John 1: 1-18

Grace and peace from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen

I certainly can’t speak for everyone here, but in my experience this week: Christmas has been a whirlwind. There was so much to do! There were many lists; shopping, wrapping, decking all of the halls! Meal planning, laundry, sweeping, dusting, vacuuming, to name just a few of the things I did multiple times before Christmas. 

There were many trips to and from the airport to collect family members passing through, as well as more than one trip to the grocery store to pick up forgotten or last minute items.

And then there was all of the lovely Advent build-up. 

We had Wednesday night services every week, a digital Advent calendar, a Christmas concert from Chris, and the extensive planning for Christmas eve. Bulletins were printed, folded, and prepared. We had costumes and a rehearsal for a Christmas pageant. The choir practiced many times, as well. 

It was indeed, a whirlwind. 

It seems like once all of the presents were unwrapped, the dishes had been done, and the trash had been taken out, that I could finally sit down and enjoy the spirit of the season. But, as I turned on the radio to listen to Christmas music, the stations had already stopped playing them!

Friends, I must say: it is still Christmas! Just because the world has seemed to move on, it doesn’t mean we should, too.

Those who came to church on Christmas day got to hear Rev. Deacon Pat preach on part of this mornings Gospel. Truth be told, I was worried to have to follow his sermon, especially on such a similar text to what was shared on Wednesday.

Deacon Pat highlighted the many ways that God has chosen to engage with God’s people throughout scripture, and posing that in the incarnation, God with us, God gets involved in a personal way; taking on human flesh as the baby Jesus.

I have the benefit of an additional 4 verses that Deacon Pat wasn’t assigned, where we will spend most of our time this morning.

The Gospel of John is one of the most fascinating books of the New Testament. Full of imagery, allegory, and metaphor, the purpose of this Gospel is made clear: so that all might believe in Jesus by the works that are recounted. Because of this, there is no story of virgin birth, shepherds, camels, or wise men. 

In the opening verses, the author stretches their words back to creation, the Genesis narrative to unify this story: the story of Jesus with God’s ongoing activity in the world. Then, linking together verses 1 and 14, this word or logos of God takes up flesh and dwells among us. 

And it is from this word of God, that we receive all good things. “Grace upon grace”, the author declares.

There is one other piece of the story that I wanted to lift up. The last verse of our Gospel this morning says that “it is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known”. The word used there for heart is more appropriately translated as bosom, and only appears at one other place in John’s Gospel: where the beloved disciple is reclining and resting at the last supper: on the bosom Jesus. This is a very personal, affectionate, and loving posture. It is caring, supportive, and not unlike the way newborn babies are held, cared for, and nursed by their mothers. 

——

Going back to the opening of my homily this morning: the chores, the whirlwind, were you able to hear any of this grace or truth in that? Did my Christmas experience resonate with you?

Perhaps you were also busy with putting on Christmas that you might have missed the ways that God was revealing God’s self in the whirlwind. 

Or, maybe you are one of the many people for whom Christmas is a difficult holiday. Maybe you are far from your family, either location wise, or emotionally. Or maybe it isn’t a safe place for you or your loved ones, so you have un-anchored yourself from the traditions of your youth and are creating a new normalcy for you.

Wherever you find yourself around Christmas time, we have the chance today to come back to the center of the Christmas message: that God is making God’s self known: both as a tiny, fragile baby in Bethlehem, as well as in the ordinary and unremarkable ways in your life, today. 

While we are still very much in the Christmas season, it can be so easy to put away the feeling of hope, and wonder, and move on with our lives as work and school resume.

My challenge for you this morning is to find a way to rest in the bosom of Christ. To take a few moments this day and to remind yourself that in the midst of this season, God is present.

John’s Gospel is clear that there is darkness in the world, and that the darkness is real, and present. But that darkness isn’t the most powerful thing. That the logos of God, the word of God, the light of God, is still shining into all of the dark places in our lives.

