The Call

January 25^th, 2015         “The Call”      Rev. Heather Jepsen

Mark 1:14-20

          This morning we find ourselves in the gospel of Mark, which is the featured gospel for this lectionary year.  John the Baptist has been arrested, and Jesus sees that as a sign to begin his ministry.  Of course it is a foreboding sign, and the writer of Mark’s gospel wants us to see that.  Jesus’ road will not be an easy one.  For his start, Jesus heads into Galilee, which is a bit of a backwater town, a city on the margins.  Much like our own home of Warrensburg, Galilee was not too big or too small, just a regular everyday place. 

          The message that Jesus proclaims to get the ball rolling is “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near!”  He then calls folks to “Repent, and believe in the good news.”  We often think of repent as a feeling of regret, especially when we talk about repenting of our sins.  To us, repent means to feel sorry or bad for what we have done. 

But, when Jesus says repent he is using the word in a different context.  He is not talking about regret; instead he is talking about a major change.  Jesus is telling people that they need to turn, to change direction, to get a new orientation in life.  This use of repent is not about what we have done in the past, rather it is about what Jesus is doing in the future.  This is the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, and his first word to the world is look out, get ready, something new is on the way. 

You see, if the kingdom of God had come near, then people need to change direction to be a part of it.  That’s why Jesus immediately begins the work of changing people’s lives.  He walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees two brothers, Simon and Andrew casting nets into the water.   Jesus calls out to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” 

Unfortunately we have gotten used to this phrase, so it has lost a lot of the power it once had.  Our Christian culture has adopted the title “fishers of men” and we use it often to discuss the work of evangelism.  But one has to admit that the sentence, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” sounds like nonsense at first listen.  Fish for people, what is that supposed to mean?  I have to admit that if someone came up to me on the street and said that, I would give them a confused look and slowly back away.

          What is so strange about this passage is that Jesus is so charismatic, so incredible, and has such a persona about him that this strange sentence is literally all he has to say.  I sometimes wonder if Jesus didn’t have power over human hearts, in the same way that he had power over the wind and waves of creation.  After he speaks, Andrew and Simon immediately leave their nets and walk after him.  The strangeness continues as they happen upon the brothers James and John as they are mending nets with their father Zebedee.  When Jesus calls them, the brothers leave the nets, and their father, and follow him.

          What is so remarkable about this story, is that these men have nothing to go on.  They have nothing to recommend Jesus to them as someone worthy of following, let alone worthy of giving up one’s whole life for.  We have to remember that this is their very first encounter with Jesus.  They have never met Jesus before, they have never heard him preach, and they have never seen a miracle.  Jesus is just beginning his ministry, and so the four bothers have never even heard someone else talking about an experience of Jesus.  They have no idea at all who this guy is.  And all he has to do is walk up to them, make some cryptic remark about fish, and they drop everything and follow him.  When we study it afresh we find that this really is a shocking and amazing story.

          When we read the story carefully, we can see that these men were not just looking for something to follow; they already had all they needed in life.  Andrew and Simon were well off enough to afford their own boat, nets, and fishing supplies.  They were what we would call small business owners now.  And James and John are equally successful in the family business, and sure to take over the fishing trade when their father retired.  These men are leaving behind stable and secure lives.  These men are leaving behind their homes and jobs.  Perhaps most painful, these men are leaving behind family and all the expectations that go with that.  I can just imagine the look on Zebedee’s face as his boys leave him alone on the beach and turn to walk away, following after some stranger.

          Surprisingly, challengingly, this is the true nature of the call that Jesus gives to us.  Jesus is bringing the kingdom of God with him.  He does not just tell us to repent and feel sorry for ourselves and regret our past actions.  No, Jesus tells us to repent by changing direction.  Jesus calls us to do something drastic in our life for the Lord.  If you are really going to repent and follow Christ, then your life is going to change, it has to. 

          Now for many of us, the call from Christ, does not ask us to leave behind our homes and jobs.  But we know some people who have done these things in Jesus’ name.  And we certainly know the ways we do or do not represent Christ in our places of employment, and in our daily lives.  In addition, many of us have not had to literally leave our family for the Lord.  But, we know some people who have.  And all of us have to admit that when we answer Christ’s call, it does change our family relationships.

