Yet, O Lord

 Isaiah 64:1-9

            Ah, another Advent season has arrived.   It has arrived on our church calendars and it has arrived yet again in our hearts and minds.    With our bodies full of thanksgiving and the Black Friday brouhaha behind us, we now focus on this special, sacred time set apart for us as faithful individuals and as a believing community to prepare for Christmas.  It’s time to really ready ourselves for the sacred reason of this season!   When we are intentional about taking this time to spiritually prepare for the “celebration of Christ’s birth in ancient Bethlehem,” we can come to realize that “Christ is reborn in the Bethlehems of our homes and daily lives.”[i]

            Specifically and biblically, we intentionally prepare by spending four weeks reflecting on what the coming – the advent -- of our Emmanuel, of God with us, of Jesus, means for our lives and for this whole world.    In our worship services, we are guided in this consideration by specific biblical topics – today, the topic of hope; on the 4^th, the topic of love; on the 11^th the topic of joy; and peace will be our focus on the 18^th.   Come the beautiful moment of Silent Night, Holy Night, may we light the candle with a fresh fire of holy hope, love, joy and peace ablaze within us.   We start faithfully striking flint today by turning to Isaiah 64 and focusing in on hope.  

            Let’s begin by building a bridge between hope as a broad ideal and hope as an intimate, heartfelt reality.  Stepping on this bridge, consider this question for self-reflection -- What was the most recent request you made?   Further, what exactly was it you needed to be given or have done?   Who did you make this request for favor or courtesy of?  Did you so with a sense of urgency or complacency?    When you stop to think about it, we do make a lot of requests every day.     We do so because we have many needs and because we inherently live with hope that one way or another these needs are going to be attended to.     Hope fuels our need fulfillment.   

            I invited us to think about this because Isaiah 64 begins and ends with request.    The author of the words had a finger on the pulse of his people’s needs and spoke with hope that those needs would be met.    The people are the ancient Israelites and God is squarely the one whose favor is being requested.  

            The request is made in very dramatic, very poetic fashion – “O that You, God, would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake in Your presence.”   This is not a poetically framed request for God to stretch open the sky in order to come down, strike fear and destroy.    It is instead a request for God to come and be directly present in order to fire things up the way fire kindles brushwood and boils water.   

            The request for God’s presence reflects a historic time of conflict within the Jewish community.   A great many people had returned to Jerusalem after having been forced to live in exile some sixty years in the neighboring Babylonian Empire (present day Iraq).    Upon their return, there was a commonly felt great hope amongst the Jewish people for Jerusalem to be restored to its former glory.  “All hopes were pinned to that return,” writes one Bible scholar, for “coming home to Jerusalem was going to mean the end of all Israel’s shame and discontent.”[ii]   Can you relate, as I sure can, to having a great hope that God’s children can somehow come home together to a common holy place and be liberated from sin and discord?

            Alas, instead of the great community abiding by a unifying faithful fire, power struggles blazed amongst the people.   Conflict crackled.  Divisiveness simmered.    “Problems multiplied rather than disappeared; ugliness and evil continued to exist.”[iii]    The need and hope of holy restoration was thus pulled down by lamentable sinful behavior.        

            Isaiah’s prophetic word to this community was even more metaphorically dramatic than his request to the Almighty.  He compared the people to filthy, faded cloth – the kind of filth that clearly marked them as ritually unclean and impure before the Lord.    A gross rag sure is a hopeless image.   He further gave voice to the fear that God had been so angry about the people sinfully soiling themselves into this condition that God had decided to turn away from receiving requests and realizing hopes.  

            But great prophets call out people’s sin in order to inspire them to return to a vigorous hope in the greatness of God.   So we read in Isaiah 64 the reminder that God had done some unexpected, totally awesome deeds throughout Hebrew history.  Implied here are such moments as the miraculous delivery from enslavement in Egypt, the mercy of manna given to griping people in exodus, and the mighty military hand shown through a shepherd boy with his iddy-biddy slingshot.  Isaiah not only reminded the people, but also God.  We hear this in Isaiah’s plea -- “Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and do not remember iniquity forever … consider, we are all Your people.” (64:9)

            Inspired by this Scripture, we can conclude that there are two essential aspects of living with holy hope.   First, we are reminded that despite laments, hope comes alive each time God’s past unexpected acts of deliverance are recalled.   And second, we are reminded hope also comes alive when we acknowledge our sin and make humble requests for God to yet again mercifully, miraculously deliver us.

