Song lyrics can be very weird. Some either make no sense at all, or they’re so cryptic that they seem to make no sense. The 70s rock band “Yes” was infamous for these kinds of lyrics. Sample with me, if you please, a verse from one of their greatest hits:

Long distance runaround
Long time waiting to feel the sound
I still remember the dream there
I still remember the time you said goodbye
Did we really tell lies
Letting in the sunshine
Did we really count to one hundred

What was that again? It makes no sense!

Now compare those lyrics with this easy to understand refrain from a popular Beatles song:

She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah

She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah

She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah

That’s pretty straightforward, isn’t it? Who loves you? She does. It’s certainly not Longfellow, but it’s message is perfectly clear. Nothing weird or ambiguous about those words! The previous collection or words is a mystery—I once read that Rick Wakeman of Yes wrote lyrics based upon how the word sounded and would fit musically in the song. No thought towards message or meaning!

Luckily (or rather providentially), our hymnody is not like that. Oh, don’t get me wrong—there, in that cranberry red book lies a generous usage of obscure words and theological jargon, vague biblical references, and jumbled-up lines that deserve footnotes due to a loose use of syntax , also known as “artistic license.”

Take for quick example A Mighty Fortress. In the third verse we sing, “Let this world’s tyrant rage; in battle we’ll engage (all right so far). His might is doomed to fail; God’s judgment must prevail! One little word subdues him. Well—what’s the word?

Even those most beloved songs—the ones we sing at this time of year, Christmas carols—they have incomprehensible lyrics sometimes too. Sing with me for a bit if you please, number 267 Joy to the World, stanzas 1 and 3.

Did you pick up on the slightly mysterious parts? No more let sin and sorrow grow / or thorns infest the ground. Thorns in the ground – that’s one—and? The other is far as the curse is found. What’s that again? What do thorns and curses have to do with baby Jesus? Well, as with many good Christmas hymns, you have to know a bit of Old Testament scripture and theology in order to get this. God and the people of Israel had a kind of cyclical relationship that played out like this: God gives the law, the people break the law and suffer consequences, the people repent and God forgives. Often this relationship is allegorized as that between a land owner and his vineyard. The owner gives what the vines need for growth, the vines produce nothing or wild grapes—and they suffer the consequences—being lopped off and thrown in the fire, or complete destruction of the vineyard. That meant that weeds and scrub trees would take over the land, and oft times the angry owner would sow thorn seed to be thorough.

This snippet of verse three therefore, set up by Joy to the world, the Lord is come, refers to Jesus’ mission to forgive Israel and reverse the fortunes of the vineyard. As for the “curse,” it is placed in juxtaposition with the blessings that flow from Christ Jesus, like irrigation for the thirsty vineyard. The “blessing” is again, forgiveness—the curse, the consequences and results of sin.

Let’s sing another—270. For one, it’s the most mistaken bit of angelology ever. We know the names of several angels in the bible—Gabriel, Michael, the notorious Angel of the Lord who deals death blows to culpable parties—but did you know that there’s another? Harold. “Hark!” Harold the angel sings. But there’s a real complicated bit of theology in verse two—which we’ll sing now.

Veiled in flesh the God-head see, hail the incarnate deity. This whole verse tells us theological truths about Jesus, which is known as Christology. It starts off with a reference to Jesus being God’s beloved, moves on to calling him “everlasting’ and ‘Lord”—the first an attribute of God, the second a title which denotes power, Then quickly it talks about his virgin birth, before moving into the two persons of Christ. Flesh – in this case not meaning the part of us that pushes us to sin a la St. Paul. But rather, meaning here “humanity”—Jesus took on flesh, he became as real a human being as you and I.

Why does it say veiled, then—and what is this God-head? Is it like one of those Easter Island sculptures? No, “god-head” roughly means “God-ness.” The veil refers to the veil Moses wore to tone down the brilliant luminosity of his face after his encounter with YAHWEH. Or to the veil in the temple that separated the Holy of Holies, entered by humans only once a year, from the rest of the temple. So what this statement means is that God’s “godness” can actually be seen, made non-lethal and possible by enfleshment. So hail, incarnate deity!