          What this scripture challengingly asks us to see, is that Christ’s call is radical, it’s powerful.  Christ’s call is disruptive; it messes up our lives, our jobs, and our families.  Christ’s call goes against the general good sense order of things.  The decision these brothers made, to walk away from everything, would not have been a popular one.

This scripture also teaches us that Christ’s call is intrusive.  The call of Christ to drop everything, to repent and turn around, comes into our lives when we are not looking for it.  It comes into our lives when we don’t want it.  Christ intrudes upon our happy hum drum, and demands of us to make big changes in his name.  The kingdom of heaven has come near, and it is going to take big changes if we are going to participate. 

          In this midst of this call discussion it is important to remind ourselves that following God, choosing to answer the call of Christ, is not a one-time event.  Just like we talk about the kingdom of God as being here now, and also in the time to come; present and not yet.  So too, the life of discipleship is an already and not yet event.  We are all disciples, and we are all growing into disciples.  It is a lifetime’s journey, as much as it is a one-time commitment to follow.

In the church we continue to be in the season of Epiphany.  This is a season of realization and revelation, a season of seeing and knowing who God is in a fresh light.  This is a great time for self-examination, and so today I want to ask you to consider your own call from the Lord.  All of us have heard something, all of us have felt something, or we wouldn’t be here.  There must be something that moves all of us to get out of bed on a Sunday morning, on your day off, and to go about the business of getting ready for church.  So what is it?  What have you heard?

Today is a good day to ask how Christ has called you in your life?  Where has Christ called you to be or what has he called you to do?  How has your life changed because of the call?  How is God continuing to call you into the future?  What things do you need to leave behind, and what new things do you need to embrace?  Let us take a moment of silence and consider these things in prayer . . .

 

Gracious Lord, we thank you that you have come and sought us out.  You have called us out of our comfort zones, and you have challenged us to join in the kingdom of God.  Grant us the courage to drop everything we are holding on to, and to move forward in faith.  Grant us the vision to see where you are leading us.  May we have the faith to answer your call.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen. 

 

All Lives Matter

January 19^th, 2015          “All Lives Matter”         Rev. Heather Jepsen

For the Martin Luther King Jr Praise and Worship Service

Psalm 139:1-4, 13-14
¹ O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
² You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
   you discern my thoughts from far away.
³ You search out my path and my lying down,
   and are acquainted with all my ways.
¹³ For it was you who formed my inward parts;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
   Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.

Matthew 22:34-39

A lawyer asked Jesus a question to test him. ³⁶‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ ³⁷ Jesus said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” ³⁸This is the greatest and first commandment. ³⁹And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself."⁴⁰

I am sure that there are quite a few people here today who are wondering who I am and why I am the one listed tonight as the featured speaker.  I am actually wondering that myself a bit as I stand here.  So let me introduce myself.  I am the Rev. Heather Jepsen of the Presbyterian Church here in Warrensburg.  I have been in ministry for almost 10 years and I have been serving in this town for about 3 of those years.  I am a pastor, a preacher, a wife, and a mother of two small children.  And I know that I probably don’t look like what you imagine when you think of a pastor; I get that a lot. 

          I can’t come to this place tonight without telling you a bit about my week last week.  See, I am a preacher, and I love to preach.  I love to carry on about God’s justice, and about how sinful and broken the world we live in is.  I love to point out to folks that are a little too comfortable, that the world is not what it should be and that they are partly responsible.  I love to go on and on about the big problems in our world; economic injustice, racial disparity, the march of war and violence, and the way those with the deepest pockets are the only ones with any real power in our country.  I love to talk about the way that Jesus Christ calls us to rise up, and the way that Jesus Christ sets an example for us of what it means to speak out for what is right.  As I was thinking about this service, I was thinking about what an awesome opportunity this was and what an awesome message I was going to preach to you in this hall tonight.

          I was ready to go, but then I got a phone call.  You see, I am not just a preacher, what I really am, is a pastor.  And on Monday I got one of those jarring calls that pastors so often get.  A young person in my church, someone I was friends with, had had a stroke.  This fellow was only 45 years old and now he was in the ICU with a traumatic brain injury.  So I set aside all my grand sermon plans and ideas, and I drove into the city to be at his bedside.

          That night I met his friends and I met his family.  I sat with his mother as the doctors told us how bad things really were.  And while we were in those awful moments, his mother reached out her hand to me.  It was almost an unconscious thing.  We were standing together in the dark of his room and I looked down and noticed she was reaching out.  Clearly she needed something to hold on to.  She didn’t know me five minutes ago, and now here we were holding hands.  We did a lot of praying that night, we made some very difficult decisions, and in a few short hours, my friend was gone.

