The Holy Spirit's Work by Old North Abbey on Mixcloud

Ascended & Incarnate Lord by Old North Abbey on Mixcloud

Seeing the Source of the Power by Old North Abbey on Mixcloud

Jesus the Extremist by Oldnorthabbey on Mixcloud

Certainly, this is a wonderful time of year, but for many people it can be a difficult time. It may conjure up hard memories, it may put us back in contact with friends or family with whom we don’t get along. What happened in Newtown, CT Friday is the furthest thing from peace. Given all the talk about peace some may resonate more with the verses from Jeremiah 6 than the verses typically referenced this time of year. Jeremiah laments when everyone says, “‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.”

With all this talk about peace on earth, and Paul’s mention of peace twice in this passage, I don’t want us to gloss over the fact that peace is not easy to come by. If Christ really brings peace, then how is that manifest? Or is peace simply a cliche term that names a kind of far-off hope? Or perhaps it’s a way of suspending reality for a moment to give us some relief from the day-to-day? In other words, is ‘peace’ just another way of saying, “Can’t you just drop it. It’s Christmas.”

The truth is, the peace of Christ is a reality. It is not a rose-colored glasses way of being detached from a world that can be very dark sometimes. In fact, true peace is quite the opposite. True peace abides regardless of how dark the world may seem. It is fully aware of hard times, yet it is unwavering amidst changing circumstances. True peace allows us to mourn with the people of Newtown, for example, without being driven to hopelessness. Peace allows us to remain steady amidst a moment even that tragic because it is not contingent upon bad things not happening in the world. True peace, instead, is steady because it is based upon the constant presence of God. “The Lord is at hand,” Paul says to the Philippians. That is his basis for commanding them not to be anxious about anything.

I want us to enjoy the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding. So we will look briefly at how our faith in Jesus creates the possibility of peace. What is the peace Christ brings? How might we experience it as we move closer and closer to Christmas? What is the content of that peace we long for at Christmas?

First, what is going on for Paul when he writes about peace? Paul writes friends when he writes the church in Philippi. These are faithful people. He started the community there, and where they were once dependent upon his care for them, Paul now writes to thank them for their care for him. He thanks them for gifts they’ve sent to him. “It was kind of you to share my trouble,” he tells them. These are people who’ve looked after Paul and supplied more than enough for his needs.

When Paul wrote this letter, he wasn’t exactly living in the lap of luxury. A lot of people then and now would not have faulted him for feeling a little anxious. It would be one thing if Paul wrote the Philippians while lounging on a beach somewhere. Peace is easy to talk about when you’re sipping piña colladas! In fact, it’s the context from which Paul writes this letter that makes his words particularly compelling. Paul writes these words from prison, which means he’s tapped into something. Paul talks about peace in the middle of his suffering. Amidst a very difficult circumstance, Paul seizes the opportunity to encourage his brothers and sisters not to let their circumstances crowd out God. At his point of need, Paul continues to lead them, showing that even amidst being thrown into prison, God’s peace prevails. Paul has learned how to be content in all situations. He’s encouraging them to do the same. Paul assures the Philippians of God’s peace, which is the contentment that comes regardless of our circumstances because Jesus is Lord and he is at hand.

We may look at our circumstances in light of Paul’s and be tempted to downplay them. Christmas may be difficult, but we’re not in prison. That’s true. We need to keep our circumstances in perspective. However, simply keeping our circumstances in perspective will still not get us to the peace Paul talks about. Regardless of the severity of our challenges – be they prison or difficult family relationships at Christmas – God’s peace must prevail. Paul essentially names two approaches to dealing with difficult circumstances. One leads to peace. The other does not. We can either approach our circumstances: (1) with anxiety, or (2) with prayer.

First, what does it look like to approach our difficult circumstances with anxiety? You and I may not be in a literal prison, but it is possible to be imprisoned by other things. Anxiety is one of them. It can cause us to avoid hard conversations. It can consume our thought life by causing us to obsess over situations we feel are unmanageable. It can let uncertainty paralyze us because we don’t know what the future will bring.

