Newsletter Article for December 6th, 2017

This article was originally published in the church Newsletter on December 6th, 2017:    

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

     We are now in the season of Advent. Advent is the season of preparation for the coming of Jesus at his birth. It is a season of expectation and a season of hope. I have been thinking about hope a lot lately. It is a theme that has come up in several sermons as of late, and it will come up often during this month of December.

     Preaching hope has two main pitfalls. On one hand, hope can be preached in a way that diminishes the reality of the sadness, grief, pain, fear and suffering that we face in this world. On the other hand, hope can be preached in a way that mutes the reality of the joy, comfort, and assurance that the good news bring. Hope is so great, precisely because it comes in the face of so many terrible things. We don’t want to be Pollyannaish and say, “Everything will be alright.” We also don’t want to be dark pessimists who are constantly focused on the negative.

     This is why I greatly appreciate simple strings of Christmas lights and candles in windows and prefer them over ostentatious displays of figurines with floodlights on holiday characters. There is something impressive about the Griswold scale light displays and I do make a point to drive by them during the holiday season, but they always seem to be missing something important about this time of year.

     The small little lights give a great glow, in the midst of the darkness. They don’t try to cover up the darkness, as if it were not there, but rather to proclaim that a light shines in the darkness. One of the powerful aspects of Christian hope is that it is honest. It does not deny the harsh reality and terrible effect of suffering in this world. With so many tragedies rocking our world this year, we need this honesty. The world is dark. There have been shootings, bombings, abuse, oppression, misconduct, and on and on. Hope that does not admit to the ever creeping darkness is no hope at all.

     So much of the secular Christmas activities seek to drown our sorrows in a vague Christmas spirit, the indulgence of material goods, and the constant stream of cheerful music. Secular Christmas creates a façade of great joy and good cheer, as if the dark and cold didn’t exist. On the other hand there is the “bah humbug” attitude that only criticizes and puts on a Grinch sized frown on the whole thing. In the midst of all of this, is true Christian hope.

     Advent is a time of hope and it is honest hope. Honest hope that neither despairs, letting itself be lost in fear and grief, nor hope that floats away to some false heavenly utopia.

     So as you see the lights that decorate houses and yards this time of year, remember the words from the Gospel of John, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

   

In Christ,

Scott C. Egbers 

New Town, New Bike Routes

I finally got out on my bike and had a little ride today. I can't believe it has been almost 8 months since I last rode my bike. You can read about the ride here: http://scegbers.blogspot.com/2011/05/14-miles-after-living-here-almost-eight.html

A Christmas Story

Here is a story that I used as the main part of a Christmas Eve sermon:

He had noticed the man and woman out there when he had brought the scraps out for the animals. It was one of his many duties as a servant at the inn. The place was as full as it could be which, he found out, was why that man and woman had to sleep in the stable. He had a lot of work to do with so many people staying over but he was curious about this couple. He could sense that something was going on. So after emptying the bucket and tending the animals he paused for a while, back in the corner behind one of the big cows.

The stable was not very big and it was cramped with the animals. It smelled like dung and sweat and damp straw. There wasn’t a lot of light either but he could see the man and woman huddled together over in the far corner. They looked exhausted and scared. It was quiet, except for the soft sounds of the animals. He always thought the stable was a peaceful place and it was particularly calm on this night. At the same time, there was a certain energy and sense of something mysterious there.

And then he heard a whimper and the cry of a baby. It surprised him and it startled him. He saw it now, nestled down in the straw of the big manger. It was wrapped tightly in dingy strips of cloth. He hadn’t noticed it before because it was so small and who would expect a baby in a stable.

The woman picked the baby up and calmed him like only a mother would. She held him for awhile until he fell back asleep and them she tucked him back into the straw.

Then some shepherds came rushing in, all dirty and smelly, like most shepherds. They were all worked up in a commotion about something. They were talking over each other and babbling about angels and bright lights. He crouched down a little behind the cow. He didn’t like shepherds that much and he was pretty sure they were talking nonsense. Shepherds weren’t very smart anyway. Finally when they had caught their breath they told the woman that an angel had come to them and had told them to come here and find a savior, the Messiah. The woman took all this in and there was something rather matter of fact about her response.

