No one likes change. Actually, we don’t mind change. It’s loss we dislike. People change things about their lives everyday. They look forward to it. They celebrate it. They get married. They have children. They get a new job or a new house. What we fear is loss. We look forward to getting married, but not the change in old friendships. We look forward to a new home, but we miss all the familiar things about our old one. We look forward to the birth of a child, but not the loss of sleep.

         Lately we are troubled by the changes we see around us. We say that we don’t like change but perhaps we are really suffering loss. The way to get through loss is not to deny it or to pretend that it can be avoided. We bear our losses when we see the benefits of change. The new home is in a better location, or it is more affordable. The new marriage is work, but it is a more rewarding relationship than older friendships. The work of parenting is very difficult, but children are a joy and a blessing.

         Change is often not something we choose. All that we can control is how we respond to the changes that happen around and to us. The economy goes bad, or we get a diagnosis of an illness. There is no choice to go back to a time when things were not so bad. We only have a choice to live the best way we know how or to give up to whatever happens. At the most basic level we are faced with the choice to live or to die.

         This Sunday we remember the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountaintop. We remember who Jesus is. We also remember the journey of Jesus from the beginning of his story to its end. There is a glorious vision and there are limits placed upon the glorious vision. Peter wants to set up tents. There will be no pause on the mountaintop. As soon as the vision vanishes, Jesus takes the disciples down the mountain, and reminds them of his path to Jerusalem where he will die before he will be raised.

         Our faith is not static. Our God is sure and dependable. The belief statements of our creed are absolutely firm and unchanging. The promises of God will certainly be fulfilled. However, we will not remain the same. We may prefer to have a self-understanding that is unchanged, but God seeks more for us. We may prefer to have a spiritual community that stays the same as we have always remembered it, but God knows we need people around us who are growing as we are growing in our faith. It would be nice if this church could be a haven from all the confusing changes we see in the world. Instead, God wants our community to equip us to face the changes that trouble us. God would have us guide and support each other through the troubles of life.

         Elijah is about to depart and Elisha, his disciple and spiritual son is following him. The story is a little hard to follow, but they travel in stages from Gilgal to Bethel to Jericho and finally to the Jordan River. They are following the path the people of Israel took as they entered into the Promised Land. The company of prophets, the official religious leaders, supply the facts about what will happen. “You master is going to leave you.” They know the facts but they have no hope. Elisha knows that things will change, but he hopes for a double portion of Elijah’s spirit – that double portion means the blessing of the first-born son. When Elisha sees the vision, it is proof that he will continue the work given to Elijah. His master is gone, but God’s work continues.

         Jesus is transfigured before the disciples. They are terrified. Moses and Elijah are talking with Jesus. Is this everything they hoped for? Peter suggests they preserve the moment. They hear a voice. “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”

         No more visions. No more clouds of glory. No conversations with the great prophets. Now they only have the flesh and blood Jesus with his difficult words and troubling suggestion that he might have to die. Why can’t we stay in that great place on the mountaintop? Why can’t our faith give easy answers that are easy to live up to? Why does it have to be so difficult?

         Our faith is not based on ease and comfort. Jesus makes a literal life or death decision. He knows he has to sacrifice himself so that we can live. Every follower of Jesus has to make the same choice. We have to make the hard choices that lead to life. If we don’t we will only die.

         We will soon begin our journey with Jesus through lent. Part of that journey is to examine our hearts and to discern the things in us that must die. We may take on a discipline of giving something up so that we can practice letting go of things. We may take on a discipline to learn to add good things to our lives. As we journey together as a congregation we will be learning how to live with the changes all around us. We will be well aware of the things that are dead or passing away. We will also need to look for signs of life.

         We have not been brought to this place to perish on the edge of a vision. We have traveled here to see what new thing God can do. We may no longer be a great cultural or civic center for the community of New Milford – but we can be a faithful congregation. People no longer come here because of our prestige, but now it may be easier to be a community without boundaries and expectations. We really can invite anyone. It no longer matters how we are dressed or whom we know – we’re all on the journey together.

         We may be counting our pennies, but maybe we can also discover gifts in our community that have not been valued. Every member has wisdom and every soul has gifts to offer. We can’t do things the same way anymore, but now we have the freedom to create a way that works for us.

         The most difficult part of this is that we don’t yet see the end. We are in good company. The disciples had no idea where Jesus was leading them. The path to new life is not clear, but we know we will get there. That’s all we know for now. Until then, we live in hope that the God who has stood with us in all things will guide us to the end.

          When I was first ordained, I didn’t know how to dress for gatherings of clergy. I remember that I was always wearing a suit or jacket when everyone else seemed to be in jeans and sweaters. When I thought I’d dress comfortably, everyone else was dressed in suits. It’s easier now. Our own bishops rarely dress formally, except for visitations or funerals. My past confusion about dress code reminds me how we often negotiate in our head and in our actions what we think is most appropriate for an occasion.

         I thought about this when I reflected on Naaman, and his visit to Elisha. He brings along with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold and ten sets of garments. What do you wear to a healing? What is the appropriate hostess gift?

