Monday, January 12, 2015

Journey to South Sudan




Dear Brothers and Sisters,

From January 13 - 27,  Pastor Susan will be traveling with a group of 5 other pastors from Pittsburgh Presbytery in South Sudan.  On January 18, our guest preacher will be Rev. Ayana Teter,  Pittsburgh Presbytery's Associate Minister for Outreach.  On January 25, Mr. Alan Olson, a candidate for ministry in Pittsburgh Presbytery, will preach.  Pastor Susan will return to the pulpit on February 1.

Below, you will find information about where the group will be going and suggestions for prayer each day.  You will also find a link to the blog of Rev. Dave Carver, which will be updated during the trip.

Please pray not only for the safe travels of those going to South Sudan, but also that the team may bring encouragement and support to our brothers and sisters in a country struggling to achieve peace, reconciliation, and well-being for its people.  

Pittsburgh Presbytery International Partnership Ministry Team
Journey to South Sudan Presbyterian Evangelical Church (SSPEC)
January 13 – 27, 2015
Prayer Calendar

SUNDAY
MONDAY
TUESDAY
WEDNESDAY
THURSDAY
FRIDAY
SATURDAY

Pittsburgh Team:

Dave Carver
Ruth Portnoff
Susan Rothenberg
Sharon Stewart
Ken White
Gary Willingham-
    McLain

SSPEC Leaders:

Philip Akway Obang, SSPEC General Secretary

Madut Tong Ngor, SSPEC Deputy General Secretary
13
Depart Pittsburgh for drive to Washington, DC, Overnight in Arlington, VA
14
Depart Washington DC, Fly to Dubai, UAE
15
Arrive Dubai, Continue to Juba, South Sudan
16
• Visit South Sudan Council of Churches
• Visit South Sudan president’s Religious Advisor 
• Meet with SSPEC departments
17
Meet with SSPEC pastors and elders and some local church members
18
Visit several Juba area SSPEC churches for worship and encouragement

19
Team of 6 Pittsburghers and 14 SSPEC departs for Yei – retreat at RECONCILE
20
Retreat at RECONCILE www.reconcile-int.org
Theme: “The Things that Make For Peace”
21
Continue retreat; pray for PCUSA Mission Co-workers Nancy and Shelvis Smith-Mather
22
Continue retreat;
pray for establishment of relationships between various groups

23
Return to Juba and de-brief from retreat as a Pittsburgh Team
24
• Meet with visiting PCUSA delegation • Visit the Nile River and Juba cultural sites
25
Visit several Juba area SSPEC churches for worship and encouragement
26
Team of 5 Pittsburghers departs for Dubai and then Washington, DC, Ruth Portnoff continues to Uganda for 2 weeks
27
Return to Washington, DC, Drive to Pittsburgh





Follow the trip on Pastor Dave Carver’s blog for updates: https://castyournet.wordpress.com




Sunday, January 11, 2015

Ordinary 2B Baptism of our Lord -- January 11, 2015

The Recklessness of Water


Mark 1:4-11
4John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
9In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”


It is a classic question on the ordination exams.  It is something my care team emphasized to me while I was preparing to become a minister.  One of the distinctive marks of mainline, reformed Protestants – Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians -- is that we baptize infants.  We do adult baptisms too, but mostly we baptize babies.  And the reason we do that, according to our Book of Order – is this: “The Baptism of children witnesses to the truth that God’s love claims people before they are able to respond in faith” (W-2.3008).  In other words, the gift of grace we receive in our baptism is God’s gift to us, not one we choose for ourselves.  And baptizing little bitty babies who cannot speak for themselves is an extremely persuasive and visible symbol that we believe God is in charge, not us.   Just as circumcision of infant boys was the sign and symbol of inclusion in God’s grace and covenant with Israel, so too baptism of infants is a sign of inclusion in God’s grace and covenant with the Church. 

When we were at Community Presbyterian the Sunday after Christmas, we witnessed the baptism of a baby named Mason.  Everything about the service was beautiful – right down to Mason’s white satin suit with matching bow tie and booties.  Most baptisms I’ve seen look a lot like Mason’s – cute babies who seem to cry on cue, parents looking anxiously on as they hand over their precious bundle to the minister, beaming family members sitting in the front pew.  I remember very little about the baptism of my children, but I do remember the promises we made to nurture Rachel and David’s faith and help them grow into the baptismal vows we made on their behalf. 

