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Expectations

Title slide with a photo of a Christmas tree reflecting in a window

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont Church
Fourth Sunday in Advent
December 24, 2023
Luke 1:26-45[1]

Sermon for December 24, 2023 at Bluemont Church.
Tonight there will be a candlelight service at Mayberry Church at 6 PM.

Our wait is almost over. It seems as if we should have another week before Christmas. After all, today is the 4th Sunday of Advent and tonight, we celebrate Christmas Eve with a candlelight service at Mayberry Church, celebrating the birth of our Savior. This year, the calendar tricks us!

Of course, our wait for Jesus’ return continues. I hope our celebrating Jesus’ first coming will be more than opening gifts. Not only should we give thanks for his birth, but with the excitement of a child looking for Santa’s sleigh in the night sky, we should long for his return. 

God’s timing is different than ours. Sometimes the wait is for generations and centuries. But God is good and faithful; his promises are fulfilled. We might think we waste time waiting. But during periods of waiting, God transforms his people. Being patient is a godly trait that we all need to work on. 

Today, we will be looking at two women, one old and the other young, both expecting their first child. Expectations filled their nine-month wait. Read Luke 1:26-45.

###

There was once a spoiled and rotten child… As Christmas approached, he produced a letter to Santa with a wish list that rivaled a Russian novel. And he expected to receive it all. “Christmas is not the season of entitlement,” his mother said in a scolding tone.[2] His parents, knowing they needed to nip his attitude in the bud, forced him to sit in front of the Nativity scene in the living room and contemplate the meaning of Christmas. Then he was to write a letter wishing Jesus a happy birthday. 

The boy stared intently at the manger, but he couldn’t get it out of his head that Christmas wasn’t just about him receiving gifts. He began to compose a letter. “Dear Jesus,” he wrote, “If you bring me all that I want, I’ll be good for the year.”  Then he thought about how hard that’d be. He tore up the letter and tossed it in the waste basket. 

He started over. “Dear Jesus, if you bring me all that I want, I’ll be good for a month. Again, the thought about how hard that would be, to be good for a month, for 30 days. He crumbled the letter and dropped it in the waste basket. 

He started again. “Dear Jesus, if you bring me all that I want, I’ll be good for a week.” Thinking further, he realized how futile such an effort would be. He tossed that letter into his rapid filling waste basket and resumed his contemplation of the Nativity.

Suddenly he spotted the figure of Mary, in the back, behind the manger, a beautiful young woman wrapped in a light blue shawl, her face shining as she gazed upon her newborn son. He snatched Mary out the Nativity, wrapped her in some tissue paper and hid her in the bottom drawer in his dresser. Then he went back to writing his letter. “Dear Jesus, if you ever want to see your mom again…”

The first time I ever told this joke, it was at a Christmas service I preached at in a local prison. I never heard a crowd laugh so much. Perhaps they identified with the boy. But they also know something about waiting, and that’s the theme from this passage I want us to explore this morning. 

Parents, especially mothers know about waiting… Those nine months can be hectic as you learn about breathing techniques during delivery and how to care for a newborn. And then there is the necessity of preparing for a nursery—most of us are beyond repurposing a manger for a crib. Waiting means there’s anticipation and hope. You pray for your soon to be born child with the hope they won’t grow up to be the terror like the little boy in my opening story. But even if that happens, we’ll still look back on earlier innocent moments with a smile.         

I can’t imagine what must have gone through Mary’s mind as she is visited by Gabriel. Engaged to Joseph, she carries a special child. But she’s told to have no fear (easier for the angel to say than for Mary to do). Gabriel explains about how the child was conceived and his purpose in life. 

Gabriel also has another message, one about her relative, Elizabeth. After years of trying to conceive a child, she’d given up hope. Now that she’s old, she finds herself pregnant. It seems impossible, but Gabriel reminds Mary that nothing is impossible for God.

Mary heads down into the Judean hill country to visit Elizabeth. It used to be that way; a young woman not yet married, yet pregnant, goes to live with an aunt or a grandmother. With Zechariah struck silent for his disbelief,[3] the two women talked incessantly about their expectant babies. We’re told that when they greeted each other, Elizabeth’s child, who will become John the Baptist, jumps in her womb. The premature boys in the womb recognize each other. 

There is much excitement, for they understand God is doing something new. But they must wait. They must wait till their children are born, and then they must wait till they are grown. Jesus, we learn, doesn’t start his ministry till he’s thirty.[4] And poor John’s parents. I’m sure they hoped their son would lead worship in a fine synagogue in a respectable city. If they lived long enough, they got to see him preach knee deep in the muddy Jordan.[5] God works in mysterious and strange ways.

In a devotion based on this text, the late Henri Nouwen wrote: 

 I find the meeting of these two women very moving, because Elizabeth and Mary came together and enabled each other to wait.  Mary’s visit made Elizabeth aware of what she was waiting for. The child leaped in joy in her. Mary affirmed Elizabeth’s waiting…. These two women created space for each other to wait. They affirmed for each other that something was happening that was worth waiting for.”[6]

I like the idea of the two of them creating space for the other to wait. Our world encourages us to rush in and fix things right away. We don’t value waiting. We need to create space for us and for others to wait, trusting that God works within us as we wait. 

It is healthy for us to accept and understand that there are things in life we can’t control. We can’t control when God wants to act. Mary and Elizabeth, in our passage today, had no control over what was happening. 

If it had been in Elizabeth’s control, I’m sure that she’d given birth to John when she and Zechariah were young enough that their backs didn’t ache from picking up the boy. And Mary, I’m sure, imagined waiting on kids until she and Joseph married and had time for each other. Maybe taken a cruise or purchased a house. The idea of honeymooning in Egypt with a newborn, as a refugee on the run from the authorities, wasn’t any more romantic then than it would be today.  

Let me talk a bit about the church and waiting. I admit, I’m often frustrated at the pace the church moves.  It was worse when I was younger. Early in my ministry, I started comparing my attempts at changing the course of a church to that of a Captain of a battleship steering with a canoe paddle. Change comes slowly. Some people get upset with that (while others don’t want change at all). 

Looking at scripture, we seechange takes time. We should be more patient. God seems to wait till the timing is right, and only then does the speed of change accelerates. At the time of our text, God had been quiet for centuries. There had been no prophets in Israel. And then, suddenly, God acts. And the world changes forever. 

We might often wonder what God is up to. But we should remember that God’s will has a “what and when” component.[7]We can want things to go faster, but we must remember that its best if we go with God’s timing. Otherwise, we might make a mess of things.

The two women in our passage today, one who may have only been barely more than a child and the other who was up in years, remind us that whatever our age (or whatever our level of spiritual maturity may be) when we open to God, the Almighty can use us to do incredible things. We just must be open to the Lord and to wait on his timing. 

We live in a world where we expect instant gratification. But when it comes to our faith, such expectations may be unrealistic and even harmful. Having faith means we’re in God’s hands and open to his timing. We don’t know when Jesus will return, but we should anticipate it and be ready. In the meantime, like Mary and Elizabeth, we support one another.  Amen. 

[1] I preached a different version of this sermon on December 15, 2011 in Hastings, Michigan.

[2] My Adult Ministry coordinator, MaryMartha Melendy, when I served First Presbyterian Church in Hastings, Michigan, used this phrase.

[3] Luke 1:20

[4] Luke 3:23

[5] Matthew 3; Mark 1:1-9; Luke 3:1-21; John 3:22-24. John’s preaching included both the Jordan River and that that region.

[6] Henri Nouwen  “Waiting for God” in Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2001), 35.

[7] Larry Osborne, Sticky Teams (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), 179.

A Christmas tree reflecting in a window
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Christmas Letter 2023

Title "Christmas 2023, with photos of Bluemont Church in Snow, Laurel Fork Road in snow, and looking inside at night on the Christmas tree at Mayberry Church

I used to always send out Christmas letters, but I stopped doing this around 15 years ago. It got old and most people kept up with me on Facebook. Besides, I live with some private people and there’s only so much I can say about the dogs in the house. So, after a long dry spell, here’s my attempt at this genre again as I focus on myself… 

Christmas is just a few days away. While we have had snow already, it doesn’t appear we’ll have a white Christmas here along the Blue Ridge. But only time will tell. After all, this is the season of miracles. And our world could use a few miracles these days, and there are greater needs than a few snowflakes. For the holiday in which we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, this year has been one of war. From Ukraine to the Middle East, along with various spots in Africa, Asia, and South America, we hear of wars and rumors of wars. Pray for peace. We could all use a little. 

