Baptism of Our Lord - January 11, 2009

God Claims Jesus (and us) FOREVER!
Mark 1:4-11
Baptism of Our Lord – January 11, 2009

On Christmas Day, Andy & I went to see Marley & Me. If you've seen it, or even if you've just seen the commercials, you know that Marley was the world's worst dog. Maybe his owners should have suspected something when the breeder put Marley on clearance, telling them that they could have him for much less the other dogs. But it wasn't long before they found out what a handful Marley was. The movie chronicles their life together as people and pet, showing all of Marley's misadventures – from his huge appetite for food and drywall and jewelry to his terrorizing of the dog trainer and dog sitter to his unauthorized romps through houses and yards and parks. Hardly a day went by when Marley didn't get into some kind of trouble, usually big trouble.

Well, one day, Marley and Josh (the “me” in Marley & Me) go to the beach. Josh had been warned long ago to keep his dog under control there, because people were just looking for a reason to get rid of the dog beach. “Don't ruin it for everybody else,” the guy said. And so every time they went, Josh kept Marley on the leash, kept a watchful eye on him, kept him under control. But on this day, Josh decides to let Marley off the leash. And it was a beautiful scene. Marley goes tearing off into the water, leaping and bounding in his release from the leash that had held him back for so long. Inspired by Marley's obvious happiness, the other owners set their dogs loose too, and for a few brief moments, we revel in the sheer unadulterated joy of dogs set free to be what they were created to be, swimming and running and playing, given new life there in the water.

But -- all good things must come to an end, and of course, it's Marley who has to ruin the fun for everyone else. If you've seen the movie, you know what happens, and if you haven't, well, I'll leave it up to your imagination. Let's just say he's back to his old tricks again, and Josh & Marley leave in shame, with Josh hopelessly reminding Marley that he really is the world's worst dog. And with all the things Marley puts this family through, you start to wonder why it is this family didn't just get rid of Marley a long time ago. It sure would've made life easier!

So why am I telling you this story? It's not just because it's a good movie, it's because it reminded me of the story Mark tells in the gospel we heard this morning. The people he tells us about, the ones from Jerusalem and the surrounding countryside? They were kinda like Marley. They just kept getting themselves into trouble. Their lives were just one misadventure after another. Their sins had piled up and piled up, until they knew that they, like Marley, were the worst dogs ever. Or even if they weren't quite the worst they were at least in the running for the top five. Unlike Marley though, they knew something had to change.

And then John the baptizer appears in the wilderness. He comes into their lives calling them to repent, offering them a chance to start over, reminding them that old dogs can learn new tricks. And so they come to the river, plunging in, confessing their sins, and letting the water wash over them, knowing that their sins are being washed away with it. For those few moments as they are baptized in the river, they are released from the hold sin has on their lives. They, like those dogs, were set free in that water, set free to be who they were meant to be. Can you see them rejoicing there in the water, splashing around, knowing that they have been given new life there?

But -- all good things must come to an end. There in the river, they know that they have been forgiven, but they know it won't be long before they mess up again. And what happens then? What happens to that promise of forgiveness when they sin again? What happens when they leave the water and find themselves back in the real world, just the world's worst dogs up to their same old tricks?

It's a good question. Have you ever wondered about it? Week after week, we come here to this place, and we hear John the Baptist's voice echoing in the call to repent, to confess our sins in the presence of God and of one another. We find ourselves drawn back to the waters of baptism, knowing our need to confess, and hearing the promise of forgiveness. And we rejoice in those moments, knowing that God has set us free from the hold sin has on us. We celebrate that new life that only God can give through the waters of baptism, and we want to stay and play awhile, splashing around in that water, knowing that here, at last, we can be the people God has created us to be.

But -- all good things must come to an end, and as soon as we confess, we're back at it again, the same old dogs up to the same old tricks. And what happens then? What difference does baptism make if we're just gonna fall prey to the same old pattern of sin (in its many and various forms) over and over again? How can God keep forgiving us, how can God keep forgiving everyone else over and over again? What is God gonna do with us when God realizes that underneath it all, we are just the world's worst dogs ever? It starts to make you to wonder why God didn't just get rid of all of us a long time ago... it certainly would've been easier!

Well, in the movie Marley & Me, we hear from the family itself why they don't just get rid of Marley. There's one point where the wife has had it. She's done, she wants Marley gone, he causes too much hassle for one family to bear. But then she remembers that for all of the trouble he gives them, as difficult as he can be, Marley is part of their family. They took him when he was just a clearance puppy. They chose him, and they named him, and they claimed him as one of their very own. Marley was a part of their family – and you don't give up on family. You don't get rid of family, because family is forever.

And that's why God doesn't just get rid of any of us. We hear this same promise ringing loud and clear in Mark's story of Jesus' baptism. In Mark's version of the gospel, this is it; this is the very beginning of Jesus' story – there's no word about Mary & Joseph, no trip to Bethlehem, no angels, no shepherds, no wise men. For Mark, the story starts with Jesus. Jesus, who comes down to the river Jordan where John was baptizing, Jesus who plunges into the water that holds our sins, taking those sins on himself. And while he stands there in that water, before all good things come to an end, God appears. God tears open the heavens and speaks: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Before anything else happens, God names him and claims Jesus as God's very own. Jesus is part of God's family.

