Chosen Home (Luke 2:41-52)

Preacher: Emerson Braun, Minister to Children and Youth

Scripture: Luke 2:41-52

The Boy Jesus in the Temple

41 Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. 42 And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. 43 When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents were unaware of this. 44 Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. 45 When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. 46 After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. 47 And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. 48 When his parents saw him they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously looking for you.” 49 He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” 50 But they did not understand what he said to them. 51 Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them, and his mother treasured all these things in her heart 52 And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favor.

This is the word of God, for the people of God. (Thanks be to God)

This is one of my favorite stories of Jesus. This is one time we finally get to see Jesus as a child. Maybe a little bit of a smartalec. It gives rise to that age old question: do you think Jesus picked his nose? Do you think he bit his nails? Did the potty dance? Did he ever yell at his parents? Maybe throw out a “you’re not my real dad” just be hurtful?

My answer to most of these is probably. God among us. Living and learning just as we have done.

I think many of us have a childhood story of either running off to do something cooler or hiding as a child or a child that you were meant to be watching slipping off in the split second you turned around. My parents have many stories of me wandering off to where I was not supposed to be. 

Once in particular. My dad and I had gone to Cabelas and I was about 6 years old. I was getting bored and decided it was time for one of my classic games of hide and seek. I waited for my dad to turn around (because obviously if he saw where I hid there wouldn’t be a lot of seeking) and then I slipped into one of those circle clothing racks. After what felt like minutes but was likely seconds, I see my dad start to look for me. I didn’t peek my head out to watch him because if you can see them, they can see you. After a few minutes of him not being a good seeker, I start to think maybe he moved on to a different section so I come out of hiding and start to look for what section he had wandered off to when I see my dad looking panicked and talking with a worker (oops) then he sees me and runs up to me, hugs me “where were you? I was worried sick looking for you! You can’t do that to me!” “Why did you not know I was hiding in the circle clothes rack? It’s obviously the best hiding spot. Don’t you know me? I love a good game of hide and seek.” 

But alas, my father did not understand that I was born for hide and seek.

This story about Jesus as a 12 year old is powerful because it is relatable. Young people can often be found not where we expected them to be. 

It is powerful because it reminds us that young people are capable of so much more than we expect, and often in ways we forget to expect.

This story calls us to wonder:

How human was Jesus? When did Jesus understand that he was the son of God? Did his parents not fully understand that Jesus was the son of God?

Jesus’ parents, God bless them, were his parents for his whole life. When Mary was visited by Gabriel, of course she knew that she was to have a child that would change the course of history, perform miracles, be the Son of God, God made flesh. But then she had a little baby. Helpless, defenseless, that she and Joseph had to raise up. They had to feed him and clean him and teach him how to be a human and care for himself. 

So I can see why when Jesus is missing the first thing they are worried about is his safety. They’re not thinking about their son of 12 years being their savior. They have been his caretakers for 12 whole years of young child shenanigans. So it’s fair that they are not seeing him for who he is. It’s understandable that when he makes a profound statement about who he is and who God is, they aren’t paying attention

I wonder if that broke the heart of a young Jesus. He says I know who I am. I am the child of God. 

He only gets the chance to be in this temple once a year. Why would he not spend more time in the house of his father and discussing the matters most important to him.

You try tearing a 12 year old away from a conversation with people that have the same niche special interest. When I was 12 years old in the Library and gripped in a conversation about the roots of Greek mythology and how Rick Riordon beautifully showed what we have written down and how it might actually be played out in the Percy Jackson universe… I would personally have to be escorted out.

Jesus is finally around people that didn’t give him a bath or desperately try to get him to not yank their hair out. He is being respected by temple leaders for his wisdom.

The fact that Luke tells us that Jesus is twelve is significant. Thank you, Luke. How I am ever grateful for your clarity. Jesus was born and raised Jewish. Jesus was taught Hebrew scripture just like every other little Jewish boy. From ages 4-6 they learn how to read the Torah and from ages 7-10 they memorize it and gain high proficiency. So with every Jewish 10 year old having an advanced grasp of the Torah. The fact that temple leaders are amazed by his understanding should not be taken lightly. He is profoundly connected to divinity.

While jewish boys learn the scriptures to a high level by 10 years old, they are not considered responsible for following the torah until 13. This would be Bar Mitzvah. Son of the commandment. Many people mistake this story as his bar mitzvah but this is not the case. He is 12, he is still technically innocent and not held to the responsibilities of the torah.

So, Mary and Joseph are confused and tired from their journey and their worry. They don’t understand why Jesus hadn’t followed the plan, why they weren’t home yet. After all, he was still their God given responsibility. 

When questioned, Jesus says this temple is his fathers house. And therefore it is his house. He has claimed this space as his own. His chosen home. Somewhere that he can speak his mind and be understood. And not be brushed aside for other responsibilities.

Jesus in his response is jarring. Mary has bursted in, saw him, and exclaimed, why would you treat us this way? To which many of us in his shoes would say UH- oh Uh- I’m sorry! But he doesn’t. He is level headed if not slightly dipped in angst. Why were you searching for me? Why are you so stressed? Did you not know that I must be in my fathers house? Obviously.

I wonder if this story is inviting us to slow down. Perhaps instead of rushing to chastise and correct Jesus alongside his mother, we could take a deep breath. What if this story wants us to look past what he said and how he said it for what he’s saying. I wonder if a better question would have been “what are you doing here?” Instead of making an immediate judgment, what if this story means we need to leave space to listen to the wisdom and wonder of the youngest among us? What if we could trust our young people when they tell us who they are? Maybe we could know them better.

I was raised Southern Baptist and that tradition did so well to teach me how to study the Bible and how to ask questions. My teachers and peers however, did not necessarily like the questions I asked or the points I made. But in college, I found a little place called the Denton Wesley Foundation. Where they loved my questions, they admired the points I made, and honored the perspective that I brought to the table. They invited me into leadership and gave me opportunities to grow. It was quickly my chosen home. Somewhere I could bring my radical theological takes. Somewhere I could be wrong and have it met with discussion and not shame. A space for free thought, meals, and community. 

What do you think of when you think of home? And I don’t mean your house. I mean a home that you choose for yourself. I think of somewhere that I feel safe to be my whole self. Where I don’t feel like I have to just say what I’m expected to say or expected to say anything if I don’t want to. I think of somewhere I can show up tired or upset. Somewhere I can have tea or hot chocolate. I think of cats, and thick fuzzy blankets, and warm dinner. 

I wonder what it means that Jesus’ chosen home was his father’s house, the temple. I wonder if Jesus is not only telling us who he is but also that as a 12 year old he was being invited into the lifelong conversation of faith. What if he was being engaged in a way that recognized the image of God in him. What if this was the first time Jesus felt seen? I wonder how we can make space for our young people to feel seen and valued for the image of God in them. 

How can we take the time to invite our young people into the life long conversation of faith in our father’s house. Can we make room for doubts and silly questions and complex questions? Can we notice when our young people are not where we thought they would be and be okay with that? Can we go where they are? Can we follow them down a rabbit hole we didn’t know we signed up for? Can we trust our young people when they tell us who God is, who they are? I wonder how many doors that would open for us, the people that already have it all figured out.*stare*

Azle Christian Church, this is our father’s house. A place where we can come with our different perspectives and experiences and our different questions and our different answers. This is our beautiful, messy, sometimes leaky home. Where you can be who you are with us. Where we can search for meaning together. Where we can take a breath and be imperfect together. Where we honor those around us. Let it be so for the oldest to the youngest.    

Amen

Close to Home: Seeking Sanctuary (Luke 1:39-55)

Introit: Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence - 124

Call to Worship

Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley. To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here! 

This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing. 

We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. There is also a nursery available. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that a gift.

There are information cards in the pew in front of you—if you are a guest, or if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship. 

For those watching online or for those who would like to follow along, our liturgy for every service is posted on our website before the service begins.

