December 25, 2011 - Christmas Day

In the name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

            Merry Christmas! Sometimes days like Christmas are the hardest to understand and preach on. We get so many mixed signals about what today is about, what it means. Commercials tell us one thing, family traditions tell us another, the Bible something else. Today, instead of talking about what I think Christmas is all about, I want to focus on what Luke thought it was about.

            There is a book called The First Christmas by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan that I’d recommend to you all. In it, the authors explore the birth narratives of Matthew and Luke. What they claim is that the nativity story is really an overture to the gospel. Many symphonies begin with an overture. The overture summarizes the entire work by giving you hints and nuances of what is to come, and it sets the tone for the rest of the story.

            Part of the problem that we’ve gotten into in the Church is fighting about the Bible. Are the stories true or are they fiction? Was Jesus really born in a manger, or was he born somewhere else? Was Mary really a virgin, or not? Did wise men really come to visit the newborn? We’ve fallen into a dichotomy where things are either true or false, but are those really the only two options? The authors of that book don’t think so, and neither do I, nor does Jesus. Consider how Jesus taught during his ministry- he told parables. Parables are earthly stories with heavenly meanings. No one fights over whether or not there really was a prodigal son. No one says “well, if there wasn’t a son who came back to his father, then I’m going to ignore the story and dismiss it.” It is a story that in some sense, happened, and continues to happen, but speaks to a larger Truth. Parables are not intended to be historical accounts; even the Bible isn’t intended to be a history book. The idea that the Bible is a diary of what happened is a very modern idea, and certainly not the one Luke had.

            After all, think about it- how would Luke be able to write what he did? Luke never met Jesus, he was a friend of Paul, who himself never met Jesus. Luke was written at least 50 years after Jesus lived. Do we really think Luke somehow went around and found those shepherds and asked them what the angels said, did he go and ask Mary about the encounter? How about the fact that no author from that period ever speaks of a census by the Emperor. And why are these stories only in Luke? Mark and John don’t mention a single word about the nativity, and Matthew presents a very different picture of the nativity. I’m not trying to disprove the nativity, I’m trying to allow it to function the way Luke intended, as overture.

            Parables are so often used because everyone likes the story and no one thinks that it’s talking about them. Parables though are often very subversive, they challenge those in power, and that is the case in the parable of the nativity in Luke. Now I want to make this clear so that you don’t report me to the bishop- I do think that Jesus was born to a woman named Mary, I do think that he is the Messiah, I just am not sure that the Bible tells the literal story of his birth. Instead, the Bible tells the more-than-literal Truth, capital T, of his birth.

            Look at what we see in the nativity: the role of women is elevated. Mary and Elizabeth have the major roles in Luke. The angel speaks to Mary, not Joseph as in Matthew. The power of the Holy Spirit is seen in Luke, as it moves and orchestrates the events of Jesus’ birth. Jesus is clearly seen as a king. In Luke, there are no wise men, that only happens in Matthew; instead, Luke has the shepherds, the poor peasant class, come to worship the newborn king. Doesn’t that sound like the rest of the Gospel? Jesus ministers to the poor and the outcast throughout Luke. There’s your overture; these notes we hear in the nativity will show up again. Jesus is called the Messiah at his birth, and will also be the Messiah in his death. Luke is setting up the Gospel with the nativity.

            There is another reason to read the nativity as a parable, and that is out of necessity. For Jesus to be taken seriously, he had to have some larger-than-life elements. The Emperor of Rome was called the Son of God. The Emperor was also called the savior of the world, bringer of peace, and Lord. The Emperor was thought to be the son of Apollo, making him the light of the world. The Emperor, also, was born of a virgin. When telling the story of the birth of a heroic figure, there simply were certain elements that had to be in the story in that culture. Like today, horror stories start with “it was a dark and stormy night,” fairy tales begin with “once upon a time,” and in Luke’s time, stories about the birth of savior figures began with virgin births and glorious titles. So if we read the nativity literally, we are forced to believe things that seem very implausible, but if we read them as parabolic overture, we see that Luke is pointing to the Truth, again, capital T, about Jesus. Jesus is other worldly, he is something special.