Anxiety is our attempt to control our future. The chewed nails, the frazzled demeanor, the irritability and impatience are all indications we simply can’t get past our limitations. We cannot control the future. Anxiety is an overreaching on our part, a false hope placed in our ability to manage our uncertainty about the future.

Do you know that you and I pray constantly? Now, before we start to pat ourselves on the back, let me say anxiety is actually a kind of prayer. It’s not a good prayer, but it is a prayer. Every time we yell at a traffic light to turn green when we’re running late, we are praying. It’s not a very good prayer because traffic lights are inanimate and that prayer won’t actually cause that light to change, but those are prayers all the same. The same could be said about the frustration or the fear we may feel going into a family gathering. Again, they aren’t good prayers because they appeal to someone, namely ourselves, who has little to no power over our circumstances. We can’t control other people’s actions or reactions.

Given that anxiety is an attempt to control the future, I want to remind you of what we celebrate in Advent. Advent, we’ve said, is oriented to the past, the present and the future. It celebrates Jesus’ birth 2,000 years ago, his coming into our lives presently and his second coming when he will complete the work he began on the cross and in resurrection. Anxiety disregards that hope. Instead of trusting that Christ’s work on the cross actually defeated all that threatens our lives, anxiety fears there is still work yet to be done. Instead of trusting the Lord is at hand presently, as Paul says, anxiety says the Lord is actually not at hand. Anxiety says the Lord is far away which means it is up to me to manage my circumstances. Finally, instead of placing hope in Christ’s second coming when he will restore all things and, as Paul writes earlier in this letter, “every knee will bow and tongue confess that Jesus is Lord,” anxiety says Christ may not be lord and restore all things so it is up to me to ensure a desirable future for myself and my relationships.

Anxiety during Advent is particularly ironic. Advent hopes for a future in which Christ’s lordship will finally be acknowledged by the entire world. Death will be defeated, and the world will be made new. That is our future. Yet, anxiety has a different future in mind. Anxiety simply tries to make it through. It sees a difficult relationship and tries to avoid it or maybe it gets in an argument or it agonizes over the thought of seeing the other person. Anxiety’s future is very bleak because it doesn’t see the restoration of anything. It’s hope is short-sighted. Anxiety just wants to get past the  difficulty without sustaining too much damage.

God’s presence, the fact that the Lord is at hand, leaves no room for anxiety. Anxiety is antithetical to the Christian life. In this Advent season, when anxiety can creep in because of hectic schedules or because we anticipate being amidst difficult relationships, we need to remember we are celebrating “God with us.” Christ has come and defeated all that threatens us. He is with us now, he will come again and Christ’s coming casts out all fear.

If anxiety is antithetical to the Christian life, then prayer is the antidote to anxiety. Paul says, “In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made known to God.” Prayer is the other approach to our difficult circumstances. True prayer is made to the One who actually has power in the world. So, how does prayer lead to peace amidst difficult circumstances?

Prayer is rooted in Paul’s assurance that the Lord is at hand. The Lord who is at hand is the same Lord who conquered death on the cross and in resurrection. Therefore, prayer is an appeal to the one who has overcome any and all brokenness. That includes everything from a 20-year-old man killing children in an elementary school to the difficulties you may anticipate when you go home for the holidays.

Does that mean if you pray for your relationship with Aunt Sue she isn’t going to corner you with her latest conspiracy theory about a one-world government? Not necessarily. Our peace is not contingent upon everyone else doing the changing. Our peace is found in Christ’s presence and his lordship over any and all circumstances regardless of how we may be affected by them. A “peace that passes all understanding,” then, will prevail whether Aunt Sue corners you or not. In fact, peace may mean you move toward that conversation. It may mean you say things that you would have previously avoided saying because you are no longer afraid of the other person’s reaction. Peace is devoid of fear.

