History Rhymes, Grace Repeats

Isaiah 11:2-9

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 his 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.

---

A friend suggested a reprise
of a sermon I gave years ago
She called it a rap, but I’m not that cool.
It was a poem, at best,
it read like a slam.
I thought I’d give it another go.

But history never repeats itself
It often rhymes, they say.
So I won’t do a re-run, that would be lame,
But I’ll try something new
– in the same vein –
about this baby who’s on the way.

I’m no Andrea Gibson or Maya Angelou
No Shel Silverstein or Doctor Seuss
I’m a preacher whose preached Christmas, 24 years plus one
So something a bit different seemed like something more fun.

I could preach and pontificate, I’ve done that before
I could rant, rail, and scare – you can get that next door.
Maybe this will inspire both your heart and your headAnd keep you from dreaming of sugar plums and bed.

The last time I did this –
rhymed my way through Christmas Eve –
My youngest – Max – had just been born
My oldest – Jack – wasn’t yet 3.

So much has changed, since then, for sure
18 years back, where’d you do Christmas Eve?
Think of what’s different in your life and our world
Did you celebrate something? Or have something to grieve?

And how have things been in just the last year?
More joys than sorrows, I pray.
As we gather again, with our candles and carols,
Are you counting your blessings? Or just surviving the day?

Whatever it is, this time around,
I hope God meets you in this place
That’s the message of Christmas: Immanuel – God with us
And among us, come what may.

And again, history doesn’t repeat itself
But they say it often rhymes
That seems to be true where faith is concerned
And how God shows up in real time

So let’s see what rhymes this Christmas Eve
Let’s turn back the clock to hear
Something old that could be new again
If we let God’s love come near.

The history of faith’s people
began in a garden long ago
Where God breathed life into dust and bones
But God’s children just couldn’t say “no.”

They refused to keep their hands off
of a tree that promised lies
They heard God in the sound of the evening breeze
And hid from angry eyes

But God’s eyes of righteous judgement
Envisioned hope in equal portion
The Creator could see, beyond their Sin,
A future of salvation.

Soon there was that awful flood
but God saved the family of Noah
and made a promise to love without end
And sealed it with a bow.

Then there was that Babel tower –
Humanity tried to reach the divine
Their sins of Greed and Pride and Power
Got them scattered far and wide

Generations later
God’s Chosen Ones were slaves set free
Lost and afraid, but guided,
By clouds and fire their eyes could see

They were passed over and spared
And they crossed through the Red Sea
They wandered the wilderness,
And they followed God’s lead

And there were tablets and tabernacles
Serpents, wonders and signs
All proof of God’s presence
The same, but different, each time

Because history doesn’t repeat itself,
But like God’s grace, it rhymes.

And across generations this history rhymed
As God’s people mastered losing their way
They counted their sins and hid from their God
Letting judgement and shame win the day

But God was never into just counting our Sin
For the sake of proving us wrong
God was all about leading with mercy and love
So we’d make a world that sounds like a song

A song of hope for those with none
A song of faith when fear has won
A song of peace when wars still rage
A song of love that might turn the page

A song that rhymes, not repeats, in beautiful ways
that started anew with a Son
Who was born so we’d see just what grace could do
when we walk in the way of God’s love

Because it’s not about you and it’s not about me
It’s all about “us” and about “them”
It’s about how – together – we’re part of this plan
To love one and all to the end

Because God may still show up in rainbows and clouds
In signs, in miracles, in dreams
But Jesus showed up to show God revealed
in people like you and like me

We’re alike and we’re different in beautiful ways
We live and we move and we breathe
We walk common ground, we fear, long, and need
But still forget who are neighbors can be

Like Jesus they don’t have a safe place to land
Like his was, their world isn’t safe
Like Jesus they rely on the kindness of strangers
Like him they’re dependent on grace

He’s the gay kid that’s bullied
He knows about poor, single moms
He’s the Dad with no papers
He hides underground from bombs

He shelters-in-place in the classroom
He takes cover beneath pews
He’s on both sides of our border
And he’s exhausted by our news

His nights aren’t as silent
As we pretend they should be
His future’s not certain
And he looks to you and to me

In Jesus God shows up, draws close, comes near
In Christ, God comes down from on high
In Jesus we’re called to do more of the same:
To get off our cloud and no longer deny

That grace isn’t just ours,
it’s ours to share at all costs
This Gospel’s only good news
When it’s shared with the lost

And God knows what it is to be utterly lost
This boy showed up and got lost on the Cross
He died there for our sake, so that we could see
What “once and for all” actually means.

If you need it today, then take it, for sure
If you’re hungry then, please, have your fill
But let this grace find, free, and change you
until your life overflows with goodwill

Goodwill not just for men, but for women, too
And for everyone else in-between.
Goodwill for the ones who are broken and hurting
For the hopeless, the loveless, the mean.

So, what might make Christmas rhyme once again?
We can’t repeat the coming of this Child
But if God stepped into skin once way back then
God can surely take root in our lives

Because we’ve seen it time after time before
history rhymes it doesn’t repeat
So let God show up this Christmas, once more
Making us Love’s voice, hands, and feet.

Amen. Merry Christmas.

Toilet Paper, Payback, and Christ the King

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 not 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, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

---

In fifth grade, my house was toilet papered. Waking up that morning, it looked like there had been a blizzard—but only at my house. And the worst part is it took a solid two hours to clean up.

We got word the perpetrators were coming back, so my brother made a plan. We hid in the bushes with the hose, firecrackers, and an air horn at the ready. As soon as the first roll hit the tree, we unleashed it all. It was some of the sweetest revenge I’d ever tasted.