            So if I’m right, that the nativity is an overture, then how do we have the sounds of the nativity stick with us throughout our life? The theme that I find in our passage this morning is joy. Joy of the birth of a firstborn child. Joy of the birth of the Messiah. Joy in the song of the angels. Joy in the shepherds as they saw their Lord lying in a manger. Joy in Mary’s heart as she heard all that was said about her son. Joy in Mary and Joseph, who found a way to remain committed to each other through the difficulties of the circumstances.

            CS Lewis said that joy is the “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.” Joy, as we all know, is often most appreciated in times of hardship; in those times where we are surrounded by adversity, joy shines the brightest. Joy is not the same as pleasure. Pleasure comes and goes, it doesn’t fill us; joy is different. There are two kinds of joy. And neither joy is something you possess. Joy is simply a reminder, a reminder of the grace which is set before us. The first is a sort of ecstatic experience- your team winning a close game, the birth of a child, getting a raise at work. And this is good joy. The other kind of joy though is the joy of the Gospel. It is a joy of being filled, of being at peace, a joy of being grateful.

            We see much joy in the birth of Jesus- the joy that the Messiah has come, that things will be redeemed. Christmas is the rebirth of hope in our world, and there is much joy in that. But we all know the story of the Gospel- there will be many fights with Pharisees, there will be run-ins with the government, there will be doubters and naysayers, there will be a crucifixion. But this is a story of joy. And Luke, by putting so much joy into the nativity, sets the tone for the whole of the gospel. The notes of joy found here today are also audible in Nazareth, in Jerusalem, in Gethsemane, on Golgotha. These notes of joy are found in our lives as well, even if they are faint, even if the noise of the world seems to drown them out.

            We have much to be joyful about, and perhaps we also have many things to be sad, frustrated, and depressed about. Joy does not mean that everything is the way you want it. Joy does not take away the pains of loss and trouble. There is joy in being loved by God, there is joy in our Savior Jesus Christ, joy in family, in friends, in having homes and food, in having clean water. Even in the darkest moments of life, there is still joy to be found. For Mary, Joseph and the shepherds, there was much darkness. They were all poor, living under the oppression of Rome. Mary was unwed and just had a baby, which is not the situation she would have chosen. And yet, there was great joy brought to them by Jesus.

            Luke reminds us that the story of Jesus is about joy. The joy of redemption, the joy of peace, the joy of our Messiah; and though there will be dark times ahead, joy is still there. It is a reminder that God’s joy overshadows the darkness of death, of fear, of injustice, of doubt. Christmas is about rejoicing in this joy. Today is a time to proclaim “joy to the world, the Lord is come!” Let the joy of today be the overture for your life, the theme music that plays in the background, even amidst the low notes of life.

May the first and last words on our lips this Christmas Day, and every day, be that of joy. May God bless us and grant us all a very joyful Christmas. Amen.

On the Incarnation

"On the Incarnation" is the title of a work by St. Athanasius, in which he outlines the orthodox arguments for the redemption given to humanity through the work of Christ. This post isn't really about that, but is just a good title for this week's topic.

I was struck this morning by something I hear on NPR. They were discussing Kim Jong Un, and his father Kim Jong Il. The state media in North Korea is praising the new leader, hailing him as "born of heaven." Immediately, I thought of another person that we talk about who is "born of heaven." In their book The First Christmas, Crossan and Borg explore some of the claims surrounding Jesus' birth. They argue (and I'm inclined to agree with them) that the birth narratives found in Matthew and Luke are parabolic overtures to the Gospel.

Symphonies often begin with an overture, which sets the tone for the rest of the work, but also, in a very condensed way, summaries the whole piece. These authors see the birth stories as doing the same. They also remind us of the charged political climate in which Jesus was born, namely that of the Rome. The emperor was seen as a deity, and in order for Jesus to "compete" with this notion of what God should be, some of these elements are found in nativies. The emperor was born of god, so is Jesus. The emperor is king, Jesus is referred to as the king of the Jews. The emperor brought the pax romana (peace), Jesus is the prince of peace. The emperors titles included: Son of God, God from God, Lord, Redeemer, Savior of the World. Sound familiar? The point is that to be divine, you had to have certain credentials, and the writers of the gospels wanted to be sure that Jesus was seen in this same divine light as the emperor.