          I came back to the office the next morning and started thinking again about Martin Luther King Jr and this sermon I was going to preach.  As I was perusing photos and information on the internet I started noticing how often people were holding hands, how often people were holding on to each other.  Everyone was lining up and holding hands in Selma, holding hands at rallies, holding hands in marches and in demonstrations.  Like my experience the night before, people were holding on to each other in the darkness.  People were giving each other strength in the difficult moments.  When we need courage, we hold hands, because we are all connected.

          In my life as a preacher and a sometimes prophet, there are days when all I can see are the big problems in our world.  I am passionately focused on inequality and injustice.  I am focused on the broken system.  And then I have moments like I had last week, when I am jarred out of my everyday routine, when someone I know and love dies.  In those personal moments I find myself suddenly faced with the reality of the fragility of life.  I am sure you have had those days as well.  Like a slap in the face we wake up and realize how precious every moment we spend together is.

          This past year, those personal moments of loss for families and friends became public moments of awareness and grief.  When Michael Brown was shot and left dying in the street, as a nation we were shocked into awareness.  We were slapped in the face and we woke up to the reality of racism in our nation.  As a white person, that can be an easy problem for me to ignore.  But not this year.  This year there were many people of many colors wondering how something like that could happen.   How could that life not matter?  Many of us were angry and some of us were ashamed.  I remember that I had just gotten off a plane from Africa, that day and I wondered why I was coming home to a country like this.  This wasn’t the place where I wanted to live. 

          You see, I want to live in a place where every life matters.  I picked these Scripture readings to share tonight because they inform my opinion.  The Psalmist reminds us that all people are fearfully and wonderfully made.  All people are knit together with care by our creator.  All people are known intimately by our God.  Blacks and whites, Christians and Muslims, women and men; all people on this earth from all walks of life are blessed carefully crafted creations of our loving God.  The Psalmist tells us that all lives matter.  

Jesus too reminds us that all lives matter, not just to God but they should matter to each of us.  Not just my own life matters to me, but your life should matter to me.  What makes you who you are, what brought you to this place tonight, what kind of home you will go to when this event is over; all of those things should matter to me.  I am called to care about you.  Just as I am called to care about Michael Brown, and Eric Garner, and the folks who died at Charlie Hebdo, and the hundreds who are dying in Nigeria, and the folks who are dying from Ebola, and my friend Terrence who died last week.  I care about all these people, they matter to me.  They have to matter to me, if I am going to love my neighbor as myself.

          Of course what I am talking about, about caring for each other, is the beloved community that Martin Luther King Jr called us to see and to know and to be a part of.  That was the way that he called us to live, the way that he challenged us to live.  Dr. King said that Jesus Christ was an extremist for love.  I really like that.  I wish I was an extremist for love.  I wish we all were.  I believe that all of us should cry out at the injustice of the world, just as we cry out at the death of those whom we know and love.  Because everybody is somebody’s loved one; because every life matters.

          The world we live in can often seem a dark and dismal place.  From violence in France and Nigeria, violence in Iraq and Afghanistan, to violence on our streets here at home, the message of peace and hope can often seem such a quiet insignificant thing.  It’s been half a century since the days of Dr. King and at times it feels like we are no better at the whole beloved community thing.  At times it feels like this small planet of ours is nothing but a place of hardship and pain.  Sometimes we are tempted to lose hope, and to wonder if all this talk really makes any difference in the end.

           Thank God we have these moments when we gather together and remind ourselves who we are and who we are called to be.  It is our faith that moves us forward in hope.  It is our faith that makes us long for justice.  And it is our faith that causes us to reach out our hands to each other in the darkness of an ICU room.  Just as it was faith that called folks to reach out hands to each other in the darkness of the civil rights struggle.

