One of my favorite BBC TV shows is “The Vicar of Dibley”. If you haven’t seen it, please, I implore you to rent it on Netflix…it will make you laugh until your stomach hurts! Anyway, the Christmas special is one of my favorites because in it, the Vicar is plagued with writer’s block for her Christmas Eve sermon. After eating too many candy bars, dealing with parishioner’s problems and talking to her pictures of Jesus and Mel Gibson (which hang on the wall just above her computer), she decides to take a line from the pop group “The Spice Girls” as her sermon theme. I won’t tell you the rest, but I have to admit that I was having my own Vicar of Dibley moment this year. As I was trying to prepare for today, the dishwasher repairman came to adjust the handle on the kitchen dishwasher, I asked Sue several times if these were indeed the correct readings for the day, I went to therapy, took care of Warming Shelter needs, and ate entirely too many cookies, fudge, and brownies. And do you think I was able to overcome my writer’s block in all that? Nope. Instead, I dealt with ordinary, everyday events.
In the reading from Luke, we have a truly ordinary experience. Mary and Joseph are expectant parents travelling to take care of their business--the census. They don't have reservations at a fancy hotel. They aren't driving a luxury vehicle. There isn't a warm fire waiting for them when they arrive. Instead, they are two regular people, travelling by donkey to a somewhat unfamiliar place. As we know from the gospel and countless Christmas pageants and movies, there is no room at the inn, and so when it's time to settle in for the night--and for Mary to give birth--it is in a stable or barn…a very ordinary place. Generations of women before Mary had given birth, and generations of women after her would too. But this birth was special. It was the in-breaking of God. After months of waiting, wondering, and hoping, this birth, foretold by an angel, was happening. The extraordinary life of the Divine came into the ordinary world of humans. And who are the first to hear about it? Not family members or friends, but shepherds. Also very ordinary people. There they were out on the hillside with their sheep, and angels appeared to them proclaiming this extraordinary good news! Suddenly everything that was ordinary about that evening had become extraordinary. And so being led by stars and singing angels, the shepherds are the first on the scene, and they are privy to a miracle. In that moment, everything changed. In the birth of Jesus, the bridge between the Divine and human was made manifest. In that most ordinary of events, all of creation woke up to a new beginning. It's not every day that we witness these kinds of massive in-breakings of God. Instead, it's found in the little miracles that surround us daily. A sandwich for someone who's hungry. A card in the mail for someone who's lonely. A hug for someone in pain. These are all ordinary events in the ordinary lives of ordinary people. And yet, when we participate in these ordinary events with a heart of gratitude...we become privy to a miracle. You see, God needs all of us--even those of us who think we're 'ordinary'--to bring about the Kingdom of God. If you don't think it's true, just look around. Look into the face of the person next to you. How have they proclaimed the good news to you? In their words, in their actions, in their love? See...the gospel truth of God's steadfast love for us is found in the lives of ordinary people in ordinary places. What I learned from my experience of writer’s block is that in all those ordinary events…the dishwasher repairman’s visit, my bugging Sue about the readings, the therapy visit, the Warming Shelter work, and the overindulgence in yummy baked goods…God was present. All of those everyday encounters of sharing, laughing, and working reminded me that God is with us in all times and places. And the good news of the gospel is that God is not only there, but also calls on us ordinary people to help bring about extraordinary things. And so I invite you to consider where God is calling you and how you might participate in bringing about the extraordinary in this world.
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This reading from Luke is one of my favorites. If you come into my office, you would no doubt discover that I have a love for Mary. Part of my love for her is grounded in the fact that she serves as my role-model for saying yes to God.
