There is a time for waiting and watching and wondering, but this is not it. Epiphany is a time to focus, and to follow the star, wherever it leads.

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
   The Epiphany of Our Lord
   Texts: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72: 1-7, 10-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2: 1-12

Grace and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

When was the last time you set out on a journey, with only a star—a single star—for your guide? When I am going somewhere, I typically want to know where I am supposed to go, how I’m going to get there, and what I should do once I’ve arrived. Failing that, I would at least like an address that I can plug into my GPS. When it comes to following what God has planned for my life, I have often asked God to put a big neon sign in the sky, laying out all the details of the path ahead. The idea of following a star sounds, quite frankly, a little crazy, even terrifying. If the wise men had tried to talk me into joining them, they would have had a hard time getting me out the door!

The wise men, however, seem to have taken their mysterious journey in stride. They were likely astrologers, so it was probably not such a strange thing for them to follow the guidance of the star. They may in fact have roamed often in response to what the skies told them. We don’t know where they were coming from, beyond the general statement “from the East.” We don’t know if they knew each other, or if they were strangers who met following the same star. This journey seems to be exceptional, somehow, even if they were accustomed to star gazing. There is nothing to indicate that the wise men themselves were Jewish, and yet, they travelled for days seeking the king of the Jews, so they could honor him. When the star disappeared, they stopped to ask directions, and continued onward. The wise men followed all of this, seemingly without question. Nothing else seemed to matter.

From the start, looking at it logically, nothing about this journey makes any sense. A star that shines and then disappears, about which they have only partial information. A king with ego issues and ulterior motives. The words of scribes and chief priests who serve the king. The star again. And finally, a dream. No GPS, no map, and truth be told, when they set out the wise men didn’t even know where they were going! Not exactly a pre-planned journey, although it certainly had a focus. Nothing mattered but following the star, going wherever it led them.

What was it about this child, this star, that motivated the wise men to travel such a distance, with almost no information? Why were the wise men so committed to finding Jesus, the baby who would be king of the Jews, that they set out on this incredible journey, and persisted in following the star despite the challenges, until they found him with his mother and father in Bethlehem? What was it they were really seeking?

The promise of this baby born in Bethlehem was not simply a continuation of the house of David, although he was that. He was a king, but he was not an ordinary king. He was not only salvation for the people of Israel, although he did come to save us. More than all of these things, the wise men were seeking the one who would be, as Isaiah describes, a light for all nations, a light that will guide exiles home. The psalmist tells us that this baby who will be king will bring justice for all who are poor. He will deliver those who are oppressed, have pity on those who are weak, redeem those caught in violence. In light of this promise, nothing else mattered, but following the star.

Following the star is no simple task. For one thing, a star is not exactly a neon sign. It is so easy to get distracted from the journey. If we don’t get wrapped up in the details of the end of the journey—where we are going, how we will get there, what we will do when we arrive—there are many other things all around us that clamor for our attention. The constant ping of notifications on laptops, smartphones, iPads, and tablets. Striving for success and approval, as defined by the world around us. Voices that tell us, constantly, that where and who we are is not enough, we have to keep climbing. The busyness of schedules so full that there is no time for gazing at stars, and following the star is out of the question.

Following the star is not easy, but if we take a moment to think about what the star means, we know, just as the wise men did, that nothing else matters. We live in a broken world that is in desperate need of light, mercy, justice, and redemption. We need the God who has come to us in Jesus, who will bring us home, show us what is really important. We need the God who stands with those who are most impacted by poverty, oppression, and violence, and who calls us to make that our priority, above anything else. We need the God who reminds us that if one person among us is suffering, we all suffer. Nothing else matters. We need to follow the star.

God is with us on this journey, and gives us the courage and faith to take it, but God does not follow the star for us. That is our job. There is a time for waiting and watching and wondering, but this is not it. Epiphany is a time to focus, and to follow the star, wherever it leads. Each time we take an action to bring light to the dark places in our world, we are claiming the promise of the one who set the star in the sky to guide us. When we walk the road with someone who is in pain, we open our hearts to the God who promises healing, and forgiveness. When we share the abundance of this world with a neighbor, we are following the star to Jesus, whose mercy will bring a day when no one will go without. When we stand against oppression, and are willing to change so that oppressive systems fall even if it’s not convenient for us, we are proclaiming that there is room on the road for everyone. The wise men knew, and we know, that the star leads to hope not just for some, but for all.

