Watching and Waiting

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

December 28, 2014

Watching and Waiting

Luke 2:25-38

He was an old man,

his skin weathered and leathery,

his hands dry and rough.

Simeon had seen many years,

and the words of the Psalmist

grew louder with each phase of the moon:

The days of our life are seventy years,
or perhaps eighty, if we are strong;

(Psalm 90:9-10)

His eyes still glimmered, though,

glimmered with hope,

sparkled with life,

glowed with faith;

faith that God would let him live long enough

to see the fulfillment of the prophecy

spoken by Isaiah centuries before:

Look, the young woman is with child

and shall bear a son,

and shall name him Immanuel.

(Isaiah 7:14)

Those words played over and over in Simeon’s mind,

“the young woman…”

“…is with child…”

“…and shall bear a son.”

But what woman?

Where? When?

How would he know?

How would he know that the Messiah,

for whom he and so many others

had been waiting,

had been born,

had come into the world?

Simeon knew that most were looking for

a duplicate of King David,

a mighty warrior,

one who would stand strong against the Romans,

and defeat them with sword, spear, and shield.

But Simeon also knew that while God promised

a successor to King David,

God never spoke of the one to come

as a warrior.

                          

No, the Messiah who would come

would be a child born of a woman,

a root from the tree of Jesse,

just as the prophet had said so long ago:

“a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;

and he is named Wonderful Counselor,

Mighty God,

Everlasting Father,

Prince of Peace.

His authority shall grow continually,

and there shall be endless peace

for the throne of David and his kingdom.

Not a warrior, but a child,

who would grow into the Prince of Peace.

Still, the questions held Simeon tight in their grip:

what woman would give birth to the child,

and how would he recognize the mother

much less her son?

Simeon feared he would miss seeing the one

he had hoped for all the days of his long life.

In his calmer moments, though, he knew:

God is faithful;

God would tell him;

God would not let him

“see death before he had seen

the Lord’s Messiah.”

And when the time was right,

God honored his promise

through God’s Holy Spirit,

guiding Simeon to the Temple,

guiding him past all the others

who were there to offer sacrifices;

all the others who were there to do

as God had commanded of all God’s children

since the time of Moses:

“Consecrate to me all the firstborn.”

(Exodus 13:2)

Joseph and Mary, obedient in their faith,

brought Jesus to the Temple

40 days following his birth,

in accordance with the Law.

And as they entered, Simeon’s gaze,

guided by the Spirit,

turned to them,

turned past all the others;

Simeon saw only Mary and Joseph

and the baby.

Simeon approached them

and looked in Mary’s eyes,

and Mary could see immediately

that Simeon knew;

Simeon knew what she’d known in her heart

since the angel Gabriel had first spoken to her.

                                   

She didn’t hesitate a moment,

handing her newborn son to the elderly man,

who took the child in his arms,

tears of joy flowing from his eyes,

embracing the child, as he said,

“Master, now you are dismissing

your servant in peace,

according to your word;

for my eyes have seen your salvation,

which you have prepared

in the presence of all peoples,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles

and for glory to your people Israel.”

The promise made so long ago finally fulfilled:

Salvation had come into the world

for all peoples;

Jesus born for all,

all the world,

not just the people of Israel, the Jews,

but for all:

And he shall stand and feed his flock

in the strength of the Lord,

in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.

And they shall live secure,

for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth;

and he shall be the one of peace.  

(Micah 5:4)

The poet T.S. Eliot, captured Simeon’s joy,

Simeon’s peace, Simeon’s faith,

with his words:

“Lord, the Roman hyacinths are

blooming in bowls and

The winter sun creeps by the snow hills;

The stubborn season has made stand.

My life is light, waiting for the death wind,

Like a feather on the back of my hand.

Dust in sunlight and memory in corners

Wait for the wind that chills towards

the dead land.

Grant us thy peace.

I have walked many years in this city,

Kept faith and fast, provided for the poor,

Have given and taken honor and ease.

There went never any rejected from my door

…Grant us thy peace…

Let the Infant,

the still unspeaking and unspoken Word,

Grant Israel’s consolation

To one who has eighty years and no tomorrow.

…Grant me thy peace…

Let thy servant depart,

Having seen thy salvation.”