         Naaman is suffering from leprosy. In his day this could have been any skin disorder, but the terrible thing about leprosy in that day was that it made people outcasts. They could no longer participate in community, but had to live outside and depend upon the charity of others. Naaman was a general of Aram. The king of Aram needed his general, so he sought a cure. A slave girl from Israel suggested he go to Elisha the prophet in Israel. Naaman goes to the king of Israel seeking a cure, and carrying a large retinue of gift bearers. The king of Israel is terrified. What can he do for this man, no matter how much gold he brings?

         Everyone thought that they were doing the appropriate thing. They all thought that they knew how everything works. Naaman thinks that all he has to do is bring enough money and the king of Israel will produce a cure. The king of Israel thinks that Naaman and the king of Aram must be looking for a fight because he knows this is an impossible request. No one knows how God works.

         Elisha sends word to the king – not to worry, I know what to do. He tells Naaman to wash in the Jordan River seven times and he’ll be cured. Naaman is appalled. That muddy river! Aren’t there better rivers in Damascus? Why did I come all this way? You’d think for the price I’m offering the holy man would at least jump up and down or wave his hands and say some magic words! A levelheaded servant suggests to Naaman that if the prophet had suggested something more difficult, he would have done it – so why not give it a try. Naaman bathes and his skin is made clean. God does not work the way we suppose. There is no need to impress God or pay God. God heals because God is merciful, and God’s mercy cannot be bought or sold.

         A leper walks right up to Jesus and declares, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” The man shows faith not only in his words but also in his actions. He crosses a lot of barriers that everyone else takes for granted. Everyone knows that lepers keep to the outskirts of town. Everyone knows that lepers aren’t supposed to approach anyone, for fear of contagion. Everyone knows that leprosy is a sign of God’s disfavor – they must have done something to deserve their illness. Everyone knows that he should not dare to approach a holy man.

         Jesus also crosses an unspoken barrier. He acknowledges the man and even touches him. I do choose. Be made clean! The man is cured instantly. No need to even bathe once in the Jordan! In touching him, Jesus himself becomes ritually unclean. Perhaps this is why he tells the man to go quietly to the priests and get declared legally clean. Perhaps Jesus wants the man to be restored to community. Maybe Jesus just doesn’t want the attention. Maybe he doesn’t want people to get the wrong idea about who he is.

         The result of the healing of the leper is that Jesus becomes famous and he has difficulty traveling because everyone wants to see him. Isn’t that a good problem to have? Doesn’t Jesus want people to come and hear his message? That’s the way it works, right? Jesus is merciful, and Jesus is proclaiming a message of freedom and new life, but not a message of miracles. Jesus hasn’t come to do miracles. He has come to offer the complete miracle we all need. Jesus has come to transform hearts and to give us all new life.

         The healing of the leper shows how far Jesus is willing to go. He crosses over all of our barriers and he rejects all of the accepted ways of doing things. It is not that Jesus is some sort of iconoclast who wants to destroy society. Jesus wants to do more than to replace the institutions and patterns that have outlived their usefulness. Jesus is offering an entirely new way of living. He is offering new life, eternal life. He is doing more than healing our bodies. He is giving us new hearts.

         The question for us is what do we have to give up that we know to be true? We assume that we know how everything works. We develop ways of working together that we know will work. We relate to the surrounding community in the way we always have. It’s time we re-examined whether or not we are following God’s way.

         I’m not saying that the old ways of doing things are wrong simply because they are old. We are blessed with many traditions that give us wisdom and sense that we are connected with generations of faithful people. Our faith is not some monolithic objective thing that we have to carry or work around. Our faith is a living relationship with God. We have to constantly work to deepen and enlarge our faith. We have to look to see the new things God is doing – in us and around us.

         Paul uses the image of a track meet. To win the race we have to work. The work is not to copy the challenges of the past. Our work is to follow God faithfully in this moment. We don’t really “win” as if we have defeated someone else. We are training to seek the path God has given us and we are training to follow to the best of our abilities.

         It’s easier to have customs and traditions that are comfortable. God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. God calls us to live. As we are ready to give up those things that no longer give us life, we are closer to following more faithfully the path that leads to real life.

          Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard? Who sits above the circle of the earth and looks at us as if we were grasshoppers? Who stretched out the heavens like a tent so we could live under it? Who thinks nothing of princes and rulers (for they come and go like weeds)? Who are we compared to God?

         Do you feel insignificant yet? Who created every person who ever lived and gave them a name? How can we say that God has forgotten us or that God doesn’t care what happens to us? God doesn’t grow tired or forgetful. In truth, God gives strength. Our strength fails. Even the youngest and strongest of us will tire eventually.

         “But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

         they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

         they shall run and not be weary,

         they shall walk and not faint.”

         The Psalm reminds us that God is powerful and ready to strengthen us. The first verse calls us to praise God. The next four verses describe God’s power. God restores the people of God and heals the broken. God creates the stars and there is no limit to God’s power and wisdom. Verse six reminds us that God lifts up the lowly and casts down the wicked. Verse seven repeats the pattern and calls us to praise God. Verses eight through eleven remind us again of God’s power. God creates the heavens and the rain and the grass and plants. God feeds us, and the animals. God is not impressed by our symbols of power. In verse twelve we are reminded that God is pleased by those who fear God; that is, those who have proper respect and reverence for God. God loves those who seek to be in right relationship with God.

