January 4--Waiting for the Light

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” –John 1:5

Sunday was amazing.

Seventy two degrees, a soft wind, and absolutely nothing to do. The perfect ‘winter’ day for short-sleeve -clad torsos to soak in the sunshine . . . for cousins to fly kites at the park down the street . . . for grandmother to join granddaughter in casual conversation about the precious gift of life and the peaceful joy of returning to our master in death.

So much light and love . . . so much warmth and comfort . . . it is hard to believe the shortest day of the New England winter was only a week ago. That ice storms and piles of snow and frigid temperatures defined my life until the morning of Christmas Eve. All that is far away as I linger in bare feet and turn on the ceiling fan for a bit of cool air and prepare for the year to turn in this very different part of the country where I have celebrated Christmas with family.

But I have not forgotten the darkness.

Darkness has defined so much of our lives for so many months that it has seeped into our very bones, especially if we live in New England. Those of us who are not native to this part of the country may resist it at first. (I still remember the shock of that first year of steady but stark decline in daylight hours from late fall to Christmas week.) Eventually, though, it becomes part of the rhythm of our lives year after year . . . something we may even embrace as a comfort at times . . . the deep call of nature to a season of restful hibernation in the midst of the frenetic pace of a culture that never sleeps.

Darkness may actually be a welcome friend for those of us who are sensitive to light, who burn easily, who find too much sunshine and hot weather to be even more stressful than cold, snowy winters.

“All things came into being through the Word, and without the Word not one thing came into being,” John’s gospel tells us in the lectionary text for today. “What has come into being in the Word was life, and the life was the light of all people” (John 1:3-4).

It blows my mind to imagine a God who created all these things that have come into being . . . the darkness, the light, the different kinds of people and animals and plants who need different kinds of climates in order to thrive. It blows my mind to remember the darkness and cold of New England as I rest in the radiant sunshine of the American South. It blows my mind to pray to a good and generous God who created all of it, who loves all of it, who redeems all of it, who knows that we need light in the midst of too much darkness, that we need darkness in the midst of too much light.

I am grateful for the light of this fleeting alternate reality, the warmth of this southern weather, the wisdom of this moment with Grandma, the faithful reminder that these things exist, even as I prepare to return to Boston. The memory of lightness will sustain me through the long, cold winter yet to come.

Which is the mystery of faith.

God has come into our world in just this way this Christmas season . . . an alternate reality, a constant comfort, a wisdom of age mixed with youth . . . one brief moment of spiritual ecstasy before returning to our normal lives. The darkness is still with us; it will not ever go away completely, nor should it. But the memory of this light sustains us through everything that will come in the months and years and lifetimes ahead.

“The Word became flesh and lived among us . . . full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). May this truth be a comfort to us in this season of darkness and light, giving us hope, and filling us with joy, reminding us of the Creator even as it speaks of the Redeemer. God is with us, in all the seasons of our lives. Amen.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: Jeremiah 31:7-14; Psalm 147:12-20; Ephesians 1:3-14)

December 28--What it Means to Be Free

"But when the right time came, God sent his Son who was born of a woman and lived under the law. God did this so he could buy freedom for those who were under the law and so we could become his children. Since you are God's children, God sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, and the Spirit cries out, "Abba, Father." So now you are not a slave, you are God's child, and God will give you the blessing he promised, because you are his child" (Galatians 4:4-7).



What do you think of when you think of freedom? No fences? Hippies marching with signs? Martin Luther King Jr.’s "Let freedom ring"? Freedom from exams? Freedom from illness? Freedom from war?

A spiritual mentor of mine once told me, “I became free when I said, ‘Lord, I will do what you want me to do.’”


It is an odd thing to think about spiritual freedom in a country that defines itself so fundamentally by that word. It is difficult to translate the freedom of which the Apostle Paul speaks into our current cultural climate. It is difficult to imagine the kind of freedom Paul longed for and experienced as he preached the gospel in the midst of persecution, in the midst of imprisonment, in the midst of the very real practice of slavery throughout the Roman empire.


What does it mean to be free? What does it really mean to be "free"?


When Paul was writing this letter to the Galatians, he obviously was not thinking about American freedom--or American slavery--at all. He was, instead, thinking about first century Gentiles: non-Jews living in the northern part of the Roman province of Galatia, an area of the world we know today as the nation of Turkey. He was thinking about the God he worshiped as a Law-abiding Jew and how that God had extended grace to these Gentiles and all others through the faithfulness of Christ.

