We Tell This Story

Rev. Debbie Cato
Luke 2:1-20
Fairfield Community Church
December 24, 2022 Christmas  Eve

O Holy God, we need this story—this Christmas story. We need this story of ordinary people who were brave. We need this story of love that changed the world. We need this story of angel choruses that give reason to hope, and starlight that reminds us to look up. In a battered and bruised world, we gather around your Word like people gather around a fire to warm themselves. So we are here, gathered together to warm ourselves by your light, because we need this story. We need the truth that lies deep in these holy words. So today we pray: scoop out space in us to truly listen. Quiet our minds. Open our hearts. Kindle the fire. Amen.

We Tell This Story

 

Every year we tell the same story.  We wait the whole Advent season to hear it.  It doesn’t change.  We read it from the Gospel of Luke every year.  We know it by heart.  I love it.  I never get tired of hearing it. Why do we love to hear this story so much?

This story is about God’s plan to save the world.  About how he used a 13-year-old ordinary, poor, teenage virgin named Mary, from a humble, no-name village named Nazareth.  She was engaged to a carpenter named Joseph from Bethlehem.  God chose her to carry  his unborn son.

Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem by foot and donkey when Mary was about to give birth because they had to register for a census that was ordered by the Roman Emperor.  They traveled about 90 miles by foot and donkey – probably traveling for at least 4 days if they traveled for 8 hours a day.  Imagine being 9 months pregnant traveling on a donkey for 8 hours a day for a week. 

When they arrive in Bethlehem there is no place for them to stay and it is time for Mary to give birth.  So they find a stable to bed down in where it is warm and out of the weather.  When Mary gives birth, she lays the baby in a manger – the feeding trough for the animals that were in the stable.

The Son of God is not born in a temple or a castle or even a house.  He is born in a barn and sleeps in a feeding trough, God himself come to live on earth – part human but fully divine.  Christ comes with no royalty attached to him, no privilege.  He’s born into poverty to ordinary human parents.  Soon he will be a refuge, forced to leave his home with his parents and flee to a foreign land due to threats on his life by the Roman ruler.  As an adult, Jesus will rebel against establishment and teach love and peace and justice and fight for those without a voice.  Ordinary, common people.  People like you and me.

A new star shines above the stable, shining a brilliant light  and lighting the way to where the Christ child lies.  The light of heaven has come to earth.  God himself has been born.  Angels fill the sky with song and far away in the hills, lowly shepherds who are tending their sheep hear the angels proclaim,

“Don’t be afraid!” “We bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. ¹¹ The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! ¹² And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

¹³ Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in highest heaven,
    and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

¹⁵ When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

These shepherds are the lowest of society.  In fact, Adam Hamilton reminds us that this was the night shift of shepherds, the lowest of the lowest of society.  The shepherds are the people that God chose to be the first to hear about the birth of His Son.  Dirty, gritty shepherds out in the fields alone with their sheep.  And these shepherds believe the angels and they quickly go and find the baby Jesus and they see for themselves that there He is – the Son of God.  And they worship him, this little baby sleeping in a feeding trough filled with hay.  The Messiah has been born. 

And then when the shepherds leave, they go, and they tell the story to everyone they meet and see.  The Son of God has been born they tell people!!  He is laying in a manger, here in Bethlehem!

Can you feel their excitement?  These nobodies who live in the fields alone seeing the Son of God with their own eyes?  These rough loners chosen by God to be the first to hear this amazing story – this story of hope and good news.

I think that’s why we wait to hear this story every year.  It is a story full of good news for ordinary people like you and me.  It’s a story full of hope for a broken world full of pain and darkness.  Light has broken through.  The Son of God is born.  He has come as a vulnerable baby born in a stable and laying in a feeding trough.  He has come to save the world.  He has come to bring light into the darkness.  He has come to bring peace into a world in dire need of reconciliation.  He has come to teach us how to love one another. 

I think that’s why we love to hear this story.  Because every year, Jesus Christ, the Son of God is born.  It’s an amazing story.  God chooses to make himself known in human form yet fully divine using a poor, teenage girl from a humble village.  He’s born in a stable; a barn, and sleeps in a feed trough filled with hay.  Scruffy shepherds are the first to hear the news and they come quickly to see for themselves and when they leave the spread the story to all who will listen. 