Today was the last day of Sunday School of the year! Our classes will start back up again January 8th.

Our Christmas Eve service is this Saturday at 8 PM. This service has all the best things about Christmas Eve: a lively reading of the Christmas story, our favorite Christmas hymns, communion, and of course, our candlelit congregational singing of "Silent Night." The service will be 30 minutes and is open to all ages. Bring your family, come in your pjs, and be ready to sing the joy of Christ's birth.

And then a week from today, on Christmas morning, we will have a lessons and carols service at 11 AM! 

You can find all this information in your weekly eblast, on Facebook, in the insert in your bulletin, and on our calendar on our website.

Today is the fourth and final Sunday of Advent.

After our opening prayer, our godly play class will light our candle of love. 

Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.

Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.

Candle Lighting: Godly Play

This morning, we gather around the candle of love.

God’s love is like an open door.

God love is a warm bed to fall into.

God’s love is a table with room for you.

God’s love is a crackling fireplace.

God’s love is the sun that streams through the windows.

God’s love is the roof over our heads and ground beneath our feet.

God’s love is a home for you and me, for neighbors and strangers, for family and friends, for enemies and partners.

God’s love is a home for all.

Today we light the candle of love to remind us of this truth.

May it burn brightly in this space and even brighter in our hearts.

Amen.

One Candle is Lit v 4
Call to Worship: People, Look East - 142

Litany of Faith

One: With all my heart I glorify the Lord! In the depths of who I am I rejoice in God my savior.

All: You have looked with favor on the lowliness of Your servant. The Mighty One has done great things for us.

One: You show mercy to everyone, from one generation to the next, to all who honor You.

All: You have shown strength with Your arm. You have scattered those with arrogant thoughts and proud inclinations. 

One: You have pulled the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. 

All: You have filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed. 

(From Luke 1:46-53)

Pastoral Prayer

After Prayer: I Need Thee Every Hour - 578 v 1

Children’s Moment & Anthem - ACC Children’s Choir

Sermon: Seeking Sanctuary

Luke 1:39-55

39 In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, 40 where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit 42 and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. 43 And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? 44 For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”

46 And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,

47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

48 for God has looked with favor on the lowliness of God’s servant.

    Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;

49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me,

    and holy is your name.

50 In every age, 

    your compassion flows to those who reverence you. 

51 But all who seek to exalt themselves in arrogance

    will be leveled by power.

52 You have deposed the mighty from their seats of power,

    And have raised the lowly to high places.

53 Those who suffer hunger,

    You have filled with good things. 

    Those who are privileged,

     You have turned away empty-handed.

54 You have helped your servant Israel,

    in fulfillment of the promise you made to our ancestors,

55 to Abraham and Sarah and Hagar, and to their descendants forever.”

This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God. 

If you had to rank your top 5 Girl Power anthems, what would they be? 

Here’s mine:

1. Wannabe by Spice Girls, obviously. 

2. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper, a classic.

3. Run the World by Her Royal Highness, Beyonce.

4. I’m Every Woman by Chaka Khan, because well, that really covers things.

5. How Far I’ll Go from Disney’s Moana because I am a mom in 2022, and Disney is really putting out some bops.

We don’t have the melody for the songs we read today, but we do have the lyrics. Elizabeth’s blessing for Mary, mother of God. And Mary’s Magnificat, a song that is so powerful it has been banned many times for its revolutionary lyrics. 

During the British rule of India, the Magnificat was prohibited from being sung in church. In the 1980s, Guatemala’s government banned any public recitation of Mary’s words due to the way they incited the impoverished masses. In Argentina, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, whose children all disappeared during the Dirty War, placed the words of the Magnificat on posters throughout the capital plaza, and as a result, the military junta of Argentina outlawed any public display of the song.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, theologian and resistor of the Third Reich, who was eventually executed by the Nazis, wrote that “The song of Mary is the oldest Advent hymn. It is at once the most passionate, the wildest, one might even say the most revolutionary Advent hymn ever sung. This is not the gentle, tender, dreamy Mary whom we sometimes see in paintings…This song has none of the sweet, nostalgic, or even playful tones of some of our Christmas carols, It is instead a hard, strong, inexorable song about the power of God and the powerlessness of humankind.” 

As Christians, we tend to soften and spiritualize messages like Mary’s. She doesn’t really mean turning away the rich empty-handed. She doesn’t mean literally deposing the mighty from power. That’s like a metaphor or something. She means something that takes place in our hearts. 

But y’all, she means it. Mary, mother of God, she means it. And while Elizabeth doesn’t say anything too controversial in her song, the baby that leapt in her womb will say a lot of controversial things. We’ve already spent two Sundays listening to him rabble rouse. 

Advent is often marketed to us as cozy vibes. Hallmark movies. Sentimentality. Heavenly peace. Cuddly baby Jesus. The Holy Family warm in their stable with farm animals singing lullabies. 

But Advent is not really about that. We begin Advent every single year with the apocalypse. Just think about that. Get ready for baby Jesus by thinking about the end of the world. I personally love the drama of it. As someone with a lot of existential dread and nihilism walking side by side with my faith, I get to the first Sunday of Advent, and think, “Well, thank God we’re finally talking about it!!” 

So we shouldn’t be surprised by Mary’s song or the magic that happens when these two pregnant women get together. We should definitely not underestimate them. If you want to be a lover of God, you gotta get with God’s friends. Or more specifically, his mom. 

And now we are going to transition to a very exciting segment called Placenta. If me even uttering that word from the pulpit makes you squirmy, I get that. And I would apologize, but I’m not going to. If you are uncomfortable talking about the miracle of pregnancy, perhaps interrogate why that is. Disassociate for the next few minutes if you must.

But I will argue that one of the benefits to the church for having birthing people in the pulpit is that we can give firsthand accounts of the most miraculous event on the planet. We can speak to the arrival of God in the world that the other half of the population cannot. I gave birth during my second year of seminary, which means I delivered both a baby and the corresponding placenta while studying theology. I am woman, hear me roar. Mother Mary’s my girl.

So here’s some stuff you likely didn’t learn in health class.

When a person is pregnant, their uterus contains both the baby and the placenta. The placenta is an organ, and it becomes the life support system for the fetus, and it has a lot of important jobs: nourishing the fetus is number one priority. It is also responsible for swapping oxygen for carbon dioxide, eliminating waste, regulating the baby’s temperature, helping fight potential infections, and building immunity. But given its vital role, shockingly little is known about the placenta. 

It is only recently that scientists realized that this organ that is both part mother, part fetus, has a microbiome of its own that affects the health of the child the fetus will become for the rest of its life. Did you get that? The placenta affects the health of a person for the rest of its life. We are all still living out the consequences of the time we spent with a placenta in our mother’s uterus. 

The organ begins forming in the lining of the uterus as soon as a fertilized egg lands there, embedding itself deeply in the mother’s tissues and tapping into her arteries so aggressively that researchers liken it to cancer. Every minute, about 20 percent of the mother’s blood supply flows through the placenta. No wonder we’re so tired during pregnancy.

Trophoblasts are the generals of this placental invasion. They are a force to be reckoned with. They shove other cells out of the way and destroy them with digestive enzymes so that they can take over and start building the placenta. 

Not only are they brute warriors, they’re also wicked smart. Trophoblasts do something that no other cell normally does: they start making molecules that identify themselves to the mother’s body as being a blood vessel cell rather than a placental cell. They do this so that the mother’s body does not reject the organ being formed. 

The placenta does not technically belong to the mother. Our bodies create it, but it is part of the developing child, which means that 50 percent of the genetic material comes from the father—a foreign entity. 

The organ, and the fetus, are both foreign to the mother’s body, yet her body tolerates them. 

I mean think about that. For those of you who know about organ transplants, you’ll know that when an organ is transplanted into a human body, the patient must go through aggressive immune system suppression with drugs so that the new organ can be accepted, because our bodies’ natural response to a foreign organ is to reject it.

