Sermon on Luke 3:7-18

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Our Advent theme this year is A Weary World Rejoices, a line from the beloved Christmas carol “O Holy Night,” because there’s a lot of weariness in the world, even after almost a full year of focusing on Sabbath in this congregation.

Each week, we’ll ponder one of God’s promises.This week is the promise of restoration.

And restoration was certainly what God’s people needed in the time of Zephaniah.

He was prophesying in the time between the books of Isaiah and Jeremiah. King Josiah was on the throne.

When you read through the Hebrew Bible, there’s a good stretch where there’s one king who behaves wickedly, dies, and is replaced by another wicked king.

When you get to King Josiah, it’s a relief. He sought to bring about reform and draw people back to God.

But destruction was still coming.

The first several chapters of Zephaniah predict the “Day of the Lord,” when God’s judgment will come upon both God’s people and their enemies.

He called out the idolatry of God’s people and the injustice and violence of their rulers.

There had been generation after generation of poor leadership, which had led the people to lose their trust in God.

But in chapter 3, Zephaniah’s words suddenly turn hopeful, as he exhorts God’s people to rejoice. The Day of the Lord isn’t about terrifying vengeance against God’s people for their wicked ways. Our reading even says, “The Lord has taken away the judgments against you;he has turned away your enemies.”

The Day of the Lord is about restoration. In our reading, God promised to free God’s people from their enemies, “save the lame and gather the outcast,” and bring God’s people home.

God will restore the wholeness God intended in Creation.

But the time wasn’t yet, and still isn’t.

Yes, God sent the promised Messiah, Jesus, so we could see God face-to-face. Jesus broke the power of sin and death through the cross and resurrection.

But the fullness of the Reign of God isn’t here yet.

Sure, we get glimpses in the beauty of nature, the kindness of an old friend, or the hospitality of a stranger.

But the world still isn’t as it should be, and it’s easy to overlook the glimpses of heaven in the weariness of the here and now.

There’s so much in the world that is cruel, unjust, tragic, and senseless.

How do we go on when it seems like the world is going to Hell in the proverbial handbasket?

John had some ideas in our Gospel reading.

The first part could be summed up by the now cliché saying, “be the change you want to see in the world.”

People came to see him in the wilderness and asked how they should live in anticipation of the Day of the Lord.

John told them to share what they have.

And when people with specific professions asked him, he told the tax collectors not to cheat people, and he told the soldiers not to threaten people or steal from them.

Just as Zephaniah called out idolatry and injustice in his time, John was calling people to release their idols of greed and work for justice and peace in their own small ways: give someone a coat, take only what is owed, care for your fellow humans.

These small acts were ways they were dedicating their lives to God as they waited for the Messiah to come.

And after telling them how to wait, John told them about that coming Messiah. He pointed them to Jesus and told them Good News.

John’s proclamation wasn’t just a laundry list of good works to make us right with God (because works don’t save us—God’s grace does). John’s proclamation pointed them to Jesus, where their true restoration lay.

The Messiah would save the world, and while they waited for that, they could live in the way Jesus would soon teach them: love God and love your neighbor. Make the world a little more as it is in heaven.

There’s a Christmas song from the musical Mame called “We Need a Little Christmas.”The eccentric Auntie Mamehas hit some financial trouble shortly before Thanksgiving while raising her nephew during the Depression. The coming holidays, not to mention their future together, suddenly seem bleak. But the irrepressible Auntie Mame declares that they should start celebrating Christmas now, launching into the song “We Need a Little Christmas.”

A few bittersweet lyrics hint that Auntie Mame is not as cheerful as she pretends:

“It's time we hung some tinsel on that evergreen bough.
For I've grown a little leaner,
Grown a little colder,
Grown a little sadder,
Grown a little older,
And I need a little angel
Sitting on my shoulder,
Need a little Christmas now.”

I think many of us love this season not just for its spiritual significance, but for the simple joys it promises:coziness, comfort, connection with family, playfulness, peace, and nostalgia for a time past that perhaps never existed to begin with.

I think we all have a picture in our heads of what a perfect Christmas should be like. It’s probably a little different for each of us, but one thing is the same: we’ve never experienced it.

Even the happiest of holidays probably had a crying toddler, a disappointed wish, a petty argument, a burnt turkey, or an absent family member.

And as much as we sing of peace on earth this time of year, none of us have ever experienced that in our lifetimes.

Maybe that’s exactly why we need a little Christmas—not because our experience of it is perfect, but because it, like Zephaniah and John the Baptist, points us to the fulfillment of God’s promises.

In other words, maybe we all do need a little Christmas right this very moment, because it and Advent anticipates God turning the world upside-down (or perhaps right-side up), restoring everything and everyone to God’s self.

Advent and Christmas point to God’s bigger story that we’re a part of. Every longing for a perfect Christmas is actually a longing for the world to be made right in the way God intended from the beginning.

As Auntie Mame sings,

“And we need a little snappy
‘Happy ever after,’
Need a little Christmas now.”

