Christmas Eve 2016

Luke 2:1-20

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own town to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid for see -I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was  with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

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In those days a decree went out to count all the people, to take a census, to make sure taxes were being properly collected, to keep track of who lived where, how concentrated was the Jewish population in which places, how many soldiers might be needed to keep the peace if the oppressed got it into their heads to protest how Rome was mistreating them. I know it's the way our Christmas story begins every year, but consider how often this year already we have heard history repeating itself, how many reminders of days some people still alive can remember: other times Jews were gathered together to be counted, even tattooed with numbers to keep track of them, or when Japanese Americans were taken from their homes to be collected all in one place so the rest of us could keep an eye on them, or the talk these days of creating a Muslim registry. Now the administration wants also to know who worked with Hilary Clinton on gender equality initiatives, and which scientists have studied and reported on climate change. Everybody gets counted, categorized, put into smaller and smaller boxes to be set against each other and controlled, so those in power can keep their power while the rest of us go hungry and blame each other. 

And yes, it's political. We’re starting a story about Christmas with a story about taxes and government control. This, my friends, is the world into which Jesus was born. And this isn't a conspiracy theory, it’s how power corrupts and fights to hold onto privilege. The people aren’t the problem, the inequality, the fear, the anxiety, the constant fight for worthiness, that’s the problem. Our story of creation begins with God saying that we are very good, and the rest of the downhill fall is that we don’t believe it. God tells us again and again that we are good enough, that we belong, that we are connected and seen and remembered and heard, and on the large and small scale we continue to discount that word, to disregard that promise of faithfulness, to expect the worst of ourselves and each other, until we come to utterly despair of humanity’s goodness. Even if it’s not we ourselves who we can’t imagine being good enough, we do it to one another every time we let insults fly and injuries go untended. It’s like we’ve gotten it into our heads that there isn’t enough love to go around and so we have to fight one another and prove ourselves better in order to get a corner on the acceptance market.

What complete and utter cow crap that is! And it’s precisely literal cow crap that Jesus was born surrounded by when Mary gave birth in that stable. Whether it was a barn or a cave doesn’t really matter for the point that Jesus wasn’t born someplace high and lofty and comfortable, but right in the middle of the census, when his people were being closely watched for conspiracy and threats of terrorism. Jesus was an undocumented migrant, living in a place that was overcrowded and unwelcoming. Today he would probably be deported, harassed, his mother targeted for sexual harassment and his father shamed as an aging contract worker. This is the world we have made.

But, this is also the world he chose freely to enter and to live in. For ever time we decide this world isn’t good enough, God chooses to live in it. For every time we decide that somebody else, for reason of color, nationality, language, gender, religion, class, or whatever, isn’t good enough, God chooses freely to be made manifest in those very people we have put on the margins. For every time we look in the mirror or look back on our lives and decide that, for whatever reason, we ourselves are not good enough, God comes to us in the flesh to say that, yes, being human is in fact good enough. Not only good enough, but that first word about us at creation was that we are very good.

So this Christmas, we may have any number of emotions around the holiday itself, around the current political climate, around our own so-called successes and failures, but the point of this Christmas is God showing us in the very flesh and blood, sweat and tears, of Jesus, that being human is in fact just as good as being God. God put down all divine power to be human, after all, and that is what we celebrate today. We are good enough. God said so at the beginning, and still continues to say so today, and if we can’t take God’s word for it, God will come to earth in our own very flesh, and live and die just like the rest of us, to prove to us that, yes, indeed, being human is holy, being human is a miracle, being human is immeasurably enough.

Which is hard enough to hear for ourselves, let alone to remember when strangers and neighbors and family members are complete jerks to us, or when people we have been taught to hate and fear turn out to bleed just like we do - because God’s Word came to be flesh in the most human and vulnerable way possible, in the skin of someone who has been ridiculed and hunted from day one. Shepherds knew what that was like, so shepherds were among the first to recognize him. Will we recognize God in our own flesh? In that of our Muslim neighbors? Our black neighbors? Our female neighbors? What will that do to the world when we can recognize divinity in the very dirt from which we were made and to which we will return? When our eyes are opened to the holiness all around us and within us?

Come and worship the One who has chosen to live in and among you. He is coming, always coming, and he is already here.

Sing!

Isaiah 35:1-10

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the LORD, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you.” Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes. A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it, but it shall be for God’s people; no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray. No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come upon it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

Magnificat, sung to the setting called "Canticle of the Turning," you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9QeTmRCpW4

James 5:7-10

Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. Beloved, do not grumble against one another so that you may not be judged. See, the Judge is standing at the doors! As an example of suffering and patience, beloved, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord.

