“A Voice in the Wilderness” John 1: 19-34

 This is the Sunday that no one knows what to do with - the Sunday after Christmas. Preachers don’t know what to preach on - we are still in the season of Christmas, celebrating that Christ came to dwell amongst us as God in the flesh, but we already said that a few days ago. Lectionaries - the layout for preaching for the calendar year, sometimes flounder as well. What texts do we point to? What Good News do we declare on this day? 

And so, in many ways, I acknowledge the disjointed nature of today’s text. Why is Pastor Michelle going back to John 1? Didn’t we just hear the beginning of this chapter a few weeks ago? And we certainly did. But for the next several months, my friends, we are going to be journeying through the Gospel of John, and so, today, we start back where we left off, at the beginning of the Gospel, as we too, begin our faith journeys with Christ our Lord.

For is this not what the season of Advent has been preparing us for? For us to have an experience with God through Christ that realigns our world! See friends, Christ did not come just as nice thing - no, Christ came to change us! To realign our priorities and our world so that we seek first the Kingdom of God.

And that causes us to do radical things. 

Case in point, John the Baptizer. John has been doing this baptism thing for a while. Calling people to come into the wilderness, to be baptized in the Jordan River. Once again, not as a nice act, but as a sign of a complete change of life. So it’s no wonder that the Jewish religious leaders have started to catch word of what is happening - and they have questions. 

In today’s text we encounter some Levites, ones who serve in the temple and would see themselves as the protectors of the sacredness of worshiping God, come to John with some questions. Chiefly who are you and by what authority are you offering baptism to our people?

But John doesn’t quite answer the question. At least not at first. Instead, he starts out by saying who he is not. He is not the one appointed by God to be the Savior of the people. He is not the one that the people were waiting for. He was not Elijah - who it was believed would come before the Messiah. He was not even a prophet, coming with a word from the Lord. 

But once John had spent time fielding their questions, which laid bear where their heads and hearts were at, he was finally able to answer who he was. And John lifted up a text that those who came to question him would have known. A text from the prophet Messiah. Stating that he was a voice crying out in the wilderness, prepare the way for the Lord.

If the Levites showed up that day thinking that they would get a simple answer that they could take back to those in the temple, they were sorely disappointed. 

And the questioning did not stop. For now there are some Pharisees, those that are the keeper of the law, who want to know what makes John think that he has any right to offer baptism. 

To which John gave a very plain answer - he is just baptizing with water. But there was one that was here, right now, that they did not see or recognize who was about to do a whole new thing. Because he had came to baptize with the Holy Spirit. And John wasn’t even worthy to be his lowly servant. 

I have to think that John was just as bewildering to those who first encountered him as he is to us as we read about him the accounts of the Gospels. Here is this man who dresses funny, eats differently then everyone else, has these words of challenge to offer to the people, and is doing what doesn’t make sense to the religious leaders. All because he had received a call from God. 

A call that started with the story of his birth. That was rooted in the fact that his parents were well past the age of being able to bear any children, yet the Angel of the Lord showed up at his dad’s work one day and turned their lives upside down. John would have heard the story of his father being silenced until he spoke forth his name, “John”. He would have heard about how he leapt for joy in his mother’s womb when he encountered Jesus when he was still within Mary. If we are honest, John’s story may not even made sense fully to John. But he knew who he was and what he was about - even without having all of the details worked out. 

How about us, brothers and sisters? Who are we? And what makes our celebrate over the past few weeks any different than the world around us? Because if its just that we came to worship to hear the Good News - we may not be fully living into our identities as children of God. 

It’s not just about coming here, my friends. It’s about going out. Being sent out into the world to proclaim that Jesus came to work amongst and redeem even our broken world. We may not have all of the answers. We may have moments when we fail to recognize what God is doing in and through Jesus as well, this Jesus who was born in a manger as King, but that does not mean that we stop bearing witness.