“Don’t be afraid “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. ¹¹ The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! ¹² And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

This is a story of hope and love and truth for ordinary people like you and me.  A story that we sorely need to hear  year after year.   God is with us, Emmanuel.  He is with us and for us and will never leave us. The Messiah, Jesus Christ, Son of God is born!

“Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”   Amen.

Blue Christmas Reflection 2022

 Rev. Debbie Cato
Isaiah 40:1, 25-31and Matthew 5:1-10
Fairfield Community Church
Blue Christmas
December 21, 2022

A Reflection

 

There are times in our lives when God feels far away. There can be many reasons: massive transitions, loss and grief, fear of the future, guilt over our own behavior, or even the feeling that God has abandoned us.

That can be particularly true in Advent – the time of waiting before Christmas Eve, when so many around us are celebrating enthusiastically.  This can make the feeling of distance feel all the more painful. The words of Psalm 139, known as “The Inescapable God” are a gentle reminder that it is especially when we are feeling alone and far from God that God comes to find us … God comes to us even in the darkness, for there is no darkness that is invisible to God.  The Psalmist writes: 

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,

    and night wraps itself around me,”^[a]
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is as bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

God is always present; especially when times are hard.  God weeps with us.  He feels our pain, our heartache.  He loves us beyond measure.  Beyond our understanding. 

I think we can hold sorrow in one hand and joy in the other. Feeling joy doesn’t cancel out the grief, and deep sorrow can’t fully snuff out joy, either. We can experience and hold space for both at the same time.

This is especially true for the season of Advent and Christmas. When you are out driving at night and the beauty of the Christmas lights overcomes you and fills you with joy, you might also feel a hint of sadness, wishing your loved one was there with you to see it. On Christmas morning, as the joy of unwrapped presents fills a room with laughter, you might also feel the sting of grief. It’s okay to feel both and know that one doesn’t cancel out the other.

Jesus came into our world in the midst of turmoil and distress; into a family pressed far from home. God announced Jesus’ birth not in the brightness of the day, but in the darkness of the night. And those whom God called to worship Jesus were not the people in power, but unnamed, humble shepherds … not the religious leaders of the nation, but foreigners who brought their special gifts.

 God still finds us, in our darkness, surprise, fear, and doubt — and welcomes us to be with Jesus in his own humble, vulnerable place … the place where the light still shines in the darkness of our world.  God’s light.  It never goes out.  Amen.

 

We See God In Each Other

Rev. Debbie Cato
Luke 1:39 -58
Fairfield Community Church
December 18, 2022 

God of all, we are a mixed bag of distracted and forlorn, eager, and anxious. We hope that you might move through the obstacle course we build up around our hearts— made out of questions and defenses— and douse us in good news. For at the end of the day, all we want is to know that we are not alone, that you are always near. So knock on our door, Sweet talk the guard dog we place in front of our vulnerable hearts, and come right in. Make yourself at home. Pull us close and tell us your story of unbelievable good news. We are listening. We are grateful. Amen.

 

We See God In Each Other

 

This section of scripture, known as “The Visitation,” joins together the announcements of the births of John and Jesus with the accounts of their actual birth stories – pointing out the similarities and the contrasts of the two sons miraculously conceived by these two women.  Both will be great, but Jesus will be the greatest.   

Elizabeth is old and was barren, praying for years and years to conceive.  God tells her she will bear a son, not by Him,  but by her husband. They will name him John and he will do great things.  Elizabeth’s son John will usher out the old age so that Jesus, his cousin, can usher in a new age.

And of course we later learn that John grows up to be a rather odd duck. Living in the wilderness, wearing camel hair clothes, eating locusts, and shouting repent to everyone who could hear and baptizing those who listened in the Jordan River.

Mary is a mere 13-year-old unwed virgin, engaged to marry Joseph, a carpenter.  God tells her she will bear a son – the Son of God, conceived by The Holy Spirit.  He will be the Messiah, the Lord of Lords.  The Son of God. All the world will worship him. Jesus will usher in a new age.  Jesus won’t be the kind of savior people expect.  He will be a rebel to the establishment, teaching peace and justice and love.

