Sunday, December 25, 2011

Christmas Day

Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
December 25, 2011

John 1:1-14
In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.
He was in the beginning with God.
All things came into being through him,
and without him not one thing came into being.
What has come into being in him was life,
and the life was the light of all people.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.
He came as a witness to testify to the light,
so that all might believe through him.
He himself was not the light,
but he came to testify to the light.
The true light, which enlightens everyone,
was coming into the world.
He was in the world,
and the world came into being through him;
yet the world did not know him.
He came to what was his own,
and his own people did not accept him.
But to all who received him,
who believed in his name,
he gave power to become children of God,
who were born, not of blood
or of the will of the flesh
or of the will of man,
but of God.
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.

Keep Christmas in your heart always 
that you might live always in its hope.
Amen

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Of All People, Why Them?

 The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
December 18, 2011
Fourth Sunday in Advent

Of All People, Why Them?
Luke 2:8-20

We have such a gauzy, pastoral image of shepherds:
gentle souls watching over their flocks in the heat of the day
and the chill of the night,
bravely protecting their sheep from predators,
leading them to pastures where grass is plentiful
and water abundant,
wiling away the hours playing their flutes and harps,
as adorable lambs gambol and frolic.

The Bible is filled with references to shepherds,
well over one hundred,
and almost all glow with praise.

What was Moses before he led the children of Israel
out of bondage?
When the Lord called to him from the burning bush,
he was tending his flock.

What was David before he became a mighty warrior
and then King of Israel and Judah?
A young man who learned how effective
a rock and sling could be
against any animal intent on picking off
a stray lamb for supper.

David himself sang of God as watchful shepherd
when he wrote those words we know so well:
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want
he makes me to lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside still waters.”

Speaking through the prophet Jeremiah,
God said to his children:
“I will give you shepherds after my own heart,
who will feed you with knowledge and understanding.”
(Jeremiah 3:15)

In his recounting of Jesus’ birth,
Matthew reminds us of the prophecy that
came from God through Micah:
“And from you Bethlehem shall come a ruler,
who is to shepherd my people Israel.”
(Matthew 2:6)
“He shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord.”
(Micah 5:4)

Shepherd strong and proud,
crook solidly in hand,
leading, guiding,
tending, protecting.

And yet, back when Joseph and Mary
sought in vain a room for the night
shepherds were looked upon as filthy, ignorant men;
men who were dishonest
as they led their flocks to graze
wherever they could find grass and water,
even if was someone else’s private property.

A shepherd’s life was hardly romantic,
hardly the stuff of poetry.
It was dirty work,… lonely, dangerous.
A shepherd worked under the baking sun
and through the cold of night.
He worked far from others;
the foul smell of the fold
deep in clothes, hair,
even the skin.
Shepherds were outcasts;
they were unwelcome;
they were despised.

So this leads to the question,
if shepherds were thought of with such contempt,
then why did the angel choose them,
of all people,
choose them to visit on that first Christmas?
Choose them to hear the glorious message,
“I am bringing you good news of great joy
for all the people:
to you is born this day
in the city of David a Savior,
who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
(Luke 2:10)

Why did the angel say to the shepherds,
to you is born this day … a Savior…”?
To you, in all your dirt, your smell,
your feet caked in muck and mud,
the Savior is born this day – to you,
for you.

Surely the angels could have found better company
had they simply roused the people of that inn
where there had been no room for Joseph and Mary.
Surely there the angels could have found men and women
who at the very least didn’t smell rank and foul.
And how much easier for all involved:
The men and women could have walked out the back door,
taken a few steps and found the stable
where the baby lay in the manger.
No need to run the long distance from the countryside.
    
Why didn’t the angels bring their news to
the merchants, the businessmen,
the teachers, the rabbis,
the respected, the educated,
the prominent,
the important people of Bethlehem?

Why the shepherds,
men who lived literally and figuratively
on the very edge of society?

But of course,
the very fact that they were outcasts
is at the heart of the message
given us by God in the birth of Christ,
the message Mary herself anticipated
as she sang her praise to God
after she learned she would bear the Son of God:
“God will lift up the lowly
and send the rich away empty”
(Luke 1:51)

In bringing the good news to the shepherds,
God made clear that what we value,
what we consider important,
and what God values and considers important
are often not the same.

The prophet Isaiah reminds us how much like sheep we are,
for “all we like sheep have gone astray,
we have all turned to our own way.”
(Isaiah 53:6)
You and I need a shepherd to lead us, to guide us,
to help us find our way back to the fold
when headstrong and so sure of ourselves
we wander off,
filled with determination to do our own will
rather than God’s will.  

