December 24, 2011 - Christmas Eve
10:30 PM: Choral Prelude
11:00 PM: Festive Choral Eucharist
December 25, 2011 - Christmas Day
10:00 AM: Christmas Day Eucharist
All are welcome!
December 18, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God Who is: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The last candle is lit. Ready or not, Christmas is upon us. Ready or not, we will be back here Saturday night or Sunday morning to meet our Lord as He comes to us as a child… and to pray that we may continue to meet Him, as He comes to us in so many ways, at so many times. The Incarnation tells about who Jesus was and is: God. It also tells us about God, about the nature and character of God: that God is the sort of God who is not distant and far from us, far above us and out-of-reach. While God is the Almighty Creator far beyond our understanding, at the same time God is connected to us and one with us. The gap between the mortal and the divine is bridged in Christ.
It seems as though two sisters had been given parts in the annual Christmas pageant at their Church. At dinner that evening they got into an argument as to who had the most important role. Finally the 15 year-old said to her 10 year-old sister: “Well, you just ask Mom. She’ll tell you it’s much harder to be a virgin than it is to be an angel.”
The truth in the sister’s observation can be attested to in St. Luke’s Gospel It all began in an obscure village, in a remote province of the great Roman Empire, with a simple peasant girl. She was young. She had no impressive degrees, or resume, or achievements. She had no stature in the community. In order to be accepted and function socially at all she had to have a husband. The arrangement was made between two families and the couple remained apart, engaged for about a year before they got married. This was Mary’s situation when one day she had a surprising visitor.
The archangel Gabriel appears to Mary and salutes her: “Greetings, highly favored one!” (translated in the Latin Vulgate, “Hail Mary, full of grace!”) St. Luke says that Mary was “greatly troubled and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be”: You think?! what nonsense was this that the angelic messenger of almighty God was telling her, that she was “full of grace” and “highly favored.”!!! This wide-eyed peasant girl, though counseled by the angel, “do not be afraid,” must have been scared to death! Of course, one day she had plans to have a baby with her husband-to-be, Joseph… but the “Son of the Most High?!”
Can you imagine what the comfortable self-righteous establishment would have to say? Probably something like this: “Another unwed teenage mother for the welfare roles; no money, no education… see how these people are! And this one has hallucinations about angels to boot! Then she goes and has the kid in a filthy barn full of animals… she should be reported to Child Protective Services…Shame on her!"
It is in this wonderous story of the Annunciation that we must encounter the shame of Mary. Her shame is that so many rational, scientific-minded of the world raise their eyebrows, or even outright sneer at her being miraculously with child. Her shame is that so many today are no more sensitive to the condition of the humble and downtrodden than the brutal Roman occupiers of 1st cen. Palestine. And her shame as that simple Hebrew girl, is knowing that she is defenseless in the court of human rationality and the self-interests of the world.
But the key to Mary’s greatness, the central reason why she stands as first among the saints and why “from henceforth all generations will call her blessed” is her ability to listen, to hear the voice of God, and then to say “let it be to me according to your word.” She doesn’t do what Abraham and Sarah did when they got the news about Isaac being born to them in their advanced retirement, namely double over with hoots of laughter. She doesn’t do what any of us would probably do in such a situation; she doesn’t press Gabriel for a sign, or make excuses of personal defects in order to wrangle out of the deal, like Moses did. She doesn’t remind the Holy One, like Jeremiah did, that she is too young and unequal to the task. And unlike Jonah, she doesn’t try to run away and hide. Mary’s greatness is her choice to walk away from the secure future she had outlined for herself and into the frightening unknown future God offered her. That is hard; that is always hard.
We no doubt have plans for Christmas and for our families and for our lives. These plans should certainly include God. As Advent ends, we need to realize also that God has plans for us. We need to remember that, very often, it has been those times in our lives when things did not go as we had planned that God was most present, and the most real. We read about Mary’s consent to the freedom of God on this fourth Sunday of Advent, not only to fill us in on the details of Jesus’ birth, but also to consider whether our Advent ponderings have prepared us to make the Christmas consent to God becoming one of us. Do we have the strength of Mary to ponder the impossibility of God being with us as an outcast, hopeless, helpless infant?
