Sunday, January 15, 2012 -- Martin Luther King, Jr. Weekend 

   This past week as the tragic story about the multiple killings in Hocking County began to make the news, one of the reporters telling this story did so in a way that made it even more troubling for me.  This reporter kept saying that authorities were trying to determine what had led this person to “make the decision” he did to kill his family members.  I then found myself doing something I have never done before, which was to get in touch with this reporter and have a dialogue with him about how he had reported it.
 
   For me a decision is a thought-out, best-a-person-can-do choice for going forward in life.  I could not think of such a horrific act as this as a “decision”—and hoped that no one else would be led to think of it in that way either.
 
   Jesus asked every person He met to make a decision—a “thought-out, best they could do” choice for going forward, and at the time of this morning’s Scripture lesson, this is especially true.
 
   As our church is inviting people to read straight through the New Testament this year, one of the many good things about this is that we can better see how the story unfolds.  We are now in the section of Matthew in which Jesus is calling people to discipleship—and teaching what it means to be a disciple.
 
   There are many challenges facing churches today, with many churches having declines in their numbers.  One very encouraging sign that many religious leaders are seeing, however, is that among people who are members of churches, many more of them are recognizing the call of Jesus to discipleship.  In other words, more people are seeing that just “being a member” of a church alone is not enough.
 
   We’ve all heard the phrase “Membership has its privileges”—and it does, whether at a church or somewhere else.  “Membership has its privileges”—that is what “being a member”—being “on the inside”—means.  Discipleship, however, means much more—and requires much more.
 
   I have here a page from a newsletter we receive each month from a church in another state.  This church is a little larger than ours and is a wonderful congregation, I am sure.  I find myself reacting rather strongly, however, to what is said in this particular article.
 
   In this article their committee in charge of encouraging new people to become members of their church made a list of what current members could tell others about their church in order to get them to consider becoming part of it.  Allow me to read to you their list—eleven things—exactly as they are printed:  “Everyone is welcome wherever you are on your faith journey; Friendly; Spiritual; Multi-areas of stimulating interests; Open and affirming; Compassionate; Great pastoral care; Great musical programming; Great spirit; Excellent educational opportunities.”   Now this is an outstanding list, no question about it.  There is, however, something vital that is nowhere to be found here.
 
   Everything on this list—wonderful as it is—tells what people in the church receive by being members of it.  Every one of these items tells what they are getting or will get by being members.  There is not a single reference to what the church is giving or to what those who join may be asked to give.
 
   “Membership has its privileges.”  “Discipleship has its responsibilities.”
 
   I hope as we think about what it means to be part of this church family that we think about the many privileges there are in being members here.  I pray that we think as much or more about the responsibilities we have right alongside the privileges, because we are disciples of Jesus Christ.  Our “list” of eleven things—or any other number—must tell about the mission projects and offerings we have.  Our list must tell about how we care not only about those within our church family who are hurting, but reach beyond our walls to care for others that we have learned are hurting.  This week, with the tragedy that has affected the Westerville North High School family we have been called to reach out in whatever ways we can to offer our support to them.
 
   The title of this sermon is “Unlike Any Other.”  No one else has ever been like Jesus in terms of what He offers and what He demands.  Not only does He describe the privileges in being God’s children in ways beyond what anyone else ever has, but He also sets forth the responsibilities that go hand in hand with these privileges.
 
   Inter-woven in today’s passage and those leading up to it are both of these components.  “Even a sparrow does not fall without God’s consent and God knows you as intimately as numbering the hairs on your head—so do not be afraid,” Jesus says.  There could be no greater blessing than to be so cared and to know this is true.  And even as He is saying this Jesus also demands that His listeners proclaim to others the blessings that they are receiving as His disciples.
 
   Membership has its privileges.  Discipleship has its responsibilities.  Jesus, unlike any other, defines and proclaims and calls us to both.
 
   I will not tell you that I changed that reporter’s mind completely through my discussion with him about what a “decision” is.  But I will tell you that I proclaimed to him as openly as I could what Jesus had whispered to me.
 
   “Call such a thing a crazed act; call it an act of terror or desperation and certainly a tragedy.  But do not call it a decision.  A decision is what we make as the best that we can be and do—not only for ourselves but also for others.
 
   Jesus is unlike any other in that He demands decisions as no one else ever has.  And the greatest decision any of us can make is to say, “I have decided to follow Jesus—to be His disciple—both for the privileges and the responsibilities.”
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
January 15, 2012
Martin Luther King, Jr. Weekend



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Sunday, January 8, 2012 -- Installation Sunday 

   Throughout the years we have followed the suggested Lectionary readings in our services each Sunday.  These Scriptures follow the seasons of the year and match our Christian holidays as they occur.  This year our congregation is doing something quite different.  We are following the New Testament straight through—five chapters per week, with a passage from somewhere in those five chapters selected as our New Testament reading each Sunday.  So it is that today, just as Dorothy said in “The Wizard of Oz,” we “begin at the beginning”—with the opening chapters of Matthew, which mark the beginning of the New Testament.
 
   Even as we go through the New Testament this year I also want to be mindful of the seasons and holidays being celebrated each week.  Today is Epiphany Sunday—the time to celebrate the light of God and the fulfillment of God’s promises in the world.  Our Old Testament reading—which is a Lectionary text for today—certainly begins at the beginning.  The very beginning words of the Bible are the text for today, with God saying “Let there be light!”
 
   But now—on this beginning time for our New Testament journey, how do we get started?   On what passage from these first five chapters should we focus?
 
   When I was growing up a popular version of the Bible was called the “Red Letter” edition.  These are still available today, though they are not nearly as common.  “Red Letter” means that in these editions all the recorded words of Jesus are printed in red.
 
   I have my childhood “Red Letter” Bible here—and I remember how fascinated my friends and I were by the words in red.  We didn’t necessarily read them, but we certainly looked at them!  They stood out.  We knew they were most important of all, so we would flip through the Bible looking for the largest sections of words in red.
 
   This week, as our chapters of Matthew include chapter five, we have begun to read the longest section of all that is “in red”—the longest uninterrupted place in the Bible with only words of Jesus.  Right here is the place I liked opening to most of all in my childhood Bible—Matthew five through seven—The Sermon on the Mount—where nothing but red appears on these pages!
 
   Just as I like this section, there is no doubt that Matthew did as well.  Of the four Gospel writers, Matthew was most interested of all in showing how Jesus fulfilled the prophecies of the Old Testament.  Matthew is also most interested in showing how much Jesus was like Moses, the greatest Old Testament character.  Moses went up on a mountain to get the Ten Commandments.  Early in his Gospel, Matthew tells how Jesus also went up on a mountain—to preach His first sermon.
 
   Matthew may have wanted to have this large section of teaching in the manner of Moses be the first words of Jesus he would record in his Gospel.  He knew, however, that he couldn’t do that.  Jesus had said something else first—and everyone knew it.
 
   As I flip through my “red letter” edition I can quickly see that a few brief statements of Jesus are said before the words of the Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus speaks to John the Baptist, asking John to baptize Him.  He makes three statements to the devil in response to each of the devil’s temptations.  And He calls His first four disciples.  All these words are said by Jesus privately.  There is one sentence, however, that Jesus said publicly before the words of the Sermon on the Mount.  For our passage this morning—as we “begin at the beginning”—I have chosen for us to hear and focus upon these first words that Jesus spoke publicly.
 
   Clearly, Jesus had great respect for John the Baptist.  We read that John was the forerunner for the Messiah—just as the Prophet Isaiah had predicted.  Jesus went to John to be baptized.  Now we read in today’s passage that Jesus waits until after John has been arrested—until after John has completed his public ministry—before Jesus begins His own ministry in a public way.
 
   Now—and most telling of all—we read these first public words of Jesus—and they are the exact words that John the Baptist had preached.  “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”  This had been the central message of John.  Now it is the opening message of Jesus.
 
   Let’s look a bit more at this passage.  It says that after Jesus hears that John has been arrested, He goes back to the more rural and less sophisticated part of His nation—to the province of Galilee.  Jesus’ home town was in Galilee—the small town of Nazareth.  Now the first thing Jesus does is to move from Nazareth to another small town—Capernaum—and it is in Capernaum that Jesus sets up His headquarters.
 
   I have to tell you—this is pretty dull.  Even though at this time there had long been rumors about a supposed king—even sought by Wise Men—born about thirty years earlier, that was long ago.  Besides that, everyone knew that evil King Herod had done everything he could do get rid of that baby and probably had.  Now someone from the insignificant town of Nazareth has set up headquarters in another insignificant town, and He’s preaching words we’ve already heard from that rather bizarre character called John the Baptist.  Are we to believe that this person now coming onto the scene is the Messiah—the light of the world?
 
   This would be like thinking that someone who had a little office in an insignificant part of Iowa and got less than two per cent of the vote at the caucuses last week will be our next president.  This person’s message is repent—because God’s Kingdom is near.  Can these simple words really be the beginning of changing the world?
 
   Many years ago, about the time I began in ministry, I learned the story of a remarkable church in the Deep South, a church that had become a leader in working against segregation.  For many years this church had been a leader in advancing segregation, but now it was a light of hope to change it.  How had this happened?
 
