​Young at Heart Message
 
Who remembers learning how to ride a bicycle?
 
I remember my journey toward learning to ride a bicycle like it was yesterday because it was an incredibly important experience for me.
 
I wanted to learn how to ride a bike so badly because I idolized my Dad, and he knew how to ride a bike.
 
He promised that once I learned to ride, we could ride together, and we could ride around town for longer rides.
 
I was also secretly motivated to learn to ride because I desperately wanted to be able to ride my bike to school by myself.
 
I was young – probably 4 years old – when I started begging my Dad to teach me. I wanted so badly to “grow up” and ride a “big girl bike.”
 
As most kids do, I started learning to ride with training wheels.
 
The training wheels gave a sense of security and safety – if I started to tip a little to one side or the other, they would catch me and keep me from falling.
 
However, because I was in such a hurry to ride a “big girl bike,” I didn’t want to use the training wheels for very long before I begged to have them taken off.
 
For a few rides, my Dad would hold onto the seat of the bike to keep me from falling over until I got up enough speed to ride.
 
But I wasn’t quite steady enough on the bike, so I fell quite a few times.
 
My Dad couldn’t be there all the time with me, so when I would play outside, I would grab my bike and practice in the grass.
 
This was pretty smart, if I do say so myself, because when I inevitably fell, it didn’t hurt.
 
You’ll be happy to know that by the time I was about 5, I was riding a bike without any assistance.
 
The only problem I ever had after that was when my shoelaces would get caught up in the pedals, and I couldn’t pedal backward because at that time, pedaling backwards hit the breaks.
 
But I fixed that problem by making sure I fell onto the grassy curb when it happened.
 
(I also could have tucked my laces in my shoes, but we won’t mention that!)
 
Much like learning to ride a bike, there are times in life when we might face challenges or uncertainty that require a little extra support.
 
In those times, God is there for and with us, supporting us, guiding us, and helping us along.
 
Much like the training wheels, or my Dad holding onto the seat of my bike, or even the softer grass to land on, God is right there with us.
 
God can’t prevent us from falling, but God can be with us as we do.
 
Isaiah 43 has so many useful nuggets of wisdom:
 
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
 
What if instead, we imagined Isaiah to say something like this:
 
“Do not fear! I have called you by name and you are mine.
When you desperately want to learn to ride a bike, I will be with you. And when you outgrow your training wheels, falling shall not overwhelm you; when you do fall, you shall not be hurt, and if you are, I will guide you to the soft grass so you can have a safe landing. Do not fear, for I am with you.”
 
God isn’t saying that life won’t throw us challenges! But, when we are in the midst of those challenges, God asks us not to be afraid and to trust that God is with us through it all.
 
God is in the metaphorical training wheels of life, and God is there when we get brave enough to remove those training wheels and try things on our own.
 
God is there when we inevitably fall, and God is there when we get back up and try again!
 
The Message
 
Now, I love the passage we read from Isaiah today. It might be one of my favorite passages in the entire Bible.
 
I love the idea of God calling me by name and reminding that I belong to God.
 
I love that this passage reminds me that through all of the challenges of life, God is right there with me. I also love that God so explicitly says that I am loved.
 
I love the Isaiah passage, and I would love to preach only on that scripture today.
 
But we hear an important passage from the Gospel of Luke today, too, and I think it would be helpful to talk about how these two scriptures work together.
 
In the Gospel of Luke, we heard two connected but distinct stories.
 
First, we heard about John the Baptizer, baptizing people who wonder if he is the Messiah.
 
And John, instead of relishing in his potential 15-minutes of fame, humbly tells people that while he is baptizing them, someone more powerful that he is coming – someone who is so powerful that he is not even worthy to undo the straps of his sandals.
 
John doesn’t allow himself to be overwhelmed by the people who seem to be idolizing him.
 
Instead, he makes way for Jesus – the one he believes is the true Messiah.
 
Secondly, we read that John baptizes the people, but he also baptizes Jesus.
 
This is a momentous occasion in itself, but then the heavens are opened and the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove.
 
Everyone hears a voice from heaven that says “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
 
Talk about the excitement of God calling you by name!
 
I feel warm and fuzzy inside when I read Isaiah, but I can only imagine how Jesus would feel when this voice from heaven calls him by name, declaring him God’s Son!
 
Jesus of course is humble, but he is also fully human. It had to have felt good to have such a strong declaration made in front of so many people.
 
But it also validated John’s claims that Jesus was the Messiah, and of course it was one of many more miracles that helped people understand who Jesus was.
 
The wonderful thing about reading the Isaiah passage and the Luke passage together is that it gives even more power to the Isaiah passage because Jesus demonstrates for us what it means for God to call us by name.
 
We might not each get a voice from heaven declaring us God’s offspring, but we do each belong to God, and that is a wonderful gift.
 
Throughout the Gospels we see examples of God calling Jesus by name and using Jesus to do good in the world.
 
But Isaiah tells us that we are also called by name.
 
We lead by example, and we too belong to God.
 
We are each created with our own unique gifts which God calls us to use to make this world a better place.
 
It can be scary to think about using our gifts and talents in new or different ways.
 
But, much like learning to ride a bike, God is right there with us.
 
In our training wheels, in another person holding us steady as we get up the courage to do it on our own, and in a soft place to land when we fall, God is there.
 
We belong to God, and that is a wonderful and beautiful thing.
 
When we pass through the waters, God will be with us, and through the rivers, we shall not be overwhelmed. When we walk through fire, the flame shall not consume us.
 
We are loved. We are cared for. We are surrounded by God’s embrace.
 
We are called by name, and we belong to God.
 
Let that Good News follow us wherever we go. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
God of safety and security, thank you for being our training wheels, our support, and our soft place to land. Even in the busyness of life, through the challenges and storms, you ride with us, placing a hand on us to steady us, and carrying us when life becomes too much for us to bear on our own. Belonging to You is a blessing, and we are overwhelmed with gratitude for your love. In your Holy name we pray. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
I want to start today’s message by showing you some drawings.
 
These drawings were originally commissioned by Armand Gervais, a French toy manufacturer in Lyon, for the 1900 World Exhibition in Paris.
 
They were intended to imagine what the future would look like in the year 2000, 100 years after the World Exhibition.
 
The first 50 of these “paper cards” were drawn by Jean-Marc Côté, and they were designed to be enclosed in cigarette boxes.
 
However, Armand Gervais began producing them in 1899 but died during production, so they sat in the closed-down toy factory for nearly 100 years.
 
So, the cards never saw the light of day until 1986, only 14 years from the year 2000.
 
Let’s look at a few of these cards to see what people in the year 1900 thought the future might look like.

It’s an interesting exploration, and I wonder how we might depict the year 2125 if we were asked to draw what the world will be like then?
 
Of course, the people in 1900 could only imagine a world based on what they knew about their current world.
 