Consenting to Christmas is difficult, but the real obstacle is not the big, bad ‘secular world’, as is so often suggested. Sure, the outrageous commercialism of the season distracts us from our Advent disciplines of pondering and preparing the way of the Lord, but our own busyness is not the real problem: God is… or rather God’s plan for us is. Saying ‘yes’ to ‘God with us’ is difficult because in order for us to get in touch with the impossible becoming possible, we have to be willing to critique our fear of being surprised by the unexpected… and then allow our conflicted selves to be amazed by the annunciations going on around us all the time. Through Mary we are modeled faith, heroic faith. Not faith that says ‘yes’ and then does nothing, but faith through which nothing will be impossible.
Mary, then, is not just the mother of Jesus, but our mother too… the mother of all believers. We, too, are touched, adopted, and grasped by the same Spirit which animated creation and the same Spirit which came upon Mary. We are impregnated by the same Spirit to have conceived within the womb of our souls, the same Jesus.
What good is it if Mary gave birth to a son 2,000 years ago and I do not give birth to Him in my own life, in my time, in my society? God is the initiator of change. God is on the side of the poor, humble, neglected, and oppressed… supremely represented in the person of blessed Mary. And we are to bear the Christ and bear witness to the saving acts of God by ministering to the world. Are we accepting, allowing, and assenting to the birth of Jesus Christ in our lives each day and are we taking that new birth to those people and those places where heroic Mary-like faith directs us to go? Our true validity as Christians of the Incarnation lies in the answer…
Amen.
The last candle is lit. Ready or not, Christmas is upon us. Ready or not, we will be back here Saturday night or Sunday morning to meet our Lord as He comes to us as a child… and to pray that we may continue to meet Him, as He comes to us in so many ways, at so many times. The Incarnation tells about who Jesus was and is: God. It also tells us about God, about the nature and character of God: that God is the sort of God who is not distant and far from us, far above us and out-of-reach. While God is the Almighty Creator far beyond our understanding, at the same time God is connected to us and one with us. The gap between the mortal and the divine is bridged in Christ.
It seems as though two sisters had been given parts in the annual Christmas pageant at their Church. At dinner that evening they got into an argument as to who had the most important role. Finally the 15 year-old said to her 10 year-old sister: “Well, you just ask Mom. She’ll tell you it’s much harder to be a virgin than it is to be an angel.”
The truth in the sister’s observation can be attested to in St. Luke’s Gospel It all began in an obscure village, in a remote province of the great Roman Empire, with a simple peasant girl. She was young. She had no impressive degrees, or resume, or achievements. She had no stature in the community. In order to be accepted and function socially at all she had to have a husband. The arrangement was made between two families and the couple remained apart, engaged for about a year before they got married. This was Mary’s situation when one day she had a surprising visitor.
The archangel Gabriel appears to Mary and salutes her: “Greetings, highly favored one!” (translated in the Latin Vulgate, “Hail Mary, full of grace!”) St. Luke says that Mary was “greatly troubled and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be”: You think?! what nonsense was this that the angelic messenger of almighty God was telling her, that she was “full of grace” and “highly favored.”!!! This wide-eyed peasant girl, though counseled by the angel, “do not be afraid,” must have been scared to death! Of course, one day she had plans to have a baby with her husband-to-be, Joseph… but the “Son of the Most High?!”
Can you imagine what the comfortable self-righteous establishment would have to say? Probably something like this: “Another unwed teenage mother for the welfare roles; no money, no education… see how these people are! And this one has hallucinations about angels to boot! Then she goes and has the kid in a filthy barn full of animals… she should be reported to Child Protective Services…Shame on her!"
It is in this wonderous story of the Annunciation that we must encounter the shame of Mary. Her shame is that so many rational, scientific-minded of the world raise their eyebrows, or even outright sneer at her being miraculously with child. Her shame is that so many today are no more sensitive to the condition of the humble and downtrodden than the brutal Roman occupiers of 1st cen. Palestine. And her shame as that simple Hebrew girl, is knowing that she is defenseless in the court of human rationality and the self-interests of the world.
But the key to Mary’s greatness, the central reason why she stands as first among the saints and why “from henceforth all generations will call her blessed” is her ability to listen, to hear the voice of God, and then to say “let it be to me according to your word.” She doesn’t do what Abraham and Sarah did when they got the news about Isaac being born to them in their advanced retirement, namely double over with hoots of laughter. She doesn’t do what any of us would probably do in such a situation; she doesn’t press Gabriel for a sign, or make excuses of personal defects in order to wrangle out of the deal, like Moses did. She doesn’t remind the Holy One, like Jeremiah did, that she is too young and unequal to the task. And unlike Jonah, she doesn’t try to run away and hide. Mary’s greatness is her choice to walk away from the secure future she had outlined for herself and into the frightening unknown future God offered her. That is hard; that is always hard.
