Epiphany

Jan

2024

Epiphany message: A starry beacon up there for the rocky road down here

As with gladness men of old
did the guiding star behold;
as with joy they hailed its light,
leading onward, beaming bright;
so, most gracious God, may we
evermore be led to Thee.

Hymn lyric by William Chatterton Dix,
written January 6, 1859

The festival of Epiphany (January 6th) “recalls the visit of three Magi, or wise men, to the infant Jesus, and their sense of wonder at the encounter. It is the 12th day after Christmas and closes the Christmas season” (PBS.org).

As this day of Epiphany was approaching, my mind went back to the thoughts and cadences of an Epiphany sermon preached last year by Pastor Gerhardt Miller. I prepared the following abridged version of that message, which Gerhardt graciously has approved for sharing with you here on The Electric Gospel.

A starry beacon up there for the rocky road down here

by Gerhardt Miller

At Epiphany, we remember and ponder the journey of the Magi, “wise men from the East” who “came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage’” (Matthew 2:1-2).

The wise men—whatever their number, two or three or twenty or thirty—did not find their way to the baby Jesus by accident. The wise men, wherever their hometown, were on a mission, and they completed that mission with diligence and faith. They depended on God’s grace. We too realize that anything we accomplish is accomplished with God’s grace. Make no mistake, these Magi did not stumble by accident through the front door of the private home of the Infant Jesus. That the wise men were brought to the humble threshold of Mary and Joseph and the child Jesus was because God had blessed them with more than education and insight and privilege. God also blessed them with faithful perseverance, matching the challenge of finding this precious child called Jesus. These figures we call the wise men, I suppose they were privileged. These wise men were blessed with an education. They were scholars. They studied astronomy and astrology. They knew the heavens and the stars and the planets. Their learning included more than what was above their heads. It also included what was written and reported at their fingertips. These learned souls were students of ancient literature as well. Their education would have included discourses on the forces of good and the forces of evil.

These wise men had learned Scripture and were committed to finding the Christchild. Wherever they had learned Scripture and astronomy and theology, they had to reapply that learning to a journey over real roads with real hardships and hazards. Think of it, these Magi left what was familiar and safe. They ventured into the unfamiliar and the strange—willingly, even eagerly. They left the comforts of home, endeavoring into the discomforts of the rocky road at best and the unmarked, roadless wilderness at worst. They threw themselves into the perils of becoming foreigners, when they could have just stayed put in the comforts of their own ivory towers.They left all of that behind to seek Jesus.

Let us praise the wise men for their persistence. Persistence requires faith. We do not persist if our doubts are greater than our faith. The wise men had faith in the promise they had heard. The most glorious evidence that God is love is found in the flesh and blood of a small child. The wise men wanted to see, and to bow in worship. When they left home, the wise men did not know the address or longitude or latitude of their destination. When they set out, they did not know how many miles they would travel. When they packed their bags they did not know who or what they would encounter in their quest to find this new king. When they left home, all they knew was that they were following a sign to wherever and whomever it would lead them. Let us praise these wise men for their willingness to go the distance. They went the distance in all of its mess and muck to discover God. They went the distance with all of its heat and cold and wetness and dryness. They went the distance with all of its uncertainty and pitfalls and sorrow. But in taking that journey, these wise men had a starry beacon to lead them, to show them the way.

Sometimes we need a beacon to shine—to know which way to go and have a safe road. We think of these figures having a starry beacon to show them the way when the way was clear. But the leading star above them did not remove them from the dirt and sand and danger around them. The star up there guided them, but they still had to go through the difficult road below. The starry beacon up there fortified them for the challenges ahead of them. When we are inspired, we are fortified. And the wise men were inspired.

How has inspiration given you strength in your journey? The Lord gives us strength and inspiration through Scripture and also through the people and happenings around us. God gives us strength to do the things that are difficult for us to do. When we are inspired, we are fortified. Sometimes our roads are rocky, and we need a star. Sometimes our days are dark and we cannot see a star. But we remember learning about a light and even seeing the light … and the sheer memory of God’s light gets us to put one fearful foot in front of the other fearful foot, to get us through the scary dark into the loving light.

For those wise men, when the road was rocky, they could see the star. When there was no road to follow, they could see the star. When the way was rough and steep and strange and frightening, they could see the star. When they encountered fearful circumstances around them and experienced doubt within themselves, they could see the star. When they were tired and cold and hungry and thirsty, they could see the star. As long as they could see the star, they could keep on going.