All of that is great.  Both of my kids were baptized decently and in order.  Baptisms are fun. Baptisms are joyful events in the life of any congregation.  But baptism today bears little if any resemblance to the scene we have just heard described in the Gospel of Mark. 

For one thing, there’s a whole lot more water involved when Jesus shows up at the Jordon River to be baptized by John.  We’re talking about a big river in the middle of nowhere.  No church sanctuary, no session meetings, no gentles sprinkles of water on the forehead.  Mark’s description of Jesus’ baptism is stark and spare.  All we’ve got is a wild flowing river and a wild-eyed John the Baptist, clothed in camel hair with bugs and honey stuck in his teeth.   There’s no well-dressed group of congregation members on the scene, or even a cadre of Pharisees as there is in Matthew’s gospel.  Instead, there’s just this teeming mass of motley people – unapproved, unexamined, uninstructed – waiting in line to be dunked under by John.  And twithout introduction or explanation, Jesus comes out of nowhere and gets in line with everyone else. 

In Mark’s gospel, this is our first glimpse of Jesus – there are no accounts of Jesus’ birth.  No angels, no annunciation, no nothing.  Nobody knows who Jesus was.  Not even John, it seems.  Jesus is just one of the folks waiting to be baptized, hanging out with all the sinners who knew, somehow, that getting down into that river with that crazy prophet, John, might just be their last, best chance to change their lives.

Jesus is dunked under by John, just like everyone else.  But after Jesus comes up out of the water, we can see this is no ordinary baptism.  Or maybe it is.  Maybe what happens next happens all the time, and we have just never noticed it before.  

Back on the first Sunday of Advent, Mark Shannon preached on Isaiah 64, which begins with: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence!”  Today’s text doesn’t tell us if anyone else sees it, but Jesus sure does – the heavens being ripped apart – not just opened as in Matthew and Luke – but TORN open, split at the seams, with the Spirit of God descending upon Jesus not like a cooing dove, but like a crazy, dive-bombing bird.  And then the thunderous voice of God:   “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

And then, not ten minutes later, his hair still wet from his baptism, that same Spirit kicks God’s beloved Son into the wilderness to battle Satan.  So much for comforting words. From the get go, being baptized seems to mean that life will take a very different course.  For 30 something years, Jesus has been a child of Joseph and Mary, a carpenter, living an ordinary life in Nazareth.  But that’s all changed now.  Jesus knows who he is and there’s no turning back. 

All of this seems to suggest that baptism was never meant to prepare us for a quiet, Christian life, but for a rather wild ride.  Perhaps, as the great writer, Annie Dillard, once suggested, in our baptism “…we should all wear crash helmets and life preservers.  Perhaps we should issue warnings with our baptismal certificates – ‘This is a passport to places you never thought you would go, to be an emissary of the living God in the desert and the wilderness, to plant seeds of hope and healing and life.’”[1]  Maybe that is reason enough to baptize babies instead of those of us with graying hair and creaking joints, who are not at all in the mood for adventure.  Or maybe it’s reason enough to rethink whether we’re doing our babies any favors by giving them that particular bath. 

Even if the mechanics of make us a little queasy, you must admit that God does some of God’s best work if not completely underwater, then in the middle of watery chaos.  We heard that in the text from Genesis read earlier.  The earth begins in chaos with dark deep swirling water, and the Spirit of God brooding and hovering over it and suddenly there is a thunderous voice saying, “Let there be light!” 

You see it again when God gets so disgusted with everything that God decides to drown the whole creation operation, but preserves life on the planet because God just can’t help being who God is – a God of mercy and love.  Even when human beings completely do not deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Later, the Israelites stand at the edge of a swirling Red Sea, scared to death that they will either be destroyed by Pharaoh’s army or drowned in the water.  And we hear it again, God’s voice telling Moses to lift up his rod and lead the people through the parting of the waters. 

Such watery terror seems far removed from our cautious sprinkling of water on a baby’s forehead, or even full immersion in a sanitized swimming pool.  But people who have had their homes flooded by a creek rising in a heart beat, or farmers who have seen their crops dry up and blow away from lack of rain, or sailors who have been caught in a raging storm--  all of them know that water is a powerful thing.  It is life and it is death.  

