As I ponder this question I am reminded of the words of Abraham Joshua Heschel, “To become aware of the ineffable is to part company with words.” For many of us Christmas brings feelings and realizations about the Incarnation that truly are well beyond speech.  Although the card companies, carol writers, and pageant producers all attempt to verbalize it, we are aware of the impossibility of capturing the Incarnation’s grace in mere words.  We cannot, however, do away with words, but perhaps sometimes we should try.

The theme for this issue of The Living Pulpit is nation at a time when it seems the entire world is watching excitedly as our nation inaugurates a new president whose ancestry, race, and background have caused millions of people to question many of their assumptions about nation, national identity, and national leadership.   It is impossible to turn on the television or pick up a newspaper without commentary about global issues of economy, war, peace, and justice.  The headlines shout of the role of terrorist organizations on one hand and religious and humanitarian groups on the other hand reminding us daily of the decreasing importance of political borders.  Whether we use the terms “nation” or “kingdom,” many of the readings this month directly address the idea of people united with a vision of who they are, where they are going, and who is in control of their lives.

January 4, 2009
Jer 31:7-14, Psalm 147:12-20, Eph 1:3-14, Jn 1: (1-9), 10-18

There is so much to choose from in this week’s lectionary.  There tend to be more deaths during the winter months and if death within the congregational family has intruded upon the holiday season, the lesson from Jeremiah with its reassuring, “I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow,” may provide a welcome acknowledgement that this is not just the season of children’s pageants and caroling.  It is an opportunity, outside of the funeral homily, to acknowledge that there is a process of healing, rather than an immediate transition, that takes place as mourning evolves over some amount of time and through some amount of faithful living, into joy.  In the same way, a congregation jittery over the economic uncertainty of the new year may well need the preacher’s guidance in bringing God’s promise, “my people shall be satisfied with my bounty, says the LORD,” home to them with a possible exploration of bounties that are not measured in dollars.

Most preachers, however, are likely to want to preach from the Gospel of John.  While this passage fits all times and places, there is such a compelling tendency to want to preach, “In the beginning…” at the beginning of the secular year, at the beginning of a new political administration, at the beginning of a new church season.

One approach to the passage is to delve more deeply into the images of light — especially if the church has already heard all the affirming references to light over the past weeks in the context of the Advent wreath and Christmas Eve candlelight service readings.  Here is a wonderful opportunity to explore the challenging nature of the light that illuminates the darkest corners of our being and challenges us to acknowledge some of the things we would just as well keep in the dark.

January 11, 2009
Gen.  1:1–5; Psalm 29; Acts 19:1–7; Mk 1:4–11

How do we walk our congregations through the exercise of contemplating the reign of God in the days leading up to a presidential inauguration when every media outlet is shouting about secular leadership?  We need contemplation precisely when we risk being drowned in noise.  Inauguration or not, ours is a society constantly bombarded by media of many kinds, and silence has lost its appeal.  In fact, silence is not only awkward but frightening to some.  Perhaps now more than ever is a good time to encourage reflection and contemplation among our congregants.  I am confident that it is as fine a lesson as we could offer at the beginning of the new year.

In the passages for the second Sunday in January, there is much to contemplate.  The reign of God is the reign of one who is creator, not just creator of Jesus, of us, but of all that is.  In past weeks we were reminded by the psalmist to sing the praises of this Creator God, and this week our first reading is from the creation story of Genesis.  It is interesting that the lesson for this Sunday includes only the first five verses of the first chapter of one of the two creation stories in Genesis.  The creation stories of Genesis have been, and will continue to be, topics of lively debate, but regardless of where we or our congregations stand in terms of the issues of creationism, intelligent design, and evolution, these first five verses in Genesis deserve serious consideration.  Here we are presented with the most basic information that we created ones need to know: “In the beginning, God.”