And maybe you find yourself so close to God this day that you can help illuminate the way for others. As John is pointing to the light, may you also shine in the lives of others. 

We get to hear the message once more of a weary world; with political unrest, uneasy travel, and family dynamics. We hear of a crowded, busy town; with no room for a young family. And that this baby that has been born is for the whole world, and that his birth, death, and resurrection are so that all people may come to know and believe in him.

Rest in the bosom of the Lord.
Amen

Waiting has always been hard for me. Patience is a virtue that many are given, and it wouldn’t be very high on my prayer priority list. But this was made more bearable every year around Christmas when my twin brother and I would begin to make our Christmas lists. Starting as soon as Halloween ended, he and I would diligently list and describe which presents we wanted from each relative, and made sure to each ask for separate things to optimize the Christmas haul. 



Back to School Prayer:

“Holy God, source of wisdom and grace, you know the prayers of my heart, yet it helps me to write them anyway.

It’s the beginning of the school year, God, and my heart is full of prayers.

For the students.
For the students who are beginning a new school year, give them curious minds, critical thinking skills, the ability to tell right from wrong and the courage to act with integrity. Help them to learn deep truths about this world and about people so that they may be good citizens for the good of the whole.

For the students who struggle with learning, give them patience, confidence, and grace. Help them to know the many ways that you’ve gifted them, even if reading, math, or memorizing don’t come easy. For the students for whom learning does come easily, help them with the gift of humility. May they all know enough challenges to keep them sharp, strong, and grateful and enough successes to keep them engaged, confident, and proud of themselves.

For the students who are lonely, hurt, unsafe, unwell, anxious or depressed. Breathe your peace and health into them; may they be supported by people who understand them and love them.

For the teachers.
For the brave souls who wake each morning at the crack of dawn to educate other people’s children and love them like their own. It’s a tough job, God, please keep them from growing weary and cynical. Wrap them in your love, your peace, your wisdom, and your goodness. Help them to see the many ways that their gifts inspire learning, creativity, and compassion. And, please make sure they get enough good coffee, chocolate, and support from parents and administrators to keep ‘em going.

For those who support learning.
For the bus drivers, crossing guards, school safety officers, administrators and aids. Bless those who keep our children safe. For cafeteria workers, nurses, and helpers. Bless those who help our children stay healthy. For librarians, music and art teachers, counselors, therapists, chaplains, volunteers and administrators. Bless those who tend to our children’s hearts and souls.

For those who grieve.
For those grieving the loss of children. This day can be so hard for them as first-day-of-school pictures populate their social media feed. Wrap them in your love and grace, Gracious God.

This is a new school year.
This is a new school year. May we all meet this time of year with renewed commitment to our individual callings. May we all continue to grow in wisdom, knowledge, curiosity, humility, confidence, and compassion even when we are not in school. Help us to look toward the outskirts, toward the margins for people in need of compassion and generosity. May we never stop including those who sit on the edge of the playground. May we never stop sharing our pencils and sandwiches with those in need. May we never cease to see your Spirit and goodness in each person we meet.

I pray in the name of Jesus, our great teacher, prophet and Savior.

Amen.”

From the Rev. Carrie Schofield-Broadbent who is the Canon for Transition Ministry & Congregational Development in the Episcopal Diocese of Central New York, September 6, 2018.”

Also:

“It’s always the same.
My prayer on this first day of school.
It’s that everyone finds someone to eat lunch with (or at least near.) But actually, I want more. I want everyone to have an actual friend–someone who delights in their arrival each day, who misses them when they aren’t there, who shows up. There are so many looking for that friend–quick! before it seems like all the social circles close. The circles close so fast that the slow movers get left behind. Also, what if no one gets shot this year? That’d be amazing. If everyone could learn something academic along the way, that’d be over the top.”
-Rev. Jodi Houge
”

May God bless you all as the seasons change, and that whatever new beginnings you are finding that they, too, find you well.