Matthew 11:2-11

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written, ‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”

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Last week we heard John preaching fire. This week John has been arrested for that sermon and sits in prison, wondering if his work has been worthwhile. Everything he has spent his life preparing for is apparently unseen, uncertain, perhaps even a little unreal. Rome is still in control, pushing his people around, desecrating holy time and space with their military and cultural colonization. Religious leaders and institutions are still as corrupt as ever. And John has no idea if his work has made any difference at all, other than to make the people in power angry.

Seems a bit of an odd spot to be in this third Sunday of Advent. We light the pink candle and sing Mary’s Magnificat every year on this Sunday to mark it as a Sunday of joy, yet we have a story of John the Baptist sitting in prison, wondering if he had done the right thing by pointing to Jesus, or if he should have directed his life’s work toward another Messiah. Doesn’t sound very joyful to me. Sounds rather despairing, actually.

Which is why we connect this Gospel reading with the text from Isaiah. It’s why we spend Advent with this prophet in particular, whose story is told in three big parts across the history of God’s people being threatened with exile, living in exile, and returning from exile. Here in the 35th chapter of Isaiah, the prophet speaks to the experience of those who have been taken from their homes and forcibly moved to foreign lands. Their lives are dried up and sorrowful, feeling barren and under oppression. They are waiting for hope to appear, for a return to their homeland, for comfort and safety.

It’s a recurrent theme throughout scripture, of people under oppression waiting for salvation, hoping for peace, looking to be rescued by a savior sent from heaven. And John the Baptist thought the savior who would come with fire was appearing in the person of Jesus. Many people, still today, expect a great epic battle on earth to bring fire from heaven down on the heads of the oppressors and lift up the ones who've lived too long under both the boot of foreign armies and the guilt imposed by their own leaders. 

It’s also a recurrent theme today, isn’t it? People from many walks of life are feeling unheard, restricted, squashed, threatened, exiled, and erased. Whether it’s middle America struggling to figure out retirement and healthcare, women who aren’t taken seriously when they say ‘no,’ Native Americans who for generations have been lied to and abused and are still today having their rights stolen and ignored, Black men and women and children being assumed guilty at first sight, LGBTQ people being looked at as sexual freaks of nature, the poor being told they deserve their poverty, Muslims and refugees being automatically labeled as terrorists… it seems we will find any excuse to make one another ‘less than’ just to make ourselves feel better, stronger, more secure. This is *not* the way to the kingdom of God.

John the Baptist called us out on this behavior, and it got him killed. He fully expected Jesus the Messiah to come in like a raging fire and wipe the slate clean for a fresh start. We hear this hope in the song of Hannah, which Mary sang when the angel came to announce her pregnancy: “Let the king beware for your justice tears every tyrant from the throne. The hungry poor shall weep no more for the food they can never earn…” It’s a protest song, a rebellion song, out of the mouth of first a barren woman and then from a young girl pregnant outside of marriage.

Songs are the weapons of the oppressed. Remember the old spirituals that helped escaped slaves find their way north? Songs that reveal history and mock incompetent leaders. Songs that stick in the ear and move the heart. Songs that change minds and offer strength for standing up against injustice. Chants that spread across crowds at protests. And the song of Mary speaks to the hope that Jesus is, that Isaiah pointed to, that we still in many places long for today. The lame will leap like the deer, the deaf will hear, the voiceless will be heard again. John the Baptist wanted to know if Jesus was the Messiah, and Jesus responded with the witness of his ministry so far: look and see how the sick are healed, the poor hear good news, the clueless are made aware. The world is turning, the ones living underfoot are learning to stand up, the silenced are no longer keeping their heads down, the songs are still being sung, the hope is spreading.

We sing of joy this third Sunday of Advent because the oppressed and the oppressors are being made free. It’s a long and arduous process, to be sure. We are still living in it, for certain. But it is ongoing. The ones who refuse to hear are beginning to hear. The ones who refuse to see are beginning to see. The ones who have been silenced are having their voices projected all over the world. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at a God who loves the whole world, who declares all flesh is holy, who brings liberation to the captive and compassion to the hard of heart. When the oppressed rise up, and their dignity speaks to the dignity of all people, when the freedom of every person is recognized as tied up in the freedom of every person, when one group receives justice and sees to it that other groups also receive justice, when the hills and valleys of inequality are tumbled smooth into a direct pathway for homecoming, then we will truly recognize and know that the Messiah is among us. Then nothing will be able to silence our singing.