Have you ever wanted to just give up? We want to match the determination of these wise men, these learned souls. When the star was not seen by them, it was remembered by them—and in its being remembered, it shone on. The light in their memory could keep them going. Whatever the mess around these wise men, whatever the difficulty challenging them, they could see the star or look for the star or just remember the star. So, they could keep on going.

When we are inspired we are fortified: the starry beacon up there for the rocky road down here.

May our inspiration in our quest to discover truth and beauty—to discover God in God’s countless forms—be the Christchild, Jesus. May our beacon be Jesus’ love, for Jesus’ love and grace and understanding give us strength to carry on. Not only that, but Christ gives us the guidance to know where to go. May the name of Jesus be our beacon in our quest to discover God in our commonplace lives (that are not so commonplace in the end). Despite their high position and all their finery, the Magi had to work to find Jesus. Like the wise men, sometimes we have to work to find Jesus. Like the wise men, we have to work to see a small sliver of light to carry us over rocky roads and through the wilderness. Like the wise men, may we find strength in our purpose, so we can navigate life’s difficult roads. May our eyes be opened to see heavenly beauty when we feel bogged down on the rocky roads here below.

Prayer: Lord, have mercy for each and every one of us, especially for the times we have failed to see how you are with us in our lives. Teach us, so that we may understand and know that you are living and loving and with us, almighty God. Shine your beacon of light on us, to strengthen us for the roads we walk, trusting in Jesus. Amen.

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Feb

2023

Not hiding from our own flesh and blood

We share love in a lonely, hurting world

February 5th / Epiphany 5

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-12, 1 Corinthians 2:1-16, Matthew 5:13-20

More than fifteen years ago, The Barna Group conducted a survey of non-Christians aged 16 to 29. The predominant perception about church people was quite negative. 85 percent of church outsiders said they perceived present-day Christianity as hypocritical and judgmental. I remember when the book from that study came out, called unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…and Why It Matters. I attended a study group that discussed the book and its implications. The group spent much of its time protesting conclusions the book presented. One participant kept objecting that survey respondents were using an incorrect definition of what “hypocritical” means. I found myself getting frustrated with the discussion. If we sat and debated whether outsiders’ perceptions of the church were unfair, we were failing to acknowledge what we needed to acknowledge. If churches and their members lived up to the calling we have in Christ, would public perception of the church be so low? Jesus said, “Everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). The corollary is also true: If we are not known for the love we have for others, if we are not seen putting love into action, people will question whether we are indeed Jesus’ disciples.

Barna Group graphic from https://www.barna.com/research/christians-more-like-jesus-or-pharisees/

At the start of the COVID-19 pandemic (in April of 2020), religion writer Jonathan Merritt argued that some of the most visible Christians in America were failing the coronavirus test. “In place of love, they’re offering stark self-righteous judgment,” Merritt observed. He followed up with David Kinnamon, coauthor of that 2007 book, unChristian. Kinnaman told him the Barna Group continued to monitor attitudes toward Christianity and perceptions hadn’t improved. There has been a further erosion of connection by young people to churches. Kinnaman reported that “those who walk away from the church are most often struggling with the hypocrisy of other churchgoers” (The Atlantic, April 4, 2020). Many are viewing the church today the way the Pharisees were seen in Jesus’ day—as people who talk amongst themselves about being righteous, but do nothing for people in their communities. We need to exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees (Matthew 5:20). We need a better sort of righteousness, keeping the highest command, to love our neighbors as ourselves (cf. Matthew 22:39, Romans 13:8-10).

The first generations of Christians put love into practice toward their neighbors—and it led people to think differently of Christians. As Christ’s followers let their light shine before others, others saw their good works and gave glory to God (cf. Matthew 5:16). A writer about the church’s early history has said: “At no other time in the history of Christianity did love so characterize the entire church as it did in the first three centuries.” As a result, “Christianity spread rapidly throughout the ancient world, even though there were few organized missionary or evangelism programs. The love they practiced drew the attention of the world” (EarlyChurch.com).