It fits the message of the gospel
that the angels would say:
to you the shepherd,
to you the outcast,
to you the lowly,
is born a Savior, a Messiah,
the Lord Jesus Christ.
For surely,
made as you are in God’s image,
you are worthy,
worthy of God’s love, of God’s goodness,
of God’s boundless grace.

Time and time again,
one example after another,
God shows his love for all humanity
through the outcast,
through the lowly,
through even the scoundrel.

In Matthew’s gospel the birth narrative begins in chapter one,
but not till we get to verse 18.
We tend to skip over the first 17 verses
as unimportant, not essential to the story.
Those seventeen verses are a genealogy of Jesus,
showing how he descended from King David,
who descended from Abraham.
They are seventeen verses filled with names
many of which are difficult to pronounce,
and in older versions of the  Bible,
the names are strung together by that word that makes
even the most serious person laugh:   
“begat”.

We’d expect such a list to be a record of saints,   
holy men, pious and pure,
models of how to live faithfully as children of God.

But if we look carefully,
what we will find are men –
and some women –
who have more in common with shepherds
than they do with cloistered saints.

The list is heavy with the flawed, the failed,
the fumbling, and the foolish:
Jacob the liar and thief;
Judah, who sold his brother Joseph into slavery;
Jesse, who failed to see any potential in his youngest son David;
David, an adulterer, a murderer;
Rehoboam, faithless and cruel. 
And on goes the list.

It is a list that reminds us
of the wideness of God’s grace,
of God’s goodness,
of God’s mercy and kindness given to shepherds,
to rogues and cheats and liars,
given to you and me,
the love of God given us all
by the grace of God.  
This is the glorious news of Christmas!

On a cold’s winter’s night long ago in Bethlehem,
the sky spangled with the lights from a billion stars,
as shepherds watched over their flocks.
Suddenly the sky was ablaze with light and sound
as the heavens erupted in music of the heavenly host:
“Glory to God in the highest!
Glory to God in highest heaven!”
For to you is born this night a Savior
to you, shepherd, baker, carpenter,
teacher, banker, merchant, doctor,
student, mother, father, sister, brother
for to you all the world is born the Savior.

And “He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
or decide by what his ears hear;
but with righteousness he shall judge the poor
and decide with equity for the meek;…
righteousness shall be the belt around his waist,
and faithfulness the belt around his loins.”
(Isaiah 11)

This is the glorious news the shepherds heard that night
and this is the glorious news we hear:
a Savior born for you and me,
love come down from heaven,
given us by the grace of God.

How can our response be any different
than the shepherds’,
any less enthusiastic,
any less excited for what we’ve been given?
Our voices joining those of the shepherds,
those of the angels,
all singing in joyful praise:
“Glory to God!
Glory to God in the highest!
Glory to God in highest heaven!”
                 
AMEN

Sunday, December 04, 2011

Easy to Answer, Hard to Do

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
December 4, 2011
Second Sunday in Advent

Easy to Answer, Hard to Do
2 Peter 3:8-15

But do not ignore this one fact, beloved,
that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years,
and a thousand years are like one day.
The Lord is not slow about his promise,
as some think of slowness,
but is patient with you,
not wanting any to perish,
but all to come to repentance.
But the day of the Lord will come like a thief,
and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise,
and the elements will be dissolved with fire,
and the earth and everything that is done on it
 will be disclosed.
Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way,
what sort of persons ought you to be
in leading lives of holiness and godliness,
waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God,
because of which the heavens will be set ablaze and dissolved,
and the elements will melt with fire?
But, in accordance with his promise,
we wait for new heavens and a new earth,
where righteousness is at home.
Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things,
strive to be found by him at peace,
without spot or blemish;
and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation.
So also our beloved brother Paul wrote to you
according to the wisdom given him

Well, there it is, the question.
Did you hear it?
It’s there, buried in the text,
buried in the midst of blazing heavens and melting earth:
“what sort of person ought you to be”
as you wait for the coming of our Lord?

What sort of persons ought we each to be
as await the advent of our Lord?

It’s an odd question since the author of the letter
assumes we are living lives of holiness and godliness;
he seems to answer the question even as he asks it.
we cannot just take the words on face value.
We have to look at context.

This letter we attribute to Peter
was most likely written by someone other than Simon Peter,
the fisherman, the rock.
In fact, it was probably written after Peter had died.

The letter is thought to have been written
after the entire first generation
of followers of Jesus had died,
as the second generation,
those who had not walked with Jesus,
those who had not known Peter or Paul,
Thomas or Matthew,
struggled to define discipleship,
struggled to come to a fuller understanding of
what it meant to be a “Christian”,
a follower of Jesus Christ,
a follower of the Savior whose return
they eagerly awaited.