Prayer attunes us to Christ’s presence in every moment. Prayer wakes us up to reality. It opens our eyes to see Jesus even amidst a difficult relationship or circumstance. That is often the answer to our prayers. Again, our hope is not that our circumstances or difficult people in our lives change (though that may happen from time to time). Our hope is that Christ is with us regardless of our circumstances. Our prayers will be answered in so far as we recognize we are able to enjoy a relationship with God in every moment – whether we’re in the most serene of places or in prison.

Now, when Aunt Sue shares her fears about a one-world government we can tell her, “I agree, Aunt Sue. I think there is going to be a one-world government, too, and the leader will be Jesus. He will come and ‘every knee will bow and tongue confess that he is Lord.’ That’s why I’m not scared to be in this conversation with you, and that’s why your conspiracy theories don’t scare me either. I’m not worried about the future because it’s secure in Christ. The Lord is at hand. I have nothing to fear.” Of course, whether you actually say something like that or not is another issue, but that future is the source and content of the peace of God, which passes all understanding.

If Christ born in a manger teaches us anything it’s to look for God in the most obscure places. Who’s to say Jesus can’t turn up in a conversation with Aunt Sue or amidst any other difficult circumstance? What if Christ is using that relationship to cultivate in you the courage to trust him with your future? Christ born in the manger also says God became flesh amidst a tremendous breakdown in relationship. Jesus “came unto his own, but his own did not receive him.” In other words, if you think you have disfunction in your relationships, there is nothing more dysfunctional than the world rejecting Jesus. The world and Jesus are made for one another, and yet the world stuck Jesus with the animals.

Our anxiety will tempt us to simply get through another year, but that is a future without Christ. To feel anxiety is to repeat the same mistake the world made 2,000 years ago when it said to Mary and Joseph, there is no room for you. Our anxiety crowds God out. Simply getting through the holidays is not a good future. Christ coming is a good future. Perhaps experiencing the peace that passes all understanding means following Jesus’ example 2,000 years ago. In other words, maybe we learn peace by moving toward the broken relationships in our lives. Maybe this Christmas we welcome Christ to be Lord over us, our relationships and our future by broaching the hard topic or exposing the elephant in the room. If nothing else, we welcome Christ to be lord over us and all our circumstances by lifting these situations to him by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving.

I pray the peace of Christ will rule our hearts and minds this Advent season. I pray that our peace is rooted in his victory over the grave and it enables us to enter the broken relationships in our lives with courage and humility. I pray our prayers will open our eyes to Christ’s presence among us at all times, and peace would come knowing the Lord is at hand in our lives and relationships.

+In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The compulsion to shape Jesus into our image is not a modern invention. People have been doing it from the very beginning apparently. In Mark 11, he was met by people who welcomed him into Jerusalem by spreading their coats and palm branches on the road to pave the way for him as they sang his praises. Their greetings were fit for a king. In Jesus they clearly saw someone who would liberate them from Roman rule.

In those days, some people hoped Jesus was a revolutionary like Judas Maccabeus, a successful warrior who conquered the Seleucid’s who occupied Jerusalem at the time. After doing so, Judas Maccabeus restored worship in the temple, and Jews still celebrate Hanukkah today, which commemorates his victory that day. Upon defeating the Seleucid’s, Judas Maccabeus also rode into Jerusalem on a path covered in palm branches, but instead of riding on a donkey, he rode on a valiant horse. As people saw Jesus ride into Jerusalem, there’s little doubt that many would recall the history told during Hanukkah, and wonder if now was the time they would again regain Jerusalem and restore worship in the temple.

Of course, we know the end of the story. This same crowd, who made Jesus’ path strait stood in his way and put him to death only a few days later. As those who have inherited a history of molding and shaping Jesus into our image of him, we could stand right at home amidst this crowd. It’s possible he rides by fulfilling our hopes and dreams as well. Never mind that those hopes and dreams may be in direct opposition to my neighbor’s. For now, as we stand here amidst the excitement, we can each have the piece of Jesus that most appeals to us. Never mind, too, that it’s possible neither my neighbor’s nor my conception of Jesus are right. Because in a few days, when Jesus turns out to be nothing like either of our conceptions of him, we will be unified in our desire to get rid of him.