If this Advent season feels a little lacking, if the thought of another disappointing Christmas makes you want to crawl back in bed, or if on the other hand you love this season so much that you feel depressed when it’s over, your feelings are valid.

Those feelings, too, point to the fullness of the Reign of Godwhen we only get glimpses on this side of life. Let these feelings remind you that we are part of a bigger story that hasn’t ended yet.God promises restoration—that our “snappy happy ever after” will come one day.

Receive this “Blessing for Our Part in the Bigger Story” from Kate Bowler:

Blessed are we,

gathered already into the plot,

part of the epic story you have been writing

from long before we were ever born.

Thank you that we are not separated

into lives of loneliness

but joined together as those

who were loved into being.

We are made for meaning and a purpose

that only our days can breathe into action.

Pull us closer to the bigger story that

reminds us

that our ordinary lives

are the stuff of eternity.

You fitted each of our days

for small efforts and endless attempts

to pick ourselves up again.

In our triumphs and embarrassments.

we need to be told again (sigh)

that we are not just everyday problems.

We are a story of extraordinary love.

Sermon on Luke 1:57-80

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Our Advent theme this year is A Weary World Rejoices, a line from the beloved Christmas carol “O Holy Night,” because there is a lot of weariness in the world, even after almost a full year of focusing on Sabbath in this congregation.

Each week, we’ll ponder one of God’s promises.This week is the promise of compassion.

During this season, we understandably focus on Jesus’ birth and the journeys of Mary and Joseph as they prepare to welcome their new heavenly family member.

But Elizabeth and Zechariah’s journeys are remarkable as well. And for them, probably equally as overwhelming.

Mary’s cousin Elizabeth hadn’t been able to have children until her husband, Zechariah, who was a priest, was visited by a divine messenger. He apparently doubted the angel, who told him that because of his lack of trust he wouldn’t be able to speak until the child was born.

No one’s life was going as expected. Elizabeth and Zechariah hadn’t had a baby when they expected, and now when they were at the point where Zechariah was wondering how this was physically possible—an angel comes with a baby announcement!

And Mary and Joseph certainly weren’t expecting to raise the Child of God before they were even married.

Their lives were not going the way they expected.

But, despite the challenges these new futures held, God’s vision for them was greater and more wonderful than they had expected.

Mary visited Elizabeth, whose baby jumped for joy inside her. And Mary was inspired to sing what has become known as the Magnificat—a song magnifying God. We’ll take a closer look at that two weeks from now.

But there’s a song for today, too. Our reading picks up when baby John was born. Suddenly, Zechariah was able to speak again, and not only did he speak: he sang! He joined the ranks of Hannah, Miriam, Mary, and later Simeon to sing God’s praise in a moment of joy, wonder, and trust in God’s promises.

Though the lives of the people in these stories were not going as planned, God was creating a future more wonderful than they dreamed. God became human in Jesus to bring compassion to the world.

Of course, we know that Jesus’ life and death included pain and humiliation. The fulfillment of God’s promises still involved suffering.

Our lives often go in directions we don’t expect, like the people in our stories, andit’s not always in ways that make us want to sing God’s praises.

We experience loss, pain, grief, confusion, and any number of other forms of suffering. Sometimes our lives change in an instant. Sometimes it’s a slow fade until we hardly recognize ourselves. Sometimes it feels like suffering is all around us.

But that’s what God’s promises are about. God promises compassion.

The word “compassion” means “suffering with.” When we talk of Christ’s Passion, we’re remembering that God loves us so much that God became human in Jesus to live alongside us in the world’s suffering. He endured the cross, suffering with all humanity and experiencing all the pain this world contains.

When God promises compassion, God promises to suffer with us. God is with us whatever our circumstances, holding us, weeping with us, and never abandoning us.

Advent is the anticipation of God’s compassion revealing itself through Emmanuel, God with us.

We can hold onto God’s promise of compassion, because God was willing to become one of us to experience all of life’s joys and suffering alongside us. God knows the full breadth of human experience and loves us in it and through it. And in the fullness of the Reign of God, there will be no more suffering—only complete union with God forever.

In the meantime, we can let that compassion fill us and overflow into the world around us as we do our best to love our neighbors as God loves us, opening our arms to the world.

Receive this “Blessing for Open Arms” from Kate Bowler:

Blessed are you with open arms

to welcome God this Advent,

willing to invite its promises

into the center of your longing.

Blessed are you,

even now in the waiting.

Open to receiving what is beautiful

though clothed in such precarity.

Blessed are you,

agreeing to stand still long enough

to let your eyes adjust to the darkness

until the starlight begins to appear,

the dawning of God’s promises.

In that gentle light,

find a corner of your heart

where hope can stay protected.

A place from which we can

nurture a little gratitude,

a little compassion,

enough to go around.

Some for God and some for yourself.

And some for the next unsuspecting

soul that wanders into your light.

Sermon on Luke 21:25-36

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Happy New Church Year!

