Can you believe that tomorrow begins a new church year?  As we observe the beginning of Advent, we too observe the beginning of our church calendar, which begins with Hanging of the Greens.  Won't you join us tomorrow morning for Hanging of the Greens?

Please check out all the things happening during Advent and Christmas, by visiting that worship page here, as well as check out the "Social Media Advent Challenge" below in which you are invited to participate all the way through the Christmas season.

Regardless of how you participate this Advent season, we hope to see you soon, to worship and serve together, in God's great name!

I rise to taste the dawn, and find that love alone will shine today.                                                                      
              - Ken Wilber






READING:
This is how much God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son.  And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life.  God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was.  He came to help, to put the world right again.  Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it.  And why?  Because that person’s failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.

This is the crisis that we’re in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness.  They went for the darkness because they were not really interested in pleasing God.  Everyone who makes a practice of doing evil, addicted to denial and illusion, hates God-light and won’t come near it, fearing a painful exposure.  But anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is.
                                      - John 3.16-21 (The Message)


REFLECTION:
We of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) …whoa Nellie! This title requires some explanation. It would be easy to read this title as a claim to be the only true disciples, but that would be a mistake. We firmly believe that we are not the only Christians, but Christians only, serving humbly beside Christians of any other stripe or color.

Anyway, we Disciples recently lost a saint – a truly awesome man! – Fred Craddock, who both inspired and humbled us all. He inspired us with some of the best preaching around; and he humbled us with his commitment to serve “The least of these” in practical, hands-on ways. How he managed to write as prolifically as he did and still find time to serve others remains a mystery God alone can penetrate.

Dr. Craddock begins his commentary on John 3.16 with the caution that it is easy to trivialize this verse. Boy! He could say that again. Most of us know this verse in some form, and most of us trivialize it by reading our meanings into the text. We typically think of God as loving… unless you cross him (sic); in which case God can be a harsh judge. And we trivialize it by thinking of the salvation of the Christ as a pie-in-the-sky reward in the distant future for confessing that we believe this statement about Jesus.

We do this, however, at the expense of its context in John’s theology, losing any chance of recognizing the profundity, subtlety, and radically challenging content of this verse. We need to step back and tease out John’s thought on the nature of the God who loves the world, and what he means by salvation.

I invite you to try this in preparation for Sunday’s worship. Reflect on your notion of the God who loves. Is that all God does? What is this God like? And what is this love John speaks about? Is it sentimental and weak, or profound and powerful? And try to summarize what you think of as salvation. Then on Sunday we will examine this verse, and the passage in which it is nestled, with a view to discard any trivializing tendencies, and catch a glimpse of something both inspiring and challenging that can be embraced by all, including those who think long, hard, and reasonably about spiritual things… and expect preacher types to do the same. Join us, won’t you? 

Suddenly they saw him the way he was, the way he really was all the time, although they had never seen it before, the glory which blinds the everyday eye and so becomes invisible. This is how he was, radiant, brilliant, carrying joy like a flaming sun in this hands… and there on that mountain they saw him, really saw him, saw his light.                         
          - Madeleine L’Engle

READING:
“This isn’t pie in the sky by and by. Some of you who are standing here are going to see it happen, see the kingdom of God arrive in full force.” Six days later, three of them did see it. Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus. Peter interrupted, “Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let’s build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing. Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.”  The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus. Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you’re free to talk.”
                                         - Mark 9.1b-9 (The Message)

REFLECTION:
Those lucky disciples: Peter, James, and John! Jesus invited them to a high and lonely mountain, and there they saw him, really saw him, for the first time. They were offered something precious; a vision, a glimpse of Jesus as he truly is. But it didn’t last. Even before they descended the mountain the vision faded, and they found themselves rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus; no shimmering, no glistening white, just Jesus, a peasant artisan turned teacher with whom they had traveled many dusty roads. There was really no reason for Jesus to swear them to secrecy. By the time they reached the valley his glory, as L’Engle expresses it, had become invisible.

This scene as it unfolds begs the question; what good was the vision? Why bother if it didn’t abide, transforming their lives as they saw it again and again in the following days. The real Jesus had finally shown up, only to disappear again. A vision on a mountain is one thing, but a vision in the valley – smack dab in the middle of daily life – now that would be something! That would change things.

Perhaps the vision was available in the valley, not obscured by the dust they kicked up on their journey. Perhaps there was shimmering and glistening if only they had the eyes to see. Shimmer in the eyes of the one grateful leper who returned to thank Jesus; or a glistening aura emanating from a scene in which Jesus, or even one of the disciples, reached out in compassion to one in need.

