​The Message
 
How many people here enjoy doing puzzles?
 
I love doing puzzles! In fact, I brought one of my puzzles today as a visual aid.
 
Can anyone tell me which piece of this puzzle is the most important piece?
 
You really can’t tell me which piece is the most important.
 
But, just because we can’t say which specific piece is the most important doesn’t mean that none of them are important!
 
All of the pieces of this puzzle are important. Do you know how I know that?
 
Because when I put this puzzle together and got to the very end, I realized it’s missing a piece.
 
Right smack dab in the middle of the puzzle, a piece is missing.
 
That missing piece sure is important! It might even have become the most important piece simply by not being there.
 
The individual pieces of a puzzle seemingly aren’t all that important on their own until one goes missing. Then we realize just how important each and every piece is if we want a whole and complete puzzle!
 
Sometimes I think we see ourselves as puzzle pieces within our family, our community, or our church.
 
Sometimes we believe we aren’t all that important in the grand scheme of things.
 
Or, we believe that we have to do more, say more, be more, or be better in order to matter to others or to God.
 
I talked with someone once about baptism, and they said they just weren’t sure because they didn’t feel they were worthy. They didn’t go to church enough, they didn’t feel they followed the Bible well enough, and they didn’t read scripture or pray enough.
 
I’m sad to say that church often teaches people to believe that because they aren’t good enough Christians, they are unworthy of God’s grace.
 
Often, people think they must be perfect before they can enter God’s kingdom or receive God’s grace and love.
 
People think they must be the perfect puzzle piece – the best piece in the box, shining before God and perfectly molded to fit into whatever box the church has taught them they must fit into.
 
But we hear Paul saying something different in his letter to the Corinthians.
 
How many of the people of Corinth do you think were feeling unworthy to be part of the Christian community?
 
I’m guessing quite a few if Paul had to tell them these things.
 
The passage right before today’s was the one we heard last week about spiritual gifts.
 
Paul is working hard to convince the people of Corinth that they matter! Not only do they matter to God, but they matter to each other.
 
Paul uses the analogy of the human body to illustrate his point.
 
He says, “The body of Christ has many different parts, just as any other body does.”
 
He goes on to say that no matter our background, no matter our current position in life, we are each baptized by the Spirit and have been made a part of the Body of Christ.
 
Just like our bodies don’t have just one part, neither does the church body have just one part.
 
One might argue that unlike a puzzle, in which all pieces are equally important, our bodies do have some parts that are more important than others.
 
However, tell that to someone who is missing one of those “insignificant” parts!
 
The parts of our bodies all work together to help us function.
 
Certainly, we can get by without some parts of our bodies.
 
However, try telling someone who had major organ issues that certain parts aren’t important!
 
My dad had heart issues. That particular body part is pretty darn important. But, when they treated the issues he had with his heart, that process destroyed his kidneys.
 
Fixing the kidneys required impacting his already weakened heart.
 
Not to mention the toll his medications took on his GI tract, his liver, and his muscles!
 
Paul’s point, as he says, is that “God put our bodies together in such a way that even the parts that seem the least important are valuable. He did this to make all parts of the body work together smoothly, with each part caring about the others. If one part of our body hurts, we hurt all over. If one part of our body is honored, the whole body will be happy.”
 
Likewise, we are all part of the body of Christ.
 
Each one of us, with our own unique gifts and talents, with our own fears and insecurities, are part of Christ’s body.
 
Each one of us is worthy to be a part of Christ’s body, and that is important for us to remember.
 
We don’t just believe in Christ, we are a part of Christ! And in this way, it is an honor to be part of Christ’s body.
 
Jesus was not raised from the dead as an individual, Jesus was raised from the dead in a community.
 
And, to this day, we have the privilege of being a part of that community!
 
And in that unity with Christ, we are not called to merely love one another. We are all a part of each other.
 
Paul is suggesting something much bigger than ourselves.
 
Paul is suggesting that we are all connected; we all have something to offer; and we all need each other.
 
We need each other’s individual gifts, all of us different and all of us necessary, like all the different organs in a body, or parts of a living cell.
 
All the parts are distinct, but only as part of the whole. So when you love your neighbor as yourself you don’t just love them as much as you love yourself, you love them as part of yourself, as yourself!
 
This is a radical suggestion that Paul is making, because it sure can be difficult to love some people as much as we try to love ourselves, let alone to love them as part of ourselves!
 