         We already know all this. We know that God created the world. We know that God is in control. Why bring it up? We forget it. We can repeat the Nicene Creed and the Lord’s Prayer and then walk out the door of the church and live as if we stop believing it at the door. Some of this is the evidence we see around us. If God is in control, then why is everything so bad? Why doesn’t God fix it or make it better? Is this really a question about God’s power? Or is it a question about our response? Maybe things are bad because God is calling us to fix it.

         Maybe things are bad, not because God is neglectful or busy elsewhere. Maybe things are bad because we’ve held onto things that are precious to us. Maybe we’ve been too concerned about keeping things the way we like them instead of seeking what God wants for us. God calls us to live faithfully. God invites us to enter into God’s work of reconciling the world. Maybe that calling is very different from the programs we grew up with. Maybe the world is hurting in different ways and our faithful response is to try something new.

         The apostle Paul had many difficulties with the church in Corinth. They were so proud of themselves. They thought they had all the answers. The discussion Paul is working through is their attitude towards eating food sacrificed to idols. Food would be brought as offerings to pagan temples and those temples would sell the food to get money. The Christians in Corinth knew there were no real pagan gods, so they bought the food and ate it. Food is food, and it’s not good or bad. Paul is reminding them to respect the consciences of new converts who might be offended. He reminds them that he has many privileges as an apostle. He doesn’t insist on what he is due. Instead, he is always thinking about how he can reach others with the good news. He doesn’t rest on his credentials, but he submits himself to whatever is needed so he can reach different people. In other words, it’s more important to share the good news than it is to be right. It’s more important to help people to be reconciled with God than it is to get people to respect his position as an apostle.

         We are not apostles. We are Episcopalians. We have a long and proud tradition. We have beautiful gifts of liturgy and music. We have a marvelous building. We have a long tradition in this place. None of this is more important than how we help people become reconciled with God. Perhaps the beauty of what we do will draw people in. Maybe our openness and tolerance of others will help people feel safe. However, our goal is not to create more Episcopalians (nice as that may be.) Our calling is to draw people to God and trust that God will inspire and empower them to go out into the world and share the good news.

         Jesus enters Peter’s house in the little village of Capernaum. He heals Peter’s mother-in-law – so well that she can serve them. The whole village gathers in the house and crowds around the door. Jesus teaches and heals the sick and demon possessed. What a great day! Let’s do it again! In the morning, the disciples are looking for Jesus to keep up all the great stuff that they were doing. Then Jesus tells them the hard news. He has to go to other villages. The good news isn’t just for one place. That means they have to travel to strange and different places. They can’t preserve what is comfortable and what is easy.

         Our future is unknown and difficult. We have much work to preserve our community in this place in this day. Maybe the place we will find the strength is in knowing that we are not simply preserving a building for as long as we can. We are always a people called to share in God’s work of reconciliation. Whether the roof leaks or the boiler quits or the budget is a challenge – or not – we will always be invited to enter into the work of sharing God’s love to anyone who will listen.

         None of us can say what the future will hold for us. If we remain faithful to out first calling as bearers of good news, we will find God’s strength to sustain us – and we will be able to bear whatever sacrifice we are called to make because we will be doing God’s work.

          When we think about the prophet Jonah, what do we remember? We remember the whale (or the big fish.) We reduce the story into what we think is a simple children’s story. Why we think that a story about someone being swallowed by a fish is comforting to children is another issue. What we often forget is why the whale swallows Jonah in the first place. He was going the wrong way.

         The story of Jonah is the story of a racist, who does God’s will despite himself. When God first commanded Jonah to prophecy to the Ninevites, he got on a ship going the opposite direction. He didn’t want to proclaim God’s word to the Ninevites. Jonah knew that if he warned the Ninevites that God would destroy them, there was a chance that they would repent and God would forgive them. Jonah was holding out for destruction. So Jonah is swallowed by a whale and spit up on the shore, and he travels into the city and proclaims a message five words long in Hebrew. “Forty days Nineveh is destroyed!” I’m sure he proclaimed that hopeful message with great zeal. Then Jonah waited on a hillside under the shade of a tree, for the destruction of the people he hated.

         God has bigger plans than we imagine. The people of Nineveh took the message to heart. King and peasant all fasted and wore sackcloth and ashes. God saw that they had a change of heart and spared them all. Jonah was upset and the tree that gave him shade had withered in the night. He was so upset about the tree that he asked God to kill him. Life was not worth living. God points out to Jonah in the closing words of the book, “You care for a tree that grew up in a night and died overnight. Should not I be concerned about this great city full of people who do not know their right hand from their left?”

         There is a great message here about how God has a larger heart than we imagine. Many of the barriers and limits that constrain us are of our own making. There is also a reminder that it is God who has the power to transform hearts. We often think in absolutes and deny the possibility of new life. We think nothing will ever change. We despair that we can be any different. We blame others for the problems of our lives – politicians, bankers, foreigners, Ninevites! – and fail to see that God can overcome anything – even us.