So we baptize our children and we baptize adults, but somewhere along the line we’ve lost the power of our own baptism.  Perhaps we need to consider the recklessness of that baptismal scene in Mark.  Perhaps we need to reclaim our baptism and let it remind us of who we are, to whom we belong, and the power that resides in us.

I read an article this week in which the writer said it’s far too easy to join a church these days.  He said, in fact, that it’s harder to get a Costco membership than it is to become a baptized Christian.  He said he wished that baptism was understood to be a much bigger deal.  He wondered what would happen if the only way to join a church was by skydiving?  He writes:  “What are the reality of sin and redemption and the dangerous thrill of falling and the great vista of salvation and the recognition that our lives are not really in our own hands, if they aren’t like skydiving? Imagine what it would mean to go through that experience, with its terrors and its rushes and its ultimate relief – and then show up at church on Sunday to be greeted by a room full of people who had been through all of that too?”[2]

Skydiving does seem to have much more in common to what Jesus experiences on the Jordon than we experience in our baptisms in the modern church.  I’m not suggesting we all take up skydiving.  What I’m suggesting is that we see our baptisms as a radical act of radical faith in a God who has radically broken into the world.  I am suggesting we see our baptisms not as the day when we settled into a settled life of faith, but as a moment when we took a leap into thin air and into the hands of God.  I am suggesting we live as though believe the promise that we are still being held.

And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

The tears in heaven are reflected by the tears in the lives of God’s beloved children.  Not just little tears, but big giant gaping holes with ragged edges.  All over the world.  Once scarcely knows where to begin or how to respond to the Spirit’s urgent nudging into the wilderness.  But respond we must.  Somehow.  But it’s hard.  Hard in South Sudan.  Hard in Paris.  Hard in Ferguson and New York.  Hard in Emsworth.

But this is the life we were promised when water was poured recklessly over our heads when we were babies, or even more recently.  What were our parents thinking?  What were we thinking?  This is the life we get for being grafted into the body of Christ.  This is what we get for becoming a member of the family of God.  This is what we get for being sealed by the Holy Spirit.  This is what we get for receiving the gift of sheer grace that we never asked for, but was given to us anyway and now we’ve got to spend our lives responding to God’s grace. 

Lots of people doubt that the Western church has it in us anymore to reflect the reckless spirit of John and Jesus and that crowd of sinners at the River Jordon.  I’m not sure we have the energy to be skydivers for Jesus.  And I think if you pushed most ministers, they would admit it, too.  They are tired.  Their congregations are tired.  It’s as if we’re pushing a very big boulder up a very big hill, and we’re all getting older, and there aren’t as many of us as there used to be and, gee – is it my imagination, or is that boulder getting bigger?

One of my favorite writers, Frederick Buechner, writes:  “Maybe the best thing that could happen to the church would be some great tidal wave of history to wash it all away – the church buildings tumbling, the church money all lost, the church bulletins blowing through the wind like dead leaves, the differences between preachers and congregations all lost too.  Then all we would have left would be each other and Christ, which was all there was in the first place.”[3]

The other night, I was sitting with the folks with whom I will be journeying to South Sudan.  And one of them, a young woman I do not know well, asked, “Will each one of you tell me why you’re going on this trip?”

Two months ago, I would answered her question this way – I’m going for my congregation. Perhaps my journey to Africa will kick start a new commitment to engage directly in the mission partnership between the presbytery and the Malawi/South Sudan churches.  And, frankly, it seems like a once in a lifetime opportunity to go to a part of Africa hardly anyone goes to. 

But in the last two months, I have realized that I am being called to this trip so I can learn something I need to learn and something Christians in developing countries seem to know that we in the established, mainline church have forgotten.  I need to learn again to love Jesus like my life depends upon it.  Because right now, my life depends on many other things that, as far as I can tell, have pretty much nothing to do with Jesus.  Right now this congregation depends upon many, many things that, as far as I can tell, have nothing to do with Jesus.  I don’t have a thing to offer our brothers and sisters in South Sudan.  Not one useful skill.  I’m not a doctor or a nurse.  I don’t know how to dig a well.  All I have are ears to listen, a heart to pray, and a voice to encourage.  That’s it.  Pretty small potatoes.