It’s cliché to speak about how fast a year has flown by, but it seems that 2023 has been faster than normal. Wasn’t it just a few months ago when I entered the year with COVID. 2022 was a Christmas to forget. I came down with COVID two days before Christmas. Thankfully, I recorded the sermon for Christmas Eve, allowing me to still appear on a big screen TV placed in the sanctuary on a super cold night. COVID kept its grip on me well into January. On the positive side, I got a lot of reading done.  After everyone else in the household came down with it, I moved out of quarantine in my basement office. While thankful for technology, I hope never again to open Christmas presents by FaceTime. 

Early November, looking toward the Buffalo. We will have an incredible view from the back dome

2023 was finally the year we contracted with a builder for planned addition to our house. It was scheduled to begin in May and to be done by August. Because of rain, it didn’t begin until well into June. They pushed finish date back to November. I thought we’d be done in time for a Christmas open house. No such luck. As of today, we’re still missing one of the large, specially made, windows, which didn’t make it with the others. Nor have they started the work on the deck on the back. Hopefully it’ll be done by the spring, and we can have everyone over to enjoy our view of the Buffalo. I’m not holding my breath. 

Of course, the delays cut into travel plans. I still have two weeks of vacation remaining; the other two I spent working on the house. But I like to be here when work happens. Now if we can just get folks to work more than a day every other week. Of course, these are minor first world problems when compared to the rest of the world. On the positive side, I have logged many miles walking the backroads around Carroll County. 

I got away for a Theology Matter’s Conference in Hilton Head in March of this year. As always, the speakers were excellent. Afterwards, I spent some time sailing at Skidaway before heading up to Wilmington to see my father and caught up with a couple of friends from high school

Highland Ave, Pittsburgh PA
In front of the seminary, looking toward East Liberty Presbyterian Church

In July, my Foundation for Reformed Theology seminar group meet in Pittsburgh. I stayed at the seminary. This was my first time being there in over 30 years and I made the most by going up a few days early. I got to see several classmates from seminary.

Lea Austin and Lee Dwyer and I went to a ballgame. The Pirates lost. Afterwards, we meet Walt Pietschmann for dinner. I had a wonderful lunch at a continuing care facility north of the city, thanks to Jean Henderson. She was the director of Field Education and Placement when I was in seminary. She arranged a lunch for me with her and two other residents of the facility, (Charles Partee and Don Gowan). Charles was a history professor. He confessed at lunch his fear he’d be discovered as a fraud, for he considered himself a philosopher. It was good to see Charles again, as he’s the one professor I’ve kept up with over the years.  Gowan was an Old Testament professor. I also had lunch with Steve Crocro, and Mary Witul. It was good to see old friends. 

PNC Park, Pittsburgh, PA
PNC Park in Pittsburgh

I caught a second ball game with my theology group along with another friend, Cody Watson, who happened to be in the area for the New Wilmington Missionary Conference. The Pirates lost. They started the season so hot, but after they slipped under .500, they were never able to pull themselves back into a winning season. This letter sounds depressing, doesn’t it. 

cucumbers
I think the left is a Dester II and the right a Japanese Climbing cucumber.

On a more positive note, my garden produced well this summer. I had a bumper crop of cucumbers (28 quarts of lime pickles, 5 quarts of dill pickles). My tomatoes produced well. In addition to eating daily tomato sandwiches from late July to late September, I canned 18 quarts of tomato soup and froze another 20-some pints of tomato sauce. I’ll also be enjoying winter squash until spring and have a couple of nice Amish pie pumpkins to hold me over.  I even had a few messes of okra, which doesn’t like the coolness of the mountain climate.

I have also enjoyed many good books this year. In fiction, the best book was Barbara Kingsolver’s novel, Demon Copperhead. This should be required reading for anyone living in these parts. The setting for the story is in far western part of Virginia, but she addresses problems that plague rural America. In the non-fiction category, I’d have to nominate Wendell Berry’s, The Need to be Whole. The book sums up much of his mission in life as he addresses issues with the land and race in American. Berry draws heavily on Scripture and does a wonder exposition on the Ten Commandments. Another good book, for the fun of it, is Bill Bryson’s One Summer, America 1927. Bryson captures a more innocent world that existed a century ago, and as is his trademark, he finds humor everywhere.

We got away for a short trip to Bluefield, West Virginia for the HopeWords Writer’s Conference. This is an incredible conference and it’s the second time Donna and I have attended. Sadly, I’ll probably miss it in 2024 as it conflicts with the “Faith and Writing Conference” at Calvin College.  

I am blessed to serve two Rock Churches along the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was a dream of mine to go back to a small church toward the end of my ministry and these churches have been a blessing. I enjoy preaching and visiting with people without the administrative headaches, and look forward to a few more good years before retirement (and writing my memoirs).

Sadly, however, 2023 became a year of deaths. At 66, I’m at the age where those who are a decade or two ahead of me are coming to the end of their lives. But there were also several deaths of friends who were my age and even younger. We need to enjoy and make the most of the time we’re given. 

May 2024 be a year of blessings. Our world could use some good news. We celebrate the birth of our Savior at the darkest time of the year (for those of us in the northern hemisphere). As the gospel of John reminds us, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.”  Let’s believe in miracles!

Merry Christmas,
Jeff 

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A Voice Crying Out in the Wilderness

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
December 17, 2023
John 1:6-8, 19-28

Sermon recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, December 15, 2023

After the lighting of the Advent candle:

Why did Jesus come? I hope you ponder this question during the season of Advent. In this season of darkness,  we recall Jesus’ coming and long for his return. 

Athanasius, one of the early Church theologians, in his classic book, On The Incarnation,[1] provides us with reasons God became a human being in the life of Jesus. These are all things of which only God can do. 

First, Jesus forgives our sins. We can’t do that! 

He completes the work of creation by helping to restore within us the image of God. Once that image is tainted, we can’t do anything about it. But God can. 

And finally, Jesus reveals the heart of God the Father. God is God, we’re not. Without the revelation brought to us by Jesus, we would not know of God’s goodness. All these things are beyond our abilities. We must depend upon God who came to us in Jesus Christ. 

Before the reading of the scripture:

John’s gospel is unique from the very beginning. The Prologue, the title given to the first 18 verses of John, provides a view of a dark world. And then comes light, the light of Christ. This section “oscillates” between a metaphorical introduction to Jesus and the preparation made by “an apocalyptic prophet, John.[2]

But John the Baptist’s presentation differs from what we find in the other gospels. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all refer to a John Brown type of character, who points his fingers at the people’s sins, says harsh things, wears weird clothing, and lives on a strange diet.[3]We don’t see this side of John the Baptist in John’s gospel. In some ways, the Baptizer in John’s gospel is boring. But there’s a reason for this. I hope you think about this, for it applies to how follow Jesus. 

Preaching about John the Baptist from John the gospel is difficult. I’ll do my best to differentiate between the two Johns, for they are different people. Sometimes, to keep them straight, I’ll refer to John the Baptist as the Baptizer and John the author as the gospel writer. 

Read John 1:6-8, 19-28

When you go out for a night to a concert or comedy club, you are there to see the main act. That’s the draw. But before the main act come on stage, generally another band or comedian warms up the crowd. The only people who are there to see the warmup act are parents and friends of the performers. 

These the warmup bands are usually up and coming musicians or comedians. It’s how most start out in the entertainment business. The warmup acts begin, then comes the feature act, the one we pay to see. The warmup act is a hard position because you are trying to make a name for yourself. But it would be in bad form to outshine the main act.

In a way, John the Baptist role warms up the setting for Jesus. But John knew his position. He wasn’t trying to make a name for himself. Instead, he knew his goal was to point to Jesus, the Messiah, who we get the sense is already on the scene, hiding in the crowds. 

John and Jesus are contemporaries. From Luke’s gospel, we learn John was only a little older than his cousin, Jesus.[4] John just starts his career earlier. His role was to prepare people for Jesus’ arrival. 

In the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), we learn more about how John went about preparing people. He called them to repentance. He was harsh on those who abused their power, calling the people a brood of vipers. Shaken, they asked what they should do. John encouraged them to bear fruit worthy of repentance such as giving to those in need and being honest in their dealings.[5]

Furthermore, John the Baptist attacked those in power. The Pharisees and Sadducees received his wrath.[6] He also attacked Herod, the ruler, for his evil which included luring away his brother’s wife. The later accusation landed John in prison and eventually to his execution, where his head was displayed on a platter.[7]

And of course, John was known for his eccentric dress (camel hair and leather) and unusual diet (bugs and honey).[8]

But in today’s reading, John the gospel writer doesn’t provide such exciting details. We ponder the reason why John presents a more domestic Baptizer. I think John left out those details because he wants us to focus, as did the Baptizer, not on John’s work, but on the one coming. After all, the gospels are not about John the Baptist. It’s about Jesus. Yes, the Baptizer plays an important role in announcing Jesus’ coming. However, ultimately, it’s not a story about him but about the one to come.