Even the unborn John knows the difference between himself and Jesus and John leaps in the womb when Mary enters the home.  The unborn John saw God in the unborn Jesus.

Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth sees God in Mary.  She praises her for both being chosen by God to be the mother of the Lord and, because Mary believed the word of God.  Elizabeth humbles herself before Mary, recognizing that Mary is more highly exalted, more highly chosen than she.[1]   

 

And Mary, well she speaks her joy in what we know as the Magnificat, this song in Scripture that has been made into beautiful choral music.  Nadia Bolz-Weber says that she thinks that “Mary, mother of our Lord, understood that what qualifies us for God’s grace (the “help” I need) isn’t our goodness – what qualifies us for God’s grace is nothing more than our need for God’s grace.”[2] Think about that.  What qualifies us for God’s grace is our need for God’s grace.  Because we need it, God gives it to us.

 

Nadia says, “When Mary sings of God in the Magnificat, she didn’t say that God looked with favor on her virtue. She didn’t say that God looked with favor upon her activism. She didn’t say that God looked with favor on the fact that she had tried so hard that she finally had become the ideal version of herself. No. God looked with favor on her lowliness.”[3]  Her meekness.  Her commonness. 

 

Mary sees what God has done for her as a foreshadowing of what he will do for all the poor, all the powerless, and all the oppressed of the world – the central theme of the whole second movement of the song – the triumph of God’s purposes for all people everywhere.  Mary is so sure God will do this that she proclaims it as an accomplished fact. [4]

 

He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones
    and lifted up the lowly;
⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things
    and sent the rich away empty.
⁵⁴ He has come to the aid of his child Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
    to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

 Mary has a profound understanding of who God is, what He plans to accomplish, and she sees God in everyone, especially the lowly, the ordinary – people like you and me. 

Elizabeth and the unborn baby John recognize God when Mary and the unborn Jesus come to their home.  But I think that Mary also recognized God when she saw Elizabeth.  Perhaps that is why she went to visit her.  Perhaps she saw Elizabeth as a holy woman in her life.  We don’t know why she made that trip.  Was Elizabeth a special person in Mary’s life?  We don’t know.  But when Mary received the news from the angel of her own impending pregnancy and birth, and then the news that her old, barren cousin Elizabeth was carrying a child, she traveled to see her.  Mary spent three months with Elizabeth.  She stayed until it was time for Elizabeth to give birth.

When Elizabeth opened her door to Mary, I think Mary saw God in Elizabeth’s face.  I think she recognized that God was present in the moment and present in Elizabeth’s pregnancy just as He was present with Mary.  I think she sung to praise God for Elizabeth’s situation as much as her own.

I see God’s face so much in my life.  I see Him in the faces of my grandchildren, Clara and Caleb, the innocence of their love and enthusiasm for life.  I saw God in the faces of the preschoolers on Thursday morning when we recounted the story of the birth of Jesus and did the felt board together.  I see the face of God when I look out from the pulpit at you, sitting in the pews, so full of love.  I see his face when you offer up prayer concerns for friends and neighbors and family members that you care deeply about.  I see the face of God in people at the post office who heard what happened and ask how I’m doing. I could go on and on.

Look around at each other.  God is in us. After all, we are created in His image. If we pay attention, we see God in the faces of people we meet in our ordinary interactions every day.  The clerk at the store, the waitress at the restaurant, the teacher or administrator, the person we pass on the street.  The homeless person shivering in the cold.  The person who is on the opposite side of the political aisle.  The person you are angry with; estranged with.  There’s a saying that goes something like, “you will never look into any face that is not loved by God.”  I think that is the same as saying that we should see God in every person we encounter.  Imagine if we treated one another that way.  Imagine.   

Mary greets Elizabeth at a literal threshold (the doorway of Elizabeth’s home) and goes to her at a threshold moment in her life when all is about to change. They recognize God in each other.