And, we could imagine some things based on our current world, but technology changes so quickly now that it’s difficult to predict.
 
The world is constantly changing, and we are constantly changing, too.
 
We can’t even fully predict how tomorrow will go for us.
 
We can make plans, and we can assume things will go to plan, but until reality actually occurs, it’s impossible to know for sure what tomorrow will bring.
 
The Message
 
And this is where we encounter the Magi in our scripture today.
 
Their world was essentially turned upside down when they saw the star that they followed to find Jesus. That journey wasn’t originally in their plans.
 
And then, once they made the journey, they planned to travel back by the same road because they believed Herod when he said he wanted to go and worship the new “King of the Jews.”
 
But then an angel came to them in their dreams and told them that Herod had different intentions.
 
So, to protect the baby and his family, they chose to change their plans and go home by a different road.
 
The scripture doesn’t give us a lot of details, but I imagine that changing their plans in this way was not an easy decision.
 
They were in a foreign land, and they didn’t have access to GPS like we have today.
 
They had to choose to take an unfamiliar path – one that could be dangerous for them and filled with the unknown.
 
The path they thought they would walk was no longer an option to them, so they had to re-evaluate and make a decision that they were not expecting to make.
 
And that is the lesson I want to focus on in today’s scripture.
 
The paths we walk are not straightforward either.
 
Many of us were taught to stick to the “straight and narrow” path growing up.
 
But what does that even mean?
 
Most of us have had enough life experience now to know that the path is never straight.
 
No matter how hard we try to plan our route, to plan our future, to anticipate what’s coming next, we never really know.
 
And closing ourselves off to the possibilities also closes the door on what God may be wanting for us.
 
If we live our lives in such rigid ways, we may miss some beautiful opportunities for personal growth and evolution, but we may also miss out on things that could make our lives better.
 
One thing I continue to learn and be reminded of as I do the pastoral work that I do is that we are never guaranteed tomorrow.
 
Tomorrow may come, but what we had planned may not be what happens.
 
Life can change in an instant, so expecting our path to be ”straight and narrow” just sets us up to be unable to cope when the path suddenly turns in a different direction.
 
Being aware of the possibility of our path changing unexpectedly helps us to be grateful for where we are on the journey, and reminds us not to take our present moment for granted.
 
Experience has told us that the road is never straight, no matter what people might want us to think.
 
So, if we keep this in mind, we know not to take for granted what we have today.
 
Knowing that the path isn’t straight helps us remember to do things like love more deeply and to tell people we love and care about them.
 
Because we don’t know what tomorrow holds and we aren’t guaranteed that our path will continue in the same direction tomorrow that it’s going today, it is helpful to live in the moment rather than living too much in the past or the future.
 
The Magi demonstrated for us this notion of living in the moment and not being so dead-set on following the straight path they thought they would be walking.
 
Instead, they were able to show Mary and Joseph a profound love for the baby Jesus that ultimately saved his life.
 
They remind us that it’s OK if our journeys haven’t looked like we thought they would.
 
So, as you navigate twists and turns, stay curious and open to where God might be leading.
 
May you find the courage to explore new routes and the wisdom to follow the One who will never leave or forsake you.
 
May each new path be a chance to trust God and discover deeper truths about the love that will never let you go. Amen.
 
God of starlight, We long to follow you. Like the Magi, we want to pick up the hems of our robes and run in your direction. Like the Magi, we want to kick up dust with our feet and make a joyful ruckus following your guiding star. Unfortunately, the stars can be hard to see from here. Your still, small voice can be hard to hear from here. So just as you guided the Magi, guide us, so that we can follow you. With hope in our hearts we pray, Amen.

Sermon References:
Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

​How many of you see those five photos and see five examples of the beauty of God’s creation?
 
Now, how many of you look in the mirror every day and see yet another example of the beauty of God’s creation looking back at you?
 
It is interesting that as human beings, we tend to see the beauty in all of God’s creation when we look at the natural world, but when we look at ourselves, all we see are all our flaws.
 
When we see animals or plants – even somewhat ugly ones – we can still see God’s hand in their being.
 
Even things like mushrooms and knotted old trees, mangy coyotes and bumpy toads can be appreciated as part of God’s vast and beautiful plan for creation.
 
And yet, we struggle to look at ourselves and think that we are worthy of that same appreciation as part of God’s grand creation.
 
We look at our wrinkles, or our grey hairs, our excess body weight, our crooked teeth or anything else about our appearance and we think that there is no way we were created perfectly just the way we are.
 
Why do we believe it about the natural world, but not about ourselves?
 
I am here to tell you today that no matter how insignificant or imperfect we may feel, we are intimately known and dearly loved by God.
 
God calls us by name for a purpose, and we are each a blessing in God’s eyes.
 
We are also each a blessing to others in our own unique ways, and God wants us to believe that about ourselves.
 
Each grey hair and wrinkle and every crooked tooth is God’s reminder that we are special in this world. Our unique features and personality traits are part of the beauty of God’s creation just as much as any other part of the natural world is.
 
God’s love knows your name. God has shown us throughout scripture and throughout history that God uses perfectly imperfect people to do good in the world all the time.
 
Shepherds, for example, were low-wage workers who were undervalued and sometimes considered dangerous, yet they were essential to Bethlehem’s economy.
 
Shepherds kept to the outside of town, guiding their flocks to water and pasture, protecting them from predators and thieves.
 
And yet, these people who likely saw themselves as imperfect, lowly, or insignificant were brought the message of the angel, nonetheless.
 
The message they received was personalized and intimate, and I imagine they were quite surprised when the angel said, “I am bringing you good news,” and “this will be a sign for you.”
 
The shepherds very likely wondered what kind of trick was being played on them, that an angel would bring them, of all people, a sign and good news.
 
And yet, that’s exactly what happened.
 
Just like God used Mary, an unwed teenager from Galilee, to carry and raise Jesus the Messiah, God used Shepherds to bring the good news of the Messiah’s birth.
 
And God uses us to do good work in our world, in this time and place.
 
God is LOVE, and LOVE knows your name.
 
You are a blessing, and God calls you by name to do the good work that is yours to do.
 
Tomorrow as you are getting yourselves ready for whatever your Christmas Day celebrations bring, take a moment to look in the mirror and love the face and body that looks back at you.
 
See the beauty in the being that is just as much a part of God’s beautiful creation as every other living thing on Earth.
 
Tell that person staring back at you that you are a blessing, and that God calls you by name.
 
And, perhaps most importantly, remind the person looking back at you that God is LOVE, and LOVE knows your name.
 
God knows you completely and loves you fully. As you draw near to Jesus, rest assured that you are not a mere face in the crowd but a beloved child of God, known and called by name. In light of this glorious truth, may you be a bearer of peace and love today and forevermore. Amen.
 