The first generation expected Jesus
to return in their lifetime;
Even as Jesus was telling his followers
to keep alert, keep awake,
for that day when he would come like a thief in the night,
he was also telling them,
“there are some standing here
who will not taste death
until they see that the kingdom of God has come…”
(Mark 9:1)
Indeed, “this generation will not pass away
until all these things have taken place.”
(Mark 13:30)

Paul reinforced this idea of Jesus’ imminent return
in his letters as well:
keep alert, stay awake, he said,
for the advent of Christ will surely happen in our lifetime.  

But days of waiting turned to weeks,
and weeks into months,
and months into years,
and years into decades;
and Jesus did not return.

And as the years passed,
life became more difficult and  more dangerous,
for followers of Christ.
By the end of the first century,
about the time this letter was written,
persecution of Christians had become
the accepted practice throughout the Roman Empire.
False prophets seemed to be everywhere;
                                            
What to believe; whom to believe,
how to keep hope alive,
how to keep faith alive - 
how even to stay alive became –
these were greater concerns to Christians
than making oneself ready for Christ’s return.

In stepping into Peter’s sandals,
the author of our letter resorted to a bit of sleight of hand
in his effort to address these very real concerns.
We may raise an eyebrow at what seems to be
a bit of disingenuousness,
but the result is a timeless letter,
a letter with words that can help us
to stand in holy hope
even as we await the return of our Lord.

It is, after all, so easy for us
to say in faith that we believe
that Christ will come again,
 even as we think to ourselves
that it isn’t going to happen anytime soon,
that we have plenty of time to sort out our lives.
At the very least, we can probably push things off
until after the holidays,
because certainly God knows how busy we all are, right?

This is the dilemma we have,
that we live in the in-between time,
the time between Christ’s birth,
and Christ’s  coming again,
and neither we nor anyone else
has any idea how long this in-between time will last.

But the longer the time lasts,
the easier it is to lose focus,
even to lose heart.
So, the letter writer calls us back,
back to where he knows we need to be:
to lives of holiness,
lives of godliness,
back to striving so that when Christ does come,
we will be found “at peace, without spot or blemish.”

God’s time is not our time
and the reason for God’s patience
is known only to God,
but it isn’t so we can grow complacent.
To presume we’re fine,
that our ticket is in order,
is to presume too much;
we have work to do while we wait.
Work to do in the world,
work to do with ourselves.

John the Baptizer reminds us that our daily task
is to make straight the way of the Lord,
to work to make the uneven ground level
and the rough places a plain
as we build the foundation for the Kingdom here and now,
working for righteousness,
working for justice,
all as we “bear fruit worthy of repentance.”

If John the Baptizer were to confront us here and now,
what do you suppose he would say to you and me?
Would he compliment us on our holy and godly lives?
I fear he would be even more outraged with us
than he was with those who came to him two thousand years ago,
outraged at the ever-increasing numbers of men, women and children
living in poverty, who struggle to feed themselves,
house themselves, keep themselves warm;
outraged that we just shrug and say,
that’s how the free market works,
outraged at the growing inequality in our country,
in the world,
outraged at our ready willingness to sacrifice God’s creation
for our own comfort,
for the sake of business,
outraged that we are not working more faithfully
to create a world of righteousness,
of justice,
of grace and love.
                          
God’s patience is built, our lesson tells us,
on God’s hope in us and for us,
that we will embrace more fully,
more completely the life God wants for us,
the life God created us to live.

John the Baptizer, the author of second Peter,
our Lord himself all teach us
that God wants nothing less than our transformation
as we give ourselves more and more completely
to the one given us,
the one who gave himself for us.
As Methodist Bishop and author William Willimon put it,
“God  [wants] to transform us into the people
we hadn’t really thought about being.”

This is our Advent gift,
our Advent opportunity:
to embrace afresh the life to which we have been called,
to embrace afresh the call to transformational discipleship
that can lift us to a new level of holiness,
a new level of godliness.

So come to this Table and embrace this gift;
come to this table and embrace this call,
this life.
And then, when you go from this Table,
fed, nourished,
transformed,
make Paul’s words to the Galatians your own:
“It is not I who live,
but Christ who lives in me,”
as you let Christ live more fully in and through you,
as you live a more holy, godly life.
    
Then, as you walk through the days of Advent,
the days of Christmas,
and all the days after into the new year,
you will be able to sing with confidence,
with hope,
with deeper faith:
O Come O Come Emmanuel.  

AMEN