Let’s make a practice of seeing God in one another and watching how that changes how we interact and treat one another in the new year.  Amen.

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[1] Interpretation.  A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching. Luke.  Craddock, Fred.  P 29.
[2] Nadia Bolz-Weber.  thecorners@substack.com.  12.14.2022
[3] Nadia Bolz-Weber.  thecorners@substack.com.  12.14.2022
[4] Ibid.

God Meets Us In Our Fear

 Rev. Debbie Cato
Isaiah 11:1-10 and Luke 1:26-38
Fairfield Community Church
December 4, 2022

Holy God, whether it’s through angels or music, friendships or sermons, study or nature— when you speak, we long to hear it. In a world as chaotic and broken as ours, we could use your words of hope and healing. With gratitude we pray, amen.

 

God Meets Us In Our Fear

 

These verses in Luke are called the Annunciation.  An annunciation is an announcement of something – in this case the announcement of the incarnation by the angel Gabriel to Mary.

In twelve verses, Mary is described as favored, perplexed, thoughtful, and afraid.  She questions, believes, and submits to her call to mother the child of God.[1]

The Greek word often translated as “perplexed,” can also mean “disturbed,” or “agitated,” or “deeply troubled.” How do these other meanings help you to imagine Mary’s initial reaction to the angel? What, exactly, is she afraid of or troubled by?[2]

I remember so clearly sitting in the oncologist’s office with Jessica and Tracy when I found out I had breast cancer.  She told me the mammogram and biopsy confirmed I had two cancerous tumors not just one and I would need surgery as soon as the drugs I was on for my rheumatoid arthritis got out of my system. Time stopped and the doctor’s voice seemed to fade like I was in a tunnel and all sound was muted.  I could no longer listen. All I heard was cancer and my brain got stuck.  Cancer. I was deeply troubled with this news.  I was afraid.

This wasn’t the first time I was deeply troubled or afraid.  When I was 12 years old and my parents said we were moving from the small rural town in Minnesota to a place called Oregon, away from my Grandma Potter and my friend Joannie.  I was deeply troubled and very afraid.

When Jessica had a severe allergic reaction to antibiotics when she was 4 years-old.  Her joints swelled up like basketballs and her body was covered in hives.  Her throat began to close.  The doctors at Children’s Hospital fervently worked on her.  I was very afraid.

 When my dear friend Sheryl died way too young from MS, leaving a 4-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter, I was rocked to the core.

Have you received news that deeply troubled you?  News that disturbed you or agitated you? News that left you afraid?

Every day, people are faced with unexpected news, with untold grief and pain.  The gospel is not enough to take that pain and fear away, not immediately. Hope sounds hollow to those who are enduring the wretched parts of life. Often, we cannot begin to understand the fear and anguish of those around us who suffer. Nor should we.  Everyone’s fear and anguish is different and unique.  We can’t and shouldn’t compare it to ours, even if we have experienced similar things.

Still, we know—because we are human—that courage rises despite our fear, not in its absence. Those who have suffered loss and tragedy and bad news know this. We can get through things we think impossible. Perhaps this story and the angel’s command to not be afraid are an invitation to just sit with those who are experiencing a world moving on despite their personal struggle—a world that says, “Cheer up! Move on!” while they are still grieving. While they are still afraid; still disturbed, we can just sit with them.  Be present.  Be their strength.  Perhaps we are invited to accompany people moving through their pain, as Mary and Jesus accompanied one another through life events only the two of them understood. Despite the dissension in the world, they moved through the tender spaces of their lives together. And because Jesus was not only Mary’s son, but the Son of god, God himself moved through the tender spaces of Jesus’s human life with Mary, even as they were both afraid.

When the angel Gabriel comes to Mary, she is perplexed and confused—and no doubt, afraid.  I have to wonder if she wasn’t deeply troubled.  She was merely 13 years old and engaged to be married.  She was a virgin.  And now this angel – whose appearance alone would be disturbing, is telling her she is going to conceive and give birth to the Son of God. This is unexpected, and yes, I would say, disturbing, troubling news for Mary.