The early Christians had a dramatic impact on their world by serving, in quiet, unassuming ways. They busied themselves with everyday actions of kindness and compassion. Some of the most prominent times when their faith-filled behavior was a blessing to others was when Christians served the sick and the dying during epidemics and pandemics (Barnabas Today, 4/19/2021). COVID-19 is by no means the first pandemic the world has seen, but now in our own lifetimes we have seen what a pandemic can do to society. Imagine the devastation in the ancient world, when there were no vaccines or antiviral drug treatments. For fifteen years, from 165 to 180 AD, the Roman Empire experienced its first pandemic. It was known as the Antonine Plague (named after the imperial dynasty in power during that time). Roman legion troops brought the disease back with them from the eastern frontiers of the empire. People died by the millions. The mortality rate is estimated by scholars to have been 7 to 10 percent of the population of the empire, in some places as high as 15 percent. One chronicler documented a year during the plague when 2000 people a day were dying in the city of Rome. What were Christians doing during those days? Early sources document that Christians did not abandon their neighbors or their communities. Rather, to quote Dionysius of Athens, they were “unsparing in their exceeding love and brotherly kindness. They held fast to each other and visited the sick fearlessly and ministered to them continually, serving them in Christ” (quoted in Barnabas Today). In the process, of course, many Christians lost their own lives to the pandemic. But their actions had impressed the world around them, and interest in their faith grew.

Epidemics and pandemics continued to occur in the decades that followed that first plague. The conduct of Christians remained resolute in those difficult times, loving their neighbors even to the point of death. Within a couple centuries, even the most powerful opponents of the church had to acknowledge the love Christ’s people showed. The emperor Julian, an enemy and persecutor of Christianity, wrote a letter in 362 AD to a high priest of the Roman religion. Referring to Christians as “Galileans” (because Jesus was from Galilee), he wrote that Christians were making his priests look bad. He said that while “the poor were neglected and overlooked by the [pagan] priests … the impious Galileans … devoted themselves to philanthropy. … [They] support not only their poor but ours as well, [while] all can see that our people lack aid from us” (Letter to Arsacius, quoted in BibleMesh, 3/20/20). Julian, by the way, is known as “the last pagan emperor” in the Roman era. He had tried to restore the old Roman religion to dominance, but by his time, Christianity had taken too deep a hold in too many people’s hearts.

Photo by Chalmers Butterfield, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5>, via Wikimedia Commons

In today’s world (and rightfully so), we look to public health departments and medical facilities to carry the largest share of helping our communities through public health emergencies. That doesn’t mean opportunities are lacking for Christians to help and comfort people in need. There are so many needs of so many kinds across all our communities. There is, in fact, another sort of public health crisis calling out to us now, calling us to reach out to others with compassion and kindness. This health crisis afflicts millions of people. Research has shown it to be as bad for you as smoking 15 cigarettes per day. It’s a condition that creates a 20% overall increase in the chance of experiencing an early death (Michigan State University Extension). What public health crisis is this? Research by Cigna has shown that more than half of U.S. adults (58%) are experiencing loneliness. Researchers at Harvard, Columbia University, and elsewhere are calling it the loneliness epidemic. We are surrounded in our communities by people who are deeply lonely. Maybe we ourselves are affected by the same loneliness and isolation. Can we, as Christians in our communities and as church groups, become Christ to our neighbors who are lonely? The loneliness epidemic is not like smallpox (such as Antonine Plague) or a dangerous coronavirus (such as COVID-19). We won’t be risking our lives by making efforts to engage with persons who need befriending. If anything, our own spirits may also be lifted and encouraged by sharing life and love with others.

Many years ago, I did a year of internship in Houston, training for ministry. I was a northern boy in a big Texas city. The congregation where I served was wonderfully friendly, but I was many miles from home and away from familiar surroundings and classmates I had known. The congregation had set me up in an apartment of my own, and there were nights I would get lonely. First I felt sorry for myself, feeling like I was stranded by myself. Then I decided to make the most of opportunities that were, quite honestly, right in front of me. The church in suburban Houston had a long list of outreach contacts. My internship duties didn’t require me to go out visiting those persons as much as I did. But I learned that the best cure for my own loneliness was to take time to go out and visit with people who’d had some contact with our church. Making efforts to show friendship to other persons in the church’s neighborhoods brought benefits to me as much as to those I visited. We gave encouragement to each other.

My friends, you and I are “the salt of the earth,” as Jesus has told us (Matthew 5:13). We are here to preserve and extend the lives of others, the way that salt was used as a food preservative in Bible times. We are also here to enhance others’ lives with flavor, making life less bland. As the apostle Paul said, “Conduct yourself with wisdom in your interactions with outsiders; make the most of each opportunity [treating it as something precious]. Let your speech at all times be gracious and pleasant, seasoned with salt” in the way that you relate to others in the community (Colossians 4:5-6, The Amplified Bible).