From tumbleweed to Rooted shoot

Isaiah 11:1-10

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD. His delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around this waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.

Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19

Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to the king’s son; that he may rule your people righteously and the poor with justice; that the mountains may bring prosperity to the people, and the hills, in righteousness. Let him defend the needy among the people, rescue the poor, and crush the oppressor. May he live as long as the sun and moon endure, from one generation to another. Let him come down like rain upon the mown field, like showers that water the earth. In his time may the righteous flourish; and let there be an abundance of peace till the moon shall be no more. Blessed are you, LORD God, the God of Israel; you alone do wondrous deeds! And blessed be your glorious name forever, and may all the earth be filled with your glory. Amen. Amen.

Romans 15:4-13

Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we may have hope. May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the circumcised on behalf of the truth of God in order that he might confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written, “Therefore I will confess you among the Gentiles, and sing praises to your name”; and again he says, “Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people”; and again, “Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles, and let all the peoples praise him”; and again Isaiah says, “The root of Jesse shall come, the one who rises to rule the Gentiles; in him the Gentiles shall hope.” May the God of hope will you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming fro baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

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Alright, then. John the Baptist pulls no punches. Here’s the deal, he proclaims: bear fruit worthy of repentance, or don’t bother pretending to repent. And if we can’t translate from Scripture what that looks like, imagine, if you will, the husband who beats his wife and every time cries apologies. Imagine, if you will, the drunk who spends every paycheck on beer and every night comes home broke and promising to do better next time. Imagine, if you will, the ones who claim to be women’s rights advocates who refuse to let women speak for themselves no matter how many times women tell them that what they are doing is actively harmful to women. Either repent, turn around, change the behavior and stop doing harm, or stop pretending to be right and righteous. John’s basic message is ‘stop pretending to want a better world if you’re not going to do anything different about it.’ People who heard that came to him in droves. They were tired of the oppression, tired of living like they were untouchable, tired of swimming in the accusations and condemnations of their community. At least, that’s why some of them came to him. Others thought it was another great way to check the boxes of righteous living, to earn their brownie points from whatever god might be paying attention, trying to polish up their public image a bit for their fans and for their detractors. It’s a great publicity ploy to show up with vocal support for this kind of righteous loner, but without any real commitment behind it, that showing up is just weaksauce, blown away by the latest breeze, like a tumbleweed.

But John, acting in the line of prophets, was clear about his message: take care of the downtrodden, look after the poor, stop the oppression of God’s people! And while initially that meant only the Jewish people, Paul writes in the letter to the Romans that Jesus has expanded that justice to include even the Gentiles. Even we who were once outsiders. Don’t forget we were not God’s original chosen people. We were not the ones promised a homeland. We were not the first love of God in this story. In fact, we often were the enemy, the conquering power, the “other” people. But as outsiders, we did have a different viewpoint on how lived actions lined up with or diverted from spoken confession of values and morals. This often is how it turns out, the ones on the margins shining the light on the way the masses are moving off course, just as John the Baptizer lived in that disjoined space between civilization and the wild places, wearing wild animal skins and eating those insects which typically devoured the crops in time of famine. John and his proclamation were abrasive at best, and especially so toward those in positions of power.

Because the Kingdom of Heaven come near is amazingly good news for some, and amazingly devastating news for others. But it is the same news, the same equalizing, the same leveling of the playing field. The root of Jesse, the source of the covenant between God and God’s people, the standard from which the Kingdom of God grows in our midst. It is digging deep down and holding on, as stubborn as anything, to break apart that rocky soil of dis-ease and disinterest so that new life can actually, finally, grow up from the rubble of our histories of destruction. The Jesse stump is not dead as once we thought, but thriving in the deep of the dark soil, working beneath the surface, getting at the heart and core of our illness and bringing out justice and equity from the disasters that threaten life at every turn. Rather than tumbleweed faith, John bears witness to the deeply rooted capacity of God to live in our world with active and intentional compassion. Rather than simply stopping by to be the last-minute hero who saves the day after most of the work has been done by those who lost their lives for the cause, John puts his life on the line, his livelihood, his reputation, his safety, for the sake of uprooting those false prophets who proclaim peace when there is no peace, who turn a blind eye whenever it suits their comfort. John is no tumbleweed, but even John only points to the truly steadfast root of Jesse. That Jesus who is coming is not only the deeply rooted covenant promise, but also the soil in which is grows, and the sun and rain which feed it.