I can imagine the angel’s voice muted in Mary’s head just like the doctor’s voice muted in my head as she tried to process what was happening and what he was saying to her.  “Stop!  I have plans.  I am going to marry Joseph.  We are going to have our own family.  We have plans.  This will change everything.  What will Joseph think?  What will he do?  What will my village think?  Why me, God?  Choose something else.”

And yet, the angel’s news is: “Do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid. We hear this refrain all throughout the Christmas story.  It is one of the most common phrases in all the bible, over 100 times Scripture tells us not to be afraid.

 Isaiah 41:10 says:   “Do not fear, for I am with you;

                                                                        Do not be afraid, for I am your God;

I will strengthen you; I will help you;
                    I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”

Do not be afraid, for I am your God.  That’s a good verse to memorize.  “Do not be afraid, for I am your God.”

Jesus tells us, (Matthew 28:20), “Do not fear, little flock.” Do no fear. And near the end of his ministry, Jesus tells is disciples, “remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” That sounds an awful lot like he is telling them not to be afraid.  “Remember, I am with you always.

From generation to generation, God shows up in the midst of our fear and uncertainty and confusion. From generation to generation, faithful people have said, “yes,” despite apprehension. From generation to generation, our ancestors in faith have accepted God’s invitation. The prophecy in Isaiah that I read this morning paints a vision of what we work toward when we say “yes”.  Righteousness and equity reign, the wolf lives with the lamb, no harm or hurt will destroy the earth, a child shall lead the way. This is the vision passed down to us: this is the call God gives to us.  We must pursue it and make it real.[3]

After Mary’s initial skepticism about what sort of message she is receiving, the angel says, “Do not be afraid”. He shares with her the message of what will come and then explains how it will occur, responding to Mary’s questioning. Then he tells her about her cousin Elizabeth as an example to prove that “nothing is impossible for God” . At this point, Mary replies, “Let it be.” What changes Mary’s mind? What convinces her to trust this message? From where—or from whom—does she summon her courage?  Was it more information?  Time to process?  Hearing about the miracle of her old, barren cousin Elizabeth?  Or just her faith kicking in?  Perhaps it was a combination of these things.  Whatever it was, Mary says, “Let it be,” putting into motion God’s plan for her life and God’s plan for the world.

 In her artist statement for “Mary’s Golden Annunciation,” which is the cover of our bulletin this morning, artist Carmelle Beaugelin writes: “In Mary’s ‘yes,’ uttered in her Magnificat, we see the transformation of a young teenage girl from fearful to determined, from simply accepting to deciding, from passivity to action, from betrothed to surrogate mother of God—an honor rarer than gold. Perhaps the most remarkable annunciation in this passage is not the messenger’s revelation to Mary, but Mary’s ‘yes’ to the call.”[4]

This idea of Mary’s transformation from fear to strength and the surrogate mother of God resonated with me.  While my cancer diagnosis initially filled me with a fear I hadn’t felt before, looking back I realize it eventually transformed me.  I found a strength I didn’t know I had.  I became a warrior, fighting for my health.  I learned how strong my daughters are – they are warriors too.  I learned how loved and valued I am by my friends, and I gained new friends who had walked this journey before me and experienced the same, yet different journey.  And yes, I felt God’s presence with me in new and stronger ways than I had before.  Not at first.  I had to experience that fear.  That darkness.  That unknowing-ness.  But God was there too.  God met me in my fear.  And it wasn’t long before I heard him say, “Do not be afraid.  I am your God.”  And I chose to believe him.

Perhaps you can think of a time when you were afraid yet stepped forward and were able to move past your fear.  Often, we don’t have a choice.  We have to keep going.  If we are fortunate, we will hear God’s voice through the encouragement of friends or family.  Sometimes He speaks to us in the quiet of the darkness or the craziness of the moment. We have to listen.  God is always there.  Always.  Do not be afraid.  I am your God.