Knowing the end of the story, it’s an incredibly compelling idea to cut the story short. However, we don’t get Mark 11 without Mark 15. We don’t get Palm Sunday without Good Friday. In other words, we don’t get adulation without crucifixion.

But that’s precisely what I want. As I stand amidst the crowd, the Jesus I see clearly has broad appeal, which is comforting because sometimes it seems believing in Jesus requires that I’m socially awkward. Sometimes I worry that following Jesus means I have to wear socks with sandals or get some greek word tattooed on my forearm! In fact, it’s looks like it might be quite the contrary. Believing in Jesus may just grant us broader appeal too. When I look around at all the people who are clearly excited about Jesus in this crowd, I hope that he somehow grants me a kind of leverage among the world around me. Politicians, I know, struggle with this. Using Jesus to appeal to certain contingencies definitely plays to your advantage in an election year or when your trying to push certain policies through.

For me, without meaning to, I often hope by believing in Jesus I gain a sharper intellect, keener insight into the ways of the world, or greater creativity. Now, it’s not that Jesus prevents those things from happening, but sometimes I’m inclined to follow Jesus because I hope by doing so we might get the inside scoop on how to be better song writers, argue a better court case, paint a better picture, or be a better teacher. I want Jesus to make me stronger, smarter, better looking and more creative thereby convincing everyone around me that following Jesus is a brilliant idea.

Amidst a world that can be very intellectually hostile to Jesus and his followers, it’s easy for me, in this way, to get caught up in the frenzy of the crowd in Mark 11 and forget the crucifixion. I want to say, “Look, it doesn’t have to be that divisive. Jesus can be about all the things we all care about. You like Jesus, the teacher? Great. You like Jesus, the humanitarian. You’re in. You want to stand up against oppression with Jesus. Jump on board.” Yet, while Jesus may exhibit each of those characteristics from time to time, if we hold them up to the neglect of the fact that he is the crucified lord, we misrepresent him.

Following Jesus always leads to the cross. When Christ rides into Jerusalem he goes there to die. When we follow him, the same is true for us. I’m reminded of Dr. Francis Collins. Dr. Collins was the head of the Human Genome Project, which mapped the entire human genome. In 2009, President Obama picked him as director of the National Institute of Health. Dr. Collins also happens to be a very committed Christian, which has garnered a lot of attention in the media, because it puts him in the minority among scientists in general and among an even smaller minority within his specific field.

I’ve listened to interviews with Dr. Collins, and when I read his resume, my initial thought is, “This guy has game. What a compelling case for believing in and following Jesus. Maybe having a guy like Dr. Collins in such a position of influence will compel others to follow Jesus.”  However, when Dr. Collins is interviewed, his interviewers aren’t interested in how to follow Jesus. No, they wonder how a guy, who is clearly brilliant, can also be a Jesus follower. In an interview with Dr. Collins, the comedian and talk show host, Bill Maher, went so far as to imply that Dr. Collins was compromising his intellectual integrity by believing in Jesus. In other words, following Jesus and scientific achievement seem to be incompatible. So, Dr. Collins actually spends much of his time explaining how, in fact, they aren’t incompatible. So, while the world clearly respects Dr. Collins’ work, it assumes he’s accomplished what he’s accomplished despite his belief in Jesus not because of it.

Of course, it isn’t just in the world of science that this is the case. Caroline has told me about the challenge of being a Christian in the theater. There it’s assumed that being a Christian limits your ability as an actor. In general, any kind of religious belief is seen as a restriction on your creativity and expression. I suspect that perception is true among other art forms as well. Again, if it turns out that a Christian is also a talented actor or artist, the perception seems to be that they’ve managed that despite their belief in Jesus rather than because of it. Perhaps they figured out a way to keep their belief in Jesus from getting in the way of their creative process.

