Once upon a time…it was a dark and stormy night

This week’s sermon. We are working through a worship series in Advent titled “On Earth as it is in Heaven”

You can follow this link to Good Shepherd’s website where the audio is posted.

Isaiah 11:1-10 • Matthew 3:1-12 • December 5, 2010

Brothers and sisters in Christ, grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
This passage in Isaiah is one of my favorites. It paints a picture with some of my deepest hopes and dreams for the world and communities in which we live. Even though Isaiah’s vision is probably not the reality in which most of us live. We long for a world in which the wolf can live in harmony with the lamb; the cow and the bear graze peacefully together in the meadow; an infant is playfully hanging out with one of the most deadly snakes know to humankind – simply enjoying each others’ company. A cast of natural enemies that no longer see themselves as enemies at all.
Isaiah’s time is full of extreme unrest and war. Just when things seem to appear completely lost and the future holds little hope of anything good ever existing again, this prophet comes along and offer a promise from God that includes someone being sent who will rule with justice toward all, and with mercy toward the most vulnerable. We hear of this one rising like the branch that grows from the root of the stump of a tree. The stump of the tree that looks dead and lifeless with no meaning and no hope for anything in the future. And out of this desolation new life comes.
It’s difficult to think of the desolation that Isaiah speaks of at this time of the year. We are bombarded with one happy Christmas scene after another. There seems to be an endless stream of Christmas movies and songs. I actually stopped long enough to watch one of my favorites Christmas movies the other day. A Charlie Brown Christmas. As I was watching this movie and thinking about our worship together today, I remembered a different Charlie Brown movie – one that has this great scene where the wonderful theologian Snoopy is working feverishly on a new novel. He begins his story in the same way he begins every story he writes, “It was a dark and stormy night…” Lucy happens to walk into the scene and takes one look at what Snoopy has written and goes crazy about the ridiculous way his story is beginning. She shouts back at Snoopy, “Don’t you know that all good stories start with, “Once upon a time…”
So our wise theologian Snoopy starts his story again. He writes, “Once upon a time, it was a dark and stormy night…”
Don’t you just feel like that some times? No matter how you try to begin your story with “once upon a time,” it often begins with, “It was a dark and stormy night.”
Isaiah gives us a picture of a “once upon a time” world that is nothing like the “dark and stormy night” world in which he lives. The gospel writer of Matthew introduces us very quickly to the “Once upon a time…” story of Jesus birth – in a few short verses at the beginning of his gospel – and quickly transports the story to the “it was a dark and stormy night” world in which the wild and crazy preacher and baptizer John the Baptist was living.
One of my favorite pastors and theologians is Henri Nouwen. Nouwen once wrote, “The small child of Bethlehem, the unknown young man of Nazareth, the rejected preacher, the naked man on the cross, HE asks for my full attention. The work of our salvation takes place in the midst of a world that continues to shout, scream, and overwhelm us with it claims and promises. But the promise is hidden in the shoot that sprouts from the stump, a shoot that hardly anyone notices.”
Our faith does not just challenge us with what we see right in front of us. It challenges our very identity as living creatures in the world. It challenges us to believe in something that we do not yet see. At least, something that we do not think we see. It takes faith to believe that God is really at work in this broken world, making it right, shedding a little “once upon a time…” into our stories when all we seem to see before us are stories that begin with “it was a dark and stormy night.”
Advent sheds light on the new hope of God’s activity in our lives. God’s coming to us in Jesus breaks through every “dark and stormy night…” that may cause thoughts or deeds or actions to separate us from each other and from God. John the Baptist may sound a little excited and crazy and even a bit angry and out of control. God coming to us in Jesus is a big deal. It should cause us to scream and shout just a little bit. With the arrival of Jesus that John is proclaiming, newness has come into the world that radically changes everything forever. New life that emerges from the stump of a tree that nobody noticed before as anything but a dead tree. I think Snoopy was on to something.
We live today as a congregation celebrating the “once upon a time, it was a dark and story night…” stories that we share in the second of our three 50th Anniversary celebrations today. Jesus’ presence among us as a community of faith has caused our story to change a time or two along the way. The stories that we share have at times begun with “It was a dark and stormy night.” But we also celebrate the many “once upon a time” stories when the wolf has lain down with the lamb and the cow and the bear have shared a meal together. There are countless times when Jesus’ presence in our congregation has caused unexpected and amazing things to happen, just like a shoot growing from a stump that we thought was dead.
During Advent, we wait and hope and pray for the one to come who will change us forever and restore peace and justice to this world. My hope is that we don’t forget how the story begins and just how incredible that beginning was, how incredible that beginning is for the world in which we live today, and how incredible that beginning will be for the world that is to come. The Apostle Paul in the book of Romans writes, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” As people of faith, we confidently live believing that our “once upon a time, it was a dark and stormy night” stories are always filled with the hope and light, and justice and peace, of the coming Savior – on Earth as it is in Heaven. Amen.


