless one chooses not to use the internet or turn on the television between Halloween and December 26. It’s a call to focus on giving rather than receiving. It’s a call to value people over material possessions. It’s a call to put our trust in God rather than the comforts of material wealth. It’s a call to serve those in need, even when it may not be convenient or comfortable to do so. It’s a challenging call – but by no means impossible.
The phrase “the reason for the season” is short, and one our culture uses only during the season it views as Christmas – during the few weeks leading up to December 25. Church tradition bucks the culture’s position. We wait through the season of Advent, anticipating the light. But we wait to celebrate that light until Christmas arrives. That celebration continues with Epiphany and the weeks beyond, when we remember the first time those outside Jesus’ faith tradition discovered that light.
Both within the church walls and beyond, the light of Christ shapes the season of Christmas. How might we carry that light with and around us beyond the boundaries of the season, into the rest of the year and the world around us?
~the Rev. Erin Rath