This is also true in our lives. We are not to draw people to ourselves. Such is the behavior of a cult, not the church. It might be the great sin committed by preachers in that we try to get people to like us. But our role is to point others to Jesus, not to tiptoe around issues so that others will like us. At best, we’re servants of Jesus, but like John, we’re not even worthy of that role. 

Later, in John’s gospel, after Jesus was well known, a group of Greeks in Jerusalem (perhaps they were tourists who heard about Jesus) approach Philip, one of the disciples. “Sir,” they say, “we wish to see Jesus.”[9] Again, this is the purpose of John’s gospel, to show Jesus. 

That verse, “We wish to see Jesus,” is often found in pulpits such as the one from which I preached on Skidaway Island. Those in the congregation couldn’t see it, but if you stood in the pulpit, you couldn’t miss it. The sign reminded the one preaching that our purpose is to introduce and help people see Jesus. 

By leaving off the interesting tidbits of John the Baptist’s life, John the gospel writer tells us just enough about him to keep the focus on Jesus. 

So, what do we learn about John the Baptist in this text? We’re told that John was sent from God to point the way to Jesus. Then, John himself denies that he is the Messiah, when confronted by the Jewish leaders sent to check him out. Instead, he is the one fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah, the one preparing the way of the Lord. 

And finally, as John the Baptist deemphasized himself and acknowledged he’s not even worthy of being a slave to Jesus. At this time, in royal households and the very rich (think about the one percenters of the first century), slaves who did the most menial tasks for their masters. This included tying and untying sandal straps. But John says he’s not even worthy of such a task. 

Of course, none of us are worthy. But because of Jesus’ grace, we are invited into his family and called to do his work in the world.

The baptizer introduced to us by John is humble. He has one task, to prepare the way for Jesus’ coming. He fulfills this task as he baptizes people in anticipation of Jesus. 

This Advent Season, we should be like John the Baptist as he’s portrayed by John. We don’t have to eat locust or wear camel clothing (although I happen to like camel hair sports coats during the winter). But John’s camel clothing wasn’t a fashion statement. 

Instead, like John, we should humbly let others know, by our examples and lifestyle, the important role Jesus plays in the hope we have for the future. This message needs to be heard in the dark world in which we live, a world where wars rage, the poor starve, and those without medical care suffer. Do what you can to help others as you praise Jesus’ name and so prepare the world for his return. 

This week, one of the easiest things to do is invite family and friends to our Christmas Eve service, where it’s all about Jesus, born in a manger. And yet, this humble Jesus, also rules the universe.

To Jesus Christ, who loves us
and freed us from our sins by his blood 
and made us to be a kingdom, 
priests of his God and Father, 
to him be glory and dominion forever.[10] Amen. 

[1] Saint Athanasius (c.297-337, AD), On the Incarnation (Public domain texted formatted and printed by Cliff Lee, 2007). 

[2] Gerald Sloyan, John, Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1988), 13. 

[3] See Matthew 3:1-12, Mark 1:1-8, and Luke 3:1-18. 

[4] Upon learning of her pregnancy, Mary goes to Elizabeth’s home. Elizabeth six months pregnant with John. See Luke 1:36-45. 

[5] Luke 3:7-14

[6] Matthew 3:7.

[7] Luke 3:19. See also Matthew 14:1-12 and Mark 6:14-42. 

[8] Matthew 3:4-6 and Mark 1:6.

[9] John 12:20-21. See also https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCf3lvUpWL4

[10]From Revelation 1:5-6

bird on a Christmas tree
from my Christmas Tree
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Doubly Late on the Silver Meteor

This past week, I was on vacation, which is why there was no sermon on Sunday. I reworked this story for posting here. You may have read a lot of my train stories, from all over the world, but this was my first overnight long distance trip. I made the trip in December 1986. I can’t find photos of this trip, which was long before digital photography became available.

picture of me in front of a steel mill
That’s me, 1989, in front of the old Homestead Steel Works, outside of Pittsburgh

Suddenly, everything slid forward. Brakes squealed. To keep upright, I grabbed the overhead luggage rack and held on tight. There was a bang, then a clicking sound ran outside of the car, for the length of the train. We stopped. 

The conductor had been walking down the aisle toward me. He, too, grabbed the overhead bar to keep from falling. His face immediately changed, displaying concern. From his expression, I knew whatever had happened wasn’t normal. As soon as we stopped, he started speaking into his radio as he turned around and headed toward the front of the train. Still not sure what had happened, I looked outside. Shingles, boards, and bits of insulation littered both sides of the tracks.

After about five minutes, the conductor came over the intercom. He informed us we’d just hit a house and were indefinitely delayed. I headed back to the lounge car, where I ran into Marylin. We headed to back of the train. In the fading light, from the back window, we could see two halves of a house sitting beside the tracks. I joked that Abe Lincoln had nothing on me: “I, too, have seen a house divided.” 

We were 30 or 45 minutes from West Palm Beach, riding through orange groves south of Sebring, Florida, when the accident happened. I had just left my new friend, Marylin, a grad student studying genetics at the University of West Virginia in Morgantown. We had seen each other in Pittsburgh when we both boarded the train but didn’t get to know each other until waiting to board our second train in Washington. I was heading to West Palm Beach to meet up with my sister while she was going home for the holiday break in Miami. 

A friend had dropped me off at the Pittsburgh train station in the predawn hours the day before. In contrast to warm and sunny Florida, it was a dreary December day in the Steel City. But that wasn’t unusual, almost all winter days in Pittsburgh are dreary. My train, the Capitol Limited which runs from Chicago to Washington, was late. I sat on my luggage reading and napping as my stomach gnawed. I had planned to eat breakfast on the train and there was no place in station to get anything to eat. 

The train finally arrived just as it was getting light. After finding a seat and having my ticket punched, I headed to the dining car for a French toast breakfast. The train ran along the Monongahela River, past the old J&L and Homestead Steel Mills. A few mills were still running and from the window I saw the glow of the furnaces. At McKeesport, the tracks followed the Youghiogheny, a river I’d never paddled, but knew of its reputation from my kayaking days. The rain and fog made everything seem sad. 

Along the way, the train kept having to stop. Late that morning, talking to the conductor in the lounge, I learned that one of the baggage cars had a hot wheel that kept overheating. Every time we stopped, we lost another half hour or so. I worried if I would miss my connection south. We were several hours late arriving in Cumberland, Maryland, where the tracks began to follow the Potomac River toward D.C. In Harper’s Ferry, they uncoupled the train and placed the trouble car off on a siding. It was too late. We’d arrive in Washington after my train to Florida was scheduled to depart.

There are two trains daily that make the run from New York to Miami. The first, the Silver Star, was my train. Luckily, there was room on the second train, the Silver Meteor. It runs a couple hours behind the first train. I called my sister and let her know that I’d be on the later train. She wasn’t home, but I left a message. I ate dinner in the crowded station (the Washington station was in the process of being rebuilt) as I passed the hours reading. 

It was night by the time we boarded. After a beer in the lounge car, I headed off to sleep, enjoying the rocking of the southbound train rolling through Virginia and the Carolinas. The long day of waiting on top of a long semester in school had taken its toll. I was tired.

I woke to the sun rising in a clear sky. We ran though forests of pines and wire grass, paralleling Interstate 95. The flat land was strangely familiar. I’d grown up in such country. The weather was also warmer. I changed from my jeans to shorts and a tee-shirt and found my flip flops, before heading to the lounge car for coffee.

We got into Savannah around mid-morning. I got off the train and stretch my legs as it made a 15-minute stop. I’d learned that during the night, we’d lost several hours of time. I again tried to call my sister. I left her another message, telling her to be sure to call Amtrak before driving to West Palm to pick me up.  Sometime after Savannah, I met up again with Marylin, the grad student from West Virginia. We spent much of the day in the lounge car talking with each other and to other students. We also spent time napping in her roomette. The two of us made an interesting couple. I’d just finished my first semester of seminary and she was Jewish but considered herself an atheist. It was her company that I had just left when I headed back to pack up by stuff when the accident occurred. 

Sadly, with the train running so late, they ran out of food. The dining car didn’t have enough grub to open for dinner and what few sandwiches were available in the lounge car were quickly snatched up. They tried to make it up for people by offering a free drink, but they quickly ran out. We waited. The operating crew had to be replaced. Railroad rules: if you’re in an accident, a drug test was required. Seeing a house in the middle of the tracks almost sounds like someone was on drugs, but this was too real. Also, a safety crew had to inspect the train before they could move again. We sat in the dark in the middle of an orange grove. 

Rumors spread. They may have been true, but we had no way to know. This was long before smart phones. One had to do with the fact that we had two engines pulling the train as they were trying to make up time. Normally, when the southbound trains arrived in Orlando, they split the train. One group goes to Tampa, the other to Miami. Both trains are pulled by a single engine. Having two engines worked in our favor, as the first we learned had been badly damaged by the metal I-beams which supported the house. We were told by the new crew that luck kept the train from jumping the track, which would have made the collusion much worse. After the inspectors checked out, they were able to back us up on the second engine and reroute us on a different track.

