“Best for Last” (John 2:1-11)

When throwing a party . . . like a wedding reception . . . the unwritten protocol is to serve the best first, let the people get liquored up, and then bring out the cheap stuff.  Why?  Because the people will be too inebriated to know the different . . . they will be too drunk!  Even the caterer for the wedding reception in our scripture reading knows this as he speaks to the bridegroom about his faux pas.  Remember what he says? “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink . . .”

The bridegroom wasn’t playing by the rules!  He had saved the best for last.  Actually, he really had nothing to do with it.  Blame it on Jesus.

Any of you who have been to a wedding know this story.  The minister officiating at a wedding typically includes this story in his or her opening remarks about how Jesus officially started his ministry with the miracle at the wedding feast in Cana.  As Jesus, his disciples and mother, are sitting around the banquet room with all the other wedding guests it is discovered that there was no more wine to drink.  An observation that Mary, Jesus’ mother, points out to her son.  Not only does she point it out, she more or less hints to him that he should do something about it.  And, what is Jesus’ reaction?

Like a typical child, he responds: “Aw, Mom!”

But, he does it.  He takes six stone jars, tells the servants to pour water into them . . . and, viola!  There is wine . . . not the cheap stuff either, but the good stuff . . . which creates the scene between the caterer and bridegroom.

The result of the very first miracle?  The disciples believed in Jesus.  Well, that and a big argument between the caterer and bridegroom . . . but, the important thing is that the writer reveals to us that the disciples believed in Jesus.

For generations there have been arguments about the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament over whether or not it is the same God.  There are folks who argue that the God of the Old Testament was a mean, grumpy, vindictive God . . . always smiting this person or group . . . punishing the people.  There is a lot of bloodshed in the Old Testament.  Because of this, they argue, this cannot be the same God as the New Testament.  The God of the New Testament is a loving, caring God of grace . . . a nice entity.  They argue that this could not be the same God.  The argument goes that because this is true, there is no need for the Old Testament . . . after all, we are a people of the New Testament.  They have no need for the Old Testament.

It is a pretty good argument . . . it makes sense . . . except for the fact that the God of the Old Testament is the same God as the one found in the New Testament.  God is God whether it is in the Old or New Testament.  You cannot throw out one book in favor of the other book . . . you have to have both to get the whole story and to understand the story.  Thus, after many, many years, I have come to this conclusion in explaining this issue or argument about the God found in both books . . .  

Picture, if you will, God as a parent.  In the Old Testament we have God, the parent, attempting to get the children to do the right thing . . . which is to love God and one another . . . to develop that intimate relationship between one another.  And, like any parent, God tries every parenting tip that there is to get the children to be obedient.  God chews them out.  God sends them to their rooms.  God spanks them.  God does every imaginable thing that God can do, but nothing works.  The people just will not be obedient to God’s desires or will.

In reading the Old Testament we can see every act of God in God’s attempt to get the people to be obedient.  It is some pretty hair-raising stuff, but nothing works.  Now any parent who is at the end of his or her wits would probably throw up his or her hands, quit, and walk away . . . of just wipe the slate clean and start over.  But God does not do this; no, God finally figures it out.

The best parenting skill a parent can have is the ability to model what he or she wants the children to do.  God figures this out.  God figures this out and decides that the only way to effectively get the children to love God and one another is to show them how it is done.  To model it.  Through Jesus, God models what God desires.  God shows the way it is to be done.

And, guess what?  This is it.  This is the last attempt of God to get the children to be obedient.  After this, there is nothing else.  Thus, I would argue, that God has saved the best for last.

The best is the way shown by Jesus . . . the way that he lived his life . . . the message that he spoke.  Jesus said, in John 14:6: “I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.”  Over and over again, Jesus said, “Follow me.”

In the Gospel of John the story of grace and love . . . the story of redemption and salvation . . . begins with the best being offered last . . . and, this is it.  This, in my estimation, is God’s last attempt in fulfilling what God originally intended . . . intimacy with us and between one another.  God, through Jesus, shows us the way.  Ultimately the life and story of Jesus shows us the way.

Now, no one likes it when the good stuff runs out and the cheap stuff is brought out.  Typically that is a sign that it is time to go home.  But, when someone brings out the best for last . . . well, that is a different matter.  We think of the host in a different light.  Here is a person who really cares about those who have gathered . . . cares enough to use the best.  In using the best that individual lets us know that he or she cares about us . . . wants us to have the best . . . that he or she loves us.  And, because of this gracious and giving act, we in return hold that individual in esteem . . . maybe even feel as if we love the individual . . . maybe even believe in that person.