As we prayed in the Psalm this morning: Defend the needy. Rescue the poor. Crush the oppressor. Yes, Lord, quickly come. We need this rescuing, and we need the courage to act alongside the God who works among us in uprooting injustice, so that true righteousness may flourish. John’s promise of a harvest come soon is good news, when the baptism of water for repentance is replaced with that baptism by fire that burns the chaff within us to reveal the heart of our worthiness, the core of our validation, the holiness that resides within each of God’s own people to live in that Kingdom way, where justice and equity are as common as bread and wine.

Then will our children be safe to play in the fields freely. Then salvation will be wholly recognized. Then we will know truly our connections in the order of things, when we learn to trust God’s care of the cosmos as though it is true and honest and good, as it was called in the beginning. Come, Emmanuel, God with us, root of Jesse. Come and restore our chaff-encased hearts to beat again with the compassion of your heart, broken open for the sake of the whole world.

Advent is...

Isaiah 2:1-5

The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.

In days to come the mountain of the LORD’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many people shall come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples’ they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!

Psalm 122

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD.” Now our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity with itself; to which the tribes go up, the tribes of the LORD, the assembly of Israel, to praise the name of the LORD. For there are the thrones of judgment, the thrones of the house of David. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: “May they prosper who love you. Peace be within your walls and quietness within your towers. For the sake of my kindred and companions, I pray for your prosperity. Because of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek to do you good.”

Romans 13:11-14

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

Matthew 24:36-44

Jesus said to the disciples, “About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

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Swords into ploughshares. Wouldn’t that be amazing. I was scrolling around the Internet this week and came across not only a story of Russia deciding to upgrade its military tanks, but more stories of violence at home, more Nazi language being used in this country, more death and fear and threats of deportation and a religion-based registry. And that’s before I even got to the ongoing stories of what’s happening at Standing Rock, which is escalating even still, even during this week where we celebrated Thanksgiving and dressed our children like pilgrims and Indians and called it ‘cute,’ forgetting the history of small pox and the trail of tears and the genocide. Swords into ploughshares, would we even know what to do if we weren’t fighting something, fighting somebody? Would we even know what to do if we woke up and saw the bigger picture and our part in it? What would our world look like if we didn’t make any more veterans because we didn’t make any more war? Do we know how to grieve our pain, or only how to fight? Have we forgotten how to plant, how to cultivate, how to live in peace?

Advent is a combination of end times and new beginnings. We would not be waiting and hoping for something new if we were happy and at peace with how things are. And I don’t just mean wishing we hadn’t eaten so much at the holiday and hoping to fit into those jeans again. I don’t just mean wishing my portfolio looked better. I mean an end to the murders of transgender people - there have been almost three hundred this year alone, and most are women of color who are misrepresented in their obituaries and the media reports. I mean an end to the need to work two or three full-time jobs to make basic ends meet. I mean being able to trust the water out of your tap is drinkable, being able to send your child off to school in the morning and trust they will make it home alive, being able to wear what makes you comfortable without being sexually harassed and assaulted. 

Advent is a time when we say we have had enough of this. We turn to God with fists raised in frustration and say ‘fix it!’ Because for far too long we have known that two may be working in a field and one will be taken, one will be left, and community will be broken by violence and deeper ‘us versus them’ divides. How many times we have decided not to talk politics with friends because we like to keep the peace, but those politics affect our daily living and the daily living of those friends, and that peace is more and more tenuous if we are too afraid of each other to engage in basic care for the world. I know we don’t tend to like conflict, but we’ve got to know how to handle it, because it’s all around us, and it’s inside us, too. How do we live without cutting ourselves into what pieces are allowed where, without hiding what’s important to us because we might not feel entirely accepted, without waking up one day feeling like we’ve missed something? That unexpected hour is a rude awakening at best. Some might call it a midlife crisis. Or a defining moment. Or a breaking point.

Advent is our community reaching a breaking point. It is waking up to what we ignore, wrestling honestly and intently with what we want the world to be and what it really is, with who we want to be and who we really are. Advent is calling on God to do something and getting our hands dirty doing something. If you’re pregnant and the baby is due any day now, you don’t wait until you’ve been discharged from the hospital to buy the crib and the car seat and the diapers and the onesies and the blankets and the bottles. We are building a world, with God or without God, and what we build isn’t just for us, it is for our neighbors and our children and for people we will never meet. What kind of world will God give us courage to build? Where nation shall not raise up against nation, where we won’t learn war any more?