I think it’s O.K. to be fearful and confused and deeply troubled.  These are honest human feelings and reactions to difficult situations in our lives. It’s how we begin to process. It’s O.K. to question. Mary was deeply troubled by the angel’s message.  She questioned it and after receiving more information, she believed and submitted to God’s call.  In the process, she was transformed and her life forever changed.  It wasn’t an easy life. Following God’s call seldom is.   Mary suffered considerably as the Mother of God.  But if we are faithful, we will be transformed. And God will always be with us.  Always.  He meets us in our fear as well as our joy. Thanks be to God.  Amen.

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[1] Feasting on the Word.  Year B, Volume 1.  Fourth Sunday of Advent.  Luke 1:26-38.  Theological Perspective.  Cynthia L. Rigby.  P. 92.[2] Sanctified Art. Second Sunday of Advent 2022.  Guiding Questions. Dr. Christine J. Hong.   
[3] Sanctified Art. Second Sunday of Advent 2022.  Guiding Questions. Dr. Christine J. Hong.   
[4] Sanctified Art.  Carmele Beaugelin.  Artist.

There's Room for Every Story

 Rev. Debbie Cato
Isaiah 2:1-5; Matthew 1:1-17
Fairfield Community Church
November 27, 2022

God of the ages, in scripture we hear stories of people like us— ordinary people, people who longed to know you, people who longed to follow you, people who made mistakes, people who tried to grow— old, young, native, immigrant, new to the faith, lifelong believer. In scripture we hear stories of people like us, so just as you walked with them, help us to hear and remember all the ways that you walk with us. We are listening. We are grateful. We are yours. Amen.

 

 

There’s Room for Every Story

 

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, this season of waiting.  We are waiting for the birth of the Christ child. I love this season of the liturgical calendar.  This season of anticipation.  This season of  wonder and hope.

This year our Advent theme is “From Generation to Generation.”  The root word of “generation” is “gen” meaning “origin” or “birth.” This theme is also a call to action: what are we being called to generate or bring forth? What have your ancestors and those who have come before you passed on for you to continue? Who are the spiritual elders in our community who planted the seeds for the things that are now blooming? What seeds are you planting for the future?[1]  What seeds are we, Fairfield Community Church planting for the future?  These are questions for us to think about; to ponder as we enter into these four weeks of Advent; these four weeks of waiting.

I loved going to my Grandma Potter’s house – for many reasons, really.  But one of the reasons was she had a chest full of old pictures up in her attic and she would go through the pictures with me and tell me stories about my ancestors, her parents and grandparents and other family members that I had never met. She would tell me stories about her childhood, growing up so  many years before me.  She would pull out a picture and I could tell she disappeared into her history, and she would begin to talk.  I loved those times with Grandma.  Learning about her story which was part of my story.

Who is Jesus Christ?  We don’t ever really get a complete answer to that question, do we? Matthew’s Gospel begins not with a beautiful manger scene like Luke, but with an attempt to articulate a comprehensive answer to who Jesus was.  Matthew’s definition of who Jesus is begins with a genealogy.  No other Gospel author thought it helpful to begin the story in this way, but Matthew begins with Jesus’ family background going back over forty generations.   Family history was important in historical times.

Matthew’s intention is clear:  “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”  Abraham was called by God to be the father of God’s descendants and David was the legitimate ruler of God’s people.  Jesus is the descendent of both and Jesus as the Messiah is the successor of King David over the Jews.

It is also interesting who is included in the genealogy.  It is not just men.  There are five women listed – extremely unusual since women were inconsequential in those times. Yet we find five women in the genealogy of Jesus. Not just one or two, but five.

First is Tamar.  Tamar had a lot of trauma and grief in her life.  She was married to two different sons of Judah; both men treated her so badly that God had them killed.  Judah thought Tamar killed them and he had her banned from society, unable to marry and therefore bear children.  Tamar tricked Judah, her father-in-law, into sleeping with her.  She becomes pregnant and gives birth to two boys; Perez and Zerah – both listed in the genealogy of Jesus. Tamar is in the genealogy because she is considered righteous.

Rahab is listed in the genealogy.  Before the Israelites cross the Jordan, on their journey to the Promised Land, Joshua sends men to scout out the land. Arriving in Jericho, they decide to spend the night at the house of the prostitute Rahab. When Jericho’s ruler tries to apprehend them, Rahab hides them and then helps them escape through the window, saving their lives. In return, she and her household are spared the destruction of Jericho and become part of the people of Israel.  In spite of her past as a prostitute, Rahab is included in the genealogy of Jesus.  