There Once Was a World by Peter L. Steinke

There Once Was a World
by Peter L. Steinke

There once was a world where the church functioned according to what some have called the “attractional” model (others have named it the participatory model). People come to a place, consume the spiritual goods, and serve as patrons to “meet the budget.” But a shift has happened. North American culture has taken new turns.

Christendom refers to a period of time when the Christian faith profoundly informed the culture. And, in turn, the culture carried the traditions, symbols, and rituals of the Christian faith. Another often-used term—post-Christian era—captures the reality that the importance and influence of Christianity in North American society has been in decline for at least three decades. In a “post-Christian” world, the church cannot expect favorable treatment or higher visibility.

One could say that a gathering storm—a confluence of factors—has assailed the church and its dominant perch on the societal ladder. None of this has to do with the church’s internal functioning. The sea change is external or contextual. There once was a world that was eager to be hospitable to Christian churches and supported “blue laws,” soccerless Sundays, eating fish rather than meat on Friday, public prayer in schools and at nodal events, deferring to clergy by way of discounts, weekly religion sections in urban newspapers, and greeting others with “Merry Christmas.” Now, suddenly, with steep changes happening in our society, congregations have to ask themselves whether they are responding to a world that no longer exists.

The loss of members, influence, and a sense of mission—the church’s misfortune of the moment—resembles the experience of Israel’s exile. The lesson of the present dislocation is clear, if still not learned. The era of Christendom is gone. No longer is culture subsidizing and supporting churches.

Today’s rapidly changing world is pressing the church to respond to a shift of paradigms—but not for the first time. In previous shifts, the church has both responded slowly and responded imaginatively. More than once, much of what people have thought and done has had to be reworked.

Each shift carried both danger and opportunity. In today’s context, the church is challenged by the astonishing pace of change in the world. We are in some ways ill prepared to act rapidly, since the church is as an entity made up of people who are creatures of nature, subject to seasons, rhythms, and stages. We cannot be mechanically geared for shifting quickly.

Regardless of the nature of change, the church affirms that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the God who has been active in history and who will be active in the future. Faced with a strange new world, the church is challenged to be true to its purpose and attuned to its context. I believe the paradigm shift of rapid change constitutes a rich opportunity for the church. God has set the door open to the future. But the new day is as perplexing as it is promising. As Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann explains, “It is abundantly and unmistakably clear that we are in a deep dislocation in our society that touches every aspect of our lives.” We are living in a new context where old certainties are disappearing, old institutions are less dependable, old assumptions are questionable, and old neighborhoods are less cohesive. Logically, if not spiritually, we may even have to allow for the possibility that these dislocations could be part of God’s new creation. It may be God working through the unknown that contributes to the destabilization of the world. God is no stranger to Eden’s deportation, Babel’s scattering, the exodus, the exile, and crucifixion. God can be surprising, mysterious, taking history into unexpected turns.

The challenge of change for a congregation on a steady downward slope is precisely to redefine and redirect its mission. They have to realize that decline is not an end to mission. Yes, they are mere shadows of their past. Yes, rethinking mission is difficult, for congregations are burdened by big or deteriorating buildings, smaller staffs, a paucity of young families, and a shortage of hope. But expansion is not the sole gauge of mission orientation. One problem with this thinking is the belief that, for congregations, all things are equal. But congregations are not in the same place, same stage, or same circumstance. That’s not reality.

Congregations may hanker for a technique that will bring about results they want to achieve; they want to replicate what has been discovered by someone else: “Give me a copy of the wonderful plans.” Seeing what those plans have done for others, they want the same result—but without going through the process that got the others to that point. The shortcut of imitation certainly bypasses a lot of pain. How churches hunger for precisely this situation.

Meaningful, lasting outcomes are the result of the journey and the learning that takes place. Maybe a word of caution should be stamped on all programs: “Not transferable.” Transition time is life’s curriculum. Being on the path opens new insight; being on the path, not the steps one takes, is the very condition necessary for learning.

The Bible is replete with stories of transition and exile. Jacob, who was always a wimpy character, is on his way to meet the brother he tricked and fooled. He struggles with an angel on the wet banks of the Jabbok River, and out of the struggle finds strength to meet his brother. Jesus spends forty days in the wilderness—alone, hungry, numb—and the devil tempts him three times. The process of thinking, testing, and exploring contains the lessons. Churches need to remember that no handbook is available on freelancing mission. Only by going out, being there, and seeing from a fresh angle will the process lead to learning. Discovering how to respond to shifts and changes is the learning. Self-confidence is a byproduct. But growth is in the struggle, the push, and the journey.

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