But here’s the thing—I wanted more. Now I am not proud to admit this, but for the next two years, I was a serial toilet-paperer. I went TP-ing with my friends every chance I got. I don’t think to this day my parents know this. Finally, one fateful night a police officer stopped our fun and we dropped our rolls of toilet paper for good. He could have called our parents, ordered community service. But he just made us clean up the mess, giving us mercy we didn’t deserve.

If I asked you what the most deadly addiction is, you might say smoking, alcohol, fentanyl, or maybe Facebook. But no, it’s none of that. This addiction is far more common and not a substance or drug at all. The deadliest addiction is revenge. That’s the argument put forth by James Kimmel Jr., a professor at Yale. He says nearly every form of violence childhood bullying, domestic violence, police brutality, war—begins with someone convinced they’re a victim seeking justice.

And for the first time in human history, we have some scientific insight into how we can stop this deadly addiction. Revenge is that feeling, sometimes subtle, sometimes intense, to return the pain someone first gave you. Through scans and research, Kimmel and his team have found that a brain on revenge looks a lot like a brain addicted to drugs.Grievances of any kind—real or imagined, disrespect, betrayal, shame— they all light up the brain’s pain center.

Our brains don’t like that and so it quickly starts reaching for pleasure.

We could reach for anything after we’ve been wronged—a tub of ice cream, an intense workout, a few drinks—and those might help for a moment. But the uncomfortable truth is that we humans get the most satisfying pleasure from hurting the very person who hurt us. It’s not our best trait.

Neuroscientists have shown that when someone wrongs us and we even imagine retaliation, the brain’s reward centers wake up. The parts tied to craving and habit-building fire just like they do when addicts feel stressed or see something associated with getting a fix. Revenge isn’t just an idea; it’s an addictive action. Yet, unlike other addictions, revenge is addiction turned outward. Instead of harming ourselves to get a fix, we harm someone else. And like any addiction, the thrill is short-lived, the pain returns leaving one feeling even worse, and the craving only grows.

Perhaps you know how this feels. As a kid, it’s the punch you throw when the roughhousing gets too rough. In marriage, it’s the sentence you say that you know will cut deeper than any knife. As an adult, it’s the desire to slash the tires of the buffoon who cut off everyone in the school pickup line. We all know that impulse. It’s part of being human.

And it certainly isn’t limited to individuals. Right now, it feels like our whole nation is running on it. Childish name-calling, dangerous threats, the endless churn of angry rhetoric: vengeance seems to be the most animating force in public life. It shows up across the political spectrum, where the goal is clearly not about solving problems but more about scoring points or making “the other side” hurt.

I see it too in the Christian Nationalist movement, which grows out of a perceived assault on Christianity, by which they mean a very narrow version of Christianity defined as white, straight, and evangelical. The response is to attack back through laws and power in public life. We’ve built a society—a kind of kingdom—where hurt is expected to be met with greater hurt, and the loudest voices insist the only way to win is to strike back harder.

Christ the King Sunday, which began 100 years ago today, was created to celebrate a king and kingdom that operates in the opposite way. If there was ever someone innocent who endured great harm—someone who could have, maybe even should have, returned the pain—was it not Jesus Christ, the King of the Jews? The one crucified between criminals while the very people who once followed him stood by and watched?

Surely he had every right to act with vengeance, to call down the wrath of God, to save himself from that cross and rule like every other king tries to do. That’s exactly what the crowd urged him to do. Three times people said to Jesus, “Save yourself.” It’s what we humans know best.

But that’s not the kind of King Jesus is. His first words from the cross were not a declaration of innocence or a plea for pity, but a favor from his Father: “Forgive them.” It’s fascinating that Jesus speaks to God in this moment. He doesn’t say I forgive you to the ones nailing, flogging, and scoffing at him. That wouldn’t have made any sense.

They didn’t think they were doing anything wrong. In their minds, they were doing exactly what they should be doing: executing a sentence of execution for a man charged with treason.

And here’s the part that always stops me: Jesus isn’t only speaking about the people at the foot of the cross. His words reach beyond that moment.

It’s as if Jesus is saying, Father, please forgive them—because I already have. And the “them,” the object of that forgiveness, is me and you. Jesus came preaching and presenting a different way to be in the world, an alternate kingdom to reign over our lives—one of mercy, kindness, forgiveness—and we killed him for it.

And every time we long for revenge, every time we save ourselves, every time we reject mercy, we put him back on that cross, crucifying the voice that tells us there’s another way.

Yet just like he did then, he says to us again, “Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they are doing.” God, in Jesus, meets our violence with grace; our anger with forgiveness; our revenge with reconciliation. Always and only.

The way of Jesus and his kingdom is what neuroscience now tells us is the best way to stop the dangerous, deadly pull of revenge: forgiveness. Research shows that even picturing yourself forgiving someone triggers something powerful: the brain’s pain center settles, the craving for revenge loosens, and the part of your mind that helps you think clearly and choose wisely lights back up.

Forgiveness is not saying what happened was okay or pretending the wound never happened.

It means letting God begin loosening revenge’s grip on your mind but more importantly on your heart. In other words, forgiveness acts like a kind of wonder drug. It eases the hurt, dead-ends the desire to strike back, and breaks the hold pain has on you.

And best of all, it’s free, always available, and you can take another dose whenever needed.

Try it this week. Call to mind one person who has hurt you and, in prayer, quietly just begin to imagine forgiving them. You don’t have to tell them. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just imagine it, and let Christ the King meet you there.

You can do this. We can do this. We don’t have to keep hurting each other. You don’t have to live with the pain someone else has inflicted on you. We can drop our rolls of toilet paper or whatever your retaliation is, once and for all, and stop the harm being done, big or small.

There is a way out of this addiction and we didn’t need scientific research to prove it.

Christ the King has been showing us how all along, giving us a mercy we don’t deserve.

Amen.