We don’t know where the star will lead us, or how we will get there. On our own, we would never find our way. Following the star is about believing in the promise of God and stepping into the promise, knowing that God is always faithful. It means that, no matter what else we do, or what might call for our attention, there is nothing more important than taking the next step toward the star.

I still don’t know if I would have gone with the wise men, if they had invited me to follow the star with them, but I hope I would have. Because the star, as hard as it may be for us as human beings to keep track of, and as scary as the unknown journey might be, reminds us that God has always been faithful, and always will be faithful, to God’s promises. It is also a reminder that we are not in charge of the journey. We are followers, ones who trust in God, who has never failed. We know the mercy, justice, healing, and love of God, and we respond by taking a step in the direction the star is leading us, not knowing where we will end up. Nothing else matters, as long as we follow the star.

Amen!

There is a time for waiting and watching and wondering, but this is not it. Epiphany is a time to focus, and to follow the star, wherever it leads.

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
   The Epiphany of Our Lord
   Texts: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72: 1-7, 10-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2: 1-12

Grace and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

When was the last time you set out on a journey, with only a star—a single star—for your guide? When I am going somewhere, I typically want to know where I am supposed to go, how I’m going to get there, and what I should do once I’ve arrived. Failing that, I would at least like an address that I can plug into my GPS. When it comes to following what God has planned for my life, I have often asked God to put a big neon sign in the sky, laying out all the details of the path ahead. The idea of following a star sounds, quite frankly, a little crazy, even terrifying. If the wise men had tried to talk me into joining them, they would have had a hard time getting me out the door!

The wise men, however, seem to have taken their mysterious journey in stride. They were likely astrologers, so it was probably not such a strange thing for them to follow the guidance of the star. They may in fact have roamed often in response to what the skies told them. We don’t know where they were coming from, beyond the general statement “from the East.” We don’t know if they knew each other, or if they were strangers who met following the same star. This journey seems to be exceptional, somehow, even if they were accustomed to star gazing. There is nothing to indicate that the wise men themselves were Jewish, and yet, they travelled for days seeking the king of the Jews, so they could honor him. When the star disappeared, they stopped to ask directions, and continued onward. The wise men followed all of this, seemingly without question. Nothing else seemed to matter.

From the start, looking at it logically, nothing about this journey makes any sense. A star that shines and then disappears, about which they have only partial information. A king with ego issues and ulterior motives. The words of scribes and chief priests who serve the king. The star again. And finally, a dream. No GPS, no map, and truth be told, when they set out the wise men didn’t even know where they were going! Not exactly a pre-planned journey, although it certainly had a focus. Nothing mattered but following the star, going wherever it led them.

What was it about this child, this star, that motivated the wise men to travel such a distance, with almost no information? Why were the wise men so committed to finding Jesus, the baby who would be king of the Jews, that they set out on this incredible journey, and persisted in following the star despite the challenges, until they found him with his mother and father in Bethlehem? What was it they were really seeking?

The promise of this baby born in Bethlehem was not simply a continuation of the house of David, although he was that. He was a king, but he was not an ordinary king. He was not only salvation for the people of Israel, although he did come to save us. More than all of these things, the wise men were seeking the one who would be, as Isaiah describes, a light for all nations, a light that will guide exiles home. The psalmist tells us that this baby who will be king will bring justice for all who are poor. He will deliver those who are oppressed, have pity on those who are weak, redeem those caught in violence. In light of this promise, nothing else mattered, but following the star.

Following the star is no simple task. For one thing, a star is not exactly a neon sign. It is so easy to get distracted from the journey. If we don’t get wrapped up in the details of the end of the journey—where we are going, how we will get there, what we will do when we arrive—there are many other things all around us that clamor for our attention. The constant ping of notifications on laptops, smartphones, iPads, and tablets. Striving for success and approval, as defined by the world around us. Voices that tell us, constantly, that where and who we are is not enough, we have to keep climbing. The busyness of schedules so full that there is no time for gazing at stars, and following the star is out of the question.

Following the star is not easy, but if we take a moment to think about what the star means, we know, just as the wise men did, that nothing else matters. We live in a broken world that is in desperate need of light, mercy, justice, and redemption. We need the God who has come to us in Jesus, who will bring us home, show us what is really important. We need the God who stands with those who are most impacted by poverty, oppression, and violence, and who calls us to make that our priority, above anything else. We need the God who reminds us that if one person among us is suffering, we all suffer. Nothing else matters. We need to follow the star.

