Sunday, January 31, 2021

Sermon - 4th Sunday after Epiphany - Year B

 Mark 1:21-28

                                                   By What Authority 

By now you have surely caught on to the ways in which my interpretation of scripture was influenced by the place I chose to study theology.  In addition to the particular Lutheran theologians who had been called to serve in Chicago, there was the influence of the students and faculty who were part of the Cluster of Theological seminaries.  I took a lot of courses from the Roman Catholics. 

One of the books I read, as a result of a relationship I developed with Father Ted Ross was Charles Curran’s The Crisis in Priestly Ministry.  Written in 1972, the book addressed what was beginning to happen in congregations and parishes where the word and words of the local priest were not being heard as a final answer.  Members of the Church were beginning to seek out additional voices and differing perspectives.  The “crisis” emerges when you have a pastor who believes themselves to be a vessel of God, sent to shepherd a flock of God’s children, and then begins to realize his words are being subjected to the same critique experienced by the headlines of the tabloids lining the check-out lines at the grocery store.  

Well – maybe that is a bit too strong of a contrast.  But the point remains.  Fewer and fewer folks in the pews are prepared to hear the word or words of a solitary Priest and then whole-heartedly accept them as having come directly from God. 

In 1972, we thought that this was becoming a problem for the Roman Catholic Church and its priests.  In the years since we have come to realize it is a crisis for every Christian congregation and all their pastors.  Every attempt at teaching is questioned as to “By what authority do you teach these things?” 

Jesus goes to Capernaum.  He enters the synagogue.  And he teaches.  

Jesus could do that – rather easily in his day.  Unlike modern-day synagogues (or our well-established Western style congregations,) the synagogue in Capernaum likely had a number of “teachers” that day.  There may have been some version of a pulpit somewhere in the space, but mostly there were nooks and crannies in which anyone who wished to do so could begin to “teach.”  It is sort of like walking through the streets of Asheville’s city center.  There are all sorts of folks hoping to catch the attention of those who probably came for a different reason but might be attracted to that which catches their eyes, or ears.  

Jesus goes to Capernaum.  He enters the synagogue.  And he teaches.  

Jesus had not asked permission from the folks who kept that synagogue running.  He had not verified what he was going to say with the scribes and scholars in Capernaum.  He just starts to talk.  And the people listen. 

You will recall in Luke’s account of Jesus’ first effort to teach in the synagogue that his words enraged those local leaders to the point that they attempted to throw Jesus off a cliff.  In both accounts we can see why those who had dedicated their whole lives to keeping that synagogue open and available are outraged.  This guy shows up out of nowhere without an invitation.  He begins to speak, and those who hear him are attracted to him.  They like what he has to say.  And they even murmur among themselves that Jesus teaches “as one having authority, and not as the scribes.”  This uninvited itinerant intruder suddenly becomes more believed than those who had been teaching in that synagogue for decades. 

What happens next is most often retold as a healing miracle.  I am referring to the shouts of the man and his being both healed and silenced.  In attempting to understanding these events, some will delve into the way in which those with evil intent are more prepared to see Jesus’ power than the self-righteous.   When read in the context of where my sermon preparation had taken me thus far, I found myself thinking that maybe Jesus silences the unclean spirit because it wasn’t helping his case to have some crazy guy in the corner giving him praise.   What easier way to discredit a stranger than implying his only followers were those who were two bricks short of a full load?  How simple it would have been to dismiss Jesus by frightening potential followers by pointing to the looney-bin of persons who speak of this stranger as if he were some sort of a messiah. 

“Only a crazy person would listen to him!” 

From the very beginning, from the opening chapter of The Gospel, Jesus faces a crisis in priestly ministry.  How will he assure persons that they can trust his words?  What could he do to assure them he was speaking out of individual self-interest? 

This is the crisis reshaping how we will come to understand priestly ministry.  The change has already occurred, we simply need to figure out how to live into it. 

We may regularly attend worship, but we come prepared to challenge what is sung or said.  We take pride in not immediately believe anything we hear.  Everything we read is looked upon suspiciously.  The press puts out a bunch of malarkey – whether it is the Associated Press or the Augsburg-Fortress Press or the Wittenberg Press.  We find a preacher who preaches what we prefer to hear, and we change our listening location when the pastor claims an authority we find unacceptable. 