If you ask well-meaning Christians some of the reasons why they don’t evangelize you get a whole list. Things like, I’m afraid that I will alienate people. I’m afraid that I won’t know the answers to the questions that people ask. I’m shy. That just isn’t for me. But friends, those reasons point to a lack of Biblical understanding around evangelism. It’s about simply helping me to see the work of God in their lives and the world. To bear witness to what we know. It doesn’t mean that we need to know all of the answers, because we won’t. But like John, we are called to bear witness to the Light of Jesus Christ. We bear wises to Jesus in our lives, my friends, and that is for every single one of us. 

John the Baptist stood their answering the questions of the religious leaders with a sense of humility and in a way that was completely opposed to the “me-focused” culture of his time and ours. He didn’t want to talk about who he was - he wanted to talk about the one who was greater. He didn’t want the attention to be on his calling - he wanted to lift up the one whom he had came to proclaim. 

Because he recognized glimpses of what God was doing. And those glimpses became the passionate cry of his heart.

What about us? Do we recognize the glimpses of God’s glory, here and now today? Do we tell the story of how Jesus came and changed it all? And does that swell in our hearts because it is the passion of our lives? Because friends, that is what this season is all about. 

On Christmas Eve I started to share with you a brief lyric from from “In Christ Alone” that had captured the attention of my heart leading up to that day. Now I want to share a bit more of that song with you as well: “In Christ alone my hope is found, He is my light, my strength, my song.” Is that true for you, brothers and sisters? As we stand on the precipice of a New Year, is Christ your light, strength and song? If so, how are you willing to proclaim it in the days, weeks, and years to come? Amen. 

"The Birth of Jesus" - Luke 2: 1-20

 Sometimes we can get caught up in the memory of it all, can’t we? The memories associated with this season in particular. We remember Christmas Eve services in the past - lighting candles and singing familiar hymns. We remember big Christmas celebrations with family - complete with presents, decorations, and food spread around the table. We remember.

Yet, at times we also mis-remember, do we not? We remember the Christmas Eve service, but leave out the part of rushing out the door to get there. We remember the family celebrations - but we leave out the fighting. We remember, but we do not always remember accurately. Because we are a sentimental people. We want to have memories that are bursting at the seems with love, peace, hope, and joy, even if it comes at the expense of not always remembering what led to the moments we treasure the most. 

The same happens with scripture, my friends. Sometimes we mis-remember. Sometimes we want to rush to the end and in doing so, well, we set aside the hard pieces that reveal the heart of God to us the most.

Case-in-point, this evening’s scripture lesson. I’ve shared before that one of my favorite Christmas books of all time was introduced to me in third grade and still holds a special place in my heart. It’s entitled The Best/ Worst Christmas Pageant Ever. And returning to it year after year, I am struck by the fact that we try to clean up the Christmas story and its telling. We have Christmas parents where Mary is glowing, but friends, I’m pretty sure a more accurate rendition would be that she was tired. Tired from a long, dusty journey on the back of a donkey. Tired from giving birth. Tired of all of the whispers over the past several months. But even in her weariness, she was faithful.

And what about Joesph? We remember Jospeh for his obedience to God and faithfulness in following through in being engaged with Mary and have thrust him into the limelight for that generous love. But he wasn’t prominent. He wasn’t elite. And his family probably did not understand at all what he was doing. But God still chose and called him.

Or the shepherds. We love to tell how the angels burst forth in the skies, calling these men to go and be the first to lay eyes on the Savior of the world - but we don’t talk about what they risked in doing so. There isn’t any discussion about who is going to stay behind and watch the sheep. They probably didn’t lead their flocks at night through the city streets. So they took the risk of leaving behind their lively hoods because angels came and told them to go and see.

Friends, when we make this story so familiar that we retell it only from our sentimental memories instead of hearing it anew in all that it has to offer, we miss something. We miss the very revelation of Jesus.

Each of the Gospels start out by speaking of Jesus and his story a bit differently. A few weeks ago in worship we heard the words that begin the Gospel of John - a cosmic introduction. But Luke isn’t anything like that. Luke starts out with the power of the world calling a young couple away from their family in their time of need. The power of the town of Bethlehem, full of inn keepers turning them away, even as they see the swell of Mary’s stomach. And into all of that - Luke introduces the power of our Savior. 