   For many years this church had been led by a minister who was a strong segregationist.  Week after week he preached that it was God’s will for them to work against allowing certain people into their church or schools or certain other places.  Finally that minister had left, and one of the members of the church was hired to fill in for a while until they found a new minister.  This member prepared for his first Sunday, and his initial thoughts were that he didn’t even need to study the Bible to do this.  After all, he’d heard those sermons for so long that he knew what to say.  Still, he figured he might as well read some of the Bible, and started at the beginning of the New Testament.  Once he did he could not stop.  “I was amazed,” this man later said.  “The Bible didn’t teach all those things our previous minister had told us it did.  It taught something else entirely.  I knew people weren’t going to like it, but I decided I had to tell them the truth and preach what the Bible really said—things they had all been taught to be against, like equality, and brotherhood, and love for everyone!”
 
   “Well,” he went on, “I was right.  They didn’t like it!  Most people who had accepted those other messages were mad and began to leave.  Every Sunday my congregation got smaller and smaller.  Finally,” he concluded, “I preached them down to two—but they were ‘one heck of a two!’”
 
   From those last two remaining members of that church, word began to spread that here was a church daring to preach the truth about Jesus and about the Bible.  New people began to attend and to listen, and some of the former members were moved to come back, until the congregation was stronger than it had been before—a vital, open-to-everyone-church, that had more and more influence in spreading the light of Jesus’ message of love for everyone.
 
   “Repent.”  This is Jesus’ first public word—and it means “turn around”—“go in a different and far better direction.”  Why?—because God’s kingdom is near.  This is Epiphany.  This is the meaning of the fulfillment of God’s promises: “God with us.”
 
   We do not know all that is ahead for us as we continue to read through the New Testament.  But we do know that the possibilities are beyond limit.
 
   From those simple opening words to repent because God is near, the world will be forever changed.  This obscure carpenter from Nazareth by way of Capernaum will indeed climb the mountain in an even more important way than Moses had.  “Let there be light,” God had said at the beginning of creation—and this person, Jesus the Messiah, is that light in the greatest form of all.  Discovering this is how we get started.  And like that member of a church in the Deep South who dared to open the Bible and proclaim what it really said, we also are open to finding how God will change each of us as we allow that light to shine upon us and through us.
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
January 8, 2012
Installation Sunday



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Sunday, December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day 

Today is the day--Christmas morning. For many of us, especially children this is the most exciting morning of the year. People all over the world, throughout the centuries are and have been celebrating Christmas. Depending on where or when you live, traditions are a bit different. In the Southern Hemisphere it is summer right now and Santa can't possible come in the snow with his reindeer. When I lived in South Africa, we celebrated Christmas on the beach--with huge picnics in our bathing suits. Traditions and customs might be different, but it is still the same great news. Jesus Christ is born today.

Music is a great way of telling the Christmas story. There are many Christmas carols and we all have our favorite ones. The opening hymn is one of the oldest hymns in our hymnal: “Come Ye Old Faithful.” I remember this was the first one I learned to play on the recorder when I was about 8 years old. The original version is in Latin and nearly 1000 years old. Amazing to realize that a hymn we still sing today has been sung for so many centuries. In the 18th centuries the hymn was translated into English and sang ever since. For many of us this is one of our favorite Christmas hymns.

Another way of telling the Christmas story is through drama. In the 12th century, when the majority of people couldn't read nor write, Francis of Assisi introduced the Christmas pageant. Dramatic play was one way of sharing the wonderful news that Christ was born. Till today, 900 years later, we continue to share the great news to all people via a Christmas pageant.

Today we live in another time. The majority of us are literate and we even use computers as one way of communicating with each other. E-mail, text messages or Facebook is instant communication--we are connected to the whole world via a single click on the computer. A world without computers would be unthinkable.

Have you used a computer in the last week? Have you received an electronic Christmas greeting? Have you texted or updated your Facebook page lately? If you answered yes to one or more questions, you may relate to the contemporary version of the Christmas story as presented on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZrf0PbAGSk

It doesn't matter where you live or what medium you use--the message is still the same: Christ is born for us today.

Merry Christmas.

Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
December 25, 2011
Christmas Day



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Sunday, December 18, 2011 -- Fourth Sunday of Advent 

   The first words I hear after answering the phone are, “Hello, Mister Hah-rold Steendoom of Man-goo-ah Drive.  I am authorized by my company to make a wonderful offer just for you!”  And immediately I’m thinking, “Oh, no, what am I in for now?”
 
   We have just “listened in” on the conversation between the Angel Gabriel and Mary as he tells her about the “wonderful offer from God that he is authorized to make—just for her!”  Gabriel is certainly much smoother than any telephone solicitor who has ever called me!  “Greetings, favored one!  The Lord is with you!” are his first words.  Yet Mary’s first thoughts—much like mine sometimes, are “Oh, no—what am I in for now?”   We read that Mary is “perplexed” and wonders “what sort of greeting” this is.
 
   Even though there are similarities, there are also big differences of course.  One is that I had the option not to answer that phone—especially when I saw a strange number on the caller ID.  Mary doesn’t have much choice.  She’s in her kitchen, minding her own business, maybe stirring batter to make some biscuits when, suddenly, someone’s standing right next to her!  Poof!—there he is, and it isn’t the Pillsbury Dough Boy!  No, it’s the Angel Gabriel himself!
 
   I find it intriguing that Mary’s first words aren’t, “Hey, you’re Gabriel, aren’t you! I’ve seen your picture in art galleries!” or even, “Hey, how did you get in here anyway?”  No, she simply wonders what kind of greeting this is—or, as I have often asked, “What am I in for now?”
 
   Gabriel keeps going through his pitch and Mary is trying to absorb it all.  Here is some of what she hears: “You have found favor with God!”  And then there is something about the “Son of the Most High and His ancestor David.”  And—“Did he really say I’m pregnant with this child?  Hey, I know enough about human anatomy and reproduction to know absolutely that I cannot be pregnant!”  On Gabriel goes, however, telling her of God’s incredible power and plans that go beyond our normal understanding—and how those plans also include Mary’s cousin, Elizabeth.
 
   The passage ends with Mary proclaiming the most important words of all—of her amazing acceptance of God’s offer: “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”  These are the beautiful words that Mary says, even though I’m quite certain that as she says these words she must also be thinking to herself, “This is going to get messy!  How am I going to explain this to my friends and my family—not to mention my fiancé!  This is going to get messy.”
 
   Recently commentator Andy Rooney died.  He did many things in his career but came to be known especially for his brief commentaries at the close of the “Sixty Minutes” television show for, oh, the past thirty years or so.  As I heard about his death I thought immediately of what a fan of his my mother was.  She had a four hour VCR tape of nothing but Andy Rooney!  Every Sunday night she had that tape in the deck and the remote in her hand, so that the instant he appeared on the screen she could hit “Record!”
 
   On one of our visits I sat and watched almost that entire tape with her—commentary after commentary about all sorts of things.  What I am remembering right now from all those thoughts he had about all sorts of topics is this one about Christmas.  Andy Rooney said this:  “One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas Day.  Don’t clean it up too quickly.”
 
   A “glorious mess”—“Don’t clean it up too quickly.”  That was Andy Rooney’s comment.  Mine would be this: “God works especially well in the middle of a mess.”
 
   The Bible is filled with stories of messes—whether for an individual or a family or an entire nation—when suddenly, out of that mess the greatest of wonders would come about.  I think about my life, and about some of the times that I thought were messiest of all, times when I could not imagine anything good coming about—only to have some of the most wonderful events of my life then come to be.  Perhaps you have had similar things happen in your life.  “God works especially well in the middle of a mess.”
 
   Mary was very human.  She had to be or none of this would have mattered.  The miracle would not have been a miracle.  Mary was very human.  She had to be thinking, “What have I gotten myself into by saying yes to God’s all-kinds-of-strings-attached offer?  This is going to get very messy!”
 
   Even though she knew she had let herself get into the middle of a mess, Mary still made her choice.  “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”  Mary’s choice was to trust God in the middle of the mess—because she knew that, somehow, God works especially well in the middle of a mess.”
 
   Every one of us has been in the middle of messy times in our lives.  Perhaps you are in the middle of one right now.  My prayer is that our first concern in such a time is not just to clean it up and sweep it under the rug as fast as possible no matter what, but before anything else to turn to God and to trust God in the middle of it—to be like Mary and dare to choose to be “a servant of the Lord.”  Then we may discover all that God will do as God blesses us through and beyond that mess.
 
   Let’s start with not cleaning up the “Christmas mess” too quickly—and go from there to discover even more of the ways that God is present in the middle of messes…because, in the Bible, in my life, and perhaps in yours, too, God works especially well in the middle of a mess.
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
December 18, 2011
Fourth Sunday of Advent



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Sunday, December 11, 2011 -- Third Sunday of Advent 

(Reflections on the Apostles’ Creed)

   A current commercial has definitely caught my attention.  The announcer’s opening line is, “No one has a list of websites they hope to visit before they die.”  The commercial then shows people in the vehicle they are advertising traveling to see and experience some very beautiful places.
 
   I will confess to you that I’ve been working on a “Bucket List” myself recently, and, no, there is not a single website to visit on my list.  There, are, however, a number of places, a number of experiences, and a number of accomplishments that are on my list.
 
   So, yes, I find this to be a compelling commercial.  It’s great to look at a website or at a map to tell us how to get somewhere.  But the trip itself—and then the arrival and the experience—that’s what matters far more.
 