God is with us on this journey, and gives us the courage and faith to take it, but God does not follow the star for us. That is our job. There is a time for waiting and watching and wondering, but this is not it. Epiphany is a time to focus, and to follow the star, wherever it leads. Each time we take an action to bring light to the dark places in our world, we are claiming the promise of the one who set the star in the sky to guide us. When we walk the road with someone who is in pain, we open our hearts to the God who promises healing, and forgiveness. When we share the abundance of this world with a neighbor, we are following the star to Jesus, whose mercy will bring a day when no one will go without. When we stand against oppression, and are willing to change so that oppressive systems fall even if it’s not convenient for us, we are proclaiming that there is room on the road for everyone. The wise men knew, and we know, that the star leads to hope not just for some, but for all.

We don’t know where the star will lead us, or how we will get there. On our own, we would never find our way. Following the star is about believing in the promise of God and stepping into the promise, knowing that God is always faithful. It means that, no matter what else we do, or what might call for our attention, there is nothing more important than taking the next step toward the star.

I still don’t know if I would have gone with the wise men, if they had invited me to follow the star with them, but I hope I would have. Because the star, as hard as it may be for us as human beings to keep track of, and as scary as the unknown journey might be, reminds us that God has always been faithful, and always will be faithful, to God’s promises. It is also a reminder that we are not in charge of the journey. We are followers, ones who trust in God, who has never failed. We know the mercy, justice, healing, and love of God, and we respond by taking a step in the direction the star is leading us, not knowing where we will end up. Nothing else matters, as long as we follow the star.

Amen!

God comes to us as one of us, revealing the heart of God, light in darkness, and now transforms us to do the same for the healing and restoring of the whole world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
   The Second Sunday of Christmas
   text:  John 1:10-18

Sisters and brothers in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

This was the only way it was going to work.

The problem of a world filled with pain and evil was never only a human problem.  The God who made this world has always been in pain over what we have done with it.  We have taken God’s great creation and made a disaster.  We’ve taken God’s great gift and turned it to harm against each other.  This world is not what it was created to be, and that has always angered God, saddened God, our ancestors in faith have testified.  It angers us, saddens us, too.

The question is what, if anything, is God doing.  When we see the evil people do, knowing this is not what God wants, we wonder what God’s answer is.  When we see people struggle to survive, that global problems of hunger and poverty place the majority of the world’s people in a life that barely clings to existence, we wonder what God is doing about this.  When we see the problems that beg for answers, our first thought is: what about God?

John the Evangelist says God in fact is doing something, the only thing that can deal with all of this mess, all of this brokenness, and bring it to healing, without also destroying us all and starting over.  God is doing the only thing that would work.  Are we willing to see, wise enough to listen?

It will take that, because we don’t seem to be looking for what God is doing.

Maybe because it’s about God changing us, changing people, to be a part of the needed healing and cleansing and restoring.  This always seems to surprise us.

When you imagine God solving the problem of world hunger, what do you imagine?  A miraculous intervention changing all the deserts into fertile land?  A power move overturning corrupt governments that deprive their people of needed resources?

When you imagine God stopping evil in this world, what do you imagine?  God intervening with power and might in every terrorist act?  God destroying those who live their lives to harm others?

The problem with expecting God to fix things apart from us is there really are no good answers on that path.  In the Great Flood God learned that destroying humanity didn’t solve the problem of evil.  It only caused a lot of death.  From there God had to make a new plan.

We’re still trying to catch up to that plan.

John says we’ve had this problem from the start.

This Word among us, John says, who made all things, came to his own, to the very people he had made, to us, and we didn’t know him.  We didn’t accept him.

From the beginning of John’s Gospel we see the problem: God’s answer, to come in person, is not the answer we’re looking for.  It’s not the magic solution, no-work, instant fix we secretly seem to expect God ought to do.

So God walks among us and we don’t see.  God’s plans to change the world have begun and we’re missing them.  If we look, though, we’ll see a wonder.

God’s way shows us the true heart of God.

This Son of God, John says, gives us what we only guessed at before: inside knowledge of God’s true heart for the world.  “No one has ever seen God.  It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.”

With Jesus the world no longer needs to speculate as to the nature of God, the heart of God.  We never have to look at a natural disaster again and wonder, “was God angry with these people?”  We never have to face a tragedy of evil and ask if it was punishment from God.  The Son reveals to us the heart of the Triune God, and the heart of the Triune God is and always will be love.

