Monday, December 30, 2013

Sermon: The 'Hood

kungphoo neighborhoodSermon for Christmas 1A
9:00 Baptism and 11:15 Lessons and Carols
St. Philip’s In The Hills Parish, Tucson, AZ
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse, December 29, 2013
Gospel text John 1:1-18
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts, be acceptable to you,
O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen

In the beginning
Well, those are powerful words. 
In every beginning, like the beginning of 2014,
we humans tend to mark beginnings in special ways. 
We set New Year’s resolution, post our “year in review” on Facebook, 
eat and drink ritual foods that only emerge
this time of year.  In the beginning…

Our Gospel today, opens with these profound words,
In the beginning was the Word and
the Word was with god and the Word was God,”
implying that all creation – ever since the beginning –
perceives and witnesses this primordial, sense-making Word. 

Meaning that God’s will and Christ are revealed as eternal,
ever since the very cosmic beginning. 
Does that give you an idea about the length and breadth
and depth of God’s love and existence? 

“In the beginning, not our wishes, hopes, dreams and plans,
but God and God’s Word, and God’s love for the world
that God chooses to create.”[1]

These verses echo Genesis 1:1,
“In the beginning, God created…”
and God creates by speaking. 
God said, “Let there be light; and there was light.”
The Word was not a heavenly being but
a role of God in creation.[2]

The Psalmist attests it in Psalm 33:6,
“…by the word of the Lord the heavens were made,
and all their host by the breath of [God’s] mouth.
for [God] spoke, and it came to be;
[God] commanded and it stood firm.”

These texts and others remind us that
amid life’s chaos, amid our uncertain times,
amid our petty squabbles, amid our societal struggles,
ever since the beginning,
the world belongs to God and Christ always was.

That is to say, God’s intention for humanity
was to love the world right from the start.
God loved us first, so we love in return. 

And in God’s love we are all lit up by Christ,
which is why K. and C. have brought
S. to be baptized today. 
Through God’s love, they were each baptized. 
Through God’s love, they were brought together
to form a family. 
Through God’s love, S. came into their life.

And in the beginning,
even before she made it to their new home,
K. and C. brought S. to the church,
their faith community, for a blessing. 
In the beginning…

So with an eye and an ear for God’s Love in this family,
we take a special interest today in the middle verses,
“…to all who received him, to all who believed in his name,
he gave power to become children of God (to be adopted),
who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or
of the will of [human] but of God.” 

In the beginning…
Today, through the sacrament of baptism,
God adopts S. as God’s child. 
God makes her a member of the Body of Christ,
and an inheritor of the kingdom of God. 
K. and C., your gift to S.
gives her citizenship in the body of Christ
and redemption by God.
She becomes our sister in Christ. How cool is that?!

“And the Word became flesh and lived among us,
and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son,
full of grace and truth.” 

Eugene Peterson, in his interpretation of the bible,
“The Message,” offers this reading,

“The Word was made flesh and blood
and moved into the neighborhood. 

We saw the glory with our own eyes,
the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son,
generous inside and out, true from start to finish.”[3]

I love this reading because of the word “neighborhood.”[4] 

“Neighborhood” reminds me of the place I grew up
and the people with whom I grew up. 
I remember the open field behind our house
where my family and neighbor friends played kickball.
I remember the public riding ring down the hill
where my horsey-friends would gather on Saturdays,
share equine remedies, laugh and dream. 
I remember the backyards and canyons behind our house, into which we rode bareback and built forts in the bamboo caves.
I remember the neighbors who raised a voracious goat
that seemed to get loose too often.
That’s what I think of when I hear,
“the Word was made flesh
and moved into the neighborhood.” 

The Word was made flesh and moved into
my hillside, zoo-like neighborhood
My neighborhood of laughing kids, secret forts, loose goats
and afternoons on horseback;
my neighborhood, not fit for the cosmic Word of God,
but one in which Jesus moved, anyway. 

And in the beginning, Jesus moved into every neighborhood
       from Barrio Viejo to Dove Mountain,
       from Armory Park to Pusch Ridge,
       from war-torn Sudan to extravagance of Dubai. 

The Word, Jesus, dwells with us all, in all our neighborhoods.

And when he moved in, Peterson says,
his “one-of-a-kind” glory was like Father, like Son,
generous from the inside and out, true from start to finish. 

Jesus, like the Father, lived God’s character two ways:
First, he was generous inside and out. 
In other words, generous from the center,
from his inner heart to his outer skin.
giving away everything that God gave him,
showing us there can be
no difference between inside and out.
Second, he was true from start to finish. 
In other words, true throughout his life and ministry,
with an integrity, honesty, and wholeness. 
Showing us how to live a whole and undivided life.