God of new beginnings, Our hearts are full to the brim. In a world with long nights and cold winters, in a world that constantly feels like it is ending, we need this new beginning. We need this story of a baby wrapped in swaddling cloth, lying in a manger. We need this story of the angels and the shepherds. We need Mary’s song and Joseph's faith. We need this night to remember how to begin again. So with hope in our hearts and love in our veins, we pray in your Holy name. Amen.
 
 
Sermon References:
Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

The Message

On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, the words we’re focusing on as part of our Advent sermon series are “Hope Is Worth the Risk.”
 
This is a really tough one to preach on because it is incredibly vulnerable to hope.
 
Hope can feel like a tremendous risk, and the more hope we have in something, the greater the risk of disappointment.
 
Disappointment isn’t the only risk, either.
 
There is the risk of heartbreak – of giving yourself fully to someone or something and then having your heart shattered when you dared to hope.
 
Have you ever found yourself resisting hope because you fear that if you become emotionally invested, you might “jinx” the situation and then be disappointed when it doesn’t work out?
 
Of course! I think we have all been there.
 
And yet, if we aren’t willing to take the risk - to be vulnerable and allow ourselves to hope - we become cynical.
 
Cynicism feels like a safer, more straightforward path.
 
But cynicism doesn’t change our lives, nor does it change the world. Hope changes our lives, and hope changes the world.
 
I’ll give you an example.
 
When I finally started thinking about becoming a pastor, I was incredibly cynical.
 
I was cynical about the process, I was cynical about my abilities to do the job, and I was even cynical about my decision to even try to seek ordination.
 
It was so much easier for me to tell myself it was unlikely that I would make it through the process because it would hurt less if I failed.
 
I was putting a lot of time, money, and energy into walking this path, and I wasn’t even certain anything would come of it.
 
In fact, I wasn’t even overly optimistic about it, and I didn’t even dare to hope, at least initially.
 
But, my first meeting with the ordination committee went better than I could have expected, and some of those cynical thoughts I had started to ease a little.
 
And then my second meeting went fairly well too.
 
And then the third. And before I knew it, I was becoming more confident that they weren’t going to boot me out of the program.
 
And finally, I began to dare to hope that maybe all of this work I was doing and the risks I was taking would be worth it.
 
And of course, now I know it was.
 
But interestingly, it easier now to look back at that period in my life and recognize that what I thought was cynicism was actually hope.
 
If I had no hope and I hadn’t put that hope into action and kept moving along the path, I would not have made it this far.
 
This past week, I attended something called a “Clergy Cluster” with some pastoral colleagues from the Lutheran church.
 
We discussed the passage we read today – Mary’s song, also known as the Magnificat.
 
And we talked about the hope that Mary had, despite the incredible risk of opening her body and her heart to the idea of bearing the child of the Holy Spirit.
 
But, I’m not sure that Mary saw it as hope at the time.
 
I think Mary was scared. She was an unwed teenager, and I guarantee she, like me, thought more than once “why me, God? I am nothing special, and I am not sure I’m strong enough or brave enough to do what you’re asking of me.”
 
And yet, her actions, her willingness to accept her role despite her uncertainty, demonstrated radical hope and incredible vulnerability.
 
I can only imagine that resisting hope felt easier in the moment.
 
But by the time she sings her song, it is a beautiful song of hope and of courage.
 
Mary voices a hope that challenges the status quo and sings of a reality where justice and mercy reigns.
 
She sings of bringing down the mighty, exalting the humble, filling the hungry, and leaving the rich empty.
 
She and Elizabeth share their hopes and their fears with one another. They cry, they sing, they lament, and they hope beyond hope that everything will work out in the end.
 
Mary weaves through her song a vision of the world as God intends it, stitching together a pattern of justice and mercy.
 
Mary reminds us that hope is worth the risk. We can choose cynicism because it’s the easier path, or we can choose hope because it is the courageous path.
 
We can choose hope because, even though there is a possibility that we will be disappointed, we do not have a chance of changing ourselves, our lives, or our world without hope.
 
We must be willing to take the risk, like Mary and Joseph and Elizabeth, because our hope is a reflection of God’s plans for the world – plans for renewal and restoration in the face of despair and hopelessness.
 
Practicing hope is not easy, we know this.
 
There are people in the world who are suffering more than we could ever imagine. It feels disingenuous to tell those who are suffering to simply have hope.
 
We know it is not that easy.
 
But, what if we who are able practiced hope on behalf of those who are weary and worn down and becoming hopeless?
 
Could our expressions of hope become a life raft for others?
 
Could we actively work to set aside our cynicism, or at least become aware of it when it penetrates our consciousness? Could we instead make hope a meaningful spiritual practice?
 
Could we think of hope as a muscle – one that can be worked, flexed, strengthened, and stretched?
 
If we imagine hope as action, rather than mere optimism, it becomes easier to see how hope is worth the risk.
 
Doing the work and being vulnerable to hope allows us to change our lives, the lives of those around us, and perhaps even the world.
 
So, hold onto hope despite the risks.
 
The voice of cynicism can be loud, but cynicism also often lies to us.
 
But, hope is worth fighting for.
 
May the Spirit of God surround you this season so that you might trust like Joseph and sing like Mary.
 
The same hope they held is still alive today, transforming creation into God’s will for justice and peace.
 
As you prepare your heart for Christ’s arrival, may you make room for God’s presence, and may your actions reflect God’s hope for humanity. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
Holy God, The stories of Advent are stories many of us have heard before. We’ve arranged the nativity scenes. We’ve read the children’s books. We’ve seen the movies. We’ve sung the songs. But as we come to your scripture this morning, we pray: help us begin again. Clear the distractions from our minds. Center us in this space. Move through the protective barriers we surround ourselves with and speak to us here and now. We are listening. We are hopeful. Amen.
 
 Sermon References:
 Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
 Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

​Young at Heart Message
 
Let’s channel our inner child for a moment and pretend that we are sitting around a large pool of water. The water is still – so still that it could be glass. Can you picture it?
 
Now, I have a bowl of rocks here. Each rock has a word on it. Words like “passion, trust, focus, hope, and happiness.”
 
These rocks are special rocks because, as they are tossed into the pool, the ripples they create will manifest the words on the rocks in each of us.
 
But, they do require some energy from the person who tosses them into the pool. As a rock is tossed into the pool, it drains a small amount of energy from the person tossing the rock.
 
So, for example, if I throw a rock that says “happiness” into the pool, happiness would ripple outward to each of you, but it would drain a small amount of my own energy at the same time.
 
Now, what do you suppose would happen if I dumped all of these rocks with their words on them into the pool at once?
 
Essentially, it would make one huge splash, there would be one huge ripple effect, and you would each get blasted with love, hope, focus, trust, happiness, and whatever else all at once. And, a lot of my own energy would drain in the process.
 
That one big ripple manifesting all of these words at once might be powerful initially, but because all of the rocks are going in at once, they are essentially creating one ripple. So the impact that each rock, and therefore each word, has on you might be quite small by the time it reaches you.
 