The other tale had to do with the house. The tracks were built up and the semi pulled the house up on the tracks, but it bottomed out. Knowing they were in a pickle; they disconnected the semi from the house instead of walking around the curve and placing flares to warn the train and perhaps give the train enough time to stop. 

After about five hours of waiting and grumbling, we finally resumed our journey. When I debarked in West Palm Beach, there was my sister. She was nearly as exhausted as me.

Had I been on the Silver Star, the train I was supposed to be on, I would have arrived early that morning in West Palm. She had worked that night in the hospital and then, since she was closer to West Palm, was to pick me up. She waited and never saw me get off the train. When she asked, they told her that all passengers coming from the West had been rebooked on the Silver Meteor. They suggested that before she return to the station, she should call to make sure of the time as the train was already running several hours late. She did, but since she lived almost an hour from West Palm, in Stewart, she left home about the time of the accident. While I waited on the train, she waited in the station.

It was after midnight when we got to her home. The next day, she had planned to take me to Epcot for my Christmas present. So, we got up early to make the drive to Orlando. We had a great time, but we were both exhausted. 

Other train travel stories:
Trains and Karl Barth (train ride from Danville, VA to Atlanta, GA)
Heading to Iona (Edinburgh to Oban)
Ride of a lifetime (in the cab of the V&T in Nevada)
From Bangkok to Seim Reap
Riding the International (Butterworth, Malaysia to Bangkok, Thailand
Malaysia’s Jungle Train (Singapore to Kota Bharu
Southwest Chief (Flagstaff, AZ to Kalamazoo, MI)
City of New Orleans (Battle Creek, MI to New Orleans, LA)
Morning train to Seoul (Masan to Seoul)

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Waiting with hope

title slide with tree in fog

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
Mark 13:24-37
December 3, 2023

After the Advent Candle Lighting
We live in such a wonderful age where solutions to our problems appear regularly. Just this week, I learned Doritos, that’s right, the corn chip company, has unveiled an app for our phones and computers. Miraculously, it silences the sound of Doritos crunching in your mouth.[1]

When you’re on the phone or in meeting over the internet, you can stuff your mouth and crunch away. Imagine taking an online class, you can eat without disturbing anyone. Or if you have a phone call during an NFL game, you can continue snacking as you mumble as if you’re listening and not watching the game. Don’t we live in an incredible age? 

Perhaps because I’m old fashion enough to prefer potato chips to Doritos, I found myself asking why we need to eat when in virtual meetings. I mean, who takes corn chips into a staff meeting or a classroom. 

Science takes care of many problems but continues to struggle with the ones which really matter. Cancer hasn’t been eradicated, pollution causes premature deaths, plastics fills our oceans, and nuclear war remains a possibility. We need to do what we can to make this world a better place. Biblically, while we are called to work to better the world, we also are reminded that Christ will return.[2] Advent is not just recalling those waiting for Christ’s first visit, it’s about anticipating his return. 

Before the Scripture Reading
Today, we explore the end of the 13th Chapter of Mark’s gospel. This chapter takes on an apocalyptic flavor. We’re jumping into the middle of Jesus’ teachings. The stage was set earlier. Admiring the temple, Jesus foretells of its destruction. Then, when a group of disciples corner Jesus, they ask when it will take place.[3]Jesus talks about tribulations. But it’s not all doom, for he ends discussing his return. Of course, he doesn’t provide a clear understanding as to when this will happen, only that we are called to be ready.[4]

Advent is a season of waiting not just for Christmas, but for the hope we have in Christ’s return. 

Read Mark 13:24-37.

Keep awake…  That used to be so hard when I was a kid. Sermons were the worse. My eyes became heavy and slowly gravity won. But school could be just as hard, especially in a warm classroom before air conditioning. 

Keeping awake was difficult, except for on Christmas Eve, when you were told to go to sleep. You expected to awake to something magical. With so much anticipation, sleep was allusive. I’d roll and roll and when my parents looked in, pretend to be asleep. The clocked ticked away.  

Keep awake, you don’t know when this is all going to happen and when the Son of Man might appear. It’s been almost 2000 years since Christ left. We’re weary of waiting. It’s not something we’re good at doing. We fret when waiting in the doctor’s office. We stew when stopped for the construction along Highway 58. We brood if a waitress or waiter in a restaurant is inefficient. 

Waiting makes us feel out of control, unimportant, unwanted, and helpless. Yet, we must wait all the time. Children wait for Christmas morning. Parents wait on children to go to sleep. And the more we wait, the more our blood pressure rises. 

And then, Advent rolls around in the church calendar. A period of waiting. Advent challenges our desire for instant gratification. (Such as provided by the Doritos app). However, I suspect most people don’t mind waiting for Christ’s return. After all, we put off important things in life for another time. But that’s risky, Jesus says. It’s a gamble we shouldn’t take.

Mark provides us with a gloomy picture in this chapter. Much of the chapter refers to the destruction of the temple which occurred in 70 AD. It was a period of false Messiahs and great upheaval. But in verse 24, Jesus moves to discussing his return. Think of it this way. With the temple gone, Jesus, the risen Christ, becomes the focus. Jesus should live in our hearts and be present in the church… But he’s also coming back in person… The good news is that future is in his hands. 

In a commentary on this passage, a friend writes: 

“If the first advent of Christ has any meaning whatsoever, it is only because he is coming back to judge the living and the dead. If he is not coming back, then there is nothing to celebrate at Christmas….  If ditties along the lines of ‘Have a holly jolly Christmas’ could cure what ails us in this life, then there never would have been any need for God’s Son to go through the bloody trouble of coming here in person.”[5]

Our world has problems. As sinners, we’re a part of that problem and Christ is the solution.

Our passage begins with a description of terrible days.  The darkening of the sun and moon while stars fall out of the sky… If you ever witnessed a meteor shower high in the western mountains, long from artificial light, you get a sense of how this can be terrifying. Thinking of them as shooting stars, you wonder if any stars left in the sky. Of course, we know they just look like stars, but we can understand why such showers frightened to those in the ancient world. Mark envisions not just a darkening of the sky, but a collapse of things we take for granted. Chaos reigns.[6]

Perhaps we need to look at this passage in a less literal way. The lights of the sky, as in a theater, are lowered so that your focus remains on the action. In this case, the spotlight shines on Jesus Christ. With the distractions removed, everyone pays attention. The scene is scary and wonderful at the same time. It’s God’s great and final drama in history. 

This return involves the gathering of the elect, the faithful, those chosen by God through Christ. The faithful are brought into Christ’s presence. 

Jesus then returns to the question that started this discourse, about when these things (such as the destruction of the temple) will occur. He uses a fig tree as a lesson. Just a day or two before, Jesus cursed a barren fig tree. The tree shriveled and died.[7] The prophets used the fig tree as a symbol of Israel.[8]Now, instead of a fig tree withering, he speaks of when it blooms, which is later that most trees. The budding of the fig tree is a sign of when summer is at hand. 

Jesus likens the budding figs to when this will all happen. Jesus the Messiah rising into prominence as the temple, which will soon be no more, fades from history. We no longer see God in relationship to the temple. Instead, we encounter God through his Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ. The fig tree which appears dead in winter, puts forth new sprouts and is alive. Christ, who was dead, is resurrected. Christ who ascended to heaven, lives in our hearts. And he will return. 

Jesus doesn’t give an exact time for his return. We’re still waiting. 

What’s important is that we remain ready. “Keep awake,” this chapter ends, or as The Message translates the ending verse, “Stay at your post. Keep watch.”  As one commentator on this passage writes, “vigilance, not calculation, is required.”[9] Don’t try to figure out when Christ returns. Instead, be ready.

The use of the story about the slaves waiting on the master implies that they have assignments which must be fulfilled while the Master is away. Interestingly, with this section in Mark’s gospel, relating to the Master’s return, there are no signs given. The slaves don’t know what to look for, so they must continue with their tasks… Likewise, each member of the church has work to do and by doing that for which we’ve been called, we fulfill our obligation to “watch.”[10]

Christ has come, Christ will come again. But until he does, we are his hands and feet in the world. We should take care of one another while telling his story so that others will catch a glimpse of the hope the world has in Jesus Christ. “Stay at your post.” We do what we’re called to do so we might be ready when Christ comes. Come, Lord Jesus, Come. Amen. 

[1] https://www.businessinsider.com/doritos-creates-ai-software-that-silences-chewing-noises-2023-11?op=1

[2] I like this quote from James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 402: “If we dispense with eschatology, then the purpose and destiny of history fall into the hands of humanity alone. No one, I think Christian or not, takes solace in that prospect…” Human life needs to be “redeemed.” 

