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May 2013 Newsletter

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday.

Today is the fourth Sunday after Easter, and this Sunday is always Good Shepherd Sunday.

But maybe that’s not where our hearts and minds, are, right now.

Instead, we might still be down in Boston.

And perhaps we’ve been in Boston, all week.

And even though we are up here, in New Hampshire, Boston’s not that far, from us.

Some of us have lived in the metro-Boston area.

Some of us have family and friends who were locked into their houses, on Friday.

Some of us have family and friends who ran the marathon on Monday, or were there, as spectators.

Some of us have walked down Boylston Street, and stood where those bombs went off.

I’ve been to Boston more times than I can count, and to the Boston Marathon many times.

I grew up in Maine, and, like in Massachusetts, Patriot’s Day is a holiday in Maine.

There’d be no school, and my dad would take my sister and I, and our friends, into Boston.

We’d go to Hopkinton, first, for the start of the marathon.

And we’d watch an endless wave of runners at the start.

Then we’d drive into the city, and go to the finish line.

And we’d be right there, in Copley Square, at the finish line.

We’d always get there in time to watch Rick and Dick Hoyt cross the finish line.

And then we’d head over to Chinatown for dinner.

We’d stay past dark, and go up into the Prudential Center, and see the city all lit up.

It was always such a great day.

And this past Monday morning started out as a great day for all those runners, and for the city of Boston.

But then…

…and so it’s been a rough week.

It’s been a sad week.

It’s been a terrible week.

And maybe it even feels kind of hopeless.

Maybe it feels like there isn’t much we can do, to prevent the next time that something awful like this happens.

And yet…

…there were some incredibly inspiring moments, this past week.

The folks who ran toward the bomb blast, to help others.

The first responders, who saved so many lives.

The skill of the staff, at what are some of the finest hospitals in the world.

The marathoners who kept running after they crossed the finish line, and ran a couple more miles to donate blood.

The New York Yankees singing “Sweet Caroline.”

Thoughtful and inspiring words from Mr. Rogers, as taught to him, by his mother.

The Lutheran comfort dogs.

The dedication and hard work of Law Enforcement.

The outpouring of prayers, and words of encouragement and hope, on social media.

And the lack of bigotry and hatred.

(There was some, a Muslim woman was attacked in Boston, during the week, but that wasn’t how most people reacted.)

Most people reacted with love, and compassion, and concern for neighbors.

And we put on our race shirts, on Tuesday, and our Boston shirts on Friday.

And we lifted our neighbors in prayer.

And we were in Boston, all week.

In the city, itself, and in the surrounding metro area.

From up here, in New Hampshire, and all across the country, our hearts and minds were in Boston, this week.

We were in Boston, all week, this week.

Except for the times when we were elsewhere.

Maybe we were in Texas, as well, this week, saddened by a devastating explosion at that fertilizer factory.

Maybe we were in Washington, too, this week, as letters tainted with Ricin, were sent to our President, and to some legislators.

Or maybe we were at a friend’s house, at some point, this week, bringing comfort, or care, in a time of need.

Or maybe we were gathered with relatives, mourning a loss, or dealing with a crisis.

Maybe we were in Boston, all week, this week.

Or maybe we were elsewhere, for a while, too.

And then, as if it hadn’t already been a terrible week, there was a tragic accident, in downtown Laconia, on Friday afternoon.

(In case you may not’ve heard, on Friday afternoon, a woman lost control of her car, and ran into two girls from the middle school.

One girl died, and the other girl is in serious condition.)

Our prayers of healing, go out to Alyssa.

And our condolences go out to Lily’s family.

And we hold both of those girl’s families in our hearts.

I was at the candlelight vigil, for the girls, last night.

And Boston felt pretty far away, at least for a while, anyway, last night.

At the beginning of the sermon, I mentioned that today is Good Shepherd Sunday.

And today, on this Good Shepherd Sunday, we look to our Lord Jesus, who shepherds us.