         We think of miracles as stories that are preserved in old books. They are things that happened long ago, in a different age and time. We remember little snippets and give them to children like old broken things that we can’t use anymore – but they might amuse the children. The thing about miracles is that they are rarely what people think that they want. Whenever we are reminded of a miracle, the miracle is always about how God has created something new that is unexpected.

         God is always drawing people into new life and deep love. We are so stressed out and worried that we are tempted to reduce the world around us into simple practical rules of thumb. “You get what you pay for.” “The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.” “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” We have begun to believe certain truths about the church. We think we have to be a mega church in order to gather members. We think we have to have fabulous programs in order to be a good church. We fear that we can’t afford to be the church. Yet the church is not about money or market forces. We are gathered here to enter into the work of God of drawing the whole world to God.

         We hear the story of the call of the disciples and we may think that it has little to do with us. It is very impressive that these fishermen left everything to follow Jesus. But they are apostles after all. Jesus himself invited them. How could they say no?

         The call of the disciples is not a story of extraordinary people with heroic willpower. The call of the disciples is a story about ordinary people who accept an invitation into something new. The fishermen left their familiar world and entered into God’s work or restoring the world. Along the way, they had to face their old preconceptions about how the world was supposed to work. They questioned Jesus’ teaching. They were troubled by some of the people who wanted to follow Jesus too. They were confused and afraid and fled when things got tough. After the resurrection, it took some time for them to appreciate what God had done and how they would live new life. The rest of the New Testament is the continuing story about how the people of God continued to enter into the work of God.

         Today we are invited to participate in the work of reconciling the world. It doesn’t matter what we have or who we are. God has called us and God loves us. God wants us to share this love with everyone. The question we have to ask is how will we do this today? I think all our attempts to repair or restore the church we knew can be empty distractions. We are worried about preserving something that had once been life giving to us. Today we must discover what is life giving today. We have to be ready to drop our familiar fishing gear and pick up the new tools God is giving us. We need to look beyond our familiar boundaries and look to the horizon of God’s love.

         We are worried that we cannot hold together the church of the past. This is a good place to be. Now we have nothing to lose as we enter into God’s work.

           My son was so proud to get his first job, and he was proud to get his first paycheck. When he looked at the final amount he was upset. “What’s with all these taxes?” Welcome to the life of responsible adulthood! It’s great to be a grown up. We have power to do things and we have responsibilities. As Christians we are called into this community to do be God’s people. We find blessing and joy. We also have a lot of work to do. Some of it we’d rather not do but we must anyway.

         We quickly hear the apostle Paul remind the Corinthians of this very thing. They were wise and blessed with resources. They knew they had found true freedom in their faith. Paul reminds them that their freedom was not permission to do anything at all. They had made a choice to leave one sort of life but they had also bound themselves to one another and to God in a new way. Although they were free, they were also responsible for each other. They were also committed to living a new life, even if they were free to return to old ways.

         Samuel was bound to the service of God by his mother Hannah, as an act of thanksgiving when she was finally blessed with a child. He lived in dark times. The temple was still a tent. The people lacked deep faith. The leaders were weak and ineffective. No one had heard the voice of God for some time. In the literal darkness, God calls to Samuel. At first, he thinks the old blind priest Eli is calling him. Eli has the wisdom to have Samuel respond and to listen to what God is saying. Samuel did not ask for the voice of God or even understand it. All he did was to allow himself to be open to what God might offer.

         Philip follows Jesus and begins to be inspired by what he hears. He tells Nathanael about a teacher who might be the fulfillment of all their hope. Nathanael wonders, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip brings him to Jesus and Jesus tells him he saw him under a fig tree. Nathanael is amazed at this miracle of foresight and heaps praise on Jesus. Jesus tells Nathanael he will see greater things than these. There’s a little play on names here. Nathanael is an Israelite in whom there is no guile. The person Israel, who was Jacob, got through life always trying to trick the people around him. It is because of his deceit that Jacob had to flee his brother. In the wilderness, he slept with his head on a stone and had a vision of angels ascending and descending a ladder into heaven. Nathanael, the deceit-less son of Jacob will have greater visions than his ancestor. He will see the new life offered by Jesus.

         We have the same blessing. We have seen new life. We have tasted the love of God. It has made a great difference to each of us here today. If it is such good news, then why are we broke? Why is our sanctuary empty?

         We are not the first people to live through dark times. We are surrounded by a culture that has lost faith, or pays far less attention to using faith to determine behavior. We may wonder at our future. What will be our place in the New Milford of tomorrow? What do we have to offer? Our message does not seem to be very popular. We are not very entertaining. If we have anything to offer, it is only the difference our faith makes in our life.

         We are being called to give up some of our illusions about what mature faith is like. When my son got his first paycheck, he realized that the power of maturity (of earning pay and having money) is balanced by the responsibilities of maturity. The church does not exist to please us or to make us feel good. We have been given good news in order to be transformed into new people and to go out into the world and offer God’s love to everyone who needs it. Our calling is a wonderful blessing. We rediscover our place with God. We are bound to other people of faith in God’s work of restoring the world.