[3] Peter, James, John and Andrew asked Jesus when this will take place, setting the stage for this dialogue that starts in Mark 13:3. 

[4] Some scholars suggest that this passage is primarily focused on Jesus’ resurrected glory.  See N. T. Wright, Surprised by Scripture: Engaging Contemporary Issues (New York: HarperCollins, 2014), 97.

[5] Scott Hoezee, Elizabeth Steele Halstead, Carrie Steenwyk, “Living in Advent: Worship Ideas from the Gospel of Mark” Reformed Worship 89 (September 2008), 9. 

[6] In Genesis 1, with creation, we see God bringing order to chaos. God has such power and will do it again. 

[7] Mark 11:12-14, 20-21.  Morna D. Hooker, Black’s New Testament Commentaries: The Gospel According to Saint Mark (London: A. C. Black Limited, 1991), 320. 

[8] See Jeremiah 8:13, Hosea 9:10, Joel 1:7, Micah 7:1.  See footnotes for Mark 11:12-14 in The New Interpreters Study Bible (Abingdon Press, 2003). 

[9] William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark: The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 482.

[10] Hooker 322. See also Lane, 484.

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My First Job, Part 3

Title slide showing items from Wilsons Supermarket and cigarette ads

Bert called me into work early one day in 1974. Coming into the store, tying my tie as I walk over to the time clock, I saw Bert talking with Ed. He was one of the two brothers who owned the chain of stores. They called me over and told me I need to take a lie detector test. I was shell-shocked and didn’t have time to object before we were in the office where a stranger sat by a machine. They had me to sit down and the man, whom I’d never seen, explained how the machine worked and said he’d ask me questions. I immediately begin to recall eating a few bananas or grapes that were never paid for while moping the store at night. 

Bert and Ed left the room. The man put clips on my shaking fingers, much like oxygen sensors used in a doctor’s office. A cuff, like one used for blood pressure, was applied to one of my arms. He started off with a bunch of easy questions, most of them personal, like name and age and hobbies and such. Then came the big one. 

“Have you ever stolen anything from the store?”

Knowing my goose was cooked, I admitted eating a few grapes and a banana or two while there late at night mopping. I tried to rationalize saying there was no one to pay and pointed out that other times I weighed the fruit and left the money on a cash register. The man asked more questions about stealing money or about taking things out of the store. Finally, he got to cigarettes and spent some time asking if I or if I knew of anyone who’d stole cigarettes. My answers were honest. I knew of no one who’d stolen money or merchandise. 

I was sweating like a pig when he finally finished. Thinking I was in trouble for my petty thief, I asked him how I did. “I’ll make a report, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said. “But what about the bananas and grapes?” “Don’t worry,” he said laughing. “That’s not what this is about.” 

That night, while closing, Bert called me aside to tell me what this had been about.

In one of the other stores, they’d discovered a regular criminal ring. Another high school student, like me, who handled the tobacco products was stealing them blind. He would order more cases than needed. As this was back before barcode scanners, the only way to know how much product one sold was by how many items were missing from the shelves. According to Bert, the guy stashed the extra cases behind a dumpster. At night, when no one was looking, he’d stash the cases in his car. He’d been stealing five or so cases a week. Each case held 30 cartons. He sold the cases to someone who took the cases up north, where cigarette taxes were higher, to resale on the black market. 

When the Wilson brothers discovered the ring, they brought in a lie detector detective. All all key employees (those who handled lots of money such as the managers, the cashier supervisors, as well as those who handled tobacco products) take a lie detector test. Even Bert and John had to take the test. I had no idea whether it was legal. but I was glad to have survived and to know that I wasn’t going to be fired for being the great grape thief. 

About six months after I started working at Wilson’s, the guy who’d handled the cigarettes went off to college. Bert asked me if I’d be interested. I’m sure he was hoping he’d have me for several years in the position, which turned out to be the case. Furthermore, I was a good candidate because I didn’t smoke.

At this time, it was legal to smoke in North Carolina when you were fifteen, but the store’s policy was to use non-smokers to handle tobacco products. This was in the fall of 1973 and at that time, in North Carolina, a carton of regular cigarettes (ten packs) sold for $1.89. Do the math. Today, a pack of cigarettes will cost you more twice what a cartoon cost in 1973. Back then, if you wanted the longer cigarettes, you had to pony up a dime more for a carton. By the time I left the store in the summer of 1976, cigarettes had jumped to $2.39 and $2.49 a carton.

Every day I worked, I spent about half an hour filling the shelves with tobacco products. This also meant that I had to work more days to keep the shelves stocked. On Wednesday, it took me several hours as I first helped unload the truck. Then I rotated the shelves of product and fill the depleted ones. I would straighten up the tobacco room in the back and make a report on how many cartons of each cigarette we had in stock. Using that information, I made the order for the next week. I found it fun to project how many I felt we would sell. I knew people could become grumpy when we didn’t have their favorite bands. 

We sold lots of Winstons and Salems and Marlboros. If my memory doesn’t fail me, it seems I generally ordered 30 cases of each of those brands a week. We also sold a fair number of Camels as well as Virginia Slims, the choice cigarette for women. I often had to set up displays by the various Cigarettes. Marboros featured cowboys while Virginia Slims featured sexy women and the logo, “You’ve come a long way, Baby.” Having grown up with three grandparents who smoked heavily, I felt there was nothing sexy or macho about cigarettes. 

In the summer, we sold more as tourists would stock up before heading back north. There were a few smaller brands that we might only sell a carton or two a week. As you wanted to keep your product fresh, we’d only have five or six cartons in the store at any one time. Occasionally a tourist would come in looking for some old brand, like a Chesterfield, and buy us out. Then, when the regular purchaser of that brand came in, they would be disappointed that we didn’t have any. 

Another job that I assumed after about a year at the store was price changes. I was provided a printout of new prices and had a grocery cart with a bread rack tied to the top. In the part of the cart where the kids sat, I would stash the tools of the trade. A razor scraper, nail polish remover, rags, black magic markers, and a label machine. On my belt hung a price stamping machine. 

I would go to each product, remove the old price. It the item was cans or glass jars with a metal top, the prices were generally stamped in ink. I’d put the cans on top of the bread tray shelf, pour nail polish removal on the rag and wipe off the products. If there were a lot of such cans to change, I’d get a little high from the smell. Next, I stamped the new price onto the top and placed the product back on the shelf. If it was boxes or frozen items, I would have to ink out the price with a magic marker and then place a label over it.  Sometimes I would use a razor to scrape off a label.

When I first assumed this job in late 1973, after someone else had left for college or another job, I thought it was easy. I made the changes in prices in a hour or two each week. But if you remember the mid-70s, inflation began to skyrocket. By late 1974, it was taking me a full day and sometimes two to make all the changes. Instead of having a page printout, I began to have reams of papers. Some of the products that didn’t move off the shelf fast would have several changes on top. I found myself dreading certain changes, such a baby food. You can image how many jars of baby food a grocery shelf holds and to know that all the prices are going up by a cent or two. It’d take me hours. 

In the summer of 1976, between my freshman and sophomore year in college, I accepted a job at the bakery. Bert asked if I’d like to stay on and continue to do the cigarettes. I agreed. I trained Tom to do the price changes. At the time I left, I thought I’d be back at the store in the fall, when school resumed. Bert and Ed discussed with me about becoming what was known as “the third man,” in a new store being built at Monkey Junction. When the manager and assistant manager were off, I’d be in charge and would be required to close the store a few nights a week. 

The possibility of this new job as the third man sounded good to a college kid. But I finished my summer position at the bakery, the Production manager, called me into his office one day. Don told me he knew I was about to go back to school and wanted to see if there was a way for them to keep me employed. He suggested that I could have a second shift position and continue to go to school in the morning. He offered me a machine operator position and hinted that there might be a chance for me to become a supervisor. As they paid more than the grocery store was offering, I decided to stay with the bakery. I trained my friend Tom to take over the cigarette business at Wilsons. Two years later, I became a supervisor at the bakery.

Grocery Store Stories

My first job

My first job, Part 2

November 1976 and Tom

Bakery Stories 

Coming of Age at the Bakery

A College Boy in the Bakery

Harvey and Ernest

Frank and Roosevelt

The Perils of Working on the Christian Sabbath

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Christ the King

Sermon title slide with a photo of my dog, Mia

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches  
November 26, 2023
Ezekiel 34:11-24[1]

Sermon recorded on Friday, November 24, 2023. I laughed at the way the sun coming into the window made it look at is I had a white glove on my right hand.

Hugh Latimer, a Calvinist, served as Bishop of Worcester in the 16thCentury during Henry VIII’s reign. He was a leader in the English Reformation. King Henry VIII, until he couldn’t obtain a divorce, aligned with the Roman Catholic Church. One Sunday as Latimer prepared to enter the pulpit, he looked out and saw Henry sitting in the pews. 