A friend of mine who actually is a doctor just returned from another part of East Africa a few months ago.  When I asked him what he learned there, he said he came back less fearful and more loving.  And that seems to me to be what we in the church need more than anything.  More love.  Less fear.  And, I might add, we need to depend upon the reckless water of our baptism that still clings to us as we venture out to places we are afraid to go and people we are hesitant to love – even if that place is not 7,000 miles away like Africa,  but even 7 miles away.  Or seven blocks.

I have performed two baptisms.  Just two. Both in hospitals.  Both with dying babies.  The first time was when I was a student chaplain at Children’s Hospital.  My supervisor and I were with a family who’s new born baby was in crisis in the NICU, when we received a page about another family whose baby was about to be taken off life support and the parents decided they wanted to have their child baptized right now.  My supervisor took me out into the hallway and said, “Susan, go up and baptize that baby.” 

My mind was spinning.  I wasn’t ordained yet.  I didn’t know the baptismal liturgy.  I didn’t know if I had to use a special holy water or if tap water would do.  What would the presbytery say if I baptized someone without a license?  Why couldn’t my supervisor do the baptism?  It all seemed very reckless to me. 

I must have been babbling badly because supervisor held my face in her hands, stared deeply into my eyes and said, “Susan, I want you to go up there and I want you to baptize that baby and I want you to do it in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Now GO!!”

I went.  I went up and prayed over the sick baby, baptized her in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Reckless.  Reckless. Reckless.  The heavens were torn open and I could hear a voice saying, “You are my beloved child.  With you I am well pleased.”

Although I am as frightened as anyone to dive into that crazy river, I know that it is where God leads you and me and all of us.  Because we bear God’s name.  You are God’s son.  You are God’s daughter.  With you God is well pleased. 

Now, let’s dry off and get to work.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.










[1] Diane Roth, “Living By The Word.” Christian Century, January 7, 2015.
[2] Maxwell Grant, “Torn Open By God.” http://day1.org/6319-torn_open_by_god Downloaded on 1/8/15.
[3] Frederick Buechner, “The Church” in Secrets in the Dark, 169.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Christmas 1B -- December 28, 2014

The Real Wise Guys



Luke 2:22-40


When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23(as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), 24and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”

25Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. 26It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. 27Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, 28Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, 29“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; 30for my eyes have seen your salvation, 31which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 32a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” 33And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. 34Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed 35so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” 36There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, 37then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. 38At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. 39When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. 40The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.


Many thanks to Pastor Donna and all of you terrific Community Church folks for allowing Emsworth U.P. Church to crash your after-Christmas gathering this morning.  I know that Pastor Donna appreciates the day off just as much as I will appreciate the day off next Sunday when our congregations join again to mark the celebration of Epiphany.  Christmas is not officially over until then, so I am not too late to wish you a very Merry Christmas.  Santa has come and gone, but Jesus’ birthday celebration continues for another week.  Thanks be to God!

And what a great day to be together, most particularly to witness the Sacrament of Holy Baptism with Mason and his family.  Thank you for the privilege of being here to celebrate the newest member of God’s family here at Community Church.

I do have to ask, however…did anyone notice if Mason's parents brought in a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons – maybe the cages are somewhere in the back.  Jean, are the birds hiding around here somewhere?

Well, whether or not they brought in a sacrificial gift, Mason’s parents have walked a well-worn path this morning.  The path of faithful parents carrying the treasure of their hearts into a holy space and dedicating a treasured son or daughter to God.  Just like Mary and Joseph in our reading this morning.  I didn’t know there would be a baptism this when I picked this text.  But it is a fitting one, don’t you think?

After he is born on Christmas, we do not hear much about Jesus’ childhood in Scripture, unfortunately.  We receive just three tiny glimpses in the Gospel of Luke.  First, Jesus’ circumcision is briefly mentioned in the two verses before the ones we just read.  Then, in this passage, his parents travel with him to Jerusalem for the purification rites and presentation of the child in the temple 40 days later.   After today’s text, we don’t see Jesus again in Luke until more than a decade later when he stays behind in the temple, scaring his mother half to death.