Yet the placenta tricks the mother’s cells into thinking it’s all her genetic material so that her body does not reject it. Scientists are now researching how the placenta works in order to better transplant other organs and prevent rejection.

This organ is the site of the first methods of communication between mother and baby. It’s the site of their first connection. And it’s also the site of their first conflict because it must negotiate how much of the nutrients to siphon off from the mother in order to give to the baby. And because the health of the placenta directly affects the development of the baby, it is a liminal space of past (mother and father), the present (the developing baby), and the future (the baby’s health outcomes throughout its life). It reaches back into the mother’s body while making future generations possible. 

When Mary says, “from now on all generations will call me blessed,” she might as well have been singing, “I’m every woman. It’s all in me.”

It is not just that Jesus was named the Son of God that makes Jesus who he is. It is also because he is the Son of Mary. 

On a cellular level, Mary and Jesus are communicating in this moment of the Magnificat.

Mary was a poor Jewish girl in Rome. When she thought about deposing the mighty in power, she meant literally. When she talked about the hungry being fed and the privileged sent away empty-handed, she meant literally. And so did Jesus. 

These are not songs to make polite people, compliant children, dutiful citizens. They are radicalizing anthems for an oppressed people. They have been banned by authoritarian governments, for God’s sake. 

We might feel like we don’t have to take it seriously because it’s a young woman saying it or it’s a pregnant lady saying it, or it’s just a proud mama bragging on her baby. But we would do well to remember the words of Mary when she says, “all who seek to exalt themselves in arrogance will be leveled by power.” In other words, be humble, because the overturning of the world is coming for us all.

Like the placenta, Mary’s prophetic word is like a chameleon. Her growing belly tricks us into thinking Jesus is exactly like us. Jesus is of our genetic material. His ways are our ways. He will go about things the way we expect him to.

But do not be deceived—it’s a trick. Because his ways are very different. How we encounter Jesus is the site of connection, between us and God. And it is also the site of conflict. It is where our fears and insecurities and greed rub up against the Holy One’s desire for the world. 

The reign of God means systems gets turned upside down. Literally. A leveling. Mary and Elizabeth will deliver their babies and return to their lives forever changed, and the world will be forever changed because of their bodies. In the words of the prophet Beyonce, “strong enough to bear the children and then get back to business.”

So what do we do with their songs? If they’re not mere sentimentality, if we’re supposed to take them literally, what are we supposed to do? We, a mostly white, middle-class Western congregation in North Texas? 

Perhaps we can start with the things in our collectives lives that we tend to discount. Consider that God’s arrival came with morning sickness. The incarnation of the Most Holy One likely brought on varicose veins. But hidden in this uncomfortable experience, in a growing belly and the waddle of a tiny woman, was the Divine. 

So we must ask ourselves

Where do we disqualify sites of the Divine? Where do we just assume that God is not working because it’s not how we’ve seen it before?

At what manifestations of community and justice do we roll our eyes? 

Where do we sigh in exasperation at the young, the different, and the skeptics and say, “When will you get in line?” 

Where are we missing God by dismissing others for their age, their class, the way they inhabit their body? 

Some of you in this room have been walking with God for a long time. You’ve seen a lot. You may think you know a lot. And you probably do. But let this be a reminder that there is so much you don’t know. There is so much that you cannot know on your own and must learn from others unlike you. Younger than you. Different than you. Wilier than you. With values and goals that diverge from yours. 

It’s never too late to become like a little baby again. It’s never too late to let ourselves be nourished and formed by a force so formidable and so clever, yet so tender as to give itself up when it is time for us to be born.

Because here’s one more thing about placenta. It gives itself over to death when it has finished its job. The placenta does not survive outside the womb, apart from the baby and the mother. It serves a purpose, a worthy, inimitable purpose, and then it gives itself over to the natural process of life and death. 

As we come to the end of Advent and prepare to welcome baby Jesus, the incarnation of God’s Own Self into the world, we are called to consider not just the beginning, but also the end. Our beginning, and our end. 

The beginning of Advent tells us to pay attention. To keep watch. To stay alert. Don’t let the lullabies of Christmas lull you into thinking all is well. 

Because the end of Advent tells us that Mary means business. The powers she is talking about will try to kill her baby and will one day succeed. 

So that in the story of Advent, death and birth are companions. 

When Christ is born, what must die? 

When Christ is born, what powers must be deposed? 

When Christ is born, what privilege must be sent away empty? 

When Christ is born, to whom we will give our attention? 

Because the answers to these questions will determine our lives. 

Amen.

After Sermon: May You Find a Light - Insert

Sharing Our Resources

There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. You can give online on our website, on Venmo, or in the offering plate as the deacons come by during our final song.

Invitation 

If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.

Benediction:

Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.

Receive this blessing….

May Mary’s song and Elizabeth’s faith,

And the lives of their babies,

Give us courage to embrace the world you are making. 

Help us recognize the unlikely places you appear,

In those we are often quick to dismiss,

Ignore, forget, or turn away. 

Amen.

Benediction: O Day of Peace - Insert

Doxology

Close to Home: A Home for All (Luke 3:1-18)

I Come With Joy - 420

Call to Worship

Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley. To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here! 

This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing. 

We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. There is also a nursery available. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that a gift.

There are information cards in the pew in front of you—if you are a guest, or if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship. 

For those watching online or for those who would like to follow along, our liturgy for every service is posted on our website before the service begins.

We invite you to Sunday School at 10 AM every week. There’s classes that meet in the Seekers room and the Parlor. There is also a combined children and youth class that meets in the MUB. Godly Play meets behind the sanctuary for our younger elementary students.

As we make plans for the holidays, be sure to make plans to be here for our Christmas Eve service at 8 PM. It will be a 30 minute, family-friendly service that ends with our favorite tradition: a candlelit rendition of “Silent Night.”

And then Christmas morning, we will have a lessons and carols service at 11 AM! Come in your Christmas pjs or sweaters, grab a donut, and join us for all your beloved Christmas hymns. There will be no Sunday School that day.

You can find all this information in your weekly eblast, on Facebook, in the insert in your bulletin, and on our calendar on our website.

Today is the third Sunday of Advent.

After our opening prayer, ____ will light our candle of joy. 

Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.

Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.

Candle Lighting: Youth Group

This morning, we gather around the candle of joy.

Joy is seeing people you love after months apart.

Joy is hearing, “Come on over! It’s been too long.”

Joy is the stretches and giggles of a newborn baby.

Joy is making it home after a journey too long.

Joy is your dog wiggling to meet you at the door.

Joy is the energy of a new season.

Joy is feeling found when you thought you were lost.

Today we light the candle of joy, because the welcome God has for us is nothing short of joyful.

Rest in that good news and let it wash over you.

Family of faith, we are close to home. Joy is coming. Amen.

One Candle is Lit - 128 v 3

Of the Parent’s Heart Forgotten - Insert

Litany of Faith

One: On that day this must be the message to Jerusalem: Fear not, Zion, let not your hands hang limp in despair, for the LORD your God is in your midst, a warrior to keep you safe.

All: God will rejoice over you and be glad of it. 

One: The LORD will show you love once more, and exult over you with loud singing. God will soothe those who are grieving. 

All: At the appointed time, the LORD will take away your cries of woe and you will no longer endure reproach. 

One: When that time comes, God will deal with all who oppress you; the LORD will rescue the lost and gather the dispersed. 

All: When that time comes, God will gather you and bring you home. The LORD will restore your fortunes before your eyes. It is Yahweh God who speaks.

(From Zephaniah 3:16-20)

Pastoral Prayer

The Lord be with you.

Join me in prayer.

God of open doors and porch lights,

Of welcome mats and candles in the window—

We cannot thank you enough for your open door policy.

You are forever welcoming us home.