Not to mention, I will have just spent a lot of my own energy sending these words to manifest in you all at once.
 
But, what if, instead, I passed this bowl of rocks around to each of you, and each of us threw just one rock into the pool?
 
Each of us would spend much less energy throwing the rocks into the pool, and the ripple effect would last much longer. We would each receive the ripples from each individual rock, and collectively, we would all have more than enough energy left so that we wouldn’t feel totally drained.
 
Let’s try that now. I will pass the bowl around. I would like each of you to take one rock from the bowl and toss it into the imaginary pool. As you do, say the word on your rock and imagine the ripples expanding outward to everyone in the room.
 
How did it feel to be able to give people this positive energy?
 
How did it feel to receive so much positive energy?
 
The Message
 
Today we are continuing with the Advent theme, Words for the Beginning. The words we are focusing on for today’s message are “Do the work that is yours to do.”
 
This is such an important message, especially in a community full of people who love to give.
 
As givers, we tend to want to do everything we can to help people. That in itself is not a bad thing. But, if we aren’t careful, we may overdo it.
 
We could end up draining our own energy to the point where we are no longer able to give more of ourselves. Or, we can spread ourselves too thin.
 
For example, as a pastor I am often asked to participate in different ministries. I used to feel obligated to try to get involved with as many different organizations as I could.
 
However, in doing so, I was spreading myself too thin, and I wasn’t really able to make an impact in any of the organizations. I was “involved” insofar as I might receive their newsletter or attend a meeting or two, but I didn’t have time or energy to do much more than that.
 
Essentially, I was dropping all of my rocks into the pool at once, which minimized what each group or organization received from me, and completely drained my own energy or passion for ministry or service.
 
I began to realize that the best way for me to make any kind of impact was to focus on the things that gave me life and energized me, and let others do the things that gave them life and energized them.
 
In other words, I started to realize that I could only do the work that was mine to do. That meant doing the work that tapped into my own skills and abilities and that actually gave me energy rather than draining me.
 
It is not easy to discern what that work is all the time, because I am still often asked to do things that are outside of my skill set or my areas of passion or interest. And, it can create feelings of guilt to say no to something.
 
It is interesting, and of course intentional, that one of our scripture readings today was John the Baptizer scolding the crowd for wanting to be baptized without having given up their sins.
 
When the crowd asks what they should do about it, John tells them to share what they have with those in need. For example, if someone has two coats, he suggests giving one to someone in need. Likewise, if someone has more than enough food, he suggests sharing with someone who does not have enough food.
 
But then the passage says that when tax collectors came to be baptized, they ask what they can do. (Remember that tax collectors were considered sinners in the eyes of most people at that time because, even though they were doing their jobs, they also were often taking more money than people actually owed.) John tells them not to make people pay more than they owe. In other words, he suggests they ensure they are ethical tax collectors that do their jobs, but with kindness and compassion.
 
Likewise, when the soldiers asked what they could do, he tells them not to ask people to pay money to be left alone. He suggests they should be happy with the pay they receive, rather than greedily demanding more money from the people.
 
John was giving the people examples of the work that was specifically theirs to do. The tax collectors had the unique responsibility of collecting taxes ethically. That was their good work to do.
 
The crowd at large was encouraged to look at the things they had and decide if there was anything they had more than enough of that they could share.
 
John wasn’t asking everyone in the crowd to dump all of their rocks into the metaphorical pool at once. He was asking them to look at their own skills, abilities, and possessions and determine what it is that they could offer the world.
 
And this is the good news that we are invited to receive today: we are responsible for doing the good work that is ours to do. We are not responsible for doing everything.
 
We each have our own unique skills, talents, and resources. And we have a finite amount of energy. Our church collectively also has skills, talents, and resources that we can offer to the community.
 
But we are not meant to feel guilty for the work we cannot do. Rather, we are meant to be proud of the work that is ours to do, and we are invited to continue doing that work.
 
It is also important, I think, to remember that we should not feel guilty, as individuals or as a church, for the things we used to have time, energy, and resources for that we no longer do. We can be proud of the things we were once able to do, and we can be proud of the things we are still able to do.
 
And, we can continue doing the good work that is our to do in this time and place. We have, for example, recently learned that we have the resources, energy, and talents to support a refugee family’s endeavor to land safely and securely in Calgary.
 
We also know that we have the ability to successfully offer opportunities for socializing for seniors. These are two strong ministries – one that has been happening for a while and one that is a newer opportunity for us. But both are ministries that give us energy and life rather than drain it.
 
These are two examples of the good work that is ours to do.
 
We are uniquely situated to bring light into the world. May we find courage this season to do the good that is ours to do. It matters. May we see the ripples of our actions expand outward, touching lives and mending the fabric of our shared humanity. Amen.
 
Let us pray: Listening God, we know that you are constantly speaking to us. Through music, scripture, nature, and relationships, you make yourself known again and again. In gratitude, we long to return the favor. In gratitude, we long to meet you halfway. So in this moment, we are quieting the noise in our heads. We are closing our eyes. We are leaning in. We are listening. We are doing the good that is ours to do. Speak to us through the chaos. Speak to us as only you can. With hope in our hearts we listen, we pray. Amen.
 
Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

The Message

Did you know that in 2023, the US Surgeon General put out a lengthy and detailed report declaring loneliness an epidemic in the US?
 
And it’s not just a US problem, of course.
 
In 2018 (pre-COVID, by the way), the UK appointed its first “Minister for Loneliness.” Japan followed suit in 2021.
 
Australia and New Zealand both have national loneliness reduction strategies, and China has gone so far as to pass a law stating that adult children must visit their parents regularly.
 
And, of course, Canada is not immune to the issue – people here struggle with common problems that are being faced in every first-world nation.
 
Now, we could discuss the causes of this “epidemic,” but we would probably be here all day if we did that.
 
I do think, however, that it is worth mentioning some of the important information from the US Surgeon General’s report:
- 1 in 2 adults reported experiencing loneliness (even before the COVID pandemic)
- Loneliness is associated with greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and premature death
- The consequences of loneliness impact our schools, workplaces, and civic organizations
 
One of the most important things the Surgeon General says in his report is, “We are called to build a movement to mend the social fabric of our nation.”
 
Of course, he’s referring to the US specifically, but this sounds like a profound call to our churches to help build a movement to mend the social fabric of our communities.
 
Interestingly, I wonder how much of an impact the “Minister for Loneliness,” or the loneliness reduction strategies have had in other countries?
 
The reason I wonder is because it seems unlikely that any kind of government program to counteract loneliness could be truly effective.
 
For starters, people have to want to address their own loneliness. But secondly, people have to want to address loneliness for others, as well.
 
Certainly, we feel a sense of empathy for those who feel loneliness.
 
But I wonder how many people actually articulate to others that they feel lonely?
 
How many people even recognize loneliness in themselves?
 