God’s coming to be with us was the only certain way we could know this heart of God.  Not in thunder from a mountain or massive acts of nature or in miracles; those could always be misinterpreted.  In person, God could talk to us, model for us, show us true life.

God’s answer for the pain of this world is and always will be love, in person.

God’s way is therefore the only way that really is light in darkness.

This is a world in darkness, but God’s light has come and cannot be stopped.

It’s not always evident that this is true.  When the Son of God first came into this world, the darkness resisted mightily.  But the suffering and death of our Lord Jesus wasn’t a tragic mistake or something that the Father somehow overlooked in the plan.

It was the plan.  Coming in person not only revealed God’s heart as love, it showed the power of God as loss, the might of God as self-giving.  Rather than fight the darkness of this world by destruction and force, God’s plan was to enter it and transform it from within.  That’s why we struggle to see this, understand this.  We are addicted to wanting power solutions, flashy miracles.

But God said, “I’ll open myself up to the darkness and it will do all it can to me, and light will still win.”  That’s the plan, and in Jesus’ resurrection we see just how that plan is working.  When God doesn’t fight evil but stands in its way on our behalf, stands even in our way as we make evil, God brings a light that darkness cannot overcome.

This was the only way that was going to work.  We need to learn this.  Because the next part of the plan is where we get stuck.

You see, the plan was never to stop with just Jesus.  It was to begin to change the world through those who joined with the Son of God.

To those who believe in him, those who saw what God was truly doing in Jesus, John says, the Son of God gives power to become children of God themselves.

That’s the plan.  The whole deal.  God’s solution to everything that ails this planet, everything we wish God would fix, everything wicked and ruined and oppressive.  God will bring healing through us, through God’s children, across this globe.

It’s genius.  We are changed into children of God; so we, like Jesus, bear God’s heart in the world.  We, like Jesus, become people who are always love, all the time.  We, like Jesus, become people who stand as light in darkness not with power but with a willingness to lose.

Do you see how brilliant God is?  The problem with this world was never something God could separate from the problem with people, the problem with us.  Any solution of power, even with divine power able to create universes, couldn’t fix God’s greatest pain about this world: the hearts of God’s children were cold and selfish, the root of all that is wrong in this world.

Change the hearts and you’ve got something, God thought.  Changed people, which is the primary hope.  And then a changed world, because these people are going to go out there and make a new creation with God’s Spirit giving them grace to do it.

This was the only way that would work.  It’s time we saw that and rejoiced.

This coming of this child in Bethlehem we celebrate was the beginning of God’s massive attempt to reconnect with us and all people to heal and restore all things.  The changing of our hearts, and of the hearts of the people of this world, is the only way the Triune God is able and willing to change this world.

No one has ever seen God.  But the Son of God has made the Father’s heart known to us.  Now we, children of God ourselves, get to show that same heart to the world, and see God’s healing begin.

Joy to the world indeed.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

God comes to us as one of us, revealing the heart of God, light in darkness, and now transforms us to do the same for the healing and restoring of the whole world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
   The Second Sunday of Christmas
   text:  John 1:10-18

Sisters and brothers in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

This was the only way it was going to work.

The problem of a world filled with pain and evil was never only a human problem.  The God who made this world has always been in pain over what we have done with it.  We have taken God’s great creation and made a disaster.  We’ve taken God’s great gift and turned it to harm against each other.  This world is not what it was created to be, and that has always angered God, saddened God, our ancestors in faith have testified.  It angers us, saddens us, too.

The question is what, if anything, is God doing.  When we see the evil people do, knowing this is not what God wants, we wonder what God’s answer is.  When we see people struggle to survive, that global problems of hunger and poverty place the majority of the world’s people in a life that barely clings to existence, we wonder what God is doing about this.  When we see the problems that beg for answers, our first thought is: what about God?

John the Evangelist says God in fact is doing something, the only thing that can deal with all of this mess, all of this brokenness, and bring it to healing, without also destroying us all and starting over.  God is doing the only thing that would work.  Are we willing to see, wise enough to listen?

It will take that, because we don’t seem to be looking for what God is doing.

Maybe because it’s about God changing us, changing people, to be a part of the needed healing and cleansing and restoring.  This always seems to surprise us.

When you imagine God solving the problem of world hunger, what do you imagine?  A miraculous intervention changing all the deserts into fertile land?  A power move overturning corrupt governments that deprive their people of needed resources?