So with that in mind, I heard the North Korean claim that the heir is "born of heaven" as as similar sort of claim. They want (mostly their own people) to know that this is the only leader. And I got to wondering, in our context, what would we claim about Jesus to make him seem divine? If we were to re-write the birth stories, what would we say about Jesus? That he has a career batting average over .400? That he leads a congregation of 15,000 worshipers? That he gives millions to charity each year? That he has bipartisan support? 

Of course, none of those apply to him that was born in poverty and ate with sinners and tax collectors. Jesus never really ended up being the sort of king that the Emperor was. As we approach Christmas, let us reflect on the incarnation. In the person of Jesus, the fullness of God dwelt (paraphrase of Colossians 1:19); or in other words, in the incarnation we get a glimpse into God. And if we can trust this vista, then perhaps God isn't as concerned with power, prestige, wealth, or even royal birth as we thought. This coming Christmas, let us remember the God we worship: not the expected military messiah, not the royal king; but instead the champion of the poor, the spokesperson for the outcast, the advocate for the poor, the non-violent leader, the suffering servant, the speaker of Truth, the embodiment of love. 

Week of December 11

Not preaching this week- so I'll offer some quick reflections on the lectionary. Readings are available here.

We read about the everlasting throne of David being established, the Annunciation and the Magnificat (we'll use it instead of the Psalm for the day). Our Gospel reading includes the wonderful line: "'For nothing will be impossible with God.' Then Mary said, 'Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.'"

What I like so much about this encounter between Mary and the angel, and the person of Mary in general, is her willingness to live for God. The Church desperately needs more Marys. Mary was a young teen when she was told that she was pregnant (or became pregnant, I'm probably not what you would call orthodox when it comes to the doctrine of the Virgin birth), and for that she could have been exiled, or even killed. But she did not run from the situation. She trusted that God was with her and that God could redeem any situation, including this one. And because of her great faith, courage, and openness to the Spirit, she is now known as the theotokos, or God-bearer.

As we approach the fourth Sunday of Advent, we should all consider how we are all theotokoi. How do we bring Christ into the world? How do we (or don't we) trust in God's redemption? How often do we say "let it be with me according to your word? What helps us to say that? What prevents us from saying that?

In Christmas, we see God's ultimate "yes"- God's yes to redemption, God's yes to incarnate love, God's yes to all of Creation. Let us consider how it is that we are messengers of that yes and how we accept and affirm God's affirmation of us.

December 11, 2011 - Advent 3B

O Come, O Come Emmanuel. Amen.

            So today is an interesting Sunday. The third Sunday of Advent is full of history and tradition. One such tradition is that of gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is a Latin word which means “rejoice!” Historically, Advent had been a season of fasting and introspection as we approach Christmas. Our readings the last two Sunday have been challenging as we heard about the coming of the Son of man, and then last week we met John the Baptist who calls us to repent. Gaudete Sunday began as a break from the rigors of Advent. This is why we light the pink Advent candle this Sunday, as pink is lighter in intensity than purple. And though this tradition started in a different place and for different circumstances, we too need to hear the words of “rejoice!” this morning. We are at the half-way point in Advent; two weeks in, two weeks until Christmas. Are you rejoicing, or are you coping? Do you end you day with a smile as you reflect back, or do you let out a stressful sigh? Let this Sunday be a reminder to us to remember what this season is about, the coming of our King, and for that, let us rejoice.

