The Gift of Christmas

Isaiah 9:2-7, Psalm 96, Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20

On the Occasion of Christmas Eve, which we celebrated at our friends and neighbors, Peoples' United Methodist Church, after evacuating our worship space due to heavy flood damage.

Friends, this is the Christmas in our church that even the youngest children of our congregation will probably talk about with their grandchildren, years from now.

I want to venture a story with you tonight, that let's say, Mary and Joseph were looking forward to celebrating the birth of their first child in their own home, in familiar surroundings.  Sure, the news of Jesus' coming had been unexpected, but let's say that like all good parents, they did their best to prepare for the new baby.  Joseph was a carpenter and they were a newlywed couple, so we could safely assume the house was probably newly built and filled with well-crafted furnishings, made just for them and their new family.  I would even guess that Jesus had a fine little wooden crib waiting for him, up in their home in the Galilee.  And Mary had probably spent the past several months preparing all sorts of baby clothes and blankets and diapers, and anything else you might need for a first-century nursery.

Dining at home with family and friends, typical first-century home.
Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PikiWiki_Israel_18496_Nazareth_Village.jpg

Photos of re-enacted first-century household life: dining and making textiles.
Source: http://www.100words.ca/?m=201211&paged=2

In such familiar surroundings, I imagine that these expectant parents also thought their folks would come over to bring them casseroles, keep the house tidy and help change diapers those first few days.  Maybe they thought the first people to welcome their new baby and hold him would be Grandma and Grandpa, or maybe Aunt Elizabeth and newborn cousin John.  

Now imagine all that, nursery prepared and all--that right as you were getting ready to celebrate the birth of this child--something BIG happens, that is unavoidable, and you have to leave your home behind.

Where would they go?  And how would they celebrate the birth of that child?

I am going to guess that Mary and Joseph never imagined they would share the birth of their son with sheep and goats, cattle and donkeys, or having a bunch of shepherds fresh out of the fields, or strange travelers from a foreign country showing up, not even with casseroles, but instead with gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  (That is, air freshener and embalming spices, but at least the cash might come in handy?)

And I imagine that even though they had to travel to Bethlehem for this census, that they thought they'd at least be going home relatively soon, say, maybe a few weeks.  At any rate, there's just not that much stuff you can pack up and put on the back of a donkey along with mother and child.  So the news that Herod was coming for them and they would have to flee Egypt for a couple of YEARS, must have really been...well, beyond words.  So much for celebrating a birth as planned!

Well, I'm also going to venture that for those of us who are gathered here tonight, we can kind of relate.

We can relate, right?  A beautiful new church, halls all decked, tree all trimmed, banners up, choir tuned and ready, to celebrate the birth of Jesus--and then something BIG happens.

And yet, most important of all, despite all the disrupted plans and scrambling to make do, then and now--the most important thing to remember in the midst of our human worries, is this:  the gift, the greatest gift, has still been given to us.  God gave us his Son, Jesus Christ, to teach us how to love one another.  It was Jesus that brought together such an unexpected collection of people together in an unexpected place.  And the unusual circumstances and the enormous obstacles they faced together, and the reason for which they did so--only add to the richness of the story of this first Christmas that we tell over and over again, to our children and our children's children.

We might feel we're having a manger experience of our own tonight, but really, we are in the finest room in the inn--anywhere in town!  Here we are surrounded by warmth and comfort, and banners, and advent wreaths, and inside decked halls and there's a place for us, and for the kids, and for the choir, and all of us can celebrate this birth of the Christ child together.  And together, we can say the words of Isaiah, that:

A child has been born for us, a son given to us...and he is named Wonderful Counselor...Prince of Peace.

We have been given so rich a gift this Christmas.  We are surrounded by family and friends and neighbors.  We have been given such extravagant hospitality from our dear friends here at Peoples' Church.  We've been given willing and dedicated volunteers to help make everything better, even in the face of many challenges.  Certainly these last few weeks we've walked in darkness, but we have also seen a great light.

