Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Best Christmas Ever

Children’s Sermon1
The Sunday school at St. Matthew’s had done the Christmas pageant the same way every year. It was always in the church, on the fourth Sunday in Advent. The play was put on mostly by the by the first and second-grade children. As the parents, grandparents, and older children crowded into the sanctuary, the younger children, all freshly scrubbed, gathered in the adjoining hallway.

The Christmas story unfolded in the expected way. The choir of older children sang a Bethlehem-type song, and in from the hallway, encouraged by the tense second-grade teacher, came the beaming Joseph and adorable Mary. Joseph had a striped dish-towel tied round his head with dad’s old tie, while Mary wore a blue veil that looked a lot like the material in the curtains in the first-grade teacher’s family room. Despite Joseph’s frantic waving at his mother in the back pew – and his mother’s waving back – and Mary’s veil slipping dangerously over her eyes, the expectant couple arrived safely at the stable, right between two rows of caroling children.

The innkeeper got his lines right – no fluffed lines this year – the baby Jesus was duly delivered and laid in the manger, and the shepherds made their entry complete with crooks and stuffed animals under their arms. (Well, there was one animal that did look like a lamb, but was the boy at the back carrying a monkey with red and white striped trousers? Oh well, the value of modern exegetical interpretation of scripture .…) The tableau was almost complete, Mary and Joseph right up front, shepherds watching their flock by night on Bethlehem’s plains, and the angelic carolers singing beautifully.

All was ready for the coming of the three kings. The pianist struck the appropriate chord. The singers launched into an impressive royal song. The hallway door opened, and out walked – two kings. “We three kings from Orient are,” they sang, not realizing that one had lost his way. The two kings headed straight for Bethlehem. There was no way these kings were going to miss the action. Their journey was well planned, down the side aisle, up the center aisle, and right into Bethlehem’s manger-square. They had rehearsed carefully, and they walked with style, slowly, in time to the music, and ready to present their gifts when the carol ended.

The two kings were doing fine and all was going well, until the hallway door burst open and, falling through it, came the third king – cloak flapping, present for the baby Jesus tucked under his arm, cardboard crown at a crooked angle, and LATE!

Well, this third king may have been tardy, and he clearly didn’t follow instructions, but he was still smart. Obviously there was no way he could get to Bethlehem by the time the music was finished and meet up with his two companions ready for the next scene. So he decided to take a short cut – right through the singers. Now that might have been OK if the singers had known he was coming, or if a teacher had been able to warn them, or he if hadn’t decided to run as fast as he could. But the singers weren’t ready, and the teacher didn’t move fast enough, and the king wasn’t going to walk.

So he ran. He tripped over a singer’s leg, fell, caught his shoe in the carpet, and arrived at the manger just in time to join his more sedate regal companions. But, having arrived, he couldn’t stop arriving. He continued to run, right into the stable, right up to the manger, and right into the lap of a very surprised Mary. The manger went one way, the precious gift of frankincense went another. A cardboard crown landed in Joseph’s lap, and the baby Jesus, freed from his swaddling clothes, rolled gently towards the first row of pews.

Adults ran to the rescue. The inventive pianist continued to play carols until a semblance of order was restored. Everyone sang the final carol. The star performers took their bow – to the most thunderous applause anyone could ever recall at a church Christmas pageant. And one tearful parent whispered that that year the children had given her one of the best Christmas presents she’d ever gotten!

Adult Sermon
Christmas pageants! Why do we do them? Why do we take such pleasure in seeing children – not adults like the real characters in Luke’s story but children – act out that sacred drama? And why do we set up – and bless – representations of the story in the pageants? For that matter, why are you even here tonight? Why do we leave our warm homes on a wintry evening and flock to churches?

Is it that we are certain – as if we had just heard a historical chronicle – that the gospel according to Luke depicts exactly how Jesus was born? You may indeed think so – and that’s OK. Or, you may not think so. You may question the historic details in Luke’s account – and that’s OK too. Scholars know that the supposedly historical markers that Luke embeds in his tale don’t square with other historical documents. And we know too that Luke and the other evangelists wrote their accounts from particular theological perspectives using particular rhetorical strategies. Whether it all happened exactly as they depict it, two thousand years later we will never know.