(“Song of Simeon”)

Simeon’s old eyes saw the future;

Simeon held the future in his arms,

the future not just of Israel, but of all,

Jew and Gentile alike.

Simeon held and saw the future

that the Lord God invited all the world

to embrace.

And moments later Anna too,

filled with the Spirit of God,

saw the same future,

light flooding a dark world,

through the child of a carpenter and his young wife.

Anna and Simeon had lived their lives

in faithful watching and waiting,

hoping and trusting,

obedient to the word and will of God.

Anna and Simeon saw God’s hope

for his children,

God’s future for his children.

They both saw,

as John would later write in his gospel,

that what had come into being in the child

was life,

and the life was the light of all people.

And they knew that the light would

shine in the darkness,

and the darkness,

as everpresent as it always had been,

and always would be,

would never be able to overcome the light,

for this light, the true light,

had come into the world to bring light to all.

The end of the Christmas story,

is the beginning of life,

new life for you and me.

We are like Simeon and Anna

living lives of watching and waiting,

lives of expectancy;

or at least we should be -

isn’t that the message, after all, of Advent?

The One born for us

is the One who will come again in glory,

Advent reminding us that we live

in the “in-between times”.

                 

But we are not to wait idly, of course.

We have work to do,

work we are called to do by our Lord Jesus Christ.

work reflecting the light of our Lord,

work bringing hope, peace,

light, and love

to every corner of the world.

We’ll do that in the year ahead,

individually and together,

just as we did in the year that’s about to end.

We’ll do it in countless ways,

each of us led by the Spirit,

each of us energized by the Spirit,

just as Simeon and Anna were so long ago.

We are invited by our Lord Jesus

to embrace God’s future,

for “Jesus brings us God’s future”

(J. Moltmann)

sets it before us,

invites us, bids us come.

It is a future where all are reconciled to God,

where all are reconciled with one another.

“See, I am making all things new”

are our Lord’s words from the book of Revelation,

but they are also words

our Lord speaks to us even now,

as he invites us to be transformed,

“in righteousness and holiness,

personally and in community…

with all the energies of the Spirit in us,

and in all the possibilities which God opens up for us.”

(J. Moltmann)

We, like Simeon and Anna,

have seen God’s salvation,

the light of revelation,

and glory for all the world.

We have received our Lord’s invitation

to God’s future.

Now, as we stand in the edge of the New Year,

we are ready to be dismissed,

so we can joyfully accept it.

AMEN

The Box

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

December 21, 2014

The Fourth Sunday in Advent

The Box

Isaiah 11:1-5

A shoot shall come out from the stock of Jesse,

and a branch shall grow out of his roots.

The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,

the spirit of wisdom and understanding,

the spirit of counsel and might,

the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.

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 of the earth;
he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.

Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist,

and faithfulness the belt around his loins.

Empty boxes, torn wrapping paper,

red, green, and white bows everywhere.

It was hard to see the floor for all the paper.

The children were mesmerized by their toys;

parents and grandparents admired their own gifts.

After the chaos of the grand opening,

a sense of calm prevailed.

A carol played quietly in the background,

“Glory to the new born king.”

It was the little girl who spotted the box.

It was still under the tree,

almost hidden behind it.

She crawled under the branches to retrieve it

and once she had it,

she stood up and showed the box to the others,

“Look –there’s one more present!”

The box appeared to be a perfect cube,

about a foot in height, depth, and width.

It was wrapped in bright red paper

patterned with green holly leaves;

it was tied with a green ribbon

and topped with a beautiful bow.

The little girl turned the box around and over,

and examined every inch of it.

“There’s no tag to tell who it’s for,

or who it’s from!” she said.

Her mother walked across the room

and looked at the box,

“It’s not from me – I don’t recall seeing it before.”

The father said the same thing;

so did the grandparents.

They all looked quizzically at one another.

Where did the box come from?

Who was it for?

Suddenly the little boy burst out,

“I wanna open it – let me open it!

Then we can see what’s inside.

Maybe there’s a card or something in the box!”

The mother handed the box to the little boy,

who didn’t hesitate a moment

before he started tearing at the wrappings,

paper flying everywhere.

Seconds later, the wrappings torn away,

the boy held up a simple white box

for all to see.