Sure, this Christmas isn't like what we'd planned, but it is still beautiful, and meaningful, perhaps even more meaningful, than if everything had gone according to plan.  And we're not alone; we're with each other, and we're also here among our friends.  And above all, God is with us--Emmanuel; bringing hope, joy, love, and peace to us and to all the world.  May we, like Mary, in the midst of all this excitement and chaos, may we treasure these things in our hearts, on this Christmas night, and always.  Amen.

A World Turned Upside Down

Third Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 35:1-10, Luke 1:46b-55; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

[look these up on biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org]

On the occasion of pipes in the sprinkler system freezing, bursting, and flooding our building.

Sometimes things don’t always go according to plan.

For example, you build a beautiful new church and don’t include a basement, knowing  full well the village water table issues, and not relishing those memories of flood cleanups in the old building…only to have pipes burst and walls of water coming down through the kitchen ceiling.

Ah, cleanup.

There’s also the kinds of plans every church has at Christmas, plans for holiday gatherings and receptions and the meal we were going to host this afternoon; plans for the Cantata next week--I think we were planning on having a prettier sanctuary with a bit more drywall--or at least, just plain dry walls--plans to have the general public and more visitors here in the building and really enjoy our new church home.

Ah, more cleanup!

We scrambled to reschedule some things this weekend, and I really have no doubt that the show will go on next weekend, Cantata and Christmas services alike, even though we’ll be a bit battered and rough-looking.  We are having a sort-of manger-like Christmas here, amongst our piles of things drying out and rescued from the waters and props from Christmas pageants past sitting over here and there.  We’re grateful things weren’t any worse than they are, and grateful for insurance, and so forth, and in the midst of all this, has that old saying occurred to you that when people plan, God laughs?

When People Plan, God Probably Does Laugh...

Ah.  Things had a way of not going according to people’s plans in the Bible, either.

Case in point:  Mary.  She was a young woman engaged to Joseph, and what do you normally think about when you’re engaged and planning a wedding?  Probably the dress, hair, makeup, shoes, menu: chicken or fish? ...music for the reception, the gifts…but for Mary, an angel messenger interrupts those plans and tells her that something radically different  is in store--something that means there probably won’t be a dress, hair, makeup, shoes, reception, whatever hopes and dreams and plans she had for her wedding day.  Jesus’ arrival into this world would turn everything upside down.  [Incidentally, that’s why I love the John Bell hymn, No Wind At the Window,  which is the first time I’ve seen something to say, “sorry about that wedding you were planning, Mary.”]

In the face of such shocking news, Mary could have been humiliated by the scandal;  could have agreed to be put away quietly, to live in exile.  She could let this unexpected arrival really ruin her life.  After all, isn’t that the fear and the social script we still maintain for every unexpected pregnancy to an unwed young mother?  

However, Mary does something different.  She rises to the occasion, and her response is one that both praises God and claims a vision for the future where the whole world order is turned upside down:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, 47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

Remember that well, when we sing the hymn following the message, this idea that the world is about to turn. [Canticle of the Turning]

Not In Soft Robes

Something interesting happens between the story of Mary’s Magnificat and the Gospel text for today.  Look this up with me in your Bibles.  In Luke, the story says Mary went to visit her aunt Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist at the time, and the baby John leapt in recognition when Mary, pregnant with Jesus, came near.  Even in the womb, there was the recognition, and John announced, or heralded, the arrival of the messiah.  Fast-forward thirty-odd years, and John is at it again, out in the wilderness, gathering followers, heralding the arrival of the messiah, whom he may or may not have seen in awhile.  Perhaps they were distant cousins.  Anyway, John has landed himself in prison, which doesn’t sound like what he’d been hoping for, and when he hears of Jesus teaching and healing, he sends word to see if this is indeed the one they have hoped for.  

We talked a few weeks ago about how the Jewish people were hoping for a king or deliverer with sufficient military power to defeat their enemies; today we hear about how the very appearance of John or Jesus may defy all expectation.  After all, neither are dressed in soft robes and lying around in palaces. And yet, that’s not really the definition of a king, of the one who will deliver the people.  Rather, Jesus points to what really matters:

“the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them” (11:5).  