In a world that puts hand rails on park benches so that those without a roof over their heads cannot lay down, you offer something radically different.

You welcome all of us, just as we are.

You paint a picture of a world that could be.

You remind us that there is enough love to go around, and that neighbor helping neighbor is who we are called to be. 

Thank you for the voice in the wilderness that calls to us.

Thank you for the radical welcome and the unchanging love.

Today, God, we give extra thanks for the people and places that are home to us, but we also pray for all those without a home.

We pray for immigrants and refugees navigating the waters of trauma, change, and loss. We pray for those who experience homelessness and for those scraping together every coin to pay last month’s rent. We pray for those who do not feel at home in their body. We pray for those who do not feel at home in your church—wounded by strict rules or judgmental accusations. We pray for those who long to build a home with another, but instead find themselves eating another meal alone. 

God, there are so many who need a home, so help us be builders of that new day. Give us the courage of John, who saw a way forward so clearly. Turn our words into action and our conviction into change. 

Gracious God, you are a God who of open doors and welcome home celebrations. Teach us to be the same. 

We ask it in the name of the one for which we wait, Jesus, who gave us this prayer…

Our Father, who art in heaven

Hallowed be Thy name

Thy Kingdom come

Thy will be done

On earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever. 

Amen.

Abide With Me - 636 v 1

Children’s Moment

Anthem - O Holy Night - Chris Piercy and Nicole Hendley

Sermon: A Home for All

Luke 3:1-18

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2 during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the way of the Lord;

    make his paths straight.

5 Every valley shall be filled,

    and every mountain and hill shall be made low,

and the crooked shall be made straight,

    and the rough ways made smooth,

6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’ ”

7 John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Therefore, bear fruits worthy of repentance, and do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.”

10 And the crowds asked him, “What, then, should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

15 As the people were filled with expectation and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

18 So with many other exhortations he proclaimed the good news to the people.

This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.

Ah, John the Baptist, the radical cousin of Jesus who lives in the woods and eats bugs and shouts at people walking by. What a buzzkill, right? 

John’s birth story is well-documented in the book of Luke. He was born too late to parents too old. He the patron saint of spiritual joy, and perhaps it’s because of the event when his elderly pregnant mother encountered a pregnant Mary, and he leapt for joy in her womb at being in close proximity to the coming Messiah. 

Due to his miraculous birth story—nearly as miraculous as Jesus’ own arrival—people saw him as a sign of God’s work in the world. The expectations were high for this family. What would John grow up to do, his parents might have wondered as his mother’s belly grew. 

Would he serve as a priest, helping cultivate connection to God for his fellow Jewish brothers and sisters? Would he make an impact in the humble service of carpentry like his cousin would, talking to ordinary people about the goodness of God? Or would he be like Simeon and Anna, prophets residing in the temple, ushering in God’s presence? 

Well, imagine his parents’ disappointment that he was loud and at times, obnoxious and rude, shouting at the very religious leaders they were hoping he would emulate.

His call was to prepare the way for the one to come, who we would understand to be Jesus. 

And so John lives off the radar, in the woods, where crowds gather and surprisingly, want to hear what he has to say. Not one for hospitality, he shouts at them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you of the coming wrath?”

He tells them to bear fruit worthy of repentance. And he calls out their self-justification, their claims of, “Well, we have Abraham as our ancestor, so I think we’ll be fine. Or our family has a lot of history around these parts, or our roots go deep, so maybe slow your roll, Johny boy. 

He then tells them something audacious, them being the Very Religious Persons, the VRPs. He says that you cannot dismiss God’s ongoing call on your life with some of kind of appeal to heritage. John points to the stones and says, “Heritage? Ha! God can makes these stones the sons and daughters of Abraham if God needs to.”

He tells them the ax is waiting to be pulled back to chop down the tree with the deep roots they boast about! I can imagine the people in the crowd saying, “We came all the way out here for this?”

But miraculously, the people are curious about this confrontation. So, John, what then should we do? they ask. How do we bear fruit worthy of repentance? How do we avoid the coming wrath? 

And so he proclaimed the good news to the people, our text ends.

I don’t know what you heard as I was reading the scripture earlier, but a lot of it did not feel like good news. Not sure where Luke got that. 

Except perhaps, we should think about the concept of good news, more specifically, the gospel, which comes from the Greek word, euangelion, which is where we get our word evangelism.  

What qualifies as “good news” anyway? It’s good to interrogate this idea every once in awhile. 

Let’s start with the word “news.” News does not necessarily equal information. 

Take for example this fun fact: The species of fungus in the genus Penicillium known as penicillium rubens inhibits the growth of the bacteria staphylococcus aureus. 

That fact is certainly information, but it has nothing to do with me this morning. What am I supposed to do with that information? It’s not news. 

Because news is not simply information. It has to be relevant to the one receiving it. So that means it needs to be contextual and specific. Now say I had bacterial growth from the bacteria staphylococcus aureus in my body, otherwise known as a staph infection. That information is news. Because it is contextual and specific to me, and I did not know it before.

But news also needs to be dependent on something. If I had a staph infection, I would be in a predicament. People die from staph infections, which is nuts because they’re very easy to get. This information would become news that would require a response. What am I going to do about this staph infection? What are my options? If I choose to do nothing about it, that’s still a response. 

And before we move on, news is not a direct equivalent of truth. Something can be true but not news. If I found out three weeks ago that I had staph infection and had since taken action to treat it, and you came up and told me today, “Ashley, you have a staph infection.” That would be true. But it wouldn’t be news. It wouldn’t require a response from me. It would not put me in a predicament. 

Likewise if you told your cousin in California that a person in Texas had a staph infection, but don’t worry your cousin doesn’t, that is not news. Because it does not put your cousin in a predicament or require a response. My predicament does not affect your cousin.

So news has to be contextual, specific, and dependent on a response. 

But we also need to consider the credibility of the giver of the news. 

If a person walked up to me on the street and said, “You have a staph infection,” I would keep walking because what does that person know? But if my doctor told me after a series of tests, then I would listen. Because she had done the due diligence to find out that information about me and deliver it. Now the person on the street could have been telling me the truth that I would later find out from my doctor, but because that person does not have credibility to deliver this news in my eyes, then it’s not news. 

And finally, the news has to be possible. If staphylococcus aureus did not cause a staph infection, then a doctor telling me that I had a staph infection wouldn’t be true. It wouldn’t be news. 

Okay, I think we’ve established what “news” is.

So what about the “good” part?

Well, that initial piece of information becomes relevant. If the species of fungus called penicillium rubens inhibits growth of the bacteria known as staphylococcus aureus, then that means my staph infection can be treated easily with the medicine derived from that fungus, a medication we know today as Penicillin. 

That is good news because it saves my life. It solves my predicament. It affects me directly. 

Not only is that information credible because it has been tested since the early 20th century, but it is also very possible. Penicillin is the most prevalent antibiotic in the world. 

So then how is what John is saying, shouting really, good news? 

First: he acknowledges the specific context the people are in. It’s the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee. These are names you may recognize from Jesus’ story. This tells us that what John has to say is taking place under the reign of powerful political rulers and servants of Rome. 

And there’s another piece of contextual information that is relevant: John received his call from God during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, which means that the work of John, and ultimately Jesus, is in opposition to the priestly hierarchy. 

So that not only is John going up against political powers, but also religious powers, which we know sometimes overlap.

John’s call is borrowed from the prophet Isaiah: to prepare the way of the Lord so that every valley shall be filled, every mountain and hill made low, a grand leveling. The crooked shall be made straight, the rough ways smooth. And all flesh shall see the salvation of God, including those present in the religious assemblies, and those absent.

And John speaks to the Very Religious People, the VRPs, and says not a new thing really, but reminds them of the religious call already on their lives. To repent and repair. To change what they have been doing for eons. He makes it clear that he sees no value in their familial heritage. You’ve got family roots here? Who cares? You’ve got history around these parts? Doesn’t matter. What matters is not what you’ve done or what your family has done in the past, but what you are doing right now, what fruit you are producing right now. 