   This morning we have recited the Apostles’ Creed, using the version of it that was printed in the Book of Common Prayer in 1662.  In other words, these words “go way back!”  And yet 1662 is only a fraction of how far back the Apostles’ Creed goes.  The tradition about the Apostles’ Creed that was accepted as fact for many years was that it was written ten days after Jesus ascended into Heaven.  The story was told was that the Twelve Apostles—including Mathias, who had replaced Judas—got together, and each made a statement about what he believed.  These twelve statements were written down and became what from then on would be called the Apostles’ Creed.
 
   As I said this story was accepted for a long time as true.  Scholars, however, are now certain that this is not how the Apostles’ Creed was written.  Rather, by piecing together writings from the early centuries of Christianity, scholars have determined that what we know as the Apostles’ Creed came into its present form slowly over many generations, not coming to the final form that we just repeated until at least the 400’s A.D.
 
   We need to remember that until the 300’s A.D. the books that make up the New Testament still had not been finalized, and then when the Bible as we know it was finalized, every Bible had to be copied by hand.  Bibles, therefore, were very rare.  There would likely be only one in each community, and safely kept for use only by a single church leader.  Therefore, a Creed that summarized many of the most important tenets of Christianity was very important for teaching new converts and for having them learn as they joined a church.
 
   Here at our church we teach the Apostles’ Creed to our confirmation students and use it occasionally in worship.  We have done so this morning, and I am lifting up one line from it as the title of today’s sermon, stating that Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary.”  Right after this, did you notice what the next line in the Creed is?  “Suffered under Pontius Pilate,” is the next statement.  In other words, this Creed contains only the most basic facts of our faith.  It skips from a reference about Jesus’ birth to His time of trial and death.  There is nothing in it at all about Jesus’ life or teachings.
 
   Again, the Apostles’ Creed was developed in a time when the Bible was not available to most people, so it contained only the most basic statements.  We today are blessed to have the Bible completely available to us.  And so, while I continue to teach that the Apostles’ Creed and other ancient creeds are important, what is much more important is for us to use our opportunities to read and learn from the Bible itself, studying passages that are hundreds of years older than the words of the Apostles’ Creed, and also that have much more detail and depth of meaning to inspire and teach us.
 
   The portions of the Bible that are our focus this morning are two songs—Psalm 126 and Luke 1:46-55.  Psalm 126 is one of the “Songs of Ascent.”  This means it was a Psalm sung by the Hebrew people when they made their long walks to Jerusalem—their very long journeys made in groups—for the annual festivals of their faith.  “The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoice,” the people sing in this Psalm.  It also says, “May those who go out weeping...come home with shouts of joy.”  What beautiful and powerful images these are for us today as we make our journey—our ascent—as part of this family of faith.
 
  Today’s Gospel lesson occurs just after Mary has learned the news which is summarized in a single line of the Apostles’ Creed, that she, a virgin, will be the mother of the Promised Messiah.  After hearing it, Mary makes a journey to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, who confirms that this news is true, so that Mary then bursts into song.  We call this “The Magnificat”—because the first words in it are “My soul magnifies the Lord.”  Then Mary proclaims, “from now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Lord has done great things for me.”  Again, what images these are for us to study more deeply for our journey today.
 
   With every group of people who are considering membership in our church, one of the first things I say to them is that Westerville Community is a Journey Church.  Some churches are what might be called Answer Churches.  This means that they believe they possess all the answers concerning God and how we should live, and the people who become part of their church must simply learn those answers.
 
   Our church—Westerville Community—is a Journey Church.  This means that we believe we are making a journey of faith together—much like those people journeying to Jerusalem and singing their Psalms as they did so.  In a Journey Church each of us is guided and supported by the wider church.  However, each person also has the opportunity and the responsibility to find his or her own faith answers and to grow in personal relationship with God.
 
   This is why we do not require that people becoming members of our church must memorize the Apostles’ Creed or any other creed, or declare that they believe exactly what others do in order to join our church.  Each of us in our journey of faith is to be learning and growing—caring for, encouraging, and challenging one another along the way—in the meaning we find personally in the Bible and in our relationship with God.
 
   I am very grateful for the Creeds that express some of the essence of the Christian faith for us, and certainly the Apostles’ Creed, which is the best and best-known of the creeds.  I am even more grateful that in our church each of us is free to use this and other creeds or examples of faith in order to grow in our own faith journey.
 
   It is great to have a website or a map to give us basic information and ideas on how to get somewhere.  But visiting the website or studying the map is not what matters most, and isn’t on my list of what I hope most of all to do in my lifetime.  Rather, I want to journey to the destination itself—appreciating and find meaning each step of the way.
 
   How grateful I am that today the Bible is readily available for us to use for study, inspiration, and guidance on this journey.  “Born of the Virgin Mary”—that’s concise and very good to hold on to.  But it’s even better to have Scripture itself to hold onto and be the song that leads and inspires us on this journey.  “Number One” on my “Bucket List” is to know Jesus the Christ, who was born to show us the way to the fullness of God’s love.  Perhaps that is “Number One” on your list, as well.
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
December 11, 2011
Third Sunday of Advent



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Sunday, December 4, 2011 -- Second Sunday of Advent 

Lots to do before Christmas. Writing all these cards, buying the presents, baking cookies.

You don’t need to bake cookies--the church will do it for you--the cookie sale is this Saturday--each pound will be $8.00. All profit will benefit the Debt Reduction.

Oh--that’s good--at least one less chore to do. But still, I need to get the lights on and we can’t find the nativity set neither in the basement nor in the attic. Maybe I have to buy a new one. Have you seen any interesting ones?

Well, to be honest with you--lots of them look the same. There’s always one character missing.

One character missing? What do you mean? Just go back to the store and return the package.

No, you don’t understand. There’s one person in the Christmas story who gets neglected. I have never received a Christmas card with him on it nor have I nativity scene--believe me--I have looked in many stores, online and even in catalogues.

I still don’t understand what you are talking about. Who is missing? Don’t you have the main characters? Mary, Joseph, the baby--the wise men and the shepherds and the angels. What else do you want?

Well, I told you, one family member is missing. Cousin John.

Now you totally confuse me. Who is Cousin John?

John is Jesus’ cousin. John is also known as John the Baptist. He is the one who first told us to prepare for Christmas. You may blame him for all the stress you are making to get ready. John the Baptist appears every year during Advent.

Explain that to me please.

Every year during Advent--the 4 week period to prepare for Christmas, we read about John the Baptist. Regardless which year of the lectionary--that are the suggested texts to preach about--Year A, B or C we are following, we always read about John the Baptist. He belongs to Advent like the advent wreath.

Ok--we hear about John the Baptist every Advent. But why?

Because he belongs to the Christmas story we just read.

Now you really got me--which Christmas story? Where are all the familiar characters? Mary, Joseph and the baby? And the shepherds, and that there was no place in the inn, and all the familiar verses we have been hearing year after year?

Well, there’re not there. The beginning of Mark’s gospel of Mark is totally different--just matter of fact. Nothing of the familiar.  But it’s a Christmas story--or as the first sentence of the gospel says: The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
But nothing how the birth happened or who was there or what the angels said to the shepherds after Jesus was born. This version of the Christmas story is what happened before Jesus was born. Like a typical Advent story. Cousin John reminds us to prepare for the great events which are about to happen.

Yes, I know the list of chores is getting longer by the minute. There’s so much to do-and so little time. Unbelievable that it’s already December 4th--less than 3 weeks to get everything done.

Sorry – but John talks about a different kind of preparing.

What do you mean?

Well, he reminds us to repent.

To do what? Why shall I repent? I didn’t do anything wrong?

The repentance you are thinking of is a bit different than what John is talking about. You see, in Greek, the language the gospels were written in, repentance just means to turn around.

But I didn’t get lost. I have a GPS--I don’t need to turn around.

No, this is not what I meant. Not turning around in your car because you took a wrong turn.

You totally confuse me--first you tell me that Cousin John is missing in all nativity scenes, then you try to convince me that we just heard a Christmas story without Mary and Joseph and now you say that we have to turn around in order to prepare for Christmas. That doesn’t make any sense. What exactly do you want to tell me and what does that all have to do with Christmas?

All this is different than what you know. But maybe that makes it more interesting. Because if this is all the same as last year, we might not be able to listen anymore, because we think we know it all.

Ok--I’m open for new stuff. But what has Cousin John to do with Christmas? Why do we talk about him every year in Advent?

John is Jesus’ cousin and he lived in the desert and baptized people.

Ok, that’s why he’s called John the Baptist--I got that far. Isn’t he the dude who is kind of weird?

Yes, you are correct again. He wore camel’s hair and ate locust with honey.

And I always thought my family is strange--I am relieved that even in the Holy Family there’s someone who doesn’t fit the norm. Guess every family has the one odd ball.

I can’t say anything about your family. But John fulfills an important role. He reminds us that Christmas is not all about the stuff and hectic, but that God comes to us into our lives. You see, in the Bible lots of times, God came to people in the desert.

Yeah--hot and lonely.

Besides that, the desert is a place where people experience God directly. Remember Moses was in the desert and God talked to him. Jesus experienced God and was also tempted in the desert for 40 days.

Ok--that was then. But what has the story to do with us now? Do I have to drive thousands of miles just to experience God?

No, you don’t need to drive all these miles to experience God. God can come to you at many places. Have you ever the expression: God is still speaking? But with all the noise going on, you might have better chances or actually hearing God when it’s quiet. That doesn’t have to be a physical desert--but when it’s just God and you. Any kind of quiet, still place would do. Like when you are the first one up in the morning and the house is still calm. Or at work, when everyone is at lunch, the phone is not ringing and you are not surfing the web or on your cell phone?  Or when you are driving a long way in the car--with no radio on. When last did you have some quiet time--time just between God and you?

