Showing posts with label Isaiah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isaiah. Show all posts

Sunday, January 6, 2019

"A Different Way." A Sermon on Epiphany Sunday from Littlefield Presbyterian Church.


"A Different Way"

Matthew 2:1-12


The after-Christmas sales have been going on since December 26, and a lot of people in the wider society have moved past the celebrations of Christmas.  However, the church is on a different calendar.  There are twelve days of Christmas.  So today we’re celebrating the Epiphany, which actually falls this year on January 6.   In Latin America and parts of the Caribbean, Three Kings Day is the big celebration of Jesus’ birth.  And in the Eastern part of the Church, Epiphany is the important festival and celebrates the baptism of Jesus.
            In Matthew’s gospel, the Christmas birth narrative is told in the first chapter.  By the first verse of the second chapter, the shepherds are a distant memory.  When the mysterious seers from the East bring their gifts and worship, Jesus is almost two years old.   The holy family is settled in Bethlehem, raising their toddler.  
            On the road to Bethlehem are a group of magi-- Zoroastrian priests, who—despite what the song says-- weren’t kings.  Matthew doesn’t tell us how many there were. Maybe they were known as wise men- because of their skills in interpreting dreams and understanding astrology. They were searching the darkness of the sky...  following a star...  hoping to find the Christ child.  They left the comfort and security of their homes to travel through the desert on their quest. 
            When they saw that the star had stopped-- they were overwhelmed with joy!  They found the child Jesus...    and they knelt down and worshiped him.  Then they offered him their gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.
            In his story about the Magi, Matthew tells how some people responded to the birth of the Christ with joy and devotion. But woven into the story of the Magi's devotion is the story of Herod's reaction to the birth of the King of the Jews.  “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.” I think we can read between the lines to understand that when Herod was unhappy, the people in the region had reason to be concerned about what he might do.
            Herod knew that his kingdom would be threatened by a new king.  The possibility of not being in charge of the kingdom didn't bring him joy.  He was confused and afraid… “and all Jerusalem with him.”  If this child was really the Messiah-- it would change everything.
            In Matthew’s telling of the Nativity story, we hear a note of fear and opposition to the Messiah’s birth.   The news of the birth of a new “king of the Jews” threatens Herod’s power and the status quo. 
            Perhaps the fear and agitation were also about how the world might be changing, that God is doing something new, and that nothing can stay the same. 
            The arrival of these three astrologers is a sign that the reach of God’s embrace is broadening…that there is no longer “insider” and “outsider,” but that all are included in God’s mercy and salvation.  This isn’t a new theme in Judaism.  But now it is happening in ways that wise ones can see it.  Who knows what could happen next?
            Do you hear the given-ness of that event—the gift?   Do you hear the inclusive and universal nature of it?  What God did in and through Israel in Jesus is not only for Israel-- but for the whole world, for all people. 
            If we were listening carefully on Christmas Eve, we heard the angel say this to the shepherds:  this good news is for all people. 
            Some of us hear this as good news.  But for others, this more inclusive understanding of God’s salvation plan is troubling.  For those who are more privileged or powerful, the idea of change can cause a fearful response.   Herod had instructed the magi to come back and tell him where they’d found the Christ child.  But they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, so they traveled back to their own country by a different way.  An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and warned him the Herod would be searching for them and sent them to Egypt, so the Holy Family became refugees.