We no doubt have plans for Christmas and for our families and for our lives. These plans should certainly include God. As Advent ends, we need to realize also that God has plans for us. We need to remember that, very often, it has been those times in our lives when things did not go as we had planned that God was most present, and the most real. We read about Mary’s consent to the freedom of God on this fourth Sunday of Advent, not only to fill us in on the details of Jesus’ birth, but also to consider whether our Advent ponderings have prepared us to make the Christmas consent to God becoming one of us. Do we have the strength of Mary to ponder the impossibility of God being with us as an outcast, hopeless, helpless infant?
Consenting to Christmas is difficult, but the real obstacle is not the big, bad ‘secular world’, as is so often suggested. Sure, the outrageous commercialism of the season distracts us from our Advent disciplines of pondering and preparing the way of the Lord, but our own busyness is not the real problem: God is… or rather God’s plan for us is. Saying ‘yes’ to ‘God with us’ is difficult because in order for us to get in touch with the impossible becoming possible, we have to be willing to critique our fear of being surprised by the unexpected… and then allow our conflicted selves to be amazed by the annunciations going on around us all the time. Through Mary we are modeled faith, heroic faith. Not faith that says ‘yes’ and then does nothing, but faith through which nothing will be impossible.
Mary, then, is not just the mother of Jesus, but our mother too… the mother of all believers. We, too, are touched, adopted, and grasped by the same Spirit which animated creation and the same Spirit which came upon Mary. We are impregnated by the same Spirit to have conceived within the womb of our souls, the same Jesus.
What good is it if Mary gave birth to a son 2,000 years ago and I do not give birth to Him in my own life, in my time, in my society? God is the initiator of change. God is on the side of the poor, humble, neglected, and oppressed… supremely represented in the person of blessed Mary. And we are to bear the Christ and bear witness to the saving acts of God by ministering to the world. Are we accepting, allowing, and assenting to the birth of Jesus Christ in our lives each day and are we taking that new birth to those people and those places where heroic Mary-like faith directs us to go? Our true validity as Christians of the Incarnation lies in the answer…
Amen.
December 11, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada
‘Tis the season of Christmas letters.
We’ve all received them; some of us have written them.
Remember?
No diminishing here!
I wonder how Elizabeth and Zachariah’s Christmas letter might read:
We meet them again today, John the Baptizer and Mary, on “Rose Sunday,” the day when the darkness of Advent brightens with the promise of God’s new creation.
What is it about them that we recognize? A teen mom – and a wilderness man who wags his finger at us and preaches repentance in such a way that it knocks us out of our complacency and into the waters of baptism?
Media studies and communication theory teach us that three elements are important in any message: the content of the message; the messenger him or herself; and the impact of the message on its hearers.
Both Mary and John are messengers, of course: witnesses to the reality of God.
Mary witnesses in quiet humility with her body: “Here I am,” says Mary. “It shall be with me according to your will. I will bear this child…”
John witnesses in the fiery passion of his words and actions: “Repent!” John commands us. “Turn away from your sins, die in the waters of baptism and be reborn, transformed and ready for the coming of the Lord.
There is something compelling in both witnesses: we’re caught up in the tension between the quiet and the strident voices as we let the message wash over us, baptizing us with word and example.
Each voice is authentic, resonating from a “true self,” and not a false persona, and it is the authenticity of that witness which engages us.
Each speaks with a voice which points toward God; “self” seems to fall away as they respond to God’s call. This is not their story. They are players in a drama far bigger than themselves. Who they are and what they do isn’t about them – but about the God who works through them, the God who grows in their being, whose paths they proclaim…” Each is an instrument in the birth of a new creation, “decreasing oneself,” to paraphrase John the Baptist, “that he may increase.”
The message itself is arresting: this isn’t about whitening your teeth, or a younger, sexier image, either through a particular brand of clothing or a fifteen minute a day workout with your new “bowflex” exercise equipment.