            The other piece of history is that today is also called “Stir-Up” Sunday. Our Collect today begins “stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.” Traditionally, most Sundays leading up to Christmas had the Latin word excita in the Collect. Excita of course is tied to the word “excite.” As the story goes, pudding was always prepared for the Christmas season, you know, figgy pudding, and it had to stand for a few weeks before being served. So some say that the use of the words “stir up” were also a reminder to cooks and servants that they needed to be stirring the pudding so it would be ready for Christmas. But there is also a spiritual meaning to it. Stir up is a call to wake up and focus, it’s our half-time pep talk as we go through Advent. Maybe the first half of Advent has been great and full of spiritual meaning for you, maybe it hasn’t. Either way, let today be a reminder to let the excitement of the coming of our King stir up your hearts and minds, your hands and feet.

            These tones of rejoicing and excitement are found within our readings from both Isaiah and John. This portion of Isaiah comes from what scholars denote as Third Isaiah. Chapters 1-39 are written before the Babylonian Exile, chapters 40-55 come from Israel’s time in Exile, and 56-66 are written after they return to Israel. So at this point, the people have returned to their homes, and they are joyful. There is good news to share with the oppressed. The brokenhearted will be bound up, or better translated, made whole. The captives will be set free. The prisoners of darkness will be released. The year of the Lord’s favor will be proclaimed. And those who mourn will be comforted. Scholars also see this passage as one of the Servant Songs. The Servant is seen as Israel’s Messiah. Now there is a danger in reading Jesus into Isaiah, but it is acceptable to read Jesus in the light of Isaiah. Afterall, Jesus saw this passage as essential to his self-identity. In Luke, when Jesus begins his ministry in the Temple, he reads this passage. The thing which we are to be excited about on Christmas is this sort of good news, and this is a good reminder to us of that message of hope.

            This passage from Isaiah is also a favorite of liberation theologians. Liberation theology has its roots in the 1950s in Latin America, where government abuse, human rights violations, poverty, and social injustice were spoken out against. Liberation theology calls for Christianity to transform our world, to change our politics, our personal actions, and our prejudices so that justice and equality might thrive. It realizes that Christianity has become the slave to money, to success, to power, to prestige, and that it has ceased to be the radical and counter-cultural movement which it once was under the leadership of Jesus the early disciples. Liberation theologians called attention to the fact that the Church was not transforming our world, the Kingdom of God was not coming on earth as it in heaven, at least not through the Church. Instead, culture was transforming the Church. The Church was more interested in self-preservation and its growth of power and influence. And they were right. Christianity should be odd, not the norm. Christianity should be transformative to our world. So this reading from Isaiah is an invitation for us to consider our own issues of liberation and transformation.

            One of the great things about the Advent season, about all of these readings about the coming Messiah is that we are reminded that we need a Messiah. If any of you do not need to be set free from something, if you don’t need a Messiah, then I’m not sure why you are here. We need to be redeemed. So the first question in considering our liberation is- what enslaves you? Is it work? Is it some image, either self-generated or from others, of what you should be instead of what you are? Is it addiction? Is it the need for revenge? Is it doubt? Is it fear of not having enough? Is it watered down religion? Is it guilt? Is it fear of death? I know it’s not easy to think about these things. These are the sorts of things we all try so hard to forget, the pains, the rejections, the stereotypes, the mistakes, the prejudices.

One thing that the Republican nomination process has shown us is that we all have skeletons in our closet. Isaiah speaks of the coming of the year of the Lord, which is also known as the jubilee year. It is a deeply Hebraic and Biblical idea of liberation for all people. The jubilee happened every 49 years, and it was mandated that all stolen property be returned, all slaves be set free, all debts be forgiven, all fields will rest for a year. Isaiah is proclaiming the ultimate jubilee year, a time where we all are set free from our debts, our enslavements, our crises.

But the interesting thing about this concept of being liberated, is that we have to let go. God can only free you if you let loose of the chains. If you continue to define yourself by your mistakes, by your shortcomings, by your fears and doubts, then you will never be liberated. Your faith will never transform you. We hang onto these things because we think we can control them, because we’ve hidden them so deep in our mind that they’ve taken root in our souls. Advent is a season about preparing for the coming of Christ the King, and this King will liberate us from all of these things, but we have to let him.

