
Nothing Good, but Something Greater
Have you ever stumbled upon something greater than you were expecting? Perhaps you went to the symphony to hear some amazing musicians playing some the world’s greatest compositions, but in the middle of the performance you found yourself taken not only with the music but with the connection to amazing human genius, emotion, and being. Or maybe you went to the grocery looking for ice cream and found the new gallon sized container and just stood there in awe and wonder.
Jesus’ disciples have been looking, searching, waiting for the Messiah (John 1:41). John pointed Simon and Andrew to him. Phillip pointed him out to Nathaniel. They were all searching for someone great, pointing one another to Jesus for they were convinced that their search was ended. They had found what they were looking for.
Or did they? They were looking for something great, but could they have even known who Jesus was? Can anything good come from Nazareth? Come and see, for he might be all that you have been looking for, and more. Jesus promises that in him, “You will see even greater things than these.”
Pastor Lars Olson
More Connected But Lonelier Than Ever
This coming Saturday night, we will celebrate the in-breaking light of the Epiphany Season with the premiering of a special candlelight service at 6:00 p.m. entitled, [LINK] "Festival of Light." This is a marvelous opportunity for our entire Sioux Falls community to trace, and more deeply understand, the connectedness of the Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany stories – including dramatic sketches, Scripture readings, together with the music of colorful brass, percussion, flute, organ and festival choirs of all ages. The service will conclude with the [LINK] visit of the Magi. Then, on Sunday morning, at all three worship services (8:00, 9:30, 11:00), we will celebrate Holy Communion together around God’s Word from Mark 1:4-11. It’s a Word that speaks not only of Jesus’ baptism, but connects you with the promises God has made for you at your baptism – as his beloved child. “You are my beloved daughter/son; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11; RSV)
Now let me ask you to stop for a moment and reflect. How often, if ever, do you think about baptism in general, or your own baptism, in particular? And what, if anything, does baptism mean to you? Do you consider baptism an important event in your life or no? Finally, would you agree that baptism is the most important event in our lives? Here’s why I ask …
I’m certainly no “techie” (just ask my colleagues!) … However, I am struck big-time, in today’s culture, by the many data related expressions of affirmation. Facebook gives us the chance to “like” movies or music or posts and to have things we write or post “liked” by our “friends” in return. Twitter and Instagram for example, invite us to collect thousands of “friends” or “followers,” most of whom we’ve never even met! Right? And ads are increasingly personalized, targeting (“geo-tagging”) our particular tastes and creating the impression that we’re the most important customer in the world. And so on.
One of the reasons I think social media and various digital platforms are so powerful is precisely because they creatively offer affirmation (here’s that word again) in plentiful doses. Deep down of course, we know that this kind of affirmation doesn’t really mean all that much. Or at least shouldn’t. And many of the folks we encounter via the web, after all, don’t really know us and we don’t know them. So how can their “likes” or “hearts” create any enduring sense of value or worth? Yet, it’s hard not to wonder what’s wrong with the picture we posted to Instagram if only ten people “liked” it when another picture gathered-in hundreds. Right?
So, while this kind of affirmation may be somewhat superficial, it’s at least better than nothing. We crave that recognition/interaction because we are, at heart, inherently social critters. Almost every element of our being reflects God’s observation in Genesis that ‘it’s not good for us to be alone’ (Genesis 2:18). And so the affirmation, relentless as it is ubiquitous, social media creates the perception that we’re linked or connected to a community of all these like-minded, like-able people who really value or like us. If you, like, know what I mean.
But is this perception or illusion? In a book that was published in 2015 by Dr. Sherry Turkel, a Psychology prof. at MIT, entitled, Alone Together (TED Talk link), she’s discovered that people today report feeling simultaneously more connected and lonelier than ever before. Why? Because while we may crave affirmation (those superficial kudos of “likes”), what we really need is acceptance (valued just as you are, warts and all, by God). Come and hear more about this amazing gift, that no matter how unacceptable we are – being guilty as sin – we are still accepted and beloved by God, the very Creator of the whole Cosmos! This is what’s at the heart of baptism. And for a generation that’s been sold a cheap affirmation as a substitute for genuine acceptance, there’s no more powerful or important word.
May the light of Christ shine on you in this season of Epiphany,
j.r. christopherson
Senior Pastor
Simeon’s Song: A Peculiar Carol
“Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy Word;
for mine eyes have seen thy salvation which thou hast prepared in the presence
of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”
(Luke 2:29-32; RSV)
Over the past few days, while pondering the upcoming Gospel text for this weekend (Luke 2:22-40), from St. Luke’s nativity narrative, a question came to my mind that I’ve never really thought of before. Here’s the question: “After all the festive celebrations of candlelight services last Sunday on Christmas Eve, services that included the singing of uplifting carols such as Angels We Have Heard On High or Joy To The World … and after all the exchanges of brightly colored presents and fun-spirited time with family and friends … well … what-in-the-world are we doing here in this gospel text, talking about death?!” Huh? After all, St. Luke’s account of Simeon’s troubling song is simply haunted by the specter of death. Right? And so, alongside the other Christmas carols we’ll like be singing this weekend, this one sounds peculiar if not flat-out odd, almost dissonant (to use a musical expression). So, let me ask the question very simply, once more: “What’s all this talk about death doing in the middle of our Christmas celebrations of birth and new life?”