            Herod was so terrified of the promise that God would, in this child, restore peace and justice that he was willing to slaughter the infants of a whole region.  When he realized the magi hadn’t come back to tell him where the Christ child was, he ordered that all the children two years and under in and around Bethlehem be killed.  This reminded people of what had been written by the prophet Jeremiah:  “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children, she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.”[1]
            As David Lose suggests, such a grim account of wholesale massacre and desperate flights to safety would seem far-fetched were it not for similar atrocities and tragedies happening right now.[2]   How many Syrian refugee families have left everything behind in a desperate flight for safety?  How many children are starving to death around the world or dying of preventable illnesses?  How many families have fled the danger in their central American homes, desperately seeking asylum?  How many families are contending with their own sorrows and hardships?
            The light shines in the darkness, but there is still so much darkness in the world.   But Matthew wants us to know that in Jesus—Emmanuel—God has drawn near to us and came to live among us, full of grace and truth. 
            When life is beautiful and filled with goodness and grace, God is part of that, blessing us and celebrating with us.  When life is hard and painful and scary, God is part of that too, holding on to us, comforting us, blessing us with the promise that God will stay with us through the good and the bad, drawing us more and more deeply into God’s loving embrace…and promising that nothing—not even death—can separate us from God’s love.[3]
            Our scripture lessons for Epiphany are good news!  We hear the prophet Isaiah saying, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.”  No matter how dark things look to you now, look around.  You shall see and be radiant.  Your heart shall thrill and rejoice.”  
            The Gentiles from the East, these outsiders kneeling to worship the Christ child, remind us that to worship the Christ with them is to see humanity differently, as one family of God, and that the mission of the church is to nurture, promote, work for, and celebrate the oneness of the human family—not to divide it
            Here too we can learn from the Magi and how they responded to Christ’s birth.  The magi had to take another road home.  Not the most direct route, or the most convenient or comfortable. 
            Now that we have traveled to Bethlehem, things can be different for us
            I love the way Peter Gomes puts it: “For we have come from an encounter with the world of the possible in the midst of the impossible.  We have seen God…and survived to tell the tale, moving about not knowing that our faces shine with the encounter, bearing the mark of the encounter forever, and marveling in the darkest night of the soul at that wondrous star-filled night.”
            The world will change because we are changed.  We have seen God—not high and lifted up—but lowly and vulnerable.  God with us! 
            We have seen the reality and power of love to conquer hate and violence.  We have wondered at the mystery of life and love.  We have seen the Christ child, and nothing will ever be the same.
            We are changed.  And because we are changed, the world will change, gradually, as we live out our call to carry Christ’s light out into the world...  to let the light of the gospel shine through our lives
            Let the light in, live in it, and let your light shine…  That is the heart of the Christian life.
            Which brings us to this Table.  For here Christ, the Light of the World, offers himself to us in the gifts of bread and wine.  This table is open to all who have been claimed by Christ in baptism, all who come to be fed, all who desire to know the truth and power of Jesus.       
            So, come.  Taste and see…and feast in the radiant reality of Christ our Light.  May the Light of the World not only shine on your life, but live in and be reflected in you.
            Amen!