          In these continued days of unrest we are reminded that the world is not the way it should be.  And I think that for a lot of us it is a good and necessary reminder.  We need to talk about the injustice in our world, and we need to ask the hard questions.   We need to ask why so many of our children don’t have enough food to eat.  We need to ask why we are shooting each other all the time every day in neighborhoods and in schools.  We need to ask why we are living in fear of religious extremists.  We need to ask why we think it’s OK for the rich to get big tax breaks while we cut food stamps and Medicaid programs for the poor.  We need to ask why our nation spends more than half its resources funding violence and war.  We need to ask why we don’t care about the destruction of the planet we live on.  We need to ask why we don’t talk about what the world is really like.  We need to ask why we can’t stand together in the name of love and peace, why we aren’t be the people Dr. King believed we could be, why we aren’t the beloved community.  We need to ask why we aren’t the people our God created us to be, the people our God calls us to be, people who love their neighbors as themselves.

          Tonight, we are here to remind ourselves that it is within our power to be the beloved community.  It is within our power to be the people our God calls us to be.  The beloved community is here tonight as we reach out our hands in the darkness of this space, in the darkness of these days, to hold on to one another.  We can be that community of hope and peace and love.  We can be that community, here in Warrensburg.  A community where all lives matter.  Amen.

                   

Beloved, Blessed, Chaos

January 11^th, 2015           “Beloved, Blessed, Chaos”        Rev. Heather Jepsen

Mark 1:4-11 with Psalm 29

          The first part of the liturgical year always seems to fly by.  Every year the church re-enacts the life story of Jesus, and we seem to do most of it in the Spring.  Just a few weeks ago Jesus was born and in just a few short weeks he will be turning his face to Jerusalem and the death that awaits him there.  Today is one of those highlights along the road, because today we celebrate the baptism of Jesus.

          Jesus’ baptism is always a bit of a touchy subject.  All of the synoptic gospels mention the event, so it is something many scholars believe was a true historical occurrence in the life of our Lord.  The problem with the baptism of Jesus is a theological one.  If Jesus is from God, of God, then why would he submit to a baptism for forgiveness of sins?  Why would the Son of God need forgiveness?  And if Jesus is greater than John, then why does John baptize Jesus and not the other way around?  The whole thing is a bit of a chaotic mess.  We have lots of wonderings and musings about these questions but we don’t really have any clear answers. 

          Whenever we imagine this scene it is one of tranquility and peace.  If you google images of Jesus’ baptism, you will find a whole slew of peaceful pictures.  There he is bowing before John the Baptist, now he is rising up out of the waters in joy, see the dove as it gently descends, a vision of hope and peace.  Well, isn’t that lovely?!?

          Too bad life doesn’t work that way.  Have you ever seen a dove descend, or any bird for that matter, come down from the sky?  Sure in slow motion it can look really cool, but often it just looks like a bird crashing.  I am thinking of when we lived near San Francisco and the masses of the dove’s closest cousin, pigeons, we would see fluttering about there.  Those birds would come in for a landing and it was a chaotic mess of feathers and squawks.  And watch out if you are standing too close, it hurts when a bird hits you on the head!!

          Plus, have you ever seen someone be baptized by dunking?  Sure, sometimes it’s all smooth and beautiful but often the human body reacts negatively to being shoved under water.  A quick search of You Tube will reveal loads of funny baptism videos as people come flying out of the water gasping and sputtering for breath.  Even in the best moments, you can see the human body tense as the person comes up chest heaving.

          We like to imagine this perfect baptism for Jesus, but what if it was more normal, what if it was more like our experience?  If Jesus was fully human, his body too would be crying out for air as he was dunked in the river.  He too, would be taking big open mouth breaths as he regained his composure.  Then the sky rips open!  Tell me that’s not chaotic and scary.  Mark says the heavens were torn apart.  A bird falls out of the sky and lands on Jesus’ head.  What if it was a 200mph peregrine falcon descent rather than a slow motion dove?  Then a loud voice speaks from out of the sky.  I imagine some folks would be running and screaming by this point, it’s not like people would immediately understand what was going on.  What if instead of the picture perfect scene we imagine, things were more chaotic, more real?  I like to imagine Jesus’ baptism as beloved, blessed, chaos.

          I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch.  The whole point of the baptism of Jesus is that Jesus joins the ranks of sinners like us.  Jesus joins the mess and chaos that is human life.  That is why we find him there that morning, standing in the waters of the Jordan, waiting in line with everyone else.  Jesus is the fullest expression of God’s desire to join us, and we are nothing if not messy and chaotic.