The prophet Isaiah described the sort of actions we will undertake as God’s people, striving to bring goodness to others in our world. We will seek to “loose the bonds of injustice … to break every yoke” (Isaiah 58:6) that weighs on the bodies and souls of others. As Scripture says elsewhere, “ Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2). Isaiah urged us to share our bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into our homes, clothe those who are lacking clothing, satisfy the needs of the afflicted (Isaiah 58:7,10).

Isaiah told us also: “Do not “hide yourself from your own kin” (Isaiah 58:7). “Our own kin” is more than our own immediate family or the relatives at our family reunion. God’s prophet was calling us to think of all our fellow human beings as our own flesh and blood, because, ultimately, “from one blood [God] made the whole world of humanity” (Acts 17:26, The Aramaic Bible in Plain English). So, we can’t hide ourselves away and ignore others’ needs, pretending we can’t see them or what they are suffering. All the people in our neighborhoods and communities are our brothers and sisters, our neighbors and countrymen. We want to see them, pay attention to them, be there for them.

I’m not saying you individually are going to take away the loneliness and needs of everyone around you in your communities. But each of us can do what we can do. We can start small. We can do the little things. Let me make a proposal to you. In a short time, we’re coming up on Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day can be a difficult day for persons who don’t have the companionship in their lives that they wish they had, or who are missing family members far away or out of touch. A couple weeks ago, I got an email from Etsy (an online company) acknowledging the difficulty of such holidays for lonely people. The email said, “We understand this time can be tough. If you would prefer not to receive Valentine’s Day emails from us, you can opt out by clicking below.” I was reminded of an old Peanuts TV special from years ago, when Charlie Brown went to school hoping to get many Valentine’s cards from his classmates, and got none (Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown, 1975).

So, maybe if you want to reach out to someone this month, someone who may be lonely, someone who may be hurting, or maybe someone you just haven’t connected with for a while, you don’t need to make it about Valentine’s Day. You can reach out just because. You can take time to connect with others in a variety of ways. You can send a card—a general friendship or encouragement card. You can write a letter, sharing with someone what you have appreciated about them. You can go knock on someone’s door, say hello. As one Christian writer has said, “Showing love needn’t be that involved: a compassionate phone call made, a greeting card sent, a door held. If you bake, make a batch of cookies or brownies for a friend. Provide an ear and heart to listen. All these gestures communicate love” (Warner Press blog). We can apply to our own witness what the apostle Paul said of his: Our speech need not be with “persuasive words of human wisdom” (1 Corinthians 2:4, Young’s LIteral Translation). We need no fancy language or elaborate efforts. Our simple words and acts of kindness will be “a demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Corinthians 2:4).

If you’d like some resources for ideas about showing kindness or helping the lonely, here are some worthwhile ones:

Very early in the Bible, we are told, when God created human beings, that it is not good for a person to be alone (Genesis 2:18). “That statement of need actually predates the first sin” (Christians for Social Action). Think about that. Even when the world was perfect, loneliness would have ruined the joy and beauty of the Garden of Eden. How much more difficult loneliness can be in our fallen, fragile, imperfect world! We need each other. The people around us need us.

As Christ’s people, filled with the Spirit of fellowship in our hearts, let’s reach out in fellowship to others. “Whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all” (Galatians 6:10). “Let mutual love continue” (Hebrews 13:1)—not only within our own family of faith, but also showing hospitality to strangers (Hebrews 13:2). And perhaps let’s focus our efforts by thinking about those who may be lonely, those who may be isolated, those who might be the Charlie Browns of our neighborhoods, not receiving many encouragements or greetings. Let’s pick up a pen and write, pick up the phone and call, step outside of our comfort zone and visit people we may not know very well. May the light that has brightened our lives in Jesus be like a lamp on a lampstand, (Matthew 5:15), bringing light to our neighbors in our communities by each small act of kindness that we can do.

—

Jan

2023

Eager to connect others to Jesus

We point others to Jesus, sharing what we have seen in him

[For the second Sunday after Epiphany]

Bible reference to read: John 1:35-46

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In the book, No Wonder They Call Him the Savior (1986), Max Lucado told of a teenage girl who ran away from home to the big city. (See “Runaway Daughter” for the full story.) Her mother put pictures of herself throughout the city, with this note on the back of each photo: “Whatever you have done, whatever you have become, it doesn’t matter. Please come home.”