Dan Arvid Nelson

Thoughts on John 12: 1-8

There is something to the nature of smells. Admittedly, I know very little of the olfactory glands, or how the brain responds to familiar nasal stimuli; but I do know that there are certain smells that make my mind wander.

I love the smell of the first cool fall breeze coming in through an open window. It reminds me of a season of renewal, and newness that I associate with the school year.

I love the smell of a bold espresso in the morning. It wakes me up, triggering my mind to full alert before I even taste the first sip.

I love the smell fresh dirt in cool earth. I feel like I am planting flowers in my mother’s planter boxes before Mother’s Day, and the rich fragrance that nutritious soil brings.

The Gospel lesson this weekend is about one very specific smell. Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus, uses this moment leading up to Holy Week to anoint Jesus’ feet. There is great symbolism here: the anointing before burial, the shrewish Judas wishing to skim from the sale of the nard, and Martha is still bustling about to serve.

Mary’s offering to Jesus is is one of deep humility. We aren’t told that they are wealthy, and yet the gift of the nard is valued at 300 denarii. Mary even uses her hair, a symbol of her femininity to wipe away the dust, dirt, and earth from Jesus’ feet.

Image the smell of a rich perfume in a small, stuffy, warm room. There would be no escaping it.

My favorite part of this story is the parallel between this pericope and the previous chapter, where Lazarus is raised from the dead by Jesus. Martha objects to the people rolling away the stone. Her objection is a reasonable one: “He has been dead for four days, and he stinketh” (KJV).

I think there is much to the idea of aroma and the power of God, made known in Jesus. Mary knows that this moment is significant, and the others don’t necessarily see it. She takes the most valuable thing she has, likely what was going to be for her formerly dead brother Lazarus, and anoints Jesus with it, marking him for burial. Everyone in the room would smell like this rich nard.

Paul writes on this theme in his Second Letter to the Corinthians, paraphrased as us being bearers of the aroma of Christ everywhere we go.

May we live so much like Jesus that we carry his scent with us.

Dan Arvid Nelson

Luke 15

My Wayward Son

Good morning, faithful few.

In preparing for this blog, the most pressing thing that came to mind was a one-off joke I made while out to brunch with a dear friend when we were in graduate school. It was a play on her name, Carrie, and a popular song by rock-and-roll legends Kansas.

But what is closer to the narrative given to us by Jesus in the text this week (Luke 15) is a story of three men. The first is a father who divides his land into two sections, one of each of his sons. The other two are the sons, one of whom sells the land and “squanders” the profit in the traditional sense: rich food, alcohol, drugs, partying, etc; the second of whom (the older one) dutifully works the land.

Traditionally, the parable story focuses on the father’s love, graciously accepting the younger son back when famine strikes the land, and he returns in shame to the welcoming love of the father. This is a wonderful story, and one that needs to be preached and embodied in the lives of Christians today.

I would like to focus on the stubbornness of the older son, and the nature of the father’s response to him. The older son lambasts the younger, reminding the father of all of the ways that the younger has wronged the family. This is a tale all too common among families today. Siblings unnecessarily compete for the affection of their parents, without realizing that parents can actually love each child equally.

If only the older son, as well as those of us who are still plugged in to organized religion, could see the way that the father loves both sons equally. If only we could register that to love one is to not discredit the other. This is the tension in #blacklivesmatter. Too often do white, conservative, heterosexual Christians experience that phrase as “I, therefore, do not matter.” What they fail to realize is that society treats them as the father treats the older son, “You have been with me from the beginning.”

The invitation, therefore, is to celebrate those who have been systemically lost for no other reason than historic racism and a broken, sinful society.

