“Is anything impossible with God?”

This is the sermon manuscript from the fourth week of Advent, December 17^th/18^th. The Gospel text is Luke 1:26-38.

Are you familiar with the song, “Father Abraham?” It’s a song that I was taught in Sunday school when I was a kid. It’s a song we sang at the camp where I spent my summers. I am not quite sure where it came from originally. That’s the funny thing about children’s songs; you never know where they came from or who’s heard them.

And even though it is a children’s song, it won’t hurt any of us to be reminded of it this morning. “Father Abraham” goes like this… “Father Abraham had many sons, and many sons had father Abraham, I am one of them, and so are you, so let’s all praise the LORD…” This is the main chorus of the song and in between each time you sing it, you add movement. We would start off with our right arm and slowly work our way around our various limbs until we’re all doing a rather silly dance. It’s kind of a silly song on the surface, but it serves as a reminder of where we have come from and of God’s promise to make Abraham a great nation, a blessing to the whole world. Father Abraham did indeed have many sons and daughters, but it wasn’t always that way.

Our story begins with Abraham in the desert, sitting in the entrance to his tent, finding shelter from the heat of the day. Three strangers approach out of the desert and Abraham is immediately on his feet making ready for their arrival. He doesn’t know them, but he is extending a hand of hospitality, some water and a bite to eat in the harsh arms of the desert. One of the strangers tells Abraham that he will return in due season because Abraham’s wife Sarah will bear a son.

Now this is all well and good until we remember that Abraham and Sarah are old. And not just old; they are old as dirt. Genesis 17 tell us that Abraham is 99 years old when God reminds him of the covenant that God has made with him, where God promises Abraham that his ancestors will be exceedingly numerous. Like the stars in the sky or the grains of sand on the beach. That the world will be blessed through Abraham. By now Sarah is far beyond the years of child bearing. They have no kids of their own and their hope of kids has passed away. Sarah actually laughs when she hears the words of the stranger, who is actually God in disguise. The thought of her having kids at her age is indeed laughable, impossible by our standards. The stranger, who is God, turns to Abraham and says, “Why did she laugh; Is anything impossible with God?”

Sarah did indeed have a son and she named him Isaac, which means laughter in Hebrew, and the whole story of the Old Testament unfolds from that moment. God’s promise to Abraham was fulfilled. Abraham was made into a great nation. The world was indeed blessed through Abraham even after he was old as dirt and had long lost the dream of having a son. The world was changed because of God’s promise. Is anything impossible with God?

We hear those words again this morning; Is anything impossible with God? The words are almost the same, and yet different. Luke tells us that an angel comes to Mary in Nazareth and tells her that she has found favor with God. That she will bear a son and name him Jesus. That this son named Jesus will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, that the Lord God will give him the throne of David. That the kingdom of Jesus will never end. That the world will change because of Jesus.

But Mary is only a young woman, perhaps even a teenager, who has been promised in marriage to a carpenter named Joseph. Mary is no one special by any means. Mary is a no body by the world’s standards. Mary is supposed to have an ordinary marriage and live an ordinary life as a Jew under the harsh rule of Rome. But now she is in a pickle. She is at this point unmarried and to be pregnant while unmarried would be quite the dilemma indeed. The only words she can find in response to the angel are, “How can this be?” The angel looks down on her and says, “Nothing will be impossible with God.”

Mary did indeed have a son and she named him Jesus and the whole story of our lives unfolds from that moment. For Jesus is the Son of God and his kingdom will have no end. The world is changed because of Jesus; our lives are changed because of Jesus. In these words we have God’s promise that our lives will be different with Jesus, a promise that is fulfilled with the empty tomb on Easter morning. Because if God can roll away the stone, if the resurrected Jesus can bring a word of peace to weary disciples, then indeed nothing is impossible for our God.

I believe these are the truest words we hear in Advent, our season of hope; For nothing is impossible with God. They are words of hope for the world to hear. These words are a promise from God and they come to us in Advent because they point to the hope we have in Jesus Christ. These words have a purpose in our lives. They can bring us from the edge of doubt, to the hope that God is at work in our world. For nothing is impossible with God.