When you imagine God stopping evil in this world, what do you imagine?  God intervening with power and might in every terrorist act?  God destroying those who live their lives to harm others?

The problem with expecting God to fix things apart from us is there really are no good answers on that path.  In the Great Flood God learned that destroying humanity didn’t solve the problem of evil.  It only caused a lot of death.  From there God had to make a new plan.

We’re still trying to catch up to that plan.

John says we’ve had this problem from the start.

This Word among us, John says, who made all things, came to his own, to the very people he had made, to us, and we didn’t know him.  We didn’t accept him.

From the beginning of John’s Gospel we see the problem: God’s answer, to come in person, is not the answer we’re looking for.  It’s not the magic solution, no-work, instant fix we secretly seem to expect God ought to do.

So God walks among us and we don’t see.  God’s plans to change the world have begun and we’re missing them.  If we look, though, we’ll see a wonder.

God’s way shows us the true heart of God.

This Son of God, John says, gives us what we only guessed at before: inside knowledge of God’s true heart for the world.  “No one has ever seen God.  It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.”

With Jesus the world no longer needs to speculate as to the nature of God, the heart of God.  We never have to look at a natural disaster again and wonder, “was God angry with these people?”  We never have to face a tragedy of evil and ask if it was punishment from God.  The Son reveals to us the heart of the Triune God, and the heart of the Triune God is and always will be love.

God’s coming to be with us was the only certain way we could know this heart of God.  Not in thunder from a mountain or massive acts of nature or in miracles; those could always be misinterpreted.  In person, God could talk to us, model for us, show us true life.

God’s answer for the pain of this world is and always will be love, in person.

God’s way is therefore the only way that really is light in darkness.

This is a world in darkness, but God’s light has come and cannot be stopped.

It’s not always evident that this is true.  When the Son of God first came into this world, the darkness resisted mightily.  But the suffering and death of our Lord Jesus wasn’t a tragic mistake or something that the Father somehow overlooked in the plan.

It was the plan.  Coming in person not only revealed God’s heart as love, it showed the power of God as loss, the might of God as self-giving.  Rather than fight the darkness of this world by destruction and force, God’s plan was to enter it and transform it from within.  That’s why we struggle to see this, understand this.  We are addicted to wanting power solutions, flashy miracles.

But God said, “I’ll open myself up to the darkness and it will do all it can to me, and light will still win.”  That’s the plan, and in Jesus’ resurrection we see just how that plan is working.  When God doesn’t fight evil but stands in its way on our behalf, stands even in our way as we make evil, God brings a light that darkness cannot overcome.

This was the only way that was going to work.  We need to learn this.  Because the next part of the plan is where we get stuck.

You see, the plan was never to stop with just Jesus.  It was to begin to change the world through those who joined with the Son of God.

To those who believe in him, those who saw what God was truly doing in Jesus, John says, the Son of God gives power to become children of God themselves.

That’s the plan.  The whole deal.  God’s solution to everything that ails this planet, everything we wish God would fix, everything wicked and ruined and oppressive.  God will bring healing through us, through God’s children, across this globe.

It’s genius.  We are changed into children of God; so we, like Jesus, bear God’s heart in the world.  We, like Jesus, become people who are always love, all the time.  We, like Jesus, become people who stand as light in darkness not with power but with a willingness to lose.

Do you see how brilliant God is?  The problem with this world was never something God could separate from the problem with people, the problem with us.  Any solution of power, even with divine power able to create universes, couldn’t fix God’s greatest pain about this world: the hearts of God’s children were cold and selfish, the root of all that is wrong in this world.

Change the hearts and you’ve got something, God thought.  Changed people, which is the primary hope.  And then a changed world, because these people are going to go out there and make a new creation with God’s Spirit giving them grace to do it.

This was the only way that would work.  It’s time we saw that and rejoiced.

This coming of this child in Bethlehem we celebrate was the beginning of God’s massive attempt to reconnect with us and all people to heal and restore all things.  The changing of our hearts, and of the hearts of the people of this world, is the only way the Triune God is able and willing to change this world.

No one has ever seen God.  But the Son of God has made the Father’s heart known to us.  Now we, children of God ourselves, get to show that same heart to the world, and see God’s healing begin.

Joy to the world indeed.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

When Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the temple and called him by name, they were making a commitment to Jesus, their community, and to God. God has called each of us by name, and God is in it with us for the long haul.