And the promise God speaks to Jesus comes to us too. It comes in the waters of baptism and echoes through every day of our lives, as God tears open the heavens, and comes into our lives, saying, “You are my child, my beloved.” “I choose you, clearance puppy or old dog though you may be. I choose you, and I name you 'child of God', and I claim you as my very own. No matter what you do, you are part of my family. And no matter what happens, you don't get rid of family, because family is forever.”

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Lutheran Bishops & Leaders in the Holy Land

Lutherans from America and Canada are visiting our sister Lutheran Church in Jordan & the Holy Land. If you are interested, The Lutheran magazine has a blog from one of the travelers. It gives daily updates on their journey & activities.

You can find it here:
http://www.thelutheran.org/blog/holyland/

2nd Sunday after Christmas - January 4, 2009

The Light Brings Life
John 1:1-18
Christmas 2 – January 4, 2008

One of the things that I always notice when I go visit my family in northwestern Pennsylvania is how big and bright the stars are. You go outside on a clear night, and there seem to be a million of 'em hanging right over your head. Way more than you can see here or any of the other urban areas I've lived in.

But I guess that's changing, because when my parents were up here this week, my dad was talking about the problem of light pollution. Lights from the college nearby, lights from the prison that's been built since I moved away, lights everywhere. Of course, the security light my parents put up in the yard next to the driveway doesn't help much either.

But this talk about light pollution got me thinking about why it is we have so many lights. And I guess it has to be that we, like so many children, are afraid of the dark. It's almost instinctive, this fear of the dark, because we don't know what lurks out there where we can't see it hiding. As kids, we may have worried about monsters under the bed or behind the closet door. But even as we get older, we try to stay in the light – we know well to avoid those dark alleys or poorly-lit parking lots, afraid of evil people with evil intentions.

And so, as much as we can, we try to light up the darkness. We try to push it back with our security lights and night-lights, motion-sensor lights and street lights, lights on our bridges, lights in our parking lots, lights everywhere – all in an attempt to keep the darkness at bay so we don't have to be afraid of what's out there, because we feel more safe and secure in the light.

But the problem is, even with all of the lights we have set blazing, we can't keep the darkness back, because dark isn't just something outside of us; darkness lurks even within us. Even in the brightest light of the noonday sun, we carry darkness with us... the darkness of our guilts and regrets; the darkness of our sorrows and fears, the darkness of anger and violence and war – all signs and symptoms of our sinful selves, the part of us that would rather turn away from God and stay in the dark, because as much as we fear that darkness, there are things about us that we would rather not have brought out into the light.

Today's gospel talks about that darkness, the pitch-black-ness of the world that Jesus came to. Then as now, the world was a dark place, filled with the results of selfishness and greed, of pain and sadness, of evil and sin and death, a world filled with all of the ways that people rebel against God and try to keep God at arm's length, trying to hold back the darkness on our own instead of coming into the light.

This darkness was nothing new. It was there almost from the very beginning, when Adam & Eve heard God say not to eat that fruit, and then did it anyway. It was humanity's darkness that caused God over and over again to send witnesses to the light. God sent Moses with the Law, to shine God's light into their lives, to show how people should live with God and each other. The ever-creeping darkness is why God sent the prophets, reminding the people of how God created them and the whole world to be, reminding them of what it looked like to live in the light. And each time, the people came to that light of God, but before long, they always forgot, and turned back to the darkness.

And so, in the fullness of time, God took a new and drastic step. Instead of sending messengers, bringing candles borrowed from God's light, God came down to earth in person. God sent the only Son, the source of all light – the eternal Word who was in the beginning...

In the beginning – when God created the heavens and the earth.

In the beginning – when the earth was still a formless void

In the beginning – when darkness covered the face of the deep

In the beginning – when God said, “Let there be light” and there was light!

In the fullness of time, God sent the true Light, Light coming into a dark, dark world to enlighten all people. The true Light, who brings hope to the hopeless, comfort to the grieving, courage to the fearful. The true Light, who shines in the darkness of our souls, revealing the things that are broken, the things that have gone desperately wrong and then works to repair and restore them. The true Light who brings life even out of death, because the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it!

This is the mystery of the Incarnation, the wonder that we celebrate each Christmas season and every time we gather. This is the good news – that God the Father sent God the Son, the Word who became flesh and lived among us, so that we might hear and touch and see this God who no one had ever seen before, that we might know face to face this God who loves us so much that God wouldn't leave us alone in our darkness.

The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

Jesus is that light, the light that will never go out, the light that shines constantly like a beacon, calling us to come out of the darkness, to leave behind doubt and fear and sin and live in the Light of his love, to receive from him grace upon grace – God's love overflowing into every corner of our lives, and from us, into every corner of the world.

The truth is, left to our own devices, we would be trapped in our darkness forever, because even with all of our lights, even with our light pollution, we can't hold the darkness back on our own. Those external lights are just substitutes for the real thing. God sent the true Light, the only Son who is close to the Father's heart, to make God known, to give us power to become children of God, children living in the Light, called to share God's light and love, called to carry it into the darkest places of our world, to go rejoicing as we say: “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

Amen.