So why are we here? It’s not all a fairy story is it – although fairy stories do embody deep truths, more than we realize when we read them as children. Even so, we did not come out to hear a fairy story. We came out to hear the truth that Christians have proclaimed ever since the first hardy souls opted to join the band of Jesus’ followers that began to form after his resurrection. We came out to hear again the deep truth that the Word became flesh and became one with the human family. We came out to hear that God took the great risk of becoming human, of joining the divine life with the human body.

Could that be possible? Why would God want to take on a human body? Most of us dislike our bodies. We think we’re too fat, too thin, too short, or two tall. If we’re young, we think we’ll never be adults, and if we’re old, we mourn the passing of our youthful bodies. Worse, we know that we are mortal, finite, and fragile. And worst of all, many of us are firmly convinced that our bodies are sinful, and that flesh and spirit are at war with each other.

If nothing else, then, the Christmas story reminds us that in the tiny baby, whose birth angels announced to shepherds, the divine and the human are bound together inseparably. This holy story reminds us that our bodies are not wrong, or ugly, or sinful. How could they be, when God was pleased to join Godself to a body? This holy story reminds us that Spirit and flesh are not at war with each other, but are joined together in us as one treasured and beloved whole. How weak and needy we are, how slow we are to learn this truth. And so, God chose to be born as a beautiful child to remind us of who we truly are. For, ultimately, we too are infused with divine life. We too are part of the creation that, out of love, God blew into being, as God’s Spirit hovered over the waters of chaos. We too are part of the creation that God pronounced to be “good.” Spirit and flesh are joined together in us too. Lest we forget that truth, every reading of the gospel story and every Nativity scene provide us with compelling reminders that God and humanity are inseparably joined, not only in Jesus, but also in us – in all of us. And even more important, God is visible to us, not only in the Jesus whose birth we celebrate this night, but also in each of us – and in everyone we meet.

Now here’s a story for the adults. Frederick Buechner relates that, many years ago, he attended Christmas Eve mass at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.2 As he waited, the church filled up with a motley assortment of pilgrims. Finally, there was a sudden hush. Way off, Buechner could see the resplendently dressed Swiss Guards coming up the vast aisle. Then, slowly, slowly, the old pope, Pius XII it was then, came up the aisle. He was dressed in the plainest white cassock and skull cap. As he walked, he seemed to be scanning the crowd. Then he came up to Buechner. His large eyes, made larger by his thick lenses, peered into Buechner’s face. Then he looked into the faces of those around him, with such a charged look that Buechner was sure the pope was looking for someone in particular. “He was a man whose face seemed gray with waiting,” Buechner says, “whose eyes seemed huge and exhausted with searching for someone, some one…. I have felt that I knew whom he was looking for. I felt that everyone else who was really watching must also have known.”

Buechner goes on to remind us that, of course, the face of the one whom the old pope sought was not hidden at all. The one he was looking for “was at that moment crouched against some doorway against the night or leading home some raging Roman drunk or waiting for mass to be over so he could come in with his pail and his mop to start cleaning up that holy mess. The old pope surely knew that the one he was looking for was all around him there in Saint Peter’s. The face that he was looking for was visible, however dimly, in the faces of all of us who had come there that night … because we had come looking for the same one he was looking for….”

My friends, God and humanity are inseparably joined, in Jesus and in us. Never forget that. Let the gospel story and the crèche continue to remind you of that holy truth. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, may we also see him in each other and in all whom we meet in this holy season.

1. Adapted from Tom Gordon, A Blessing to Follow (Glasgow: Wild Good, 2009), 33ff.
2. Adapted from Synthesis, Christmas Day, 2014, 2.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

We are Witnesses

Above the altar of the hospital chapel of Saint Anthony’s Monastery in Isenheim in France, there is a painting of the crucifixion. The altarpiece was painted in the sixteenth century by an artist named Matthias Grünewald. In the painting appears John the Baptist. It is anachronistic, since the gospels tell us that John was murdered by Herod before Jesus himself was executed. Nevertheless the artist has placed John the Baptist at the foot of the cross. Holding open a book at his side showing a lamb bearing a cross, John points a long, bony finger towards Jesus.

Prophets! Once again, our Scripture readings point us towards prophets. Last week we heard the prophets call us to confession of our sins, repentance, and transformation of life. Last week, in John the Baptizer’s call in the Gospel according to Mark, we heard especially clearly our need to confess our corporate sins, and to work toward real amendment of life. This week, our Scriptures send us a different message. While transformation of life is always on God’s agenda for us, this week, this Gaudete Sunday bearing the pink candle of joy, we hear the prophets proclaim, point to, and witness to the wonders that God is working among us. Are we ready to hear that message?