            What do these two reminders about hope have to do with Advent?   Doesn’t it sound more like they belong more to the repentant season of Lent?  

            Last week, I mentioned that our Christ the King celebration marked the end of the year on the church calendar.   Today, the first Sunday in Advent, then, is like New Year’s Day.   It marks not only the beginning of our preparation for Christmas, for the birth of Jesus, but also our preparation for Jesus as the Christ who is fully revealed to us at Easter and whose reign we live in as Easter people.   It’s not coincidental that the color purple marks our sanctuary during both Advent and Lent.   So this is indeed a time for repentant self-reflection, of realizing and turning away from behavior that burns down instead of builds up faith as we live alongside our loved ones and neighbors near and far.  Along with Isaiah, we do so not to feel guilty and live only in lament that God has justifiable reason to hide from us forever.   We do so to name it while also saying “Yet, O Lord …” in order to turn our full attention to hoping in the Holy One who acts to deliver us from sin in awesome, unexpected ways. 

            When God spoke through Isaiah, we can trust the divine plan was already in full-swing for God to “tear open the heavens and come down” in the most completely astonishing, earth-shaking way ever.    Not by angry thunderbolt and lightening, but by gentle, darkness illumining starlight; the starlight that shone on field-filthy, socially outcast shepherds and on wealthy, worldly respected wise men alike.   Not by a massive physical display of military and political might, but by way of a fragile-fleshed human child born to an impoverished family.    We must faithfully contemplate that the ultimate coming down and our ultimate hope began with simple, stark reality.   It began by entering the physical cells of sinfully soiled humanity.   It began by eternal revelation made in the midst of lowly manger mud.  

            Perhaps you have made a recent request of your loved ones expressing your hope for a certain gift you feel you want or need to receive this Christmas?             If so, also intentionally take time this Advent season to lament sin, to consider all of humanity’s truest need and to make a humble request of God to please come down to hearts and minds and give us all afresh the greatest gift of all – the gift of Emmanuel, God with us, Jesus.   Amen.

             

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[i] Edward Hays, http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/teachers/teachers.php?id=109

[ii] Diane Jacobson, “Isaiah in Advent: The Transforming Word” page 384

[iii] ibid

Thy Kingdom Care

Matthew 25:31-46

            


Despite my having the utmost reverence for the King Jesus described in this morning’s Gospel passage, I really can’t say I’m eager to meet Him.    Frankly, I find this King Jesus more than a bit frightening.    I read the fiery words of condemnation about those seated at His left hand -- those He judges as cursed -- and I feel intimidated down to the most cluttered basement corner of my soul.   The word our pew Bibles translate as “cursed” can also be translated even more bluntly as “doomed.”   On the eternity sized bench of divine judgment, I do not want to be seated even one millimeter to the left of this King Jesus.   

            The condemning declaration against those who do not follow the ways of this King not only intimidates me, it kind of irritates me too.   I’m generally one who favors preaching about Christ’s all-inclusive, loving grace.  I guess you could say the harsh tone gets my goat.     Plus, earlier this week, when I first re-read this widely recommended passage for Christ the King Sunday, I felt like I’m far too docile a person to preach about people being segregated into the “eternal fire prepared for the devil.”  It’s safe to say I felt – what’s the right word? – well, I felt sheepish about speaking to this passage.

            However, it’s a good and faithful discipline not to ignore Bible passages just because they irritate or intimate you.   Comfortable or not, it’s all the Word of the Lord.  It’s all there for the sheep and the goats and the great purpose of being the definitive guide for righteous living.  We do have a choice, though, for how we choose to primarily interpret it.  

            We can choose to first and foremost focus on and proclaim this as a scary Scripture lesson.   Among other reasons for this not being my first choice is the fact that I grew up in an abusive situation and was consistently scared by frightening language.   So I can say that strong condemning language doesn’t exactly inspire me to feel loved and to love others for who they are and where they are at.   It triggers angry, resentful and generally combative feelings.  And that is not good news in any way shape or form.  Can you relate?    

            I do acknowledge and respect our Lord’s authority as eternal judge, especially since any negative judgment is the result of the sin humankind sows.   But this lesson has an even more potent point.   It is a very clear invitation to follow Jesus rightly by faithfully and blessedly loving ourselves and our neighbors as He loves.     I don’t find this passage is meant to scare the hell out of us so much as it intends to inspire heavenly life into us!