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
January 6, 2019

Sunday, December 9, 2018

"Prepare the Way." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on the Second Sunday of Advent


"Prepare the Way"

Luke 3:1-6


The time for John the Baptist to come out of the wilderness came in the 15th year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius.  Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod was ruling Galilee. Annas and Caiaphas were serving as high priests in the Temple in Jerusalem.  Luke places John in historical context, much like how the Old Testament prophets were introduced, placing him and his call to prepare the way for the Lord in the middle of worldly events and places.
He reminds us that God sends messengers in the center of our earthly life, too. In the second year of the presidency of Donald Trump, when Rick Snyder is Governor of Michigan, when Francis is the Pope in Rome, when J. Herbert Nelson is Stated Clerk of the Presbyterian Church (USA), we are reminded that no time is forsaken by God. All time is subject to God’s inbreaking. Prepare the way of the Lord!
Luke’s litany of government and religious authorities does more than date John’s ministry to 28 or 29 CE. It also contrasts human kingdoms with God’s reign. The claims to any authority that Tiberius or Herod or the high priest make are not ultimate.  God’s people owe allegiance first and foremost to God. And it is God’s word that sets John’s ministry in motion. John has been commissioned to prepare the way not for Caesar or any earthly authority, but for the one true Lord.
           The major focus for Luke is salvation, but it’s important for Luke that we understand the messy reality of the day-- to understand the world into which God is bringing salvation.  The word of God came to John in the wilderness, and spoke through John to a wounded and unjust world. 
            John proclaims a baptism of repentance that leads to release from sins.  The word that’s translated as “release” is the same word that Jesus uses twice in Luke 4 to describe his mission: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me…to proclaim release to the captives and…to let the oppressed go free….” 
The release that follows repentance doesn’t un-do past sins, but it does unbind people from them. It opens the way for a life lived in God’s service.  When John proclaims this release, he’s fulfilling his father Zechariah’s prophecy:  “You, child…will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness / release of their sins.”[1]
I agree with Judith Jones when she says that this salvation “looks like a new dawn for those trapped in darkness and death’s shadow. It is light that reveals a new path, the way toward peace.[2]         
The second Sunday of Advent invites us to anticipate the drawing close of the holy in our midst. The scripture texts invite us to listen to the voices of those calling us to be prepared to welcome the Messiah.  John the Baptist comes to us, proclaiming the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.
            God chooses a nobody—an itinerant preacher to call people to repent and to prepare the way.  John went into all the region around the Jordan River, proclaiming a baptism of repentance.  Luke quotes the prophet  Isaiah:
            “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
            ‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
            make his paths straight.
            Every valley shall be filled,
            And every mountain and hill shall be made low,
            And the crooked shall be made straight,
            And the rough ways made smooth;
            And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”[1]
            “All flesh.”  All people.  All humanity. 
Luke quotes Isaiah’s prophecy detailing what is required if all flesh is to see the salvation of God. Make straight desert highways. Valleys will be lifted up, and mountains made low.  
I like the way Jill Duffield describes this:  “A great leveling will occur. Rough places smoothed. Obstacles obliterated. Nothing will stand in the way, obscure or create a stumbling block for the coming of the Lord, for the gift of salvation. No one will be left behind, sacrificed because they are slow or infirm. All flesh shall see the salvation of God.”[3]
            On this second Sunday of Advent in 2018, John the Baptist calls to us to repent…to prepare the way of the Lord. What do we need to do to get ready?
            Whatever it takes will not be easy or painless. Transformation requires radical change, and change brings discomfort. Heeding John’s call means giving up our self-satisfaction or apathy or ambivalence. It means pushing past our fears and resistances, whatever gets in the way of submitting to the re-formation of God.
            Preparing the Lord’s path toward peace requires overturning the world as we know it. Luke’s gospel is full of images that help us envision what that means. Mary sings of the God who has looked upon her humble state, the One who saves by de-throning the powerful and exalting the humble…sending the rich away empty-handed and filling up the hungry.[4] Jesus blesses the poor and the hungry and those who mourn but announces woe for the rich and well-fed.[5]  On the Day of Pentecost Peter warns the people, “Be saved from this crooked generation.”[6] The word that’s translated as “crooked” is the same word that Isaiah uses for the things that need to be straightened out.
            Preparing for God’s arrival means re-thinking systems and structures that we see as normal—but that God judges as oppressive and crooked.  It means preparing to have God humble everything that is proud and self-satisfied in us, and letting God heal and lift up what is broken and beaten down. The claims that the world’s authorities make often conflict with God’s claims. God’s ways are not our ways. But God’s ways lead to salvation.
            What this re-shaping looks like is different from person to person, from congregation to congregation, from community to community, but it does require repentance…turning.  It can shake things up.
            John’s preaching of repentance will literally turn people away from the powers that be to God and it’s a threat to those invested in the present order. When we read further on in the story, we hear that John’s preaching will ultimately lead to his beheading, and later Jesus will be crucified by the empire. Those who are threatened by repentance and forgiveness and newness will not go without a fight.
            In the season of Advent, Christians prepare to celebrate a deep mystery of our faith, the Incarnation, how God came to live among us, full of grace and truth, in the person of Jesus.  Part of what Incarnation means is that God is with humanity and works in and through us. 
            I believe in a God who works in and with and through us, through the work of those who are learning to love as God loves, those who are learning to love peace as God does, those who love justice and mercy as God does.  Through those who are learning to reject violence in their own lives… and who work in small and large ways to end violence and hunger and injustice in our world…. 
            God isn’t finished with us yet. 
            Preparing the Lord’s path toward peace and justice requires changing the world as we know it.  Preparing for God’s arrival means re-thinking systems and structures that we may see as normal but that God condemns as oppressive and crooked.  It means letting God humble everything that is proud and self-satisfied in us,  and letting God heal and lift up what is broken and beaten down. 
            John’s call to repent reminds us that God’s ways are not our ways.[7]  John and Isaiah call us to open ourselves to let God work in our minds and hearts   and to let God work through us to re-shape the world’s social systems. 
            The good news is that God’s ways lead to salvation.  God’s glory will be revealed in Jesus, who comes to save us.  This is good news for us and for the whole world:   all flesh will see God’s salvation.  All humanity will see God’s salvation. 
            Thanks be to God!