Suffice it to say, despite my hope for the crowd’s zeal in Mark 11 to be an indicator of Jesus’ broader appeal, it seems our accomplishments don’t do much to convince the world that following Jesus is a good idea. Instead, the greater marvel in the world’s eyes is how people who accomplish great things could also profess faith in Jesus. It’s paradoxical in the world’s eyes.

I’m reminded of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s words, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die.” In other words, Jesus doesn’t call us to popularity or influence. He calls us to follow him to the cross. So, what does it mean to die? Does it mean that Dr. Collins’ accomplishments are all for naught? Should he give up his pursuit of being an excellent scientist? Does it mean Caroline should give up honing her skill as an actress? Does following Christ mean forgoing a career in the arts? Absolutely not. Following Christ to the cross does not mean settling for mediocrity. “Faith” is not code language for “blissful ignorance.” Following Jesus does not mean we suddenly become blind to the realities of the world around us. No. We need to strive to become excellent historians, lawyers, engineers, writers, doctors, teachers, activists, artists and so on. I love working with Bryan, the carpenter I work with 20 hours a week. I love working with him, in part, because I’m learning from a true artist. Bryan is not a Christian. I mention that only to say an artist is an artist whether they’re Christian or not. Bryan is teaching me how to care for tools and the wood we use. He honors history by the way we restore buildings. His design exhibits incredible creativity. All of these things make him a wonderful teacher and example to me. I’m learning excellence in carpentry, and I’m convinced it’s akin to godliness. So, following Jesus doesn’t mean I suddenly lose interest in those skills or think they suddenly don’t matter. All of them are teaching me how to be a better disciple. I am learning how to care for the gifts God gives me and glorify him in the new ways I’m now able to work and build. I think the same is true for Caroline, Dr. Collins as well as the rest of us.

So what does it mean to die? As we stand amidst the crowd excited by the Jesus they see, how do we remember that Jesus is on his way to the cross and not crusading for our cause? Perhaps it means stepping away from the crowd, admitting where you stand with Christ and enduring the confusion of the world around you who wonders how you can be a scientist or actress and still follow Jesus. Be glad if it is only confusion. One day, it may be ridicule or worse. For many of our brothers and sisters throughout history and the world that is the case. Confusion would be considered a blessing in those contexts. Many of them endure imprisonment and sometimes death. Jesus’ humble ride on a donkey into Jerusalem to be crucified shows us that despite being excellent in our craft, following Jesus will not always play to our advantage. In fact, it could mean our death – death to our pride, certain career opportunities and, perhaps, our literal death.

This text usually shows up in the Spring on Palm Sunday. So why this story now in the church year? Next week, we begin Advent, when we prepare to celebrate Christ’s birth and his coming again. Jesus is making his way into the world, and we need to prepare the way for his arrival.

Now, Jesus is very popular this time of year. If we look around it can look like another crowd, excited about Jesus, has gathered to welcome him into town. Songs about Jesus will play from now through December in shopping malls and on the radio all in the name of celebrating Christmas. And while I love rich food, wassail punch, and Santa Claus as much as the next person, it takes some serious work to step away from the frenzy of that crowd and remember what we’re actually celebrating. This time of year it takes tremendous work to keep my life from revolving around making it to the next family gathering to open more presents. I want my life to revolve around Jesus. That’s why I love worship. It pulls me away from the momentum of an enthusiastic crowd and causes my life to revolve around Christ even if only for a moment.  I need that because, without it, I will invent any number of stories about who Jesus is. I will quickly forget that before Jesus is a revolutionary, a teacher, or an activist, he is God, who humbled himself, took on flesh and died for the love of us. Will we receive him as he gives himself to us, or will we settle for a version we think will give us broader appeal in the world?

We follow Christ not because of how well he fits into our conception of who he is. We follow Jesus because he is lord, and everything in our lives we do not to gain the acceptance of those around us or convince others that following Jesus is a good idea, but to glorify him and thank him for the gift of his life he’s given us.

+In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.