And given the week we’ve had, we are here, in need of shepherding.

And our Lord Jesus promises to shepherd us through, in times of need.

To quote from Psalm 23:

“The Lord is my shepherd… …though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for you are with me.”

Or to quote from the Revelation reading:

“…for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Our Lord Jesus is our Good Shepherd.

And in spite of the fear, and the sadness, and the tragedy of this past week, there is hope.

And because of Jesus our Good Shepherd, we have good news to share.

We have a God who loves us.

We have a God who shepherds us.

We have a God who grieves with us.

We have a God who reaches out to us, from the cross, and from the empty tomb.

In the face of the tragedy and sorrow of this past week, we are here, today,to proclaim that we have a God who raises us up from this, and from everything, and anything.

In this Easter Season of our Lord’s resurrection, we know that because he lives, we shall live, also.

And just as God raised Jesus from the dead, so it is that Jesus raises us to new life, and brings resurrection, even out of terrible events, like those we have witnessed this week.

The Lord is my shepherd.

The Lord is our shepherd.

And our Risen Lord, and Shepherd, is also our savior.

Sadly, tragedy, and death, and guns, and bombs, and sadness, and sorrow, will continue to happen in our world.

 But our Risen Lord will continue to shepherd us through all of it, and see us past it.

Our Risen Lord will continue to point us to the needs of our neighbors.

And our Risen Lord will continue to raise us to new life, now, and in the life of the world to come.

Amen.

 Happy Easter, on this joyous morning!

 Easter is all about the proclamation of resurrection, and new life.

 And on Easter, we celebrate the victory of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 We celebrate the gift of salvation that Jesus has given to us.

 And we celebrate the promise of resurrection, and new life, in the life of the world to come.

But the Easter proclamation of resurrection, and new life, isn’t only about the world to come.

 Resurrection, and new life, are God’s gifts to us, now, in this life.

 Jesus once said to his disciples: “I came so that you may have life, and have it abundantly.”

 Through Jesus, God has gifted us, life, in this life.

 And through Jesus, God has gifted us, abundant life.

On this Easter morning, we are reminded that Jesus gives us the gift of resurrection, and new life, in this life.

Some of us might know all about resurrection, and new life.

 Some of us might’ve been headed down wrong pathways, or in wrong directions.

 Some of us might’ve had our lives turned completely around.

 Or, to use the imagery of the day, some of us might’ve died to an old way of life, and might’ve risen to new life.

 Some of us might’ve experienced the transformation that is resurrection, and the gift that is new life.

Or, in our course of our lives, some of us might’ve faced challenge, or tragedy, or worse.

 And some of us might know how it is that God, through Jesus, has helped us to overcome that which might’ve brought us low.

 Some of us might know how it is that God has raised us back up, and has helped us to find new life.

 Some of us might’ve experienced the healing power of resurrection, and the gift of new life.

In some ways, each and every day is an Easter day, and a day when God gifts us with resurrection, and new life.

 No matter what happened yesterday, today is a bright new day, and today is a resurrection day.

 And no matter what happens, today, tomorrow is a new day, and a resurrection day.

 Martin Luther talks about the daily reality of resurrection, and new life, in the context of baptism, writing:

 “Baptism is the death of the old, and the resurrection of the new, both of which continue in us, our whole life long.”

On that first Easter morning, all those years ago, the women went to Jesus’ tomb, to attend to a dead body, as was the custom of the time.

 In our Gospel, this morning, Luke tells us that they brought spices that they had prepared for Jesus’ body.

 But they didn’t find a body.

 Instead, they found an empty tomb, and the beginning of a whole new life.

 In our lives, whenever we face tombs, or things that come to an end, we know that because of Jesus, there is always a new beginning, and that there is always new life.

 And because of Jesus, whenever there is death, there is always resurrection.

On April 11^th, 1945, Rabbi Herschel Schacter drove a US Army Jeep through the gates of Buchenwald concentration camp.