Dan Arivd (Miglets) Nelson 

Spring is a time of renewal. As the snow melts and the days grow longer, everywhere around displays signs of new life. Many of my friends here in Minneapolis have begun to start seed beds indoors, and will plant the sprouts outside once the chance of freezing slims.
My household was no different. Last Saturday, with great care and caution we seeded a variety of vegetables to put in the garden later this spring. However, the stir-crazy terrier decided to eat destroy the plant beds in our absence the other night.
None the less, new life begins in the Spring.
The Gospel lesson this week finds Jesus sharing a parable. He tells of a fig tree that hasn’t bore any fruit for several years. One man wants to cut the tree down. “Good riddence!”
Jesus gives a different idea in the story. He advises to nurture the tree. Give it rich soil, fertilizer, water, and sunlight. Then, look to see if it fruits.

I love this lesson. Many times, we can be so wrapped up in our output, productivity, and busy-ness, that we don’t take the time to nurture the soil that we are planted in. Then, we have the nerve to wonder why we aren’t bearing fruit!

This week, may we take a few moments a day to surround our roots with things that nurture us and bring us life; whether it is laughter with close friends, rich food, or even the sitting still in the warm sunshine. Remember, you cannot bear good fruit if you aren’t surrounded by good soil.

Jesus loves you, drink lots of water.

-Dan Miglets-Nelson

First given at Christ Episcopal Church, Woodbury, MN

Lectionary text: Luke 3: 15-17, 21-22

I always cry at baptisms. I have for as long as I can remember. I am not even certain when it started. Maybe it is the tiny, white gowns, placed on infants who have little say in the matter. Or, the resolve of a teenager, or an adult, who makes a vow to live a life of a disciple of Jesus.

It could be the candles. I am a sucker for a good candle. Or, the imagery of a seashell, often given to baptismal candidates, echoing the practice of the early church.

Or maybe it is the music. In the congregation where I was raised in north Texas, the song I was there to hear your Borning Cry was the automatic, go-to hymn of the day anytime we had a baptism.

I cry at baptisms. And I am not ashamed to admit it.

Friends in Christ, peace to you, on this the feast day of the baptism of our Lord, Jesus.

Our gospel lesson this morning, written in Luke, begins on John the Baptists prophecy, and ends with Jesus being baptized. What is unique about Luke’s telling of the story is the writer does not share where Jesus is baptized, or more surprisingly, by whom. All we hear is that Jesus is in among a crowd of other recent baptismal candidates. 

Before we discuss what baptism is and means for us, let us take a moment to explore what baptism is not.

Many more charismatic traditions will tout baptism as being simple “fire insurance”; that once, and if you are baptized you will be safe from the eternal fires of hell. They also stress the agency of the baptismal candidate to choose when, how, and where they will receive this rite.

In our tradition, baptism is one of the two sacraments offered by God through the church. Sacraments, to remind us, are the means in which grace, sanctification, and forgiveness expressed in the church’s liturgy.

At its simplest understanding, in baptism, God claims us as God’s own, and we are marked with the cross of Christ, and sealed by the power of the Holy Spirit, forever.

Today we celebrate the first action of Jesus that is shared by all four gospel writers. It is fitting, then, how early in the calendar year that it finds us.

Many of us in this room were baptized as infants. Our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, weird cousins, and sponsors or Godparents presented us before a church, parish, cathedral, or ward, and made promises on our behalf.

There is a promise made at baptism. The promise is to renounce all evil and sin; to confess faith in the triune God through the saying of the Creed, to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, breaking of the bread, and prayers; to persevere in resisting evil, and whenever we fall into sin, to repent and return to the Lord. The promise is also to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, and to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.

While this is an incredibly encompassing promise, it hasn’t always been expressed this clearly. In modern baptism, the same declaration is used that was used in the early church. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen”. Once complete, the candidates were expected, encouraged, and coached through living lives as disciples of Jesus, the messiah.

In our Gospel lesson today, John is asked if he is the messiah, the one for whom the people have been waiting. John assures them that he is not, nor is he fit to even untie the messiah’s sandal. Furthermore, John states that while he uses water, when the messiah comes, the messiah will bring the Holy Spirit, and fire.

I think the most important piece of today’s story is the detail that is not included in our story. The verses that have been left out of this message is that John isn’t present at Jesus’ baptism, for John has already been imprisoned by King Herod.