The cycle of our liturgical year starts over again today.

And since Advent starts on December 1 this year, all the Advent calendars at the store are accurate this season, which makes the part of me that finds symmetry satisfying very happy.

But the truth is, even after almost a full year of focusing on Sabbath in this congregation, there is still a lot of weariness in the world. Can you feel it?

The world feels heavy. And December is one of the busiest months of the year for many of us, even amid (and maybe because of) the joys of the season.

So, our Advent theme this year is A Weary World Rejoices, a line from the beloved Christmas carol “O Holy Night.”

Each week, we’ll ponder one of God’s promises.

This week is the promise of truth.

And one truth is that life is hard.

Jeremiah was prophesying to people who were facing hard circumstances.

The Babylonians had taken many of God’s people into exile. They had destroyed Jerusalem, including the Temple. It must have felt like the end of the world.

And Jeremiah himself was writing from prison, because he was speaking the truth God had given him.

Life was hard. Jeremiah was no stranger to that.

And there’s plenty of harsh and challenging words in the book of Jeremiah.

But still, he spoke words of hope, too. Our reading today’s full of hope.

It was hard at that time, but the days were surely coming.

The days were surely coming when God would fulfill God’s promises.

God had promised that David’s lineage would rule God’s people forever.

The Babylonian Captivity seemed to break that promise.

But the days were surely coming when the line of David that seemed to be dead would indeed continue—a branch would grow from what seemed like a dead stump.

God had not abandoned God’s people.

Exile would not be forever.

Their home would be restored, ruled by a just and righteous leader—the Messiah.

That’s why there aregenealogies in the Gospels of both Matthew and Luke. The lists of names can feel a little boring to read, but both draw a line from Jesus back to David. They affirm that God keeps God’s promises.

One truth may be that life is hard, but another is that God keeps God’s promises. And God promised faithfulness to God’s people.

God promised the Messiah and gave humanity Jesus in another difficult time for God’s people.

Their land was occupied by the Romans, there was a crushing amount of poverty, the threat of violence was everywhere, and in a few decades, the Temple would be destroyed again.

God sent Jeremiah to tell the truth when all hope seemed lost.

And God sent Jesus to tell the truth at another point when all hope seemed lost.

But lost hope isn’t relegated to the past.

There’s still war. There’s still violence. There are natural and human-caused disasters.

People get diagnosed with terminal illnesses.

There’s loneliness, isolation, depression, and so much need in so many different areas.

We served a staggering 199 households at our pantry on Wednesday. It’s of course a joy to serve, but it also indicates great need in our local community.

That’s to say nothing of global poverty.

Our world is not as it should be. God’s people (everybody) are facing hard circumstances.

It’s still true today that life is hard.

And still, the days are surely coming.

In Advent, we not only remember the promise of Jesus’ birth, but the promise of his return.

The days are surely coming when he will come again in power and glory, and the Reign of God will be complete.

He shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.

God keeps God’s promises.

It’s true that there is pain now. And it’s true that God will make it right in the end.

There’s a saying attributed to many people that says, “everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.”

There are tragic, cruel, and heart-breaking circumstances in this life. They can feel like the end of the world.

But they are not the end of the story.

Only God says when the story ends. And even as the story of pain, sorrow, and death ends, a new, eternal story of peace, joy, and love will begin.

Advent offers us the permission to see the world as it really is while still hoping for a future we can only sometimes glimpse.

One year when I was in college, there were a couple wildfires. It was a very scary, disorienting time. But one day months later, I was walking by a grove of eucalyptus trees in one part of the campus, and even though they had been burned, the trunks were covered in new sprouts—branches growing from what seemed like a dead trunk.

I’m not saying we have to find the silver lining in every hard circumstance. People of faith have to be able to tell the truth about the hard things in life or else we’re minimizing our own and others’ pain. People can see right through that, and it damages our credibility, not to mention that it hurts our neighbor.

We have to be able to tell the truth.

And one truth is that life is hard.

But another truth is that God keeps God’s promises, and God has promised that, as Julian of Norwich wrote, “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

Life is hard, and God gives us hope to cling to during the Advent time of waiting for the fulfillment of God’s promises.

Receive this blessing from Kate Bowler for “Beginning Again in Advent”:

God, could this be the year when we see it?

The goodness that is coming,

like starlight from a distant time?

Could this be the Advent when we sense it?

That the springtime of the soul will one day last forever?

Could this be the Advent when we notice

the inbreaking of your coming promises?

Promises full of blessing:

of truth so clear, so bright

that every shadowy lie must flee away.

of compassion so deep, so strong

that everyone is encircled in its embrace.

of restoration so complete, so beautiful

that there is gladness everywhere.

and of justice so satisfying and so right,

that all will be well.

May this Advent be the new beginning,

as we learn to live by the light

of your coming promises.

Glimpsing the world through tears,

while also seeing something

sacred shining through too.

Our Truth. Our Light.

Our Promise incarnate.

Amen.