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
December 9, 2018





[1] Luke 1:77
[2] Luke 1:78-79
[3] Jill Duffield, in “Looking Into the Lectionary, 2nd Sunday of Advent – December 9, 2018” at Presbyterian Outlook.  https://pres-outlook.org/2018/12/2nd-sunday-of-advent-december-9-2018/


[4] Luke 1:52-53
[5] Luke 6:20-26
[6] Acts 2:40
[7] Isaiah 55:8

Sunday, September 2, 2018

"Where's Your Heart?" A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church.

"Where's Your Heart?"

Mark 7:1-23; James 1:17-27



What’s at stake here?”
            Some biblical scholars argue that the conflict in this story mirrors a similar conflict in Mark’s community. Mark was a non-Palestinian Gentile, and he was writing to a mixed community of Jewish and Gentile Christians who were arguing over whether it was necessary to keep a kosher table at church gatherings.
            “’Don’t you understand?’” Mark asks. “’Don’t you see that whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile, since it enters, not the heart but the stomach, and goes out into the sewer?’”  Thus, Mark says, Jesus declared all foods clean.”
            Other commentators have a different take on what the conflict is about. They say it’s about teaching humanly constructed religious ideas as God’s law. “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.”  These scholars say the main point is about obeying God’s commandments, rather than human traditions and rules.
            But I agree with Tom Long when he says this is about using moral posturing to sidestep the commandments, that it’s about keeping our hands ritually washed while being up to our elbows in evil.[1]
            To paraphrase Walker Percy, it’s like getting an A-plus in ethics class and flunking life.

            What might this look like in our time?   Some government officials quote a verse from Romans 13 out of context to justify separating children from their parents at our borders, saying we are to obey the laws of the government, which has been ordained by God--which is one of the verses that has been used in the past to defend slavery and other evils.  Some people twist Jesus’ statement that we will always have the poor with us to justify not working to alleviate extreme poverty. They might say we can’t afford safety net programs that address hunger or homelessness, even though the richest people have received generous tax cuts,
            Can we understand why Jesus got angry with the Pharisees and the scribes, exclaiming, “Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written, and calling on the words of the prophet: ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. In vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.’”[2]

            Jesus was calling out the Pharisees and scribes for passing off human ideas as God’s commandments. 
            Now, the Pharisees were people who took their religion very seriously.  I believe they sincerely wanted to serve God faithfully. They were criticizing Jesus’ disciples for not living according to the tradition of the elders.
            Let’s back up a minute and remember the context of this encounter.  Just before this, Mark has told how Jesus fed 5,000 people… and walked on the water… and healed the sick. 
            The Kingdom of God is breaking out around them, and the Pharisees don’t seem to notice.  The sick are being healed.  The hungry are being fed.  Good news is being preached to the poor.  These are the things that Isaiah had prophesied that would be signs of the coming of the Messiah, but the Pharisees and scribes want to talk about hand washing and tradition. 
            A moment of GRACE is breaking into the midst of time and space.   Not only can’t the Pharisees and scribes see it-- but they keep asking the wrong questions.  They’re asking, “How can we protect our tradition?  How can we get folk to do things our way?
            Too often in the church, we ask the wrong questions.  How do we keep everybody happy?  How do we avoid conflict?  How will we survive?  “How do we make everybody follow our rules? How do I get everybody to do what I want?
            In the meantime, there are people inside and outside the church--people with broken hearts… broken dreams… and broken lives.  People who are lonely.  People who need to be restored to community.  People who need to be fed…and healed…and loved.