Good question. You mean a time without my MP3 player, cell phone, I pad or any distraction? Wouldn’t that be boring?

Boring? How can listening to God be boring? It might not be what you want to hear, but I don’t think boring is the right word. Why don’t you come on Wednesday nights to church? We are having the Advent Bible Study called “Simply Wait” and invite people to wait in this busy season.

Waiting for what? How can waiting help me when I have so many things to do?

Maybe waiting might help you with all your chores.
How do you feel when you get hurried and frazzled? When you don’t know where to start to do what first--and the more you stare at the list, the more you realize that the time is running out, then you get frantic, can’t find your wallet, nor the car keys and get uptight and are beside yourself.  Just like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland who runs around saying: “I’m late, I’m late” and:” the hurrier I go, the behinder I get.”

The hurrier I go, the behinder I get--that’s an interesting way of putting it. And you think
John can help me with staying calmer in this hectic time? Is he getting all the chores done for me?

He might not get all the chores done for you, but he can help you to stay calm. He may help you to center so that you find inner peace.
Just like in the following story. A very well known university professor studied hard to find peace. He read many philosophers, studied various religions, and finally ended up visiting a cloister. After couple of days of silence he asked one of the monks. Excuse me, sir, I have been doing this silence thing for a while now, I go to all your prayer services and read the Bible many times per day--but how do I find peace?
The monk invited him for a cup of tea. Those two sat down, and the monk poured the visitor's cup full and then kept on pouring and pouring. The tea began to run over the rim of the cup, across the table, and still the monk poured, and the tea was dripping upon the floor. The professor watched this happening and shouted: Stop--the cup is overflowing, the tea is on the table, and dripping on the floor. The cup is overfilled, no more will go in. The monk replied: You are correct. The cup is full. It is overfilled. The tea is spilling over and onto the floor.
You are like this cup--you are overfilled. Nothing can fit in anymore. The tea is like all the things in your life which fill you up to the rim, and you might not even notice you are overflowing and actually messing up your surroundings as well.
You first need to realize that your cup is overfilled before you can fill it up any more. Then you need to empty your cup, before you can fill it again.
Or in John’s words: you need to turn around, to repent, to focus on what and who is filling up your life and how you can prepare for Christmas.
So, like to make an inventory with our lives? I know how to do that for my job.
Exactly like that. See what is needed, and what you can do without. Cousin John reminds us to prepare for Christmas in a different way. Try it out--and maybe we can add cousin John to our nativity scene after we had a cup of tea together
Amen.
 
Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
December 4, 2011
Second Sunday of Advent



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Sunday, November 27, 2011 -- First Sunday of Advent 

   “How dumb do they think we are?”  I don’t know about you, but this is a question I often find myself asking when I watch television commercials.  Especially the ones that have disclaimers at the bottom of the screen telling me not to do the ridiculous things being done in the commercial—as though I would rush right out and do them if it weren’t for those tiny words on the screen—are the ones that make me ask this question most of all.  “How dumb do they think we are?”
 
   The current commercial that most of all causes me to ask this question shows a bunch of people jumping out of an airplane, not with parachutes, but each holding glowing glass globes.  As these guys are plunging toward earth while holding these globes, thank heavens these words appear at the bottom of my screen: “Do not attempt.”  If not for those words being there in the nick of time I’m sure I would be on an airplane right now about to jump out in that manner!  “How dumb do they think we are?”
 
   I am proud to say that I’m wise enough not to have my view of reality shaped by what is presented in commercials.  And yet, I have to admit how much I do allow my view of reality to be shaped by what is presented in the news.
 
   There is certainly no shortage of things to worry about these days, and whenever I hear, watch, or read the news my worry increases inordinately.  Stories are presented constantly about how bad conditions are in the world—in Europe and in the Middle East.  Stories are presented about how bad things are in our country—in our economy and in congress.  And stories are presented about how bad things are in our area—unemployment statistics or the most shocking crimes.
 
   There is no doubt that if we choose to focus our lives and what shapes our reality on these stories—then there is sure to be plenty of reason for despair.
 
   As we hear—or even repeat—all the things that are terrible, we begin to think we are the generation living in the worst times ever.  As we study more about what has happened in previous times, though, we soon learn that every generation has had reason to think things were the worst ever at their time.
 
   This was certainly true during the time of the Prophet Isaiah, when he cried out the words of this morning’s Old Testament passage.  On behalf of his people, in the despair they were feeling at that time, Isaiah cried out to God, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence!”  I have to admit that fairly often after I’ve heard the latest news this sounds like a very good request to me.  “God, get down here and quick—and clean up this mess!  O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!”
 
   As I have thought about commercials in preparation for this sermon, I have found myself remembering one of the most memorable and effective ones ever.  It first aired in 1959 and some of you may also be able to remember it.
 
   This commercial for “Esso Gasoline” had the tagline, “Put a tiger in your tank,” and in learning more about it I found out that it’s in the “Ad Slogan Hall of Fame”!  No, I hadn’t realized before either that there is an “Ad Slogan Hall of Fame,” but somehow it doesn’t surprise me that there is!  Anyway, for those of you who don’t remember it—and even for those of you who do—allow me to reenact a portion of it.  I will play all three parts—the person bringing his car into the station for gasoline, the gas station attendant, and of course the Tiger.
 
Driver: Pardon me, but what’s the idea of the Tiger on your gas pump?
Attendant: Well, you see, our new “Esso Extra” gasoline puts a Tiger in your tank!
Driver: Well, then, put a Tiger in my tank!
Attendant: Yes, Sir!
Driver: What does the Tiger do in there?
Attendant: Well, you’ll notice several things…smooth performance for one—and extra power!
Driver: Amazing!  Hey, where is he now?
Attendant: Who?
Driver: The Tiger?
Attendant: He’s in your tank, of course!
Tiger: Growl!
Driver: Well, I’ll be darned!
 
   “I’ll be darned.”  That was pretty strong language on television back in 1959!  Oh, and in case you were confused—there really was a time, children, when someone at the station actually pumped the gas for people!
 
   In 1959 lawyers who didn’t feel a need to advise companies to put disclaimers on the screen during their commercials.  If they did, there certainly would have been one with this commercial.  Words at the bottom of the screen would have said: “Notice to drivers—there won’t actually be a real live Tiger living inside your gas tank.”
 
   I’m pretty sure that even without that disclaimer, most people could figure out that a “real living Tiger” wouldn’t be in their gas tank if they bought Esso gasoline.  And yet, with that thought in mind maybe they really would experience a difference in how their cars seemed to run after they’d purchased that brand.
 
   So also for the people listening to Isaiah in the Sixth Century before Christ, most of them did not expect to see the sky ripping apart literally and a man with a long white beard stepping out of it and making the mountains shake as He did.  And yet, with that image in mind, maybe they were open to experiencing a difference in their world and in how life was for them.
 
   Our New Testament lesson for the First Sunday of Advent makes much gentler promises, as Paul begins his letter to the Corinthians by saying, “God will strengthen you,” and “God will be faithful to you to the end.”
 
   Promises for God to strengthen us and to be faithful to us don’t sound as dramatic as putting a Tiger in our tank or tearing open the heavens and coming down here.  They are, however, the promises that mean more than any other possibly could.  God with us and strengthening us—these are the promises of Advent, and they become known to us not through stories of fear, and also not through earth-shaking claims, but in day to day living with our reality shaped by those promises.  “God cares and God is with us.”  There can be no greater promise.
 
   And even Isaiah’s attention-grabbing words that open this morning’s passage are changed into a gentler and more lasting image as the passage goes on.  “We are the clay, O God, and you are the potter.  Shape us and shape our lives,” Isaiah says.  As we make our journey through Advent, and do not rush but take the time necessary for such a journey, what a beautiful image this is for us.  May we take our time and have our view of reality shaped not by commercials and not by the negatives of news stories, but by the promises of God to be with us, to strengthen us, and to shape us as a potter shapes the clay.
 
   On this first day of our Advent journey, we are getting a tune-up before traveling—wanting to change our viewpoints and our expectations to what are most important and most meaningful of all—taking the time necessary to do so as we look for God’s presence and God’s strength in our world and in each of our lives.
 
   And after our tune-up, how good it is to have our driver pull into the gas station as we say “Fill it up with Esso Extra, Driver, and then on to Bethlehem—and we’re taking four weeks to get there, so you don’t have to step on it!”
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
November 27, 2011
First Sunday of Advent


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Sunday, November 20, 2011 -- Thanksgiving Sunday—Reign of Christ Sunday 

   A little later in this service we will sing the hymn, “Rejoice, Ye Pure in Heart!”  I have been singing this song my entire life, but only recently did I think about this word—“Rejoice”—and what it means.  For the first time I have thought to myself, “Okay, so I have sung this song countless times saying that I am rejoicing—but when and how did I first “joice” so that I would be able to do so again.  How is that that I renew that ‘joice subscription’ so that I can re-joice in my life?”
 
   The definition of “rejoice” is to experience joy in a way that is continuing.  “Feel great joy,” “Be glad,” and “Take delight” are the ways that the dictionary defines this word, a word which, I also learned, comes from “Old French!”
 