His directions are concrete and practical: build a home that requires everyone sharing. Establish relationships of trust, not interactions of manipulation and power imbalance. 

And the hard thing of what he is saying is that this building of a home for all may require some deconstruction. 

John the Baptist is judgy as hell, but judgment does not necessarily equate to  condemnation. To judge something means to see it clearly. And he’s calling them to see clearly. To notice the structures that are rotting. To notice when the institutions have compromised to survive. To notice which rituals and routines and traditions need to be repaired, reformed, or even put to rest. 

So this is definitely news, right? It’s specific, contextual, contingent—it requires a response. It comes from a credible source—one who is called by God, whose family line is priestly, who is Jewish to the bone, who is indeed the cousin of the Promised One. 

But is it good? 

It may not feel good to the Very Religious People. To the people who have memories of how things have always been, to the ones who have a stake in things remaining the same. It may feel like bad news. Trees cut down. Winnowing forks and unquenchable fire.

But consider this: penicillium rubens is not good news to staphylococcus aureus. That fungus kills the bacteria. But it is good news to the host of the bacteria, isn’t it? And who is the ultimate receiver of John’s news? It’s not just the religious leaders. 

It’s “all flesh.” It’s those in the valleys. It’s those in the rough parts. If we are truly making a home for all, that means some will not be privileged in the way that they are used to. 

In means that some will not be prioritized over others simply because they and their family have been around forever. It means that some will no longer be able to wield their power in their favor whenever they please. It means that some voices will not be given the mic anymore.

But that is because other voices that have not been heard will finally be able to speak. It means that power will be redistributed so that those with lots of power have some taken from them and it is given to those with no power. 

It means that those who have no history here or hail from somewhere far away will be given equal access. It means that those who are routinely disenfranchised and overlooked and ignored and exploited will finally have their moment. 

So that all flesh will see the salvation of God. And here’s the good news for all of us: we are all better for it when the mountains are laid low and the valley are lifted. Most of us are mountain folk. That doesn’t mean our lives haven’t been difficult or we haven’t had challenges or disadvantages. But it does mean that we haven’t had to face those challenges in a floodplain. 

And us mountain folk, us Very Religious People, are called to pay attention to the structures that are rotting. To notice when the institution has compromised to survive. To discern which rituals and routines and traditions need to be repaired, reformed, or even put to rest. That is no easy task. It is painful and difficult. It is hard to see ourselves clearly. But it is a worthy task, a gospel task, a truly Advent task.

Sometimes good news feels like bad news until we zoom out and see it from the perspective of the reign of God. 

It’s true that John the Baptist will always be a buzzkill. But he’s not saying anything that’s not 100% bonafide gospel. 

And we rejoice because we are people of God. And we get to participate in the collective construction and repair of the world God wants. 

Wherever there is a leveling, wherever their is repair, wherever there is repentance, there is God. And where there is God, there is joy. 

Amen.

O God of Peace, You Sent Us John - Insert

http://www.carolynshymns.com/o_god_of_peace_you_sent_us_john.html

Sharing Our Resources

There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. You can give online on our website, on Venmo, or in the offering plate as the deacons come by during our final song.

Invitation 

If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.

Benediction:

Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.

Receive this blessing….

May the God who welcomes us home,

Who creates a place,

Who has a chair with our name on it,

Fill our hearts with audacious hope for a better world,

And may we use our gifts to move us closer to that promised day.

Amen.

O Day of Peace - Insert

Doxology

Close to Home: Laying the Foundation (Luke 1:57-80)

Introit: Emmanuel - 134

Call to Worship

Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley. To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here! 

This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing. 

We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. There is also a nursery available. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that a gift.

There are information cards in the pew in front of you—if you are a guest, or if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship. 

For those watching online or for those who would like to follow along, our liturgy for every service is posted on our website before the service begins.

We invite you to Sunday School at 10 AM every week. There’s classes that meet in the Seekers room and the Parlor. There is also a combined children and youth class that meets in the MUB. Godly Play meets behind the sanctuary for our younger elementary students.

Our annual congregational meeting is today immediately following service. If you’re a member, the Board asks you to stay for the brief meeting and vote.

Following the congregational meeting, the DWM Christmas Party will take place in the Fellowship Hall from 1-3 PM.

As we make plans for the holidays, be sure to make plans to be here for our Christmas Eve service at 8 PM. It will be a 30 minute, family-friendly service that ends with our favorite tradition: a candlelit rendition of “Silent Night.”

And then Christmas morning, we will have a lessons and carols service at 11 AM! Come in your Christmas pjs or sweaters, grab a donut, and join us for all your beloved Christmas hymns. There will be no Sunday School that day.

You can find all this information in your weekly eblast, on Facebook, in the insert in your bulletin, and on our calendar on our website.

Today is the second Sunday of Advent.

After our opening prayer, representatives from the Sunday School class that meets in the Parlor will light our candle of peace. 

Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.

Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.

Candle Lighting: Parlor Class

This morning, we gather around the candle of peace.

The home we long for is a home that knows peace—

Peace that rests between us and our grief,

Peace around our anxiety,

Peace between us and our self-criticism,

Peace in the midst our relationships,

Peace at the core of our being,

Peace hovering over our world.

So today, we light the candle of peace—as a reminder and as a prayer.

Let it be so. Amen. 

Candle lighting: One Candle is Lit - 128 v 2

Call to worship: Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing - 16

Litany of Faith

One: I thank my God every time I mention you in my prayers. It is always a prayer of joy for the way you have been my partners in the ministry of the gospel.

All: We are sure about this one thing: the One who started a good work in you will stay with you to complete the job by the day of Christ Jesus. 

One: This is my prayer: that your love might become even more and more rich with knowledge and all kinds of insight.

All: We pray that you will be able to decide what really matters and that you will be sincere and blameless on the day of Christ.

One: I pray that you will be filled with the fruit of righteousness, which comes from Jesus Christ, in order to give glory and praise to God.

All: We are all partners in God’s grace. 

(Adapted from Philippians 1:3-10)

Pastoral Prayer

The Lord be with you.

Since it’s the first Sunday of the month, we will sing the Lord’s Prayer, which is #310 in your hymnal.

Join me in prayer.

God of days gone by, and God of the here and now—

We understand the story of Zechariah. 

We know what it’s like to be speechless. 

We know what it’s like to be awestruck.

We know what it’s like to change plans and leave everyone whispering.

What we don’t always know is what the next right step is. We crave your voice in our ear—guiding our steps, revealing the way.

So today, God, we pause to give you thanks for the things that leave us speechless—

For signs of new life,

For the moments when the doctors says the scan is clear,

For the family that runs to meet us at the airport and welcomes us home,

For every small miracle and concentrated beauty in our life—

We are awestruck.

We are speechless.

We are so deeply grateful.

But in between whispers of deep gratitude are those o fun who are speechless for other reasons.

We are speechless because of the suffering and despair, grief and loss, violence and injustice in our world.

With every life taken from us too soon, we lose our breath.

With every threat of violence, we lose our words.

With every updated report on climate change, we lose our peace.

And the cycle goes on and on.

Creator God, who breathed life into us, move between us and our despair. Give us a voice to speak gratitude in the face of beauty, and justice in the face of destruction. Give us words to heal where there is hurt and to invite where there is isolation.

There are so many things that leave us speechless, O God, but we never lose your words of love and hope. So today, we sing the prayer Jesus taught us to pray…

After prayer: The Lord’s Prayer - 310

Children’s Moment

Anthem: Open Up - Nicole Hendley

Sermon: Laying the Foundation

Luke 1:57-80

57 Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. 58 Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.