I was at a retreat a few weeks ago where we sang together a song I have not heard in sometime - In Christ Alone. It’s this beautiful, powerful song, the words to the second stanza hit me in a way that they haven’t in the past, “In Christ alone! - who took on flesh, fullness of God in helpless babe. This gift of love and righteousness, scored by the ones he came to save.”

That is Luke’s message is it not - that even if the world did not recognize Jesus for who he is, even if they would scorn him - Jesus still came. In the flesh. For you and for me. 

See, friends, like Luke’s first hearers and readers, we know who Jesus is. We know the end of the story. But that doesn’t mean that they understood it. It doesn’t mean that we always understand it either. 

Maybe that’s why we try to clean it up a bit - make it more sentimental - because then its more palatable. Because it is really hard to understand that power was laid in a lowly manger. All because of you. And because of me. 

That’s the story of the Gospel, my friends. That again and again and again Jesus is misunderstood. He is mischaracterized. Because even the disciples, those closest to him, didn’t understand what true power looks like. It looks like God coming in the flesh. It looks like love that lays itself down for others. It looks like hope coming out of the most hopeless of places. 

True power is peace that pass all understand. It’s love that we cannot understand. It’s a peace that changes us. 

And that type of transformation - its messy. It’s not all about shouting from the rooftops - but instead its about taking time to be in quiet awe of our Savior. It’s not about doing things so the world can give us praise - its about faithful action that takes place out of the limelight. It’s not about what we have made Christmas into - but its about starring into the manger and realizing what it means for each of us. 

For when we stare into the manger, well brothers and sisters, that is where we realize why we need a Savior in the first place. And looking right back up at us, we see the ever-present love of God.

That is what we celebrate this evening. That is the message that cannot be contained or trampled by even the most powerful in this world. So let us take time to look into the face of love and let our hearts be changed. All because Christ came to change the world. Amen. 

Thoughts on the Longest Night

 This service is a time set a part for those of us who need a bit of a different pace this Christmas. Maybe you need a break from the tinsel and lights and hustle. Maybe you know that this Christmas is going to be different because someone you love is no longer going to be with you, unwrapping gifts under the tree or eating around the dinner table. Whatever draws you here this evening, know that you are welcome. To come as you are. To come with all of your feelings. To express what you may not be able to say in another space. 

This service was first created, both under the name of Blue Christmas and the Longest Night, for those who are struggling. Therefore, it is appropriate that the the scripture that called us into this time of worship is one to come to Jesus all who are weary, knowing that he and he alone can give you rest. 

Friends, it can be so hard to approach the traditional Advent wreath - one that represents peace, hope, joy, and love when we are not feeling those things in our own spirit. So tonight we also heard a different Advent wreath reading around its lighting - one that calls us to remember that it is God who sustains us, God who strengthens us, and God who brings truth and light into the darkest places in our lives.

Advent is the time to stand in the darkness, but never alone. For we stand there with our brothers and sisters, those who have gathered together this evening, to have the courage to seek the light together. 

Friends, many of you know that I lost one of the most important people in my life this past January. Even these many months of walking through firsts - first birthday, first vacation, first worship service, first time going to his place of work when he wasn’t there, first Thanksgiving - it is still hard. I am still grieving. And I still get sad and angry and all of the other emotions that you can think of in between. 

So I need this service just as much as you do. Because there isn’t a time limit or even a time frame to grief. So let us take time this evening to remember. To remember those we love. To remember the seeking of the light during this season. To remember the love of God that can embrace all of our pain and feelings. 

So we come tonight as those who are seeking and searching. For solace and silence. For light in the darkness. In a few minutes we are going to take time to be together in remembrance as we light candles for our griefs, losses, and longings. May this be a holy time in your Advent season to come and remember that we come because of the Light of True Lights, the one that can hold all our pain and shine light into the darkness, even on this - the longest night. Amen. 