Advent is calling on God’s promise of faithfulness to bring us to completion. It is overturning every rock and fallen log looking for that presence of divinity that throbs in our veins. Because Advent hope is not just going on with business as usual and expecting to wake up one morning in heaven. Advent hope is planting a tree when it seems the world is ending. Advent is turning swords into plough shares, caring for land that we have historically covered in blood, uprooting injustice and seeing what crops God will plant among us. Advent is liberation, and it is for the whole of the world. This is the season we are in, the time at hand, the passion of a God who is so invested in our healing that She took on flesh and blood for our sake, in order to live and die just like the rest of us. So let us use wisely the time that we have, trusting in that compassion to hold us together in times it feels the world might fall apart, and to spur us forward in times when we can’t see which way to go.

Paradise is possible

Christ the King

Jeremiah 23:1-6

Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! says the LORD. Therefore thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. So I will attend to you for your evil doings, says the LORD. Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the LORD. The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. And this is the name by which he will be called: “The LORD is our righteousness.”

Colossians 1:11-20

May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers - all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn of the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Luke 23:33-43

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right, and one on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do now know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said to Jesus, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

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What is 'paradise'? When you hear Jesus tell the condemned about being together in paradise, what do you imagine? Do you visualize a great open field, or a bustling city? Maybe a great big Thanksgiving table where you are surrounded by loved ones, or a sunny day at a baseball game? What's your image of paradise? Where does it come from? What does it feel like? Is it different now than it once was? Does it depend on where you are, what you hope for?

What do you think paradise was for that other man on the cross? Perhaps a return to simpler times was not a thought he could comprehend, on account of growing up under the oppression of Rome. Always expecting to be chased or killed, to be erased and spat upon, living as a perpetual outcast, I'd imagine this particular man probably envisioned paradise far more differently than you or I. Probably he looked at paradise in more the way that a Syrian refugee might envision salvation. Or somebody who has survived so-called 'conversion therapy.' Or the way millions of Muslims imagine paradise, as simply living in peace without being attacked. Simply being allowed to breathe without harassment. Being able to provide for a family and feel connected to the surrounding community. 

When Jesus was killed by crucifixion, it was humanity’s attempt to throw him as far from paradise as we could. To leave him naked and exposed out in the elements, separated from the ground he had walked on and the people he had walked with. To make him easy to point out, easy to shame, easy to target as a scapegoat for all of our anger and every problem we’ve ever had. Rome didn’t need to take responsibility for the poverty they brought upon Israel as long as they took those who spoke up against oppression and made examples of them by crucifixion. 

Crucifixion is a slow death, but not as slow as many other ways we have of killing each other. Crucifixion is slow in order to be humiliating, to control those who are seen as ‘different,’ seen as a threat to the current powers. We in this day and age use other tools for the same purpose: tools like cat calling, job and housing discrimination, stop and frisk, lynching, and internment camps. These tools teach people they are less than people, they teach people to keep their heads down and their mouths shut, they teach people to be afraid of their own selves and suspicious of one another. So when you grow up under constant threat of these weapons of cultural control, the image and hope of 'paradise' can be as simple as making it home alive at the end of the day. Being able to walk down the street without being haunted by anxiety. Going to bed at night free of regret. So the image of Paradise can also be an image of justice, of a return to balance, of finally, fully, knowing your own self as sacred, as holy, and whole.

The criminal hanging on that cross beside Jesus, the one who actually used his name instead of throwing names and jeers, he knew that he was being punished for an actual crime, even though that punishment was most likely far more severe than he deserved. Rome was, as one commentary put it, far more invested in vengeance than in reconciliation. Actually, the commentator described our current justice system that way, but in many respects it can be hard to tell the difference sometimes, especially once you’ve been beaten with the short end of the stick. So the criminal who knew his crimes also knew that Jesus had not done anything wrong, but was still being crucified. His very existence, then, must have somehow been a threat to the authorities. How could a person be so dangerous that he could threaten the Romans and the religious leaders without even committing a crime?

Friends, this is the one we call Christ the King. The one we call God With Us, God Incarnate, God of the ages, merciful, mighty, creator, redeemer. He lived in such freedom that he inspired that freedom in those who came to him, even to the point of offering hope to someone hanging on a cross in the position of ultimate shame and humiliation. Crucifixion was to break the spirit not only of the person being publicly killed, but of anyone who entertained the thought of emulating that one. Yet here he was, being mocked and ridiculed, still offering hope and comfort to a fellow condemned person.