Loneliness can be hard to address because it falls on a spectrum.
 
We can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.
 
We can be in a relationship with another person and feel lonely if our needs for connection aren’t being met.
 
Likewise, some of us can be perfectly content to spend a lot of time alone, and yet still be socially isolated.
 
Additionally, social media users can have hundreds or even thousands of “friends” or “followers,” and still feel lonely when they see those “friends” sharing the incredible things happening in their lives.
 
Sometimes, our life circumstances can create feelings of loneliness.
 
Moving away from friends and family can be socially isolating, especially when it has become harder and harder for adults to make friends.
 
Similarly, having a friend or family member that you are close to move away can create feelings of loneliness for people who depended on their presence back home.
 
It is truly no wonder that 1 in 2 adults struggles with feelings of loneliness.
 
Loneliness is very much a modern phenomenon.
 
A lot of this is a function of how we live today, and the push toward independence instead of communal living.
 
We are far more individualistic today.
 
We have also seen a significant decline in the number of people who participate in religious communities or faith communities, and we have seen a rise in online social media platforms where people are simultaneously connected to more people electronically but disconnected from people in the real world.
 
So, where does this leave us? It all sounds quite hopeless.
 
If lawmakers and government officials can’t solve the problem, how do we even begin to address it?
 
Well, I think the Surgeon General said it best when he said “we are called to build a movement to mend the social fabric” of our communities and, by extension, of the world.
 
No one person is going to be able to step in and wave a magic wand to fix loneliness.
 
Rather, this needs to be addressed on the local and on the individual level.
 
We need to be practicing kindness and compassion as much as possible.
 
I also think we probably need to be committing to stepping away from social media and our cell phones more often and interacting with real people instead.
 
However, to do that, we need to actively choose to involve ourselves in some kind of community.
 
I worry about our younger generations in this sense, including my own.
 
How do we create a movement, especially with younger generations, when they have known nothing but social media as a primary way of connecting with people?
 
I know that many people worry about how involved in sports and other recreational activities our young people are, but I see this as a positive for them because at least they are socializing and connecting with people in real life.
 
The people I worry about most right now is mid-life adults.
 
Adults my own age, who may or may not have children and families, but who often work from home alone all day and struggle to get involved in things outside of work.
 
I can attest to the difficulty of finding and maintaining friendships as an adult. Developing new friendships is especially difficult as we get older, and because our lives are busy, it can also be difficult to find the energy to involve ourselves in community.
 
What can we do to help and support others?
 
Like Ruth, we need to choose kindness, and we might need to sacrifice a bit for others.
 
Ruth chooses to stay with her mother-in-law, Naomi, rather than seek to find another husband.
 
She maintains the important connection with Naomi in a world where the social norm would have been for her to move on to another husband and forget about Naomi completely.
 
But doing that would have left both women lonely and isolated.
 
Instead, Ruth chooses kindness. Together, they form a new family and a new covenant with one another.
 
This new family they formed was built not on blood, but on kinship. 
 
Ruth dared to believe that her life was better intertwined with Naomi’s.
 
Neither of them were meant to journey alone, and Ruth believed that wholeheartedly.
 
When loneliness begins to creep in on us, it can cause us to start to think that we are the only person carrying the weight of loneliness.
 
Feeling alone in the struggle causes a cascade of other thoughts of inadequacy, insecurity, and insignificance.
 
The good news is that the only way for us to really address this problem is to cultivate compassionate community.
 
The reason this is good news is because we already do this quite well here at this church.
 
And our call as individuals the moment we step out of this building is to continue cultivating compassionate community.
 
That said, the statistics would seem to indicate that if 1 in 2 adults struggle with loneliness, it could be the case that about half of us in this room feel a sense of loneliness despite our connection to this community of faith.
 
Those feelings of loneliness can be especially strong this time of year, when many people struggle with loneliness or grief.
 
But we cannot go alone, nor were we meant to.
 
If you are one who is finding yourself dealing with feelings of loneliness, I encourage you to connect with someone you trust and share those feelings.
 
It can be someone in this community, or it can be another trusted person. It will mean being vulnerable, which isn’t easy.
 
But don’t let those feelings consume you.
 
We can each commit to kindness and compassion, to helping the stranger, or to extending an invitation.
 
But we also need to commit ourselves to sharing in our grief and loneliness because we are not meant to walk this path alone.
 
There are people in this community who would be happy to walk with you, talk with you, or listen as you share.
 
I would encourage you to reach out to someone if you are able.
 
It can be incredibly hard to admit to feeling lonely, but if we can’t admit it to ourselves and we don’t feel like we can share it with others, then we will perpetuate our own cycle of loneliness.
 
And this is where the call to build a movement comes into play.
 
Movements begin with individuals and small groups who are committed to speaking the truth in a kind and compassionate way.
 
Our movement may begin within the walls of this church but could very quickly expand into our own communities.
 
If we are called to create a movement to begin mending the social fabric of our communities, then let it begin with each of us.
 
Let us work together to break the cycles of loneliness. Let us walk with one another and remind each other often that “we cannot go alone, nor were we meant to go alone.”
 
Beloved, you are not alone on this winding journey.
 
May the companionship of fellow sojourners reflect the love of the One who – in becoming flesh – chose to journey alongside us.
 
May the quilt of life warm you from the chill of isolation, and may the Spirit move you to compassion as you cultivate community, even in times of uncertainty. Amen.
​
Let us pray: Holy God, The words of this world whip around us like a mighty wind. We are caught up in news reports, in text messages, in emails and notifications. We are drowning in updates from the media, caught off guard by the constant hum of it all. But here on this bright morning we remember: you too are speaking. Still the voices around us. Calm our minds and center our hearts so that we can hear your words above the wind. We are leaning closer. We are at the edge of our chairs. We are beginning again. Speak to us, as only you can. Amen.
 
“Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.”

Sermon References: Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
C2C Journal: Ideas that Lead | https://c2cjournal.ca/2023/01/a-kingdom-of-one-the-great-loneliness-pandemic-and-what-not-to-do-about-it/
Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation; 2023 US Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community

​Young at Heart Message
 
Advent is a season of endings and beginnings.
 
As the calendar year comes to a close, a new church year begins.
 
Christ’s birth ushers us into new ways of living and loving; and yet, the world as we know it spins madly on.
 
This year’s Advent theme is “Words for the Beginning.”
 
Once again, we will be using A Sanctified Art’s Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany materials.
 
This year, we will explore an Advent series filled with the words we need to hear over and over again as we begin a new year.
 
Today’s words that I think we all need to hear often, throughout our lives, are “You are a blessing.”
 
I don’t know about you, but growing up, the theology I was raised on took a bit more negative outlook.
 
Instead of feeling like a blessing, I often felt like a burden.
 
Being taught at an early age that we are all sinners, or that bad things happen to us because we weren’t faithful enough or we did something wrong to deserve punishment did not exactly leave me believing I was a blessing on this world.
 