         It is not easy work. The freedom and blessing we get also compels us to responsibility. We are called to receive God’s blessing by faith and we are called to follow Jesus by faith. We have to have courage to look beyond our present circumstances and not let our troubles define us. We are not the church that used to have an endowment. We are heirs of the kingdom of God. We are not the church that used to have many members. We are people called to proclaim good news, no matter how many people listen. We are not old and tired. We are born again. We have new life.

         We are called by God for God’s purpose. If we really believe that God has called us here, then we must be ready to let go of our own demands of God. You may think that you came here this morning to hear wonderful music, or to listen to a well-crafted sermon, or to bring your children to Sunday school. The real reason you are here is because God reaches out in love to you, to draw you closer and to send you out with a job to reconcile the world.

         The worship we do together, the singing and praying, the teaching and the encouragement all work together to make us a community of reconcilers. Much of our most difficult work is to simply learn how to be reconciled with each other. We have to learn what it means to love the people who are closest to us. We have to learn how to love people with whom we disagree. We are stretched to love people who are strangers to us and who are sick or in need. The work of reconciliation takes us out of ourselves and our own worries and our own needs. Maybe this is what will save us. If we can stop worrying about the budget or our kids or our fears – and if we can invest our lives in the transformation of the world then we will see the vision that Jesus promises us.

          During Advent, a little group of us have been studying “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens as part of a bible study. Things got busy this week and we didn’t have time for our final session, but those of us who had a chance to talk about it compared some thoughts about how the story ends. Ebenezer Scrooge is transformed by the visit of three spirits and he is a new man. In our memories of the story, there was much dancing and celebration about his conversion. The original story is brief. Scrooge buys a goose for the Cratchit family and has dinner with his nephew. That’s about it. In our memories we remember him dancing around and buying presents and hanging around the Cratchit household.

         Perhaps our memories of Ebenezer Scrooge are embellished by numerous movie and television adaptations. For Dickens, a transformed life was enough to write about. We seem to need song and dance and the giving of piles of presents. The celebration of Christmas on only one day and mostly consisting of one meal seems to us a little sparse.

         It was not always been so even for us. The grand season we know today has only been true for us after World War II. Only a few generations ago, Christmas was mostly a single day affair. Going back a few more generations, Christmas was subdued and further back to colonial days – Christmas was outlawed as a bunch of catholic nonsense. (You could be fined five shillings for making merry!)

         Tales of Santa Claus, and Rudolf the Red-nosed reindeer enlarge our Christmas. We have the transformation of Ebenezer Scrooge and also the Grinch. We remember Charlie Brown and Frosty the Snowman. We have a rich repertoire of tales about giving and about sacrifice. We hear morals about the true meaning of Christmas and think we are preserving something valuable and ancient. They are like the well-preserved ornaments we take down from our attic. In our minds they are old and traditional, handed down from our parents. In reality, they were bought at some five and dime and hung on a tree a generation or two ago and we are only preserving what we’ve been given.

         I enjoy all the trappings of the Christmas we celebrate today. I love the carols and the decorations. I like buying presents for those I love and I love gathering as a family and taking stock of all our blessings. I also know that as good as all of this is, in our rush and hurry to celebrate, not much of what we do intentionally points to God.

         There was a time before Charlie Brown and the Grinch who could steal Christmas. There was a time before Christmas trees and Christmas lights. There was a time before our winter celebration of gift giving and feasting. There was a time before this winter gathering of family around the hearth in the darkest days of the year. There was a time when the only gift that mattered was the one that God would give us.

         The deep truth of this day is that God has come to help us when we most need help. We’d like to think our present difficulties are an aberration. We want to get back to days of prosperity and plenty and we assume those days are normal. God knows that we are always hurting and always suffering. We are always in some sort of want. In truth we need God. We will find no peace or contentment without God. As hard as we try, we keep drifting from the right path and we become prisoners to our own selfishness and fear. The good news is that God comes to us when we deserve it least.

         Two thousand years ago, God entered human existence in a poor village in the middle of nowhere. In doing so, God proclaims that no poor village is ever unimportant ever again. The birth of Jesus proclaims that God is everywhere we find ourselves. God is now with us. God is in every human struggle and in every human want. The baby Jesus feels what we feel and needs what we need and depends upon the love and care of other human hands.

         The Christmas story is a human story. We can’t tell it without remembering what God has done for us. We can’t tell it unless we fit it into the lives we live right now. Jesus was born in Bethlehem, but we have heard the good news wherever we have heard it – in our homes, on television, or through Ebenezer Scrooge.

         I don’t believe we need to rescue Christmas from commercialization. I say we should sing every song and tell every story. Every blinking light and every wrapped present tells a facet of the story of God’s love for us and God’s generosity to us. If we must be careful about anything, it would be to remember why God has been so generous. God wants to change us. God wants us to be transformed people, singing and dancing like a transformed Scrooge because we have heard good news.