The world again is turned upside down.

Be Patient; Strengthen Your Hearts

Friends, I recognize that this is the last week in the world we want to hear this Isaiah passage about springs of living water bursting forth, making the deserts bloom, of deserts becoming pools and swamps, and so on.  Good for those deserts, maybe, but we’ve had enough, thanks.

But I want to lift up the next verse in the Isaiah passage that also gets repeated in the letter of James today, because I think it’s exactly what we need to hear this week: Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God.

And God is here.  God is here in the midst of this mess, and really, in the midst of every mess, every disaster, every “what do we do next?” kind of moment.

James says,  8You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. 9Beloved, do not grumble against one another, so that you may not be judged.

And figuring a way out of those moments usually takes time, and a great deal of patience.   (A dose of good humor never hurts in situations like these either.)

Even babies take nine months to be born; even prophets and messiahs take about thirty years before starting their world-changing ministry; to plant and to harvest as the scriptures note today also takes due time.

Flood cleanups happen relatively quickly by comparison.

I do believe that when people plan, God laughs, but I don’t think it’s too often a harsh, mocking, humiliating laughter.  I tend to think of it as more of a loving, good-natured chuckle.

Even at Christmas, things can get turned upside down.  Dinner gets burnt, holiday gatherings get snowed out, or flooded out, and all the like.  We can let it get the best of us, or we can rise to the occasion.  At Christmas, we can find our outlook transformed by hope, peace, love, and joy.  After all, this time of year we remember more than ever, that the blind may see, the deaf hear the lame walk and the dead rise again.  God’s grace is in the turning, a grace that sends us for a loop, and by which we might see everything in a new light.  Thanks be to God!

Prayers this week:

For those in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, under a foot of snow --beautiful but dangerously cold for those who have no heat; and the deep floodwaters in Gaza that cause harm to so many

For all who struggle in the cold and snow

For all who have empty hands and empty stomachs

For all who seek a welcoming home for the holidays

Youth Moment: On Baptism and Sand Castles

The second weekend in December seems like a funny time to talk about being at the beach, and actually, the snow is piling up outside our windows.  But, have you ever gone to the beach and built a sandcastle?  Have you ever worked really hard on it for a long time?  It's really neat what you can do with just water, and sand.

from raisinggreatkidsblog.com

Now, have you ever gone back the next day?  Was the sand castle still there?  Usually not, though sometimes there's a few traces left behind.  Sand castles don't keep, except for the memories or if you take a picture, and then you have to begin the next time all over again and build another one.

I like to think of building sand castles on the beach when I think of what it means to live out our baptisms. Our baptisms are eternal--just as God is eternal, and how very much the sand and water at a beach appear eternal to us.  We are God's children forever, whatever we may do in this life.  But building sand castles is a little like the daily practice of living out our baptisms--we respond to others in acts of love, to make our world a better place.  Sometimes the good we do is preserved in the memories of ourselves and those around us; but really, each day, we get to begin again by loving people all over again--especially the people who are hurting and need extra love to heal those hurts.

Now, this can be a lot of work, really.  But, we shouldn't be discouraged, and we don't have to do it alone, because we know God is always with us, and because we have each other to support one another.  Even in those times when it seems like all the good we may do just gets washed away in this world, we can and should still do beautiful things whenever we can, acts of love...and, like sand castles, we may even have some fun doing it.  Thanks be to God for sand and water, the world around us, and the daily opportunity to live out our baptisms by loving one another!

That We May Have Hope

Second Sunday in Advent

Isaiah 11:1-10, Psalm 72:1-7; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

(Look these up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

[These are some of my favorite Bible passages, especially the Isaiah, so I have a few other things in writing [in brackets] that time did not permit me to share on Sunday.  However, I share them here to peruse at your leisure].

Many of you know that on Tuesdays a bunch of us pastors get together to study the Scriptures for the week and get started thinking about the sermon.  And most weeks it’s helpful, but this week it somehow got dragged down into one of those discussions where you try to figure out how to fix the world--and an hour later you haven’t fixed anything and you’re just kind of tired, and maybe a tad cynical:  One says, raise the minimum wage, another says that’ll just make everything more expensive and folks’ll end up back in the same place. And on, and on.