Eventually the shepherds left and the stable was calm and peaceful again.

Looking out from behind this cow that baby didn’t look much like a savior. He was nothing more than a common baby—dirty and crying with his poor parents. If he was the Messiah then why hadn’t the great teachers and priests come and announced it. They were always reading those prophecies about the one to come. Why didn’t the king come to honor him? He might expect the Messiah to show up in the temple or a royal palace, but here in the stable of this dumpy inn? No, he sure didn’t look like much of a savior.

The child lay there, swaddled tightly in those bands of cloth, his arms and legs bound close to keep him calm. The manger was made of thick, sturdy slabs of wood. They were worn around the edges, but strong. They reminded him of the thick timbers that the Romans used to nail up criminals. He had seen a crucifixion once. The criminals were dirty and kept crying out. Their arms and legs were bound so that they could not move them. It was a horrible thing to think about so he tried to focus on something else.

He examined the rocky walls. The stable was like a cave and it reminded him of a tomb. One time he had to help place the body of a wealthy man in a tomb. It was cold and dark and small, sort of like this stable. It sent a chill up his spine to think about that dead body.

It was strange that he would be thinking about such things like crucifixions and death on this night. Especially as he stood there so near to a brand new life and the innocence of a baby; but somehow on this night, in this humble stable, as he witnessed this baby and the shepherds and heard of angels and the Messiah, those sad thoughts were there, hanging in the back of his mind like a shadow, or a premonition.

He wondered who this child was. On one hand he seemed to be nothing more than a peasant baby, dirty, crying and already living a hard life in the manger. On the other hand there was something different about him. All those things the shepherds had said. They seemed pretty convinced and excited and how could they make up such a story. And this child did seem special in some way. It was as if he had some great past behind him, even though he was only a few hours old.

He wondered about these things but he couldn’t stay there in the stable all night. There was much to do in the inn and his master would soon come looking for him. So he quietly left and went back to his work, but he kept thinking about that baby. He kept thinking about what kind of life he would live. What would he do? Would he really be a savior? What child is this?

Newsletter Article December 22nd, 2010

This article was originally published in the churches newsletter. I am posting it here for your perusal:

Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Merry Christmas! I hope and pray that after four weeks of anticipation during Advent, you now find yourselves filled with joy and awe at the birth of a savior. God has become a human, in order to come to us. There is an incredible mystery in this. We can’t really grasp how it happened, but we can be assured that it is reason to celebrate.

There is a lot of talk about “seasons” this time of year. This is the “Holiday Season,” a lot of people are sending out “Seasons Greetings,” the secular Christmas season began sometime before Thanksgiving and comes to an abrupt end right after the 25th.

However, Christmas is not so much a season as it is an event. Sure, the church also has a Christmas season, which begins on the 25th and ends on Epiphany, Jan 6th, but that season is about a singular event: God becoming human.

The Christmas season, as we know it in our modern world, is about cookies and gifts and family gatherings. It is about children with visions of sugar plums and the warm sentiments of charity and goodwill toward all. These are all great things, but they are peripheral to the event. In the center or it all is the birth of a child who is God.

God became a human being. That is the event and as St. Paul writes “Without any doubt, the mystery of our religion is great.” This is the mystery of God, who is infinite, and powerful, and eternal, becoming finite, weak, and mortal. There is no logical way to explain this. It is a miracle and a mystery.

We don’t have to explain it though. We know that it is great news. So we celebrate this good news with a season of festivities. We celebrate with cookies and gifts and family gatherings. We are joyous about this mystery and that joy wells up into warm sentiments of charity and goodwill toward all.

Now that we are past most of the December Christmas bustle, I hope you have some time to think about the mystery of God becoming human. It is a deep and profound mystery that inspires both fear and hope. God is no longer far away. God is right here, walking and breathing and living among us. There is no telling what He will do, but one thing is for sure: this world will never be the same now.