King of the condemned, he is. Lord of the outcast. Ruler of the thrown away and despised. Lover of the hated. Hope of the despairing. God with us is not here to condemn Muslims or women who have had abortions or veterans with PTSD, but to condemn condemnation itself. God is not come to destroy Mexicans or refugees or even the competition, but to destroy the powers of destruction that try to tear us apart. God is not going to avoid our pain or dress it up and put it on display for pity’s sake, not going to take a quick field trip to make us feel better about ourselves, but will hang next to us, will sit in our condemnation with us, will walk out of it with us, wearing our scars for a crown. Because that is what a king worthy of worship does. That is the kind of Paradise to which God calls us, where each and every person is valued and protected and loved. Where Jeremiah’s words ring true: “I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the LORD. The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. And this is the name by which he will be called: “The LORD is our righteousness.”

This image from Jeremiah illustrates the Kingdom of Jesus which we confess in our creed will have no end. None shall be afraid. None shall be missing. Not one. Not one Muslim, nor one Jew, nor one woman, nor one child. And that, my friends, is paradise. 

End of the world

Malachi 4:1-2a

Psalm 98

2 Thessalonians 3:6-13

Luke 21:5-19

See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the LORD of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.

Sing a new song to the LORD, who has done marvelous things, whose right hand and holy arm have won the victory. O LORD, you have made known your victory, you have revealed your righteousness in the sight of the nations. You remember your steadfast love and faithfulness too the house of Israel; all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God. Shout with joy to the LORD, all you lands; lift up your voice, rejoice, and sing. Sing to the LORD with the harp, with the harp and the voice of song. With trumpets and the sound of the horn shout with joy before the king, the LORD. Let the sea roar, and all that fills it, the world and those who dwell therein. Let the rivers clap their hands, and let the hills ring out with joy before the LORD, who comes to judge the earth. The LORD will judge the world with righteousness and the peoples with equity.

Now we command you, beloved, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received form us. For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying fir it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you. This was not because we do not have that right, but in order to give you an example to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this command: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idelenss, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we commend and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.

When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, Jesus said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and ‘The time is near!’’ Do not go after them. When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earth quakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your soul.”

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It sounds like the end of the world, doesn’t it? Insurrections, nations rising up in war, earth quakes, famines and plagues… my father is one who is sure Jesus is returning soon, that we are in the end times. But Luke was writing about an experience the people had already had, because he was writing after those stones of the temple had already been torn down. And historical tragedies on the scale of ‘the end of the world’ happen far more frequently than we would like to think about. Of course, it depends on where you land in the metaphorical pyramid if you would experience the end of the world as hope or as anxiety. But the world is ending all the time. For at least half of the country, this feeling of fear is very real right now. Just this week at the University of Albany, somebody drew a swastika on the Dutch Quad, guys on the Colonial Quad were yelling Trump’s now-famous ‘grab her’ line, another Muslim student was harassed, and threats of rape were made to a woman wearing a Bernie pin. People of color are being told to get to the back of the bus by bus drivers in New York City. As ugly as this election has been, as polarizing, as dehumanizing, we have yet to see the ultimate outcome of it, but in many ways it is another end of the world, isn't it? Major leadership changes always are some kind of ending and new beginning. Some of us somehow think this is God’s justice on the world, some of us are still begging for that justice. Some already feel betrayed by parents and relatives. Jesus’ words to his disciples are pretty relevant today, despite their being written almost two thousand years ago. 

But the way this Gospel is put together, Jesus speaks these words while on his way to die. He knows he will be one of the ones who is betrayed and put to death. And he does not turn away from it, because he is committed to his cause, dedicated to his values, and refuses to return evil for evil. It seems weird that Luke has him saying, within the same two sentences, both that ‘they will put some of you to death,’ and that ‘not a hair of your head will perish.’ But somehow the author of this Gospel finds hope in this and wishes to share it with his readers. Somehow the whole end of the world experience that Luke has just lived through makes him very aware that, even though the world as he knew it came to an end, the sun still came up again, the cycles of day and night did not end, and the integrity of those who claimed faith holds them together through the end of everything they knew. He does not offer this passage in light and fluffy Hallmark hope, where if we just pretend everything’s pretty and wonderful it will be, he does not simply offer ‘thoughts and prayers’ to those in distress, but he offers this testimony it as a survivor of this terrible series of compounded violence upon hatred upon even more violence. He writes this Gospel to tell his listeners “I lived through this and you can, too.”