One thing that desperately holds us back from doing this during Advent is Christmas. We need to be liberated from Christmas. I’m not talking about the celebration of the birth of Christ, I’m talking about Santa, shopping, and sentimentalism. I really don’t mind the commercialization of Christmas. Shopping helps the economy and giving is not really a bad thing. But the sentimentalization of Christmas is a major problem.

I recently read an interview with the author of a new book- and I love this title because it is so straightforward and truth-telling, the book is called Christmas Is Not Your Birthday. And isn’t that true? Christmas morning seems like a birthday party on steroids for each of us.  People are starting to realize that what we do during December is unhealthy and unchristian. There are big movements online right now called “Advent Conspiracy” and “Occupy Advent,” which urge us to spend less, give more, and love all people. And they have some truth to share. Americans spend $450 billion on Christmas. Some analysts suggest that global hunger could be eliminated with only $30 billion a year. And remind me, how is that dichotomy helping us to celebrate the coming of our King? Is it Jesus’ birthday, or ours? This isn’t to mention the fact that we spend over $500 billion a year as a nation on making war. For every $1 that Americans earn, we spend, on average, $1.22. I forget that part about spending beyond your means in the Sermon on the Mount. How would Greensboro and our world be different if for every dollar you spend on gifts, you also donated a dollar?

Or how about the ethics of Santa? We teach our children that Santa brings toys to good kids and coal to bad ones. What about a generous and loving God who gives grace and salvation to all people? How about our Christmas outreach? We adopt a family by spending an extra $50, which is a nice gesture, I’m not trying to diminish that. But is $50, or even $100 really a sacrifice? Wouldn’t the bigger sacrifice be to live in such a way that poverty didn’t exist?

I really don’t mean to be raining on the Christmas parade. It’s just that Christmas has the potential to be truly transformative, Christmas has the ability to change our world for the better, but not in its current form. It is sentimental and devoid of meaning or sacrifice. I want to reclaim Christmas for Christ, the King of the outcast, the champion of the poor, the spokesperson for the oppressed. If Martians landed in America today and did a study on Christmas, what would they think it was about? I don’t think Jesus would be on page 1 of their report. Let’s change that, let’s liberate Christmas and thereby transform our world.

What we must ask next in our survey of liberation is- who is the oppressor? Now, I’m not encouraging you to scapegoat here, a lot of the problem is with the person in the mirror, but there is injustice that needs to be spoken out against, this is what’s going on with the movements of the Arab Spring. It’s also what Isaiah was talking about. When he speaks about the captives being set free and the oppressed getting good news, he’s talking about the abuse of the poor. When the Israelites returned home, the rich people became gluttons for power and money. They reclaimed all of their old lands, and grabbed up land that wasn’t theirs. There was a system that kept the poor under the heel of the rich, a system that kept the outcasts outside. And folks, I don’t think I have to say it, but these systems are alive and well today. Isn’t this what the Occupy movements are all about? Now it doesn’t matter where you fall on the political spectrum, and I don’t fully agree with all that Occupy stands for, but you can’t deny the absurdity of the top 1% owning 35% of the wealth and bottom 80% owning only 15%. That’s simply not the Kingdom of God.

In considering liberation, we must realize that we are liberators sometimes, sometimes we are the enslaved, and sometimes we are the oppressors. Yes, in the US we are the 99%, but compared to the rest of the world we are the 1%. In fact, an annual income of $40,000 would put you in the top 97% of the world’s wealthy. There are a lot of ways to address this. We can live more simply, we can buy local to cut down on carbon emissions, we can avoid products that are made by slave labor, we can give more to charity. But I’m just wanting to do is to remind of ourselves of this fact- we are the 1% and we are the 99%. But neither of those are our calling as Christians. Instead, our task is to be the agents of God’s liberation for all people. Our mission is to stand up for justice, to stand up for better regulation, to stand up for the Kingdom of God.