A couple of quickies and then I’ll tie this and the gospel all together with a bow (or at least put it in a gift bag for you.) Number 281 first verse. (song) Easier to read with the lights on, ay? Silent might, holy night, all is calm, all is bright round yon virgin, mother and child—is that a commentary on Mary’s physique? That she’s round? I always thought so. Of course you would “translate” this poetry as “All is calm and bright around that virgin mother, and her child.”

Gloria in excelcis Deo—what does that mean? Glory to God in the highest.

What child is this who laid to rest on Mary’s lap is sleeping? An awkward construction—William C. Dix would have got a zero from my old English teacher on that one. “Who is the child sleeping on Mary’s lap” is infinitely better, but alas lap doesn’t rhyme with “shepherds watch are keeping.” So we have what we have, and it’s good—as long as you take the time to understand the words that you’re singing.

And that’s an important responsibility we all take on when we open our hymn books. There’s good stuff within those hymns, but some of it takes a little interpretive work to get the most out of it. So, when you’re singing, keep your eyes and mind open, otherwise you’ll miss out!

Now the gospel. Mary and Joseph bring their baby to the temple for the customary ritual for firstborn male children. There they encounter an old man and an old woman who appear to know Jesus, despite the fact neither of them had ever laid eyes upon the child. They say some pretty strange and wonderfully shocking things. They couldn’t believe their ears. Simeon says,

My eyes have seen your salvation…what was that again?

A light for the gentiles…say what?

This child is destined for the fall and rise of many…come again?

He will be opposed…excuse me?

And a sword will pierce your soul…now wait just a minute!

But there is no break in the action as when Simeon finishes up, Anna starts in. Mary and Joseph knew the child was special—holy—but they could not have even dreamed of such a response from total strangers. The words they heard rushed over them and confused. They needed time to sort out the implications of these events—the angel’s visit, the shepherds calling Jesus king, and now these two religious people praising God that their wait for the Lord’s Messiah had come to an end as they held Mary’s boy child aloft. They needed to ponder these words.

And we do too. We need to hold the story of God’s incarnation in our hearts and minds for more than one fleeting day. Because there’s too much to it all to contemplate in that short a time period. We should be asking ourselves:

What does it mean for me that God chose to become human?

What does it say about God?

What is salvation and why does it come in the form of an infant?

What should we as the church do in response to the incarnation?

What is the sword that pierces our soul?

We should be taking time to fully understand the rich implications of Jesus’ birth—his humanity and his deity. So I’m going to make a suggestion. You’re no doubt familiar with and have suffered through that carol The Twelve Days of Christmas. Lo and behold, it’s not a list of presents given by a very creative gift-giver, but a way to remember that there are twelve days of Christmas –not just one.

Now we’re already on day four, but hopefully you had Christmas on your mind Christmas day, so we’re only lacking three. What I want you to do is to use that song in what ever way you deem fit, to keep thinking about the meaning of Christmas all the way up to Jan 5^th . And then on the 6^th, we’ll gather together and celebrate Epiphany.

For instance—knowing that Jesus was born into poverty and impoverished people need food—instead of five golden rings, you might send five dollars to World Hunger. Instead of seven swans a swimming you might try to name all the seven deadly sins and confess your own before the one born to die for them. You might choose the number in your family to help you recall that Jesus was born into a family and loved them just as we do.

Leave the holiday decorations up, make the wise men in your crèche travel across the living room on their way to Epiphany and the newborn king. Light candles. Drink eggnog. What ever helps you extend your musing on Christ’s birth. Kids, play with your new toys, and while you do, remember the gift Jesus gave to us all—himself. Let Christmas last longer than the leftover turkey in the fridge.