Sometimes it’s the simple messages, spoken with love, that mean the most. The same can be said about our outreach to others in Christ. Church researcher Win Arn and his organization surveyed more than 10,000 people, asking how they came to faith in Christ and membership in their churches. They found that:

3 to 5 percent reported that they simply walked in and stayed.
3 to 4 percent listed a church program as what drew them to church.
The pastor accounted for 4 to 6 percent.
Special needs were listed by 2 to 4 percent.
Visitation by church representatives accounted for 1 to 2 percent of church members.
Sunday school brought in 3 to 6 percent.

That leaves about 75 to 85 percent of lay people in churches that weren’t drawn by one of those things. How did they become part of the church? They say friends or relatives are the ones who connected them to Christ and church (Christianity Today).

That says something to each of us. It’s not the person with the theology degree. It’s not the person with years of training who has the best chance of reaching those you care about. It’s you, each of you. We are eager to connect others to Jesus, knowing that relationships built on Jesus are relationships that always endure, that never end. We point others to Jesus and his love. We share with them what we have seen and experienced in Jesus.

We see this process in action in the heralding work of John the Baptist and the calling of Jesus’ first disciples. John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus, pointed people to him and said: “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” John used a simple description that meant much to the people of his time. In the religious context of Israel, a lamb was an animal for sacrifice. It was a payment for sin that God had said he would accept. Lambs brought to the temple for sacrifice were regular reminders of the hope the people had, awaiting the Anointed One they were expecting God to send. The Messiah would be the ultimate sacrifice, the one to stand in the place for all people. His life and his sacrificial death would atone once, for all. When John called Jesus “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), the meaning was clear to all who heard him. Jesus is the one designated by God the Father as “the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 John 2:2). Jesus is our substitute. Jesus is the sacrifice. Jesus is our Savior.

If we are to communicate the message of Jesus to others, this is something for us to keep in mind. Our message need not be a deep doctrinal treatise full of points and subpoints, with footnotes and a bibliography of all our research. The central gospel message is very simple: Whoever you are, whatever you have done or whatever you’ve become, it doesn’t matter. Jesus gave himself in love for you. He loves you now, still, and always. So please come home to him. That simple message, spoken in love, is powerful. Each of you can give that message to those you love and those in your circle of acquaintance. You can point to Jesus just as well as any prophet or preacher could do.

What was the reaction when John the Baptist pointed to Jesus? We’re told what at least two men did. Two disciples (Andrew and John, son of Zebedee) heard John say this about Jesus, “and they followed Jesus” (John 1:37). Notice that John the Baptist was glad to see those who had learned from him go to follow Jesus. He wasn’t trying to gain a following for himself. Those of us who know Jesus aren’t focused on how many people we can get to follow us into our own particular churches or ministries. We simply want to connect others to the joy and truth we have found in Jesus. We want others to follow Jesus too, wherever he might lead.

Image attribution: TheHymnSociety.org

Andrew right away “found his brother Simon and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’” (John 1:41). Jesus gave Simon a new name, “Cephas” (in Aramaic), or Peter (in Greek) which means “rock.” Jesus was going to be the rock of stability and hope for Simon Peter as well as for Andrew and for all whom Jesus would call. When you come to know the solid ground of faith that is found in Jesus, you want everyone else to know the same. Being brought to Jesus means to be drawn up “out of the miry bog,” the sinking sand of all the false hopes in this world, and have our feet set upon a rock, making our steps secure (Psalm 40:2). Andrew was urgent about sharing that with his brother.

The same urgency to lead others to Jesus was felt by Philip, the next apostle that Jesus called. When Jesus found Philip and said, “Follow me,” right away Philip found his friend Nathanael and told him, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote. … Come and see” (John 1:44-46).

All of these individuals were disciples Jesus was going to train to be apostles. They would be leaders of the church that Jesus was establishing. But do you notice? They did not wait to complete their years of seminary training with Jesus before they started sharing the good news about him. Sharing the joy and salvation of Jesus is not something you have to wait until you’re an “experienced” Christian or a trained church worker before you can do. Any of us can be active in sharing Christ’s joy daily with others.

I once was part of a congregation that wanted to do outreach to their community, so they formed an evangelism committee. The committee’s first decision was that they needed to train for the task. It was a noble thought, but the committee kept training and training and training, in a room by themselves at the church, for month after month. They never felt like they knew enough, never felt confident enough to go talk about the faith with others. So while they had gathered with the intention of being an outreach committee, they never actually got out the door. They kept convincing themselves they weren’t ready yet.