The Word is a great neighbor.  And from our neighbor
we learn about God’s character, God’s DNA, infused with love, generosity and truth - from which we receive
grace upon grace in our baptism. 

From our neighbor we learn about God’s neighborhood:
to share bread and to pray together,
to resist temptations that keep us from knowing God’s love,
to see the good in others and to ask about their hopes and dreams,
to get to know our neighbors in need and to help them,
to make the world a better place for all our neighbors, 
not just the ones we like (but the ones with loose goats, too!).

That’s what it means that Jesus, the Word,
moved into our neighborhood.

Some people are awed by God’s power
to create something out of nothing. 
Some people are awed by the “omniscience” of God,
the fact that God has infinite knowledge
of all things at the same time. 

For me, I am moved by God’s love
that brings Jesus to the neighborhood. 
Love and compassion bring God next door. 
Love and compassion bring K. and C. here,
with S., for her baptism. 
Love and compassion call us out into the neighborhood
to greet a stranger, to visit someone who is sick,
to help a co-worker who is struggling,
to say thanks to someone important with the words,
“You are God’s gift and I see God’s light in you.”

In the beginning,
the Word was made flesh and blood
and moved into the neighborhood. 

And so, this day, may we recognize God’s glory
in S.’s face and
in the face of every neighbor we meet in the ‘hood,
in every beginning!


[1] Informed by Aaron Klink, “Pastoral Perspective:John 1:1-14,” in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Feasting on the World, Year A, Vol. 1, (Louisville, JohnKnox Press, 2010) p. 140
[2] Inspired by Douglas R. A. Hare, “Exegetical Perspective: John 1:1-14” in in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Feasting on the World, Year A, Vol. 1, (Louisville, JohnKnox Press, 2010) p. 141
[3] The Message, John 1:14 can be viewed at
[4] Portions inspired by Frank A. Thomas, “Pastoral Perspective:John 1: (1-9) 10-18,” in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Feasting on the World, Year A, Vol. 1, (Louisville, JohnKnox Press, 2010) p. 188, 190, 192

Friday, December 27, 2013

Sermon: Christmas Eve: Pondering Light In The Darkness

Sermon for Christmas Eve, Year A
St. Philip’s In The Hills, Tucson, AZ
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse, Dec. 24, 2013
Candlelight Service 7:00pm
Gospel text Luke 2:1-20
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts, be acceptable to you, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen

Merry Christmas! It is good to be with you this evening to celebrate the mysterious birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

The opening lines of John O’Donohue’s book Anam Cara,[1] 
offer a fresh perspective on being human. He writes,
“It is strange to be here.
The mystery never leaves you alone.
Behind your image, below your words, above your thoughts, the silence of another world waits.”
It is strange to be here, when you think about it.

At the heart of Christmas, the incarnation of God is strange.
We celebrate no ordinary birth, no ordinary child.
Jesus is the light of the world,
the fullness of God made visible in human life. 
This is, indeed, a mystery worth pondering.
The silence of another world waits.

The familiar Gospel contains a mystery
that never leaves us alone. 
It was not so ordinary for Mary, who,
“…treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”  
She pondered.

In Greek, word ponder, “soom-bal’-lo,”
means “to throw together,” or “to combine.”

If Mary was on Facebook, her “00 Year In Review”
would throw together these images and posts
from a very out-of-the-ordinary year in her life:

·        Receiving Angel Gabriel’s message she will bear a son,
·        Seeing Elizabeth’s expressive joy that she is pregnant,
·        Feeling the societal stigma of a young, engaged girl becoming pregnant before marriage,
·        Traveling to Bethlehem with her fiance’,
·        Giving birth to her son in a stable,
·        Hearing the exuberance of the shepherds as they, too received an angelic message to come and see.

Mary had a lot going on.  It was not an ordinary year.
She wished for time to fathom the meaning of it all.
Mary “treasured” the extraordinary circumstances,
as all mothers do. 

Mothers never forget any what happens with their children.
Mothers hold in their heart everything the child does,
or suffers, or is said about them.
Mothers think about these things. 
Mothers anxiously try to find out what it all means
for the future of her child.
Mary, like all mothers, treasured the words and pondered.

This Christmas, we do not forget what has happened
in our last year, our extraordinary circumstances. 
Mary invites us to treasure the lives we are birthing,
what we suffer and what it means for our future,
through the lens of this evening’s not-so-ordinary birth.