And sing carols—I know you may be tired of them—but I’m talking Angels we have heard on high, not Grandma got run over by a reindeer. Sing Joy to the world, good christian friends rejoice, and all the other hymns. Look deeply at the words—find the ones that make you say: what was that again? Discover their meaning.

But most of all, remember that even as the world goes on—leaving the peacefulness of Christmas behind—there is a savior who goes on with us. The world will never be the same again because he was born. Think about it.

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My wife, Lisa, reads magazines backwards. She starts at the back cover and flips the pages left to right, beginning with the end, and ending with the beginning. I say, “How can you read the magazine like that? The articles go the other way!” But she just shrugs and goes back to reading he magazine—from finish to start.

That’s peculiar indeed, but I’m willing to ignore it. It’s harmless. And besides, I have my own eccentricities, too. For instance, the supermarkets have had eggnog in their dairy cases for almost a month now. But I won’t buy or drink any until after Thanksgiving. No one else in the house may do so, either. It’s just my rule—to keep from getting sick of it before Christmas time.

Lest you think that these idiosyncrasies have skipped the next generation, my son, Erik, who isn’t here to stop me from telling you this, used to dunk his bologna sandwich in his blue Kool-Aid. Yum! But he enjoyed the combo—and the surprised expressions of those who saw him do this were like frosting on the cake for him.

As for Sarah, my seminarian daughter in law,. all indicators point to her fitting right in with the Teichmann’s, but I won’t talk about her because she’s new and all. That and the fact that she’s the only one who can tell stories on me in her sermons!

What a family! What a family! Thanksgiving brought families like mine together for a great feast this past Thursday. You know, there’s something about Thanksgiving, the effect it has on people—something akin to the full moon, because certain family members can’t help but act out! Last Sunday in Adult Forum we talked about Thanksgiving memories. They were all good memories. But I’m sure each person there could have told another story of somebody doing something weird on Thanksgiving.

Some wise old sage said that “a family is like a tray of fudge—mostly sweet with a few nuts.” Because, truth be told, no family is immune to having their individual or corporate peculiarities. But what are you gonna do? Your Uncle Charlie who plays the harmonica with his nose is admittedly strange. But he’s blood. What’s the old adage, “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives.” Ain’t it the truth?!

Bishop Desmond Tutu has a different take on that one, though. He agrees that “You don’t choose your family.” But he goes on to say that, “They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” That puts a different light on it. Especially when we realize that this is the relationship that we claim to have as a group of believers gathered together around Jesus Christ.

Look around to your left and right—and look back. We say that these people are our church family. And so, acknowledging our own oddities, and in spite of everyone else’s, we claim each other as kin. We are blood. We are brothers and sisters in Christ.

And when we get together for a meal, as we do each Sunday, there is a wide array of personal preferences, habits, opinions, and tastes. And there is eccentricity—to each his own. But, since we accept what Bishop Tutu said about families as true, our goal is to recognize each other as God’s gift to each other, and to be together in the way that happy, healthy families are. Interested in each other’s joys and concerns, helping each other out in time of extreme need, tending and teaching our children, and passing along the mystery of our faith: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Today, as we enter once again into the season of Advent, we focus our attention first on the latter part of that statement of faith, “Christ will come again.” Because Advent, you see, is a lot like my wife’s way of reading a magazine. We start at the end, with the end of the ages, the apocalypse, the culmination of God’s grand plan for salvation and restoration. And four weeks later we arrive at the beginning—with a newborn child, born to a peasant family. A God whose incarnation and destiny were not at all what or when we expected them to be.

And so what we can expect is that the end will be just as surprising as the beginning. Now that makes it difficult to concentrate on “keeping Advent,” especially in this first week. This “not knowing” the time or day that Jesus speaks of rattles us, frustrates us, and makes us prone to skipping over this facet of Advent—wanting to start at the beginning with the tender infant Jesus we know, rather than at the end with ambiguous fig tree timetables and vague references to bridegrooms and wedding feasts.