         Christmas isn’t about the size or beauty of our tree, or the abundance of our presents. Christmas is about the gift of Jesus. Jesus is given to make us into new people. So instead of asking one another, “What did you get for Christmas?” Perhaps we should be asking, “How are you different this Christmas?”

           We are about to celebrate a day of generosity. We will gather and open presents which are wrapped with paper and maybe a little anxiety? We think, “Will they like what I bought? Did I get the right size?” I know that I have reached the age when I am a difficult person to buy a present for. I don’t really need anything. I tell my children that their mother and I would be happy for a photograph with all of them together. “No, no,” they say, “that’s much too small.” Then again, what’s more important to a mother than her children?

         We often have to overcome our needs in giving the gift to offer what is truly desired by the one who receives. Part of the stress of the holidays is all the emotional strings we attach to our attempts at generosity. If we get it right, we strengthen those relationships that are important to us. If we try too hard to control the outcome of our offerings and gatherings, we may be disappointed.

         King David was very grateful for all that God had done for him. After a long life where God had stood by him in good times and hard times, David thinks that it is a shame that God is worshipped in a tent while he lives in the comfort of a palace. He decides to build God a temple – a fitting place to worship and glorify God.

         God tells the prophet Nathan to set aside this good intention. Does God need a roof? Or did God need anything better than a tent when God defeated the Egyptians or wandered with the people in the wilderness? The blessings that God has given David are not dependent on David’s good intentions. All along it has been God’s generosity that has helped King David and the people to succeed and flourish. David wants to build a temple, but God wants to build something else. God will build a house, but it will be the people of God. The house God will build is an undying dynasty of a holy people, who worship God more fittingly than any other people in any other place – no matter how magnificent their temple.

         We are surrounded by symbols that remind us of our blessings. We are apt to learn the wrong lesson. We are tempted to buy wonderful gifts and to try and produce a celebration that matches what God has given us. We want to show our gratitude, but God desires a different path. God wants us to acknowledge what has been given and live the life that is offered. It sounds simple, but it is much more difficult.

         God does not promise a place of ease without a journey of difficulty. God does not promise plenty until we have felt keenly the want of the poor. Mary gives us a wonderful hymn of praise that reminds us how God is generous and to whom God is generous. God has mercy on those who depend upon God, and God scatters the proud. The mighty are cast down and the lowly are lifted up. The hungry are filled and the rich are sent away empty. This is good news for those who suffer and for those who are powerless. It is bad news for the powerful and the satisfied.

         Perhaps this is good news for us. We’ve got our share of troubles. Things are not turning out the way we’d like. Maybe the news we need to remember that when things are at their worse, it is the time that God can act. If we can let go of the gift we would give, maybe we can have room for the gift God desires to give us.

         Mary is our model for this. The angel comes to her and says to her, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” (Then follows one of the great understatements in scripture, “But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” I’ll bet she did!) God didn’t ask her to give anything or do anything. The angel simply announces what God will do, and the implications of this unexpected generosity. Mary simply accepts what God offers. This is no easy thing – especially for Mary at that time and in that place. We are offered similar gifts from God, perhaps not as unique, but still on God’s terms and not our own.

         This may be our secret blessing this season. We want to be in a place where we can give and be generous. There’s nothing wrong with that. But maybe we don’t have to be disappointed when we find ourselves in a place of want and difficulty. Maybe God desires to give us something unexpected. Maybe we will find blessing in abandoning all our illusions of power and control. Maybe we can give up our dream for this beautiful temple and begin to embrace God’s desire to make us holy people.

         What we need is the courage of Mary: to accept God’s gifts on God’s terms, and let God bless us in the way that will give us life.

           Who asked John the Baptist to show up? He seems like an interruption, maybe even an embarrassment to the established religious people – much like you and I might feel when we see some wide-eyed street preacher yelling out for attention. The religious leaders come to John and ask him to explain himself. He doesn’t fit the usual models of ministry. He’s not even there for himself. He is pointing to another. He is pointing to an unexpected future.

         We’re passing through a busy period in our church calendar. There’s a lot to do and to prepare for. Christmas is near. We have to decorate the church and prepare for a concert and a pageant. We have family gatherings to attend and presents to buy and wrap. These extra activities come when we also try to preserve traditions that give our lives meaning. In my house we have the same angel tree top ornament we’ve had for years. It must be placed on the tree last of all, when everything else is decorated. We bake the same cookies. We sing the same carols. With all this energy going into the preservation of tradition, it’s difficult to dream about what might be new.

         Maybe we avoid thinking about the new because most of what has gone on so recently is so bad. Who wants to dwell on the economy or our lack of resources? Who wants to think about war, or global warming, or fractious political debate (the Iowa caucuses are just around the corner!)? More important to us, who has time or energy to imagine how we will go on with the big changes in our budget for next year?

         What John promises isn’t exactly comfort. We know the story of Christmas and we are prepared for the familiar retelling. John talks about change. The authorities challenge him because he advocates a radical departure from the familiar. “I’m not who you expected”, he says, “and the one you think you expect is much different than you imagine.” His words are warnings. “Repent now! While you still have a chance!” He calls the leaders the children of snakes. He doesn’t promise ease and victory. He promises a winnowing and that the messiah will baptize with fire.