Mary invites us to ponder the metaphorical meaning,
the sacred and symbolic importance of light in the darkness.
The good news announced in today’s scripture is this:
to us is born this day a Savior, the Messiah, the Lord. 

Personally, we ponder the seeming darkness.
We ponder our losses, our loneliness, our longing for change.
We ponder the darkness, and yet
God calls us here tonight to let the light of Jesus
seep into those dark cracks in our individual lives. 
Jesus’ light offers a heavenly peace
that is beyond our understanding.

Meister Eckhart said,
“Christmas is the birth of Christ within us
through the union of God’s spirit with our flesh.”[2]

We are birthing, tonight,
the light that heals us from dis-ease of fear,
the light that delivers us from bondage of selfishness,
the light that returns us from exile from loneliness.
Indeed, we proclaim this in our closing hymn,
“O little town of Bethlehem,” in which the last verse reads
“o holy child of Bethlehem, be born in us, today.”

Communally, we ponder the seeming darkness of our society. 
We ponder society’s voracious hunger for violence,
rapt attention to consumerism,
dependence on power to solve problems of the world,
just as Rome shaped Jesus’ world. 
We ponder this darkness and yet
God calls us to let the light of Jesus guide our community,
like the outcast shepherds,
to believe the peace of another world is possible.
of peace through justice,
of peace through simplicity,
of peace through compassion,
of peace through gentleness,
of peace through humility.

Personally and communally,
we experience the light of Christ by collaborating with God
to make the world a better place.
St. Augustine said,
“God without us will not, and we without God cannot.” 

Do not be afraid, the angel says.
Jesus is the light in the darkness, so follow that light, \and in so doing, we share the light with others.

The National Gallery of London retains a fantastic and
evocative image of light in the darkness called,
“The Nativity At Night.”[3]
The 15 Century painting portrays the dark winter night,
cold and without stars, lit only by glow of the newborn baby. 

The composition[4] of Nativity at Night shows
·        a brilliant baby Jesus in the center, glowing radiantly outward from his manger-crib. 
·        Young Mary kneels on the right, her face shining and her posture reverently kneeling before the manger-crib.
·        Joseph stands behind her, in the shade of the stable.
·        Several angels kneel on the left, their faces,
bathed in divine light, peer into the manger and their hands express child-like wonder. 
·        The doe-eyed ox and donkey faintly appear and look on with curiosity.
·        A tiny, bright angel zooms across the sky
like a shooting star, carrying the light of Christ
to the terrified shepherds in the distance,
who encircle a campfire to keep watch over their flock. 
·        The shepherds raise their arms in panic and in praise.
Their response, begun in worship,
moves out towards the deep darkness of the world
as they share the light they experience.

The inspiration of this piece,
St. Brigid’s vision of the luminous miracle,
describes Mary’s response to the birth in this way,
“…When the virgin felt she had already born her child,
she worshipped him, her head bent down
and her hands clasped with great honor and reverence
and said to him, “be welcome, my God, my Lord and my son.”

Indeed, “The Nativity at Night” expresses
profound theological truths.
The light of Jesus does more than point to his transcendence,
the light draws the viewer into the scene and
asks of us a response. 

The moment I saw this image in my coffee-table book,[5]
I ran to tell my friends about it. 
I was compelled to show it to several others,
expressing the joy and the relief and the mystery. 

That is the impulse of Christmas –
To tell out loud that the light has come.
To see the light in the mystery of our neighbor. 
To live into the words of the adult Jesus
“whoever follows me will never walk in darkness
but will have the light of life.”

Tonight, the source of peace, God’s word of wisdom,
has been made human, as hope incarnate. 
It is strange to be here. The mystery never leaves us.

For Jesus the Christ lives, moves
and has his being in our world and
the world lives, moves
and has its being in Christ. 
And nothing will be the same. 

As we ponder all these things – as we soom-bal’-lo – we can only respond

Glory to God on High and
Peace to God’s People on Earth!

[1] John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, (New York, HarperCollins, 1997) page xv
[2] Marcus Borg & John Dominic Crossan, The First Christmas: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus’s Birth, (New York, HarperOne, 1989) 237ff
[3] Summary information found at cited on December 20, 2013.
[4] Composition description inspired by The Rev. Dr. Grant Bayliss, University of Cambridge, at cited on December 20, 2013

[5] Susan A. Blain, Ed., Imaging the Word: An Arts and Lectionary Resource, Volume 2 (Cleveland, United Church Press, 1995) pages 96-99