We do better if we think of the familiar song, “This Little Light of Mine” as a picture of our witness for Christ. If you are holding the light of the gospel in your hands, like holding a candle, when does that candle start giving off light? As soon as it is lit. A candle that has been burning a long time does not necessarily burn brighter than one that has just begun to burn. You can be shining your light all around your neighborhood right now, day by day. Sure, you can also keep training (as Jesus’ first disciples did) to gain greater understanding of the truths revealed in Jesus. But you need not wait to be a witness until you have some sort of degree or certificate in theology. You know what Jesus has meant to you. You can share that news and point others to him, as Andrew did with Peter, as Philip did with Nathanael. Each of them shined their light right away, and lit up another flame.

What Andrew and Philip did was nothing extraordinary. They simply shared what they had experienced in Jesus with a family member, with a friend. What we do for our friends and family and neighbors need not be anything more extraordinary than that. Share with them. Invite them. Simply introduce them to Jesus and what he has meant in your life. Like Andrew, like Philip, we have found the Christ, the Savior. He has made us his disciples, his followers, his friends—a relationship that will last forever. May God’s Spirit be with you and me as we share with others the good news we have found in Jesus. As the apostle John (one of those early disciples of Jesus) later said, we tell others “what we have seen and heard so that [they] also may have fellowship with us … [and] with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ … so that our joy may be complete” (1 John 1:3,4).

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Jan

2022

Hidden in Plain Sight

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

Thoughts for Epiphany (January 6) and for the Baptism of our Lord (Sunday after Epiphany)
David Sellnow

They say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
But if there is a God, we need him now
“Where is your God”
That’s what my friends ask me
And I say it’s taken him so long
‘Cause we’ve got so far to come

-Stevie Wonder, “Heaven is 10 Zillion Light Years Away,” Fulfillingness’ First Finale (Tamla, 1974)

Some of you might recognize those lyrics from a Stevie Wonder song from 1974. It was the case then–and remains the case always–that human eyes look for evidence of God’s presence in big, obvious ways. We think that if our lives are overflowing with an abundance of wealth and good health, that’s when God is with us. When times are hard, we assume we’ve been abandoned and God isn’t there. There are problems with this point of view. For one thing, having riches and success rarely indicates how close to God a person is. In fact, many powerful, successful persons often achieve such glories by godlessness–not by prioritizing kindness and walking humbly in the ways of God (cf. Micah 6:8). Another thing: The testimony of Scripture shows that God never abandons those who trust in his name, and he is especially with us in the experiences that challenge our faith in him.

Think of Job, who lost all his wealth and lost loved ones and cried out wondering where God was. God knew everything and was, in fact, striving to connect Job’s heart even closer to his own.
Think of the parables Jesus told. It was not the well-to-do Pharisee who was right with God as he bragged proudly of how much he’d done. The social pariah, the tax collector, who prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 9:13)–that’s who Jesus said was exalted in God’s eyes.
It was not the rich man “dressed in purple and fine linen … who feasted sumptuously every day” that ascended into heaven on the day he died (Luke 18:19-31). The beggar who sat in the street outside the rich man’s home, whose only friends were stray dogs that licked his open sores–that’s the person Jesus said was blessed.

When we look at the world through our usual human perspective, we don’t see God in action in the obvious ways we want to see.

The way we see things and the way things really often are out of alignment. As we go about our lives, we focus on physical, material, tangible things that can easily be measured. We are not attuned to sensing spiritual realities–the ways that in God “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Psychologists have noticed something called “inattentional blindness” in how we interpret the world. Rather than noticing each detail around us, we tend to concentrate on the things most important to us. We see things in the context of existing mental frameworks that we have adopted (Kendra Cherry, “Inattentional Blindness in Psychology, VeryWellMind, 5/4/2020). If you’ll allow me to apply that principle in a broader way, our earthbound primary focus notices the flow of what’s happening outwardly in our lives, and we miss many details of what God is doing in and through and underneath those events. While “no one has ever seen God” (John 1:18), the hand of God is evident in things that can be seen. “Ever since the creation of the world, God’s eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made” (Romans 1:20). But we tend not to look past outward appearances, and so we miss seeing important truths. “Focusing our attention on one thing can cause us to overlook another” even if the other is right in front of us. (Daniel Nevers, “A Brief History of Hiding in Plain Sight, Mills College Art Museum, 2019). That’s how we tend to be with the manifestations of God that are given to us. God shows himself, but human beings mostly fail to pay attention to these evidences of God. Spiritual realities escape our notice, hidden in plain sight all around us.