There were no markings on it anywhere –

nothing to tell what store the box came from,

and no tag on it to tell them

who the box was for,

or who it was from.

“Open the box!” shouted the little girl.

She grabbed the top of the box

and lifted it away

as her brother held the bottom.

They both looked into the box

and then in perfect unison

turned to their parents,

their faces filled with disappointment:

“IT’S EMPTY!

THERE’S NOTHING IN IT!”

The mother took the box,

and as she set aside under the tree,

said in a soothing voice,

“It was probably just a mistake –

one of us probably wrapped

an empty box by mistake.”

The children looked at one another;

They didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.

They were sure Santa’s elves

had a quality control system

that would never let an empty box

find its way under a Christmas tree.

                 

But then father stood up and said,

“It’s time to get this room cleaned up,

and then you kids need to get dressed

before the others arrive.”

They picked up all the wrappings, the bows,

and all the boxes,

and took them out to the recycling bin;

all, with one exception.

They left the empty white box under the tree –

the box open,

the top next to it.

Later in the day,

the family was gathered around the table

enjoying a wonderful Christmas dinner.

Ham and turkey and potatoes and gravy

and beans and salads,

platters and plates clattering rhythmically.

Everyone was eating, talking,…laughing;

joy filled the room

as music played,

a choir singing, “Let every heart prepare him room.”

Suddenly the little boy shouted out,

“I know who the box is for!

It’s for Jesus!

It’s his birthday.

He should get a present!”

His sister rolled her eyes and said to him,

“How could it be a present for Jesus?

It was just an empty box.

What kind of a birthday present is that?”

The little boy was not going to be discouraged

or dissuaded.

He ran into the other room,

grabbed the box,

and brought it back to the table.

He pushed aside the bowl of mashed potatoes,

and placed the box next to the green bean casserole.

“It’s an empty box for us to fill,” he said.

“It’s a box for us to give Jesus a present,

each of us.

We’re supposed to put something in the box.

All of us,

a present for Jesus.”

All the adults around the table looked at one another,

wondering how to respond to the little boy,

wondering what to do.

The little boy beamed as he said,

“I’ll go first.

I know what I want to give Jesus.

And then you each give Jesus a present,

Each of you put your present in the box.”

What do you suppose the little boy put in the box?

What do you suppose he gave Jesus?

What do you suppose the adults did?

Did they go along with the little boy,

or did they turn their attention to

dessert and coffee?

A few weeks ago,

I talked with our children about

hanging a stocking for Jesus.

We talked about what to put in the stocking.

We agreed that Jesus wasn’t interested in a football,

or a video game,

or a bicycle.

We talked about the gifts that we thought

Jesus would like:

love,

friendship,

goodness,

kindness,

peace,

compassion.

The Wise Men brought Jesus gifts fit for a king:

gold, frankincense and myrrh.

But we don’t need to give Jesus gifts like that.

Who doesn’t know the song,

“The Little Drummer Boy”

with its “pa rum pum pum pum.”

The little drummer said to the newborn baby,

“I am a poor boy, too,

with no gift to bring…

Shall I play for you?”

And the boy played,

played his drum as his gift,

played his best

for the baby lying in the manger.

The beautiful carol, “In the Bleak MidWinter”

follows the same thread:

“What I have, I give him:

my heart, my heart.”

Christmas is Jesus’ birthday,

and we should hang a stocking for him.

Even better,

we should have a birthday box for him,

a box in which we each offer our gifts to Jesus:

our hearts,

our best,

our lives,

our selves.

“… see—I am bringing you good news of great joy

for all the people:

to you is born this day … a Savior,

who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

(Luke 2:10)

These are the words the angel spoke to the shepherds;

these are the words God’s angel speaks to us, now,        

telling us of the gift we’ve received:

“to you,

each of you,

all of you,

is born the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord.”

How will you respond to the gift given you?

What gift will you offer in return?

And not just on Thursday,

but each day, all through the year.

Do you remember what Ebenezer Scrooge

promised near the end of the story:

“I will honor Christmas in my heart,

and try to keep it all the year.”

                 

What will you put in the box?

Will your gift be Forgiveness?

Kindness?

Compassion?

Generosity?

Tolerance?