Can you hear the joyful note in the voice of the prophet in our reading from the book of Isaiah? Here the prophet excitedly proclaims good news to those returning from exile in Babylon. Even though Jerusalem is in ruins, the prophet reminds the people of what God has already done for them, and yet again restates God’s promises. Can you hear that good news? Anointed by God, the prophet promises consolation for those who mourn, freedom for those in prison, voices to praise God, the will and the means to rebuild Jerusalem, and assurance that their relationship with God will last forever. Just as we might, the people joyfully respond to what they hear: “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord,” they say, “my whole being shall exult in my God….”

Even our psalm echoes that note of joy. Here too, the people are envisioned as having just returned from exile. Joyfully, the psalmist hears them declare, “Then was our mouth filled with laughter and our tongue with shouts of joy.” Agreeing with their neighbors’ judgment that “The Lord has done great things for them,” the returning exiles witness to God’s deeds as they shout, “The Lord has done great things for us, and we are glad indeed.”

What do you hear and see in the depiction of John the Baptizer in the Gospel according to John? For sure, not John the accuser calling for confession and repentance. Instead, like the John depicted in the Isenheim altarpiece, we see and hear a witness pointing to Jesus. This gospel, the fourth and latest gospel, is a gospel of signs, of signs of the true identity of Jesus and of his oneness with God. We see those signs of Jesus’ identity most clearly, according to the evangelist, in Jesus’ “I am” statements: “I am the light of the world, I am the true bread,” etc. In this reading, the Jesus who will provide all these signs has not yet begun his public ministry but is as yet hidden among the people. In a sense, John the Baptizer is the first sign of Jesus in his “I am not statements.” As he denies that he is the Messiah, Elijah, i.e., the Messiah’s forerunner, and the Prophet, John points towards Jesus’ coming. In so doing, he prepares others to recognize Jesus and to understand who Jesus might be. He is, as he tells us, Jesus’ forerunner, the first witness to Jesus’ true identity.

Did you hear a call to witness in our reading from Paul’s first letter to the Christians in Thessaloniki? Does Paul call those early followers of the Way to point their fingers at Jesus and proclaim his true identity to their neighbors? Directly, no, since the Thessalonians were probably more worried about surviving Roman persecution or lasting until Jesus’ return, an event they believed was imminent. Even so, if you were listening carefully, you might have heard a call to indirect witness to Jesus’ identity embedded in Paul’s letter.

What do we make of these ancient calls to proclamation and witness? Are we called to be God’s witnesses? Or is the role of witness reserved for Isaiah, the psalmist, John the Baptizer, the writer of the fourth gospel, Paul, the Thessalonian Christians, the creator of the Isenheim altarpiece, and a few assorted saints? If you receive our e-news or attend an evening Eucharist, you know that many other people, those whose lives are commemorated in Holy Women, Holy Men, have been – and are – called to point to Jesus and to his impact on their lives.

My brothers and sisters, we too are called to be witnesses. In the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus applied to himself the self-description of the prophet Isaiah – and rightly so. But these words also apply to us. Say to yourself, “The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me.” Believe it: we too are called to speak God’s consoling word – among our family and friends, in hospitals and nursing homes, as we distribute diapers, and as we serve our Loaves and Fishes friends. We too are called to rebuild the broken places in our world – when a family is burned out of their home, when the land is despoiled, when we liberate concentration camps or welcome refugees, and when we reassure those around us, whoever they are, that God’s covenant includes all of us, and that all of us are God’s beloved children.

Like John the Baptizer, we too are called to be a sign of the coming of Jesus. It’s possible, isn’t it, that someone might say of us, “There was a woman sent from God whose name was N,” or “There was a man sent from God whose name was N.” And when someone asks you, “Who are you,” you too can answer, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’” It indeed may feel like a wilderness out there, yet we too are called to take John’s role and point to Jesus. We too are called to remind others that Jesus is coming – even in the midst of this frenzied “holiday” season.

And how do we, as Jesus’ twenty-first century followers actually do that? Are we called to tell others that “the Lord has anointed me?” Are we called to remind others that one is coming after us whose sandals we are not worthy to untie? For some, the answer to those questions would indeed be “yes.” However, our reading from the letter to the Thessalonian Christians gives us another answer. Perhaps we can proclaim Jesus, we can point to the reality of his impact on us, in the way that we live. Perhaps this is our witness: to show forth God’s praise, “not only with our lips but with our lives.”