I don’t want to sit there and dwell in cynicism too long, so let’s get some basic assumptions out of the way before we begin: We know there’s brokenness in the world, and we wish it were not so.  We wish there were some easy fix, but we also kind of know there’s not.  We know that whatever can change the world for the better, will take an enormous amount of energy and effort.  We know we can’t check out of the situation entirely either.  And we know we don’t want to think about all of that and just end up tired, we’d like to have something to hope for!

Isaiah 11:6 '...the calf and the lion...and a little child shall lead them.'
Found at doveandcross.org

Today in our Scriptures we’ve got some amazing and perhaps a bit confusing imagery of a hoped-for world: A world where nature is re-ordered such that predator animals and their prey can live together peaceably and no one fears harm; a world where a king does not just look out for his rich and powerful political allies, but creates justice for the poor, who can give him nothing in return; and how even from a seemingly-dead stump, new life can spring forth.  

Wouldn’t it be wonderful!  How can we get there?  How can we have such a world where these things that we deeply in our hearts hope for, could come true?

Ah, that’s what folks have wrestled with throughout all time!

So, now, enter this strange character, John the Baptist, kind of a wild and crazy-seeming guy, a prophet proclaiming the kingdom of heaven is near, and the people of Jerusalem and all Judea are going out to him to be baptized, and they’re confessing their sins.

And many Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious establishment leaders of the day, are coming out to join them.  And that’s where John gets angry.  Why is that?

It might be worth noting that this idea of using water for spiritual cleansing is nothing new even in John the baptists’ time.  Jewish people for centuries had been using mikvehs, sort of like a big baptistry or if you don’t know what that is, a jacuzzi, with stairs that you descend on one side until you’re pretty well submerged, then you come back up the other side, ritually clean.  You do this after doing anything makes you ritually 'unclean'--such as preparing a loved one’s body for burial, or after childbirth, or a list of other things that I’m going to send you to Wikipedia for, since the list is a little 'earthy:'  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikveh

And here's a link to images of both ancient and modern Mikvehs, via Google image search. (Note that a person may not be wearing clothes in a Mikveh, so view at your own discretion).

Going Through The Motions

That makes you ritually pure to enter the Temple, the house of God, and worship.  It’s a powerful symbolic ritual, designed to prepare people to increase their relationship with God by leaving behind distractions of daily life.  But the real importance is not really the physical ritual, it’s the internal preparing of your heart for worship and relationship with God.  In other words, it’s not magic.  Going through the motions might make you look acceptable to your peers, but it doesn’t really do much for you if your heart isn’t in it.

That said, why is John so angry at the Pharisees and Sadducees?  It’s because they’re going through the motions, and they’re also relying on the privilege of their bloodline for their security in this world.  Rather than being accountable for their own actions and how their own corruption is harming other, especially vulnerable people, they are seemingly smug, and they hold everyone else accountable to the motions, without consideration for their human struggles, whether physical or spiritual.

Don’t Be Too Quick To Judge

We shouldn’t be too quick to judge, though.  Sometimes I think, If the Sadducees and Pharisees are there trying to get baptized, then really, maybe they’re not feeling all that smug and secure. And let’s be honest: we, too, could become smug, to say that we’re Christians, that Jesus reconciled the world 2,000 years ago, and that’s that.  Well, yes, we believe that our eternal salvation is in the death and resurrection of Christ, but if we do not let that affect how we live out our daily lives in relationship to God and one another, we really lose out on so much in this life.

The Gift of Baptism

In our faith tradition, we baptize infants because we believe that God does the work of salvation, that we do not and cannot earn our salvation, any more than an infant could.  God has done that work for us, that is God’s gift to us.  That is our gift whether we keep it up on a shelf, or whether we take it out every day and use it.  The gift is still ours either way, but in our daily lives right now, we are made richer by using it.  