And the final thing for us to consider in liberation this morning is-who is the liberator? Let’s turn to our reading from John. People really didn’t know who this John the Baptist character was. They could tell he was important, that he was proclaiming God’s vision, but was he the Messiah? Was he Elijah the prophet? And he says “I am not.” He is simply the voice crying out in the wilderness. As the gospeller John so eloquently puts it, John came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.

John the Baptist reminds us that religion is bigger than you, bigger than me, even bigger than us. And this is because it is about God. There is a temptation out there these days to be spiritual but not religious, to say that you find God in nature, to claim that being a moral person is how your live out your faith. In other words, folks are making up their own religion; which is preposterous because we have a God for that. We don’t need a man-made religion because we have a God-made religion. John the Baptist reminds us that there is a light shining. We don’t need to search for the light, we don’t need to kindle the fire, we don’t need start a fire; it’s already burning.

And remember, John the Baptist was a bit weird. There’s a reason why he wasn’t a prophet in Jerusalem, he was on the outskirts of town for a reason. And he is a reminder to us that this light of God shines in odd and unexpected places. One theologian said that the light of God can only shine through a cracked skull, and don’t we all have some cracks? The light of God shined 2,000 years ago in an unwed mother, and it still shines there today. It shines in the cracks of interfaith dialogue, it shines in moments where Christians surround Muslims in prayer to protect them from danger. The light of God shines in hippie college kids protesting in Zuccotti Park, it shines in soldiers reaching out to children in Afghanistan. It shines in weird and counter-cultural people like St. Francis, Martin Luther King, and Nelson Mandela.

And this light of God is transformational. This light is liberating. This light overcomes the darkness of fear, of extremism, of doubt, of death, of disease, of betrayal, of injustice, of apathy, of a sentimental Christmas, of dictators, of intolerance, of greed, of evil. This is the light of the world, we don’t need to reinvent it; we just need to be mirrors- so that we can reflect this light and share it with others, so that it can transform us and our world.

As I started this sermon, I talked about Stir-Up Sunday and Gaudete Sunday. As we approach Christmas, let us be stirred up. Stirred up to transform how we celebrate the coming of Jesus, stirred up to stand up to our oppressors, external and internal. Stirred up to take a counter-cultural stance to free the captives and comfort the oppressed, and stirred up to live a truly transformational faith. And let us also rejoice this Advent. Bask in the light of Christ, the light that transforms darkness and liberates us from all fear.

And I know this is hard. I know it’s hard to re-envision how we celebrate Christmas. I know it’s hard to be counter cultural. I know it’s hard to face our captors. I know it’s hard to embrace our liberation because we’re not sure what comes next. It’s difficult to stand up to liberate others. It’s difficult to be transformed in ways that seem odd and challenge all the things we’ve assumed and done for so long. But let us take solace in Christ, our Light and our coming King, whose has gone before us in transforming and liberating. Let us all join in the song of saints and angels- “this little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.”

Week of December 4

So last night I had dinner with a fraternity brother before an alumni association meeting for our Chapter. He graduated a year after me from Wake, so we got to know each other fairly well. He is a commissioned (yet to be ordained) Methodist minister in a small town in eastern NC. I enjoy talking with him once a month or so and getting up with him the few times a year when our schedules bring us together. Over dinner we discussed some of the struggles, joys, and conundrums of parish ministry. Specifically, last night we discussed the difference between American Christianity (that is, Christianity in name only) and Transformational Christianity (that is, authentic and faithful discipleship).

He told me about NT Wright's writing on the four spiritualities, which I was not familiar with. I did a little research this morning and it appears that these are discussed in Simply Christian. From what I can gather, Wright says that each person hears "the echoes of a voice" which calls them to do something. The way my friend explained it is that each person, Muslim, Christian, atheist, or deist all are motivated by at least one of these voices or spiritualities. They are:

• longing for justice (equality issues, social justice, outreach)
• quest for spirituality (prayer, academic study of religion, meditation)
• hunger for relationships (outreach to others, friendship gatherings, dinner groups)
• delight in beauty (art, spending time in nature, music appreciation)

God is in each of these movements, and God's Kingdom can be built through each of these with some intentionality. Hiking is listening to the voice of delight in beauty; but we all know that hiking, in itself, isn't spiritual, nor does it really accomplish the work of the Gospel. But that isn't to say it can't be those things. It can. Our focus is what matters. I think that many of us hear these "voices" daily, but often we over look them as calls from God or as invitations to be spiritual.