Throughout our Jewish-Christian heritage there have been many women who have said yes to God. While she may have laughed at the announcement that she would bear children, Sarah said yes to a God she really didn't know or understand. Leah & Rachel, Hannah, and Elizabeth all said yes to following God. These women, like most of us, were flawed and imperfect. But they said yes to where and how God was calling them. And so it is within this heritage that we also encounter Mary saying yes. In today’s Gospel reading, we have the story of the Annunciation…or the good news to Mary. In the Annunciation the angel Gabriel brings Mary the message that she will bear Jesus--Emmanuel--God with us. And according to Luke, Mary doesn't respond right away; she is perplexed, she ponders, and she questions. She isn't passively obedient to God, but instead questions "how can this be?". She models for us that it's okay to ask God questions and to wonder about how the mystery of God works. Like all of us, she's trying to rationalize her experience. And Gabriel responds "nothing is impossible with God". Thank goodness! The implications of this good news are bigger than they initially appear. So let's think about this for a minute: nothing is impossible with God. That means that with God, we can be forgiven of our sins. With God we can be healed, and then go out and work for the healing of others and the world. With God we can be renewed, and then help others to be renewed. While Mary may not have been thinking of all these possibilities, it seems that she did ponder this message of Gabriel, and that it helped her to say "yes". Her humble response of "let it be" models for us that making the decision to step out in faith is okay. She gives us an example of not having all the answers up front, but rather trusting that God will guide us on the path. Maybe it was because Mary was so ordinary, so unpretentious, so "every day" that God chose her...she had nothing to offer but herself. And this too makes her a model for us. To be disciples, evangelists, God-bearers to the world, we only have to offer ourselves. And when we offer ourselves, it means that like Mary, we shouldn't focus on how great and wonderful we are, but rather how great and wonderful God is. We don't rejoice in ourselves, but we rejoice in the goodness of God. I think there are two messages we're suppose to take away from this reading in preparation for Christmas. One is that it's okay to ask and ponder and wonder. God will meet us in our confusion, put an end to our fears, and make things new. And while God may guide us on a course that is unexpected, it will be filled with grace. The second is that saying "yes" to God is about having love, courage and mindful willingness. We can choose to say "no", but we might miss out on something extraordinary. So as we enter into our these final days of watching, waiting, preparing and praying, consider the times when you've said "yes" to God, and reflect on being a God-bearer to others. Are you telling them the good news and rejoicing? Joy. Joy is defined as “a deep feeling of or ecstatic expression of happiness”. As we enter into the third Sunday of Advent, the theme is Joy. On your home Advent wreaths, you should be lighting the pink candle, also known as the Joy candle.
Advent is about patiently waiting the coming of the Kingdom of God. It is about hope and expectation. It is a time of reflecting on the way things have been, and deeply desiring the in-breaking of God. It is a time of looking forward to the incarnation of God in Christ. Our readings for the past two weeks have reflected those hopes and expectations, and this Sunday’s readings celebrate the joy of the relationship we share with our incarnate God. The reading from the prophet Zephaniah (3:14-20) is filled with joy. The prophet tells us to sing, shout and rejoice for the restored relationship we have with God. The prophet tells us that not only do we sing and rejoice in this relationship, but that God rejoices in it too. In this passage, we have very incarnational theology happening…God rejoices in us, God gathers us up—even the oppressed, the lame and the outcast; no one is left out, God makes right those systems of injustice, God is present in our challenges and in our healing. In my mind’s eye I imagined the first people hearing this prophet speak and shaking tambourines and beating drums with joy and hope! If only we celebrated and reveled in the incarnation the way that Zephaniah instructs those first listeners. Where are our tambourines and drums? Where are our shouts of joy? Then in our second reading, Canticle 9—or The First Song of Isaiah—we have more rejoicing. It’s almost as if it were written as a response to Zephaniah’s call to rejoice and sing: “Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing from the springs of salvation…Give thanks to the Lord and call upon God’s Name…Sing the praises of the Lord…Cry aloud…ring out your joy”. And what is the cause of all this joy? That we can trust in God and that God is in our midst. Our joy is in the incarnation. Where are our shouts of joy? Where are our tambourines and drums? Our third reading from Philippians (4:4-7) continues this theme of rejoicing. “Rejoice…the Lord is near…give thanksgiving”. . There is to be no more worry and anxiety. The incarnation is the source of our joy. Where are our tambourines and drums? Where are our shouts of joy? Even in the Gospel of Luke, there is joy to be found. I used up my “brood of vipers” chance last week when I preached parts of this Gospel. Oh well…vipers aren’t joyous anyway. But even in John’s scathing response to those who had gathered around him, he presents them an opportunity to rejoice because the One who is coming, the incarnate God in Christ, is going to baptize with the Holy Spirit…Jesus will purify us, gather us up, right all wrongs, and be present with us in our challenges and in our healing. This is the good news that John proclaimed. So where were their tambourines and drums? Where were their shouts of joy? In the 10th century, an anonymous poet wrote these words about the season of Advent, the good news of the incarnation, and the call to rejoice: Eternal Health, unfailing Life of the world, everlasting Light, and truly our Redemption. For grief that the ages of humankind should perish by the work of the tempter’s agents, without leaving the heights of heaven, you have entered the depths of the world with your clemency. Then by your own free grace taking on all that is human, you have rescued all the earthly things that had been lost, bringing joy to the world. Our souls and bodies, Christ, restore