This message matters, not by creating a need, but by responding to one: it speaks to the darkness and despair of a people waiting for hope, waiting for God’s promise of the Messiah. It holds up the promise of a new creation in which righteousness displaces purity, and repentance leads to a salvation accessible to all. It promises an ideal attainable in society, a world in which the mighty are cast down and the lowly uplifted; the hungry are fed; and God’s mercy abounds.
Sound good?
Or, can we even hear that message in a culture of youth and beauty, extreme sports, celebrity, fame, and fortune?
Can we feel the impact of such promises when we live in a middle-class culture where our experiences of hunger or terror come through the media, and our own lives are relatively free of oppression?
Or, perhaps in our culture, we hear the message through our interior wilderness layers of loneliness, anxiety, depression, and addiction where many of us are held hostage?
We prayed today, the Collect for Advent 3: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us!”
We long for the impact of this message! The promise of God is powerful!
Imagine a world filled with these promises:
We hear of it – God’s promises in Isaiah, and again from Mary and John, whose lives were certainly stirred up by God’s power.
Dare we hope for such a world?
Do we feel the message stirring inside us?
Can we even imagine such a world?
Quietly or stridently, Mary and John each bears witness to God’s new creation, the incarnation in the world, not through proof texts or rational explanations, but from their own experiences, their own encounters with the God who has stirred up and transformed their lives.
They have had an experience of God.
In his book, Testimony: Talking Ourselves into Being Christian, Thomas G. Long (p. 93) comments that because we live in a scientific age, “we may think we base our knowledge and decision-making on hard evidence, but in fact we live life mainly on the basis of testimony. Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.”
It is experience, shared.
Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.
Mary and John reach across the centuries, reach through the pages of Scripture, stirring us up, perhaps, as they bear the Good News of Jesus: “Prepare the way of the Lord,” they cry. “The Messiah is coming!”
Their experience, and their witness, engages us and makes us part of the story.
Can we feel the Messiah, nascent, waiting to be born in our lives?
Can we feel that incarnate God stirring within us, stirring up our lives, ready to break open our hearts, claim us?
Which brings me back to those Christmas letters.
What might our Christmas letter look like this year – a real, authentic account of who we are and where we are in our lives right now?
Can we give our own witness about the transformation from despair to hope that God has brought us? Isn’t that a significant part of our Good News this year, and a wonderful gift we can give others? Can we share our relationship with God, and the faith which has meant so much to us?
I read somewhere that sharing faith is simply “one beggar telling another beggar where to find food.” And there are a lot of hungry people out there!
So… how might that letter read?
We’ve all received them; some of us have written them.
Remember?
“Our Susie had a perfect score on the SAT’s and at the age of 15 will graduate as valedictorian of her class. With all the Ivy League Schools vying for her, the only difficulty will be trying to decide which school to attend! Our Jamie managed to be Player of the Year on his football team and still win the Tchaikovsky piano competition. In addition to his music and sports, he finds time to volunteer at the local homeless shelter and maintain a 4.0 in all his classes. .. And our precocious little Jennifer…”You know how it goes: we put our competitive foot forward, share the brightest and best of our accomplishments…
No diminishing here!
I wonder how Elizabeth and Zachariah’s Christmas letter might read:
“We’ve had little contact with our son John since he wandered off into the wilderness a few years ago, shouting something about needing to prepare the way of the Lord… If we can’t have the comfort of grandchildren in our old age, it would be nice at least to have the consolation of knowing our John was the long-awaited Messiah, but he seems willing to settle for “second best” and defer to this man, Jesus… ‘He must increase, and I must decrease,’ he says…”Or Anna’s:
“Our little daughter Mary shocked us all by becoming pregnant! Fortunately Joseph, her betrothed, was kind enough to marry her anyway, although both of them protest vehemently that the child is not his, saying something about the ‘Holy Spirit’… We pray the scandal won’t be too hard on Mary – or on her child… ‘The Almighty has done great things for me,’ she says; I can only hope it’s true.”John and Mary don’t exactly fall into the category of parental bragging-rights.
We meet them again today, John the Baptizer and Mary, on “Rose Sunday,” the day when the darkness of Advent brightens with the promise of God’s new creation.
What is it about them that we recognize? A teen mom – and a wilderness man who wags his finger at us and preaches repentance in such a way that it knocks us out of our complacency and into the waters of baptism?
Media studies and communication theory teach us that three elements are important in any message: the content of the message; the messenger him or herself; and the impact of the message on its hearers.