Think about someone you know of who you find incredibly difficult to be around, or who holds such vastly different views from you that you just cannot fathom loving them.
 
Now, imagine loving that person as a part of yourself.
 
That is not easy!
 
But, in some ways, it might be easier to think about loving the parts of ourselves that we don’t always like. Perhaps the person that came to mind has some qualities that you see in yourself that you don’t always like.
 
If we think about it in this way, we could imagine working to love those parts of ourselves that we don’t always like, and then working to try to love other people as though they are also a part of us.
 
It makes me think about Paul’s example of the eyes saying they don’t need the hands, or the head saying it doesn’t need the feet.
 
Maybe sometimes our heads think we don’t really need our feet.
 
But at the end of the day, it would be much harder for our heads to navigate the world without our feet, and it would be difficult for our eyes to navigate the world without our hands.
 
Our eyes cannot pick things up and hold them. Our eyes cannot know how something feels merely by looking at it.
 
Our eyes cannot hug a loved one, or hold our partner’s hand, or play an instrument, or determine if something is hot or cold.
 
Likewise, we may think we don’t need certain people in our lives, and perhaps we don’t need to be close to them. But those people we don’t fully understand or don’t get along with are valuable to the world, too.
 
They are also a valuable part of the body of Christ. Without them, the body is not whole.
 
So, as Paul encouraged the people of Corinth to love one another and think of each other as members of the same body, let us leave here with a better understanding of what it means to be part of the body of Christ.
 
Let us remember that we are worthy of God’s love and we are a welcome addition to the body of Christ, and so are our neighbors, our friends, our families, and even our “enemies.”
 
May we remember that we are called not just to love one another as we love ourselves, but to love others as a part of ourselves.
 
May we remember that we all help to bring wholeness to the body of Christ. We are connected and we need each other just as we need God.
 
This may not always be an easy task, but it is a necessary task as we imagine a world in which all people are worthy to sit at the table with Christ as part of his body. Amen.
 
Spirit of the living God, we praise and adore you for empowering us to claim membership of the body of Christ, a gift received through the fullness of your grace. Remind us that we are all members of the one body and if one member suffers, we all suffer. May we, as the body of Christ in this place, be the best evidence of your love by declaring and witnessing to this as the year of the Lord’s favour for all people. We give thanks that all of us are Christ’s body, and rejoice in each one being a part of it. Accept our adoration and praise for these great gifts. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

​Young at Heart Message
 
I know this isn’t great timing, but I have to be honest with you, I’m starving. I really need a snack.
 
Do you all mind if I have a quick snack?
 
It’ll only take a minute - I promise - and then we can get back to our regularly scheduled worship service.
 
I have some bread here in case of a hunger emergency, but I don’t have much else to make a sandwich.
 
Is there any chance any of you have some peanut butter?
 
How about jam? Anyone have jam?
 
OK, now I need a knife, and probably a plate too.
 
And, this is embarrassing, but can anyone tell me how to make a peanut butter sandwich?
 
*We work together to make a peanut butter sandwich*
 
Wow, thank you all so much for working together to help make sure my stomach doesn’t rumble too much during worship!
 
It was pretty lucky that some of you thought you might need a snack during worship today too and brought stuff to make a peanut butter sandwich.
 
But, like me, none of you had everything you needed to make a sandwich.
 
Each of us had just one important part of the sandwich-making process.
 
But, by working together and combining the items we brought, we were able to create a sandwich that we could all benefit from (if we cut it into small enough pieces).
 
And that is how you do a sermon on Spiritual Gifts! We all have our own gifts, we should all use those gifts to help each other, and we should respect and honour the gifts of others. Amen!
 
The Message
 
OK, that’s not really the end of the sermon.
 
But, that is often how sermons on Spiritual Gifts go, isn’t it?
 
Some variation of “we all have gifts and we should use them to work together and help others.”
 
Except, as with most things, it isn’t always that simple.
 
When I was in grade 7, I was asked to do an oral report in Social Studies class as a partner project with my cousin.
 
I don’t remember preparing for that report at all, but I do remember giving the report. The only thing I remember is that we took turns giggling throughout the entire thing.
 
I don’t think we even managed to present anything coherent to the class. You would not have believed then that I would be public speaking for a living today!
 
I think that was probably when I started to dislike having to do group projects in school.
 