“Word Made Flesh” John 1: 1-18

 “Just don’t preach about the Light. We are tired of hearing about the Light.” A statement that a church member made to me one Advent, in preparation for Christmas Eve. Well, friends, it may not yet be Christmas Eve, and I’m not sure if you can sympathize with the sentiment about being tired of hearing about the Light, but we are going to hear this passage from the Gospel of John together this day. 

Today is the last Sunday of our Advent journey together on a Sunday morning. This week we will be offering special worship services for the Longest Night and Christmas Eve, but by the time that we gather together next Sunday, the season of Christmas will have begun. 

Our text for today doesn’t come from a prophet from the Hebrew Scriptures. It doesn’t tell the story we are used to hearing of Jesus’ brith - but we will hear that proclaimed later this week. Instead, it speak of Jesus as the Word, and the Truth, and the Light.

This season we have been speaking about light in so many different ways. Not just lighting the Advent wreath each week, but also seeking and making room for Christ to truly be the Light of our lives. And that word - truly - that’s where we can get hung up. We may say that we want Christ to be the center of our lives and guide us, but when it comes to every day choices - well, then we would rather go our own way. 

So we need this text. And we need a time to remember. There is something about slowing down, lighting a candle, and watching its flame flicker in the darkness that is seemingly beyond words. Over the years, some people have tried to capture what candle light means to them. One author declared, “the very act of lighting a candle is a prayer” - a prayer that expresses what our voice and thoughts cannot. Another said, “we light a candle to remember that God is here with us.”

And is that not what we have gathered together this day to proclaim - Emmanuel - God with us. While the Gospel of John doesn’t give a traditional version of the accounts surrounding Jesus’ birth, it is of upmost importance to our spiritual lives. John doesn’t begin his Gospel account with the earthly things - barns, birth, and babies. He begins it with the Heavenly things - the Word and Light. John doesn’t care to trace Jesus’ genealogy or to speak about his Earthly parents. Instead he reminds us of God-incarnate, God who has been with us before time even began. God who choose to leave behind his power and prestige in order to bring up hope and life eternal.

John connects his audience to the beginning, to Genesis, where we read that “in the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth.” But he goes even further, “in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” The Word of God and God the Word are the totality of the beginning and the end. The Alpha and the Omega. God always was and always will be.

Yet for one moment in human history, God came to humanity in the form of Jesus Christ, his son who was God and was with God from the very beginning. Its almost too much for our human minds to grasp, so John speaks to our hearts through poetry. God is described as the Word, the logos, that entered into human history and time and acted on our behalf. Who came to save us in the most unexpected of ways. He came to draw us near. To bring us life.

Christ alone is life-giving. He breaths life and brings about light. When there is only darkness, physically or spiritually, there is chaos. We cannot see. We don’t know what to do. We don’t know who we are. And even though the forces of darkness and chaos are among us today, we have a hope in the Light of Christ. 

A light that we remember this day. A hope that Christ will never be overcome by the darkness. A light that we live in the midst of each and every day. With every dance of the flame we once again renew our yearning to find life and hope and strength in Christ, the Word became flesh. We invite Christ into the chaos of our lives and ask him to ignite our hearts for him. 

As we look at the signs of light in this place and beyond we remember that we did not create the light, we simply shine it for others. We simply wait together this evening, in hopeful expectation for the one who spoke light and life into being. The same one who came to dwell among us as the Light of the World. The same one who is with us this evening and every day who lights our path, drawing us closer to God.

The problem, friends, is that often we do a much better job as the church telling the story of the darkness instead of the light. We point out all of the ways that it seems like darkness is winning. Those things that make us tremble instead of boldly stepping into the light.

See, we still need to hear about Jesus being the Light of the World here today, because it offers the innovation for us to step into that light. We need to be the ones, especially this time of the year, proclaiming the majesty and divine love of our Savior. Because that is what this season is all about. The incarnation. God with us. 

Now does that mean that everyone we proclaim this truth to will listen? No. We know that not everyone will listen because they didn’t listen to Jesus when he came. The world told Jesus to go away. And they didn’t say that friends, because they simply didn’t like what he was saying. They said that because they resented him. Deeply. 