 At the time, Rabbi Schacter was a 27 year old Rabbi, serving as a chaplain in the United States Army.

 He arrived at Buchenwald just about an hour after General Patton had liberated the camp from the Nazi’s.

 Arriving a few days after Passover, the Rabbi would remain there for months, caring for survivors, leading religious services, and helping to resettle thousands of Jews.

 Through his work, and through his care, the Rabbi helped to raise up the survivors he had found there, and helped them to find new life.

At Buchenwald, in addition to the adults, Rabbi Schecter discovered almost a thousand orphaned children, and helped to comfort, and care for them.

 The Rabbi also helped to resettle them in France, and Switzerland, and Palestine, personally accompanying some of the children, on their journey to a new home, and to a new life.

 One child was named Lulek.

 Lulek grew up to be a Rabbi, and is now Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv.

 Lulek, known now, as Rabbi Lau, met with President Obama during the President’s most recent visit to Israel.

 And Lulek told the President about Rabbi Schecter, and said about him, and about his work at the camp:

 “…that the Rabbi, and the Americans, helped to deliver the Buchenwald survivors, not from slavery to freedom, but from death, to life.”

Today is Easter, and today we proclaim resurrection, and we proclaim life.

 New life, in the life of the world to come.

 And abundant life, in this life.

 And in our lives, Jesus raises us up.

 Resurrecting us from a path we shouldn’t be on.

 Raising us up from sorrow, or pain.

 Lifting us out of whatever mistakes yesterday might’ve held.

 Bringing us to a new day, each and every day.

 In our lives, Jesus raises us up.

 The Good News, for us, on this Easter morning, and on this Resurrection Day of new life, is that Jesus Christ is raised, and so are we.

 Amen.

March and April 2013 Newsletter

February 2013 Newsletter

Christmas seems further off, this week, than it did, last week.

Even though we are one week closer to Christmas, it seems that we are so much further away.

And instead of an Advent that excitedly awaits Christ’s birth…

…we find ourselves in an Advent that mournfully awaits Christ’s Kingdom…

…and awaits a time when tragedies like this can not happen.

In the wake of this terrible tragedy in Connecticut, this week, we look for Christ’s Kingdom to come.

Our world needs Christ’s Kingdom to come.

Our world desperately need’s Christ’s Kingdom.

The tragic events on Friday highlight just how urgently we need Christ to come, and heal all that is wrong, in our world.

Much of the time, we think about the idea that Christ will come again, in the abstract.

One day, long into the future.

An event that won’t affect us, or our lives.

And usually, Christ’s Kingdom isn’t something we long for, and cry out for.

Christ’s Kingdom isn’t usually something we beg God, for.

We know that one day Christ’s Kingdom will come, and the world will be healed, and restored.

But we don’t usually long for that day, and we don’t usually weep for that day to hasten.

But on Friday, our longing for Christ’s Kingdom to come, and heal all that is wrong in the world, was brought home to us, in a way we never would’ve imagined.

And in the wake of such a terrible tragedy, we cry out for Christ to come, and put an end to evil, and suffering.

And we cry out for Christ to put an end to the anguish, and pain, and sorrow, that accompanies an event like this.

And in response to what happened in Sandy Hook, in that Elementary School, we weep.

We weep for all of those children, who were killed.

We weep for the teachers and staff members, who were murdered.

We weep for the families whose lives are shattered.

We weep for those kids who survived, and who had to watch, and listen, and witnessed their friends being shot, and injured, and killed.

We weep for all those, whose lives have been altered, because of this.

And we weep for Christ’s Kingdom to come, and drive away evil.

We weep for a new Jerusalem.

We weep for a new earth.

And we cry out for the Kingdom we hope for, and wait for.

And we cry out for the peace, which that Kingdom will bring.

In our Gospel, today, we find John the Baptist calling the world to repentance, and to God, and to neighbors.