If anything, I internalized the idea that I should take up as little space as possible in this world – something that I have spent years trying to unlearn.
 
It may become obvious very quickly that the imagery used in this year’s Advent theme is that of quilting.
 
I initially wondered why they were using quilting as part of the theme this year, but I realized that it’s because quilts are brilliant metaphors for life.
 
This concept of having things that we were taught as young people that we need to unlearn is not unique. Most of us have things we learned as children or young adults that we must now unlearn as we journey through life.
 
Now, I’m not an expert on quilting, but if there are quilters in the room, how easy is it to unstitch something that has already been stitched into a quilt?
 
My understanding is that it’s doable, but rather inconvenient and difficult, and sometimes it is obvious that stitches have been removed and re-stitched.
 
In other words, we may be able to unstitch and re-stitch sections of our quilt (or unlearn and relearn things in our lives), but we may not be able to completely hide the evidence of either. 
 
I asked some of the members of our congregation who are quilters if they would be willing to send me some pictures of some of the quilts they have created in their lives.
 
Merlyn sent her photos with a note saying, “don’t look too closely, these aren’t perfectly sewn, but hopefully they’re at least warm.”
 
What a perfect metaphor for our lives! Don’t look too closely, because I’m not perfect, but hopefully I have a few good qualities!

It may be easy to look at these quilts and see the finished product, overlooking the hard work and the individual pieces that went into making them.
 
But, what would happen if we took out one section of these quilts?
 
The quilts would be incomplete!
 
On their own, each individual piece of fabric in these quilts may seem insignificant, but the quilt would not be the same without any one of those pieces.
 
And the same is true for us in life.
 
Our lives would not be the same without the people, words, and messages that have made us who we are – good, bad, or otherwise.
 
Remove a single piece of the quilt, and it is not the same piece of art. Similarly, remove a piece of our past, and we are not the same self.
 
This year’s Advent theme begins with blessedness because it is Mary’s beginning, and it is our beginning as well.
 
This statement, “You are a blessing,” is a radical statement considering that too many people are taught – whether implicitly or explicitly (through cultural norms and expectations, media, role models, their parents, or their church leaders) – that they are a burden.
 
The message that we are each a blessing can be easily muted, trivialized, or taken away from us.
 
There are many forces in this world that might make us believe that we are not a blessing.
 
When we stop believing that we are a blessing to God, we may stop believing it about others as well.
 
We may begin to think that we are unimportant to God – unimportant in the quilt of our own lives.
 
However, when we are rooted in our blessedness, we can treat every created being as a blessing as well.
 
We can recognize our own importance to God, to creation, and to the people around us.
 
The Message

This is where we meet Mary in today’s scripture passage.
 
She has forgotten, or perhaps she doesn’t truly believe, what the Book of Isaiah says, that “I have called you by name. To me, you are very dear, and I love you.”
 
Mary is an ordinary girl from Nazareth. She did not have power or prestige. She did not believe she had a significant role to play in the world.
 
And yet, she was blanketed in belovedness nonetheless.
 
Advent welcomes us to reflect on how we are invited into God’s redemptive narrative.
 
Like Mary, we may feel ordinary or small, but we too have the potential to carry God’s love into a weary world.
 
In our Gospel reading today, the story of Mary and the angel Gabriel demonstrates how God might choose someone the world might overlook to be part of something beautiful.
 
Gabriel’s message to Mary – “You are truly blessed! The Lord is with you” – is a declaration of Mary’s essential place in the divine quilt.
 
Mary’s response to Gabriel – “How can this be?” – is profoundly human. She doesn’t necessarily believe that she is an important piece of the quilt.
 
And yet, Gabriel reassures her by saying “Do not be afraid.” It is a clear reminder that even when we worry or wonder if we matter in the vast expanse of the universe, God knows our heart, acknowledges our fear, and moves toward us.
 
The passage from Isaiah provides additional comfort, promising that we are never alone, even in the darkest moments when it feels like we are lost.
 
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
 
In a world often consumed by pain, suffering, and injustice, it is a gift to remember that we are formed and made by a God who loves us and doesn’t leave us.
 
You are a blessing because the One from whom all blessings flow sees you, knows you, and calls you by name.
 
By embracing our inherent blessedness as a starting point, we open our hearts to recognize and affirm the blessedness in others, which transforms our interactions and communities.
 
God's perfect love invites us to live out our belovedness by entering into the good work of the quilt God’s hand began sewing many years ago.
 
May you remember that you are a blessing – known, chosen, and called for a purpose.
 
May you boldly live into this truth, recognizing and cherishing your inherent worth so that you may honor God’s image in others.
 
Trust in your belovedness as you enter the redemptive work God has invited you into this Advent season. Amen.
 
Affirming God, How often do you speak to us, and how often do we miss it? How often do you whisper blessings over us that we refuse to hear? Open our hearts. Create space in us to not only hear these words, but to believe the good news tucked between them. We are hungry for your wisdom, so help us hear you. With hope and curiosity, we listen. With hope and curiosity, we dare to begin again. Amen.
 
“Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.”
 
Sermon References: Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

Young at Heart Message
 
Today is Reign of Christ Sunday, also known as Christ the King Sunday.
 
Pastors don’t like to admit this, but this Sunday is often one that pastors would prefer to avoid.
 
Reign of Christ Sunday was established in 1925. So, next year will be the 100th anniversary of this celebration in the church year.
 
Pastors like to avoid this Sunday, and often we will ignore it and talk about something else, because we don’t always really know how to handle it.
 
It also falls right before Advent, and often people miss this Sunday anyway, so I think a lot of pastors figure no one will notice if we skip it.
 
But, I think it’s worth talking about, so bear with me today.
 
I want to begin with what I hope will be a fun exercise for us.
 
I want to compile a list together of all the ways we might describe a king.
 
Since I’m guessing few, if any, of us personally know a king, we will need to draw on what we know from history, any current knowledge of monarchs, and, we will need to draw a lot from popular culture – movies, TV, books, etc.
 
So, let’s make a list together. It’s OK to be a little silly here, or to put something on the list that you’ve seen in movies or on TV.
 
Our AV folks are going to type our list into the next few slides for us so we can see it.
 
I’ll get us started by adding two things to the list:
 
Kings lead battles.
 
Kings are rich.
 
Now, let’s ask our AV folks to get ready to type into our next slide, and then you all add your own ideas to our list.

A Brief History Lesson
 
How many of you have heard of the “lot” being used to make decisions?
 
Historically, Moravians used what’s called the “lot” to help them make decisions of all kinds – from who could marry, to who should be running the church, and all kinds of things in between.
 
The way the lot worked was that they would have three possible responses to their question written on three pieces of paper.
 
One would say “yes” (in whatever language the group used depending on their location), one would say “no,” and one would say “not yet.”
 