          Our Psalm too, reminds us that while God is in control, what God is in control of is chaos.  The voice of the Lord is over the mighty waters and the thunders of glory.  Mighty thundering waters?  That’s chaos.  The voice of the Lord breaks down trees and makes cities jump like wild animals.  That’s chaos.  The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness and sets it aflame.  That’s chaos.  The voice of the Lord causes a tornado that strips the forest bare.  That’s chaos.  Our Psalm reminds us that things with God are often out of control, in control.  The world is a place of chaotic, violent natural phenomenon and yet God is in control.  God is in control of our beloved, blessed, chaos. 

          So too, when Jesus joins with the chaos that is humanity, when he lines up to be baptized with us, why wouldn’t it be the wet and wild mess all of our baptisms were?  There is a reason babies cry.  Whether we are splashed or dunked, as we arise with water pouring off our heads, we know we have been changed in a moment of chaos. 

          Once Jesus is united with humanity, his ministry begins.  His ministry grows out of chaos and will be marked by chaos throughout.  He is sent straight into the wilderness to be tempted, he will face ridicule throughout his short lifetime, and nothing is more chaotic then a man physically torn on a cross crying out “My God, why have you forsaken me?”  Ours is a God of chaos, chaos in the natural order, and chaos in the life of Jesus Christ, Emmanuel, God with us.  Beloved, blessed, chaos.

          Of course, we will remember Jesus’ sacrificial death as we gather around the table today.  As we share the elements of bread and juice, we remember the chaos of those last days.  We remember that Jesus was betrayed by his friends, abandoned by his disciples, and kneeled in a garden praying “Lord, let this cup pass from me.”  We remember that three days later his friends found an empty tomb and chaotically ran every which way, some believing and some full of doubt.  At this table we also look forward to the beloved chaos that is yet to come.  For when all people gather, from all times and places, to sit together at one table, what can it be but beloved, blessed, chaos?

          We remember too, that from his baptism, Jesus goes out to serve.  Today we will ordain and install those that have committed to serving our church this coming year.  Our new elders and deacons receive their call to serve as an outgrowth out of their baptism.  And like Jesus, it is a call to serve in a world of chaos.  I’ve spent too much time in the church to tell you that it is anything else.  What we do here each and every Sunday, and especially in the days of the week leading up to this moment, could certainly be described as beloved, blessed, chaos.

          So, as we celebrate the baptism of our Lord today, I encourage us to let go of those images of perfect perfection.  Instead, let us imagine the event for what it is.  Our world has always been chaos, and our God has always longed to be united to us and to our chaos.  Jesus just wants to be part of our mess.  That’s what Emmanuel is all about, the grace of God with us; in beloved, blessed, chaos.  Amen. 

         

New Year of Light

January 4^th, 2015        “New Year of Light”      Rev. Heather Jepsen

Isaiah 60:1-6 with Matthew 2:1-12

          We are entering what for many of us can be a season of darkness and despair.  The weather is cold, the skies are gray, the days are short, and the joy and warmth of Christmas has once again passed us by.  I always consider it a gift that in the church, this is the season of light.  It is as if the early church Fathers knew that we would be in need this time of year, in need of a reminder of the light and hope of our faith.

          Today we are celebrating Epiphany in the church, and as you may know, an epiphany is a sudden realization or dawning of awareness.  An epiphany is a moment when you suddenly understand something in a new, clearer way.  This is a moment of understanding in the life of the church, a moment when we experience a dawn of realization.

          The traditional text for this Sunday is of course the story of the Magi in Matthew’s gospel.  Travelers from the East have had a vision of a child, they have followed a star, and they have come to pay the child Jesus homage.  They bring their gifts and worship the newborn babe.  It is an Epiphany for Matthew as the savior he is so carefully crafting a story about is recognized by religious leaders from another far away culture.  For Matthew, the light of Christ is dawning on the world.

          I love that story, but this week I was more drawn to the text of Isaiah.  There was something there that spoke to me in a new and different way, something there that touched on my experience as an American beginning this New Year 2015.

          This passage comes from what scholars refer to as the writings of third Isaiah.  The last portion of the long prophetic work, this Isaiah is writing to the people after they have returned from exile in Babylon.  The people are now back home in the land of Judah, and they should be celebrating.  So why this need to offer yet again a word of hope?  Well, because the people had returned home to a mess.

          The strongest and best people were the ones the Babylonians had taken into captivity.  For years the best teachers, best artisans, best governors, best theologians, and best craftsman have all been gone.  In their absence the city of Judah has fallen into ruin.  As the captives return home, they find their homeland has been ravaged and destroyed.  Fields are full of weeds, buildings are crumbling, government is corrupt, and people have turned away from religion.  Sound familiar?  For the people of Israel, darkness has covered the earth.