So what does your life depend on? What values do build upon? What source of hope and strength and light guides you through times of major upheaval? And how does that give you strength to love? Nobody else can answer that question for you, and we can’t set that hope on any human ruler or authority, either. Because, as we know, people change and positions of power trade hands often. We need to set our hope on something solid, friends. Something bigger than ourselves. And it’s not the government. And it’s not our race. And it’s not assimilation. And it’s not a wall. And it’s not our job security. And it’s not healthcare benefits or retirement accounts or the current state of the stock market. And it’s not the church, either. If it ever becomes the church that we put our trust in, we are lost, because the church is still a human institution. We can’t live with somebody or some group telling us how to avoid judgment and conflict, we’ve got to think and decide for ourselves.

Which brings me to comedy and poetry. Because sometimes when I'm looking for answers and Scripture seems too familiar and borders on sounding trite - which it does sometimes, the way we use it for Hallmark cards and cute posters - I look to modern day prophets, many of whom are comedians and poets. One comedian in particular this week is sister to the woman who preached at my Ordination. She writes for the Late Show with Seth Meyers, and she is fantastic. This week she had a few things to say to those who were disappointed in the outcome, who had become wary of their neighbors and fearful for their safety: First, she let us know that if we are white and surprised about racism in this country, we could just “join the fun,” because people who’ve received firsthand experience of racism have always known our country has thrived on it. And if this surprises any of us, we’re not paying attention. And if our faith doesn’t tell us to pay attention, we’re not paying attention. But then Amber said something very serious: 

“The thought of someone believing you deserve fewer rights because of who you are is depressing. But then you realize that by doing what you do everyday you prove to them that you’re unstoppable. They can spend their time trying to pass laws to take away your rights and silence your voice. But all you have to do is live your lives right in their faces. And it proves that we simply cannot be stopped.”

In a world that seems to be ending, in the last days of whatever struggles we might be facing, politically or personally, just living, just seeking to live with integrity, just being who we are is a victory. We seek to heal, to love, to serve, to walk in the ways of Christ to our best ability, and we lean on each other for support in the work which lies ahead and within. Keeping our Muslim brothers and sisters safe, calling out the sexism that haunts so many women even as close as Albany University, trying to make sense of the swasticas showing up on public property as though they have become acceptable, these things are how we live into our identities as people created in the Image of God, seeking to honor that Image in each and every person around us, no matter their skin color, national origin, gender, or religion. Our faith calls us to live this reality, brothers and sisters, this reality that love conquers fear no matter how big the fear grows. That’s the message of a faith built on the Incarnation of God come to dwell with us in our very own flesh, bleeding the same blood, sweating the same sweat, weeping the same salty tears.

The power of God is revealed in the audacity to remain true to self and survive the end of the world. It beautifully comes through in Maya Angelou’s poem, “Still I Rise,” so I want to share with you the last stanza, recalling to mind the images from today’s Gospel reading that are so full of fear of the end of the world. Nation rising against nation. Family betraying itself. Earthquakes and hate and imprisonment and beatings. Try to hear Angelou’s words from the perspective of this Gospel, from someone who has felt their entire life threatened, who has lived through many world-endings, who has learned to live in that power of the integrity of self and strength of purpose to survive, who was a living Image of God:

“Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.”

Sodom and Zacchaeus

Isaiah 1:10-18

Hear the word of the LORD, you rulers of Sodom! Listen to the teaching of our God, you people of Gomorrah! What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. When you come to appear before me, who asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation - I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to of good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. Come now, let us argue it out, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become wool.

Psalm 32:1-7

Happy are they whose transgressions are forgiven, and whose sin is put away! Happy are they to whom the LORD imputes no guilt, and in whose spirit there is no guile! While I held my tongue, my bones withered away, because of my groaning all day long. For your hand was heavy upon me day and night; my moisture was dried up as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not conceal my guilt. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD.”  Then you forgave me the guilt of my sin. Therefore all the faithful will make their prayers to you in time of trouble; when the great waters overflow, they shall not reach them. You are my hiding place; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, to the church of the Thessalonians in God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. We must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing. Therefore we ourselves boast of you among the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith during all your persecutions and the afflictions that you are enduring. To this end we always pray for you, asking that our God will make you worthy of his call and will fulfill by his power every good resolve and work of faith, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Luke 19:1-10