Isn’t that how we feel when we encounter Jesus in our lives?

A central theme during the season of Epiphany is focused upon those moments in our lives where there is a sudden awareness—an “aha” moment—that reveals a great understanding or learning.  Sort of like that moment when you are sipping on your tomato juice and you become aware that you could have had a V8 instead.  For me, this scripture reading was an epiphany in that it became apparent to me that as the writer in the Gospel of John is setting Jesus off on his ministry and mission, that the writer is also tying up the loose ends in the story by revealing that this is it . . . this is God’s last attempt at restoring that which has been lost . . . intimacy and grace.  Jesus is the best and God gives the best to us last.  This is it.  With Jesus representing such a gracious and loving act . . . of showing us the way . . . of modeling the relationship with God and others . . . we ought to believe.

In believing, we give our best to God . . . we give our best to one another.  In the end, that is all we can do.  Amen.

“Intentions” (Matthew 2:1-12)

“A determination to act in a certain way.”  That is the definition of “intention”.  In the story of the magi that we heard this morning, we heard a story of intentions . . . in fact, we heard a story about two very different intentions. 

The magi, the wise men from the east, had seen a great star . . . had heard the rumors and prophecies . . . and, thus, they followed it until they arrived at the palace of King Herod, the king of the Jews.  Upon their arrival they began asking questions as to the whereabouts of the one to which this star pointed to . . . the king of the Jews.  They wanted to know because they wanted to come and worship him.  That was their “intentions” . . . they wanted to worship this new king.

Now Herod, on the other hand, was disturbed by the news . . . in fact, all of Jerusalem was disturbed by this news.  And why shouldn’t Herod be upset and disturbed by the news . . . the last time he had looked in the mirror he was the king of the Jews.  This news of a new king posed a threat to Herod’s monarchy . . . his rule . . . his power.  One thing that a monarch doesn’t appreciate is competition towards his or her throne.  Like the magi, Herod wanted to know where this supposed new king could be found.  Calling his council, the chief priests, and leading teachers, he wanted to know where this king . . . this newborn king . . . was supposed to be.

Ask and you shall receive.

Those gathered told Herod that the king . . . the newborn king . . . would be found in the little town of Bethlehem in Judea.  To back up their location they shared the scripture . . . the words of the prophets . . . that explained it all.  With this news, I imagine that Herod hatched his plan . . . a plan to rid himself of competition . . . to rid himself of this upstart.  He called the magi to the throne, explained where they would find him, and then gave them explicit instructions . . . “Go and make a careful search for the child.  As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

Unlike the magi, Herod’s intentions had nothing to do with worship.  No, his intentions was to rid himself of his competition . . . his intention was to kill the child.

So, there you have it . . . a story of two intentions.  One is to worship the child; the other is to kill the child.  And, yet, in our story . . . both proclaim that worship was the foundation of their intentions.  The magi do exactly as they intended to do, they worship the child . . . shower the child with gifts of gold, incense, and myrrh.  Then, thanks to a dream they had, they hightail it out of Bethlehem . . . they head home . . . and, wanted nothing to do with whatever it was that Herod really intended to.  They were pretty sure that it was not to worship the child.

Now, that is where our reading this morning ends . . . but, there is more to the story.  The magi were not the only ones to have a dream.  Joseph, too, has a dream; and, in the dream that he received he was told to take his small family and head for Egypt and safety for King Herod’s intentions is to find the child and kill him.  Like the magi, Joseph heads for safety.  The real intentions of Herod have now be exposed.

When the magi never return, Herod was furious.  They had screwed up his plans.  He has no idea where the child actually is . . . has no idea which child it is . . . and, he is angry.  To solve the problem the people of Israel would suffer . . . he sets forth a mandate that all the male children—two years and younger—shall be put to death.  In his mandate the words of the prophet Jeremiah are fulfilled: “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”  It was a sad and final climax to the story at this point . . . Herod fulfilled his real intentions . . . at least, he thought he had.

Fortunately, we know the rest of the story.  We know that Jesus was tucked away with his family in Egypt.  We know that eventually King Herod dies . . . Joseph is given the green light to return home . . . and, well . . . the story continues.

So, what do we learn from this story about “intentions”?  Well, I would venture to say that “intentions” . . . real “intentions” . . . are betrayed by action.  That is what the definition said . . . an intention is a determination to act in a certain way . . . those with the intentions carry them out as they intend them to be.  The magi fulfilled their intentions . . . they found the child and they worshipped the child.  Herod, despite his spoken intentions, carried out his real intentions . . . he wiped out a generation of children in order to feel secure in his monarchy and power.