   As we sing this hymn it is important to note where the editors chose to place it in our hymnals.  It is very late in the book—Number 562—and found in the Thanksgiving section.  I find this interesting because there it has many images and references besides thankfulness.  There is, however, such an overall attitude and energy that reflects thankfulness that it is very appropriate to have it in the Thanksgiving section.
 
   It is also appropriate that this song is placed at the end of our hymnals because the season of Thanksgiving is at the end of the Church Year.  Today is the final Sunday of the Church Year, and is called “Reign of Christ” Sunday.  This Sunday celebrates the fulfillment of all God’s plans.  This song—“Rejoice Ye Pure in Heart”—is also very appropriate to this observance because it certainly lifts up a mood of joyous fulfillment.
 
   The Scripture lesson for today is also an appropriate and certainly very important one.  In recent weeks we have been hearing the parables that Jesus told in His final time of teaching, on the day before He would be arrested, put on trial, and put to death.  Jesus knew that these were the final teachings people would hear from Him—so they were extremely important.  Today—from this final section of teachings—we hear the parable that Jesus chose to teach last of all, the parable of the Last Judgment, when we will all stand before Jesus.
 
   To some people at that judgment the most beautiful words imaginable will be said.  “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”  “Why is this?” those rejoicing in this news must ask.  And Jesus answers, “It is because you fed me when I was hungry, gave me something to drink when I was thirsty, clothed me when I was naked, took care me when I was sick, and visited me when I was in prison.” “What? When did we do that?” these people now ask.  “Whenever you did this for the least of one of my brothers and sisters,” Jesus concludes, “you did it for me.”
 
   These are powerful images, to say the least, but I still am not sure I have answered my earlier question.  Just how is it that I go about renewing my “joice” subscription?  Joy is such an elusive quality.  How do we find it—and, even more, how do we hold onto it as an ongoing part of our lives?  How do we rejoice?
 
   I remember very well when the term “burnout” was coined.  I was early in my ministry when this word began to be used frequently to describe people who had worked too hard in their profession or in other ways had depleted their inner resources.
 
   Well, it didn’t take me long to conclude that this was exactly what I had.  “‘Burnout’—yes, that must be it!”
 
   I made an appointment with our congregation’s area minister.  Dr. Jacob Wagner was his name, and I went to his office to talk to him.  He listened kindly as I poured out my troubles—told him how much those people in my church were expecting of me and how impossible it was to do such a job completely.
 
   I laid it all out, and then I sat back and waited, just sure that he was going to say to me, “Oh, you poor thing!”  Or better yet I expected that he would say, “Harold, I am going to drive straight to your church and demand to talk to your Trustees!  You need more vacation time—maybe a couple weeks of paid leave at ‘Club Med’—and immediately!  And that of course is just for starters!”
 
   Imagine my shock when instead he said some things that were as opposite of that as possible!  Dr. Wagner began to outline a “prescription,” all right, but it was not the one I was expecting.  First he went to his bookshelves, and pulled out some volumes on the meaning of being called into ministry and told me that in a month we would meet again and discuss these books.  Then he told me to spend more time in prayer.  And finally he told me to increase the time I was spending in making pastoral calls—visits to people who were hungry or sick or in prison.
 
   As I went to my car and returned home I kept thinking about all the things I wished I had said to him—and couldn’t believe I hadn’t.  “Dr. Wagner,” I should have shouted, “I don’t think you’re listening!  What about ‘poor me’?”  Instead I had shown such respect that not only did I not complain, but I actually said I would try to do these things.
 
   And then—when I did try to do these things—what amazing changes began to occur.  By giving more, I found that I was receiving much more in return.  By thinking about beyond myself, I was finding energy and a thankful spirit—a joy—that I had not had for some time.
 
   I think quite often about that visit to Dr. Wagner and what happened afterward.  And I try to renew his prescription—and thus my “joice subscription”—as often as I can.
 
   There are many days when I have more than enough to do—a sermon to write, a worship service to plan, letters to send, reports for a meeting—any number of tasks on my list to get done.  On such a day it certainly would be understandable if I didn’t make it to that nursing home or hospital room or the home of someone in our church that may be in need of our support.  Then I think of Dr. Wagner, and I go to make that pastoral call, even when I could justify saying I don’t I have the time.
 
   And then, as I sit with this person in a time of importance or of need, I find that my energy is renewed.  Suddenly I have more insights than I did before for that sermon I need to write or project I need to do.  Suddenly my reservoir of joy is re-filled, because by offering what is in me I find that God is blessing me with even more than I have given.
 
   Dr. Wagner stressed to me that day that this “prescription” he was giving me was not his idea.  “These ideas are from Jesus,” he said. “I’m just reminding you about them.”
 
   In a few minutes we will close worship with “Rejoice, Ye Pure in Heart.”  The third verse of this song is most meaningful of all for me, declaring Jesus’ ideas as Dr. Wagner did in yet another way.  “Yes, on through life’s long path, still chanting as you go, from youth to age, by night and day, in gladness and in woe, Rejoice, Rejoice, Rejoice, give thanks and sing.”
 
   How surprising it was for me and continues to be that by offering to care and give more—even more of joy returns to me.
 
   Yes, that was and is surprising.  But it is nothing compared to the surprise there will be for you—and I pray for me—when Jesus says, “Truly, just as you did any of these things for the least of my brothers and sisters, you did them for me!”
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
November 20, 2011
Thanksgiving Sunday—Reign of Christ Sunday


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Sunday, November 13, 2011 -- “Giving Thanks” Sunday 

   Another title for this morning’s sermon could be “A Tale of Four Churches,” because I will tell a brief story from four different congregations during these next few minutes.
 
   The first story comes from a church in Ohio that I served many years ago.  After six months of being there I realized that there were still some members of the church I had yet to meet.  One such person was Millie.  I asked the Deacons about Millie and no one knew what had happened—but something must have—because Millie had been very active in the church and then suddenly stopped being involved at all.  I called Millie and asked if I might come to visit her.  I had heard wonderful things about her, I said, and hoped to get to know her.  At first she said “no,” but then she did agree that I could visit.
 
   Our conversation began pleasantly as she told me how many years she had with the church and how many friends she had there.  Then her expression and body language changed as she began to tell me something else.  That church held a big dinner every year.  This dinner was known to be so good that hundreds of people came to it.  Two years before this Millie had signed up to bring her special potato salad for that dinner.  The day of the dinner, however, was awful for her.  One thing after another went wrong and it was all she could do to make her potato salad and get it to the church, even though she knew it was getting late in the serving time.  When she arrived, stressed and exhausted, carrying her large bowl through the side door, one of the members of the church saw her and looked at his watch.  “Sorry,” he said, “I guess we don’t need your potato salad this year.”
 
   Millie looked directly at me and now, “I took what I had brought out to my car—and I haven’t been back to the church since.”
 
   The second church is one I know only through a friend.  It is in another state and I know it only because their minister has become a friend by attending conferences with me through the years.  His church has some very wealthy members—or, at least, did in the past.  Years ago one member gave the church an extremely large amount of money, with the stipulation that it should be used always to keep the church exactly as it was.  The building and grounds were to be cared for and the salaries of the minister, music and office staff and custodians all paid for from this fund.
 
   “Wow, how fantastic that must be!” was my reaction as he told me this.  He was a very capable minister, delivering excellent sermons and more.  The church had an outstanding music minister, a beautiful sanctuary and landscaping—and hardly any involved members.  “I just can’t get our folks to care about what is happening at the church,” he would say to me, “or to be involved in the ongoing life of it.”
 
   My initial response about how fantastic his situation must be now changed, as felt such sadness in it.
 
   The third church in this sermon is much farther away—on the other side of the world, actually.  I recently met the minister of a church in sub-Saharan Africa, one of the poorest places in the world, and he told about the annual Harvest Sunday at their church.  “Harvest Sunday” is the day in the fall when people bring special gifts for the work of their church through the coming year.  Some people have jobs that allow them to make a financial offering or a promise for such offerings throughout the year.  Many others, however, have no money, but “live off the land” through small gardens or flocks of animals, and they each bring something from those resources on Harvest Sunday.
 
   Each year, this minister said, during the weeks before this service takes place, he hears the members of his church talking to one another, and what he hears is, “What are you bringing to the Lord this year?”  With great excitement each person is thinking about what he or she has, how blessed he has been blessed this year, and what he can give to God’s work in response.  “What are you bringing to the Lord this year?”
 
   This is in essence the question Jesus asks in the parable we hear this morning—“The Parable of the Talents.”  “What are you bringing to the Lord?”  Keep in mind that this parable is told by Jesus only one or perhaps two days before He will be arrested and put on trial.  There is urgency in what Jesus wants His disciples to hear and understand, as He knows that soon they will have to carry on their ministry without Him at their side.
 
   “Before leaving for a journey,” Jesus says, “a man entrusted gifts of money to his servants.  To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, and then he left.  Most of us are familiar enough with this story to know what follows.  The time comes when the man returns and asks what they have done with what he gave them.  He learns that the one with five talents has used and invested them and turned them into ten.  The one with two talents has done the same and turned them into four.  The servant with one talent, however, has buried—and hidden it.  “Here it is, exactly as you gave it to me,” this servant now declares.
 
   “What are you bringing to the Lord this year?”  That is the question asked by people of that church in Africa.  This is also the question asked by Jesus.  Notice that the celebration he offers to one who now has four talents is the same as it is with the one who now has ten.  What matters is not the quantity but the faithfulness in what we bring to the Lord.
 