Then, they would ask the question that they sought to answer, and they would choose one of the three pieces of paper.
 
Whatever the paper said was the absolute, indisputable answer.
 
So, for example, when I was called to Good Shepherd Church, they would have had to use this system to decide if they wanted to hire me.
 
The Board would ask the lot if they should hire me as their pastor.
 
Then, they would write the three possible responses on three pieces of paper.
 
They would mix up the paper and choose one.
 
If they chose the “no” response, they would have to go back to the drawing board, regardless of how much they liked me and wanted to hire me.
 
If they chose the “yes” response, they would have to hire me, even if they really thought I was a terrible choice.
 
And, if they chose the “not yet” response, they would have had to wait until a future date and try the lot again.
 
The early Moravians believed emphatically that the lot was a way to take their personal opinions out of the equation. Instead, they deemed the response the lot gave as God’s final word on the matter.
 
In other words, it was their way of bringing God into their decision-making process, ensuring that they were not making decisions based solely on their own emotional state at the time.
 
It also took the debate out of the process. Decisions could not be argued about after the fact because they believed that God had led them to that decision.
 
If they had debated it, it would have been like debating God’s will.
 
So, imagine you have found the absolute love of your life.
 
The person is attractive, kind, genuine, and cares deeply for you, and you wish to marry them.
 
But, in the early Moravian system, you could not simply choose to marry someone without first asking the lot.
 
So, a man would have to begin by asking a woman if she would consider marrying him.
 
Then, assuming she said yes, they would take the proposal to the community leadership, and they would present the choice to the lot.
 
If the lot said yes, then they would confirm with the woman that she indeed wanted to marry the man.
 
If the “lot” said no, however, that decision was final. They could not ask again in the future, and each person would need to seek another potential partner instead.
 
And, if they chose “not yet” they would have to wait and ask the lot again at a future date.
 
Can you imagine the nail-biting anxiety of waiting to see what the lot said about your future spouse?
 
I can understand the theory behind this system.
 
After all, it demonstrates a strict devotion to God that they would rely so heavily on a system which believed this was God’s way of speaking in their lives.
 
And yet, in practice, I could imagine it potentially being devastating if people desperately wanted a “yes” response but instead received a resounding “no”.
 
It is with this process in mind that we turn now to the Moravian settlement of Herrnhut in Germany.
 
In 1736, the Moravians held a Synod, much like our current Synods. At the end of that Synod, their Chief Elder, Leonhard Dober, asked to be relieved of his position.
 
His skills simply didn’t meet the need, but it had also become a position that could not be done by one person alone. He was tired.
 
The Moravian church had spread far and wide through missionary work across the globe and it was a lot to manage.
 
They chose to postpone the discussion about his resignation until June of the following year, at which time they decided to deal with Dober’s decision.
 
But, his resignation was not accepted by the lot so it had to wait until a future Synod.
 
Finally, in 1741, 5 years later, the lot supported Dober’s resignation, which left them with the task of electing a new Chief Elder.
 
Various members of the community were nominated, but the lot declined each nomination.
 
So finally, those gathered for the Synod in 1741 decided not to appoint another person to the position.
 
Instead, they decided to put forth Jesus Christ himself as their Chief Elder.
 
They posed the following question to the lot: “Whether this signified that the Saviour would himself undertake the office.”
 
The lot’s response to this question was “yes.”
 
It was on November 13th, 1741, that this major decision was announced to the members of the church.
 
Through a time of turmoil and chaos, when they were anxious about who would take on this very important role within the church, Jesus Christ brought hope to their community.
 
And now, for the last 283 years, we have celebrated Christ as our Chief Elder on November 13th each year.
 
In practice, what this means for us is that we are asked to remember – especially in our service on Boards and in leadership roles within the church – to acknowledge that we look to Christ first and foremost when we are making decisions that might affect our community.
 
It is symbolic, but deeply meaningful and provides us with hope that even when we work to make difficult decisions, Christ walks with us and guides us in all that we do.
 
The Message
​
So, this history lesson leads us to today, just four days after the November 13th celebration, when we heard a rather apocalyptic scripture reading from the Gospel of Mark.
 
Jesus says “watch out! When you hear about wars and threats of wars, don’t be afraid.”
 
That’s easier said than done, don’t you think, Jesus?
 
But then he says, “These things will have to happen, but that isn’t the end.”
 
He goes on to warn that nations will go to war against each other, there will be natural disasters, and people will starve, and that all of this is just the beginning of the troubles. It sounds rather discouraging.
 
And yet, these things will inevitably happen, whether Jesus predicted it or not, because it is the way of the world and the way of humanity.
 
In this rather scary passage, Jesus is giving us hope, believe it or not.
 
Just like when the Moravians of the mid-1700’s needed reassurance when their steadfast leadership was changing and their world felt like it was in chaos, Jesus once again provided them with hope.
 
Jesus acknowledges in this passage that difficult times lay ahead.
 
And if we are being honest, he doesn’t just mean imminently. He means always and forever.
 
We know this because we have experienced it in our own lives.
 
We don’t just experience challenges, turmoil, and chaos globally.
 
We know about the chaos and devastation that he speaks of because we have felt it in our own hearts, and we are aware of it all around us.
 
Some of us are in the middle of it right now, and nearly all of us have experienced it at some point in our past.
 
But Jesus is reminding us here that when we are in the middle of the storm, he is right there with us.
 
It is not the end, he assures us.
 
It reminds me of the song “Eye of the Storm” by Ryan Stevenson. He sings:
 
In the eye of the storm,
You remain in control
And in the middle of the war
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me,
In the eye of the storm.
 
Ryan reminds us that Jesus doesn’t promise us that there will never be a storm.
 
Jesus knows too much about the human condition to be able to promise us that.
 
But he does promise that no matter what happens, God is with us through it all.
 
Jesus cannot stop what he predicts is to come for his disciples, nor can he stop disaster and chaos from affecting us.
 
But he can join us in the storm.
 
He can sit right there with us when we are riding out the storm – a shining beacon of hope in a dreary or stormy sky of despair.
 
He can be our hope amid the chaos, whether than chaos is in our hearts, our minds, our families, our communities, our country, or our world.
 
So, may we always remember that Jesus is our hope and our guiding light when all feels lost.
 
We are not lost because Jesus is always with us.
 
Just as our early Moravian forebears knew that Jesus was right there with them, guiding them through their uncertainty, may we also know this to be true in our own lives.
 
Amen.
 
God of hope, we thank you for all the blessings of this life. For the gift of life. For the gift of Christ, for the gift of the Holy Spirit, for your tender mercy. For Your saving love.

Let Your love, steadfast and faithful, be a great sign from heaven.

May Your peace bend our will to your will, like trees in a strong wind.

Signs of heaven, sighs of hope. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
Several months ago, I tried to show a video from the movie Encanto. The video didn’t work, but I talked a bit about the premise of the movie.
 