“Latimer, be careful of what you say today. King Henry is here,” he heard whispered. But then, as he entered the pulpit, he whispered to himself, “Latimer, be careful of what you say today; the King of Kings is here.”[2] Latimer later suffer martyrdom at the hands of Bloody Mary.[3]

Today we’re reminded that like Latimer, we live out our lives in the presence of the true King, Jesus Christ. It’s Christ the King Sunday. That may not mean much to those of us who grew up in non-liturgical churches. After all, Christ should be our king 365 days a year. Make that 366 days next year—it’s a leap year. 

Before reading the scriptures:

As we heard in our New Testament reading,[4] as a king, Christ surprises us. He comes disguised as the poor, the needy, the sick, or one in prison.[5] We also think of Christ as the good shepherd, a common metaphor used for kings in scripture as in the ancient world.[6]  

As a day on the church calendar, Christ the King is relatively new. It was added roughly 100 years ago by Pope Pius XI. Protestants originally shunned the day as too sectarian.[7] In time, however, many Protestant churches adopted the day which falls on the last Sunday of the church’s year. Next week, with Advent, we begin a new cycle in the church’s calendar.

When he introduced Christ the King, Pius XI was concerned how the church should respond to the world. Mussolini ruled Italy and atheistic Communism threatened from Russia. Both demanded the worship of the state. A few years later, as fascism spread in Europe, a handful of Protestants took their turn at speaking out. A group of Reformed and Lutheran Church leaders in Germany published the Theological Declaration of Barmen in 1933. We’ll read from this Declaration as we profess our faith this morning after the sermon. For Christians, Christ is Lord and demands our ultimate allegiance.  

Now, proclaiming Christ as King isn’t a new concept. Scripture proclaims Christ as king. [8] Our Confessions lift his kingly role as one of the three offices of Christ, the other two being prophet and priest.[9]

My sermon this morning comes from a prophecy given to the Prophet Ezekiel. Ezekiel addresses the Israelites in exile in Babylon and lifts a vision of a new order. God will become the “shepherd” of his people. Of course, we who live on this side of the resurrection know the “Good Shepherd.” Read Ezekiel 34:11-24

###

Do you remember Calvin and Hobbes? There was one strip where Calvin was swinging on the playground at school. The bully Moe, who looks to be twice Calvin’s age and as one who may have repeated more grades than he’d passed, calls Calvin a “Twinkie,” saying “get off my swing.” Brave Calvin responds, “Forget it, Moe, wait your turn.” Moe responds with a right punch that knocks Calvin out of the swing and onto the ground. Pulling himself together, Calvin mumbles, “It’s hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning.”[10]

I expect the Israelites in exile felt the same. Where was their God when the Babylonians stormed the walls of Jerusalem? Some lost their faith. But others remained hopeful. Ezekiel speaks to them with a promise. No longer will those in power lead; no longer will those who abuse others continue their terror. Instead, God will lead as a shepherd. As a true shepherd God will protect Israel. This passage contains both judgment and promise!

To fully understand this passage, we should look at the 34th chapter in its entirety. (Your homework assignment for today is to read the chapter in its entirety this afternoon.) The chapter revolves around the “shepherd allegory.” Kings were often called shepherds in the ancient world.[11] The shepherd image for a king implied one who cared and nurtured his subjects. Ezekiel uses this metaphor to highlight the hypocrisy of Israel’s kings, shepherds who “enrich themselves at the expense of the flock.”[12]

A perfect example of Ezekiel’s “bad shepherd king” would be the Czars of Russia. (Putin, Russia’s current leader, just follows their footsteps). Not only did the Czars rule ruthlessly, but they also became the richest monarchs in Europe. They did this while ruling over the poorest country of the continent.

Several years ago, I visited the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg, Russia. A home for the Czars, the place is incredible. It’d take a week to really appreciate all the collected artwork. But as I thought while viewing the treasures, “it’s no wonder the people revolted.” 

A good king is not one who lives high on the hog while his subjects starve. Rather, a good king is like a shepherd, one who helps protect his subjects from danger and leads in a way that they’re provided with fresh fields (or food) and running streams (or clean water). A shepherd is an appropriate name for such a leader.

Unfortunately, Israel didn’t have too many kings like this.  Surely, there were some who did a better job than others. But most looked out for themselves and for their friends, while allowing abuse of their citizens. This chapter begins with a condemnation of such wicked rulers, the “shepherds who have eaten of the fat and clothed themselves with the wool of their flocks yet have not fed the sheep.” 

This is what God promises beginning in the 11th verse. “I, myself,” God proclaims, “will search for my sheep.” God will be the shepherd. God will bring the people, who had been scattered at Jerusalem’s fall, back together. There will be a reversal of their misfortune. God will provide good pasture; God will strengthen the weak; God will heal the sick; God will bind the injured; God will seek the lost. By the beginning of the 16th verse, there seemed to be a balance between judgment and promise, but then there was a shift and God again speaks of judgment.

“The fat and the strong I will destroy,” says God. Notice the shift; God no longer talks to the shepherds, or the rulers. God now addresses the “sheep and goats,” members of the flock. We heard the same thing in our reading earlier from Matthew 25. Obviously, it’s not just the leaders who are abusing their power, but there are some “sheep and goats” who abuse others.

Have you ever watched animals eat and notice how the strong push aside the weak? Eternally, I should be concerned for my dog, Mia. Often when Caroline’s dog, Apple, needs a drink, Mia will decide she, too, needs a drink. Mia is much larger than Apple and will butt the smaller dog away and then drain the bowl. We feed them in separate rooms. Sheep, and other animals, are no different. 

Sheepherders spend a lot of time with the weaker animals trying to strengthen them. If an ewe gives birth to more lambs that she can nurse, the ewe will push away the weakest lamb. The shepherd will have to take that lamb and find another ewe, perhaps one with only a single lamb, to nurse. The sheepherder encourages an “adoptive bond.”[13] Otherwise, the rejected lamb will die. 

Without a shepherd, strong animals take advantage of the weaker animals. And we see such behavior even among humans. Without a good teacher, bullies in the classroom intimidate other students. Without good leaders, those with economic or political clout take advantage and oppress those without.  

Now that God has judged both the shepherds who have ignored the needs of their flocks and the sheep who, in the absence of the shepherds, abused the weaker ones, God returns to the future promise of a new shepherd. God and his servant David will rule and guide the flock. David, the former shepherd who became a king, will return to be God’s prince. The return of God’s king becomes the Messianic Promise spoken to Hebrews living in exile hundreds of miles from their home. God will gather the faithful together and lead them back home, and a king like David will return and rule justly.  

Have these promises of God been fulfilled?  Yes, some of them. And they continue to be fulfilled! A new shepherd, the good shepherd, was born in the city of David—the one you and I proclaim as Savior. We’ll celebrate his birth in five weeks! Yet, as we wait, we’re reminded over we still wait and long for the day proclaimed in scripture when Jesus Christ will return and rule. On that day, wars will cease, and every knee will bow and proclaim Christ as King. Until then, we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, Come.”

Here’s a couple of things to take from this passage.  First, be reminded that bad people exist, as do bad shepherds. There are those who rule ruthlessly and those who use their power to exclude others. As followers of Jesus, we shouldn’t do that, nor do we owe such people allegiance. 

Next, there is a new day coming, one that will bring justice and hope. Ezekiel tells us that God will bring the bad shepherds and the bullies within the flocks to justice. Eternally, we have no need to fear those who abuse, for our eternal hope doesn’t rest in their hands, but in the hands of our loving Savior. 

Finally, as Christians, we long for that day when Christ returns, and his kingship becomes visible. We’re to proclaim this vision to a longing world.

If our allegiance really belongs to Jesus, if Christ really is our king, then we should be like Bishop Latimer and not fear the King Henry XIIIs who sit in our midst. Nor should we fear any other person who might be pushing us to ignore Christ and follow them. Nor should we fear the crowd who may mock our decisions. Instead, we place our hope in our King, Jesus Christ. Amen. 

[1] I preached this sermon, in a slightly different form, on November 20, 2011 and November 26, 2017.

[2] Robert F. Sims, “The Shepherd King,” in Under the Wings of the Almighty in “www.sermonsuite.com.

[3] Mary 1, was the daughter of Henry VIII and his first wife, Catherine of Aragon. She is also known as Mary Tudor and Bloody Mary, because of the number of Protestant leaders she had executed during her attempt to return England to Catholicism. 

[4] Matthew 25:31-46.