I heard these words one time when I was on the phone with my grandmother who is home in Texas. A drought has crippled most of the state, most of the southwest of the country really, and times are getting hard. Families who have spent generations raising and selling cattle have sold out of the business. Lakes that have held water for years are now empty. Wells that reach to the heart of the earth have gone dry. The weather folk say that it’s going to get worse before it gets better. My grandmother, we call her Nana, who is in her eighties, tells me of the droughts that she has lived through, the times when the rain wouldn’t fall, the times when the world seemed to turning against them. But the last word of the story is always, “The rain always came eventually, God always sent the rain in due time.” For nothing is impossible with God.

I heard these words in the halls of the hospital this week. A woman who recently had knee surgery is starting her rehab and is going through all of the pain that comes from knee surgery and rehab. The pain starts in the morning and only goes away with a bit of medicine from the nurse. The pain comes back in the afternoon after the work of rehab is done. Perhaps it even comes back before rehab is over, causing one to think why they even had the surgery in the first place. While she was waiting for her rehab to start one morning she bumped into another woman who had knee surgery in November, who told her that the pain would get easier to manage. This woman told her not to give up, that the rehab gets better, that the pain does indeed go away, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. For nothing is impossible with God.

But sometimes these words are hard to hear. Sometimes they don’t seem to get through the stack of bills on the table, the news from the doctor at the hospital bedside, the emptiness we feel at the grave. But even in the darkest moments of life they are there, waiting to breathe hope back into life. For nothing is impossible with God. That’s the promise of God that we hear today. These words speak of the truth that we are never alone, that God is always with us no matter the distance we may feel from God. For nothing is impossible with God.

We get to hear these words of hope in Advent because they lay the foundation for what Christmas means in our lives. If God can give a son to a couple who is old as dirt and change the course of history, if God can give a baby to a young girl who is a nobody in society and change the world, then God can come into our lives and give us hope for a new tomorrow. For nothing is impossible with God. This is the promise that brings us to the manger on Christmas Eve. This is the promise that brings us to the empty tomb on Easter, to witness the new life we have in Jesus Christ. This is the promise we have from God. Write these words in your Christmas cards; share them with all that you meet. These are the words that have the power to change the world. For nothing is impossible with God.

“Whose Shoes Do You Want To Walk In?”

This is the manuscript from the sermon preached on December 3^rd/4^th, the second Sunday of Advent. The Gospel text is Mark 1:1-8.

During college I worked four summers at a Lutheran camp in Kerrville, in the hill country of Texas. Camp Chrysalis will always be very near and dear to my heart. Working at camp helped to shape who I am as a person and helped me to discern some of the gifts that I have for ministry. I was a cabin leader for two summers and I worked as the assistant program direction for two summers. I have countless memories from camp that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

One memory that sticks out in my mind on this second Sunday of Advent is from the summer of 2007. Our theme that summer was “Saint’s and Super Heroes,” and we spent all summer talking about the truth that we are all saints and super heroes as we walk through this world. We have all been set free through our baptism into Jesus Christ to spread the good news of Jesus Christ and to prepare the way of Jesus in our world; that’s what makes us saints and superheroes. We had talked about saints and super heroes all summer with the kids who came to camp for a week and then went back home with the call to be a saint and superhero in with their lives. The theme really hit home for me on the night of the summer staff’s closing worship. The staff was about to part ways, most of us back home before returning to college for the fall. As the real world loomed on the horizon, the call to be a saint and superhero became very real.

The message that night was delivered by a good friend of mine who was a long time staff person at camp. Just as he had done at the opening worship of staff training, he had all of us staff members take off our shoes and make a giant cross in the middle of the circle. He talked about having heroes as a kid, persons that he looked up to and wanted to be like when he grew up, people whose shoes he wanted to fill. He asked us to think about our own heroes, people we wanted to be like; persons whose shoes we wished we could walk in. Then he turned the question around. He told us, “You never know for whom you might be a superhero.” Or to put in another way, “You never know who will want to walk in your shoes.”