This is the crisis in the priestly ministry.  Preachers we don’t trust and Priests whose attempts to shepherd are subjected to the same critique given any other tabloid headline. 

And don’t mis-hear me:  I am NOT advocating for a return to the time when anything the preacher says is to be taken in hook-line-and-sinker.  I want you to test everything I have said to you and will say to you in the weeks we have remaining.  

But I do worry, that in a place where no voice is seen as final that any voice can step into the role of most influential.  At why this crisis is in the “priestly” ministry is because the local priest is the one who too often serves as our only portal the larger teachings of The Church.  If the local pastor is not seen as trustworthy, no effort or action on the part of that pastor will lead one to explore the deeper teachings of a tradition.  If the local pastor is self-centered and wants to be the final word and authority, that pastor is unlikely to encourage looking to other voices or teachings. 

It is absolutely essential that the followers of Jesus “test the spirits.”  It is equally essential that the instruments for carrying out such tests are worthy of the confidence we place in them. 

The best way for me to end this sermon is to tell you not to believe a thing I have told you. 

The point of this sermon is that far too many of Jesus’ followers have allowed their ears to be filled with the talk of some crazy guy shouting at the top of his lungs.  And far too few of those followers of Jesus have invested the time and energy and effort in examining the way in which they approach scripture and clarifying which passages of scripture are going to serve as tools for understanding the remaining verses of scripture. 

My approach and the tools I prefer pretty much begin and end with the post resurrection appearance shared in John 21.  Jesus asks if Peter if he loves him.   Asks him three times!  After Peter expresses his love for Jesus, Jesus asks him to tend and feed his lambs. 

The wise among us will continually remind us that a crisis is an opportunity.  The crisis facing the Church may undermine so much of what we have held precious.  It already has resulted in many loosing confidence and trust in our institutions and structures.  And let us all be thankful for how this crisis has exposed and helped us to rid ourselves of those who abused and abuse the invitation to become a servant. 

 The opportunity in this crisis can be realized when we finally begin to achieve what Martin Luther hoped for in the 15th century.  With a well-functioning printing press and the freedom to hear from alternative voices we can study and learn and discern what God is saying to us and what God wants us to hear.  And, again thanks to the changes brought about in the 15th century, we don’t all have to coalesce around the same hermeneutical principals.  The Roman Catholics have something to contribute.  As do the Presbyterians and the Church of Christ folks.  But so do the United Church of Christ theologians and Southern Baptists and non-denominational. 

 Do not identify as “Lutheran” merely because you happen to like this group of the folks who call this their congregation.  Do not blindly accept the authority of another when they try to tell you “this is where you belong”. 

 But do not become a reed shaken in the wind – biblically ignorant and theologically unenlightened.  Every one of you can read.  And everyone of you has access to a library.  You shouldn’t trust everything the press publishes, but you are capable of identifying and then naming the place to which you do trust and know to be believable.

 The best way for me to end this sermon is to tell you not to believe a thing I have told you.  Test the spirits!

 The point of this sermon is that far too many of Jesus’ followers have allowed their ears to be filled with the talk of some crazy guy shouting at the top of his lungs.  And far too few of those followers of Jesus have invested the time and energy and effort in examining the way in which they approach scripture and clarifying which passages of scripture are going to serve as tools for understanding the remaining verses of scripture.

 Amen.

Sunday, January 17, 2021

Sermon - 2nd Sunday of the Epiphany - Year B

John 1:43-51                        

                                                          Come and See 

Of all the ways you could spend your Sunday morning, why are you spending it this way?  I am expecting an answer from each of you.  In fact, we are going to try to hear as many of those answers as we can.  (Let me say a word about those of you who might be watching this Sunday afternoon, Sunday evening, or perhaps a bit later in the week.  You need to come up an answer too.) 

What has happened in your life, or what have you heard in the past, or what internal motivations drive you to spend precious hours of your life this way?  And I do want you – each of you – to arrive at an answer.  After I share a few more of my thoughts, I am going to ask you to share those answers with those sitting with you; and hopefully type a few of them into the “chat” feature – which is that little box of greetings and comments you see along the side of the screen.  

Today’s Gospel lesson is actually the second half of a larger section in which Jesus starts to call his disciples.  The critical phrase (or least the critical phase for the purposes of this sermon) occurs in both sections.  Since you are at home, you ought to have easy access to your bible.  Open it to the first chapter of John.  