to God that you may have us as your light-filled dwelling places. By your first advent, claim us as just and faithful; by your second, liberate us. So that when you judge all deeds in the bright light, we, clothed in unblemished garments, may follow your footsteps then wherever we find them. If I had to venture a guess, even though we hear this good news of prophets and poets, even though we know the end of the Advent story (we’re only two weeks from Christmas), sometimes, like those gathered around John in the wilderness, we scratch our heads and say “And what should we do”. Part of our calling as Christians is to rejoice, sing, and shout with joy the good news that God is with us…to be the “light-filled dwelling places” of God. And we can do that, and in fact, many of us do that, in a variety of ways… the way we treat a stranger, a simple smile or hug, giving of our time, talent or treasure to FISH, The Next Door, and the Warming Shelter, providing food for the hungry, and clothes for the cold. But sometimes, we really do need to just rejoice, sing and shout! Sometimes we have to shake ourselves out of comfort zone and follow Christ’s footsteps wherever they are, and speak of our gratitude and unleash our joy! And so this Christmas, I invite you to stop worrying. Stop worrying about gifts and holiday dinners and travel plans. Stop complaining about lines in the grocery store. Stop being anxious about the burdens that you carry around. Instead, rejoice, sing out, and shout that God is with us, and we are being rejoiced in by God. “Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height; look toward the east, and see your children gathered from west and east at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that God has remembered them.” This line from the scribe Baruch, the scribe of the prophet Jeremiah, makes me think of that song I taught you this fall “Arise, shine, for the light of Christ and the Glory of the Lord shall come upon you”. It’s the perfect setting for our Advent celebrations. Last week we read that Jesus told his followers to “stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” and this week there is more of that sense of urgency about the coming of the Kingdom of God.
Just this week in Bible Study we read the song of Zechariah. And in our little group we talked about the importance of this song. That after nine months of stunned silence (you have to remember, Zechariah didn’t believe Gabriel’s message that Elizabeth would be pregnant), his first words are words of celebration. I almost expect exclamation points at the end of the first line “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free.” Arise, O Jerusalem, Blessed be God, we are free! But this song of celebration is also one of prophecy…in it he is commissioning his son John, “God’s Gift”, to be the prophet of the Messiah. John will be the one to prepare the way of the one who will “shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace”. Arise, shine for the light of Christ and the Glory of the Lord shall come upon you. And it is the adult John that we encounter in the Gospel. The John who has gone out into the wilderness, who is said to have eaten locusts and honey, is proclaiming a new baptism and a new way of understanding the Kingdom of God. Unfortunately for us, the ones who determine the lectionary reading cut the reading a bit short, stopping at verse 6. But if we were to read this part in its entirety (to verse 18), we would have learned a lot more about John’s prophecy. So I will just take a moment to share it with you: John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.’ 10 And the crowds asked him, ‘What then should we do?’ 11In reply he said to them, ‘Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.’ 12Even tax-collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, ‘Teacher, what should we do?’ 13He said to them, ‘Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.’ 14Soldiers also asked him, ‘And we, what should we do?’ He said to them, ‘Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.’ 15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah,16John answered all of them by saying, ‘I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17His winnowing-fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.’ 18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people. I know when I first read this, that line “You brood of vipers” hit me in the pit of my stomach. Who are the brood? The religious leaders, the tax collectors, those who have participated in the oppression of others…it includes me, and perhaps some of you. And yet, even though we might find ourselves among the brood of vipers, there is still good news in his prophecy. When asked “What then should we do?” John tells them how to participate in the coming Kingdom of God…give to others, provide for the hungry, don’t take more than you need, live honestly. For a long time I always thought the Gospel quoted Isaiah as saying “Prepare the way for the Lord”. But it doesn’t. I actually says “Prepare the way of the Lord”. And so until recently, I thought John was the one saying “get ready, Jesus is coming”…prepare for the Lord. But now I’m starting to understand that what John was really saying was “get ready, live as if the Kingdom of God is now”. So how do we prepare the way of the Lord? We give to others, we provide for the hungry, we don’t take more than we need, we live honestly. We stand up and raise our heads. Arise, shine, for the light of Christ and the Glory of the Lord shall come upon you. A while back, the Bible Study group read the entire book of Jeremiah. In looking through my files, it took us 3 months to make our way through the teachings of the prophet. It was a long, hard struggle. Part of what makes that text so difficult is that the first half of the book is a lesson on why Israel fell captive to Babylon. And so for 25 chapters, you read about how God will destroy the world, the covenant with the Israelites, and the aftermath of destruction. The outlook is bleak. All hope seems lost. The relationship with God is broken. And that is the context in which the reading for this morning is set. By the time you get to chapter 33, the book has transitioned. No longer are there curses against the people and destruction, but from chapters 26 to 52, it is a lesson about how to survive. There is a shift from a theme of desolation to one of hope. And there is an anticipation of change…that God will re-establish the covenant and that the Divine promises will be fulfilled. As Jeremiah tells us, “Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety”.