            Teaching about what heavenly life here on earth under the reign of Christ is like truly is the most potent point of Matthew 25.     Yes, it’s a parable that shocks us to attention.  But it does so to then settle us into the teaching of how we disciples of the Son of Man are to love Him and love like Him.    Matthew was intentional in using “Son of Man” instead of “Son of God” as his title for Jesus in this text -- it’s the title that always points to his selfless, sacrificial suffering on earth.  It’s a cue to let us readers know Jesus’ judgment is based on His incarnate example.

                So when you and I pray and declare “Thy Kingdom Come” do we do so primarily to remind ourselves and others that eternal judgment will be upon our souls one day?   Or do we do so to reassure ourselves and others that as wounded as this world is, God’s reign of love, justice and peace in Jesus is and will forever prevail?    I pray we pray to foremost feel reassured and inspired to faithful action.  I pray that as we speak the words to Jesus, “Thy Kingdom come,” we simultaneously say to ourselves, “Thy Kingdom Care.”

            Our eternal king is not a power-hungry, people abusing, self-serving autocratic Pharoah.   The Gospels bear consistent witness that our eternal king is a selflessly caring and universally compassionate sovereign whose reign is all about God redeeming the injustices of sin.    To be His subjects, his ambassadors, his -- in keeping with our parable this morning—the sheep of His fold, is to make serving this divine government our daily priority.     Our king led by flawless, bold example while physically on earth.   Our king now continues to govern our hearts and minds in this way through the power of His Holy Spirit, power that is given by grace and received and lived through faith.  

            How, then, are we to live into Christ’s kingdom and in doing so inherit it and build it on earth as it is in heaven?    Matthew’s message for today is crystal clear -- be the sheep and not the goats.   Faithfully follow the Good Shepherd in doing the caring, sin rectifying things Jesus was born to do instead of obstinately, sinfully ignoring them.    Some of these are very plainly named for us in Matthew 25.

            Where there is hunger and thirst, offer food and drink.   We are summoned by our King to offer nourishment to anybody lacking the basic human necessities needed to be alive.   As we share in the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper today, spiritually feast being mindful of these neighbors and ask God how you can go forth in this season of thanksgiving as a holy ambassador.

            Where there is estrangement, offer welcome.   Those we may consider strangers are not strangers to Jesus.  They are beloved friends.   Absolutely every one of them.  And so our King summons us to address all shunning prejudices, non-inclusive practices and gross injustices against our neighbors near and far.   By doing so, we help rebuild our communities and this hurting world in His holy image.

            Where there is nakedness and sickness, offer clothing and healing.   Nakedness takes many forms.  You know the most obvious and what this means in terms of body warmth and social acceptance.   In the Scriptures, it’s worth noting that it also functions as a way of naming shame.    The nakedness of Adam and Eve before God was less about their physical condition and more about their mortified spiritual condition once the sickness of sin factored into their lives.    As our king summons us to clothe and heal, then, we should be mindful that this is about our soul-care as well as body-care.

            On a similar note, where there is imprisonment, offer visitation.   While I miss going to the Pennsylvania State Correctional Institution at Graterford during the Advent season, which I did with the men’s group at my previous church, I also know there are other times of imprisonments needing to be visited.    People are imprisoned by loneliness, by a myriad of physical and mental diseases, by paralyzing grief, by economic despair, by lack of feeling loved and accepted for who they are as precious children of God and so forth.   Our king summons us to visit these realities and these neighbors in prayer and in person.  

            We consider all of these on this Christ the King Sunday, the last day of the year on the church calendar before we start anew with the season of Advent next week.    For truly I tell you, our caring King has said for our repeated hearing, whatever you have or have not done for “one of the least of these followers of mine” you did or did not do it for me.  (Matthew 25:40, Good News translation).   

            And friends, we are not just subjects of our caring king Christ Jesus … even more beautifully we are all His royal family.    Like all families, there can be great drama mixed in with great love.     We have to thank Jesus for dramatically pointing out what I would find to be the most painful part such sacred sovereign duty, the part about judging and segregating unrepentant sinners and unresponsive ambassadors.     We have to thank him for this shock to our system the way we are thankful for pool water being shocked with cleaning agent.    We are further thankful that in His Kingdom all the street signs direct us to keep right.    And that at every entrance way, there is a sign that reads “Come, you that are blessed … inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” 

             Yes, yes, Lord, good sovereign of all, Thy kingdom care.   Amen.