John has none of the birth narratives.  It starts with the theological treatise we call “the prologue to John’s gospel,” and then we read stories of John the Baptizer.  Still in that first chapter, in the 29th verse, Jesus enters the story.  He emerges in the place where John is preaching and baptizing. 

If you were in worship last Sunday, you heard Mark’s version of Jesus’ baptism.  You will note that in the Gospel of John there are hints, but no actual recording of Jesus ever being baptized.  There is a testimony from John that he saw the Spirit descend and remain on Jesus – but no pouring of water.  In my sermon last week, I asked, “Why was Jesus baptized?”  The baptism of John was a baptism of repentance.  What need would a sinless Jesus have of such a baptism?  Perhaps the writer of John knew this would be perplexing and thus does not speak of such things.  

But you were asked those questions last Sunday, and have, no doubt, by now, come to a good and lasting conclusion.  So let’s move on.  

It is in Jesus’ encounter with John and John’s disciples that Jesus begins to acquire a few disciples of his own.  In fact, the first two follow Jesus because John shares with them his vision of who Jesus is.  

Verse 36.  John says “Look, here is the Lamb of God!”  One of the two who heard him say this was Andrew.  Andrew goes and gets his brother, Simon, whom Jesus right away renames Cephas (which is translated as Peter). 

When the two potential disciples approach Jesus, Jesus asks them what they are looking for.  They don’t actually respond, at least not in a style that makes sense to us.  The text tell that in reply to “What are you looking for?” They reply, “Teacher, where are you staying?”  Perhaps this is an idiom for what was Jesus teaching or what he believes.  But their response does not ask for an explanation of his doctrine nor an indication of his authority. 

“What are you looking for?” - -  “Where are you staying?” then comes an even more interesting response.  It is now Jesus’ turn to speak – and he tells them, “Come and see.” 

That is the critical verse – critical at least for today’s sermon.  “Come and see.” 

That same invitation is repeated in today’s section of John 1. This time it is spoken by Philip.  Things are moving fast.  Jesus has left the banks of the River Jordan and is now in the region of Galilee.  We probably ought to assume that Andrew and Peter are with him.  The next person to whom Jesus issues an invitation is Philip, who is described as being from the same city as Andrew and Peter.   

Philip seems to have rather rapidly become a follower, because he right away goes and finds Nathanael.  He tells Nathanael, “We have found him about whom Moses and the law and also the prophets wrote.”  (Pretty strong statement for someone whom he only just met, wouldn’t you say?)  Nathanael - naturally - expresses some skepticism.  Philip’s response is not a theological treatise nor some credo.  It is no explanation all but.  He offers a simple invitation – “Come and see.”  

“Come and see.”  

There must have been some magic in that invitation to “come and see.”  There must have been something to look at, once Andrew followed Jesus to where he was staying, and once Nathanael returned with Philip to the place where Jesus was waiting. 

Come and see.  A rather simple invitation.  A clear-cut expectation as to what it will take to transform the life of another.  Come and see. 

Would it be possible for you to issue a similar invitation?  Is there something sufficiently powerful to which you could point? 

I what to propose that the answer to these last questions is the same answer as the answer to my first question this morning.  I also want to propose that you are sufficiently motivated and that it is possible for you to issue a similar invitation.  The invitation and the motivation is the reason you stopped doing whatever else it was that you were doing and decided to join us here.  At some point in your life, you were invited to “Come and see.”  And whatever it was that you saw altered your life and the way you would spend your Sunday mornings. 

So now is the time I want you to say out loud what all too often remains unspoken.  Turn to someone near you.  Or use the chat feature on your computer screen.  Say out loud what it is that has motivated you to spend your day this way.  What is so darn exciting a live-steamed FaceBook video that you would “come and see”?   

I am going to stop talking so you can do that. 

I know that a goodly number of Lutheran folks don’t like it when asked to talk to each other.  I never used to like it either, till Bishop Hanson explained why he so often does it.  “Too many folks in the Church are talked AT, and not enough are TALKING.” he said.  The Church will continue to decline, he said, until more of us are talking – talking about the amazing, wonderful, exciting, noteworthy things that God is doing in our lives.  We don’t need more folks spouting sophisticated theological treatises; we don’t need loud proclamations of credo; we need neighbors who share with neighbor what it is they find in the Church. 