This is an important “perhaps” for our faith, because we don’t have the slightest chance of climbing the mountain and seeing the Christ revealed in glory. But perhaps we can “Take the mountain to Muhammad,” as the expression goes. Perhaps we can see the Christ in our everyday experience, if only we have the eyes to see. What would be the circumstances in which we caught a glimpse of the Christ and were ourselves transformed? What type of experience might afford us such a vision of glory? We will consider such questions on Sunday. We hope to see you then.

Unity is not something we are called to create; it’s something we are called to recognize.
        - William Sloane Coffin

“We are more alike, my   
                                                  friends, than we are unalike.”
                                                          - Maya Angelou

READING:
In Christ’s family there can be no division into Jew and non-Jew, slave and free, male and female. Among us you are all equal. That is, we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ. Also, since you are Christ’s family, then you are Abraham’s famous “descendant,” heirs according to the covenant promises.
                             - Galatians 3.28-29 (The Message)    


REFLECTION:
I will never forget Louis Moore and the lesson he taught me one sultry summer’s evening long ago in the Deep South. The year was 1967, and Louis was one of a handful of Blacks bussed into Minor High School where I attended. They were all kids of significant courage who braved the slurs and abuse of far too many students who – how shall I say this? – lacked moral fiber. But Louis stood above them all. Of the 150 or so kids who went out for football in the spring, Louis was the only black. Most of the other 149 had advanced from Dixie Junior High School, the home of the rebels. Colors? Blue and Gray. Mascot? A Confederate flag. But Louis was not to be intimidated. He stood up under pressure I can’t even imagine, went back day after day always finding himself at the bottom of the depth chart and starting over, and finally made the team. He was the first, and at the time the only, black football player for the fighting Tigers.

The day etched in my memory occurred half way through summer training camp, 2 weeks of twice a day practice. There was a morning practice of 3 hours, several hours of sleep, a bite of food, and an evening practice that lasted until the cows came home. We were always exhausted; battered, sore, and bruised; never sure if we could make it through one more day.

After one particularly grueling evening practice, I sat on the bench facing my locker, stripped from the waist up, elbows on knees, utterly exhausted, trying to find the strength to get up and go to the showers. Suddenly the isle cleared out and looking up I saw Louis at the other end of the isle sitting on the bench facing his locker, stripped from the waist up, elbows on knees, utterly exhausted, trying to find the strength to get up and go to the showers. Our eyes met, and we shared a pained expression that said everything that needed to be said. But in that moment a light dawned in my spirit, and in that most common setting I realized that we were the same, Louis and I. We mirrored each other; like a reflection in a mirror.

That experience shed a little light for me on ethnic unity and equality, and the light has been shining ever since, growing stronger, and illuminating other groups equally despised, rejected, and pushed to the margins of society; groups with which we need to recognize unity. On Sunday we will celebrate equality and unity with friends from the Historic Second Baptist Church of Olathe, our own ministry partner Rios de Agua Viva, and friends from The Raindrop House in Lenexa. Join us at 10:30 AM for a rousing worship gathering, and stay for dinner… it’s on us.

To celebrate Epiphany is to join the magi in laying before the Christ everything we have to give, beginning with ourselves.  And when we do, we too will find our pride empty, our wisdom lacking, and our gifts overshadowed by God’s gifts to us.


READING: 
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: “And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.” ’ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.


REFLECTION:
At long last we approach the 12th day of Christmas – Epiphany – and the conclusion of our Christmas celebration. Throughout this joyous season, worship at OPCC has been guided by the image of a star. One Star… Many Lights has been our mantra. One star, that is to say, that not only shines on our lives, but shines as well into and through our lives.

This image is particularly appropriate for Epiphany, for the star plays a central role in the story Matthew recounts. It was a star that seduced the Magi, lured them from their home far away, and guided them to Bethlehem. And what better image to represent Epiphany, which is itself a shining forth or revealing? In its light we see clearly for the first time, and the sight we behold changes our lives dramatically, just as it changed the lives of our ancient friends, the Magi.

But here, at long last, the image must change. For when all is said and done it is not a star we seek; one unique star that will continue to guide our steps. It is not a star whose nature is illuminated by the story. It is, rather, something like a star that we seek; something – or someone – whose impact is so very star-like: it illumines, it guides, it warms, it enlivens, it animates, it inspires, and it empowers us to live abundantly and fully.

The expression – choose something like a star – of course derives from the poem of the same name by Robert Frost. In part the poem reads:

O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud…
Some mystery becomes the proud…
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid (calm).

As we gather for worship on Sunday, it will not be a star we seek. Rather, we will seek something like a star; we will seek the One whose luminous nature is reflected meagerly in the star’s light. And I hope you will join us.