[This brings up a tricky situation that many families wrestle with:  when grandparents want a child baptized sort of ‘just in case,’ even if parents don’t want the child baptized or plan to teach them the faith.  If you are a grandparent worrying over grandkids that aren’t baptized or don’t get to church, don’t fight with the parents over it.  And of course, you would never threaten a fiery hell or whatever else folks sometimes threaten others with, because that doesn’t help anyone.  Instead, you teach them the love of God and inspire that relationship two ways:  you show them God’s love with your own compassionate and gentle presence, and you teach them what it means to love others.]

In a world where we are living out our Baptisms, we aren’t afraid to love our enemies, to show compassion, or to forgive those who have hurt us. We hold each other to a different kind of accountability, one that says, ‘we’re all in this together, we care about the same things, we want a more peaceful world for our children here on earth,’ not a legalistic or revenge-based accountability that is so common in our world, yet so ultimately empty and unfulfilling.  

[After all, how many times have we heard where a person said about a lawsuit, it wasn’t really about the money and it didn’t make them feel any better, they just really wanted more than anything to hear that the person who hurt them was sorry for doing so.?

Sometimes in life, we cut off or try to avoid people who have done us harm because we think it’ll hurt less.  Granted, sometimes in life-threatening situations, such as a history of abuse or domestic violence, we do have to do that.  But in the more routine difficulties of relationships, the distance doesn’t really heal.]

[I’ve told you before as a pastor I’m often surprised by how many people worry whether they are actually saved or if they are going to hell.  And yet I take those concerns seriously.  If we ourselves haven’t faced that kind of anxiety before, we can at least sympathize with the people in the Gospel story, who are going to John the Baptist to be baptized for the repentance of sins.  They want  to be washed clean of whatever’s been bothering them that they’re not proud of.  But again, it’s not a magic trick.  It’s not a thing to check off your list.

Ideally, we’re reminded of the bigger picture, that world and kingdom of God we are hoping for, when we gather to worship, and then we are sent forth to figure out how to live that kingdom hope and those kingdom values in our daily lives--in how we treat our coworkers or fellow drivers or the store clerk or waitress or the person on the street asking for change.]

A Transformation Of Hearts

The Gospel for today happened to be the text for Friday’s Bible Study group, and one question came up, how do you really know that you have repented and are forgiven?  And I would answer, you know in your heart.  If that’s confusing, because I think that can be, even for me sometimes, then ask yourself--about a situation where you’re upset with someone, for example.  If you have something that you are sorry for, some harsh words, well, are you really sorry?  You know when you’re holding back in your heart.  When there’s someone out there that drives you nuts that you see everyday, (maybe even at church!), have you learned to feel compassion for them and whatever they may be going through?  

Are you just being nice to someone’s face, or do you truly deeply care about them?

There’s a quote in the book, Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card, which really stuck with me this week: “I find that by the time I truly understand my enemy... then I also love them…”  Those of you who know the book know that the quote ends with gaining advantage over and destroying the enemy, which isn’t all that loving.  But for our purposes today, let’s just take that first part:  

Can you go up to a person who drives you nuts and say directly to them, “hey, I know we’ve had our differences and probably still will, but I just want to let you know I care about you and I want to keep trying to work things out?”  When we are living out our Baptism, we don’t have to destroy our enemies.  It is enough just to love them.

(You can read the full quote here via Goodreads.com).

Anxiety and Hope in an Uncertain Future

While we’re talking about total transformations of the heart, let’s be real.  I’m a pastor, and I can be totally loving and forgiving and compassionate and understanding of each and every human being I meet for oh, at max, about six or seven days in a row. (And sometimes, if we’re really going to be honest, maybe some days, only a few hours, or a few minutes.  Some Sundays, I’m not even home from church before I’ve grumbled about three other drivers along the way). But, six or seven days, let’s say, and then I need to be reminded that the Kingdom of God is built not by resting on our laurels or by going through the motions, but by the active, daily practice of love.  Love in forgiveness, love in compassion.  We will all need to keep working at this, every day, for the rest of our lives.  Our eternal salvation does not depend on this, because that work has already been done.  But our world today, very much needs these daily doses of love.  By love, true community is built.  By love, all obstacles and challenges can be faced together.  By love, our world is transformed.