In this familiar story we can agree that the primary characters had conflicting “intentions” . . . they definitely were not on the same page.  In part of the story we cheer on the magi as they realize that King Herod is attempting to use them for his own good . . . we cheer as we watch them traipse over the horizon and head home.  We groan and are filled with sadness when we realize that Herod is not going to be deterred from following his own intentions . . . if he can’t kill the one he sought, he will kill them all in hopes of killing the one who threatens him.  We shed a tear for the lives so unjustly taken from their parents and family.  That is where all our focus is in this story . . . and, yet, the story is bigger than the magi and King Herod.

How quickly we forget.

There is another “intention” in this story . . . and, it is the “intention” of God.  This is a story of redemption . . . of restoration . . . of grace . . . of love . . . and, that deep desire of God to return to intimacy with the family God created.  After all, this is the Christmas story.  God will not be deterred in God’s intentions.

As I said, how quickly we forget. 

We forget that words often have more than one meaning . . . that words multiple meanings . . . and, the word “intention” has other meanings that are pertinent to this story—the Christmas story.

“Intention” also means . . . “a process or manner of healing of incised wounds.”  The story of Jesus . . . his life and his words . . . his ministry . . . are all part of the process of God healing the wounds.  The wounds of separation.  The wounds of sin.  The wounds of lost love.  The wounds that split a family and destroy relationships.  That is the “intention” of God to restore the intimacy between God’s children with God and one another.

“Intention” also means “an object of prayer or a pious act that is offered.”  Again, the Christmas story . . . the story of Jesus . . . the life of Jesus, his death, his resurrection . . . that is prayer and hope of God . . . to restore that which is closest to God’s heart . . . a relationship with God’s children.

In this story, God’s “intentions” trumped those of the magi and King Herod.  They always do.

Whenever we hear a story we have a tendency to identify ourselves with certain characters in the story.  In this story we assumed that there were two characters, but discover that there are three . . . suddenly we move from having to choose between the magi and King Herod . . . we have another option.  Which of the three are we going to identify with . . . the magi—who come to worship . . . King Herod who comes for power and to destroy anything that threatens . . . or, God who is determined to restore relationship and intimacy based on love and grace?  Which one are we going to choose?  Which one fits our intentions?

Well, I know which one I hope that each of us chooses . . . but, it is an individual decision . . . personal to each of us.  Will it be to protect . . . to worship . . . or to reconcile?  I don’t know.  All I do know is that in the end . . . in the end . . . our actions will betray our intentions.  They did for the magi.  They did for King Herod.  And, well, we know they did for God . . . they did for God because we have the opportunity to follow the one who will show us the way to reconciliation.  Reconciliation between us and God . . . reconciliation between us and one another.  The choice is always ours.  May we all choose well.  Amen.

“Dancing in the Light” (John 1:1-18)

I am not much of a dancer . . . never have been.  No, I have been pretty much a wallflower my whole life when it came to dancing.  For those of you unfamiliar with the term “wallflower” . . . a “wallflower” is “a person who has no one to dance with or who feels shy, awkward, or excluded at a party.”  Growing up as a kid . . . through those formative years of junior and senior high school . . . I was a wallflower.  For most of my life I have stood on the dark periphery of the dance floor scared to death that someone would ask me to dance revealing my awkward and ungraceful movement more reminiscent of someone slipping on ice than actual dancing.  I can remember that the thing I dreaded the most when my daughter got married was the father/daughter dance . . . I did not dread the final tab for the wedding . . . I did not dread whether or not my son-in-law would be a good husband or not.  Nope, it was having to go out on the dance . . . all alone with my daughter . . . and having to dance in front of all those family and friends.

When it comes to dancing . . . well, let’s just say that I prefer to stand on the edge of the darkness—just outside of the glaring light of the dance floor . . . and bid my luck that no one will ask me to dance.