That would be a mistake—not one that will endanger your immortal soul, but one that would obscure the future orientation of Advent in favor of an historic one. Meaning we would be ignoring the approaching reign of God, focusing instead on preparing for a commemorative birthday party for Jesus. Can you see what you’d be missing?

That’s why Jesus makes such an emphasis on “keeping awake” in today’s gospel. Keep awake, be alert, beware! Our readiness for the in-breaking of the kingdom of God is required of us constantly! As followers of Christ, we are to be always vigilant—even if we don’t know exactly what for. Well, if that be the case—when do we sleep? When do we eat? Are there any potty breaks? This constant vigilance seems impossible for one to maintain.

Exactly. Did you notice that in Jesus’ parable the man going away on a journey leaves the running of things up to his servants, each with his work, and charges the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Those two statements tell us a lot about how we might keep Advent in a way that both respects the coming of Christ and our desire to celebrate the incarnation.

A while back when she was merely First Lady, Hillary Clinton wrote a book based on an African proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child.” The premise was that all of us, as Americans, need to take responsibility in assuring that our children have a good education, adequate healthcare, and safe living conditions. Everyone is responsible—everybody plays a part, every person is accountable.

Jesus’ parable can be seen as espousing the same concept, if you dig a little deeper into it. First, all the servants are placed in charge—each having unique responsibilities—but all working together to protect and grow their master’s property. That is their assignment as to being ready. The doorkeeper, you might think, has a solitary role, noting that the land owner tells him to be on the lookout and not fall asleep. How can he possibly be expected to stay awake day and night until the master returns?

Well, he isn’t. The master tells the doorkeeper to “be on the watch,” which in first century terms meant a system of three time periods throughout the night, each kept by a different watchman. So you see, Jesus wants us to be alert and ready for his coming in the clouds—but he doesn’t expect us to be able to do that alone. The efforts of the whole community, or in this case, the whole household, are needed in order for everyone to remain ready. It takes a church, therefore, to keep Advent. You aren’t expected to keep it alone.

And kind of as a sidebar, I do want to tell you that the judgment at the end of the ages should not be feared, despite the language used to portray it. We shouldn’t think that we’ll be subjected to eternal damnation if we happen to mess up and be found making a sandwich when the Lord comes back. Christ has won a place for you with God that is irrevocable! So don’t worry—keep Advent. As a community of believers—as a church.

What is that like? First of all, we encourage on another not to rush to the beginning of the story—to instead let the end have our full attention. The beginning will come soon enough, there’s no reason to hasten it, and every reason to use this time for anticipating and imagining the new heaven and new earth that lay promised in the future. Quite like drinking milk to maintain good healthy bones, while savoring the thought of sweet eggnog to come!

We can encourage each other to live in that future promise during these four weeks by stepping outside of our culture of consumerism, and setting aside our idol of instant gratification, and instead gather as a the people of God for worship. Our Advent evening prayer services are a great way to do this. Together we lift our voices in song, hear scripture, and a witness. The simplicity of a soup and bread supper provides a template for the time spent in Advent. Sunday worship is also a way to keep Advent as we follow the story from end to beginning via hymns, candles that mark the passage of time, and a focus on the risen Christ and his advent. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.

Together as a church we keep Advent as the sum total of our individual ministries. We are each called to certain tasks, based on the gifts God has given us, just as the servants in the parable were charged each to his own work. So, together we share in giving gifts to those in need, giving food to those who are hungry through World Hunger. The work of some is in giving of themselves—and as a community we support the work of prison ministry and ministry for the homeless. All that we each do in the name of Christ Jesus, we do as a church—part of tending God’s creation as stewards—encouraging each other and keeping watch by keeping busy.

We keep Advent by just being the church family that we are. Though we fail sometimes to even come close to it, we represent the way people interact in the kingdom of God. We are to be an example of unconditional love for others, care and concern primarily for those in need, and an example of how people can live together peacefully and justly. Now, being the perfect reflection of the kingdom won’t happen this side of the second coming. But if we hold fast to the way of Christ, our churches and fellowships can model for others a humble and authentic community.