Think about the ways God made himself known when Jesus Christ came into our world. There were clear manifestations of the miracle of redemption God was bringing about, but most people’s attention was aimed in other directions. When God chooses to make his presence seen and known, he often does so in what seem like insignificant ways.

When Jesus was born, he arrived in one of the world’s least significant places, the little town of Bethlehem. The King of kings might be expected to be found in a palace, at the center of politics and power. Yet when astronomers from an eastern land came looking for him in Jerusalem, the king in Jerusalem had to consult Jewish religious scholars to ask where the Messiah was to be born (Matthew 2:4).
The woman who had given birth to Jesus was no one of fame or acclaim. She and Joseph, the legal father of the virgin-born child Jesus, both were “descended from the house and family line of David” (Luke 2:4), but otherwise they were pretty much nobodies. Joseph was a carpenter (Matthew 13:55). Mary was his teenage wife, who herself said the Lord had “looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant” when choosing her to bear the Christ child in her womb (Luke 1:48).
When Jesus was anointed to begin his work as Teacher and Savior, there was no grand national ceremony with parades and dignitaries. Rather, John, a cousin of Jesus, served as the prophet to point to Jesus as the Messiah. John lived in the wilderness by the Jordan River, wearing clothing of camel’s hair and subsisting on a diet of locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4). John proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Mark 1:4), and people did come to be baptized. Then Jesus requested that John baptize him also–“to fulfill all righteousness,” as Jesus insisted (Matthew 3:15). At Jesus’ baptism, “the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’” (Luke 3:22). But I wonder if most people who were there when that happened heard and saw things differently. “Look at that, a dove just landed on him,” I imagine many said, not understanding the spiritual significance. And, as happened on another occasion when the Father spoke audibly from heaven, rather than hearing the words “This is my Son, the Beloved,” the crowd standing there may well have thought, “Was that thunder?” (cf. John 12:28-29).

Our eyes and ears aren’t attuned in such a way that we grasp the workings of God, even when they happen right in front of us. Think of baptism itself, the holy act by which God claims us as his own. What do we see? Ordinary water, nothing special. A few simple words, as we are baptized into “the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). When we have our baptisms, there is no dove that miraculously appears or audible voice speaking from the skies. But with eyes of faith, we confess that “baptism is not simply plain water,” but that “it is water used according to God’s command and connected with God’s word.” We believe beyond what we can see, that baptism “brings about forgiveness of sins, redeems from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism). So also with communion, the Lord’s Supper. We eat and drink the most basic sorts of things – little bits of bread, small sips of wine. But because such simple actions were directed by Christ himself, whoever believes his words “has what they declare, namely, forgiveness of sin” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism).

Such is God’s way of making himself known to us, his way of connecting himself to us, of doing the miraculous for us. It’s not typically in the spectacular, but in things that seem everyday and ordinary. Do you remember Naaman, “commander of the army of the king of Aram, a great man and in high favor”–but who suffered from the disease of leprosy (2 Kings 5:1)? Naaman had a slave girl who had been captured from the people of Israel. The slave girl urged her master Naaman to go see the prophet in Israel for healing. Naaman went to Israel, and the prophet Elisha merely sent a messenger to tell him to go wash in the Jordan River seven times and he’d be healed (2 Kings 5:10). Naaman became angry and began to leave, because he was expecting some great and mighty prophet to “come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord” and wave his hand over Naaman in dramatic fashion and cure the disease (2 Kings 5:11). Naaman had to be convinced by others of his servants, who said to him, “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it” (2 Kings 5:13)? So, Naaman did the simple thing the prophet had said, and he was healed.

That’s how it often is with God. As Elisha’s teacher, Elijah, had learned, don’t expect God to show up by splitting mountains in half or shaking the earth beneath our feet. God more likely will make his presence known in what Elijah heard as the “sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12), or “a still, small voice,” as the King James Version of the Bible expressed it. Every day, in all sorts of seemingly ordinary ways, God makes his presence known and shares his grace by the life and witness of people who are acting in his name.