59 On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. 60 But his mother said, “No; he is to be called John.” 61 They said to her, “None of your relatives has this name.” 62 Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. 63 He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, “His name is John.” And all of them were amazed. 64 Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. 65 Fear came over all their neighbors, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. 66 All who heard them pondered them and said, “What then will this child become?” For indeed the hand of the Lord was with him.

67 Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied:

68 “Blessed are you, the Most High God of Israel,

    For you have visited your people and redeemed them.

69 You have raised up a mighty savior for us

    Of the house of David,

70 as you promised through the mouth of your holy ones, the prophets of ancient times:

71 salvation from our enemies and from the hands of all our foes.

72 You have shown the mercy promised to our ancestors

    By remembering the holy Covenant you made with them,

73 the oath that you swore to Sarah and Abraham, granting

74  that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,

might serve you without fear, 75 in holiness and justice in your presence all our days.

76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High,

    for you will go before the Lord to prepare the way for the Promised One,

77 giving people the knowledge of salvation

    by the forgiveness of their sins.

78 Because of the tender mercy of our God,

    Who from on high, will bring the Rising Sun to visit us,

79 to give light to those who live in darkness and the shadow of death,

    to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

80 The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly to Israel.

This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.

I’m going to tell you 6 short stories. All of them are true. 

The first three are from the New York Times this past week.

1. “The European Union’s top official on Wednesday proposed the establishment of a new United Nations-backed court to investigate and prosecute Russian aggression in Ukraine, an idea reflecting growing calls in Kyiv and the West for holding Moscow accountable in a specialized tribunal for atrocities committed during the war.”

2. “The assassination of Haiti’s president last year set off a new wave of terror across the Caribbean nation. But conditions in the country have plunged to horrifying new lows in recent months, as gangs carried out such extreme violence that the carnage has been compared to civil war.”

3. “Protests calling for widespread social and political change that erupted in September have led to a brutal crackdown by Iran’s security forces, with more than 14,000 people arrested, according to the United Nations. At least 326 people have been killed, according to Iran Human Rights, a Norway-based NGO. The demonstrations began following the death of Mahsa Amini, known by her first Kurdish surname Jina, in the custody of Iran’s morality police and have been primarily led by women.” 

And now I offer you the other three stories:

1. The author and actor Rob Delaney recently wrote a book about losing his young son to a brain tumor and in it, he describes a conversation he had with a volunteer at the hospital who brought around therapy dogs. And Rob says, if you’re reading this book because someone you love is sick or if you’re sick and in the hospital, remember that playing with a dog is just as important, just as valuable as your chemo. Now the cynic inside me thinks, “B.S. Hyperbole. Whatever.” But then he says, playing with a dog is just as important as your physical strategies to get better because it works right now. If being present is important, if being present is all we actually have, then something that heals you in the moment is valuable. 

2. When I was in seminary, I tried a lot of activities. One of them was Silent Sitting, which is exactly what it sounds like. We sat in silence for 20 minutes every Thursday morning in a room full of meditation cushions. At the end of the excruciatingly long 20 minutes, our leader, who was a literal Zen master, would end our silence with this phrase: “We offer our sitting for the peace of the world.” And I’m going to be honest, the first couple of times she said that, I thought, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” But after sitting for a few months, I started to believe her. I started to believe that our silent sitting was contributing to the peace of the world in some way.

3. When I was pregnant with my daughter, Annie, I made a playlist of lullabies I would one day sing to her. The two that get the most airtime and are what she now calls her goodnight songs are “Dear Theodosia” from the musical, Hamilton, and “Have You Ever” by Brandi Carlile. I’m just going to read some of the lyrics of those songs:

“Dear Theodosia, what to say to you? 

You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name

When you came into the world, you cried

And it broke my heart

You will come of age with our young nation

We’ll bleed and fight for you

We’ll make it right for you

If we lay a strong enough foundation,

We’ll pass it on to you

We’ll give the world to you 

And you’ll blow us away.”

……… 

“Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods

And everything feels just as it should

You’re part of the life there

You’re part of something good

If you’ve wandered lonely through the woods.”

I didn’t realize it then, but these lullabies have become the prayers for the life I hope for for my daughter. One of wonder and peace, one of the freedom to wander lonely through the woods without fear. A life where she is secure. 

In our text for today Zechariah sings a song of imagination for the life of his son, John. He has been mute ever since he found out he and his wife were going to have a baby in their old age. 

And now, the baby has been born, and Elizabeth has decided to name him John, rather than after his father, Zechariah. It is a break from family tradition and also signals a break from the family business. John will grow up not to be a priest like his father, but rather a prophet, and a wily one at that. 

And then, the text tells us, Zechariah’s mouth is opened and he sings a song where he imagines the world his son will live in. 

He begins by recalling God’s promises and describing the presence of God among the people: the God who has visited Zechariah’s people and redeemed them, who has sent the Chosen One, John’s own cousin, to bring about salvation and mercy and forgiveness. 

And he envisions the life his son will lead: one of a prophet, who prepares the way for the Promised One. Who will bring light and tender mercy, and who will guide their feet into the way of peace.

And what does that peace look like, according to Zechariah’s song? That his people could serve God without fear, in holiness and justice in God’s presence all of their days. 

For Zechariah, peace is not just freedom from violence and oppression. Peace is not just quiet and order. It’s a heart that is open, unrestrained by hate and fear, unfettered by poverty and hunger. There’s bandwidth to be still, to close one’s eyes, to take time to serve others. 

Today we lit the candle of peace. Nicole sang a prayer on our behalf that we may be instruments of peace. And we read Zechariah’s dream of peace. 

But I don’t think any of us are under any illusions that we live in a peaceful world. I read just three stories of peace from the newspaper, but I whittled it down from ten. We don’t even have to look beyond our own borders to know that the world is unwell and that peace does not reign supreme.

But I don’t think Zechariah was under any illusion that he lived in a peaceful world either. By the time Luke’s Gospel was written, the Romans had destroyed the Jerusalem temple and news about Jesus had begun to spread beyond Palestine to pockets throughout the Roman Empire. Things were not much better at the time of Jesus’ birth. 

And yet somehow, this song of peace, God’s peace, stands in striking contrast to the peace of Roman Caesars, during whose reign John and Jesus are both born and executed. 

When we rehearse the coming of Christ at Advent, we aren’t merely hoping that peace will somehow work itself out. We aren’t banking on human rulers to ensure the peace of all. 

Rather, we are practicing peace in our spaces. We are doing the things that make for justice, that is the holy work of God, no matter how difficult or tricky, because we believe in God’s presence among us. We are part of the fulfillment of God’s promises by acting as if they are already true, thus making them true. 

The late Fred Rogers said, “In the external scheme of things, shining moments are as brief as the twinkling of an eye, yet such twinkling are what eternity is made of—moments when we human beings can say, “I love you,’ ‘I’m proud of you,’ ‘I forgive you,’ ‘I’m grateful for you.’ That’s what eternity is made of: invisible imperishable good stuff.”

We may not have the power to draw up international peace treaties or provide extensive humanitarian aid to the neediest around the world. 

But we can make peace in our tiny corners of the world. 

When we are petting a dog, or a cat, or we have cast our line into the water waiting for the fish, we know we have not fixed the world’s problems. We have not yet achieved world peace. But we have found peace in that moment, and that’s not nothing. 

When we choose to engage in 20 minutes of silent sitting, or a daily walk, or listening to our beloved with alzheimer’s or a young child chatter on, we have chosen peace over something else. With that choice, we have said no to many things including escalation, provocation, and fortification. And that makes a difference. 

And when we ache in the middle of the night for what the world will be, for the world our children and grandchildren and nephews and nieces and young friends will inherit, when we sing over them, when we pray over them, when we hope for something gentler, softer, and more tender for them than what we know now, we are expecting and awaiting and giving contours to what the world could be. We are dreaming a world into being. 

Our prayers become our hands become the infrastructure become the peace that Zechariah dreamed about, that God dreams about.