It’s true. We may never know for whom we may be a hero. His message that night made me think of my camp counselor from confirmation camp when I was in the 8^th grade. Even after all these years I can still picture Marcus’ big smile and gentle nature. He was from Atlanta and had somehow found himself in Texas working at a Lutheran camp. He was the man who first got me interested in becoming a camp counselor. He was one of the persons who first asked me if I wanted to be a pastor. Marcus will never know that he is a hero of mine. He will never know that I wanted to walk in his shoes. Marcus is a saint and a superhero to me.

This morning we celebrate the second Sunday of Advent and it’s the tenor tones of John the baptizer that ring out from the good news. John is a pillar of the church, a saint and a super hero of the highest degree. John has big shoes, or should I say big sandals, to fill.

John comes to us this morning rather abruptly. He just appears in the desert. Mark’s Gospel does not begin with the story of the birth of Jesus; there is no outline of his childhood or recent years. The beginning of the good news about Jesus Christ, the Son of God according to Mark begins in the desert with John. And John the baptizer is a strange fellow indeed. He wears camel’s hair with a belt of leather around his waist. He eats grasshoppers and wild honey. He is an epic figure of legend, an image of Elijah in the minds of the Jews who come to hear him preach. John the baptizer is cut from the cloth of the Old Testament, a sign that ancient promises are going to be fulfilled. A sign that God is at work in the world.

And John has the whole countryside and the entire city of Jerusalem abuzz with his preaching. He actually has people continually coming to him according to Mark; the Greek word we translate as “they were going out to him” actually means something to the effect of, “they were continually going out to him.” John’s appeal is not a one-time thing. John is the type that when you see him, you remember him, you go home and tell your friends about him and then you load your friends in the minivan and drive them out into the wilderness so they can get a good look as well. You turn to your friend and say, “This is the man who changed my life. This is the man who showed me the way of the Lord. This is the man who shared with me the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God in whom I am set free. ” John is a saint and a superhero because he prepares the way for Jesus Christ.

When I asked the Bible study group I lead on Sundays who they might consider to be a modern day John the baptizer, they were a little quiet for a moment. It’s a rather difficult thing to ponder. What makes a John the baptizer in our time and place? Who can fill his sandals?!

After a moment Kevin Krafue spoke up and said something very profound. It’s the parents he said. Parents are the modern day John the baptizer. Others began to agree and a picture of the modern day John took shape. Parents have the opportunity to walk with their kids through the wilderness of this world from a very early age. Parents have a great deal of influence over their kids, parents get to be the ones to encourage, parents are the ones to echo the call of John to prepare the way of Jesus Christ. There are so many distractions out in this world that all children need the strong encouragement of a John the baptizer in their lives.

As the talk continued the picture of John the baptizer grew clearer. The church community, you and I, entered into the picture. Alongside the parents, we are the ones who make the promise to walk with a child on their journey of faith at their baptism. We stand with the family on the day of a child’s baptism and we promise our support. The pastor asks us during the baptism; “People of God, do you promise to support this child and pray for them in their new life in Christ,” to which we respond together, “We do!” We are witnesses to the good news of Jesus Christ and are entrusted with the passing on of that good news to others.

This is what the second Sunday of Advent is all about. John the baptizer comes to us this morning with a clear message, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” It cannot be said any simpler than that. In our Advent journey, in our making ready for the coming of Jesus Christ, our call is to prepare the way of the Lord. The hope we have in Advent comes from Jesus Christ and it is up to us to spread the word. The wilderness of our world is alive with John’s marching orders and we have the opportunity to take up the call.

You may have noticed the article on the back of the Poinsettia order form this morning. We have stacks of copies of The Lutheran magazine out in the entry way. The Lutheran is filled with stories of everyday disciples like you and me and how they are following Christ in the world, how they are preparing this way for the Lord. Take one with you, read it and pass it on to someone you know. You may never know who will see you as a John the baptizer, preparing the way of Jesus Christ.

And it’s true, we may never know who will want to fill our shoes. We may never know who may think of us as their heroes. But I guarantee you that there are people out there watching. And let me tell you, it doesn’t take super powers to change the world. You don’t have to leap over buildings or fly through the air to be superhero. Every one of us has the ability to change the world. By simply getting up in the morning and walking out into the world and sharing the good news of Jesus Christ and living out his call to love others, you can be the biggest hero in someone’s life.