Perhaps you know the story of Ruth.  There is an Old Testament Book named after her.  Ruth was a Moabite woman who married an Israelite.  Moabites were enemies of Israel. After the death of all the male members of her family (her husband, her father-in-law, and her brother-in-law), she stays with her mother-in-law, Naomi, and moves to Judah with her, where Ruth wins the love and protection of a wealthy relative, Boaz, through her kindness.  Ruth gave birth to Obed who fathered Jesse, who fathered King David.  And though Ruth was a Moabite and not an Israelite, she is included in the genealogy of Jesus.

 Then there’s Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah.  Uriah was a soldier in King David’s army.  One day while the army was out fighting, King David saw Bathsheba bathing.  She was naked and very beautiful and rather than looking away, David watched her bathe.  He lusted after her and had Uriah killed in battle so he could take Bathsheba as his own.  Bathsheba is included in the genealogy of Jesus, listed not with King David, but as the wife of Uriah.

And then of course there is Mary.  A poor, humble 13-year-old teenager who gave birth to the Christ child.  A girl from Nazareth where scripture tells us, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” is included in the genealogy of Jesus because she was obedient to the Holy Spirit, and though she didn’t understand how it could be possible, she became pregnant while a virgin and gave birth to the Messiah.

 All of these women have stories.  None of them brilliant or note-worthy.  Some of them even shameful; trauma-filled.  Yet their stories are woven into the history of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth whom we call Christ, the Savior of the World.

And then there’s the men.  Abraham got tired of waiting for God to fulfill his promise and so he had sex with his Sarah’s maid and had a son with her.  Then when Sarah got jealous, he sent her away with his son – banishing her. 

We’ve already talked about David – who had one of his soldiers murdered so that he could take his wife as his own.

And Joseph, the human father of Jesus.  Like Mary, Joseph was from humble means from Bethlehem, a small village similar to Nazareth.  Joseph was a carpenter, most likely like his father before him.  As a carpenter, he made furniture or maybe even farming implements.  He was not a man of great wealth or stature.  He was engaged to Mary who became impregnated by the Holy Spirit.  Explained in a dream about the pregnancy, Joseph went ahead and married Mary and raised Jesus as his earthly son.  And because of Joseph’s righteousness, all God’s prophesies in the Old Testament came true about the Messiah.

I could go on and on through this genealogy.  Each person has a story – each generation a story of trauma and shame; of good and bad; of redemption by God.  Each person included in the genealogy of Christ because there’s room for their story in God’s story. Each person quite ordinary.

 We each have a story.  Most of our stories are probably pretty ordinary.  Mine is.  It includes trauma and shame. It includes indescribable joy and happiness. It includes things I’m proud of and things I’m not.  But all the pieces, the pretty and the ugly, the fun and the sad are all part of my story – part of who I am – Debbie Cato, a beloved child of God.  It’s hard for me to believe – that I’m beloved.  But I am.  Covered with God’s grace. Forgiven for my sins and called beloved.

And so are you.  Whatever your story is – the good and the bad.  The proud moments and the not so proud.  The trauma, the shame, the celebrations – all of it.  It’s who you are.  And you too are a beloved child of God.  Loved beyond your imagination.  You are part of God’s story.  We are all part of God’s story. 

There is room for every story. Every one of ours. God has a way of taking our stories and turning them into his.  He has a calling on our lives just like he did on Tamar and Rahab and Ruth and Bathsheba and Mary.  Like he did on Abraham and David and Joseph.  Every one of us has a place in God’s story. 

We may not even know what that place is.  I don’t think that Tamar or Rahab or Ruth or Bathsheba or even Mary or Joseph understood their roles so why would we?  But our stories are bigger and better than we realize.  We have a purpose, bigger than us. We, each and every one of us, and all of us together, we are part of God’s story.  May we each live for the glory of God.  Amen.

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[1]Sanctified Art.  Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman, Director of Branding, Founding Creative Partner