          When I examine the world around us, I too often feel like darkness has covered the earth.  From a crumbling lack of faith to an increased distrust in authority, from corruption in every level of government to increased violence in the streets of the city, from the ever widening gap between rich and poor to the daily march of injustice across the land, many mornings I wake up to a vision where darkness covers the earth and thick darkness the peoples.  Like the exiles returning to Judah, I look around me and am often disappointed by my world.

          So too, like the people of Judah, I long to hear these words of hope from Isaiah.  “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. . . You shall see and be radiant, and your heart shall thrill and rejoice.”  Even in the midst of despair, even when thick darkness covers the earth, the glory of the Lord has risen, the light of God is among us.

          Sometimes, it is when we are in our deepest darkness, that we begin to see the light around us.  I read a great quote this week from Jack Kornfield, who is a famous American Buddhist, and he says “It is the basic principle of spiritual life that we learn the deepest things in unknown territory.  Often it is when we feel most confused inwardly and are in the midst of our greatest difficulties that something new will open.  We awaken most easily to the mystery of life through our weakest side.  The areas of our greatest strength, where we are the most competent and clearest, tend to keep us away from the mystery.” 

          Personally, I know that I have often experienced my most profound spiritual growth in the midst of my most painful and confusing times of my life.  Perhaps the same has been true for you.  As we enter this New Year, many of us find ourselves in a reflective space.  We think about the joys and sorrows of the year past and we look forward to change and hope for the future.  Our scripture readings for this morning call us to follow the light of Christ and to look forward in hope.

          One of the wonderful things about the message from Isaiah is that the light of God, the hope we need, is already among us.  Isaiah writes “Lift up your eyes and look around”, calling the people of Judah to notice the power of God already in their midst.  God is already there, the light already shines, and yet the people are so downcast and distracted that they miss the hope they so dearly need.

          So too, we have a tendency to get distracted and to lose sight of the presence of God already among us.  We too, are called to lift up our eyes and look around.  Already the light and love of God, already the hope of grace and salvation, is present in our midst.  It is our job to open our eyes and see it.  It is our job to have that epiphany, that sudden realization of the presence and blessing of God in our midst.

          The work of faith is just that, work.  Often I think we expect things to be different right away, we expect big change.  Just like with our New Year’s resolutions, we expect to get healthy and get happy all within the next week or two.  We know it doesn’t work that way, and yet every year we do the same thing.  Every year we make big plans for change and then we lose our motivation early on.  Physical health is a process that takes time, so too is our journey to spiritual health and light.

          We often forget one of the most wonderful things about the story of the Magi in Matthew, and that is that it took those guys at least two years to get to Jesus.  They came when Jesus was in a home, settled down, probably close to two or even three years old.  We love to put them in our nativity sets, to imagine them bustling in on the very night the shepherds came, but even the text reminds us that it didn’t happen like that.  No, they journeyed for some time. 

          In fact, I like to imagine that they wandered a bit.  They followed the stars, a pin prick of light in the night sky, and they journeyed along not quite knowing what they were looking for, but knowing that they were called to seek it.  They were guided by dreams and spots of light, by visions and longings and hunches, and they didn’t even go back the way they had come.  They were nomads, they were wanderers, and they were people of faith.

          Our own faith lives are a reflection this journey.  Following something we can’t quite see; like a star that may be clear in the sky one night and then covered by clouds for weeks, or a hunch that nudges us in our gut but we aren’t quite sure why or what it means.  We travel and we follow, we think and we pray, we look up at the sky and we dream and eventually we find what we are looking for, the Christ child.  But even after that the road is convoluted, and we wander on a different way than we had planned or imagined.  The life and journey of faith is nebulous, but we are always guided by light and hope, even when thick darkness may cover the land.

          In this season of Epiphany, of ahas and awakening, of light and shadow, I hope that you too see a pin prick of starlight somewhere out there.  I hope that you too feel a little lift of hope in what can seem like endless days of darkness.  Perhaps a good New Year’s resolution for all of us is to listen to the words of Isaiah “Lift up your eyes and look around . . . arise, shine for your light has come.”  May this be a blessed New Year of light as we strive to look for hope and light in our world.  Amen.