Both Mary and John are messengers, of course: witnesses to the reality of God.
Mary witnesses in quiet humility with her body: “Here I am,” says Mary. “It shall be with me according to your will. I will bear this child…”
John witnesses in the fiery passion of his words and actions: “Repent!” John commands us. “Turn away from your sins, die in the waters of baptism and be reborn, transformed and ready for the coming of the Lord.
There is something compelling in both witnesses: we’re caught up in the tension between the quiet and the strident voices as we let the message wash over us, baptizing us with word and example.
Each voice is authentic, resonating from a “true self,” and not a false persona, and it is the authenticity of that witness which engages us.
Each speaks with a voice which points toward God; “self” seems to fall away as they respond to God’s call. This is not their story. They are players in a drama far bigger than themselves. Who they are and what they do isn’t about them – but about the God who works through them, the God who grows in their being, whose paths they proclaim…” Each is an instrument in the birth of a new creation, “decreasing oneself,” to paraphrase John the Baptist, “that he may increase.”
The message itself is arresting: this isn’t about whitening your teeth, or a younger, sexier image, either through a particular brand of clothing or a fifteen minute a day workout with your new “bowflex” exercise equipment.
This message matters, not by creating a need, but by responding to one: it speaks to the darkness and despair of a people waiting for hope, waiting for God’s promise of the Messiah. It holds up the promise of a new creation in which righteousness displaces purity, and repentance leads to a salvation accessible to all. It promises an ideal attainable in society, a world in which the mighty are cast down and the lowly uplifted; the hungry are fed; and God’s mercy abounds.
Sound good?
Or, can we even hear that message in a culture of youth and beauty, extreme sports, celebrity, fame, and fortune?
Can we feel the impact of such promises when we live in a middle-class culture where our experiences of hunger or terror come through the media, and our own lives are relatively free of oppression?
Or, perhaps in our culture, we hear the message through our interior wilderness layers of loneliness, anxiety, depression, and addiction where many of us are held hostage?
We prayed today, the Collect for Advent 3: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us!”
We long for the impact of this message! The promise of God is powerful!
Imagine a world filled with these promises:
- A world in which we live long and fully and well;
- A world in which our children have the promise of a future into which they can grow and live.
- A world in which God anticipates our every need.
- A world in which there is peace, even among traditional enemies, and no one will inflict harm on another.
We hear of it – God’s promises in Isaiah, and again from Mary and John, whose lives were certainly stirred up by God’s power.
Dare we hope for such a world?
Do we feel the message stirring inside us?
Can we even imagine such a world?
Quietly or stridently, Mary and John each bears witness to God’s new creation, the incarnation in the world, not through proof texts or rational explanations, but from their own experiences, their own encounters with the God who has stirred up and transformed their lives.
They have had an experience of God.
In his book, Testimony: Talking Ourselves into Being Christian, Thomas G. Long (p. 93) comments that because we live in a scientific age, “we may think we base our knowledge and decision-making on hard evidence, but in fact we live life mainly on the basis of testimony. Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.”
It is experience, shared.
Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.
Mary and John reach across the centuries, reach through the pages of Scripture, stirring us up, perhaps, as they bear the Good News of Jesus: “Prepare the way of the Lord,” they cry. “The Messiah is coming!”
Their experience, and their witness, engages us and makes us part of the story.
Can we feel the Messiah, nascent, waiting to be born in our lives?
Can we feel that incarnate God stirring within us, stirring up our lives, ready to break open our hearts, claim us?
Which brings me back to those Christmas letters.
What might our Christmas letter look like this year – a real, authentic account of who we are and where we are in our lives right now?
Can we give our own witness about the transformation from despair to hope that God has brought us? Isn’t that a significant part of our Good News this year, and a wonderful gift we can give others? Can we share our relationship with God, and the faith which has meant so much to us?
I read somewhere that sharing faith is simply “one beggar telling another beggar where to find food.” And there are a lot of hungry people out there!
So… how might that letter read?
“Dear Friends:Amen.
It’s been a typical year – but not! Oh, the ordinary things have happened – crises of one sort or another – but somehow I’ve felt so blessed! I’ve met Jesus, over and over again, in my friends and family and my church community here at Messiah, and they have loved and supported and sustained me in ways I never knew possible. Truly I know what is meant by “living waters,” for the Almighty has indeed gone great things!