Many of us know all too well, how the loss of a loved one makes this Christmas Season particularly difficult. And most of us are reminded of those we’ve loved and lost simply by singing a stanza from a hymn, the touch of a favorite ornament or an absent stocking on the mantle, the taste of peppermint stick … some fleeting but vivid memories of Christmases past. Well, guess what? Simeon’s no different. He’s an old man now (note the marvelous depiction of Simeon as interpreted by Rembrandt). And Simeon’s been around the block more than a few times. And so we can imagine that he’s tasted love and loss, joy and despair, hopes and fears, just like you and I. And so he sings of death simply because he can’t help himself, because he, like us, lives with death every day. “Thou sure and firm set earth; Hear not my steps, which way they walk; For fear the very stones prate of my whereabouts” (Wm. Shakespeare’s Macbeth; II,i,56).
But, take note here. This is more than merely stark realism. For St. Luke is clear that Simeon is able to speak of death so honestly only in the light of the coming of the promised Messiah; only, that is, by the con-fidence (“with faith”) that in this helpless child, God has come to redeem Israel and save the world (cf. Paul Tillich’s “Love Is Stronger Than Death” in The New Being, p.172-174). “Lord,” Simeon sings, “now you can let your servant go in peace; for your word has been fulfilled.” Simeon perceives, you see, that in the Christ Child, God has kept God’s promises (e.g. Isaiah 7:14; 9:1-7). That in this new-born baby, set for the rising and fall of many, God has acted “once and for all” (Romans 6:10; Hebrews 10:10; I Peter 3:18) to address the question and specter of death with the promise of new life.
Thus, we continue to sing Simeon’s Song, all these many years after the events of St. Luke has recorded for us, simply because it bears witness to God’s great love for us – a love that even death cannot destroy (Romans 8:37-39). For, like Simeon, we also need to hear and see (the proclamation of God’s Word) and touch and feel God’s promise (receiving the Holy Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper), the promise that God will be with us and for us forever, the promise announced in the birth of that holy babe in a manger, now held lovingly in Simeon’s arms and ours. I hope to see you at worship this weekend, in hearing God’s Word for you; yes, to set the New Year upon a solid foundation …
A Blessed Christmas to you and Hope-filled New Year.
Dr. John Christopherson
Senior Pastor
What shall I cry?
Waiting is more than just standing in line at the supermarket wishing everyone would hurry a little bit. That can be annoying, but at least there is an end in sight. Waiting in a much deeper sense is enduring suffering, wondering when help will arrive. That's the situation the prophet Isaiah is sent to speak about in our Old Testament scripture this weekend. In the midst of exile, stuck in a far off land, the people of God are trapped in a generations-long wondering about when, or if, any help will come to them. There they sit on the edge of despair as a conquered people without power, strength, will or resolve to change their fortunes.
We all know something like this. Trapped between what we wish and what we experience, stuck with the knowledge that we lack the power to make things as we like. Yes, we don't like to admit it and we do a marvelous job convincing ourselves that there is something better just over the horizon – if just we could make it that far. "Just put one foot in front of the other and we'll make it there together" is our hope until even those hopes are dashed. A crushing disease, or a terrible accident? Enormous expectations, or unrelenting abuse? When there is no hope left in us, then who will come and help? What shall I cry?
This is Advent, when those who wither like grass wait upon and watch for the coming of Christ Jesus, as we hear God speak to the stuck, trapped, and oppressed, "Comfort. Comfort. Comfort. I am coming for you."
Pastor Lars Olson
Keep Awake
Dear Friends in Christ,
Here we are, at the start of what the church calls Advent* and the world calls The Christmas Season. In this weekend’s Scripture readings, however, we do not encounter visions of sugarplums or the sound of sleigh bells. Instead, we hear cries of lament and suffering from the prophet Isaiah: “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” the prophet wails. And then in the Gospel reading, Jesus warns that this age is quickly coming to an end, and we are to be alert and ready. He says, “Beware, keep alert, for you do not know when the time will come. Keep awake.” (Mark 13:33, 37b)
To “keep awake” is to live with the intensity of living in the last days, while still tending to the good work God has given us. Surely you have been asked a question like, “What would you do if you knew you only had a month to live?” Your priorities would sharpen, your awareness would be heightened, you wouldn’t take so much for granted. However, living with this kind of intensity for an unknown period of time is, frankly, not possible. Gratefully, Jesus has given us more than exhortations, teachings, and warnings to help us keep our focus. By his coming into our world, by his death on the cross and triumphant resurrection, he gave us his very own life to hold onto when our faith, our trust, our hope, our own life reaches its limits and comes to an end.
Once, Martin Luther was asked what he would do if he believed the world would end tomorrow, and he responded, “I would plant a tree today.” When Jesus bids us to live awake, on the watch, he is calling us to invest in the present and trust in the future that God alone holds. So let us live awake, alert, attentive to what God is doing through Jesus Christ – the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end of all things. He was and is and is to come. Amen!
Pastor Katherine
* P.S. The season of Advent is not only counter-cultural, but mysterious to Christians of all ages as we embrace themes such as waiting, hope, preparation, and anticipation among the “busy-ness” of this world. Concordia Publishing House has produced a 2½ minute video which serves as a lovely introduction to the season. I invite you to view it here.