Finally, there’s the sandwich dunked in blue koolade. That helps us as a church to keep Advent. Not literally. But as a metaphor for our expectations. What the world expected from Jesus was far different from what they got. They expected God in majesty—they got God in diapers.

What do we expect from Christ’s second coming? Advent is a time for us, together as the church, to dunk our certainty of when, where, who, what, why and witherthereforeto—to drown that certainty in the blue koolade of possibility. To free our minds from preconceived notions of cosmic battles, judgment scenes, and cataclysmic disasters, and revel in the flavor of the possibility that instead of coming in a rush, that the kingdom of heaven is slowly washing over the earth. That justice and mercy are gaining ground in the world, and the glimpses of grace that we observe or co-create are a part of the second coming—which may be being made known even today.

I’m not saying that’s how it’s going down, I’m just saying that part of keeping Advent is rejoicing in the knowledge that our God in Christ Jesus cannot be limited by human expectations, and understanding that his coming will be a pleasant and welcome surprise.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Be ready Messiah. Keep Advent. Do Advent. Live Advent. Together. Because it takes all of us. Amen

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The eyes of all look to you Father, and you give them their food in dues season. You open your mighty hand and the world is fed!

I ate too much yesterday. I am blessed to have more than I need. Yesterday many people died of hunger. They are blessed by God as well. I am to be his hand, and feed the world. Join me in making a contribution to World Hunger this Sunday!

Prayer concern - those who hunger, those who can share.

Lord God, you give the world enough to feed everyone. But our ways disrupt that giving. Help we who have more than enough to share freely with those who don't. For we are all blessed by you, Lord, God of all. Amen

Our Father...


May the God of abundance bless you and your work for the kingdom. Amen

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. Psalm 91.11

Today is the biggest travel day of the year. As families and relatives and friends get together for a meal and the requisite activities. So today's prayer concern is travelers.

Dear God, you travel with us as we go this day. Keep us safe and bring us to our destination with as little traffic as possible! We thank you for your loving care and concern for all who travel this day. Amen

Our Father,...

Holy God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, bless you now and protect you till we meet again!

Come and see what God has done: he is awesome in his deeds among mortals. Psalm 66.5

One of the things people do during the thanksgiving time, is to count their blessings. Sometimes that is hard to do--when things all seem to go wrong at the same time! But we have life, we have each other, and we have God's love--that's start, and I think you could add much more even in the worst of times. And if this is the best of times--then don't just count your blessings--share them. Because we are a community of believers, and sometimes you help, and sometimes you're helped.

Prayer concern - those in financial straights

God, before you we are all needy. Help us to live together and share resources, so that all may have enough. Guide us in our finances, that we maintain the lives you gave us, and that we might give you glory by our use of wealth.

Our father....

May God look upon you with a smile, rub your hair, and pat your head--all in love for you!

Did you watch CNN on election night? What did you think of the technology? If they spent half as much on the voting machines and election process as was spent on the “Situation Room,” there wouldn’t have been any long lines waiting to vote and no recounts necessary. I mean that old Wolf Blitzer had everything at his fingertips! Hundreds of laser precise polls, right down to the percentage of Croatian men, 35.5 to 36, who own three-legged Dalmatians and voted for John McCain because his name starts the same as McDonald’s. Precise polls. Beautiful graphics to go along with them. There were also maps galore. They had an immense touch screen computer display, that they could use to drag and drop in statistics and polling info from anywhere on the map, or to zoom in on areas of the maps right down to the satellite view, and also to pop up windows with historical or anecdotal side bar stories. Impressive!

But the crowning effect of the night had to be the holograms. Did you see those? They had a newsperson filmed with 3D digital cameras in Chicago, and then the techno-wizards projected a full-body image of him into the Situation Room. In real time—talking with Wolf. It was like Star Trek, man! It was a little hokey—the figure shimmered around the edges for no apparent reason, and he couldn’t move outside of the space defined by the cameras. But it was pretty cool, none the less—if you could block out the requisite Star Wars jokes. (Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope!)