            Now, the process of spiritual growth is hard.  Sometimes it can be downright scary.  So, it’s no wonder that sometimes we, like the Pharisees, feel safer clinging to rules or traditions or familiar ways of doing things, rather than look for ways God is trying to use us to bring the kingdom of love and justice into the world.
           
            Jesus accused the religious authorities of being “hypocrites.”     The Greek word Mark uses for hypocrite has a revealing history.  It literally means an actor—a person who acts out a set dialog or script.
            In accusing the Pharisees of being hypocrites, Jesus was inviting them to put down the mask of outward appearances.  In giving them a list of things that can defile people, things which come from within, Jesus was challenging them to examine their own hearts honestly, and to pay attention to what’s really important.   We have been set apart as a holy people for a holy purpose:  to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, and mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.
            It’s much easier to point a finger at the sins of others than to look inward at the things that can defile.    Yet today’s gospel lesson makes it clear that we need to pay attention to where our hearts are.  
            But what does that look like?
            In the epistle lesson we heard today, James fleshes out Jesus’ summary of the Law and giving some specific ways we need to live into “the perfect law of liberty.”
            If we are to love our neighbors, then we need to be engaged with them, relating to them, and caring for them. That long list of vices Jesus quotes defile us because they all divide us-- from God and from each other, our neighbors.
            What does it mean for us to be holy, and "undefiled"? James offers an interesting definition in his letter:  "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for widows and orphans in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world."[3] James teaches that religious practice is judged on what we do.  Widows and orphans were the most vulnerable members of ancient societies; they had no means of support, no means of getting any, and no one to look out for them.  Caring for them means to attend to the needs of the poorest of the poor, those whom nobody else cares about or feels responsible for.  That is true religion, true holy conduct.  That is what we have been set apart to do.
            We know God partly through our traditions.  But we worship the one true God, the God of ever-ongoing creation… and new possibilities.   God overcomes sin and death with new life.
            Jesus came proclaiming that the Kingdom of God is near, calling people to repent, to change.
            In Jesus Christ, we have the perfect example of a person who is holy and whole.  The gospels tell us that Jesus went about preaching good news to the poor and release to the captives.  He taught by word and deed.  He blessed the children.  He healed the sick and ministered to the brokenhearted.  He ate with outcasts…forgave sinners…and called all to repent and believe the good news of God’s love and forgiveness.
            The world tries to set limits on what we believe is possible and sets boundaries that set us apart from “them.”   But Christ came breaking down the dividing walls and showing us that there is no such thing as a hopeless case.  There is nobody outside the circle of God’s love.   In Christ, there are no “others”—only neighbors.   Because God loves our neighbors, we are commanded to love them too.
            I like the way one of my colleagues puts it, in a sermon entitled, “Dirtiness is next to Godliness:” 
            Our hands are made clean and holy, not by washing them, but by getting them dirty.  Our hands have been set apart to reach out into the dirtiness of the world’s injustices and impurities on Christ’s behalf, to touch with compassion those considered untouchable or unclean by our social mores, cultural divisions, or political commitments. [4]
            As Teresa of Avila famously put it, "Christ has no body now on earth but yours… no hands but yours…  no feet but yours.  Yours are the eyes through which God’s compassion will look upon the world.  Yours are the feet with which God will go about doing good.  Yours are the hands with which God will bless others now."
            God has fully revealed God’s love for us in Jesus.  In response to that love, God wants us our love in return.  We are called to worship God through our total devotion…and through our ministry to all God’s children in need, as we love as Christ loves.  God’s way is a tradition of self-giving love.
            So, in the midst of the daily struggles and questions we face every day, may our hearts be in the right place.  May our hearts become more and more open to God’s love and life.  
            Amen.



Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
September 2, 2018




[1] Thomas G. Long, “Moral Words, Evil Deeds”, in The Christian Century. https://www.christiancentury.org/article/2009-08/moral-words-evil-deeds

[2] Isaiah 29:13, according to the Septuagint.
[3] James 1:27

[4] I’m indebted here to the Rev. J. C. Austin, in “Dirtiness is next to Godliness,” (Madison Avenue Pulpit, 2003), a sermon posted in the past at website that no longer exists.