Unlike competing evangelists who were teaching the Galatians in his absence, Paul believed that only Jews should observe Mosaic Law; for the Gentiles of his ministry, Paul saw the Law as a stumbling block. The gospel message Paul preached to the Gentiles was about spiritual freedom in Christ. Paul believed the message preached by his opponents would lead to spiritual slavery, rather than freedom.

But those who opposed Paul’s gospel message of spiritual freedom warned that his emphasis on God’s grace did not provide sufficient instruction for daily living. They thought Paul’s emphasis on grace left too much room for doubt about whether or not a Gentile had sufficiently converted to Christ. So Paul responded with a letter full of pastoral advice for those who would live in Christ’s realm of freedom. “For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters,” he writes. “Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.” Be led by the Spirit in order to inherit the kingdom of God, he says. “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Gal 5:13).

Be slaves to one another? This is the way to be free?! Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?

But we've heard this language before in the gospels from the mouth of Jesus. It’s the Great commandment, and the second which is like it. Living in Christ’s freedom means loving God, loving neighbor, loving self. On this commandment hangs all the Law and the Prophets. It is, in fact, THE law for the Galatians and for us. And it is what it means to be free, for the Galatians and for us. The only way we can be free is to devote ourselves entirely to this law. It is the spiritual paradox of divine freedom.

So how do the Galatians know when they are living according to this law, when they are living according to this freedom? When they live by the fruits of the spirit, Paul says. How do they know when they are living by the fruits of the spirit? When they relate to one another with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law. With such things we live into the very kingdom of God.

What do you think of when you think of freedom? In twenty-first century America it is too easy to forget we are at war and it is too easy to give in to a materialistic mentality and it is too easy to bite and devour and destroy one another, all in the name of freedom. We do well to listen with fresh ears to God’s Word to us through these words to the Galatians.

We who follow Christ have a responsibility that comes with our political and spiritual independence. “Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence,” God says to us through the words of the apostle Paul, “but through love become slaves to one another.” Love your neighbor as yourself. Live by the Spirit and be guided by the Spirit.

And as we continue to pray for the world’s freedom from sin and suffering and despair, when too many people still live in political and personal bondage, we do well to repeat what seems on the surface like a contradictory word to “Stand firm . . . and not submit again to a yoke of slavery. For Christ has, indeed, set us free in order to live in freedom.” Slavery in love to one another. Freedom for those who live in bondage.

May we sing it with voices that will never be shaken. May we live it with a conviction that will never be challenged. May we proclaim it with a hope that will never be forsaken. May we pass it on from generation to generation until that final day of freedom when suffering and evil and pain will be no more. We pray it in Jesus’ name. Amen

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: Isaiah 61:10-62:3, Psalm 148; Luke 2:22-40)

December 21--The God Who Strengthens Us

"Now to God who is able to strengthen you according to my gospel and the proclamation of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed, and through the prophetic writings is made known to all the Gentiles, according to the command of the eternal God, to bring about the obedience of faith -- to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever! Amen" (Romans 16:25-27).

I have often found it odd that Christianity is a religion of such great weakness. We have a crucified God in Holy Week, we have an infant God at Christmas, we have dim-witted disciples of both first-century and twenty-first century inadequacy. If we were to gather together the most brilliant minds in the history of the world to create the most appealing religion we might market to the masses, I have serious doubts that most of what Christians believe to be "true" would make the list.

Most of us, if we are honest, want a religion of strength, not weakness. Most of us want assurance that if we just do the right things and live the right way that God will reward us. And not just spiritually. We want to believe that God will reward us with material blessings, with physical prowess, with a good job, with a beautiful spouse. We want to believe that God has the power to keep us from losing our jobs or our loved ones or even our own lives. We want to believe that God will make everything all right . . . that God will make us all right.

But God comes to us as a baby at Christmastime. Vulnerable and weak. Demanding our strength, demanding our attention, demanding our sleepless nights of feedings and diaper-changings and tending to sickness and praying for the strength to be a "good enough" parent when it feels like we can't go on another minute. If God is a baby, that means we are the strong ones. God is dependent on us, not the other way around.