But this text today is a curious thing, isn’t it?  After all the hoopla of Christmas, with angels and annunciations and all manner of holy visitors proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God, Mary and Joseph still make the journey to fulfill all the religious requirements for a firstborn male.  You would think the Son of God and his family might be exempt, right?  You would think that Jesus would be holy enough all on his own to not need the affirmation of the temple.  A lot of people have wondered the same thing about Jesus’ baptism, too.  Why would someone like Jesus, who was born without sin, have to be dedicated or baptized at all?

Perhaps this detail from Luke is here to remind us that this fully divine Jesus was also born fully human, into a particular time and place, and into a particular community of faith represented by the temple.  Perhaps we need to remember that Jesus was not born unto himself, to be God all by himself, but into a family to be raised by particular parents surrounded by other people, friends and relatives.  Perhaps, despite the scant scriptural detail, we need to remember that like every human baby before or since, the fully human Jesus could not raise himself.  Luke reminds us that it will take a village of faith to raise God’s son.  It takes a community to remind us who we are, and to whom we belong.

And the first people of the village to recognize Jesus are Simeon and Anna.  And unlike all the people we heard about on Christmas Eve, Simeon and Anna recognize who Jesus is without any of the heavenly host helping them out.  There are no angels in this story.   Only the two stalwarts of the temple, both of them getting way up there in years, but both of them blessed with the eyes of the prophets.  Simeon and Anna are often left out of our Christmas story, and they do not show up in our manger scenes, but if you ask me…Simeon and Anna are the real wise guys in this season.

Simeon is a paragon of the community’s hope.  For years Simeon had been waiting and hoping for the consolation of Israel, for the assurance that God had not forgotten the people waiting in darkness to see a great light.  Simeon is all about the hope that doesn’t dim with age or experience, but seems to grow stronger and stronger with each passing year.

Anna is the paragon of the community’s faithfulness.  Despite widowhood and the struggles that most certainly entailed, Anna fasts and prays day and night, staying deeply in relationship with God.  Anna is all about faithfulness that digs in its heels and hangs on through every storm, no matter what.

Both of these characters are not only wise, but also true pivot points in the story of Jesus.  Simeon and Anna take us out of the anticipation of Advent, the giddiness of Christmas, and into the hard work of Epiphany.  The hard work in which we try to keep our eyes open for the Christ that is here, dwelling among us, full of grace and truth, even when the Christmas star has dimmed and moved on.

And as we leave Christmas Day, the first thing we see in Luke is this poignant encounter. -- two exhausted young parents, in over their head, and two elderly people who have been waiting forever for this day.  In this moment, we see the family and the elders exchange gifts in honor of the baby in Mary’s arms.  Mary and Joseph receive the gift of knowing that despite the struggle of the last 40 days, they are not alone in facing the task before them.  They are surrounded by a community of faith who will help their child grow and become strong and be filled with wisdom.

And Simeon and Anna receive a glimpse of heaven.  Simeon and Anna see that God has kept God’s promise.  They have the wisdom to see both the glory of this miraculous birth and the challenges ahead for this very human family.  The elders understand the risks of God’s Incarnation, and the price that Mary will pay when her child of light is opposed by the darkness of the world. 

Both Simeon and Anna are old enough to know better, but they cannot help but rejoice in the redemption of the world represented by this family standing in the temple.  This family. Mary and Joseph. So ordinary.  So tired from the journey.  So poor.  So young.  So blown away by these elderly strangers blessing their struggling family. Yet Simeon and Anna see promise, even knowing that, like most things in life, no great joy comes without a cost. 

This is a moment that belongs on our Christmas cards.  Because, beloved community, Simeon and Anna’s job is also our job after the carols fade and the Christmas tree comes down, and the manger is tucked away in the storage room for another year.  This is why we were born. This is why our communities of faith exist.  This is why Emsworth U.P. Church and Community Presbyterian Church are called into being by God.  To lift up the poor and struggling, and help them to believe that they too are children or God.  Or even believe on their behalf when they cannot believe themselves that God’s promise is for them too. 

This is our task after the gifts have been returned and the last cookies have been eaten.  To share with one other where we see Jesus in our midst, even in astonishing places.  To honor those most vulnerable who still have something to teach us.  To be the safe place for the ones in whom God finds favor, despite all appearances to the contrary.  We are called to bless and be a blessing.  That’s our job.  That’s our job in Epiphany and moving into the new year.