As we talked, I wondered which of these spoke to me the clearest. This morning I served with others at Urban Ministry as we prepared breakfast for the homeless, and I realized that for me, the longing for justice is what I most yearn for, it is the voice that I continue to hear.

So going back to this past Sunday's readings, what is the voice calling out in the wilderness saying to you? Which of these four voices calls the loudest to you? How do you ignore or silence these voices? How do you respond to these voices? How do you help others to hear the call? Some good things to consider this Advent season.

Week of November 27

I'm not preaching this upcoming Sunday. We have some wonderful readings awaiting us though. Isaiah gives us the wonderful message of "comfort, O comfort my people." We also get our yearly Advent introduction to John the Baptist who proclaims the coming of the Lord.

In my sermon last Sunday, I mentioned that December is a month of tradition, not innovation. Now don't get me wrong, I love traditions (how could I be an Anglican if I didn't?) and have many in my family. But the danger in tradition in that we stop examining why we do what we do, or even what we're doing and we just start going on auto-pilot. As long as we focus and are intentional about them, traditions are wonderful ways to celebrate Advent and prepare for Christmas. Traditions point to a meaning beyond us, unite us to the past, and give us something to look forward to in the future.

In this post, I invite you all to share some of your favorite holiday traditions (and feel free to reflect on them, either on this blog or to yourself).

One of mine, which I no longer get to do since I've been ordained, is Christmas Eve dinner. In my family my father's mother makes homemade lasagna (they are Italian). We would eat and then attend the "Midnight Mass" afterwards. Now I do dinner between services, perhaps I'll pre-make a small lasagna dish and have Tyler put it in the oven to eat it between services. What are those traditions that you do which make the holidays the holidays?

November 27, 2011 - Advent 1B

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. Amen.

            So today is the first Sunday of Advent. What is Advent you might ask? I’m sure all recognize it as that season that the Church does between Thanksgiving and Christmas, but seems disjointed and has nothing to do with the rest of the world. After all, it’s Christmas already, right? Shopping lists are made, perhaps you braved the crowds this weekend and did some shopping. Santa Claus has come down 34^th Street in the parade. I’ve noticed that many of my neighbors have had Christmas decorations up for over a week now. Maybe the Church should just concede defeat and go ahead and celebrate Christmas for the whole month of December since no one really pays attention to Advent anyway.

            But maybe not. What if Advent was the key to having a joyful Christmas, a Christmas that truly fills us instead of just giving us stockings filled with things we could live without, a Christmas where we really proclaimed the birth of the Messiah in our world? What if we put as much energy into Advent as we did Christmas? I encourage and charge you all to celebrate Advent this year.

            So, what is Advent? Advent comes from a Latin word which means “coming.” Advent is the season where we anticipate Christmas. It’s a tough season because we are celebrating the already but not yet. Already Christ was born in a manger nearly 2,000 years ago, but it’s not yet time to be celebrating that right now. Advent is a wonderful and splendid season. It has been said that if Christmas is the season where we celebrate the rebirth of hope, that Advent then is the season where we hope for rebirth.

Advent is a time to slow down and reflect. There is a reason why December seems more stressful than the rest of the year: shopping to do, parties to plan, holiday gatherings that you have to suffer through, extra stress at work because co-workers take time off. Plus, it gets dark earlier, which just makes it feel as if there are fewer hours in the day. Let Advent be your excuse to slow down. Use Advent as the chance to take the proverbial “chill-pill” and relax. This is not only good for your health and sanity, but will also all you to truly prepare your heart and mind for Christmas when it comes in four weeks.