It’s worth considering this text from Jeremiah alongside the Gospel reading (Luke 21:25-36). Here Jesus is talking to his disciples about the coming of the kingdom of God. If you look back over the last several weeks, he’s been talking about this anticipated change. He’s told the disciples that the Temple would be destroyed, he’s warned of wars and feminine and persecutions…all very bleak. And yet, in this Gospel lesson, we get another turning point…another shift in theme from desolation to hope. Jesus says when you see all these things happening, “stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near”. In other words, don’t be scared…be hopeful. These two lessons remind us what Advent is all about. It isn’t just the last few weeks to bide our time before Christmas, it’s a time for us to reflect on hope. It’s a time for us to prepare for a turning point, a transition, and a change. It’s a time for us to stand up and raise our heads and be on guard for the coming of the kingdom of God. It is easy to get stuck in the desolation and destruction that surrounds us; all we have to do is turn on the TV, open a newspaper or check the internet. What we so often find is a bleak outlook that could be considered a modern version of Jeremiah’s first 25 chapters. But what helps us to move through these moments and times of crisis is the hope of new life and the anticipation of change. And so this morning, I want to share with you a poem titled “The Litany of Hope and Promise” by the Rev. Gord Waldie (http://worshipofferings.blogspot.com/2009/12/litany-of-hope-and-promise.html). God, there is so much worry and anxiety around the world. Things seem so unsettled and unstable. And yet the story of faith reminds us to hope for the future. Help us to see the possibilities that always come with birth, help us to be people of hope, help us live out Your hope and justice. Teach us to sing your praise, O God. Teach us to sing with notes formed by hopes and acts of justice. Teach us to sing with harmonies shaped by mercy’s wide embrace. May all the earth join the chorus and dance to your beating heart. God, through wise ones of old you show us a vision of what could be. Through mystics and prophets of today you challenge our vision of the present. Remind us of that vision of peace and justice. Empower us to live as if we believed it was really possible. Teach us to sing your praise, O God. Teach us to sing with notes formed by hopes and acts of justice. Teach us to sing with harmonies shaped by mercy’s wide embrace. May all the earth join the chorus and dance to your beating heart. God today there are many who wonder where their next meal will come from, today there are many who look for work and income, today there are many who look for meaning in the face of life's disappointments. Soon we will sing of a child that is born. Soon we will here tidings of great joy that shall be for all people. As we tell the story and celebrate the birth, push us look into the face of the newborn, and see there a world of possibility. If indeed the birth of any child is Your message of hope for the future, may we see that hope this Christmas. Teach us to sing your praise, O God. Teach us to sing with notes formed by hopes and acts of justice. Teach us to sing with harmonies shaped by mercy’s wide embrace. May all the earth join the chorus and dance to your beating heart. God, centuries later we hear again the promise of Dame Julian that All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things be well. And part of us finds it to be unbelievable that such a promise could be true. When our despair grows and the shadow threatens to overcome the light, remind us that we are people of hope. When we are tempted to find relief from the present in trying to recreate the past, call us to be people of the future. When life's music has faded, or become a funeral dirge, Teach us to sing your praise, O God. Teach us to sing with notes formed by hopes and acts of justice. Teach us to sing with harmonies shaped by mercy’s wide embrace. May all the earth join the chorus and dance to your beating heart. |
AuthorI don't know what the future of the church is, but I know that we will continue to be a place of sanctuary and hope, working towards healing in the world. Archives
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