Having been reminded of the creative aspect of God in the Genesis reading, we are now reminded by the psalmist in Psalm 29 that we as the created ones are called upon to “ascribe to the Lord glory and strength/ ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name/ worship the Lord in holy splendor.” (29: 1b–2, NRSV)  Woven throughout this psalm is the recognition of the breadth and depth of the reign of God.  The language of enthronement might first carry us to thoughts of royal kingdoms, but these thoughts are soon eclipsed by the remarkable image of God who sits enthroned forever, enthroned “over the flood.” (19:10)  Such a description would evoke in the minds of the Hebrew listener the specific flood from the story of Noah.  The idea that this Creator God has the power over that which could destroy all creation is almost unfathomable!

The relationship between Creator and created is echoed in both of the New Testament readings this week.  In Mark 1:4–11 we have the story of Jesus’ own baptism by John (and in many churches this Sunday is celebrated explicitly as the Baptism of Christ), and we are made aware of the way in which God in Jesus continues to reach out to us, to join with us, to be one with us.  In this passage it is significant that we find Jesus aligning himself with John the Baptist and submitting to John’s baptism.  The voice from the clouds reiterates what we have already come to expect and that is that God is aware of what is going on and is making God’s self known through Jesus.  The story in Mark takes on added significance when we realize that unlike Matthew and Luke who chose to begin their Gospels with the birth narrative, or John who chose to begin by placing Jesus (the Word) at the beginning of time, Mark begins the story of the Good News with an emphasis on Jesus’ presence among us.

Jesus’ baptism with the Holy Spirit is the topic of the reading from Acts this week as well.  Here Paul instructs those who have been baptized in John’s baptism that they should be baptized in the baptism of the one who came after John.  As Paul baptizes them and the Holy Spirit comes upon them, we hear echoes of the story of the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost, related for us in Acts 2.  Here (in Acts 19), as in chapter 2, the manifestation of the Spirit is the ability to speak in tongues.  As we consider the created and the Creator in this week’s reflection on the reign of God, it seems to me that this combination of stories is pregnant with possibilities for a sermon.  Not only do we have the Markan passage demonstrating God’s reaching out to us through Jesus who reached out to others by joining in John’s baptism, but we also have the realization of the potential power imbued in us through our reaching out to others by joining in Jesus’ baptism.  The gift of the Spirit (described both in the story of Pentecost and here in Acts 19) far exceeds the interpretation of “tongues” as indiscernible speech.  Perhaps these stories are better interpreted as demonstrations that the gift of the Spirit is the gift to speak in a way that others can comprehend.  (I have elaborated of this rereading of the Pentecost story in my essay “That Unsettling Holy Spirit” in the April–June 2004 issue of The Living Pulpit.)

January 16, 2009
1 Sam.  3:1–10; Psalm 139:1–6, 13–18; 1 Cor.  6:12–20; John 1:43–51

At the beginning of this essay I suggested that in translating basileia tou theou as “kingdom of God” we risk restricting our understanding spatially or temporally; we sometimes have difficulty moving beyond the dilemma of whether to think of the kingdom of God as a place (earthly or heavenly), a rule (political or apocalyptic), or a time (future eschatological moment or era).  As we move through the month of January in earnest contemplation of the concept nationhood and citizenship, we begin to see that the concept of the “reign of God” carries risks as well as promise.  In other words, in trying to avoid a myopic vision of the “kingdom” we may find that the concept “reign of God” seems so immense as to be inscrutable.  It is important that we not lose ourselves in this reflection.

The lectionary readings for Sunday provide us the means to keep the reflection within our grasp.  They offer us an opportunity to think with our congregations about the significance of the need to be known by God.  For example, in the passage from 1 Samuel we find young Samuel who, although already in service to the Lord, does not recognize God’s calling.  God is a persistent God, and finally Samuel is able to respond.  This familiar story has been known to many of us since childhood and has prompted the writing of such hymns as “Here I Am.” As with all familiar encounters with the sacred text, it is important to step back from this story and determine whether or not we can see it through a new lens.  This story clearly illustrates the idea that our inability to discern God’s call (or recognize that which we hear as God’s call) does not mean that God no longer calls.  God knows and calls Samuel, but Samuel’s hearing is impaired by his lack of understanding.  This is a good starting point for a sermon about listening, really listening, for God’s call in our own lives.  More often than not, what we recognize as silence from God is a reflection of our own deafness to the call.