And how are we to do that? Actually, Paul’s counsels are quite clear. We are to be joyful, not “happy clappy” joyful, but, rather confident in God’s promises and God’s love. We are to “pray without ceasing.” This does not mean saying “Our Father” or “Hail, Mary” every spare minute. It does mean understanding our relationship with God as the very ground of our being and seeking to be in touch with God wherever we are. A practice you might adopt to foster a deeper sense of your life as grounded in God is to do a nightly recast of your day: take just a few minutes to ask yourself, “Where was God in this day for me?” We are to be thankful, for all that God has given us, for those elements in our day or life that made us feel loved and affirmed, but also for those times in which we felt tired, ashamed, angry, and unloved. God is in those moments as well, teaching us and supporting us. We are to trust that the Holy Spirit is at work in us, we are to listen to the prophets among us, most especially when they tell us what we don’t want to hear, and we are to carefully consider all that we see, hear, and do. In short, as William Brosend tells us, we witness best to the reality of Christ when we live lives that are joyous, prayerful, Eucharistic, Spirit-filled, prophetic, and tested. As we live out our calling as followers of Jesus, each of our lives will look different. Even so, all of us can trust that God will empower our witness, because, “The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this.”

Are you ready to be like John the Baptizer in the Isenheim altarpiece? Are you ready to be a witness for Jesus? Then, as you prepare to welcome him as a tiny baby, hear the prayer of another witness:

Winter God, in the darkest time of year
you brought in starlight,
angel song, and baby cries.
Stay with me as I journey to new birth
and celebrate this time of saints,
psalms, and prayer.
In the silence and stillness,
Fashion my prayer into a carol of praise
and focus my life so that I may act as a
Herald of Christ, the child of peace
and the prophet of justice. Amen.1

1. Based on Larry J.Peacock, Openings, (Woodstock, VT: Skylight Paths, 2014), 351.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Give us Grace

“Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer….”

Does God still send messengers to “prepare the way for our salvation?” Do we even need salvation? If so, from what? Today’s Scripture readings give us vivid portraits of those sent to the ancient Hebrews and to Jesus’ followers, of those sent to proclaim God’s justice, God’s promises, and God’s consolation. What do we hear in these readings?

In our reading from the middle of the book ascribed to the prophet Isaiah, we hear words of judgment and consolation spoken in the sixth century BC to the exiles from Jerusalem, just as their exile in Babylonia was about to end. Writing to a dispirited people longing for return and restoration, the prophet alludes to the sins that caused their exile and reminds them of their frailty as human beings. But the prophet has more to say: he also reminds them, and by extension us, that God will strengthen them, and that God will provide the means for their return to Jerusalem. Best of all, the prophet invites the people to trust in God. He reiterates God’s promises to them and assures them that God’s love for them – and for all people – will endure forever.

Our psalm, especially in the verses we don’t say, i.e., verses three through seven, echoes the prophet’s message. Questioning God’s deep and justified anger with God’s people, the psalmist offers the hope that God will restore both the people and the land. Using vivid images of a restored creation, the psalmist offers a vision of God’s Shalom, a state so much more than “peace,” a way of life in which humanity and all creation live in harmony and in accordance with God’s will.

The writer of the second letter attributed to the apostle Peter echoes the messages of the prophet and the psalmist. However, instead of Isaiah, the writer draws on the message of the prophet Malachi, the last of the Hebrew prophets. In today’s selection from Second Peter, we especially hear echoes of the opening verses of Malachi 3: “See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?” Reminding us that the Lord’s return is certain, but that we can never know when it will occur, the writer of Second Peter suggests how we are to live while we look forward to that day: we are to both wait patiently on God, trusting in God’s promise, and at the same time work actively to bring God’s day nearer.