May the blessings of this Christmas season be with you and your family, and may you, too, know the joy of God’s new creation in your life!
Love,
Me.”
December 4, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God Who is: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
In my varied parochial experience I once served as Vicar of a rural mission parish in a classic mid-American small little town in central Kansas. Two of the pillars of the tiny congregation were also well-known pillars of the community. They were a revered old couple that had been around just about as long as anybody could remember… their Christian names were Mildred and Chester, but it didn’t really matter, because everyone called them “Nana” and “Pappy.” Besides being at the social hub of town all year round, Nana and Pappy always had a lot of company for Christmas; in fact, as grandparents of a large “clan” their place was where Christmas “happened” for many people and generations. It always took weeks of preparation.
Nana loved the holidays and the gathering of people in her home – and she was busy with all the things she would do to make Christmas “happen” once again. She started the day after Thanksgiving and worked right through Christmas day. Pappy, on the other hand was a kind of grouch about the whole thing and Nana used to laugh that he was the inspiration for Dr. Seuss’ book, “The Grinch who stole Christmas.” So, a standard part of Christmas was Pappy’s grumbling about how much time Nana took baking cookies, shopping for gifts, and decorating the house.
If he said it once, he said it a thousand times, “That woman of mine is going to have us all in the poor house before the New Year!” But Nana was undaunted, “Oh, Chester,” she would scold, “don’t be such a grouch. Run down to the Co-Op and get me another bag of flour!” Then Pappy would snort his grouch snort, blowing a few ashes from his pipe as he rustled his newspaper back into place, cutting everyone from view; but probably more so that they couldn’t see him smile. Pappy’s grouching was as much a part of the preparation for Christmas as was Nana’s baking.
This went on year after year, as long as everyone in the family could remember, because as long as everyone could remember there was always Nana and Pappy’s place as sure as there was a Christmas. That was until the year Nana died and the sense of Christmas dramatically changed for the whole family. It was clear that Pappy would have given anything in the world to have had Nana back so he could complain about all the fuss she made over the holidays. But she was gone and he finally spoke the words that had been there all along, “Preparing was the biggest part of Christmas. The spirit of Christmas is gone without Nana and her incessant preparations.” Actually, after over 60 years of marriage losing her broke his heart and it was never more clear how much he missed her than at Christmas. He never made it to the following Christmas, just couldn’t bear to face another one without all the preparations and he joined Nana in heaven where they could enjoy Christmas together for all eternity.
Well, Pappy was right about one thing: preparing is one of the most important parts of Christmas. The Gospel of St. Mark begins with the theme of preparation but the Evangelist never even mentions the familiar birth narratives we all hold so dear at Christmas. Actually, the prophet Isaiah spoke it hundreds of years earlier: “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord…” The central meaning of Advent is the preparation of God’s people for the coming of Christ whose birth we celebrate at Christmas.
No one can deny that most of us spend a good bit of time preparing for Christmas. It is not so clear that such preparation is really a spiritual thing, however. Advent affords us the opportunity to explore the vast difference between seasonal preparation and spiritual preparation. All of us have our favorite and not so favorite ways of preparing for the Christmas season. Whatever our circumstances, we are all aware of the seasonal preparation that is a part of this time of year.
We also understand the pressure that this time of preparation brings about. Each of us will have at least one experience looking at the calendar and wondering, “Where in the world has the time gone?!” And that’s the point: “Where in the WORLD…” That is – the outward secular Christmas world… but there is another world that begs our attention and preparation. Spiritual preparation is not so obvious. It is so very easy to buy into the notion that if we have gone through the season, done all the “Christmasy” things and made a rare appearance at church warming a place on the pew for an hour and an half on Christmas Eve, then we have celebrated Christmas and done our spiritual duty.
Authentic spiritual preparation, however, means much more. It begins with a call to attention from a strange little man out in the desert who preaches a stern message about preparing the way of the Lord. This odd fellow named John who wears camel’s hair and eats locusts in the desert is indeed very strange. So strange as to suggest that when we have literally worn ourselves out with preparations for and celebration of Christmas; we have not really prepared the way of the Lord.