Jesus invites his first disciples to “Come and see.”  Those first disciples invite others with the same words.  What they shared was their version of what you have just shared with one another.  Nothing more; but certainly nothing less. 

Whenever someone does share with me why they come to the church, or why they join us for worship, it is ALWAYS an inspiring, awe producing exchange.  Even the apologetic response, which usually goes something along the lines of - “I don’t know.  There just seems to be something right about it.” makes me aware of the passive way in which the community welcomes us and allows us to feel at home and at ease. 

Whenever someone shares with me, it is ALWAYS an inspiring, awe producing exchange.  My heartbreak is that such sharing does not happen often enough.  I don’t ask….  I don’t give opportunity….  The other person doesn’t want to be put on the spot…..  take your pick.  The result is too few invitations to simply “Come and see.” 

Let’s change that.  Let’s turn it around.  Let’s become more confident in our reasons for being a part of the Community of Christ and above all let’s stop worrying that we need to be able to answer every question or respond to every query.  All we need do is speak of that which we have seen/experienced and have confidence that it is enough.  

“Come and see.”  It was enough for Jesus.  It brought Nathanael into the fold.  Surely it is enough for those whom we encounter.

Amen.

Sunday, January 10, 2021

Sermon - Baptism of Our Lord

 Mark 1:4-11 

I am Baptized! 

Am I safe in assuming that you are already aware of the events which transpired this past Wednesday?  I do realize that we each have our preferred media sources, but the events of Wednesday were sufficiently significant that I hope they were noted in the places you turn for information and commentary.  

Those events changed the world forever.  What happened puts into perspective the plotting and scheming of humanly crafted structures by juxtaposing them with the cosmic actions of the God who created us. 

I am, obviously, not referring to the events which are unlikely to even merit a sidebar in cosmic history.  I am speaking of the Feast Day of the Epiphany.  This past Wednesday we reaffirmed the eternal realities expressed by the visit of the wisemen to the place where the infant Jesus was lying.  

The ELCA Bishops elected in 2019, joined together to offer an online worship service.  Their reminder to the Church was not to become distracted by the noise and chatter of a world too often lured into falsehood and hate.  They encouraged us to see in the events of this past Wednesday an invitation to look to the heavens from whence comes our guiding star. 

This past Wednesday was the Feast Day of the Epiphany of Our Lord.  January 6 will continue to be the day on which Christians will assembly, remember, and commemorate that we may sometimes loose our way God remains active in the heavens and will call into service the stars of the universe in order to guide us to the eternal truth and to the tender compassion of a mother caring for her child. 

Our worship service last Sunday called attention to these things.  We had decided to use the lessons and prayers for Wednesday last Sunday.  We marked the events of the Epiphany in order to acknowledge that there is but one who leads and guides the paths of Christians.  Legends propose that those magi from the east could no longer follow the ways and beliefs of their childhood.  There are stories and traditions which say they abandoned the convictions of their youth and embraced the truths associated with what they had seen and experienced.  

The events of Epiphany present an opportunity for each of us to affirm that it is the star of Bethlehem which will guide us and our journey. 

Today is another feast day – today is the Baptism of Our Lord.  And just as with last week, this day is an invitation to make known what lies at the core of our identity. 

First some perspective.  The baptism experienced by Jesus differs from the baptisms we celebrate in this place, at that font.  While God had other things in mind, the words and the water poured over Jesus’ head were little more than a symbol of one’s desire to purify their hearts and their way of living.  John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance.  It was a choice to do the things which would please God, to set aside selfish and self-serving aspirations. 

The baptism we celebrate in this place is not a baptism of repentance.  It is a sacrament of inclusion.  When we baptize, we are announcing that God has given the one baptized a new name and new identity.  A Christian baptism is a baptism into the death and resurrection of Jesus. 

This coming Wednesday, a group of us are going to start a seven-session study of Martin Luther’s Small Catechism.  Before we get into the five parts of the Catechism, there are a few things we need to remember and discuss.  Among them is the timing of baptism.  When ought followers of Jesus be baptized? 