Holding Up the Holy Staff

Exodus 17:8-16

Veteran's Day Recognition

                The great spiritual leader trudged to the top of the hill and stood above his Hebrew people as they defended themselves in battle.     At the time of the conflict, the Hebrew people were in exodus from Egypt and were worn down and weary from woeful wandering in the desert wilderness (Deut. 25:18).   As such, they had appeared to be an easy target for an attacking nomadic people, named for us in this morning’s lesson as the Amalekites.  

            Amalek, chief of the Amalekites, was the grandson of Esau.  Recall that Esau is known to us by way of the Book of Genesis as the hairy-skinned hunter and slightly older twin of Jacob whose parents are Isaac and Rebekah.   Further recall that Jacob had a supplanting grip on his Esau’s heal at their birth and that Jacob also eventually completely cheated Esau out of his birthright.    There was fierce enmity between the two; so strong that at one point Esau had been determined to kill Jacob (Gen. 27:41).  Though they eventually had a measure of reconciliation, the bloodlines of Esau (known in the Bible as the Edomites) were historically in conflict with Jacob’s bloodlines (known in the Bible as the Israelites).     Given this bad blood, it makes additional sense why Esau’s grandson, Amalek, an Edomite chief, saw an opportunity to pounce on the Israelites as they were escaping to a holy promised land.

            The exodus of the Israelites, however, was sacredly safeguarded.   Moses was the central representative spiritual leader of God’s holy bond with his Hebrew people.    Every step of the exodus, including every lament and every attack upon them, was thus taken in the merciful, delivering power of the Almighty.

            Today’s passage from Exodus is the first time we meet Joshua in the Bible.   Moses had instructed him to lead the fight against the Amalekites.    It may seem like Joshua, as the military leader, would have the greatest influence on the outcome of the conflict.   This is true enough in terms of how the bloody battle was fought on the ground.    But again, this battle was also one being fought from the heavens.   There can be absolutely no underestimating how powerful and inspiring that sight of Moses was to the faithful engaged in defending their people.   The act of raising his holy shepherding staff high up was the great hope and empowerment of the Israelites.    It’s how they were reminded of God’s powerful presence and divine promise of deliverance during that battle in the wilderness of Sin.

            When I read of times and places and people in the Bible, I find it helpful to use my imagination to help me really relate to it all.   So as I reflected on this morning’s scene over the past few days, I found myself picturing Moses (and try as I may and might, I just couldn’t quite shake the image of Charlton Heston) standing atop the rock lookout point in the park near the top of Schooley’s Mountain.   I envisioned him standing there with his holy staff uplifted triumphantly high as myself and many people act in defense of an enemy attack down below in Long Valley.   In my mind’s eye, the power of the great spiritual leader’s presence stirred my faithful passions and energized me for the mission.

            Stepping away from this sidebar of imagination, let’s get back to the text.   Adding depth to this historic account is something else we are told.    We are told that for all his faithful stamina, Moses was unable to stand tall for the whole battle.  He was unable to continuously hold up the holy staff, that emblem of holy hope.    He was only human, after all, and who knows how long that defensive fight went on.   Yet the powerful symbol of the staff needed to continue to be on display for the benefit of the bedraggled Israelites in battle.   

            The good news is we are also told Moses was not alone in this important mission.    He had his older brother Aaron and a loyal friend named Hur by his side.    Seeing that their spiritual leader physically needed support, Aaron and Hur found a rock for Moses to sit and rest upon.    As you heard the Scripture read, did you catch what they did next?   They didn’t take turns holding the staff … that was truly for Moses alone to do.   Instead, they each took and lifted up an arm of the seated spiritual leader.    This faithful act of support enabled the holy staff, the reminder of God’s abiding and strengthening presence, to remain above the fray. 

            What a beautiful image this is of a leaders working together as a spiritual team at a time it was desperately needed.   And, I may be the only one, but I also interpret this three-part blessing over those in battle as symbolic of the Holy Trinity.   God’s blessed presence has always been and continues to be as community.  

            How does this written account of an ancient event come to bear on our more recent human history?    Why might this witness be important for us to embrace and emulate as spiritual heirs of God’s promises to the Israelites?   Especially at a time when our country remains engaged in freedom-defending, democracy-building wars? 

            This past Friday was 11-11-11, a fun date to say but much more importantly to remember.    It was the 93rd anniversary of eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918 when an armistice for the cessation of hostilities was signed between the Allied Western Front of World War I and Germany.    The New York Times reported that day how the US State Department had made the armistice announcement at 2:50 A.M.., and that the end of the war was declared at 6 A.M. Washington time.    A year later, President Woodrow Wilson officially birthed a new American federal holiday, Armistice Day, to honor those who had died in the world-shocking war and to help further encourage peace. 