Why did so many folks make the long trek from Jerusalem and far environs way out to the southern wilderness past the Dead Sea to have this John the Baptizer get in their faces about repentance? Obviously there was something more that they were seeking, something missing… maybe this eccentric hermit had the answer. They considered themselves “good” religious people, no doubt, and yet they hear John say that even he as a holy man, is unworthy to untie the sandals of the great One yet to come. It must have been a shock for the pilgrims to hear those words; for if John, the holy man they trekked so far to see, was “unworthy” where does that leave them?!
An essential element in preparing for Christmas – for the coming of Christ – is taking a serious personal inventory of our inner life. Not anybody else’s – we’re very good at doing other people’s inventories – but “my own inventory.” It is the reflective part of preparation, getting my own personal house in order. John’s message was quite simple and reaches across the ages to us this season right now: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Not prepare your greeting card list, not prepare your credit card limit, not prepare your holiday party schedule… no, prepare the way of the LORD!
In proclaiming “prepare the way of the Lord” John hearkens the words of the prophets, not the least of whom is Isaiah, so popular with Christians in interpreting his message as foretelling the advent of Jesus Christ. But prophets are never really popular in the age they live and with the people to whom they direct their message; because they are the people’s conscience. Isaiah was no exception and accused Israel of degenerating into a wealthy nation that forgot to exercise justice and charity to the poor and oppressed. Israel’s sin then was not unlike the sin of which our own nation has been guilty: The sin of supporting the wealthy and ignoring the poor. Have we in our own community heeded a “wake up call” before disaster strikes? I fear not! However, where injustice prevails there is still hope - if but humans turn from the crooked paths and make the way of the Lord straight and smooth and uncluttered. Because God is a compassionate God who tells the prophet Isaiah to “Comfort, comfort my people. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to the city that its warfare is ended, that its iniquity is pardoned.”
We believe in a merciful and liberating God, Who is at the heart of the Advent message. This is the One Who became human to be made poor so that mankind could recognize both its sin and its redemption. Christianity is a faith of anticipation. We await the coming of the Lord in glory. We also await the magical season of Christmas, a time of peace and justice, and equity; not passively waiting, but as active participants in aiding to make that happen. In Advent, we Christians bridge the past of our Hebrew forbearers in faith with future expectations of the “Parousia” – the Lord’s return. Jewish expectations become ours as we both await the coming Messiah. And when He comes, may we welcome Him not just through our words but most importantly through our lives and through our actions!
Amen.
In my varied parochial experience I once served as Vicar of a rural mission parish in a classic mid-American small little town in central Kansas. Two of the pillars of the tiny congregation were also well-known pillars of the community. They were a revered old couple that had been around just about as long as anybody could remember… their Christian names were Mildred and Chester, but it didn’t really matter, because everyone called them “Nana” and “Pappy.” Besides being at the social hub of town all year round, Nana and Pappy always had a lot of company for Christmas; in fact, as grandparents of a large “clan” their place was where Christmas “happened” for many people and generations. It always took weeks of preparation.
Nana loved the holidays and the gathering of people in her home – and she was busy with all the things she would do to make Christmas “happen” once again. She started the day after Thanksgiving and worked right through Christmas day. Pappy, on the other hand was a kind of grouch about the whole thing and Nana used to laugh that he was the inspiration for Dr. Seuss’ book, “The Grinch who stole Christmas.” So, a standard part of Christmas was Pappy’s grumbling about how much time Nana took baking cookies, shopping for gifts, and decorating the house.
If he said it once, he said it a thousand times, “That woman of mine is going to have us all in the poor house before the New Year!” But Nana was undaunted, “Oh, Chester,” she would scold, “don’t be such a grouch. Run down to the Co-Op and get me another bag of flour!” Then Pappy would snort his grouch snort, blowing a few ashes from his pipe as he rustled his newspaper back into place, cutting everyone from view; but probably more so that they couldn’t see him smile. Pappy’s grouching was as much a part of the preparation for Christmas as was Nana’s baking.
This went on year after year, as long as everyone in the family could remember, because as long as everyone could remember there was always Nana and Pappy’s place as sure as there was a Christmas. That was until the year Nana died and the sense of Christmas dramatically changed for the whole family. It was clear that Pappy would have given anything in the world to have had Nana back so he could complain about all the fuss she made over the holidays. But she was gone and he finally spoke the words that had been there all along, “Preparing was the biggest part of Christmas. The spirit of Christmas is gone without Nana and her incessant preparations.” Actually, after over 60 years of marriage losing her broke his heart and it was never more clear how much he missed her than at Christmas. He never made it to the following Christmas, just couldn’t bear to face another one without all the preparations and he joined Nana in heaven where they could enjoy Christmas together for all eternity.