Does our reading from the Gospel according to Mark fit with these readings emphasizing the prophetic messages? Without fanfare, without a genealogy, without a story of a miraculous birth, the evangelist here begins by announcing “the good news of Jesus Christ.” However, the evangelist bids us prepare ourselves to hear that good news by reflecting again on the prophetic message, spoken here by John the Baptizer. Make no mistake: the preaching of John the Baptizer – as Jesus’s preaching will also be -- is clearly grounded in the prophetic tradition of the Hebrew Bible. The evangelist doesn’t quote exactly the text from Isaiah that we just heard, but rather conflates it with phrases from both Exodus and Malachi. Even so, the message is clear. To prepare for Jesus’ coming, John calls the people to self-examination, reflection, and confession. And notice: John doesn’t call only isolated individuals to repentance but an entire community. And the community responds: “And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.” Again the message is clear. While John is not worthy to untie Jesus’ sandals, it is only when people have heeded John’s message, have faced God’s judgment, and have turned their lives around that they can be ready to receive Jesus and his gifts.

“Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer….” The message is clear: our collect and the readings from Scripture urge us to heed the warnings of the prophets and examine ourselves, so that we may be ready to receive God’s salvation and restoration. Is that ancient message relevant to us twenty-first century people? From what do we need to be saved, and to what do we need to be restored? As soon as you turn on your radio or TV, or open your newspaper, smart phone, or tablet, you know the answer to that question. Our world is just as violent and unstable as the world of the Jerusalem exiles or the hearers of the preaching of John the Baptizer. We are mired in what feels like an endless war in Afghanistan, terrorists kill journalists, aid workers, and teachers, deadly viruses devastate Africa, this country still deals with a history of racial injustice despite years of struggle, and we still have the poor very much with us – in our county, our country, and the world.

Sin clearly abounds in our world. And yet, the beautiful verses from our psalm, especially the psalmist’s promise that “truth will spring up from the earth and righteousness shall look down from heaven,” forcefully reminds me of the deep sin of which we twenty-first century humans are personally and collectively guilty: our trashing of creation. In our insatiable demand for energy produced by the burning of fossil fuels, our extractive economies have truly raped the earth. Strip mines, mountain-top removal, the Alberta tar sands, prime agricultural land destroyed in Guatemala and Nigeria, fracking operations in North Dakota threatening water systems: where will it end? And worst of all, as virtually every atmospheric scientist tells us, we are raising the temperature of the earth by releasing carbon into the air when we mine and burn fossil fuels. Make no mistake. Climate change is real. By the end of this century, many of our national parks will be unrecognizable or even non-existent, as glaciers disappear, coral reefs dry up, animals are forced out of their native habitats, and hurricanes tear away our coasts – all because of global warming.

My brothers and sisters, this is not God’s design for us and for our “big blue marble.” If God is angry with us, it is surely because of the way we have treated God’s creation. Our total disregard of the consequences for the earth of our behavior is the state from which we desperately need salvation – if there is even to be a planet to which Jesus might eventually return! As contemporary theologians remind us, we are not separate from nature, but rather part of a web of creation that includes the entire cosmos. And we have been part of that web since the beginning of creation. Did you know that scientists tell us there are no new atoms, only the same atoms undergoing continual changes of state. All of us have bits of stardust in us! And, if we share atoms with plants, and animals, and water, and air, then we are called to live harmoniously within that web of creation. In the end, we cannot “conquer” nature, we can only be its steward and guardian.

At this point, perhaps we should all get up, go over to the Ohio River, and confess our sins against the earth. Isaiah, Malachi, Psalmist, John the Baptizer, where are you? If Scripture convicts us of our sins, perhaps Scripture also gives us hope, hope that God will fulfill God’s promises, and restore God’s creation. And what are we to do in the meantime? We are to heed the warnings of the prophets among us, and forsake our sins. In our day, those prophets will probably not arrive wearing camel skins and eating locusts and honey. They may be scientists politicians, or community activists, whose warnings about the fate of the earth, most especially about climate change, we can actively heed. Right at this very moment, world leaders are gathered at the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change in Lima, Peru, to address all the behaviors that have contributed to climate change, and to craft strategies that will enable nations to cooperate in scaling back some of the worst changes. Pray that these discussions may bear fruit and urge your elected officials to support their agreements. Closer to home, educate yourself about the plans to build an injection well in Racine, in Meigs County, for water used in fracking, and a receiving dock in Portland, also in Meigs County, for the purpose of receiving out-of-state fracking wastes and dumping them in Meigs, Vinton, and Athens counties. Learn about what these developments will mean for our watersheds. Join with others and learn how we may decrease our reliance on fossil fuels and increase our use of sustainable energy sources.

“Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer….” May God indeed give us grace to heed the warnings of prophets both ancient and contemporary, change our ways, and learn to treasure the creation that is God’s enduring gift to us.