        

Will you remember that sharing your gift with another,

be it friend, stranger, or even enemy,

will be sharing your gift with Jesus?

We have received “grace upon grace”

(John 1:16)  
in the gift given us by God

on that first Christmas day;

Now it is our turn,

yours and mine,

to offer our gifts,

our birthday presents,

to our Lord Jesus Christ.

What will your gift be?

What will you put in the box?

AMEN

M.E.C.

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

December 14, 2014

The Third Sunday in Advent

M.E.C.

John 1:6-8, 19-28

No camel’s hair garment;

no locusts and wild honey for lunch;

no wild-eyed ranting

from the banks of the Jordan river.

The gospel of John paints a very different picture

of the one Matthew calls, “John the Baptist”;

the one Mark calls “John the baptizer”;

the one Luke calls “John the son of Zechariah.”

In this gospel we find just “John.”

John simplified.

In contemporary terms: “John unplugged”.

We find John the man who understood his calling;

who understood that he was to testify;

who understood that he was to point to the light;

who understood that he was

to point to the light that was coming into the world.

His was a voice crying out in the wilderness,

“Make straight the way of the Lord,”

for John knew that the Lord was coming;

John knew that the light was coming;

John knew that “the life [was coming]

that was to be the light of all people.”

(John 1:3)

The centuries have not silenced John –

he calls to us here and now:

“Look”, he says to us,

“Come and see!”

(John 1:46)

Come and see the Light

that has come into the world!

John knew that he was not the light;

but he also knew

that he was called to testify to the Light.

The Light that first shone in the stable in Bethlehem;

the Light that traveled the dusty roads of Judea,

“Bringing good news to the oppressed,

binding up the brokenhearted,

proclaiming liberty to the captives,
and release to the prisoners;

and comforting all who mourned.

John knew he was to testify to the Light that

healed the sick

fed the hungry;

gave hope,

gave life.

John knew that this was the Light

that would shine even in the darkness.

John knew that this was the Light

that nothing could dim,

nothing could extinguish,

not even Cross or Tomb.

We are followers of the Light

and we are also descendants of John,

which means we too are called to point to the Light;

We too are called to testify to the Light.

We too are called to tell all

the good news of the Light.

Tell the good news –

do you know that is?

That’s evangelizing!

Evangelizing!

That’s a word we Presbyterians

aren’t all the comfortable with.

But the word means nothing more than good news,

and we are called to share the good news

of the Light.

We are to do that through our words;

but even more, we are to do that

through our lives,

through how we live our lives,

reflecting the light through our own lives.

We think that to evangelize means we are to go out

and convert,

as though we are called to push people to the Light.

But the scholar David Bartlett

puts it just right in saying,

“The true evangelical Christian

does not seek to push, …, coerce,

…or even charm another into faith.

The truly evangelical Christian…

keeps pointing to Jesus,

saying, just like John,

‘here he is’.

‘Come and see.’

Come stand in the Light with me!”

Evangelism is something we should do with joy,

for we have good news to share,

just as John did so long ago:

The Light has come into the world and

“the eyes of the blind will be opened;

the ears of the deaf unstopped;

the lame shall leap like a deer;

the tongue of the speechless [will] sing for joy.”

MPC: Manassas Presbyterian Church

should also be MEC: Manassas Evangelical Church,

all of us testifying joyfully

through words, worship,

the ministries we do,

and the lives we live.

You and I are called to embody the light,

to reflect the light

as we live with grace,

compassion,

kindness,

peace, and humility.

As one writer put it,

“Every one of us is…part of the dust-laden air

[called to] radiate the glowing epiphany of God,

[called to ]catch and reflect the golden Light…”

(Evelyn Underhill)

Our Lord himself reminds us

that you and I are the light of the world;

and that no one after lighting a lamp

puts it under a bushel basket,

but puts it on a lampstand,

so that it can give light to all the house.

So, in the same way

we are to let our light shine before others.

(Matthew 5:16)

Still, we all have our moments of darkness,

moment when we walk through darkness,

feel ourselves trapped in darkness:

times of fear, of illness,

of loneliness, of hopelessness.

But then, as the prophet tells us,

“The people who walked in darkness

have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness—
on them light has shined….