So then, who baptized Jesus? The answer is both profound and simple. Jesus was baptized by the same thing that you were: the Holy Spirit. We know that when Jesus was baptized, the Holy Spirit appeared in the form of a dove. Not only this, a voice came down from heaven saying, “You are my son, the beloved; with you, I am well pleased.”

Friends, I invite us to reflect for a moment on how our understanding of baptism can be refocused when we expand our conception of baptism to being this: God reaching down from heaven and claiming us as God’s own.

How it matters not how great or grand the cathedral was where our baptisms occurred, or how wonderful and beautifully the choir sang. No, to only focus on what promise was being declared by those who love us on our behalf, and then the words that God assures us are true, “This is my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Priests do not baptize people. Priests are invited to declare the promise of God, the means of grace made known in this sacrament as seen in Jesus’s life.

This is a gorgeous manifestation of the kingdom of heaven, that all are invited into God’s love and grace. No matter what nationality, what tribe, language, or heritage one belongs to. That this is a superseding promise, a promise of God’s radical love and acceptance. My beloved. The one who pleases me.

In baptism, God claims us as God’s own, and marks us as beloved, forever and ever.

I always cry at baptisms. 

… and the livin’s easy.

Hello faithful few. I hope that you are enjoying the long days and warm weather, wherever you may be.

I wanted to post an update regarding how things are going in my life.

Short answer: Well.

Long answer: Super well.

I am in the middle of writing the curriculum for our Vacation Bible School: God’s Cosmic Creation. We decided we wanted to do a space based VBS, but couldn’t find a kit curriculum to buy. So, we decided to create our own. I am excited/terrified.

Otherwise, things are going well. I am working to recruit more Sunday School teachers, as well as figure out curriculum for the coming school year for both Sunday and Wednesday programing.

My role with Inside Out Network is also ongoing. Last month, I attended the largest prison chaplaincy conference in the country, hosted by Wheaton College. I am hoping to continue ongoing progress across the state of Illinois.

Regarding personal matters, I might be relocating to Saint Paul soon. Nothing is wrong in Minneapolis, but roommates have life changes, and I must respond accordingly.

I hope to travel a bit this summer. I will be in Chicago again at the end of July, and potentially in Texas in the middle of August. I also might end up vacationing in Boston.

Otherwise, Happy 4th of July. Please remember that in Christ we are free, and then we are called to make others free.

Peace,

Dan Arvid Nelson

 

Hello faithful few,

It has been several months since I last shared anything of quality, outside of my Instagram. I wanted to update everyone on where I am at after my move to Minneapolis.

I recently came on board as the Children & Youth Minister at Christ (Episcopal) Church in Woodbury, MN. This is a 27-hour/week position, and a great way to serve the broader church in a way that was formative to me in the process of discerning my initial call.

I also am serving as the Director of Subscription Services for Inside Out Network, a prison re-entry tool for returning citizens and service providers across the state of Illinois. This was started by my former colleagues Ben Blobaum and Fred Nelson, formerly Under the Door Ministries. I am thrilled to be able to serve in such meaningful ministers, and hopefully do my part in reducing the rate of recidivism.

Otherwise, God continues to bless me as I find my way in life. I am joyfully reflecting as the sun is shining and the weather is above 40 degrees here in the Twin Cities.

I look forward to sharing more as life develops.

Peace,
Dan Arvid Nelson

 

It has been a whirlwind of a year.

One year ago I was settling in to Chicago to start a church. This week, I have moved back to Minneapolis to discern what is next for me.

My contract ended at Redeemer last month, and I am incredibly proud of the traction that the church has made for their third location.

When I started, we had a launch team and an idea; when I left we had monthly preview services, weekly come-back events, and the framework for a core team. God has moved in wonderful ways over that past year.

What is next for me? I am glad you asked. I am in discernment about which direction my career will go. As for now, I am in Minneapolis, enjoying the fall weather, and looking for work.

Thanks be to God,
Dan Nelson