Sunday, December 4, 2016

"Daring to Hope": A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on the 2nd Sunday of Advent.




"Daring to Hope"

Isaiah 11:1-10; Matthew 3:1-12




Here we are, only a few days into December, and we’re already headed into the second week of Advent.   There’s so much to do-- at home, at church and everywhere else.  There are gifts to be purchased and wrapped...cards to be addressed...cooking and baking to do...the house to clean... and decorating to do-- to deck the halls with boughs of holly and wreaths and candles. 
            In the midst of all the busy-ness, Advent invites us to wait… to pay attention… to prepare the way of the Lord… and to live in hope. 
            In the Hebrew scripture lesson, we heard the prophet Isaiah singing a song of hope 700 years before the birth of Jesus, in a time when things seemed hopeless.  His message must have sounded as unrealistic then as it does now.
The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie with down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them. . . .
They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain…
            The prophet Isaiah was probably writing in period of the Syro-Ephramite war, when the dynasty of David seemed like a mere dead stump, compared to its enemies.  The nation had been defeated and humiliated by another national power.  Their government was weak and ineffective, and the people were dejected and demoralized.    In the midst of all that, how do you live in hope?   Isaiah’s words must have seemed terribly unrealistic—as unrealistic as Isaiah’s words seem to a lot of people today.
            Enter the Spirit of the Lord—a new shoot is coming out of the dead stump of the monarchy.  That’s what the Spirit of the Lord does—it brings life where things have been dead… and brings forth new green shoots of life.
            Isaiah sings of a new kind of king—a king upon whom the Spirit of the Lord rests.  God’s Messiah will use his gifts to serve the people with equity and righteousness.
           