In the days immediately after Jesus’ resurrection, persons were baptized on the spot.  The Ethiopian eunuch didn’t even know the name of Jesus and a few minutes (perhaps hours) later he sees a pool of water and asked to be baptized.  In the first and second centuries, baptism came at the end of a three-year process of catechesis and spiritual discernment.  The final forty days of which would overlap with the fasting and praying and acts of charity associated with the Lenten season. 

Our textbook tells us that it was Emperor Justinian I who ordered that every citizen of the Roman Empire was to be baptized.  This happens somewhere around the end of the 5th century. 

Obviously, I somewhat agree with Justinian.  I officiate over the baptisms of persons who do not make the request to be baptized and will only know this happened if someone tells them.  It is theologically desirable that each child be made aware of the identity given to them by the same God who knitted them together in the womb.  This is who they are – they are a child of God.  And no other claims on their identity will erase or erode the identity God has bestowed upon them. 

Do not doubt that I will continue to baptize every citizen of our community of faith. 

But I am not so blind in my convictions that I will fail to realize that the pressure exerted on one’s God-given identity will be trumped by other identities.  

I say that my Christian name is Chris, but I am more likely to talk to you about the meaning of my family name.  I am a Heavner from western North Carolina, whose mother was a descendant of John Teeter Beam.  (As a side bar, have you heard that my work on St Michael’s parish register revealed to me that I am a fifth cousin-once removed of Ann Huffman?  Yep, me and Charles Huffman are blood kin!) 

Other identities I have chosen and are more inclined to discuss than my baptismal identity include being a Tiger fan, being a southerner.  And don’t forget that prior to my being asked to serve as Interim Pastor there was a discussion of my choose to identify as a yellow-dog Democrat. 

The identities which we choose and choose to feed become the stronger animals in the pen.  And while baptizing infants is a powerful affirmation that nothing they can do will ever separate them from the love of God, those baptized in this conviction will only grow into an understanding of what it means if they are encouraged and nurtured and reminded and able to see the example of those around them. 

Every time there is a baptism in this place the gathered congregation promises to support that child in its growth of faith.  Every time.  Now ask yourself to place in the scales the number of times you have spoken to the one baptized about the meaning of baptism in your life – as contrasted with – the number of conversations about what it means to be a conservative or a liberal. 

When we baptize at this font, we promise to teach the one being baptized the 10 Commandments, the Apostles’ Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer.  Let’s just take the first of those.  Most of you are at home.  In the margins of your bulletin write down the 10 Commandments. 

There are Lutherans in Germany who are beginning to ponder whether we ought to baptize babies.  In their experience, the identities we are encouraged to form in youth and emerging adulthood have proven to be the stronger in determining one’s life-long convictions.  If the community of Christ is unable to assist the individual to grow into that God-given identity, then why would we pretend it is the most significant?  If we ourselves are going to do more to encourage those other identities are we not making a mockery out of the ritual which has previously united Christians? 

The Feast Day of the Epiphany, this past Wednesday, was Christianity’s announcement to the world that no earthly events can prevent the God of the heavens from revealing the path wisemen are going to follow. 

The Baptism of Our Lord is the Feast which asks us whether the identity given to us through our baptism is the single most significant aspect of who we are and how we will live our lives. 

These weeks are challenging.  They are fraught with apprehension and fear.  These weeks will determine our future. 

Amen.

 

Sunday, January 3, 2021

Sermon - Epiphany

 Matthew 2:1-12 

                                                Not a Private Matter 

It is always a delicate thing, to gauge how new parents want you to approach their child.  Some are eager for you to take them in your arms; sometimes so that they can capture a photo for posting on social media.  Others find gentle ways to remind you that even your clothing may have irritants which could trigger skin reactions or cause respiratory problems.  

Children are a precious gift.  And each of us arrives at our own level of comfort with regard to others handling, holding, or feeding.   Way too often, the assumption is made that a baby is a public invitation to offer advice or comment.  All too seldom, we treat children as if they were public property; forgetting that mothers and daddies quite often want everyone to leave them and their off spring alone. 

I wonder, in re-considering Matthew’s story of the visit of the three wisemen, what sort of thoughts or feelings might have been running through the minds of Mary and Joseph.  They are in their own home, minding their own business, when these strangers from the east came knocking on the door.  It is only in Luke’s gospel that Jesus is born in a barn.  Here, in Matthew, Jesus is quite comfortable with his mother and father in the “house.”  (Check out verse 11 if you have never noticed this divergence from Luke’s more popular recounting of the birth.)  Of course, it is entirely possible that the visit of these learned men comes days, weeks, or perhaps even months after Jesus’ birth.  These “astrologers,” most likely having come to Israel from Persia, come to the place where Mary is staying and assume that they have every right in the world to be there.  Every right to consider the baby’s first days a public event. 