I find that pretty intimidating!

But I also find it encouraging . . .

I can think of numerous times in my life when I was able to cultivate a strength I never knew existed within me only because someone else was completely dependent on me . . . because someone else had become as vulnerable as a baby. And I can think of a few more recent times in my life when I had been the one "born again," in desperate need, depending on the strength of another.

And in those moments, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, I felt God's presence more fully than at any other time. "I feel God in my skin," I remember saying this summer when I was so sick that I couldn't even feed myself. But now that I'm better, oddly enough, God seems quite a bit farther away. I have to work at prayer. I have to work at discernment. I have to work at worship.

It is a strange and miraculous thing, this religion of ours that celebrates the weakness and vulnerability of God . . . the weakness and vulnerability of humanity. It is, in fact, the desire and vulnerability of God that is God's strength, we proclaim. And it is our desire and vulnerability as human beings that is our strength.

No wonder this divine wisdom is folly to the world!

Christmas is just around the corner, the baby is born again among us. God is born again among us. And we are born again in God. What kind of tenderness can we offer? What kind of sustenance will we seek? What kind of family will we gather together to support and encourage the new life in our midst?

It is our chance to try again. It is our chance to get it right this time. It is our chance to admit how very much we need one another . . . how very much we need God . . . and how very much God needs us.

Merry Christmas everyone. I wish you all the best in this season of Joy.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16; Luke 1:47-55 or Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26; Luke 1:26-38)

December 14--Trusting the One Who Calls

"Rejoice always, pray constantly, and give thanks for everything--for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. Don't stifle the Spirit; don't despise the prophetic gift. But test everything and accept only what is good. Avoid any semblance of evil.

"May the God of peace make you perfect in holiness. May you be preserved whole and complete--spirit, soul, and body--irreproachable at the coming of our Savior Jesus Christ. The One who calls us is trustworthy: God will make sure it comes to pass" (1 Thessalonians 5:16-24).


Now that I use a cell phone with caller ID, I screen my calls ruthlessly. An unknown caller will go directly to voice mail. A known caller? Well . . . depends on my mood. You just never know what you'll hear on the other end of the line . . . or if you'll be ready to hear it.

Take today, for example. Three phone calls came in. The first one from my boss. Check. I answered that one right away! The second one from a tutoring client. Could be good news or bad. I answer. Good news! An 'A' on her research paper! Definitely worth picking up.

The third one? Unexpected. We had parted ways angrily over two months ago. I figured I'd never hear from him again. But there it was, his name on the screen. Do I pick up? Yes. And the path to an honest reconciliation begins. Worth it? I think so. We'll see in the weeks and months ahead.


Three different calls. Three different reactions. Three different opportunities to work and celebrate and heal old wounds. Three different opportunities to trust the connection with the person on the other end of the line. Three different opportunities to trust the divine connection linking each one of us to the other.


But it is not always easy to trust the one who calls. The co-worker, the student, the alienated friend . . . the holy mystery we call God. We do not know--we cannot know--the true intentions of the caller. We do not know--and cannot know--exactly how we will respond . . . especially if the call requires us to change our lives, to heal our wounds, to heal the wounds we have caused others.


God's call is dramatic for some of us, like that of the Apostle Paul blinded on the road to Damascus. His call led to a passionate missionary zeal among the community of Christ in first century Thessalonica and other communities all across the Mediterranean. It was not an easy call for Paul, to be sure. He faced torture and imprisonment and a lifestyle resembling the most dysfunctional traveling workaholic. Certainly not the idyllic spiritual sanctuary we aspire to in our own Christian walk!

But God's call is ordinary for most of us, like that of the Thessalonians urged to live holy lives and to love one another. Just when we think we've accomplished that goal, God shows up through an apostle or a prophet to "exhort [us] to even greater progress" (1 Thess 4:9). It is a lifelong journey of seeking--and doing--God's will.


In Advent we hear the call once more, preparing ourselves to respond "in perfect holiness." The One who calls us is trustworthy; the One born among us is faithful; the One dwelling within us is preserving us--in spirit, soul, and body--so that we may participate in the glorious reign of God.

May it be so among us and within us as we look forward to Christmas.

Amen.


Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; Psalm 126 or Luke 1:47-55; John 1:6-8, 19-28)