I’m sure you all remember it in detail, but just in case you don’t, I’ll tell you about it again because it applies to today’s scripture passage.

Encanto is a Disney movie about a family that received a special gift which gives them heightened abilities.

​Everyone who was born into the family after “Abuela” – Grandma – was born with a special gift.
 
One of her daughters, for example, can heal people through food. If someone just eats something she made, they will be healed from at least minor ailments.

​The other daughter’s mood controls the weather. If she is in a bad mood, it might storm, but if she is in a good mood, the weather will be sunny and warm.

​Both of these women had children, and each of their children have gifts as well.
 
Dolores can hear things other people can’t, and Antonio can talk to animals.

​Isabela can make plants grow, and Luisa is super strong.

Mirabel is so proud to be part of her family that is so special, even though she is constantly overshadowed by her sisters and cousins who all have special gifts that are used to “help” the family.
 
But here is where things get interesting.
 
Mirabel works so hard to try to contribute to her family – to help them be successful in their community and in their home.
 
But because she doesn’t have any special abilities like the rest of her family, they all treat her as though she really can’t contribute anything of value to the family.
 
And, to some extent, she believes this herself, although she works really hard to define herself outside of the realm of special talents.
 
And yet, her family and the rest of the community believe she has nothing to offer because, compared to everyone else, her abilities are far less defined.
 
The other members of her family, therefore, believe that what they contribute to the family’s success is of far greater value than what Mirabel contributes.
 
And yet, as the movie goes on, we get to see that Mirabel is, in fact, the one person who can save her family from disaster.
 
Interestingly, in the process of saving her family from actual physical harm, she also shows her sisters that they are defined by so much more than their special abilities.
 
It is a story about family systems and the boxes we tend to put people in, but it is also a story about growth and community and sacrifice for those we love.
 
Based on how the family defined usefulness within their family system, Mirabel was the least “useful” of all. She has the least to offer, in their opinion.
 
And yet, she ended up giving the most of herself, and she showed everyone that they also had more to give than what they were offering.
 
If you haven’t seen the movie, I recommend watching it.
 
But, in the meantime, you can settle for my brief description!
 
So what does this have to do with today’s scripture?
 
The Message
​
Well, today we heard the story of Jesus watching people place their gifts into the offering box in the temple.
 
What he witnesses was a lot of rich people giving a lot of money, which is not in itself a bad thing!
 
But then, he witnesses a poor widow put her offering into the box.
 
That widow, relative to everyone else who was putting in their gifts, gave almost nothing.
 
And yet, Jesus notices that she in fact gave more than any of the rich people because she gave everything she had.
 
She gave all that she had left, leaving her without any money to live on. She gave money she really needed.
 
On the other hand, the rich people, even though they gave higher amounts, all gave money they did not need.
 
Parallel to the story of Encanto where everyone with special gifts gave out of their abundance, Mirabel and the widow in our story gave out of their scarcity.
 
But, why does Jesus really draw attention to this poor widow?
 
Many people will argue that he draws attention to her to point out that we should all give everything we have.
 
But I don’t think this is actually what is happening here.
 
Jesus points out this widow because he wants to highlight the lack of justice in a society that would allow a widow to become so poor and destitute.
 
She clearly wants to prioritize her faith and her duty to the temple, but Jesus doesn’t ever tell the poor to give all they have and sacrifice all of themselves to the point where they could not afford to live.
 
And I don’t think that Jesus would sit next to each of us today and tell us to sell everything we own and live in poverty either.
 
But, in pointing out this woman’s poverty, he is calling attention to the fact that so many rich people gladly give to the temple, but completely ignore the poor people in need right in front of them.
 
Much like Mirabel’s family overlooking her very “average” talents because she didn’t receive a singular “special” gift like they all did.
 
Instead of asking themselves why Mirabel had to work so much harder to define herself within the family system, they really should have asked themselves why they didn’t use their gifts – not just their special gifts but all of their unique gifts – to help Mirabel discover what talents she had and how she could use them to help the family in her own way.
 
In other words, there was opportunity for them to change the system in which they lived, but it took Mirabel pushing the bounds of that system before any of them could see in a new way.
 
Likewise, it takes Jesus pointing out the injustice of this poor widow before any of the rich people would take notice of her at all.
 
The two small coins that she gave would have been unimportant and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
 
But the fact that their society was set up to be a very dangerous and insecure world for widows was important and significant, which is why Jesus points it out so directly.
 
He is asking people to notice her.
 
Certainly, notice the sacrifice she’s making in her giving. But more importantly, notice this person who is poor not through any fault of her own, but likely because her husband died, and she had no son who could care for her (as was customary at the time).
 
Notice the injustice of a world where a woman’s only safety net is being married and having sons, and unless she can quickly marry again, losing her husband could be a life sentence of poverty and heartache.
 
This passage is a call to action.
 
A call to notice the injustices of the world.
 
A call to change those injustices if we can.
 
And, as we sang earlier, a call to let our hearts be broken for a world in need.
 
To allow ourselves to love others in such a way that we can see how they might not benefit from the same systems we benefit from.
 
If we open ourselves up to loving people in this way, we have no choice but to notice when the system isn’t set up to care for them.
 
We have no choice but to notice. We sang earlier:
 
“Blessed to be a blessing,
privileged to care,
challenged by the need
apparent ev’rywhere.”
 
“Let your heart be tender
and your vision clear –
rouse yourself to action,
serve God far and near.
Let your heart be broken
by another’s pain,
share your rich resources – 
give and give again.”
 
Our hymns, in case you have not noticed before, are often Biblically based.
 
So, may we let our hearts be broken for a world in need.
 
May we hear Jesus as he tries to help us notice the injustice of the world and the systems that perpetuate poverty.
 
And, may we hear the call to do something about it – or at the very least to acknowledge the ways in which we benefit from the system so that we can notice when there are others who do not.
 
That is what Jesus is asking of the rich people in our passage today.
 
Notice the ways in which the system allows you to be able to give out of your abundance.
 
And, notice when the system keeps someone oppressed so that when they give of themselves, they must give everything they have because that is their only choice.
 
It is a call for us to wake up to the realities of other people’s lives.
 
It is not a call for us to feel guilty about what we do have, but it is a call to be aware that our own realities are not necessarily the same as other people’s realities.
 
If we are to truly love our neighbours, then we must notice when they are affected by a system that keeps them from thriving.
 
So, may we do the hard work that Jesus calls us to do and allow our hearts to break for others – allow ourselves to notice and empathize with the struggle of our neighbours.
 
May we let our hearts be tender, and may we continue to serve God far and near.
 
Amen.
 
Let us pray: God of grace, thank you for sending your Son Jesus to teach us and help us better understand the complexities of human behaviour. Thank you for reminding us that loving others means recognizing injustices and working toward balancing the scales. Jesus demonstrated genuine love and concern for others, and calls us to follow his lead in all things. Amen.