[5] From a sermon by Jim Somerville of First Baptist Church in Richmond, VA in 2017. See https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Jim-Somerville-Id-Have-Baked-a-Cake.pdf

[6] Meg Jenista, “Sermon Commentary for Sunday, November 26, 2023, Ezekiel 34:1-16, 20-24. See https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2023-11-20/ezekiel-3411-16-20-24-3/ For scriptural references see Psalm 23, 95, and 100. 

[7] David I. Kertzer, The Pope and Mussolini (New York: Random House, 2014), 84.

[8] Matthew 27:11; John 1:49:1 Timothy 1:17, 6:15; Revelations 15:3, 1:9

[9] “The Westminster Larger Catechism” Questions 43-45.

[10] Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes (November 8, 1990).

[11] Jenista, https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2023-11-20/ezekiel-3411-16-20-24-3/

[12] Margaret S. Odell, Ezekiel (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2005), 432.

[13] When birthing lambs, a sheepherder will often smear the placenta from the lamb born of a ewe in order to entice her to accept a second lamb to nurse and feed.

photo of Mia in a sweatshirt
Mia in my Bluemont Study
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November 1976 and Tom

Title slide with a view of UNCW and a Ford for President campaign button

On the second of November, Election Day, Tom and I met in the cafeteria at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. Normally I rushed from school to the bakery for the second shift, but since it was Tuesday, I was off. At the bakery, those in production worked Sundays and Mondays, then Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. In my spare time that fall, between classes and work, I had volunteered for the Ford Campaign for President. Tom, whom I knew since 1973, when we both starting to work at Wilson’s Supermarket on the same day, also volunteered. Often on Tuesdays, we would be working a phone bank or putting up signs. But now Election Day was here. It was time to rest. 

We talked about the election. While I had worked for Ford, I wasn’t opposed to Carter being President. I had even heard him speak on campus during my freshman year in college. There’s not been many election since that I could say that I admired both candidates. Although in different precincts, both Tom and I voted early that morning. It was our first time going to the polls, and sadly, for Tom, his last. 

While eating, Tom shared with me that he was going back to the eye doctor that afternoon. His eyes had been bothering him, and they couldn’t seem to get his thick glasses adjusted. I had no idea this would be the last time I would see him alive. After all, I no longer worked with him at Wilson’s Supermarket, nor did we have classes together. 

Tom, however, had a class with my fiancé. She had complained to me a few weeks earlier about Tom, how he often sat by her and tried to talk to her in a psychology class. Thinking he was weird, with his thick glasses, the red splotches on his skin, and the way he often twitched his head when talking, she felt he made it hard for her to make friends within her field of psychology. She wanted me to tell him to leave her alone. I refused. We had a bad argument. I started to break up with her. Had I done so, it would have saved me much heartache a few years later. But I didn’t. Before the topic came up again, Tom was struggling to live. 

A few days after that lunch, I received a call from Billy, another friend, who told me that Tom was in the hospital and had a brain tumor. His eye doctor realized something else was wrong and sent him to another physician. Billy and I went to see him at the hospital, but were not allowed in. I later learned they performed the surgery, and the physicians realized it was more complicated than expected. They closed him up and brought in a team from Duke to help with the surgery, but Tom didn’t survive. 

Several of us who had worked with Tom at Wilsons attended the funeral. The service was held at the Catholic Church on Wrightsville Beach.  It seemed odd, but this was the second time I had been in a Catholic Church. Both times had been for a funeral and at the same church. The first funeral was three years earlier, for an another high school friend. In an odd sort of way, Tom was the glue that held several of us together. After we said our goodbyes that afternoon, I would never see the two of them again. 

Wilsons grocery bag

Tom and I started at Wilson’s Supermarket on the same day. Being the new kids in the store, we became friends. And during my time there, Tom generally followed me. When I became the leader of the Saturday night mop crew and had an opening, I invited Tom. He would later take my place running the mop crew. I taught him how to use a cash register, how to handle price changes, and to order cigarettes. Billy started working at Wilsons a few months after us, and he was the first to leave as he graduated in 1974. 

While Tom went to a different school than Billy and me, we often hung out and got into mischief after work.

One night, Tom was riding with Billy, and I was following. We headed south on South College. When we got to where the road split off with Shipyard Boulevard, across from Hoggard High School, we took the right as the road became a four lane. I gunned it and moved to pass Billy. We were on a curve with a medium between us and the opposing traffic. The curve limited my sight. Soon, a car in the wrong lane was coming straight toward me. I swung over, trusting I was ahead of Billy. I barely missed the approaching car. Thankfully Billy, sensing the danger, hit his brakes. Billy later said that Thomas screamed something about me dying and grabbed his arms while he was trying to slow down and move onto the shoulder to give me room. Certainly, had I hit this car head-on, I probably wouldn’t have walked away.

I remember going with Tom to a meeting for Ford volunteers that fall. The county chairperson, some big-shot doctor in town, kept calling on Thomas thinking he had a question whenever he twitched his head. Finally, the doctor asked him what was wrong. Tom said he was okay, but I knew the question hurt him. When I told my mother about this exchange, she was furious. “That man is a doctor; he should have know that Tom has a medical condition and not have shamed him.” Sadly, at the time, none of us knew the severity of his condition.  

I don’t know if Tom ever got his driver licenses. He either rode his bicycle or his older brothers gave him a lift. The two of us discussed taking our bikes up to the Outer Banks and riding and camping along the beach, but sadly we never got around to it. Leaving his funeral, I felt a tinge of guilt for not working harder to have made it happen. 

After the funeral, one of his brothers confided in me that Tom’s twitches were a part of his condition which led to his brain tumor. He knew that anytime such a tumor, such as the one that claimed his life, was a possibility. But Tom never sought pity; he just wanted to be included as one of us. I look back over these 47 years and think of all that he missed, and yet I’m glad to have had a few years of friendship with him. 

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Sadly, I have no photos of Tom. One day I will check out New Hanover High School yearbooks for 1974-1976 and see if I can find a photo.

The Administration building at UNCW
University of North Carolina at Wilmington
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Examine Yourself

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
November 19, 2023
2 Corinthians 13

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, November 17, 2023

At the beginning of worship:

When I was in school, I hated tests. I wasn’t alone, was I? But being tested allows us to see our progress and can help us do better. I prefer the tests we grade ourselves, for it showed where I need to work harder. But I also know, when taking such a test, that sooner or later, there’ll be a big test. That’s the one that counts toward the final grade.

While we, as Christians, are saved by God through Jesus Christ, we are also called to test ourselves to ensure that we’re becoming more Christ-like in our lives. And while such tests help us improve, the real goal is to be ready when we stand for the big test, the final judgment. 

We’re going to talk about testing ourselves today. And when the day arrives, hopefully we’ll all be ready. After all, we have Jesus on our side. 

Before reading the Scripture: 

Our text last week ended with Paul concerned about his upcoming visit to Corinth. He fretted over the prospect of having to confront the Corinthians on sins they tolerate. Some of these sins were social, involving the church at large, such as quarrelling, jealously and gossip. We tend to forget that such sins are dangerous, don’t we. But they destroy relationships, which is what the church is about. Other sins were more individualist such as sexual immortality. 

In today’s reading, as Paul comes to the end of this letter, he acknowledges his willingness to handle this situation. However, he would prefer the Corinthians to take care of the situation themselves and not involve him, an outsider. Paul then closes the letter with one of his most beautiful benedictions among those in his letters. 

Read 2 Corinthians 13

Our reading this morning begins with Paul on a serious note. It’s the equivalent of my mom saying, “You just wait till your dad gets home.” As I’ve said all along, this letter was to prepare for Paul’s visit to Corinth. This chapter begins with Paul repeating the idea of his third visit to Corinth.[1]

Paul quickly follows his travel information with a reminder of the Hebrew requirement for witnesses. To accuse someone was serious business. Capital punishment required at least two and perhaps three witnesses. And if the witnesses falsely brought charges, they stood under the same punishment as the accused.[2]

On a side note, I dislike the idea of the death penalty. However, those who call for capital punishment based on a Biblical precedent, I find it odd how they seem to forget the seriousness of perjury was in the Old Testament. If a witness (or a prosecutor or police officer) withheld or fabricated facts to obtain a conviction, according to the Bible, they’d stand under the same sentence as the accused. 

But Paul, here, isn’t dealing with capital sins. Those types of punishment aren’t even in question. After all, the church didn’t have such power to carry out such punishment. That power only belonged to Rome. Instead, Paul uses the idea of witnesses in a different manner. He’s given the Corinthians three warnings (from his previous letters and visits). If they haven’t cleaned up their act by the time he arrives, he’s not going to go easy on the church in Corinth. 

As he has done throughout this letter, Paul finds himself on defense. The Corinthians seem to desire proof that Christ speaks through him. Paul reminds them that while Christ works in weakness, as seen at the cross, Christ now lives in power. This is a power Christ has inferred on the church. Paul might appear weak, but he has the power of God.  