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
   The Name of Jesus
   Texts: Numbers 6:22-27, Psalm 8, Galatians 4:4-7, Luke 2:15-21

Grace and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

We all know about first days. The first day of a new job, the first day of being in love, the first day of sobriety or seeking help for mental illness, the first day of a diet and exercise plan, the first day of parenthood, the first day of New Year’s Resolutions. There is, along with fear and all of the other emotions that accompany these first days, a sense of newness, hope, energy, wonder. We know things are different; we are in the midst of the change. On the first day, we don’t know how things will look and feel in a week, or a year, or twenty years, and we may not even know if we will make it that far, but there is often a sense of readiness to take on the world, as though anything is possible. Although we know there will be challenges, on the first day we are not prepared for the inevitable ups and downs of the journey ahead. We are not yet settled in for the long haul.

A week ago, as we do every year, we celebrated a birth—a first day. And today, we gather on the first day of the New Year to celebrate the day on which this child was presented, circumcised, and named. This event feels very different from Christmas. Mary and Joseph, as they bring their son to the temple, are not in the first day anymore. They have heard the words of the angel Gabriel, and the words of the shepherds, telling them that their son is not just an ordinary child, but the Savior, the Messiah of the House of David, good news for all people, and Mary has been pondering these words, wondering what it means. She still doesn’t understand all that has been said, doesn’t know all that is to come, but as Mary and Joseph bring their son to the temple, they are making a commitment. As parents in this congregation do when they bring their child for baptism, Mary and Joseph are introducing their son to their faith, the traditions of their ancestors. They are presenting their child to their community of faith. They are publicly promising to raise their child to love and honor God. They are committing to be in it for the long haul. Mary and Joseph are calling their son by name: Jesus.

Whether to parenthood, marriage, friendship, recovery, the work God has called us to in the world, or those elusive New Year’s Resolutions, being committed for the long haul is not easy. It does not mean that we have everything “figured out,” that we know what it will look like down the road, or that we feel confident all the time about how we are living out that commitment. We may at times still feel as uncertain as we did on the first day. We may wonder why we ever made the commitment in the first place.

When we are committed for the long haul, we know the path will not be easy. Along with joy, love, fulfillment, and hope, there will be pain, uncertainty, fear, and doubt. Being committed, we accept all that is a part of this life to come. Mary and Joseph knew this, and knowing this, they brought their son to the temple, stood before their community, and called him by name: Jesus.

Being in it for the long haul is not something we can do on our own. It is a community affair. That is why Mary and Joseph went to the temple to present and call Jesus by name. It is why we celebrate baptism and marriage in the midst of worship, surrounded by our family, friends, and community of faith. When things get challenging, we face the unexpected, and we wonder if we can continue on the path, our community surrounds us, offering encouragement and hope, reminding us that commitment is not easy, and that we are not alone.

Even more important than community, being committed for the long haul is a commitment to God. Mary and Joseph, as they brought Jesus to the temple and called him by name, were following generations of faithful people who believed in God, and honored traditions that placed God in the center of their lives. As they presented Jesus in the temple, they were not only making a commitment to their son, and their community, but to the God of their fathers and mothers. They were promising to remain faithful to God, and to teach their son to be faithful also. And, as they called their son by name, Jesus, they were putting him in the care of the God who had always been faithful, trusting that God would love and guide Jesus as he had done for them.

As we start the New Year, the making of New Year’s resolutions has a “first day” feel to it, and we name goals for ourselves, with the best of intentions, that often fall by the wayside by Valentine’s Day. Today, we are invited to reflect on our relationships and commitments, and to remind ourselves and each other that we are in it for the long haul. We are called to consider what it means to us in this moment to be faithful to our friendships, our families, our vocations, and most importantly, to God.

And, on this day, as we share the story of Mary and Joseph bringing their son to the temple, calling Jesus by name, we recognize that they are honoring their commitment to a God who has never failed in commitment to them. To us. It is the faithfulness of God that makes commitment possible, for them and for us. When we know that God is in it for the long haul, we can trust God to guide us in all that we are called to, no matter what challenges and fears and doubts may present themselves. We can trust that, with God, anything is possible.

Like Jesus, we, too, have been called by name. God told Moses that Aaron and his sons were to proclaim to the people a very intimate blessing. The Lord keeps us. The face of God shines on us. God looks upon us with favor, and gives us peace. When we hear this blessing, we are reminded that we have been called children of God, and that God will never abandon us or forsake us. We have been named children of God. And God, the one who names us, is in it with us, for the long haul.

Thanks be to God!