Joy

Friday Night, December 11th
(Nope, the video above isn't mine, but it was similar to what I describe below)
I'm at PDX - the airport - writing tonight while I wait for Amanda to come home from college for Christmas break.  I ended up being here a bit early, so I'm waiting for Amanda where people walk by security after they get off their planes.  It's kind of cool to watch people as they arrive.  Most arrivals around Christmas are very joyful.

• A young soldier just walked through security, met by a  happy young wife and two excited children who look too young to really understand what's happening.  All they know is that they get to cling to a dad who's been gone for too long.  
• A woman just arrived and was met by her pregnant sister.  They hug and the happy future aunt bends over to kiss her sister's protruding tummy.  They smile and laugh.  Towering over them, in the background, is the soon-to-be dad.  He gazes at his growing family with great content.  
• Then there's the grandfather who has been trying to corral his three small grandkids for about 45 minutes.  It isn't working and his patience is just about gone.  These little monsters have been running around the rows of chairs.  They're all ready for momma to get back from a five day trip to somewhere.  When she arrives, they sprint to her shouting, "Mamma!  You're home! You're back!"  Grandad gets the last hug, but no one is happier to see mamma home than he.

I've noticed that romantic welcome-home hugs are long and close; often silent - as if it's finally time for a melding of flesh and hearts.  Friend hugs are shorter and people often sway from side to side while talking.  Women hold the hugee's face in their hands and step back to take a look at that face.  Men may give each other a hug, but men's hugs include hearty slaps on the back.

Joy seems to be the one constant in each of these reunions.

Zephaniah. When's the last time you thought to yourself, "Hey, I think I'll brush up on the old book by Zeph today!"  Can you even think of the last time you read anything from this "minor prophet?" Twelve prophets in the Old Testament are called "minor prophets" not because they are less important but because they are simply shorter books.  So why don't we read old Zeph more often?  Well, it might be because he delivered mostly bad news.  And although we seem to love bad news at 6 & 11 PM, we don't like it in the bible.  We want "gospel" (good news).

Tucked into the last chapter of all the bad news Zephaniah delivers is, at last, some good news.  More than that, it's Joy.  Promises that the story won't have a terrible, downer ending.  But that God will do what God always does - turn the saddest, most disappointing story into a very joy filled reunion with his people.  Joy is what we'll consider in the message this 3rd Sunday of Advent.
- Curtis

Making a Way

Isaiah 40:1-11
It's supposed to be easy for me. I'm a pastor, after all. It's what we do, right - talk to people about God; help people to discover that God is real and present for them. And sometimes it is easier.
I remember a Christmas party many years ago, that we attended for Ana's work in San Francisco. One of Ana's co-workers came up to me and said, "You're in the ministry right?" "Yes," I replied. "Well, I have a lot of questions about Jeremiah. I've never read the bible before, but I started reading Jeremiah, and I don't get it. Explain it to me." And so, right there in the middle of Christmas cheer, we had an hour long discussion about Jeremiah - not one of the simplest books to begin with, but that's where she was. If it were a scene from a movie, this story would end with a group of people gathering around while I waxed eloquently with deep wisdom from the scriptures and charming humor. No movie ending here. She asked lots of questions, some of which stumped me, and anyone that happened to listen in for a few minutes would wander quietly off. But this woman was truly hungry for God.
It doesn't often happen like that, especially at events where people don't know what I do. Normally it goes something like this...
(New acquaintance): "What do you do for a living?"
(Me): "I'm the pastor of a church."
(NA): "Oh."
Sudden awkward silence as the new acquaintance works through confusion about what "pastor" means, fear of impending spiritual attack, and sudden self-consciousness of the drink they are holding.
Such interactions used to bother me. I felt like a spiritual leper. But now I see them as an enjoyable challenge. What can I do to break through the pastor's stereotype and strike up a conversation? What I've found is that most people will bring the talk back to something about God if they find that I'm not going to pounce on them. They really do want to know about godly things, they just don't want to be assaulted.
Perhaps you experience the same sort of thing when people find out you are a Christian, or that you go to church. This week's passage in Isaiah 40 was the one that Luke interpreted as talking about John the Baptist's work to prepare people for Jesus' arrival. John the B was sent to "prepare the way" for the Messiah. This Sunday we'll look at how these old words might apply to our relationships with others - how we can level things out for people to know God. We'll talk about what Isaiah says, what John the B did, and how that might look in our lives today.
- Curtis