            Did you notice what the reign of the Messiah will be like?  The enmity that dominates the world is transformed into peace. 
            A great theologian of the last century, Reinhold Niebuhr, once wrote: “Do you want peace in this world?  Then work for justice.”  Until there is justice for everyone, there will be no peace.  For even a defeated enemy remains an enemy.  The only hope for peace is not the building up of more power to defeat and control—but power to make our enemies our friends. 
            Advent invites us-- dares us-- to wait in hope for the coming of the King who will use his power to “rule the world with truth and grace” and transform creation into a world in which every creature can live without fear. 
            Can you imagine a world without fear?   No fear in Syria or Iraq or Afghanistan…  no fear in Bethlehem or Jerusalem…  no fear in South Sudan.  No fear in homes from an abusive parent or spouse. No fear in our neighborhoods where innocent children have died to gun violence.
            “They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”   This is the promise and hope of Advent.
            But hope is a fragile and fleeting thing. 
            Fast forward seven hundred years or so.  Two hundred years had gone by since the people of Israel had had a prophet in their midst.   They’re living under occupation, with the Roman army enforcing the oppression of the Empire.
            Suddenly, John shows up in the wilderness, looking and sounding a lot like Elijah, who was expected to return to prepare the way for God’s coming Messiah.  “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” he says.  “Prepare the way of the LORD.  Make his paths straight.” 
            John’s call to repentance and preparing the way is a call to turn around and look for and hope in God’s future, which is breaking in on them.  It’s a call to commit to see our world as God’s world    and our future as God’s future, because that’s what repentance is about. 
            And yet, more than 2,000 years later, we are still waiting and longing.   
            The people of Palestine still live under occupation in a conflict that looks hopeless to a lot of people.  Syrians who were forced from their homes are living in terrible conditions in refugee camps in neighboring countries or are internally displaced or are refugees in search of a place where their families can be safe and make a new beginning. 
            Children in Flint are dealing with the long-term effects of lead poisoning.  In our own communities and communities around our nation, a parent can work 40 hours a week and still not be able to afford nutritious food and basic necessities for their children.
            In our nation, consumerism and individualism rule. Our political system is broken.  The gap between the very rich and the poor continues to widen.            
            And so, we still long for a time of righteousness and justice and peace.
            I’ve felt drawn to the images painted by Edward Hicks, a Quaker preacher and artist, who was so inspired by the vision in Isaiah 11 that he painted at least 66 “peaceable kingdom” paintings. 
            Can you imagine it?  A time when broken creation becomes the completely harmonious creation God intended?  Predators-- wolves, leopards, lions, and bears will live in harmony with the domestic animals like lambs, calves, goats, and cows.  Lions will eat straw like oxen, and a little child will play over the holes of poisonous snakes.  The earth will be filled with the “knowledge of the LORD.” 
            Jesus has come to live among us, full of grace and truth, and called us to follow him, living God’s way of love.  We are called to live differently, but we still live in a broken world where injustice and oppression are the norm.   
            So… how are we to live?  Do we give in to hopelessness and despair? 
            How are we to live as a community of faith?  Do we dare to live in hope, and practice trusting in God to provide what we need to carry out the mission to which we are called?  Or do we surrender to fear… and circle the wagons and just try to survive for a while?  These are all matters of faith.
            The struggle to end oppression and build a better world is complicated…hard… messy… and scary. 
            How do we live in the time between the vision and the final fulfillment?
            Do we dare to hope?  Can we trust in God’s promises?  Can we imagine a better world?  Can we believe in the possibility that injustice and oppression can be overcome, with God’s help?
            Jesus came and “proclaimed the reign of God: preaching the good news to the poor and release to the captives, teaching by word and deed and blessing the children, healing the sick and binding up the brokenhearted, eating with outcasts, forgiving sinner, and calling all to repent and believe the gospel.”[1] 
            To those living under the oppressive regime of the Roman Empire, Jesus taught and embodied a different way of being in the world that allowed even the marginalized and the poor to reclaim their identity as children of God.  To people whose identities had been shaped by centuries of living under exile and oppression of conquering empires, Jesus demonstrated that the empire doesn’t have the power to define who you are. 
            What Jesus proclaimed as a transforming message of hope has been spiritualized and distorted by some.   Jesus wasn’t preaching a gospel of pie-in-the-sky, escapist hope, but a way of living into God’s dream for us and being part of God’s will being done on earth as in heaven—in the day-to-day reality of life. 
            When we repent—when we turn away from the ways of the world and the empire and turn toward God’s way of righteousness and justice and peace, we find our lives changing.   The transformation Jesus talked about, we can no longer be content to exist under the old ways of the world.  
            God means for all God’s people to live in peace with one another with the whole creation.  God’s dream for us is for us to live together and to live lives of righteousness and justice.  But there is still a gap between the vision and reality. 
            We wait and hope for the time when God will fully bring in the Kingdom.  But we live into the Kingdom of heaven—the kingdom of justice and peace, as we work for a better world that more fully embodies God’s dreams.
            Sometimes it’s hard to see how things can be different… or how the little things we do can make a difference.   But sometimes new life emerges from the most unlikely places, emerging as a tiny green tendril out of a stump that looked dead.
            We live into hope in big and small ways when we change the life of a family by providing them with a goat or a flock of chickens with a gift to the Heifer Project.  We help schools and clinics in Palestine when we buy crafts from PalCraft Aid or fair trade Palestinian olive oil, and we let the people know that we have not forgotten them.
            When we buy fair trade chocolate, children in Africa and Latin America get to go to school, because their families earn a fair wage, and our purchase of fair trade coffee changes the lives of families.
            Shopping ethically and buying locally as much as possible makes a different to peoples’ lives and the environment.  Making choices to care for the environment and giving to aid global and domestic causes all make a difference, and they witness to our hope. 
            When we engage the powers by contacting our elected officials about issues that matter to us, we are daring to hope that we can make a difference.
            When we volunteer in our local schools, when we tutor a child or teach an adult how to read, we are living into hope.
            We live into hope because the Christ’s reign is among us now as we live into God’s dream for us, working for justice and peace for all of God’s beloved children.
            In this season of waiting, God comes to us and nudges us: “Look! Look -- there on the stump. Do you see that green shoot growing?”
            Can you see it?
Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
December 4, 2016


[1] “Brief Statement of Faith of the Presbyterian Church” (USA), 1990.