Impromptu Children's Sermons...

It can be said that my godson Thomas is too smart for his own good.  I have zero claim on that one.  His parents are some of the most loving, caring, and intelligent people.  The apple fell right next to the tree on this one.  Thomas has more energy in his little 7 year old body than should be physically possible, and he keeping up with him is a full time job.  But his parents more than do that, he’s been raised with southern manners, he reads like he’s in 5^th grade, has a compassionate nature & watchful eye that blesses so many people, and a deep love of terrible knock-knock jokes.  What Thomas doesn’t realize is that since before he has been born, he has only imitating what his parents live out, including how they follow Jesus.  I could shamelessly brag all day long, but let me just share one more story.

A few weeks ago, Thomas and his family came up and were helping at a mission conference and training for my job.  It was an amazing conference and weekend, but just as busy as you would imagine.  Thomas has grown up in the church and was so patient, helping out as much as a 7 year old boy could before the real fun happened when the conference ended.  The last morning of the conference as small groups were working, I had a few things to help finish up for the closing commissioning worship service.  Thomas had already stolen the hearts of quite a few of my colleagues and was talking with them, but he was up for an adventure.  As we quite literally skipped up to my office, he was so gracious to help me as we were collating and stapling papers.  Because he is too smart for his own good, he was reading the order of the worship service and one of the litanies that was printed on the paper.  I didn’t realize how much his little sponge brain soaks in, until he paused from stapling and said:  “Miss Jenny, what does the world “holy” mean?”  I chuckled and we talked about it while we finished stapling papers interspersed with excitement about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle he was going to make at Build a Bear that afternoon.

As we were leaving the office and headed to join the rest of the conference, my boss had come in.  I fully admit that before I spoke, I knew I was about to give my boss a bit of a hard time—he’s a wonderful, talented individual, but I knew he wouldn’t expect what was about to happen.  I stopped and introduced Thomas to Bishop John—admittedly, Thomas is adorable with those southern manners.  Then I winked at him and said, “Thomas, do you remember the question you asked me before?  Why don’t we ask Bishop John.”  Thankfully Bishop John was already clued in to my shenanigans in life and so he smiled as Thomas said politely, “Bishop John, what does the world holy mean?”

Impromptu children’s sermon.

Clearly, Thomas is too smart for his own good, but in a flash, Bishop John got down on Thomas’ level and said, “Well, Thomas—in the original Hebrew, the word holy can also mean strange or weird…”  So they hung out for a few minutes and chatted., and yes, only Thomas would have any idea that the Bible wasn’t first written in English.  Bishop John then moved up 22 points on Thomas’ favorite person list as he responded, “coooooooool.”  What can I say, I have to keep my boss on his toes.

It’s strange how in life God seems to constantly bring the same themes around over and over again until we begin to get the point.  This story has been ringing in my ears for the last few weeks (not only because it’s fun to tease my boss a little bit), and it found its climax in today’s Scripture reading in my personal devotion time:

“Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories. It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you, in the things that have now been announced to you through those who preached the good news to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, things into which angels long to look.

 “Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.  As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.”

And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. He was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was made manifest in the last times for the sake of you who through him are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.”  -I Peter 1.8-21

As this Advent season begins, we are constantly faced with the challenges of being resident aliens.  Living in this home of ours but not as citizens of this kingdom.  We work, play, and live in this beautiful place while we have been set apart and called to something else.  It’s a challenge to not be caught up-- as aliens-- in fully taking on the culture of that around us.  However, it’s not as simple or easy to live at the other end of the spectrum of “us and them.”  Then we have missed the point entirely.  Sacred and secular are not separated for us, so what does it mean to be “set apart” during this advent season?  To be holy?  Or “weird?”

Far too often we associate “holiness” with moralism.  It’s a small piece of the puzzle, I suppose, but it’s something that’s so much more.  We skim over this passage in 1st Peter because we’ve heard it so many times as we race towards the second chapter in 1^st Peter.  We make it about rules and regulation, realizing that we’re never going to be perfect, and we in our Lutheran tribe dance around the subject, briefly dabbling in the dangerous arena of saying “oh-those are Old Testament laws, they aren’t really…”  The best of intentions…

What if we take a step back for a moment and return to the context of what Peter is quoting?  Leviticus--not such a boring book, although difficult to read straight through at times.  It’s a beautiful gift that actually deals with this idea of “holiness.” 

But it’s not a book primarily written about how we should be holy as people, the rules to follow, and the moralistic attitudes that tend to get us in trouble as Christians.  Rather—it’s a book that talks about furniture.  Objects.  “Things” that are holy.  The prescribed manner in which they are to be handled, built, used…

Then how can Peter quote Leviticus 11 here?  Because Peter is speaking of what it means to belong to God.  It is beautiful, intense and personal.  For it is possible to follow all the rules but not “belong” to God.  Peter wants us to understand the difference.

This is a claim of deep love.  Of devotion.   Adoption.  To be set apart.

In the Gospel of John, we read Jesus’ words where he talks about being sanctified for our sake.  No longer is the shekinah glory leading the chosen people of God by day and by night.  Or on a mountain top so frightening that a fence must be built along the base of the mountain so you don’t actually come too near.  Or that the face of a man must be covered because the reflection of this glory upon his face is too much for people.

Holiness now touches every dark corner of our lives.  For God’s matchless grace and love for a people that He had set apart was so great that He devoted Himself by humbling Himself.  By choosing to tabernacle among and come near.  From one tree to another.  Darkness to light.  Death to resurrection.

We are a people set apart.  Not by fulfilling the “minimum” requirements, following the rules or trying to separate the sacred from the secular.  We are a people that are set apart because God dared to call us His own and to be near.  So very near in fact that no longer does the shekinah glory lead at a distance, but the Spirit is poured into us as the water of baptism is poured over us.

So this Advent season we have a choice.  Sweet surrender to the One who has dared to set us apart and call us His own.  To give ourselves away.  To be swallowed up in the ocean of grace.  Again and again and again.  To stop fighting the current that sweeps over us and rather embrace the sweet freedom to be in relationship with the one who ransomed us “not with perishable things such as silver or gold but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.” 

We are a people who live in hope.  For though we have not seen him, we love him.  Though we do not see him, we believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of our faith, the salvation of our souls.