May the cruelty and brutality of the world, the things that keep us up at night, the things that turn our stomachs into knots, be met, at least some of the time, with our prayers of amity, our work of justice, our hope for all to find God in peace. Amen.

After Sermon: Zechariah’s Lullaby - Insert

Sharing Our Resources

There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. You can give online on our website, on Venmo, or in the offering plate as the deacons come by during our final song. 

Invitation 

If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.

Benediction:

Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.

Our benediction his morning comes from the famous prayer by St. Francis of Assisi.

Receive this blessing….

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

Benediction: O Day of Peace - Insert

Close to Home: Homesick (Luke 21:25-36)

Introit: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel - 119

Call to Worship

Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley. To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here! 

This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing. 

We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. There is also a nursery available. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that a gift.

There are information cards in the pew in front of you—if you are a guest, or if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship. 

For those watching online or for those who would like to follow along, our liturgy for every service is posted on our website before the service begins.

We invite you to Sunday School at 10 AM every week. There’s classes that meet in the Seekers room and the Parlor. There is also a combined children and youth class that meets in the MUB. Godly Play meets behind the sanctuary for our younger elementary students.

Our annual congregational meeting is next Sunday, December 4th, immediately following service. Please make every effort to attend.

Following the congregational meeting, the DWM Christmas Party will take place in the Fellowship Hall from 1-3 PM.

If you didn’t last week, be sure to pick up your Advent materials to take home that coincide with our Advent worship series, Close to Home. There is an Advent calendar, a daily devotional replete with poetry, hymns, art work, and devotional material. And there are coloring pages for grown-up that go with the artwork you see displayed on the chancel. 

You can find all this information in your weekly eblast, on Facebook, in the insert in your bulletin, and on our calendar on our website.

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, which means we turn the page on another year in our church calendar. So first, happy New Year, church!

If you’re new to Advent at Azle Christian Church, you’ll find our Advent services to be robust—we have a few extra pieces to our liturgy each week include candle lighting and poetry. This week, you will be invited up to take communion by intinction (don’t worry—they are individuals cups so no spreading of germs) and to receive an ornament to place on our tree in the back as our final step in preparing the sanctuary for Advent. We will remind you of this at the time of communion, but if you are not able to come up for communion, please stay in your seat and a deacon will serve you. We will begin our service with prayer like we always do, no matter what season we’re in.

After our opening prayer, the Seekers’ Class will light our candle of hope.

Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.

Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.

Call to Worship: When God Is a Child - 132

Candle Lighting: Seekers Class

We light the candle of hope because hope keeps our hearts alive as we wait.

We hope for a world where all are fed.

We hope for a world with more bridges than walls.

We hope for a world with wide open doors.

We hope for a world with contagious laughter.

We hope for a world where trees grow tall and rivers run clean.

We hope for a world where all people feel at home—in their bodies, in the church, in their physical homes.

We hope for that world.

We long for that world.

We are homesick for that world.

May this light be a reminder that the wait is always worth it.

May we carry this light of hope with us for this Advent season and always.

Amen.

Verse 1 of One Candle is Lit - 128

Litany of Faith

One: How can we thank God enough for you, for all the joy we feel before God on your account?

All: We earnestly pray night and day to be able to see you again.

One: May our loving Abba God and Jesus, our Savior, direct our steps back to you.

All: May Christ increase to overflowing our love for one another and for all people.

One: May Christ strengthen our hearts, making them blameless and holy before our Abba God.

All: May our hearts be strengthened, blameless, and holy for the coming of our Savior Jesus.

(From 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13)

Pastoral Prayer

The Lord be with you.

Join me in prayer.

Gracious God, 

We find ourselves with two options every day—

To stay homesick for the world you had in mind, or to allow cynicism to win.

Do we hope against hope, or throw in the towel?

Do we insist on a better world, or do we assume it’s impossible?

Forgive us for the days when cynicism wins.

Forgive us for numbing our homesick hurt instead of using it to fuel a better world.

Kindle us in hope that won’t let go.

God of the weary and waiting.

Scripture tells us that where two or more are gathered, you are there. 

So we trust that you are here—listening to these words, drawing us close, stirring hope awake in us. 

Today, Holy God, we feel close to home, close to you, when 

We enter this space and someone knows our name.

When the congregation sings.

When the candles are lit.

When we hold the bread and cup in our hands.

When we bow our heads in collective prayer. 

We feel close to home when our children are curious,

When we find moments of true connection,

When we are brave enough to be who you call us to be.

However, God, even with gratitude for our close-to-home moments, we also recognize that buried deep within us we have homesick hearts.

We are homesick for a world we have not seen.

We are homesick for a world where oceans are clean, trees are green, and animals are not endangered.

We are homesick for a world where all of your beloveds no matter race, ethnicity, sexuality, or gender, are safe and loved. 

We are homesick for a life where days feel expansive and Sabbath feels possible.

We are homesick for days where mental health is not stigmatized, time is not a commodity, and self-worth is not a scarcity. 

God who never leaves us alone, we are carrying both hope and homesickness all at the same time. Hold these two sides of the same coin tenderly, and fan the flame of both For we realize hope is a gift and homesickness is a reminder. 

We ask it in the name of the one for which we wait, Jesus, who gave us this prayer…

Our Father, who art in heaven

Hallowed be Thy name

Thy Kingdom come

Thy will be done

On earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever. 

Amen.

Love Divine, All Loves Excelling - 517 v 1

Children’s Moment - Emerson Braun

Come, O Long-expected Jesus - Pete Tamez

Sermon: Homesick

Luke 21:25-36

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”

This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God. 

We begin a new series today for Advent, that will carry us through to Epiphany, called Close to Home. 

When something hits close to home, it affects us deeply. During the Advent and Christmas season, we will journey through scriptures and rituals that are tender and familiar. We will carry the memories and truths of Advents past close to our hearts. 

Our time together over the next few weeks will acknowledge the “already but not yet” tension of our faith: Emmanuel is with us, and yet, God’s promised day–our everlasting home–is not fully realized. As we rehearse the welcome of Jesus into the world, we feel the groans of creation, laboring for deliverance. 

I wonder how you feel the groans of creation right now. Perhaps you feel it in strained relationships with loved ones. Maybe you feel the pinch in your pocketbook as inflation takes hold of our grocery and energy bills. Or maybe it’s a quiet desperation of dreams unfulfilled, of a disappointing inventory of your life, or of a loneliness that has grown bigger and deeper through the years.

This week I felt it in the helplessness of hearing my daughter cough persistently in one ear and in the other ear, the doctor’s office saying, “I’m sorry, we don’t have any appointments today in any of our facilities. We are overwhelmed with RSV, flu, and COVID patients.”

And it is in this desperation, whether it’s an acute pain or a gnawing sense of disquiet, that we come to this season of Advent. 

Though Advent is a beginning, it always starts at the end. Each year, we begin the new church year talking about the end of the world. And we always begin the retelling of Jesus’ birth story with his teaching before he was crucified. 

I don’t know about you, but when I get to this first Sunday of Advent, I’m so sure I’m ready for baby Jesus. The hubris is amazing, really. I just know that some cooing of a cuddly God baby will take the edge off and help me find peace, or at the very least, some relief. 

But there is great wisdom in how Advent is structured. The origins of Advent date back to the 5th century, but no one knows who came up with it. It just started appearing in historical accounts in the 400s. It looked a lot different back then than it does now, having evolved over the millennia to find its stride in the church calendar. 

There used to be a strict fast a la Lent, which thankfully they did away with by the 13th century. And then the spirit of Advent changed from a Lenten-like Christmas to a season of hope in the 1960s. 

I don’t know, there’s something about the fact that Advent has been honed over the centuries to become what it is now that is comforting to me. Like this spirit of expectation and hope is not some steady piece of knowledge that we just have to learn how to tap in to like all of the other Christians in history to achieve enlightenment or nirvana.