   The fourth church is one with which we are all quite familiar, because it is Westerville Community UCC.  I think of how we just completed our annual Holly Day Bazaar, and how we will direct all money earned at the Bazaar for mission and for special projects and not to cover budgeted expenses.  In terms of budgeted expenses, we apply do apply the rental income we receive for use of our building.  This rental income, however, only pays a portion of the utilities and ongoing maintenance that such use adds to our costs each year.  The one other area of income used in our budgeting is whatever interest we earn on funds while they are waiting to be used.  This interest, however, does not even equal inflation, so whatever interest we apply simply helps us to stay somewhat closer to “even” in that regard.
 
   The “tale of this church” is that all the money needed for God’s mission and ministry each year must come from us—must come from what we give in return from whatever “talents” we have first been given by God.
 
   I think about Millie and what she heard as she stood in the doorway with her potato salad after she had worked so hard to get it there before the dinner ended.  In that moment when she was told they didn’t need her potato salad, what she heard was that they did not need her.
 
   In my minister friend’s church where everything is paid for without offerings needed from the members, he can’t get them to become more involved in the life of the church.  For those whose gifts are not needed, they will likely not experience the joy and blessing of being part of the church.
 
   Some people might say how sad it is that we—you and I—must support the entire life and mission of this church.  But I say to you—“What blessing it is that this is so.”  I say this because as we take on this responsibility we can then come to realize that you and I are not alone in doing so, but we are in partnership with God, who first provides us with all the blessings we need to do the work of this church.
 
   “What are you bringing to the Lord this year?” people thousands of miles away ask each other.  Right here in this church the same question is asked.  As we respond faithfully the same celebration is experienced.  “Enter into the joy of your master.”
 
   This week I heard about someone who was asked by Dave Thomas to invest with him when he was trying to start his restaurant called “Wendy’s.”  This man said “no”—and today would be a multi-millionaire if he had said “yes.”  I’m sure you have heard such stories as well, of missed opportunities.
 
   Jesus’ parable ends with rather stark words to the man who did not invest his talent.  He is “cast out into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”  I used to think Jesus was being cruel in saying this.  In light of the urgency of that time when Jesus told this story, however, I think about it now and I realize there is no cruelty in what Jesus says, but rather a statement of fact.
 
   Some of the saddest words people can say are, “If only,” or “Oh, what might have been.”  What outer darkness it is—and what weeping and gnashing of teeth are part of it—when people are left saying, “Oh, what might have been” or “If only” I hadn’t buried that talent and that opportunity.
 
   How grateful I am for the opportunities when I do not miss them—and pray that you are as well.  When we invest the gifts God has provided us and enter into partnership with God in the use of them, the greatest blessing of all follows.  All that our church is doing in 2011 and all we will do in 2012 has come to be and will come to be through the gifts that you and I offer—because every one of us is needed here.
 
   Jesus is saying to the servants who invested their talents—and says to us as we invest ours—“Enter into the joy of your Master.”  As you ponder the litany heard earlier this morning of just some of what has been shared through our gifts this year, I pray that you are experiencing not regret but joy as you know integral you are to these and all the blessings we extend.  I pray that you are continuing to ask—and to celebrate—what you are bringing to the Lord this year.
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
November 13, 2011
“Giving Thanks” Sunday


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Sunday, October 30, 2011 -- Consecration Sunday 

   As he often does, earlier this month Hank Stonerook got our Men’s Club meeting going by telling a series of jokes—with this month’s theme being church jokes.  For reasons I’m sure you can understand, there aren’t many “church jokes” I haven’t heard—and I had already heard all of these.  Many others in the room probably had, too.  But that didn’t matter; they all went over big and got great laughs.  Maybe it was Hank’s delivery!
 
   Anyway, the first joke in Hank’s monologue was I am sure the first “church joke” I can remember hearing.  You’ll be able to tell that this joke has been around awhile by the gender of all the characters in it.  Three children are discussing what their fathers do for a living and how much they get paid for their work.  The first child is a doctor’s son and says, “My dad just takes care of someone who is sick for a while, and he gets this much money for it.”  The second child is a lawyer’s son and says, “My dad just goes to court with someone and after the trial he gets this much money for it.”  Finally, the third child, who is a minister’s son, says, “That’s nothing.  My dad just talks for fifteen minutes and it takes four men to carry all the money to him!”
 
   The idea of ushers carrying the money forward after the sermon reminds me of another story—one that did not make me laugh but instead made me nervous.  Early in my ministry the idea was being promoted to move the offering from the middle of the service to the end.  “People should give in response to God’s Word that has just been preached to them.  That should be how the service ends,” was the recommendation.
 
   About the time that I was considering this idea I heard a story told by a man who had gone to worship at a church for the first time—and the order in that service had the offering right after the sermon and at the end.  As this first-time attendee listened to the sermon he was quite moved.  “I’m sure I have a fifty dollar bill in my wallet,” he thought to himself, “and I am going to put that fifty in the offering plate!”  As the sermon went on, however, the minister said a couple things this man wasn’t sure he could agree with.  “Maybe twenty dollars will do today,” he then found himself thinking.  As the sermon went still longer and the minister challenged the listeners to take action in their lives in ways this man didn’t want to do, he thought, “This really isn’t much of a sermon.  I won’t put anything in the offering today!”
 
   As I heard that story and thought in other ways as well about having the offering after the sermon—and, as I noted, this was early in my ministry—I wondered if that was a good idea.  “That’s a lot of pressure on me to have a sermon that inspires but doesn’t upset anyone—every Sunday!” I thought to myself.
 
   Speaking very honestly with you at this time, it isn’t so much a sense of pressure that I feel as it is a continuing sense of unease.  I have been employed as a minister for a long time—since the year after I finished college and had just begun seminary.  I have now been leading worship for many years, including each year the annual Stewardship Sunday service—when we appeal to our members and friends of the church to commit themselves to giving to the work of our church.
 
   What brings my sense of unease is knowing—and knowing that you know as well—that a portion of the money I am hoping you will give will eventually come to me.  This is how I make my living.  This is how my family is supported.
 
   I am sure that not only for myself but for Pastor Sigrid and for any committed minister on this Sunday of the year—not only do all those jokes about ministers come to mind but much more as well.  There are many jokes: “All he does is talk for 15 minutes and four ushers carry all the money to him”—or “Why do we pay him so much when he only works one day a week?”  And I am sure there are many other jokes you know as well—but, we are not going to turn this into an “open mike” time so please don’t expect to get to stand up and tell yours!
 
   The jokes are usually pretty harmless and well intentioned.  Beyond the jokes, however, there are also criticisms and comments—often ones not so harmless.  “All the church wants is my money!”  How many times have you—and I—heard that?  “Why does the church even have to talk about money or ask for it?  It should only be concerned about spiritual matters.”  That is perhaps the most common—and difficult—criticism of all.
 
   There are many questions and criticisms, jokes and complaints related to churches and especially to ministers about money.  And as I think back to those early years of my ministry, I remember coming to a time when these pressures that I was feeling almost caused me to quit this profession.  “It’s an impossible job to do this and make everything happen—make people feel good about knowing that their gifts are necessary, not only for the pastor to be paid but for the church to continue to meet its obligations and continue to exist at all,” I kept thinking to myself.
 
   But I was spared—I was blessed as much as I have ever been—when God said to me, “Harold, not only is it not all about you—but it also isn’t all up to you.”  And praise God that I then realized: People do not give in response to my sermon.  They give in response to God’s grace!
 
   In our Psalm today we read, “O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good….Let the redeemed of the Lord say so!”  Those who know God’s goodness—those who have been redeemed by the Lord—those who have experienced God’s grace—respond!  As we know what God has given to us and done for us, we simply must respond!
 
   The movie, Chariots of Fire, centers on the life of runner, Eric Liddell, who feels called to become a missionary—and he also feels called to continue to compete in races.  One day he tries to explain to his sister how both of these can be.  “I believe God made me for a purpose,” he says to her.  “I also know that God made me able to run fast, and when I run, I feel God’s pleasure.”
 
   I say to you: “Find your purpose—and run as God makes you able—and know God’s pleasure.”
 
   Many years ago a minister friend of mine told me about a Monday when his church was quiet and he went to the Sanctuary to get something, thinking no one was there.  The Sanctuary was quiet, but it was not empty.  He was surprised to see a high school boy of his congregation who had been training to become a gymnast.  There was this teen-ager, thinking no one else was watching as he faced the cross and practiced—in the somber quiet and presence of God—the routine he would perform later that week.
 
   I say to you: “Whatever your talents may be, offer them first to God and then know that their glory will become known even more by others.”
 
   This summer I listened to a minister who serves a Christian church in Mozambique, Africa—in one of the poorest areas of the world—as he told about offerings at his church.  His parish is located in a rural area away from any city.  Last year some of his parishioners had no money that they could give at the time of offering, and he told them this was okay—that God understood.  They told him, however, that they had to give something in response to what God had given to them.  The very next Sunday he noticed in the offering baskets that, along with the coins and bills, there were bundles of berries.  In that rural area a kind of berry grows that is considered a delicacy by people who live in the cities.  And so some of his people who had nothing else they could give had gone out to gather berries for the church to sell.
 
   These berries, however, need care and processing before they can be sold.  So the next day the Deacons of his church cleaned them and packaged the berries for sale and took them to the nearest city.  They earned sixteen dollars by selling these berries—not a great deal of money especially in light of how much effort the Deacons made in order to do this.  But how important it was, this minister stated, for his Deacons to honor those gifts and have them become part of their church’s ministry.
 