In verse 5, Paul switches from the Corinthians quest to see if Paul speaks for Christ, to them searching out themselves for Christ’s presence. “Examine yourself,” he commands, “to see if you are living in the faith.” Paul challenges the Corinthians to make sure they pass the test. Interestingly, in verse 7, Paul appears to take some responsibility if they fail. 

We’ve seen all along, Paul’s personally investment in the Corinthian church. He wants them to succeed and would personally accept some of the blame if they fail. By encouraging such an examination of their life in Christ, Paul sets them up to be restored in Christ. Paul hopes that before he visits, the Corinthians will be on track, and he won’t have to “be severe” in using the authority that the Lord has given him. Again, as we’ve heard earlier, Paul again repeats his desire is to build up and not tear down.[3]

Paul then brings his letter to a close. “Finally,” he says. We can almost sense Paul taking a deep breath and mumbling, “I’m done.” After all, 2nd Corinthians is his third longest work, behind Romans and 1st Corinthians. Paul continues. “Be restored, listen to my appeal; agree with one another; live in peace; and the God of peace will be with you.”

This part expresses Paul’s hope for the Corinthians and their life together.

He continues, encouraging them to greet one another with a “holy kiss.” Our culture tends to reserve kissing for romantic settings or between parents and babies. But in much of the world, including the Mediterranean region, kissing was a common way to greet one another. This would be a kiss on the cheek or the shoulder, not on the lips. Such a kiss indicated there was a bond between the two. It was a way to acknowledge kindship and familiarity. And Paul see’s it as fitting for the Corinthians to greet one another in this matter. It shows they, in Christ, are a part of the same family.

Finally, Paul ends with a trinitarian benediction. While the doctrine of the Trinity, as we know it, came later, Paul certainly understands the necessity for all the persons of the Trinity—God’s Son our Lord, God the Father and Creator, and the Holy Spirit—to be present in our Christian lives.

What happened during Paul’s third visit to the Corinthians? We don’t know. Luke tells us in Acts, that on Paul’s final visit to Greece, he spent three months there before moving on to Macedonia.[4] We can assume that at least some if not most of this time was spent in Corinth.  We also know the Corinthians participated in the offering for the Jerusalem saints, which Paul focused on in the 8th and 9th chapters.[5] So it appears this letter was at least partially successful. But that’s in the past. What impact does Paul’s 2nd Epistle to the Corinthians have on us? 

Over the past 20 sermons, we have observed Paul’s struggles along with the hope he has in Jesus Christ. We have seen Paul’s seriousness and (as with the “Fools Speech”) his playfulness. Paul actions reminds us that there are times for correction and times for grace. We have learned about gratitude and knowing who truly owns the world. And we have observed how he places his trust in Jesus Christ. I have enjoyed spending much time in the study of this letter, and I hope you have benefited from my work. 

Paul wraps up his letter with this last section. We should take seriously Paul’s command for the Corinthians to examine themselves. Examination is a part of being a Christian. Last Fall and Spring, those who participated in Stan Ott’s workshops learned a way for us to examine ourselves at the end of the day, as we pray. We look back over our day and recall places where we could have done better and confess our sin. We also are reminded of times God showed up or we had a new experience with the divine, along with other blessings. For these, we give thanks. 

Being a Christian, following Jesus, isn’t just a prayer and you’re done. It’s constantly striving to live more like Jesus in our lives. And even the best of the saints, like Paul, struggle. So, examine yourself and give thanks for God’s grace. Amen. 

Commentaries consulted:
Barnett, Paul, The Second Epistle to the Corinthians, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997. 
Barrett, C. K., A Commentary on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, 1973, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, Publishing, 1987. 
Best, Ernest, Second Corinthians: Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1984.

[1] Paul had just said this in 2 Corinthians 12:14. 

[2] Deuteronomy 19:15-19. 

[3] 2 Corinthians 10:8 and 12:9. 

[4] Acts 20:2-3. 

[5] See Romans 15:26, where Paul speaks of the gifts from Achaia, of which Corinth was the leading city. 

Sunset photo taken last week
The end of the day is the perfect time to examine oneself…
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Two Book by C. Lee McKenzie

Title Slide with book covers

C. Lee McKenzie, Rattlesnake

Book cover for Rattlesnake

(I read an advance PDF copy) 

Allie and Jonah, a brother and sister from New Hampshire, along with their aunt, find themselves in Rattlesnake, Nevada. It’s an old mining town. Having inherited a house and mine from an uncle, they move with the hopes of rebuilding their lives. Allie and Jonah, whose mother died, and father has disappeared, struggle in their new school. Their aunt attempts to find employment while working on the inhabitable house which also appears to be haunted. The town itself seems to conspire against them. Jonah falls for a girl named Juliet. Unfortunately, she is attached to a bully named Snake. Another boy named Galvin befriends Jonah and the two make the basketball team. Galvin is also interested in Allie. 

As Jonah attempts to get revenge on Snake, something goes wrong. Allie and Jonah find themselves transported back into time, where they meet Catherine, the ghost in their home. She, too, is from a family without a mom. Her father is accused of murder and hanged. To save her father’s name and reputation, she needs Jonah’s help. Without giving away the details, things work out. 

While I am never been drawn to ghost stories, I enjoyed this book. Of course, I couldn’t help to draw parallels between Jonah and Allie’s new home in Rattlesnake and my own experience in Virginia City, Nevada. A few things were too similar. Rattlesnake had a Bucket of Venom Saloon while Virginia City has a Bucket of Blood. Both communities in history had Chinese sections which provided firewood and vegetables among other things.

Allie and Jonah move into Rattlesnake toward the end of summer, the same time I moved to Virginia City. McKenzie capture many of the experiences I had, such as the sun slipping behind the mountain earlier and the coming cold weather that happens in the desert mountains. Although I didn’t have a ghost muse named Catherine to draw me into an interest in history, I became obsessed with the community. In my last few months in Virginia City, about once a week I’d spent an afternoon in the Nevada Historical Society achieves at the University of Nevada, Reno. Later, I would write a dissertation on the community. 

I recommend this book to middle school and high school age young adults. The book points out the danger of bullying, and of not speaking up for what is right. Hopefully, the reader will learn there are noble things we should do, if we can, to make things right.

The author provided me a copy of the book before publication for an honest review. This is the fourth book I’ve read by McKenzie. I appreciate how she addresses issues faced by our youth. However, this is the first “ghost story” I’ve read by her. In this blog, I reviewed Not Guilty and Shattered.

Links to my own posts about my time in Virginia City: 

Sunday afternoon drive to Gerlach 

Arriving in Virginia City 

David Henry Palmer arrives in Virginia City, 1863

Doug and Elvira

Matt and Virginia City

Riding in the cab of a locomotive on the V&T

Christmas Eve, 1988

C. Lee McKenzie, Sliding on the Edge 

Book cover for "Sliding on the Edge"

(Westside Books, 2009).  I read this on my iPad using a Kindle app.

Shawna is a tough sixteen-year-old, at least on the outside. She can survive the streets of Las Vegas and the abusive boyfriends of her narcissistic mother. When her mother flees town with her newest lover, on the day the rent is due, Shawna wakes to a bus ticket, a $100 bill, and a note to go to her grandmother’s home in Central California. There, she will be where her mother can find her when she gets her life back together. 

Having never met her grandmother, Shawna reluctantly decides to take the trip. Having been disappointed all her life, Shawna has developed a protective façade that pushes others away. In a similar way, her grandmother Kay also has a habit of pushing people away. The two leading characters in the story have sad memories that each must deal with. But Shawna issues are deeper. Having pushed everyone away, she deals with her deep pain by giving into the “Monster” and cutting herself with a razor blade.  Shawna and Kay need the other.  Kay, by taking care of Shawna, can finally put aside the tragedies of her past as Shawna, with the help of her grandmother and an old horse, learns to trust. The book is told from the point-of-view of both characters: Kay and Shawna.  

I found myself deeply pained by the events of Shawna’s past. No child should ever have to deal with a mother who used her daughter in her schemes to obtain what she wanted in life. As we read the stories, we learn the two had worked together as petty criminals on the streets of Vegas. Moving to Central California, where she surprises her grandmother, Shawna finds herself in a strange new world. This is the world of horse farms and high schools where girls have sleepovers. It takes a lot of patience but by the end of the book, after she realizes she doesn’t want to go back to her mother, things are looking up for Shawna.  

I have often enjoyed the young adult works, especially the works of Gary Paulsen and Gary Schmidt. However, they write stories about teenage boys. Reading about a teenage girl, in a book written for girls is a little different. I was curious to learn what goes on in someone’s mind that causes them to cut themselves. As a book of fiction, this is not a handbook about the practice and how to stop it. But I can see how one can come so jaded about life that they resort to such drastic measures to battle the pain. 

This review appeared in another blog of mine in 2016.