And John’s message, was a message of hope, in a terrible time.

To the people in the crowds, listening to today’s Gospel, John’s message was good news.

Luke, in his Gospel, literally describes John’s message as good news, writing: “So, with many other exhortations, John proclaimed the good news to the people.”

And Luke tells us that in response to John’s message: “The people were filled with expectation.”

And in today’s Gospel, Luke describes how the people in the crowds sought John’s council, and advise, about things they could do in their daily lives.

The world that John was born into, and that Jesus was born into, and that existed at that time, was a terrible place.

The people of Israel, and much of the world, lived under the oppression of the Roman Empire.

Even the priests, and the scribes, and the temple authorities, didn’t really have all that much authority, compared to the Roman approved king, and the Roman approved Governor.

In last week’s Gospel, when Luke started to tell us about John the Baptist, Luke reminded us about just that, writing: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, etc…

Luke, in his Gospel, tells us John the Baptist’s story, in the context of the rulers of the world, and in contrast to the powers of the world.

And the world that Luke describes for us…

The oppressive world that John lived in…

The harsh world that all the people in the crowds who went out to see John, and listen to John, lived in…

That’s the world, to which, John the Baptist, proclaims the Good News of Jesus, the Messiah, the one who is coming into the world.

And that’s the world, that heard John’s message, as Good News of great joy.

In some ways, our world isn’t so much different, today.

We also live in a harsh world.

A scary world.

A world where children are brutally, and senselessly, murdered.

A world where awful acts of violence are all too common.

A world where schools, and malls, are not always safe places.

A world where people are cold, and hungry, and lonely, and homeless, and hopeless.

A world where people are sick, and suffering, and dying.

We live in a world that needs good news of great joy.

A world that needs light, in the darkness.

A world that needs peace, and joy.

A world that needs the hope of the one who is to come.

We live in a world that desperately need’s Christ’s Kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven.

And today, John’s message of one who is to come, is exactly the message we need to hear, in the wake of Friday’s horror.

The truth is that we are Advent people.

We are people of hope.

We are people who trust that Christ is the light of the world.

We know that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

In this time of tragedy, and sorrow, we look to Jesus.

We look to Jesus, for comfort, and solace.

We look to Jesus, for healing.

We look to Jesus, for the words we don’t have.

We look to Jesus, who is the light no darkness shall overcome.

In the wake of what happened on Friday, we look to Jesus, who is Emmanuel, who is God with us.

And in the midst of such a horrible tragedy, Jesus, our Emmanuel, is with us, and Jesus, Emmanuel, is with those who now need God’s care, more than ever.

Our world is a scary world.

But’s it’s also a world with hope.

It’s also a world where firefighters, and police officers, and first responders, show up, despite the dangers, to help others in their time of need.

It’s a world where brave and terrified teachers, and staff members, risked their lives, and gave their lives, to save the lives of their students.

It is a world filled with compassion, and overflowing with an outpouring of love, and care, and grief, and sorrow, and solidarity, and support, for the people of Sandy Hook, and Newtown, in their darkest time.

And it’s a world that is always there, reaching out, whenever people are in need.

Our world is a world where our God is Emmanuel, God with us.

2000 years ago, John the Baptist proclaimed good news of great joy, that Jesus is our Emmanuel, that Jesus is our God with us, that Jesus is born among us, and that Jesus brings the Kingdom of God, to us.

In our world, and in our lives, Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us.

In the good, and the bad, and the exciting, and the boring, and the every day.

And most especially, in the tragic, and in the awful.

Our God is God of both the cross, and the empty grave.

Our God is God of heaven, and earth.

Our God is God of the manger, and God of the Kingdom for which we wait, and long for, and cry out for, especially at times like these.

In the face of what happened on Friday, and in the face of any tragedy, our God is always Emmanuel,

our God is always our God who is with us.

And Jesus is always our light, shining, in even the deepest darkness.

Amen.