For a child has been born for us,

a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

His authority shall grow continually,
and there shall be endless peace
for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it

with justice and with righteousness

from this time onward and forevermore.

(Isaiah 9:2ff)

We are led out of the darkness,

even the deepest darkness,

by the one John testifies to,

by the one we sing of each Christmas as

“love’s pure light”

                 

The voice is calling out to us now,

just as resolutely as it did 2000 years ago.

a voice that is more than just John’s voice,

it is a blending of all the voices

of all the prophets, saying to us,

“Arise, shine!

For our light is about to come,

and the glory of the Lord about to rise upon us.”

Make straight the way of our Lord,

that you might walk in the light.

Make straight the way of the Lord

that you might reflect his light.

Make straight the way of the Lord

that you might tell others of the Light.

Make straight the way of the Lord,

“and then you shall see and be radiant,

your heart shall thrill and rejoice….

the sun shall no longer be your light by day,

nor the moon by night,

but the Lord will be your everlasting light.”

(Isaiah 60)

                 

This is the word of the prophet.

This is the Word of the Lord.

Glory to God!

AMEN

What Will You Do?

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

December 7, 2014

The Second Sunday in Advent

What Will You Do?

Isaiah 40:1-11

“Comfort, oh comfort my people,”

says your God.
“Speak softly and tenderly to Jerusalem,

but also make it very clear

That she has served her sentence

that her sin is taken care of —  forgiven!

She’s been punished enough and more than enough,

and now it’s over and done with.”

Thunder in the desert!

“Prepare for God’s arrival!
Make the road straight and smooth,
a highway fit for our God.

Fill in the valleys,

level off the hills,

Smooth out the ruts,

clear out the rocks.

Then God’s bright glory will shine

and everyone will see it.

Yes. Just as God has said.”

A voice says, “Shout!”
I said, “What shall I shout?”

“These people are nothing but grass,

their love fragile as wildflowers.
The grass withers,

the wildflowers fade if God so much as puffs on them.

Aren’t these people just so much grass?

True, the grass withers and the wildflowers fade,
but our God’s Word stands firm forever.”

Climb a high mountain, Zion.

You’re the preacher of good news.

Raise your voice. Make it good and loud, Jerusalem.
You’re the preacher of good news.

Speak loud and clear. Don’t be timid!

Tell the cities of Judah,

“Look! Your God!”
Look at him! God, the Master, comes in power,
ready to go into action.
He is going to pay back his enemies

and reward those who have loved him.

Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock,

gathering the lambs in his arms,
Hugging them as he carries them,

leading the nursing ewes to good pasture.

(from The Message)

You’ve bought your gifts for the UnTrim-a-Tree;

you’ve brought food for the Serve pantry;

you’ve returned your form for the Christmas Eve

fruit donation;

you’ve put money in a Salvation Army bucket;

you’ve sent a check or two to worthy charities;

you’ve bought gifts from the Advent Market;

perhaps you bought your Christmas cards

from UNICEF,

or the Humane Society, or a hospital.

We hear the message that Advent is a time

for preparation,

a time for watching and waiting,

and we all try to be mindful, attentive, aware.

We all try to do what we can

to prepare our hearts,

to prepare ourselves

for the coming of our Lord.

But this is such a busy time of year,

and there is so much to do.

There are presents to buy,

cards to send,

homes to make ready,

travel plans to finalize.

And all those things come on top of

our already busy lives

filled with work, school,

families, homes,

activities –

so many things we often feel overwhelmed,

and exhausted.

And now here is yet another call,

one more thing that we’re being asked to do,

to fit into an already overstuffed lives:

“Make the road straight and smooth,

a highway fit for our God.

Fill in the valleys,

level off the hills,

Smooth out the ruts,

clear out the rocks.”

For everything else we are already doing,

are we also being called to a construction project,

called to get behind the wheel of a bulldozer,

or wield a trowel, a pick, or a shovel?

The prophet Isaiah was speaking

more than 2500 years ago,

when the Babylonian exile had come to an end.

The Persians had routed the Babylonians,

the Babylonian empire collapsed,

and the people of Israel

were told they could return to their land,

return home.

But the people who would make the long journey

from the banks of the river Chebar

back to Judah and Israel,

were going back to a land they did not know,

a land they’d only heard about from their parents,

their grandparents, their aunts and uncles.