         John the Baptist sounds more like the crazy preacher who was telling us the world would end a few months ago. This time of year we carry no sense of dread (except maybe about distant family we might have to put up with.) This is a season of hope and celebration for us. John the Baptist points to a very different hope. We are not waiting for the perfect tree or the best meal. We are not searching for the perfect gift. John is preparing us for our salvation. This is more than the completion of all our aspirations. God wants to give us more than a solution to our current problems. The promise given to us is new life. We are promised an end to sin and the transformation of our lives.

         This is an entirely different thing to prepare for. Most of what we unconsciously take on during these days is likely to keep us from being prepared for this very thing. Our nerves are frayed and we are tired and spent. In contrast, the prophet Isaiah imagines a new city of God. The future city is glorious because of the righteousness of the inhabitants. The blessing is that God will renew the people and not just the wealth or power of a nation.

         Paul writes to the Thessalonians, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” There is nothing in there about rejoicing only when times are good. Paul doesn’t define them by their numbers or their budget or their prestige. God’s will for us is the depth of our faith and the transformation of our lives. He continues, “Do not despise the words of prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil.” Paul does not envision a model that will work for every church in every place. It is their responsibility and ours to discern God’s will for us in this place and at this time. We have to make daily decisions to hold fast to the good and abstain from what is evil. Finally, he blesses them. “May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this.”

         Our calling is difficult but not impossible. God calls us to change us for the better. We are not hoping everything will work out. We don’t know this. The building, the budget, and all the ways that we have defined ourselves are not the end to which we are striving. God desires our transformation into saints. All the rest is a means to that end. So we should not be surprised that we are challenged to live differently. We should not be surprised that we may have to let go of many things that we hold dearly. We are not being punished: we are being changed. God is accomplishing the very thing we need.

         We are called to rejoice. It is no discipline to rejoice in good times. Our souls are transformed if we can rejoice when times are hard. It is easy to give thanks when we have plenty. It is different to find thanksgiving in times of stress. We are learning to trust our money less and our God more. We are learning to seek righteousness instead of popularity. We are seeking the will of God instead of what makes us happy. This is the path towards what we are promised. We are being sanctified entirely. Our spirits and souls and bodies are being kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls us is being faithful. God is working in us.

          When I was a child, I loved this time of year when we wait for Christmas. We always had an advent calendar set up in a sunny spot. Each day we opened a little door or window to show a picture that added to the anticipation. We had a large paper Christmas tree on the wall on which we would hang all the Christmas cards that came in the mail. We would page through the Sears catalog and circle the toys that we hoped Santa would bring us. I would dream about presents and good things to eat. My parents had a tradition of setting up the tree on Christmas Eve after we were asleep (a tradition that did not last long.) In the morning we would tear open the presents. The anticipation of what might be was always greater than what was. There was always something I had hoped for that I didn’t get, or the toy I got wasn’t as good as it looked in the catalog. I look back and reflect that the hope was more powerful than the outcome.

         Today we begin a season of hope. It sounds like a cliché to talk about hope. We are surrounded by advertisements that try to capture our imagination. The media tries to describe our hope for us. The perfect gift or the perfect meal, or the perfect family gathering will give us all the satisfaction we will need this season. Trouble is, we can’t afford what they are selling. The stress and exhaustion we feel is partly caused by our perpetual quest to acquire things that are out of our reach. We might even suspect that those things will only give us a passing contentment until the next thing comes along.

         Hope does not believe something that isn’t true. When we hope, it does not mean that we are wearing rose-colored glasses. Our hope is based in truth. Hope is also more than optimism. We are not just believing the best in all things or making the best of a bad situation. Hope is choosing the future for which we will prepare. We choose this future based on what we believe and on what we know.

         We are living in difficult times, when it might sound impractical to hope. It might sound more reasonable to prepare for bad times. It might be prudent to stock up our resources and weather the storms we see around us. Our God and our traditions all urge us to prepare for something else. We believe that there is more than what we hold in our hands and see with our eyes. We believe that there are more resources at hand than what we have saved in the bank.

         We are choosing the kind of future in which we believe. Do we hope for a future that is up to us alone? Do we believe that all that is possible is what we can make or fix or buy with our own skill and resources? Or do we believe in a future that depends on God? Do we believe that God can make us and mold us and fix us and forgive us?

         When we think about some future day of judgment, we are apt to have fear and regret. We know we will see the truth. We know that all our illusions and failings will be shown for what they are. We will be reminded of how foolish and cowardly we have been. We also know that God forgives us. We also know that God heals us and restores us. I urge you to return again to our lessons this morning. They may sound dire and dangerous at first. They are also reassuring; knowing that God will sweep away every bad thing that keeps us from being our best selves – and God will restore every good thing that draws us to the life we have been made for.