There is the son who visits his elderly mother every weekend, spends time with her, takes care of chores around the house for her, cooks a meal for her. And when she has to go to a nursing home, the son continues to visit, even as his mother becomes more confined, her health diminishes, and her memory fades away.
There is the mother whose toddler is throwing a tantrum and cannot calm down, so she sits down on the floor and gathers the child in her arms and just holds on, closely, securely, through all the kicks and screams, until the toddler finally melts into her embrace and hugs her back and says, “I’m sorry, Momma. I love you, Momma.”
There is the student who sees a schoolmate being picked on by others, avoided and ostracized and gossiped about for being different–and this classmate seeks out and befriends the outcast. They sit together in the cafeteria, spend time together studying and not studying (just hanging out), making it clear to everyone that acceptance and understanding are better than prejudice and pettiness.

Those could be just human actions of kindness, yes. In many cases, though, they are far more than that. They are the acts of God’s people making God’s love known in the ordinary course of events, doing things that are, in fact, extraordinary. God is working to make himself known to others through you–ordinary people in your everyday lives. Nothing spectacular. Nothing dazzling. Just you laboring patiently to serve your family, your neighbors, your community. Just you loving earnestly and committedly, caring for others with hearts that have been invigorated by the Spirit of Christ. That’s your calling as God’s people. God says to each of you, “I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. … You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:1,4). He also says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isaiah 43:2). How does that help, that strength, that rescue from the Lord usually show up in your lives when you are hurting or in trouble? Through the actions of people doing simple things, basic, necessary things, in God’s name. The neighbor who shovels your sidewalk or snowblows your driveway–because he knows you are away from home, caring for a sick relative. Fellow church members who take turns dropping off meals at your home–because you are the caregiver for a disabled family member or for your spouse who is going through chemotherapy, and they want to help bear your burdens. Complete strangers who contribute to an online plea for funds to help with extensive medical bills incurred from a major surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital ICU recovering from disease.

Every now and then, God has intervened in history with supernatural interruptions of natural events. But more often, God does his work through us, his people, in less astonishing ways. Let me remind you again of the experience of God’s prophet Elijah. Elijah had the experience of God making his presence obvious and forceful and explosive. Elijah prevailed over the enemies of God by calling on God to do a miracle, to consume a sacrifice with fire sent from heaven. And God did so, spectacularly. “The fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench” around Elijah’s offering (1 Kings 18:38). But the perspective of the world doesn’t readily change when a miracle like that happens. In fact, the enemies of God (and of Elijah) only got more determined against God’s plans and against God’s prophet. Death threats were issued from the royal household against Elijah, and he ran. He ran back to the mountain where God had once revealed himself to Moses, and felt ready to die. “I’ve had enough,” he said to God. “Take away my life” (1 Kings 19:4). Instead, God told him to get up and he would reveal himself to Elijah. God did show himself, but not in expected ways. Not in a mighty, raging wind. Not in a rock-smashing earthquake. God revealed himself In a still, small voice, in the “sound of sheer silence” (I kings 19).

God’s powerful presence is often in the still, small voice–a voice carried out into the world by individuals, one at a time, by people like Elijah, by people like you and me. God’s way of enacting change in the hearts of people, one person at a time, is by the simple testimony of his words on our lips and his love lived out in our lives. He brings about the miracle of salvation by one baptism, then another baptism, then another, sending his Spirit to live in each baptized person’s heart and life. He carries out the actions of salvation in our hearts and lives, as we who have been saved by grace through faith, “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (Ephesians 3:10), go about doing those works on behalf of one another, and for our neighbors, and for our communities.

When you feel like God is 10 zillion light years away, like God is so far distant from your life that you wonder if he’s even there at all, look again. Listen again. Feel again. Take notice of the little things, the inconspicuous ways that God is showing himself. Others’ actions. Your own actions. All the everyday words and actions whereby God makes his presence known and shares his peace among us. The smallest of kind words and actions toward one of the least of those whom Jesus considers his brothers and sisters are gifts to Jesus and blessings from Jesus (cf. Matthew 25:40). As Martin Luther taught, “God is so in control that the good we do is really God’s work. We’re nothing but the hands of Christ …. In the good we do, we are ‘little Christs’ to each other” (Luther’s Works, Vol.34, p.111, Volu.24, p.226, Vol. 31, p.367-368, quoted by Mark Ellingson in Living Lutheran, August 11, 2017). May our lives each day appreciate and extend the Epiphany of Christ in this way.

We share love in a lonely, hurting world

We point others to Jesus, sharing what we have seen in him

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

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