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.” Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

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It would sure be convenient not to have had the first reading this morning about Soddom and Gomorrah, just to focus on the cute children’s song about Zacchaeus, the ‘wee little man,’ who climbed up a tree, but it would be irresponsible to ignore the prophet Isaiah today. Not only today, of course, but my own context as a member of the LGBTQ community means that I cannot ignore a story showing up in the lectionary that has been used against my people for too long. It’s one of those trigger stories because of how it’s been weaponized. We know the Bible can be used as a weapon, we hear it being used as a weapon still, even quietly when we simply tolerate difference. Zacchaeus sure knew how scripture could be turned against a person. We had a tax collector in last week’s parable of the tax collector and the Pharisee at prayer, and here is a real-life encounter Jesus has with a man who makes his living by gathering money from his own people to pay those who colonized and sought to erase his culture and history with violence and threats of violence.

Religion has used power for centuries to oppress and control, just like any other human institution which seeks to organize and impose authority. Whether we’re fighting over land or food or ideals, we’ve seen and known a history of violence for far too long, often using religion as the excuse to back up our personal fears, rather than as it should be, which is to set us free from those fears.

This is the reason prophets like Isaiah are so relevant today, because we keep repeating history and need the reminders again and again that we have nothing to be afraid of. See, Soddom and Gomorrah were completely awful to guests and travelers, to those in need and those who sought sanctuary within their borders. Their sin was not homosexuality, as many have said, but their will to violate outsiders and devalue their own who did not make them comfortable, either by class or gender or economy. The way the story of Sododm and Gomorrah has been turned against my people has turned those who use it into violently inhospitable Sodomites themselves. Ironic, isn’t it? Every time we try and use scripture to exclude other people from God’s vision and God’s kingdom, we cut ourselves out of that vision. Because the kingdom of God is all-inclusive, values every single life, and does not depend on uniformity or assimilation to function. God made a world of space for diversity and curiosity and seeing one another as we are rather than as we would want others to be for our own ease. Somehow we decided we could order the world better on our own terms, and in came the black and white thinking of either/or extremes, shutting down community for the sake of efficiency and shame-laden competition. How can we learn to actually see one another if we insist on these externally-imposed definitions of who is acceptable and who isn’t?

When Zacchaeus climbed that tree to see Jesus, it was to get his own contact with God that the community around him did not allow him to have. They did not make room for him in the crowd, they did not take his shortness of stature into account, they saw only the tax collector, and not the child of Abraham’s covenant with the Divine. God, however, saw Zacchaeus, and Zacchaeus’ own home became a sanctuary for the very God his neighbors claimed to serve by excluding him. He may not have been socially acceptable to his community, they may have been terribly offended at Jesus’ decision to eat with ‘that sinner,’ but ‘that sinner’ was as much a child of God as any of them, indeed behaving more like one of Abraham’s offspring than those who would exclude him on account of their piety.

When the people of God gather, there are always more people present than we see, always more voices than we hear, always more history than we are aware of. God’s kingdom is bigger than our imaginations of what it should or could or might be. And the Spirit of God is constantly working in and among us to unchain us from our fears and set us free from our anxieties. Our God is a God of salvation, and the judgment we fear is only that we might have wasted our living on being afraid of dying, killing ourselves and one another in an effort to protect ourselves from some false threats of being wrong or less right or not good enough to love and value. Jesus went to be the guest of a man whose reputation was tarnished by his neighbors’ insistence on imposed and impossible social perfection. Jesus made himself vulnerable to loving those who considered themselves insiders and to those who were made outsiders. Wherever you find yourself on that spectrum these days, whatever you are afraid of losing or never even accessing, your value and worth lie not in your piety or religiosity but in the love which has already been poured out for you, the love which died at the hands of our fears to take those fears to the grave, the love which comes to us in so many different forms and kinds and colors that we are never without it even when we refuse it.

Whatever your context, God lives in that real space and time alongside you and within you. Whatever your fears about being good enough or right enough, God is bigger than those fears. Whatever you struggle to accept, either in yourself or in others, remember God who created the world in the beginning called it good and blessed it. We do not have to live in a world that runs on divisiveness and suspicion of others, of ranking people good to bad, because the sacrifice of God on the cross showed us both the outcome of that path and the hope of a reality greater, the promise of resurrection and new life and second chances and reconciliation. We, too, are children of the covenant, and God’s prophets speak to us today as much as to their own time, of a vision that sustains our hope in God’s promised future come to us in the here and now.