While I’m not likely to take the Isaiah passage literally and allow my young children to go play with nests full of snakes anytime soon, I do still fervently hope for a day when no one will hurt or destroy within the realm of God.

In an uncertain future, we can take hope.  And really, no matter how good or bad the present times are, the future is always uncertain.  We can allow that to paralyze us with fear, or we can allow that to turn us into cynics, or we can live into hope.  As Paul has written: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prayers this Week:

For all who struggle in body, mind, or spirit, with the winter weather

For all who are hungry or homeless at Christmas, and at any time of year

For all who are grieving or hurting at this time of year

For all who are unable to gather with family and friends for the holidays

For the hope and justice and inspiration brought to all people by the life and leadership of Nelson Mandela

Unexpected...

Unexpected…

Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122:6-9; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44

(look these up on biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org)

On this first week of Advent, we have Scriptures which anticipate the future.  In Isaiah, we hear, “in the days to come...the Lord’s house shall be established in the highest of the mountains.”  In Romans, Paul tells the congregation there that they know what time it is.  And in the Gospel, we hear that nobody but God knows the day or the hour, but that it will be as in the time of Noah.

Well.  How’s that for getting your curiosity going?

We’ve been having as Scripture for the last few weeks what are called ‘Apocalyptic Literature,’  which all foretell that something BIG is about to happen, and maybe a wee bit scary:  Disasters, wars, the end times, something like that.  Now, I don’t know that that’s what I want to think about just when we’re hauling out the Christmas decorations and trying to get into the holiday spirit.

However, I realized a few things as I was preparing for today, one of which is that in Biblical times, so much was written when big scary things were happening like this.  Maybe when all was well, people just didn’t think to write.  (It’s a little like not hearing from the kids unless they need money).  Even most of the Psalms go something like “Praise God!  Praise God, wow, we really thought we were goners for a minute there, but we pulled through with God’s help, Bless the Lord!”

There’s also a common thread in these passages, talking about the times now and times to come, and in each one, the writers are waiting for deliverance.  For example, they’re waiting for deliverance in the Psalm, when they say, pray for the peace of Jerusalem...and it’s poignant, because we know that Jerusalem has seen its fair share of war and occupation.  

Ah, Jerusalem...the Psalm really describes the city well, and even today the Old City has towers and strong walls, moats and drawbridges, and places for people who keep watch--in case they were about to be overrun and conquered.  They were looking for deliverance by someone powerful, someone powerful enough to defeat their enemies, who were usually more powerful than they were.  

In fact, when you think of who the people are hoping for throughout these Scriptures, given that they’ve been conquered by Babylonians and Romans and are living in exile or under military occupations, not even free in their own land, think about it:  they’re kind of looking for someone like Bruce Willis, or Rambo, or somebody who can show those other guys who’s boss.  Really, they were kind of hoping for a military genius, someone invincible.

But then God does the unexpected, by bringing deliverance in the form of a baby, not a general.  That seems rather impractical for a people who are constantly overrun by armies and empires!  And yet, this baby is truly a symbol of peace.  And the way that the world is transformed is not by physical aggression or military power, but a transformation of human hearts.  A transformation that says, peace begins within us and we share that peace with one another, a peace that softens hard hearts and heals broken ones.  In fact, in the Romans passage, Paul calls on us to put on “the armor of light,”  not the kind of armor we associate with Roman soldiers just as his original audience would have seen back in the day, but instead, “to put on the Lord Jesus Christ.  This is not armor for battle with weapons.  Instead, it is the armor which only works through love.

Now, again in this season of Advent, but truly at all times, it is the time, to keep awake, to keep alert, for a transformation of peace, a chance for everything to become new again, to live new relationships and lives, a way of re-ordering how we shall live with one another.  Instead of an all-powerful emperor, we receive the unexpected good news of the Kingdom of God.  A kingdom ushered in with a tiny infant in the poorest of shelters.  That kingdom too, has the power to deliver us, no matter how terrible the forces against us.  Thanks be to God!