So no, not everyone may receive the Light of Christ that we share. But that does not stop us from sharing. Because we represent Christ in this world.

Sitting on my desk at home is a Willow Tree figure. She is holding out a single, lit candle and bears the name “Angel of Hope”. How appropriate. For surely we find hope in the light of the Lord and are called to bear that light to others. The hope and love of God with us. The hope and love that we find this evening in the Gospel of John. 

Brothers and sisters, as each family leaves today, I invite you to pick up a luminary bag. A luminary is a way of sharing the light of this season into the world. A simple bag that has sand and an electric candle placed in it - put outside of your home for the next several day to share the light of Christ.

For that is who we are called to be - this season and beyond. One who shines the light for others. Many of us may have grown up with someone who turned on the light for us when we were scared or placed a nightlight in the wall. Or maybe this is a gift that you offered to others. Friends, let us offer the gift of illuminating light into the world as we shine the light of Christ. sking him to light our hearts anew. Go forth and live in the Light of Christ.  Amen. 

“Word Accomplishes God’s Purpose” Isaiah 55:1-13

 My family has always been ones to prepare for things early. My mother is always good about making us have our Christmas lists complete before October, shopping done before November, tree up in early November, and so on. Our preparation is not limited to Christmas – oh no – even to this day I usually have my bags packed a week before I make a trip. 

But really that’s what makes part of anything we look forward to worthwhile, right? The sense of expectation that comes when we begin to prepare. The mounting joy and sense of wonder that comes as each day brings us one step closer.

The people of Israel had lost their sense of expectation. Their sense of having something to prepare for. The place they lived and worship, the place that they believed the spirit of God dwelled had fallen – Jerusalem had been taken by the Babylonians and with it, the people of power had been marched on a three month journey to be exiled in Babylon. It was a bleak time that lasted for many years. So many that those who were first taken away had died off, leaving only their legacy and stories of what once had been of the people of Israel and the mighty city of Jerusalem. And with the death of those who first traveled so many miles seemed to be the extinction of any hope of returning.

The people felt that they were being punished for breaking their covenant with God. It is what the prophets of old had told them. It was what their forefathers and mothers had drilled into their heads. It was what they believed.

But then. But then the unexpected happened. In a community so wrought with despair, God appeared. God not only appeared, but God did this radical things. God commanded God’s very self to comfort his people. Let’s stop for just a moment and think about that. No one on this earth or in the host of Heaven has the power to command God and actually expect God to do what was commanded. No one. No one, except for God’s very being. And that is what we have here; God telling God to comfort the people of Israel. He wants Israel to know that their time of trial is coming to a close. That salvation is just around the corner. God gives the people something to hope for. Something to prepare for.

God tells the people that help is on the way. Seek the Lord and you will find him. And you will be filled with joy. 

This must be done – for God has commanded God, and God cannot go back on his own word. Everything else is this world may only be beautiful and true for a fleeting period of time, but the word of God always is fulfilled without mortal limitations.

God is doing a new thing. He is about to come in and declare his might by gathering up this people, his very own, and carrying them back to the place of freedom form which they came. 

What a powerful message. What a radical message for a people who had never actually seen or been to Jerusalem. We will find is subsequent weeks that not all followed this message of God and not all believed this message of God commanding God’s very self. But maybe this message and the reaction to it by God’s people isn’t too far off from our reality today.

Today we are in the third Sunday of Advent. We are half way to Christmas. And while the world around us is spinning, we are invited to come and sit in the joy of the Lord. To be filled and then to go forth with that joy to spread with the world.

I recently was having a conversation with some devout believers about what prevents people from coming to a life in Christ. My answer surprised them. A lack of joy. Friends, joy is not only the focus of this particular week of Advent, it is a fruit of a spirit. Not a gift of the spirit that only some are given to build up the body of Christ. A fruit of the spirit that is evidence of Christ working in our hearts and lives.

Yet, do you know some folks who love Jesus but aren’t filled with joy? Remember joy is not dependent upon circumstances. Isaiah is speaking to the people about joy when they are in the middle of a heart-breaking exile. Yet, joy is still avaliable in God and joy can still be shared. 