After almost 70 years in exile,

those who were going back

were men, women and children

who’d known only life in exile.

Still, the message to them was clear:

go home,

back to the land of your ancestors.

Go back.

Rebuild your homes,

your farms,

your businesses,

your lives.

And one more thing:

Go back and rebuild your faith, as well.

Rebuild the highway between you and God.

Go back and even as you rebuild

all the other parts of your lives,

make straight the highway

between your heart and God.

Where your ancestors made their roads

winding, twisting,

filled with roadblocks and detours,

choked with the weeds of distraction and neglect,

make yours smooth, strong, straight.

The Lord God has forgiven

the sins of the past,

the sins of your ancestors.

Just don’t make the same mistakes

your ancestors made,

mistakes that separated them from God.

This was the message the prophet was called

to speak to the people.

But the prophet wondered,

Why should I bother?

Are these people really any different

from their ancestors?

Won’t they do the same things as their parents,

their grandparents?

Wont’ they make the same mistakes,

and let life distract them away from God?

People are very consistent

in having inconsistent faith.

“It doesn’t matter,”

was the Lord’ God’s response.

The people returning from exile,

their children,

their children’s children,

even their descendants in faith

sitting centuries later in a church

on the other side of the world

in a place called Manassas,       

will most certainly be

consistent in having inconsistent faith.

But the Word of the Lord will be consistent;

The Word of the Lord will remain

consistent, constant;

and the word of the Lord is:

forgiveness,

mercy,

compassion,

grace and love.

Just five chapters earlier,

Isaiah prophesied the hope-filled future

that lay ahead for the children of God:

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,
and rejoice with joy and singing.
…They shall see the glory of the Lord,
the majesty of our God.

Strengthen the weak hands,

and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,

‘Be strong, do not fear!

…Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

then the lame shall leap like a deer,

and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
and streams in the desert…

A highway shall be there,
and it shall be called the Holy Way;

… it shall be for God’s people;

no traveller, not even fools, shall go astray.
…And the ransomed of the Lord shall return,
and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;

they shall obtain joy and gladness;

and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”

(Isaiah 35)                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

        

This is the promise God graces us with in Advent,

the promise of hope,

the promise of joy,

the promise of peace.

And the stronger the highway we build

between ourselves and God

the more we will know this.

Of all the characters who walk the stage

this time of year,

perhaps it is the innkeeper

who mirrors us most accurately.

We know virtually nothing about him

other than the fact

that he turned away Joseph and Mary,

turned them away for what sounds like

a perfectly good reason:

the inn was full,

there wasn’t a room to be had.

        

What was in the innkeeper’s heart that evening?

What was on his mind as Joseph knocked on the door?  

Surely the innkeeper was not callous or cruel;

surely he was a man of faith, even inconsistent faith.

Was he focused on the inn he had to run?

The family he had to look after?

The living he had to make?

The guests he already had?

The innkeeper seemed to show a
glimmer of goodness,

some bit of compassion,

in not sending Joseph and Mary away,

telling them they were welcome to shelter

in the stable behind the inn.

                                            

Still, where was he when the baby was born?

Where was he when the shepherds came noisily

to rejoice?

Was he busy with his account book?

Was he attending to the needs of his guests?

Was he too tired to be bothered?

Clearly, he hadn’t prepared the highway,

hadn’t prepared his heart or himself

for God’s arrival.

                                                                                         

Our lives can get so full that before long

we “finally have eyes for nothing else,”

and we lose sight of the highway,

lose sight of God,

lose sight of the baby born for us;

lose sight of the Kingdom that awaits

in our Lord’s Advent.

Come, and prepare yourself;

Come and prepare yourself

for the advent of our Lord

here at our Lord’s Table.

Here you will find nourishment to help you build,

help you rebuild,

help you to make ready.

Here you will find nourishment to help you

Make the road straight and smooth,

a highway fit for our God.

Here you will find nourishment to help you

Fill in the valleys,
level off the hills,

Smooth out the ruts,

clear out the rocks.

Come.

Come to this table, all God’s children,

and “Prepare for God’s arrival!
that God’s bright glory might shine
and everyone see it.”

AMEN