         We know the truth. God has already forgiven and loved us. God has already worked powerfully in our lives (remember how often Isaiah, the psalmist, and Paul reflect on how God has worked in the lives of those who trust in God.) We have been given insight by the Holy Spirit to guide us in our journey. We have seen glimpses of the Holy in our worship, and in the world God has given us. God has been our companion in times of sickness and discouragement in the past. God has given us everything we need to bring us to this place on this day. Since all of this is true, we have the confidence to live in hope. We can choose to prepare for the future God has promised us. We can trust that the God who has been with us in the past will continue to transform us to live through our present challenges.

         It is a relief to give up the illusion that working harder and better and faster will get us anything – except tired and frustrated. Instead, because of our hope, our work is to put ourselves in a place where God can work in us. We need to set aside our plan for the future and seek God’s plan. We need to set aside our fear of what may go wrong and pay more attention to the good that God would have us do. Our hope is not in the gathering of things we think will make us happy. Our hope is in the promises of God to forgive us, to guide us and to restore us.

         In our day we are beset by worries. We live in economic difficulties. Our world is changing and the programs of the past don’t reach the needs of people today. We are faced with higher costs and fewer resources. The short-term future does not look easy. Our hope is not based in passing standards of success. Our hope is based in our God. We are preparing for a future of eternal life, not a season of ease and contentment. We are looking forward to a time of complete restoration, not a leak-proof building or a restored organ. We will do our best with what we have and at the same time we will live as beloved children of God. We are hoping for the coming of our savior. We know that God will transform us and continue to bring us into the work of inviting the world to God.

          There’s something about this story that rubs us the wrong way. We’ve just heard the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus reminds us that blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. In this story, the meek get thrown out into the darkness and the rich seem to get richer. This master who goes away on a journey doesn’t seem to work very hard. He seems to have people who do all the work for him. He reaps where he doesn’t sow and gathers where he doesn’t scatter. He’s the 1%! What can we possibly learn from this cruel and selfish master?

         The rich master goes away and entrusts his wealth to his servants. To one he gives five talents (a talent is a large bar of silver worth a considerable amount of money.) To another servant he gives two talents and to another he gives one. The servants who were given five and two talents invest the money and double it. The servant who was given one talent buries it in a field and keeps it safe but earns no interest. The master deals harshly with him. What gives? I think this story describes business to this day. Any investment firm would do the same with its money managers if they did nothing with the resources entrusted to them.

         The hard word comes when Jesus says, “to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have in abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” This sounds odd coming from the mouth of Jesus. We have come to expect him to stand up for the poor and the weak. He is always removing burdens from the backs of the poor and unsettling the rich in their place of privilege.

         Maybe we have to set aside the story about money and look at what the servant is being chastised for. Nobody lost any money. There’s plenty of money at the end of the story. The servant hid the money because he was afraid of what might happen if it were lost. It never really was his. He would never enjoy what it could buy. It would mean nothing to him for his master to have more or less money. The servant is called worthless and lazy and wicked because of his fear. He is more anxious about failure than he is about success. He is only thinking about what might happen to him, rather than thinking about how to obey his master.

         This is the message of the story for us. It’s not about the money. We are anxious about money. I think this is why Jesus talks about money so much. The parable isn’t about money so much as our anxiety. Jesus is warning us what happens when we let our worries dictate our actions. Instead, we should be letting our faith guide our actions. This story reminds us that the good news is more than comfort. The good news compels us to take risks. In fact, we are led to take risks that are bound to make us uncomfortable. This goes against many of the motivations that draw us to Christian community. We join a church to hear words of comfort. We want to raise our families the right way. We want to hear words that will help us make sense of the confusing world around us. The last thing we want is to find more unease and tension and stress.

         The comfortable lie we tell ourselves is that God loves us and protects us. God wouldn’t do anything to harm us or burden us. The words of Jesus make us sit up! Surely we won’t be cast into the darkness with weeping and gnashing of teeth! In truth God does love us and sometimes God’s love compels us to follow uncomfortable paths and uncertain outcomes.

         The fault of the lazy servant was his unwillingness to risk. He took the safe route with his master’s money. In those days, if you hid something by burying it, you would not be at fault if it were lost. The servant took the safest route he could. He risked nothing of himself (even if it meant a loss or lack of gain by his master.) This is where we have to stretch ourselves a little further. What are we willing to risk of ourselves?

         Many of the sacrifices we make are for others or for our work. We may risk looking foolish to others. We make sacrifices for our children we might not dare for ourselves (but in a way those sacrifices can still be self-serving.)

         Jesus challenges us to think bigger. Jesus challenges us to think about God’s will for the whole world. God wants to reconcile the whole world to God and to reconcile us all to one another. It is a big job. It will take everything we have to give. It was worth everything to Jesus. It was worth everything to the disciples. In this day and at this time we are being called to think about our own commitment to God’s work. What are we willing to risk? What do we have to learn to risk? What are we afraid to lose?

         We know what happens when we live in fear. We become hemmed in and isolated from our neighbors and our best selves. Our lives become less. We are in darkness. When we take that frightening step to welcome the stranger or reach out to someone in need – we may fail – and we may discover new friends and new strength. When we have courage our lives grow larger. Jesus is always inviting us into a newer, larger life. We are being invited to enter in God’s joy at the work of loving the world.