We are are a people of joy. Yet the world around us is going to try to beat that out of us and distract us with worries and hustle from the deep, abiding joy we can have in the Lord. Even in this season. We can become so distracted, friends, that we forget who we are. This is the time of the year when we all should be slowing down and reflecting upon God, yet sometimes it seems like we are just running from one thing to the next without really having time to seek the face of God.

Yet that’s exactly what today’s scripture passage invites us to do. To seek God’s face and be filled. Isaiah is speaking to a group of exiles, trying to bring them hope and proclaim God’s salvation to them. He is speaking to those who are becoming discouraged being in a foreign land amongst people who do not believe what they believe. And to these people who yearn for God to save them, the prophet proclaims, “everyone who thirsts, come to the waters.” Come seek after God and be filled. 

We call each other to come and remember as the people of God tthat God is so faithful, because we are being held captive by the world around us. So when some of us hear this message of hope that some in our midst become excited about and start to prepare for, we dismiss them as optimists or dreamers. Because in all actuality, we don’t want to return to this place we have never been. We don’t want to trust this God whom had just be handed down to us through our ancestors but whom we have never met. So we choose to stay put. We continue in our bleak daily existence, because we don’t have anything radical to become excited about any more.

But others of us will hear the still small whisper of the truth about this season. The truth about what is yet to come. So we become excited. We look forward to something that we don’t know quite what to expect. And even in the unexpected we are filled with joy. 

So in the words of a Christian song I find deeply moving, . “Let all who are weak, all who are weary. Come to the rock, come to the fountain. All who have sailed on the rivers of heartache, come to the sea, come on be set free!” Friends, the invitation to come to the waters and seek after God are just as much extended to us today as they were to the people of Israel. And that is truly what the season of Lent is about, seeking and finding. Realizing that God’s ways are above our ways. Stopping and sitting in the silence listening to the voice of God. To cease striving for the things that cannot last and do not truly satisfy. 

Whenever I hear this text from Isaiah my mind goes to the Samaritan woman at the well who encountered Jesus one day. She listened to him talk about this water that will satisfy so you will no longer be thirsty. God is offering us that water still. The water that quenches our very spirits, from everlasting to everlasting. Yet, all to often we reject what God is offering us in our haste to get to the next thing. Or we don’t realize how truly thirsty we are. We forget that what God is offering us is truly the best. Offering us living water from the fountain of life that will not run dry. 

 For when we run from one thing to the next looking for satisfaction, looking for truth, looking for meaning, looking only for the joy of this world - we will never find what we are looking for. Never find the water that fills our spirits. The water that is freely given and can be freely received. For that water can only be found in the presence of a Holy God. The one whom the prophet tells us to seek after. May we allow God to draw near to us this Advent season. May we seek after the one who invites us to come. 

“Ezekiel: Valley of Dry Bones” Ezekiel 37:1-14

 Hope. How has your last week been, brothers and sisters, as you have sat with the message of the hope of Christ? This week, as we focus on the message of God’s peace, we do not throw away hope or forget about it. Yet, our peace is built upon this foundation of God’s hope offered to the world in our Savior, Jesus Christ. 

This year we are approaching Advent a bit differently as a parish. We are looking at the Hebrew Scriptures to see how the prophets of old foretold the coming of Jesus and all that they said he would offer to the world. We are bringing together the scriptures with the Advent wreath - this symbol of the eternity of God and his endless mercy. This way we have to reflect upon the newness and renewal that takes places during this sacred season as we walk with God. The candles themselves tell the story of Christ being the light of the world. A light that was needed long ago, which we will see in our scripture lesson, but also a light that our world stands in need of today, as well. 

Last week we talked about the hope that God offers to his people. The hope that shines into the dark places. The hope that we have in Jesus. This week, we light the second candle, the candle of peace. Peace that shines into the dark places. The peace we have in Jesus. 

Ezekiel, like Jeremiah, is another prophet who is called to serve the Lord during the time of Babylonian exile. Only he is called while he is living in exile himself. In fact, he was only ever a prophet in exile - he never got to return to his homeland. 