And, I guess you would have to say, that they do. 

The visit of the Magi is Matthew’s way of letting us know that this child has significance beyond what it is that individual believers choose to believe about him.  The visit of these learned men exposes Jesus as something more than the cute little first-born of Mary and Joseph.  While this child may go on to become a powerful preacher and do amazing things on the way to his execution and eventual resurrection, his significance is not dependent upon those actions of his adult life.  This child’s impact on the world begins at the moment of his birth.  They come, and their arrival makes it clear that the birth of this baby is an event which has implications for the whole of God’s creation.  They, and all the world, has a right to be there.  Because of this birth, life on earth will never be the same again. 

We have allowed the story of Jesus’ birth to follow the path so often taken when we speak of religious life in general.  We have sat passively to one side while Jesus’ birth is turned into some privatized event or feeling.  As with the whole of Christian faith, we have begun to think of it as a matter of individual consequence – something which has meaning only because of what we do on our own when we are all alone. 

However, the birth of Jesus is not this kind of an event.  Maybe if we only had Luke’s version, where a poetic mother speaks of the lifting up of those or low degree.  Perhaps if the only parts of the story to be told were Zachariah’s solitude experience in the temple or the moving of Elizabeth’s fetus.  Maybe then we would be somewhat justified in thinking of this birth as some cute and quaint event affecting a few traveling peasants.  But there is more to the story.  Moreover, these other parts make us aware that the birth of Jesus is not something which we can choose to acknowledge or choose to ignore.  The birth of Jesus is not that kind of an event. 

A star appears in the east.  Learned men from a foreign land observe this star.  They come to pay homage to the king whose birth the cosmos has announced.  They know that this birth isn’t something of consequence only for those who happen to be living in the small villages on the banks of the Jordan.  The ruler of the universe presses the heavens into service.  The one who made the stars is announcing a birth which has implications for us all. 

And, so, these visitors come.  And they barge in.  And they have no regard for Mary’s privacy.  They realize that this birth belongs to them, too.  The retelling of their story is an announcement that it has implications for everyone else. 

We tend to allow the birth of Jesus to reinforce the mistaken notion that religion is a private matter.  We have moved the experience of God out of that which is communal and carefully stored it in the category of things which are between me and God and no one else.  It is common, in our day, to speak as if God has significance only for those who choose to call upon Him in prayer, praise and thanksgiving.  We have been hoodwinked into believing that God is a factor only if I choose Him to be.  The story of Epiphany is a reminder that what has happened has happened because of what God has chosen to do.  Whether we choose to believe or not – the action remains the same.  God has come into the world.  The creator of the cosmos has made use of the heaven’s stars in order to say to the whole of creation “I have come.”  There is nothing private about this.  There is nothing left to the whimsicalness of human reaction. 

Governments and political systems remain relevant for only as long as the population supports them.  Ideologies run their course and are replaced by the next fad.  What happened in Bethlehem isn’t that kind of an event.  These events remain relevant even if all of its devotees were to fall away. 

I am as caught up as any in the struggle to understand my faith in the context of a shrinking world.  I don’t have answers to those who ask why the teachings of Islam or Judaism should have a lesser impact upon my life than the words of Jesus.  But the story we gather this day to retell is one which says to us that these images and these occurrences have significance beyond the importance we, as individuals, may choose to assign to them.  God is the actor.  God is the one who decided the course of human history.  I struggle to understand my faith in the context of a shrinking world because while I respect what God has done in other places at other times, I must not overlook the significance of what God did in Bethlehem. 

When a cute little baby is born, the mother has her right to privacy.  She needs time alone so she can nurse and care for the child.  The baby born to Mary needed that kind of support too, but his life also had another dimension to it.  God had already decided what the birth of this child would mean. 

We are at the beginning of our Church year.  During the weeks and months to come we will have opportunity to learn, from what Jesus says and from what he does, exactly how our lives and our world have been changed.  God has acted.  Things are going to be different. 

Amen.