As much as I hate to dance—or am scared to dance, I have to admit that one of the coolest metaphors about faith . . . our intimate relationship with God . . . has to do with dancing.  That God calls us to come and dance . . . to dance with God.  I have always liked that metaphor, especially when one of my favorite songs is Sydney Carter’s Lord of the Dance.  This wonderful song came out in the early 1960s as a non-traditional worship song in the Catholic Church in hopes that it would appeal to a younger audience.  Its melody is set to the Shaker tune ‘Tis a Gift to Be Simple.  Whatever the case, the song is about the call of God to come dancing:

I danced in the morning when the world was young

I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun

I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth

At Bethlehem I had my birth

Dance, dance, wherever you may be

I am the Lord of the dance, said he

And I lead you all, wherever you may be

And I lead you all in the dance, said he

Each verse tells how God, through Jesus, danced . . . tells the story of Jesus’ life and ministry.  It tells how he dances for the scribes and Pharisees—but they wouldn’t dance, so instead he dances with the disciples . . . tells about how he danced on the Sabbath curing the lame, but this offended the holy people resulting in him being crucified . . . tells how he danced in his death, but death could not defeat him—could not stop his dance:

They cut me down and I leapt up high

I am the life that will never, never die

I’ll live in you if you’ll live in me

I am the Lord of the dance said he

And through the whole song, God—through Jesus, continues to offer the invitation to come and dance:

Dance, dance, wherever you may be

I am the Lord of the dance, said he

And I lead you all, wherever you may be

And I lead you all in the dance, said he

Isn’t that a wonderful metaphor for faith . . . for describing that intimate relationship between us and God . . . a dance?

In the Gospel of John the writer expresses a new genesis . . . a new beginning . . . to a world that was filled with darkness and fear for the children of God.  The people were in the dark.  The writer offers to the people an invitation to step out of the darkness into the light . . . the light of the holy and cosmic dance floor . . . to dance . . . to dance with God.  That invitation comes in the form of Jesus—the Lord of the Dance.

Light is an appropriate image in this case.  Whenever life seems to get difficult and hard . . . whenever it seems daunting and scary . . . whenever it becomes violent and unjust . . . we said that it is the dark side of life that we are entering.  And, true, as humans that is a natural reaction whenever we are scared or anxious or in a crisis . . . our vision goes from panoramic to microscopic . . . the darkness sets in.  It is only through light that we can see . . . that we can see that we are loved . . . that we are desired . . . that we are not alone.  That God is with us, always with us.

That is what the writer of the Gospel of John is telling us.

Into the darkness of the world God has shined a light . . . has offered an invitation . . . an invitation to step out of the darkness and into the dance of life . . . to come into an intimate relationship with the One who loves us.  That invitation is extended to us through Jesus . . . God comes down . . . to show us the way.  In his words and in his actions throughout his life, Jesus shows us the way the way to live in relationship with God and with one another . . . shows us the way to dance the “dance of life.” 

In other words, we can’t be wallflowers any more . . . we are called to dance . . . to dance in the light which is the loving and intimate relationship with the God who loves us.

Well, I have been a lifetime wallflower . . . a person who fears dancing (which, by the way, is officially called “chorophobia”) . . . and, I am a little leery of that invitation to dance.  Leery because it means that I have to let loose and trust the one who is asking me to dance . . . trust that he or she is not going to laugh at my attempts at bogeying and dancing . . . trust that I am not going to embarrass myself or my dance partner . . . trust that he or she is going to be patient, kind, and graceful in showing me the steps . . . trust that I can let go and allow another to take the lead.  It has been a lifetime of struggle to just let go and to step out of the darkness into the light and to dance.  And, I think, that it is the same for most of us.

As I stated earlier, I have always been a wallflower when it came to dancing . . . been scared to step out there and let my inner Fred Astaire cut the rug; but, with age . . . and with grandchildren . . . that is changing.  With age I am learning that it really does not matter what other people think of my dancing . . . all that matters is that I am dancing . . . dancing with the partner who loves me for me—lousy dancer and all.  With grandchildren I am learning that they really do not care how I look when I dance . . . no, they just want to be held, swayed, and moved . . . embraced in a silly dance with someone who loves them.  As I step out onto the dance floor more and more, I find myself surrounded by laughter . . . laughter of joy . . . mine and that of those who love me.

Count God among those sharing in the laughter.

So, here is the deal . . . God wants to dance . . . wants to dance with each of us.  God wants us to step out of the darkness of being a wallflower and to hop out onto the dance floor of light and life.  God is even willing to show us how that dance is danced.  Through Jesus God shows us the way . . . makes the invitation . . . and calls us to dance in the light.  And this is our chance to step out of the darkness of being a wallflower and taking our rightful place in the family of God . . . this is our chance to step into the light of God’s grace and love so that we can shine.

    

Do you hear the invitation?

Dance, dance, wherever you may be

I am the lord of the dance, said he

And I lead you all, wherever you may be

And I lead you all in the dance, said he

In the Gospel of John the writer begins with the invitation from God: Shall we dance?  Shall we dance in the light of grace and love?  Shall we dance?  Amen.