With all the peace that a Savior brings...

Mid-December Newsletter Article

This article was published in the mid-December newsletter:

“But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.” -Luke 10:38-42

December is undoubtedly a busy time of the year. People are focused on school Christmas programs, community Christmas events, making Christmas cookies, and of course buying Christmas presents, wrapping Christmas presents, and receiving Christmas presents. There are Christmas parties to go to and Christmas gift exchanges. There is Christmas decorating to be done and Christmas cards to be sent. And then the day comes and there is Christmas worship to attend and family gatherings to get through.

Every year pastors try to help people to understand and experience the Advent season and every year the secular Christmas machine rolls through December, yelling “Merry Christmas, celebrate this holiday season with merriment (and a lot of spending too, of course).” And it drowns out the words of the prophets, “Prepare the way of the Lord” and “Repent for the kingdom of heaven is near.”

In the secular world December is the Christmas season, with all its festivities and celebration, but in the church December is the Advent season, a time of reflection, anticipation, and preparation. We are not yet celebrating the coming of a savior; we are observing and reflecting on just how much we need that savior. We have been told that the Christ is coming to shine as a light in this world, and as we anticipate his coming, we take an honest look at just how dark this world is. Sometimes we forget how dark the night is, until we see the first light of dawn.

Too often we are so focused on getting ready for Christmas and the Christmas season, that we don’t have time to prepare for the coming of the Christ. We are a lot like Martha, distracted by many things, when there is need of only one thing. We get so busy with our traditions that we lose sight of our need for a savior and God’s promise to send one.

Take time during this Advent season and consider what it means for a savior to come into the world and into your life. In order to do this, you will have to seriously consider what you need to be saved from and how much you need a savior. In the midst of all the hustle and bustle, stop and reflect on who you are and who Jesus is.

One concrete way to contemplate the coming messiah is to set up a nativity scene putting only the livestock in the stable: the cattle and donkeys and sheep. Before Jesus was born, the stable was just a barn where animals lived. There were no angels there, no Mary and Joseph, no shepherds, no wise men. They all came later. What would the world be like if God had not sent them at all? What is the world like without Jesus Christ?

We are distracted by many things, but there is need of only one thing: a Savior, God himself, and he is coming.

With Anticipation and Hope...

First's at First

My first day at First Evangelical Lutheran Church was on Sept 1st. That was also the first time I led a funeral service. Since then I have had many firsts. I conducted my first baptism Sept 19th. It was the son of the first neighbors that I met when I moved to town. I officiated a wedding for the first time on October 9th. This is the first time I have had to preach every Sunday. I own a house for the first time. And this is the first time I have moved somewhere without knowing when I would be moving away.

All these firsts are overwhelming. Everything takes a lot of prep work and organizing. There aren't a lot of established protocols because I have not established them yet. And yet I know that soon enough I will be at the other end of this journey and I will be experiencing a series of lasts.

No Resolve

I could, and perhaps should, resolve to write something on this blog every day. It would help me to be more disciplined and to be a better writer. I could resolve to read through the entire Bible this year. That would help me to be a better pastor and theologian. I could resolve to stay in touch more with friends who live at a distance. There are probably 20 letters that I should write right now. I could resolve to go to bed earlier, to eat better, to ride 100 miles a week, or to read all of Kurt Vonnegut's novels.

However, only one in five resolutions is kept and what is so significant about our changing calendar that is going to motivate me to do any of these things anyway? Why should I make big plans for my life starting on an otherwise random day in the middle of the winter?

I'm not going to resolve anything this year. (I don't remember ever keeping a New Year's resolution anyway.) I do think it is important to look back and evaluate and then move forward with resolve, but I'll do that at significant times in my life, not significant points in our twelve month calendar system. When I graduate, I'll look back and look forward and make commitments for my life, or maybe when I take my first call, or start a new semester. Those events may be important enough to give me the resolve to reach some goal or make some change, but right now 2010 doesn't seem to be any different than 2009.