             As we all lamentably know, lasting world peace was not realized and so World War II and the Korean War soon after grasped the heal of the first great conflict.   More dutiful war dead and surviving veterans needed to be remembered and honored.   In 1954, Armistice Day was therefore declared by President Eisenhower to be henceforth known as Veterans Day.   And so it remains … now incorporating honored memorials and celebrations for all those serving our country through other major conflicts including the Vietnam War, Operation Desert Storm, Operation Iraqi Freedom, and Operation Enduring Freedom.

        As I faithfully reflect on the heart-wrenching reality of ongoing warfare in our world, I find this morning’s Bible passage reminds us of a central duty for all people who profess trust and hope in our promise-giving, spiritually delivering God.    We are to be spiritual leaders.   We are to hold up the holy staff.   We do so by uplifting prayer and faithful witness for all of our veterans and all of our active men and woman of the armed forces, that they may know God’s constant, safeguarding and powerful presence is alive within their hearts and minds.  As Father David Sivret, who served as a chaplain and was severely wounded during Operation Iraqi Freedom tells it, “In all the sermons, I tried to focus on God’s saving acts and how He is compassionate in love, there for us at all times, no matter where we find ourselves.”[i]   

            “The Lord is my banner,” declared Moses following the military victory of Joshua and the Israelites over the Amalekites.    The Hebrew word for “banner” that is used in Exodus 17:15, is not a reference to some colorful fabric.    It translates to simply mean a symbolic rallying point.    The rallying point is belief in God’s power to deliver all humanity from evil, to lead us all into holy promises for peace and justice, freedom and equality.   We hold high and together this rallying point like a holy staff belonging to the Good Shepherd, the Savior of the World, Jesus Christ.   Amen.     

           

           

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[i] What Was Asked of Us: An Oral History of the Iraq War by the Soldiers Who Fought It (2006)

Power Vines

John 15:1-11

  

            This past week of widespread power outages inspires me to ask a question of us this morning -- where are the power lines for our church?

There are power lines threaded throughout all of the communities where we live and work.    We generally do not take notice of their power-full current carrying presence … until they get damaged and we lose our light, our heat, our hot water, our sense of security and our air of normalcy.   These past several days we’ve certainly been forced to take notice.    Untold numbers of autumn-leafed tree branches were suddenly adorned with several inches of heavy wet snow from a hundred-year Saturday storm.     As very, very many broke off they brought thick black electric vines down with them.   Cautiously driving around in the aftermath revealed these snapped snakes and provided a narrative as to why the electric grid was devastatingly shut down most all the week.   I know I’ll not soon forget the image and experience of driving on Parker Road and barely passing under an arc of low-bent power line from a long, broken branch.     

With interrupted power came interrupted life.    Roads and schools and stores and work places were closed.    Regular routes and routines were anxiously altered.    Finding an open gas station was meandering guesswork.   We worried about ourselves, our loved ones, our neighbors.    And we waited with a tremendously uncomfortable feeling of being at the mercy of the power company as they rolled out the massive restoration process.    

Keep everything you just experienced this difficult week in mind as we go back to the inspired question -- where are the power lines for our church?    Our sanctuary, Community House, and manse sat dark and cold for about five days.     But does this mean our power lines as a church were down?

Let’s turn to our Bibles for an answer.   Specifically, let’s revisit the Good News of Jesus Christ.   As we do, we are unquestionably reminded that our power as a church did not go off even for a millisecond this past week.   Nor can any storm at any time ever damage and interrupt it.    Our buildings may be powered by JCP&L, but as a church we are a much more powerful company.  We are a different JCP&L … we are Jesus Christ’s People and Light!    At all times -- and especially when the way is dark, anxious and uncertain – Jesus shines through us.  His Light is constantly on, His power grid forever flowing, and He is always illuminating a path to peace of mind, hope, and strength. Nothing on earth and in the universe can shut-down the people that God empowers through the Light of Christ.