Well, Pappy was right about one thing: preparing is one of the most important parts of Christmas. The Gospel of St. Mark begins with the theme of preparation but the Evangelist never even mentions the familiar birth narratives we all hold so dear at Christmas. Actually, the prophet Isaiah spoke it hundreds of years earlier: “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord…” The central meaning of Advent is the preparation of God’s people for the coming of Christ whose birth we celebrate at Christmas.
No one can deny that most of us spend a good bit of time preparing for Christmas. It is not so clear that such preparation is really a spiritual thing, however. Advent affords us the opportunity to explore the vast difference between seasonal preparation and spiritual preparation. All of us have our favorite and not so favorite ways of preparing for the Christmas season. Whatever our circumstances, we are all aware of the seasonal preparation that is a part of this time of year.
We also understand the pressure that this time of preparation brings about. Each of us will have at least one experience looking at the calendar and wondering, “Where in the world has the time gone?!” And that’s the point: “Where in the WORLD…” That is – the outward secular Christmas world… but there is another world that begs our attention and preparation. Spiritual preparation is not so obvious. It is so very easy to buy into the notion that if we have gone through the season, done all the “Christmasy” things and made a rare appearance at church warming a place on the pew for an hour and an half on Christmas Eve, then we have celebrated Christmas and done our spiritual duty.
Authentic spiritual preparation, however, means much more. It begins with a call to attention from a strange little man out in the desert who preaches a stern message about preparing the way of the Lord. This odd fellow named John who wears camel’s hair and eats locusts in the desert is indeed very strange. So strange as to suggest that when we have literally worn ourselves out with preparations for and celebration of Christmas; we have not really prepared the way of the Lord.
Why did so many folks make the long trek from Jerusalem and far environs way out to the southern wilderness past the Dead Sea to have this John the Baptizer get in their faces about repentance? Obviously there was something more that they were seeking, something missing… maybe this eccentric hermit had the answer. They considered themselves “good” religious people, no doubt, and yet they hear John say that even he as a holy man, is unworthy to untie the sandals of the great One yet to come. It must have been a shock for the pilgrims to hear those words; for if John, the holy man they trekked so far to see, was “unworthy” where does that leave them?!
An essential element in preparing for Christmas – for the coming of Christ – is taking a serious personal inventory of our inner life. Not anybody else’s – we’re very good at doing other people’s inventories – but “my own inventory.” It is the reflective part of preparation, getting my own personal house in order. John’s message was quite simple and reaches across the ages to us this season right now: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Not prepare your greeting card list, not prepare your credit card limit, not prepare your holiday party schedule… no, prepare the way of the LORD!
In proclaiming “prepare the way of the Lord” John hearkens the words of the prophets, not the least of whom is Isaiah, so popular with Christians in interpreting his message as foretelling the advent of Jesus Christ. But prophets are never really popular in the age they live and with the people to whom they direct their message; because they are the people’s conscience. Isaiah was no exception and accused Israel of degenerating into a wealthy nation that forgot to exercise justice and charity to the poor and oppressed. Israel’s sin then was not unlike the sin of which our own nation has been guilty: The sin of supporting the wealthy and ignoring the poor. Have we in our own community heeded a “wake up call” before disaster strikes? I fear not! However, where injustice prevails there is still hope - if but humans turn from the crooked paths and make the way of the Lord straight and smooth and uncluttered. Because God is a compassionate God who tells the prophet Isaiah to “Comfort, comfort my people. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to the city that its warfare is ended, that its iniquity is pardoned.”
We believe in a merciful and liberating God, Who is at the heart of the Advent message. This is the One Who became human to be made poor so that mankind could recognize both its sin and its redemption. Christianity is a faith of anticipation. We await the coming of the Lord in glory. We also await the magical season of Christmas, a time of peace and justice, and equity; not passively waiting, but as active participants in aiding to make that happen. In Advent, we Christians bridge the past of our Hebrew forbearers in faith with future expectations of the “Parousia” – the Lord’s return. Jewish expectations become ours as we both await the coming Messiah. And when He comes, may we welcome Him not just through our words but most importantly through our lives and through our actions!
Amen.
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