   I say to you: “Whatever you give to God’s work through our church will be honored and will become part of our church’s ministry.
 
   Sometimes I hear complaints from people about why the church talks about money so much—or about why the minister is paid so much for working so little.  But that’s okay—because it isn’t about me and doesn’t depend on me.  It is about God’s grace—it is in response to God’s grace—that we are called to give.  And as for the reason that the church talks about money and must talk about money—is that Jesus did.  Jesus talked more about money and about our possessions and how we use them more than He did about anything else.
 
   In our brief passage from Matthew this morning Jesus offers a startling concept.  “The greatest among you will serve, and will not exalt yourselves but humble yourselves,” Jesus declares.
 
   I think of a scene from the old “MASH” television series.  Klinger, a lowly corporal from inner city Toledo, is speaking to Winchester, a surgeon and major from the wealthiest part of Boston, asking him if their families can get together after the war.
 
   “Klinger,” Winchester says to him, “my family has accumulated great amounts of wealth with the expressed purpose of not having to associate with families like yours!”  As opposite as can possibly be from such an outlook, Jesus says that those who could be exalted must instead choose to be humble, and that those who could get away with doing the least must instead serve and give—in response to God’s grace.
 
   The offering has already taken place this morning.  It came before the sermon because it does not depend on the sermon.  Our offerings are not in response to a sermon but in response to God’s grace.  Our offerings to God throughout the remainder of this year and into the coming year are made because we know that the Lord is good, and because we who are redeemed in the Lord must say so.
 
   And so it is that whether we run or are gymnasts or have any other talent—we offer these talents to God and feel God’s pleasure.  And whether we can only put meager gifts into the offering or whether we have much to give—we do so humbly and let God do the exalting, because we give in response to God’s grace.
 
   That minister from Africa also told us that in their country the people do not stay seated during the offering, but must jump and dance during that time the baskets are being passed because they become so excited by the meaning of it.  I don’t expect that we are about to start doing exactly that anytime soon.  But I do know that we have the offering at the center of our worship because our offerings are at center of our lives.  And I know that as the offerings are brought forth each Sunday morning we stand and proclaim most joyfully of all—“We give Thee but Thine own” at 8:30 service and “Praise God from Whom all blessings flow” at 10:30 service.  Why?  It is because “God is good”—and the redeemed must say so, giving in response to God’s grace.
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
October 30, 2011
Consecration Sunday


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Sunday, November 6, 2011 -- Daylight Saving Time Ends 

Regardless of what country or culture, kids play similar games. Sometimes the best are those that require no manuals or controls, those with no fancy equipment—all you need is space and other kids to play with. Games you can play inside and outside—and it doesn’t really matter who is all around to play it with you.

One of the old favorite games—is Hide and Seek. The game is simple—and lots of fun. One person is it, he or she turns around, counts to a certain number and in the meantime all the other kids try to find the best hiding places and keep absolute still. After ‘it’ has finished counting, we hear the shout:

Ready or not—here I come.
Ready or not—here I come—that’s how it goes not only for Hide and Seek, but for many things in life.
Ready or not—here I come—this could be all the chores waiting for you.
Ready or not—here I come—the busy Thanksgiving and Christmas season.
Ready or not—here I come—just like in today’s story from the New Testament.
 
The parable of the 10 bridesmaids—as it is sometimes called, is not necessarily one of my favorites. This wedding story is not like your typical celebration of a young couple getting married and everyone being happy about their love. Jesus liked parties. There are lots of stories in the Gospels where Jesus is having a good time. Today’s parable is about a party as well—a wedding. Wedding customs were a bit different in those days.
 
The tradition here in the States is to have at least two bridesmaids who walk in front of the bride at the beginning of the worship ceremony. The best man attends the groom—but not bridesmaids—like mentioned in our story. In Jesus’ time the bridesmaids wait for the groom with their lamps shining and escort him into the wedding ceremony and feast.
 
The bridegroom is late. He arrives at midnight with his party to come to the party—but half of the guests are already asleep. Surprise—I can hear everybody shouting. But the late bridegroom is not the only surprise.  There are ten bridesmaids—five of them foolish and five of them wise. Or to quote the Greek, which is not as gentle in their vocabulary: five are prudent and five are morons! The five prudent bridesmaids have all enough oil for their lamp. Lamps were used to welcome the guest of honor, much as we might put lanterns outside our homes at holiday time. The five foolish bridesmaids have no oil.
 
When the bridegroom arrives, they have to scramble and find a merchant and buy theirs at the last minute. At the end they are excluded from the party. Our parable concludes with the warning: Keep awake therefore. Or as the King James Version says: Watch therefore, for you do not know the day nor the hour.
 
As in any joke, the most important part of a parable is in the end. The punch line—not the story itself is so important, but the conclusion—the end is what makes the joke funny.
The same in our parable: Our story is more than to bring enough oil to a weeklong wedding or have enough refreshments for a party you are hosting.
 
The last sentence is what gives this parable its kick. For centuries people have been scared with this message—they were frightened, they were afraid that they would not keep awake, and would not watch enough for Christ’s big return.
 
There are many churches that are concerned about the end times. There are lots of people who have done much planning and used all kind of mathematical and so called scientific calculations of when exactly the time is that Jesus will come again. They are sure about the exact date and time. To these people I would like to reply, "I used to get quite involved in figuring these things out.  I had charts, maps and all kinds of spreadsheets.  Then I decided that God didn't need me to help with the plans.  So, I've resigned from the Planning Committee and want to be part of the Welcoming Committee!"
 
In my opinion this parable is much more than just a warning not to fall asleep. Last night we gained one additional hour, so the danger of falling asleep today is not as big as in other days. I don’t want to be as splitting hair, but I believe there is a small but important difference with what words to choose. The Greek word that is used for “Keep awake” or “watch” has two meanings. It is much more than just to keep awake or to watch, but even more important: pay attention, to be ready so that nothing can overtake you.
 
To be awake is just not enough, we are asked to be ready, in order to do something.
 
Just as in the game of Hide and Seek: Ready or not, here I come.
 
When is Jesus coming back? I’ll be very honest with you. I don’t know exactly what the return of Jesus will look like, and I have no earthly idea when it will happen. The good news is we don’t need to know all these details. There’s no need to loose any sleep over this. But the questions remain: How do we get ready? How do we prepare for his second coming? What shall we do while Jesus is gone?
 
We are supposed to be like the wise brides maids ready all the time. This means more than just having enough resources with us, more than being a good boy scout and always being prepared. The bridesmaids in our story didn’t know when the groom was coming—and neither do we. But they did what they were supposed to do—carrying enough oil with them. They were prepared.  They did what was expected of them. They were not afraid of anything. Just like what we are supposed to do as Christians in this world. When we live as who we are asked to be, when we feed the hungry, take care of the poor and spread the message of hope, we don’t need to be afraid. We are ready, we are prepared—for anything that may come.
 
Just like in the following story: Years ago, a farmer owned land along the Atlantic coast. He constantly advertised for help. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the ocean, wreaking disaster on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received more and more refusals. Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him. "Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man.

The farmer was puzzled by this answer. But he was desperate and hired the man anyhow. The man worked hard around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work. Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the helper’s sleeping quarters. He shook the little man, and yelled, “Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!” The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, “No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows.”

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down.
Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his worker meant. He was ready, he was prepared for any wind. So the farmer went back to bed and slept during the storm

When we're prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically, and trust in God in all we do, we have nothing to fear. Even when we hear the voice: Ready or not—here I come.
 
Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
November 6, 2011
Daylight Saving Time Ends


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Sunday, October 23, 2011 -- Membership Orientation Sunday 

Next week is Halloween. Kids like to dress up. Like many little girls, I wanted to be a princess. One day my mom had a surprise for me. She promised that we were going to visit a castle. And to top it off, we were going to enjoy hot chocolate and afternoon cake in the castle as well. I could hardly wait--a dream come true--to visit a castle, to sit at a royal table in the fancy dining room and enjoy my favorite drink and some cake. I felt ever so special. Which dress do I wear for this specific big event? Finally the choice was made: Black shoes, white socks and the blue velvet dress with the big bow in the back.

Finally--after what seemed like an eternity--the day arrived. After lunch time we drove to Kassel and from the distance I already saw the castle on top of the mountain. This is so exciting. Shortly Mom and I would be in inside this beautiful magnificent building and even sit down to eat. My imagination went wild--is the prince going to sit with us as well? What if he talks to me? Shall I curtsy?

We parked, and walked to the entrance. I was a bit disappointed not to see a red carpet or servants waiting for us--but all that didn’t matter--we were in the castle. We visited the chambers and the living areas of the duke and duchess who resided here many years ago. The smooth velvet material, the couch looked so inviting. Whenever I reached out my hand to touch something I heard my Mom: “just look, don’t touch.”  But I wanted to feel how soft the pillows were--but here came the voice again: “just look, don’t touch.”  Finally we came to the dining room--the table was set--so many plates and fancy china and many glasses at each place. This looked so inviting--and Mom said we were going to have hot chocolate in the castle: so I sat down on this fluffy chair, and waited for the waitress to serve me my hot chocolate. I lifted up the cup since I wasn’t sure if the cup was already filled--and there again was the voice: “just look--don’t touch.  No, this is not the place we are going to stop for hot chocolate.”  What a disappointment--I was waiting all this time for the special moment--and all I heard was: “just look, but don’t touch.”