In theory, I understand the benefit of group projects. But in reality, it always seems that no matter what, a few people tend to do all of the work on a group project, and then everyone gets the same grade, regardless of how much work each person put into the project.
 
Now, I’ve had to do a few group presentations more recently as part of my seminary experience, and I will say that it has gone slightly better.
 
But in general, group projects can be difficult.
 
We like to think we can each use our own gifts and talents to benefit the group, but often we end up doing something we aren’t well-suited for, or something we don’t really want to do.
 
Sometimes, no one else wants to do that piece. Other times, no one else has the skill set, and you don’t either, but you come closer than some of the other people.
 
I remember my very first year at dog sports camp in Montana, we had a group relay event at the very end of camp.
 
It was a competition which involved four different activities that the dogs had to do: a short agility course, lure coursing, nose work, and carrying an egg on a spoon without breaking it as you walked your dog on leash.
 
A different person had to do each of the activities so that each member of the group did one thing with their dog.
 
My dog was a Bernese Mountain Dog. He wasn’t suited for agility, nose work, or lure coursing. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things.
 
The only thing he could do was walk politely on leash so I could carry an egg on a spoon without breaking it.
 
Did I really want to do that activity? No way! I would have preferred one of the other, more exciting, activities. But, my dog’s skill set only allowed him to do the boring egg-carrying activity.
 
Group “projects” can be challenging, and while we each hope we can divide the work evenly and each person can use their individual gifts and talents, it doesn’t always work out that way in practice.
 
Take ministry, for example. It happens in ministry, too, that the same people tend to do most of the work, or that people end up doing work they aren’t really suited for because no one else will.
 
And, we shouldn’t be surprised by this. It happens in every group when people come together to try to meet a common goal.
 
Even Jesus acknowledged that the labor to laborer ratio is unbalanced in Matthew 9:37, when he said “the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few.”
 
Churches ultimately are an investment in people, for better or for worse.
 
We support the work we believe we have been called to do. But, we cannot be expected to do that work alone, and we cannot bear the burden of doing the work of ministry on our own.
 
We need one another. That is why Paul reminds us so emphatically in his first letter to the Corinthians that every gift given by the Spirit was given for the common good.
 
Every gift was given for the benefit of the entire community of which we are a part.
 
As bearers of these gifts of the Spirit, we are called to use them to benefit our own church community, and the world around us.
 
But, very often in churches, the same people end up doing all the work because they believe that if they don’t do it, no one else will.
 
So, even if they aren’t enjoying the work, or if they have started to burn out on the work, they continue to do it because of this belief that it is their burden to bear and no one else’s.
 
But, it is also true that this is often not the case at all. Sometimes, people don’t step up to do certain work because someone else is already responsible for it.
 
So instead of offering to help, they figure they aren’t needed because others are already doing the work.
 
This is how the same people tend to end up doing the bulk of the work, and how misunderstandings can happen.
 
It is also possible that those who have been doing the work a long time have a hard time passing the baton to someone else.
 
These are the dynamics that happen in every church community or organization that invest in people.
 
There are always ways we can use our own spiritual gifts and remain involved in ministries even as we encourage and uplift others and bring them alongside us to do the good work that we do.
 
It doesn’t have to be an either/or. It can be a both/and scenario.
 
We can simultaneously do the work we have been doing for a very long time while also encouraging others to join us in that work, inviting them to use their own gifts and bring along new ideas to support the work we already do.
 
Sometimes, as difficult as it might be, doing group work may mean stepping aside and allowing others to use their own spiritual gifts to benefit the community as well.
 
We are not called to do this work alone. If we can lift each other up, encourage, and support one another, we may just see that more people start getting involved, and it feels less like the same people are always doing all the work.
 
Uplifting one another and celebrating each other’s gifts is what we are called to do with one another.
 
So let us leave here today ready to do the work we are called to do, but also ready to encourage the gifts of others.
 
When we become a member of a church community, we automatically become part of one big group project.
 
The only way we remain successful in ministry is if we celebrate the gifts we were given and the gifts others were given, and use all of them to make the most delicious (metaphorical) peanut butter sandwich around. Amen.
 
Generous God, we thank you for the gifts of the Spirit which you have bestowed upon each of us. We pray that you would guide us and teach us to use the gifts you have entrusted us with, and we pray that you would help us wisely encourage others to use their gifts. Together, we pray that you would help us work to make your world a better place. In your Holy name, we pray. Amen.

​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.