Remember last week to how we heard about the Israelites finding themselves in exile. They are in crisis. Both politically - they have been carried off. But also spiritually - the point where they are starting to doubt God’s power and faithfulness.

Enter Ezekiel. Called to minister to a people who are struggling.In to this desperate situation walks the prophet Ezekiel - telling them that he had a message from the Lord that he had tasted, one that was as sweet as honey. But in reality, that didn’t make the children of Israel want it any more. They didn’t want to hear yet another message from yet another prophet. No thank you. Under no circumstances. Not here or there, not in a house or with a mouse. Not anywhere. All they really wanted were words of assurance and comfort, and Ezekiel admitted that wasn’t exactly the message he had come to relay to them. In fact, up to this point his prophesy has been less than cheery, and now where we pick up with the prophesy today he is talking about unpleasant things - dry bones in the valley - symbols of the ultimate death. 

But also Ezekiel - who very clearly calls the people to account for their sins. the people of Israel were so set on not receiving what this prophet was presenting that they missed what happened next. They missed that God spoke through the prophet Ezekiel and told the dry, dead bones to come to life. And they did! God had sent Ezekiel to proclaim to this defeated people that God had the power to bring new life out of disrepute situations. Even destruction. Even death. Even their current state of exile. 

Jesus knew what it was like to try to get a stubborn people to swallow something difficult, but necessary for us - his death and resurrection. Throughout the gospels Jesus proclaimed the truth, that he was the son of God who had come to redeem us from the sin that had plagued our human nature since the time of Adam and Eve. He came and preached the radical and saving love of God. He demonstrated that love by freely dying on the cross for us, even when we rejected him. And the power of that love still resounds today because of his resurrection from the dead.

  Jesus knew that we needed him to make it through life. He knew that people needed to see the love of God shining through him in order to truly find the way to God. But he was ulimately rejected by so many - the government and religious establishment, many of his disciples and friends. People who had welcomed him eagerly at the beginning of one week and would turn on him in short order by the end. Because his message was hard to swallow and they would not, could not accept him as their Lord. 

  Jesus was rejected because of the message he was preaching. He was rejected because he was a man from a place that wasn’t very special, Nazareth. He was rejected because he wasn’t the type of savior that many people had envisioned - one that had come to lead a rebellion and over throw Rome, bringing freedom to Israel. He didn’t look like a Savior, until you started to spend time with him. 

Friends, the dry bones that Ezekiel is speaking of and to are still in our lies today. We still have places of disgrace and unrest in our lives where we need to receive a word. And need to receive the Word in the flesh, Jesus Christ. The word that is spoken to the bones is one of hope, but also one of peace - that the way that world exists now will not be the way that it exists forever. The bones are those who have seen death on every side, yet even for them there is a renewed future because of the Word of the Lord. For God has spoken and Israel will live - and not live as they did before. 

Here’s the truth brothers and sisters, the message of Jesus Christ is just as hard to swallow today as it was back when Jesus walked this earth. And people just as passionately don’t want to receive what we have to say, as the people of Israel were with Ezekiel. But we keep sharing - because someday the people around us who we love dearly are going to realize that they need Jesus Christ in their lives. Maybe when they are going through a difficult time or maybe when everything seems right in their lives but they still sense that something is missing. The apostle Paul writes to the church in Corinth that we are ambassadors for Christ. An ambassador is one who acts and speaks on behalf of. We need to start representing Christ to the world, Church! Christ didn’t die so that we could continue to live for ourselves - he died so we could live for him. And he gave us a very clear mission to make disciples for him, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And yet, we aren’t bringing new people to Jesus Christ. We live in a world that is just crying out for people to passionately share their faith, but we are too scared to do it.  We, too, need hope. We, too, need peace, But not just for ourselves. We are surrounded by people who need to try a new thing - who need to come to know the love and hope of Jesus Christ in their lives. What are we willing to risk to make that happen? What are we willing to risk to share the love of God that changed our lives? Amen.