Indeed, if we are honest with ourselves we find that we, like the Psalmist, recognize that God knows us at all times and in all places.  What may at first feel somewhat disconcerting is ultimately a comforting thought, for no matter how lost or alone we might feel in this world, there is the realization that we are known by God.  On a retreat I recently led, we reflected on this particular psalm and I was moved by one retreatant’s image as she read verse 5 of this psalm, “you hem me in, behind and before.” For many of us, “hemmed in” has a negative connotation, but this young woman turned to sewing imagery and for the first time understood this remark of the psalmist as declaration of being finished by God, of the raw edges being turned under.  A lovely image as we contemplate being known by God.

Yes, we are indeed known by God and sustained by God, and in the light of that knowledge it is important that we offer up praise to God not only in word but in how we care for our bodies.  The reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is a reminder to the believers in Corinth and to us as readers today that we are significant elements of the reign of God.  It is humankind that houses the Holy Spirit here on earth, and it is imperative that we are aware of and respectful of that aspect of God’s presence.  It is not enough to worship God, creator and redeemer of humankind, but it is also incumbent upon us to recognize the value of human life and to use our own selves in worship of God.

We might be surprised that we could be called “temples of the Holy Spirit,” but Paul urges the readers of this letter to become aware of this.  We are not the first to doubt the good that can emerge from struggling humanity.  In fact, the gospel reading from John 1 reminds us of such as we read the familiar line “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (John 1:46)  For centuries we have been filled with preconceived notions about where and how and through whom God’s reign can be manifest here on earth.  Isn’t it time we begin to trust the imperceptible ways of our God who can indeed bring great good from a most unlikely place?

January 25, 2009
Jonah 3:1–5; 10; Ps 62:5–12; 1 Cor.  7:29–31; Mk 1:14–20

If we succeed in the first weeks of January to guide our congregations into serious reflection of the reign of God, then in the final week of January we can begin to help them see their role in the reign of God as well as the imperative to go forth and work within the reign of God.  This week’s gospel lesson provides a good starting point for reflecting on the role of humankind in the reign of God.

In a matter of a few short verses (Mk 1:14–20) the gospel writer recounts John’s imprisonment, the beginning of Jesus’ Galilean ministry, and the first call of disciples.  This evangelist wastes no words in getting to the story of the ministry.  In fact, by the end of the first chapter of this Gospel Jesus has aligned himself with John through baptism, spent forty days and nights in the wilderness, begun his ministry, called disciples, taught in the synagogue, healed many, cured lepers, exorcised demons, and made such a name for himself that (as the final verse of chapter 1 attests) “people came to him from every quarter.” (1:45)  With such an incredibly full opening to the Gospel it is imperative that we read it carefully.

The verses in today’s gospel reading demonstrate two important ideas for our continuing reflection.  First, we note the sense of urgency in the proclamation.  However we interpret the remarks about the kingdom in 1:15, it is clear that people are being called on to pay attention.  We may not live in an age in which the apocalyptic fervor matches first-century Palestine (although it is quite strong in some Christian circles today), but if we take the reign of God seriously, it is important that we, too, have a sense of the urgency of the gospel message.  This is not so much because the world may end at any moment as that until we realize our own role, we will not be able to fully contemplate the reign.  Notice that the first word after Jesus’ declaration that the kingdom is at hand is an imperative to the listener, two imperatives in fact — repent and believe.

The gospel writer then moves to the pericope about the call of the first disciples.  In verses 16–20 Mark relates to us the authoritative leadership of Jesus.  His ability to call people away from their life’s work, from a family trade, is astounding.  Whether they dropped their nets that moment or shortly after hearing from him is beside the point.  In these five short verses, Mark demonstrates that Jesus’ first act in ministry is to bring others into the work.

As we move toward the end of January and our period of reflection on God’s reign, the gospel lesson offers a provocative point of focus for this Sunday, but there is good support for creative sermonizing as we also look to the story of a reluctant but successful Jonah, as we turn to the psalm for reassurance that our strength is in God, and as we are encouraged to take action because, in many ways (as Paul tells the Corinthians), “the present form of this world is passing away.” (1 Cor 7:31)