(Yes, we did have the promised hot chocolate and cake was not to be enjoyed in the dining area, but in the nearby café opposite the parking lot next to the gift shop.)
 
Just look, don’t touch--these words could have been said to Moses as well. No, he didn’t visit an antique castle or a toy store, but he must have been disappointed as well.

Today’s Old Testament is the last chapter in the book of Deuteronomy, the end of the portion of the Bible also known as the Torah or the Pentateuch. At this important junction of the biblical stories, we hear that Moses, the leader and spokesperson of the people dies. Moses has been the main character four biblical books--Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. He led the Israelites--out of slavery in Egypt to Mt Sinai, through many trials and now stands at the edge of the Promised Land. He is just about to enter into the promise God made so many generations ago to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But Moses is not permitted to enter the land. Moses dies just before his mission is accomplished. What a way to end his vision of setting his people free.

Moses can look, but can’t touch. God shows him a vision of that land, promised so many years ago. But he will never set a foot in it. Moses will never enter the Promised Land--how disappointing for him.

The story of Moses reminded me of a famous speech. This speech was given by a leader of people, who similar to Moses tried to set the people free. Similar to Moses, he was able to look, but couldn’t touch the Promised Land. It is the speech given by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., on April 3, 1968, the night before he was assassinated. He addressed the crowd in Memphis and he concludes with the following words:

“Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people will get to the Promised Land. And so I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man! Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!!”

One day later Martin Luther King was assassinated--he saw, but never touched the Promised Land.
Moses, Martin Dr King Junior--these are just two examples of leaders, who had a great vision, but never saw the results of their hard work. For years they worked hard--but never could touch the Promised Land. It’s easy to feel disappointed. It’s so easy to be disappointed and think: “I did all this for nothing? Why bother if I can’t reap the fruit of my hard work. If I had known all the time, I would not have put so much effort into it. Why bother? I knew it, one person alone can’t make a difference.”

We have heard these and many other similar statements before. Maybe we said or felt them ourselves. But then we might be inspired by stories we read in the paper. Yesterday was National Make a Difference Day. Millions of people, all over the country contributed to make the world a better place to live. Our family joined others as we volunteered in a local project.

We might never see the results of our work. We might never meet the people we helped. Couple of hours of hands on work might not seem much in light of all the need in the world. But instead of getting all upset of how useless our hard work might be, maybe it is healthier to think differently. Maybe we shouldn’t worry so much about seeing results. Maybe we shouldn’t spend so much energy on immediate success. Maybe it is better not to focus on what we achieve or not achieve, but rather focus on the people we help.

How many of us work day after day without ever knowing what difference we make. Just to name a few--and there are many more who day in day out work and give their lives without ever realizing what impact they have. Thank you to all parents, grandparents, teachers, tutors, mentors, coaches, social workers, doctors, police officers, fire fighters, and all of you who work patiently with people--we may never realize what difference we make. We may never realize how lives are changed.
But for those of us who do it anyway, for those of us who want to make a difference in the world regardless of what others may think or say, I want to share this traditional Russian Fable written by Leo Tolstoy.

There was an old man out working in a field planting apple trees. He dug the hole, put the tree in the ground, and tamped down the dirt. Then he went on and dug another hole. As the old man was working, along came two teenagers. The teenagers decided to tease the old man. One said, “Hey, old man. What are you doing?”  The old man replied, “Can't you see, I'm planting apple trees.”  The other boy said, “Yeah, I can see that, but don't you know it will take five to six years before any fruit on that tree is ripe. Old man, you are wasting your time. You will probably be dead and in the ground yourself before the first apple is ripe.” They both laughed at their cleverness.

The old man stopped for a moment. He said, “You know, you are right. I will probably never see a red apple on this tree. But I am not planting these trees for myself. It is hope that I am planting. I am planting these trees for my children and my children's children. Someday, a hundred years from now, a little boy or girl will climb up into this tree. They will pick a ripe red apple. When they eat it, I hope they will think of me and smile.”

May we be inspired to plant apples for future generations, may we be motivated by people like Moses to follow God and to lead people out of bondage to the Promised Land even if we can just look, and not touch.

Amen.
 
Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
October 23, 2011
Membership Orientation Sunday


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Tuesday, May 24, 2011  

Saturday, December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve 

   Tillie, a member of a church I used to serve, was an extremely caring and concerned person.  One Sunday I preached a sermon about a rather harrowing experience I had had the week before.  This was long before the days of cell phones or GPS systems—or even a “Triple A” membership, in my case—and my car had broken down in a remote area where I did not know anyone.  In my sermon I told about some of the things I had experienced while in that very vulnerable and uncertain situation—not knowing how I would get out of it and needing to rely on the help of complete strangers.
 
   When the service ended I went to one of the doorways to greet worshipers, and I could see Tillie practically fighting her way past other people to make it to me.  When she did she grabbed my hands and looked at me with such worry on her face.  “Oh, Pastor,” she cried out, “did you ever make it back home?”
 
   I wanted to say, “Tillie, I’m right here talking to you—of course I made it back home!”  Tillie, however, wasn’t convinced and wanted to know how I had made it back, so I gave her a brief explanation.  Only then did that very worried look on her face begin to disappear.
 
   We have heard again this evening the simplest story—and yet the most beautiful and powerful story the world has ever been told.  We read how Joseph and Mary had to travel from their home in Nazareth all the way to Bethlehem—the equivalent of two states away—because of government regulations at the time.  Bethlehem was a long way from home for them—not only without a cell phone or GPS, but traveling by donkey—and with Mary nine months pregnant.
 
   In that crowded city where they do not know anyone and cannot find usual accommodations, they realize that right here and right now Mary is going into labor!  “While they were there,” we read, “the time came for her to deliver her child.”  “Oh,” I can hear Tillie crying out at this point: “will they ever make it back home?”  Then we hear the next sentence, and it changes everything—in this story, in the world and in each of our lives.  “And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”
 
   Author Wendell Berry has written, “It gets darker and darker—and then Jesus is born.”  It gets darker and darker, and then Jesus is born.
 
   I think often of dear Tillie and how naïve she was.  But now I find myself asking, could it be that I am the one who is naïve?
 
   Yes, I am here—and safe—right now.  You can see that.  But did this “just happen” or have I been blessed in countless times and ways that this is so?  None of us “just happens” to be here.  Every one of us has had times of being the recipient of God’s incredible gifts of grace, blessed by the kindness of strangers, and guided by the light of providence that has shown on our path.
 
   There have been many times when it got darker and darker—and then Jesus was born.  How did that light break forth at just the right time?  What caused that person who would never see me again to be so kind?  Where did I find the strength to do what I needed to do at just the right moment?
 
   Tillie is right.  What is most important cannot be taken for granted.  It got darker and darker—and then Jesus was born.  And that is how and that is why I am here, safely back home, as you are as well.
 
   Karen Carpenter, with her exquisite voice, many years ago recorded a song that first introduced me to the idea of “Christmas” as a verb!  In this song she is away from the one she loves and for that person she sings, “But I can dream, and in my dreams I’m ‘Christmasing’ with you.”  “Christmasing”—is that a word?  My “spell check” doesn’t think so.  “Christmas”—is this a verb?  My “grammar check” doesn’t think so.
 
   And yet as surely as Tillie wants to know how I got back before she can be sure that I am back, just that surely “Christmas” is more a verb than a noun.  Christmas is a verb—a verb of action and a verb of being—the being of God’s powerful presence in our lives, and the verb of our being powerfully present in the lives of others.
 
   One of the most remarkable people of the 19th century was Philips Brooks.  Philips Brooks is best known today as the author of the beautiful hymn we sang earlier in this service.  “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” he wrote, “how still we see thee lie.  The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”  Philips Brooks had the gift of writing beautifully, and from everything I have learned about him that beautiful poetry came forth as an expression of what was most remarkable of all about him—and that was his presence—his powerful presence.
 
   In the 19^th century, newspapers were the major communication form.  They were then what the internet is today.  Facebook today has nothing on what newspapers communicated at that time about people’s lives day to day and even hour to hour.  Here is a brief portion of an article in one of the daily papers of that time telling what happened in their town one day.  “The day opened cloudy and with overall gloom.  But then at noon Philips Brooks came downtown and everything brightened.”
 
   I think about such a person that his presence brightened and changed everything—and I realize that this is what God’s light through Christ has done for each of us.  “Emmanuel—God us”—Christmas is a verb because it changes everything for us.  And then, having received this great gift, we are called by God to extend it to others.
 
   How often people say, “Why doesn’t somebody do something?”  Could you or I be that “somebody”?  Mahatma Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  Or, as a simple poem puts it, “The love in your heart wasn’t put there to stay.  Love isn’t love till you give it away.”

   “It gets darker and darker—and then Jesus is born.”  Mary and Joseph—with baby Jesus—would make it home safely.  And so have you and I.
 
   Because we have made it home, we are now able to help someone else also make it home.  When someone is lost or in despair—you or I can be the powerful presence to help that person make it safely home.
 
   Yes, I am here—and I will no longer be naïve enough to take this for granted.  I am here because when it was darkest for me, Jesus was born.  And because Jesus was born and lives in me I can be powerfully present for someone else.  So can you.  We can change “Christmas” from a noun to a verb each time that we, by our presence, help lift the gloom so that someone can see his or her way safely home.
 
Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community United Church of Christ
December 24, 2011
Christmas Eve



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