In this morning’s Gospel lesson from John 15, this faithful truth is relayed by using the community imagery of a vineyard.    You may immediately picture in your minds a vineyard where the rows of vines are all neatly manicured and picturesque.    This was not the case in biblical times.    The vineyards of ancient Israel were huge, heavy, ancient and “trailed along the ground covering large areas.”[i]   Sounds a bit like the downed tree limbs all around us this week.  In order for the vine branches to be able to bear good fruit, vineyard workers had to constantly check them.   Most importantly, they needed to keep them propped up on small supports.   If no support was offered, the vine branches broke away from the parent vine, withered and died.   A broken vine could not simply be replanted to bloom again the following season; it took years for roots to go deep enough to bear good fruit. ^[ii]       

Jesus grew up surrounded by vineyards.    He knew their historic and contemporary significance for the well-being of the community.    He knew about the great need for deep roots, for endless supports, for constant cultivating.  He understood the utter importance of bearing healthy fruit for the good of the community at large.    He especially understood the vital significance of the parent vine, the life-flow of all the vine off-shoots.   Drawing from this real world example, John records Jesus as identifying Himself with it.  He quotes Jesus as declaring, “I am the true vine.”  He also has Jesus declaring His followers to be the vine branches.     

The True Vine and His vine branches cover the ground of God’s massive vineyard, the Church.    We exist to be an interwoven community whose life-flow comes from Christ.  Our purpose is to constantly work together in order to provide the crucial supports needed to bear good fruits (that is, faithful works) everywhere wild, sour grapes are choking the life and light of God’s good Creation.    As the church, we faithfully affirm in word and deed that when worldly power lines go down, Christ’s power vines stay up!

I saw so many healthy power vines throughout these recent difficult days.    Each caused a surge of gratitude to flow through me.   A few examples …

Last Saturday evening in the heart of the heavy snow, one power vine called my mobile phone to let me know we had an FPC family on the way to the Community House to seek emergency shelter for the night.     We wove power vines together soon after to make this happen.

In need of shelter for myself and the girls once the lights and heat went out, another power vine in the congregation offered us – and quite a few others – a generator powered warm place to stay when we were in town. 

There were also the power vines that worked to clear the church yard before going on to clean out the sad state of the main Community House refrigerator.

Still other power vines found ways to communicate and collectively make a decision not to cancel or postpone yesterday’s festive Mistletoe Market; a decision that then ushered lots more power vines into play for the good of our whole community.   

As offshoots of the True Vine, we prayed for the exhausted utility workers and emergency personnel laboring through very long days and nights.   Further, we turned to the True Vine to sustain our hearts and minds during hours of deep frustration and slips into despair.  The unfailing life-flow reached us in several forms … such as through a prayerful, Biblically grounded sense of security and through small supports put in place by family, friends, neighbors, and strangers.

As God’s power grid, as God’s vineyard, we strive to abide at all times in the True Vine, in Jesus.    Abide is a very powerful word.    It signifies that we do not work for Jesus, but in and with Jesus.[iii]   In the original Greek language, “abide” can be further translated to mean “not to depart,” “not to perish,” and “to remain as one.”    As we abide in Jesus, we therefore also abide in one another.  We do not abandon one another, let one another perish, or let one another remain in isolation.   A contemporary translation of John 15:6 has Jesus saying it this way – “When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relationship is intimate and organic.”[iv]  

The good fruit of this intimate, organic relationship is love -- real, deep, divine love; the amazing, selfless love that only comes from the life-flow of our Lord.   In the midst of many other feelings this week, I trust you also had a strong sense of being lovingly cared for.  And I trust you felt compelled to love others, especially those enduring the same inconveniences and hardships.

All week long, I kept in mind that today is our scheduled Stewardship dedication.  And my goodness, when we embarked on our Stewardship campaign several weeks ago, we had no way of knowing how poignant our theme of “Keeping the Light On” would be considering the events of this week!    So here we are today bearing fresh witness to the light and love of Christ shining strongly come what may.   Your financial pledge for the coming year of vineyard life is one very vital expression of your gratitude for this amazing gift that never goes out and continues to be cast forth from Fairmount Presbyterian Church.    It is not first and foremost a commitment to a human organization; it is above all an offshoot abiding in the True Vine.   It is a measurable, vital portion of good and faithful fruit that will help maintain and further grow the beautiful deep roots we have in this community.      

So the inspired question isn’t really “Where are the power lines for the church?”   It’s “Where are the power vines?”    Praise God, these are faithfully in view everywhere around us.  Check your mirror.   Scan the face of the person next to you.   Be grateful for the unbreakable, unifying, abiding connections we have as JCP&L – Jesus Christ’s People and Light!    Amen.      

           

           

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[i] “Weavings” magazine, September/October 2001, p.11

[ii] ibid

[iii] ibid, p. 14

[iv] THE MESSAGE