As I thought about Mason’s baptism, I remembered that my oldest daughter, Rachel, was also baptized on the Sunday after Christmas in my home church in Uniontown, Pa.  It was the only Sunday that my family could all be gathered conveniently, and I remember it being a very hectic day, with a cranky baby, tired parents and scores of relatives trying to celebrate – something.  I’m not sure any of us at that moment knew exactly what we were doing.  We just knew it had to be done.

But I do remember some months later, stepping back into church life after a season away.  I knew, somewhere in my wandering heart, that our young family needed to connect to something larger than ourselves.   Not just to Jesus, but to a community of faith that demonstrated and taught and lived out the love of Jesus – the sort of community that had meant so much to me when I was growing up. 

All of us here have had the great joy of knowing many Simeons and Annas in our lives – people who have loved us and encouraged us and reminded us of who we are and to whom we belong. 

But as I look at this portrait of the infant Jesus and the elderly Simeon and Anna, I wonder also if we might see one more thing.  As I’ve read this text, I’ve been reminded that the late Vice President’s Hubert Humphrey once said, “…the moral test of government is how that government treats those who are in the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the elderly; and those who are in the shadows of life, the sick, the needy and the handicapped.”  

Not to usurp the words of a man I admire greatly, but I wonder if we might also think of how we as Christians think about children in our communities and around the world.  How do we value children beyond our own?  Can we see each child as Simeon and Anna saw the Christ child?  A child of God?  A child of promise? Can we see each child born as gift?

I was reading an article last week that quoted a UNICEF report which said that as many 15 million young people are trapped in conflicts in the Central African Republic, Iraq, South Sudan, the Palestinian territories, Syria and Ukraine.  Throughout the world, 230 million children are living in regions destabilized by armed conflicts.  UNICEF executive director Anthony Lake said, “Children has been killed while studying in the classroom and while sleeping in their beds.  They have been orphaned, kidnapped, tortured, recruited, raped and even sold as slaves…never in recent memory have so many children been subjected to such unspeakable brutality.”  In South Sudan, where I will be traveling in 2 weeks, 750,000 children have been displaced, and 320,000 are living as refugees.  UNICEF says that in South Sudan, more than 600 children have been killed, while 12,000 have been recruited or captured by armed groups.[1]

A physician in Boston who grew up in Pakistan, writing after the massacre of the Pakistani school children 2 weeks ago, said, “I was sitting in our Cardiac-Medical conference this morning, discussing cases of complex heart disease and contemplating the fact that we devote prodigious human and financial resources to saving the life of one child while others somehow see fit to kill children at random…The smallest coffins are the heaviest.”[2]

2014 was a terrible year for children.  Even close to home, in our own country.  Gun violence.  Exploitation.  Rape.  Abuse. 

Yet, maybe, even in the midst of the evil we cannot escape no matter how much we try, the only thing we have on this day is praise. Praise of our God whose power is known and experienced in the vulnerability of humanity. Whose love is felt in pain and loss. Whose hope knows no limits.

We desperately need Anna and Simeon this week. We need them to help us utter the praise of God that simultaneously responds to God’s presence and resists the presence of evil. We need them to model the reaction to the convergence of waiting that seems to never end and fulfillment beyond our wildest dreams.  We need them to give us the courage to trust in our God who is indeed present and powerful when the world in which we live suggests otherwise.

The late Presbyterian pastor and poet David Steele wrote about Simeon.  In it, he imagines Simeon going back and forth to the Temple every day in his final years, pronouncing that very same blessing over all the babies presented to him.  It's meant to be funny, this image of Simeon, but then, suddenly, Steele turns and says this:

When I read the blessing
And thought about it,
I began to wish he was right,
About Simeon--and those babies.
And I began thinking about our babies.

And I wished someone,
Some Simeon,
Might hold my grandbabies high--
And yours--
The born ones and the not yet
Proclaiming to them
With great conviction,
"You are the saviors of the World!"
Meaning it so absolutely
Those young 'uns would live it,
And love it,
And make it happen![3]

Thanks be to God.  Amen.











[1] http://registerguard.com/rg/opinion/32535402-75/2014-a-bad-year-for-kids.html.csp
[2] http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/12/pakistans-blackest-day-school-attack-taliban/383823/
[3] Presbyterian Outlook, April 17th, 2000, 12.