Entertainment technology certainly has developed by leaps and bounds in our lifetime. The sets themselves have gone from five or ten inch black and white screens set in these huge pieces of furniture with antennae you’d need to stand on one leg and manipulate to get a clear picture—from that to flat screen high definition sets that receive signal digitally and are the size of movie screens. And the production values have gone way up. For instance, nowadays they have special binocular camera lenses, so they don’t have to put one of these on the camera. (binocular cutout). Green screen editing can make you appear to be anyplace at anytime, doing anything. The difference between using miniatures and models and computer graphics is like night and day. And, thanks to computers, the days of cheesy special effects used to present someone as a twin, are mercifully over.

Because, every show seems to have an episode in which a character has an evil twin, or a doppelganger. Remember how they used to make a character appear to talk to his or her own “twin?” Split screen—obvious split screen. Or a body double, shot from the back. Today it’s done so realistically, you’d swear that Drew Carey was a twin, or was cloned or something. You can’t tell the difference between the two—many because there is no difference!

Now, you might think the “set up” for this sermonic adventure is complete at this point. That, what ever reason I had for talking about holograms, special effects technology, and Drew Carey is about to be revealed, cleverly and masterfully! You’d be wrong! I still have one stop to make on the trivial information superhighway. And that stop is Disney studios.

Why? Because I want to talk about some classic literature, of course! And, let’s face it, most of us in this room first discovered the classics on the “knee” of Mr. Walt Disney. (This was in the days when studios made movies based on literature, rather than TV shows and comic book characters..) Disney films like Tom Sawyer, and Pollyanna, and A Christmas Carol introduced us to authors the likes of Charles Dickens, C.S. Lewis, A.A. Milne, Hans Christian Andersen, Daniel Defoe, and the inimitable Mark Twain.

Twain’s novels about life on the Mississippi were tapped by Disney, as well as some of his shorter works—the one interesting me today being The Prince and the Pauper.

The Prince and the Pauper, for those of you who don’t remember, is about a young prince, Edward, who meets a poor beggar boy, Tom. Noticing that they look alike, and wanting to be free from the restrictions of court, Edward switches places with Tom, and learns what it means to be poor and low on the social scale. A fairly contrived premise, but certainly no worse than that of the new TV show, Life on Mars. (Which, by the way, is not about life on Mars!)

Now, the kicker is the actor who plays Edward, the prince, also plays Tom, the pauper. So, not only are we treated to some relatively outdated and thus horrendous special “twin” effects, but we’re subjected as well to the ridiculous notion that, in all of England, there’s not even one person who can recognize the prince outside of the palace, dressed differently! What are they blind? Surely the bad split screen should have tipped them off!

But no. Thus, when Edward returned to his throne, he had to have asked his courtiers, “Why didn’t you help me when you saw me?” He might just have well had thought, “And why did those who helped me—poor and raggedy and dangerous little street urchin that I looked to be—why did they help me?” The answer, strangely enough, is that they didn’t recognize him—even though they thought they knew him well.

And, also strangely so, in today’s parable from Matthew, no one recognizes the King in the stranger, the hungry, the thirsty, the sick or the imprisoned. They all thought they knew the King, but they did not—not really. What the King is saying is that when you look upon the poor and sick and imprisoned, you should see his face, not theirs. He’s implying that his kingship is not about wine, women, wealth, and war. Instead, this king is about caring for the least, justice, compassion, and grace. His “twins” are those in need. And, as King, he is defined by them. The Prince is a pauper!

That would have been an alien concept to those listening to Jesus that day. Kings were like David—mighty and powerful. They were wise like Solomon. Kings were to be feared and obeyed. Kings were not weak, nor were they marginalized. To the disciples’ way of thinking, likening the needy to the King was like equating wine and water!