But rather, hope seems to be always adapting for our circumstances, for our changing world—watching the tides of time and listening for the groans of creation here and now, every day. 

Like if it’s taken thousands of Christians over a thousand years to shape Advent, perhaps I don’t have to beat myself up so much when I find it hard to hope or expect God to show up. 

Maybe that’s why Advent always starts at the end. It shows us where we’re going. To the return of Christ, to the world turned upside down to turn all things right, to the day where God gets everything God wants. 

In this wild text from Luke, we get validation that the world is unwell, that the anguish and desperation we feel is not all in our heads. 

Essentially, the first Sunday of Advent confirms our suspicions that something’s not right. 

We’ll get to sweet baby Jesus soon enough, but for now, we need apocalyptic Jesus. We need to hear him out before we move on to the farm animals and swaddling clothes.

So, let’s locate ourselves, shall we? 

We are at the final straw in the testimony of Luke about Jesus. Jesus has been talking about some really controversial things with his disciples in others’ earshot. The Very Religious People, the VRPs we’ll call them, tend to be the subject of his ire: those that would confuse loyalties to God and loyalties to state, those for whom religious details are more important than caring for the poor and vulnerable, those who would maintain the status quo at any cost, those who would oppress in the name of God. 

Now we want to be careful when talking about run-ins with the VRPs in the gospels. The VRPs for Jesus happen to be Jewish. We should be very careful not to apply Jesus’ criticisms to all Jewish people, or all Jewish people from that time.

Anti-semitism is never okay, generalizations about other religions is never okay, and only listening to critics of those religions is never okay. Jesus was Jewish when he was born, and he was Jewish when he died. I repeat, Jesus was not a Christian. The first people of the church were not considered Christians until later. They thought of themselves as an off-shoot of Judaism. 

I say this explicitly because the gospels have been used as weapons against Jewish people now and Jewish people then. Martin Luther, our Protestant Church founder, read the New Testament in the 1500s and mistakenly equated the criticisms in the gospels with the legalism and exploitation he saw in the medieval Catholic Church, which has contributed to a lot of anti-semitic and anti-Jewish sentiment over the centuries. 

The issues of the Medieval church are not the same as the issues Jesus is talking about here. Let the reader understand. It is irresponsible for us as readers to conflate the two. 

So how do we read Jesus’ criticisms of the Very Religious People? What we take away as 21st century readers of the gospels? For today, we can see that criticism Jesus has for the VRPs in his world can be transposed in a way onto our Western Christian context. 

Very Religious Christians, the VRCs, have also been known to confuse loyalties to God and loyalties to state. They have been known to care more about religious details than caring for the poor and vulnerable. They typically maintain the status quo at any cost. They oppress in the name of God. 

I’m sure we don’t know anyone like that. I’m sure we have never been someone like that.

But I go to great lengths to draw a distinction between Jewish people and the VRPs Jesus is addressing because as Christians, we would do well to remember that we come to over half of our scripture very late compared to our Jewish siblings. Over half our Bible is borrowed.

And we can only understand Jesus by having profound respect and humility toward our Jewish siblings and their practice of faith, including evaluating our own assumptions about who Jesus is talking to and what he’s talking about. There are VRPs in a lot of faiths, especially ones that proclaim to know something about the beginning of the world and the end of it. 

And so we arrive at the end, according to Jesus. There will be signs, he says. Pay attention to them. Keep watch. Stay awake. The whole cosmic order will tremble: terrors on land and sea as foretold by the prophets, whom Jesus points out earlier, were ignored or killed for saying stuff like this. Of course we know he will meet a similar fate. 

But Jesus is not telling his disciples about the end in order to call them to arms or prepare a bunker. He’s not giving them a 3-step prayer to heaven to escape from the world on fire. 

His instruction is to watch. To pay attention. To bear witness.  

Do you see the signs of the moon? He asks.

Do you see the roaring of the waves? 

Do you see the fig tree sprouting in late summer? 

Now do you see what I’m talking about, he asks? It’s okay if you’re still scratching your head. 

This text is apocalyptic—my favorite genre of scripture because it is so arresting. It grabs your face with two hands and yells, “Wake up!”

And the word apocalypse is interesting. The popular meaning of the word is a cataclysmic event or a belief in the imminent end of the present world. But that’s not its original meaning. 

Actually, the word apocalypse means “revelation.”

When apocalyptic imagery shows up in scripture, the kind that shifts the ground beneath us and shakes the heavens, we are called to see what is being uncovered. What is being revealed? What is it that we’re supposed to see?

What do you see?

Grown-up, apocalyptic Jesus is speaking to a world in turmoil, suffering from disasters both natural and human-made. He’s speaking to the realities and injustices of a chaotic world. And in our Advent timeline, he is preparing to enter into this world, offering not words of foreboding, but words of hope to a homesick people. To a people who feel far from God, who long to be close to kin in the middle of a crisis.

He says, “When you see these things, when you feel the chaos, when you feel the ache, when your desperation overwhelms you, stand up. Raise your heads. Because your redemption is near. When you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” 

There’s a theologian named Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz, who coined the word, “kin-dom” rather than kingdom. She sees the people of God not as subjects in a royal hierarchy, but as family, as partners. She describes kin-dom as the “interconnected community, seeing God’s movement emerge from la familia, the family God makes.” 

In the kin-dom of God, the liberation is coming here and now. It’s not a far-off promise of another world that we only get to by suffering in this one. It’s not an afterlife promise, except, for us today, it kind of is.

Because in many ways, we are already living in the afterlife. We talk of the before-times, our shorthand for life before the pandemic, good or bad. 

And we are living in the after-times, so that the life we are in now, is a sort of afterlife. 

And if that is so, perhaps we can ask ourselves some apocalypse questions:

What has been revealed? About our world? Our society? The Big-C Church? This church? Our own hearts? 

What little apocalypses have we borne witness to?

Maybe that’s why we need the first Sunday of Advent. To let the waves wash over us, to let the darkness roll us up like a little baby, to let the shaking jostle us into attention. Because Advent is about waiting, sure. But this year, it’s about bearing witness. 

And this text from Luke begins our Advent journey by reminding us that the cosmic order is disrupted by the coming of Jesus. 

This is not a man who taught us to be nicer people and raise obedient children. Silent night, meek and mild, heavenly peace—those are not the messages for today. 

 No, the message for today is that a chain of transformative events was launched at the announcement of the coming of God-incarnate, and its strangeness and peculiarity, can only be proclaimed with frightening apocalyptic imagery. 

The mountains crash into the sea, the valleys rise up in the rumbling of the spheres, the sun and moon will send signs. I don’t know how to make this any clearer, Jesus seems to be saying. 

Everything—everything—will be different. Don’t you see?

The ground is shifting under your feet. Do you feel it? Pay attention to it.

Because perhaps, in our homesick hearts, in the groans of creation, in our sense that all is unwell, this is the word of good news we need today. 

Everything—everything—will be different. The entire landscape will change. The atmosphere will change. Don’t hide your eyes. Don’t pretend it’s not happening or that you know how it ends. Look and see the coming of the Lord. 

Amen.

Song: Open Wide Your Heavens!

http://www.carolynshymns.com/open_wide_your_heavens.html

Sharing Our Resources

There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. You can give online on our website, on Venmo, or in the offering plate as the deacons come by during our final song. Don’t forget to drop your notification survey in the plate.

Invitation 

If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.

Benediction:

Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.

Receive this blessing….

May we carry this truth us as we return to our homes:

The earth might fade, but God’s love will last.

Our memories might blur, but God’s promises will be fulfilled.

The grass will wither, but God’s mercy will endure.

The sky could go dark, but God’s presence will remain.

So as we return home, may we hold onto the hope that is eternal.

May we hold onto the Holy One who holds on to us.

Amen.

Song: O Day of Peace

https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/joshgarrels/odayofpeace.html

Doxology