But there it is, right there in black and white (unless you have one of those “words of Jesus in red” bibles!) Jesus is not a king like David, or Solomon, or Herod, or Caesar, for that matter. He is a king like no other—the one above all things who divests himself of what the earth regards powerful, and walks in humble solidarity with those whom society disregards. This king uses weakness and foolishness as God’s power and wisdom. I think you know why that is important to us, here, today—but I’ll come back to it later just to be sure.

Now, if we were shallow folks who didn’t want to think too hard about what the point of this parable may be, we could say: “Treat everyone with respect, compassion, and dignity because you never know when Jesus might be watching. And you don’t want to get on his list.” If you want to go to heaven, then just take care of the needy.

The problem with that is it’s what Luther (and St. Paul) called works righteousness. Buying your way into the kingdom of heaven by buttering up the king with all your good deeds. Kinda like bribery. It’s relying on yourself and your “works” to win you God’s favor. Which leaves Jesus with nothing to do. And we know that he had everything to do with our salvation, and still does. So, that way of looking at this parable doesn’t work—for me anyway.

What does work is to take note of the fact that neither the sheep, who helped the needy, nor the goats, who did not have compassion, neither group recognized the King in the stranger, in the hungry or thirsty, in the naked or sick or imprisoned. They were both clueless when it came to what the least of these represented for the King. The only difference between the two was that one group provided for the needs of people they had no real responsibility for, and the other group felt no compulsion to do that.

That means that the sheep, the righteous ones, the King’s right hand people, cared for those in need as a matter of course—naturally, reflexively, ungrudgingly. They do what they do, not with eye towards reward, and not with commentary on the sociological history of those particular dispossessed, but because that is what you do. If someone’s hungry—you feed him. If someone’s sick, visit her. And if somebody’s naked—by all means get that one some new duds!

Again, as with the story of the ten bridesmaids and that of the slaves’ talents, this parable is more about living in the time between the ascension of Jesus and the coming of the Son of Man. (Which includes right now!) You received mercy, so be merciful. You received new life, so share that life. You received abundantly, so give abundantly. You were saved by faith through grace, so now be faithful to your calling to proclaim that grace and be gracious!

But please understand, these are not imperatives—and they aren’t conditional clauses either. You aren’t ordered to do these things, and you aren’t “if-then-ed’ (if you do this, then you’ll get this…). No. These acts of kindness and compassion blossom abundantly—they flow out of the never-failing wellspring of the graceful reign of the King. A King who deigns to walk among his people, who identifies body and soul with the marginalized and needy, and who, for us and for our salvation, gives his life so that we might live ours joyfully and abundantly as his holy “twin.”

Yes, Jesus’ holy twin. As such we show the same love and solidarity for the needy as did he, doing so in his way, which is neither presumptuous, nor particularly powerful by the world’s standards. In fact, as Jesus’ holy twin, we act, for the most part, counter to the expectations of the world. Not bucking the system, but, rather, living already in God’s promised alternate reality—in which mercy and peace win out over avarice and hubris.

So—we are Jesus’ holy twins. Therefore we, too, are princes and we are paupers. Recipients of God’s grace in Christ Jesus, though we have nothing to offer in return. Keepers of God’s law, though with no expectation of reward. Princes, by inheritance. Paupers, by selfless choice. Serving our King who gives so abundantly and without reserve.

Praise and glory and honor and thanksgiving be to Christ the King, and may his reign be over us now and in the age to come! Ame

The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19.1

Every once in a while we're treated to a beautiful sunset. There is perhaps nothing so marvelous! Sunrises are wonderful too--but unfortunately they occur when my eyes are still closed, for the most part. The stars on a good dark night are also awe inspiring. All these reveal the majesty of our God, who made heaven and earth.

Our prayer is one of thanksgiving today (and will be all week). We thank God for the beauty of creation!

Lord God, you created me and all there is, and you deemed it all "good." Thank you for the beauty of the earth, sea, and skies. And awaken us to their preservation and restoration. Amen

Our Father....


May the God who created everything from the chaos, order your life in Christ Jesus.