This sort of high stress and anxiety level is right where we find ourselves as we walk in on Jesus and the disciples this morning. Earlier in chapter thirteen, Peter, James, John and Andrew privately ask Jesus “tell us, when will this be, and what will be the signs that these things are about to be accomplished?” They were referring to Jesus’ comment that the Temple will fall. And Jesus warns them about following false prophets and he says “when you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come.” Jesus talks about earthquakes and famines, and says “this is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” So the question we might ask ourselves upon hearing these words is- “are we there yet?”

And Jesus says “no.” Mark was written around the year 70, when the Temple did fall. When there were wide spread persecutions, when there were wars and rumors of wars. And Jesus tells the disciples “hold your horses, this isn’t it.” Our reading today picks up here. Jesus says “in those days” referring to the real coming of the Son of Man, “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” Last I checked, the sun still shines and the stars still fill the sky. Jesus wants to make it clear- when it is time, you will know it and it will be painfully obvious. So are we there yet? No. Well, when will we get there? “But about that day or hour no one knows.”

What is this all about? What in the world is Jesus talking about? A few years ago when I was in the Diocese of Washington, we had an Advent clergy gathering and the session was led by author Jon Meacham. He said to us “I have a room full of clergy and I’m going to ask the question that I’ve always wanted to ask. If Jesus talked like this, that the end of the world was coming before that generation passed away, and it didn’t, then what does that say about the credibility of everything else that Jesus said?” We all sat there in silence. Eventually, one poor soul tried to piece together an answer which was going nowhere fast, so he concluded by saying “just don’t mess with my Jesus.” But it’s a serious question. There is that famous proposition made by CS Lewis about Jesus- either that he was a liar, that he is Lord, or that is was a lunatic. In this particular passage, to us, 2,000 years later; lunatic might seem to be a valid choice.

Maybe there’s more to it than that. Jesus died in roughly the year 33; and as I said, Mark was written in 70. When Mark wrote those words, those of Jesus’ generation were already dying. And Mark clearly didn’t think Jesus was a lunatic, so maybe Mark is talking about something bigger than the “end of the world,” and we’ve just been misinterpreting this text for too long. Perhaps Jesus was talking about something else.

Advent is the beginning of the church year, and as we change our liturgical calendar to a new year, we focus on a different Gospel. The way the lectionary works, in Year A, which was last year, we read Matthew. This is Year B and we’ll be reading Mark. Next year we’ll read Luke. John doesn’t get his own year, but is sprinkled in throughout the other three. So in preparation for a year of Mark, I recently read a book called Conversations with Scripture: The Gospel of Mark by Marcus Borg. It’s a very approachable and short book which gives a solid overview of Mark. In reading it, I was reminded that Jesus rarely, if ever, talks about Heaven, the nature of the soul and the afterlife, or the end of the world. But what Jesus does talk about more than anything, is the Kingdom of God. Mark is sixteen chapters long, and the Kingdom of God is mentioned twenty-one times. The Kingdom of God is the reign of God’s glory, where peace, love, servant hood, and joy abound.

We all know that Jesus used parables and metaphors. What if we’ve been taking Jesus literally when we should have seen him pointing to the Kingdom of God instead of the end of the world? Well, my brothers and sisters, I hope that you can see that would make all the difference in the world. Jesus and the writers of the Bible didn’t get it wrong; we did. The Kingdom of God is clearly coming, we see signs of that all around, but it’s not here yet. It’s already, but not yet.

So what do we do with this reality? As Jesus says, we keep awake, or watch or be ready, as other translations put it. Let’s take a look at three important questions about watching and waiting. What is it? How do we do it? And why do we do it?

So first, what does it mean to be ready and wait? It’s sort of like the difference between a person standing on the side of the road waiting for a bus and that same person standing on the side of the road waiting for a parade. In waiting for a bus, it’s a passive sort of waiting. You’re just there, hanging out, not doing much, maybe playing with your phone or reading a book. But in waiting for a parade, you’re expectantly waiting. You work hard to listen for the sounds of drums and trumpets. Maybe you’re standing on your toes to see over the crowd or look around the corner. So to keep awake as Jesus suggests, we must be expectant, looking forward to something, to the rebirth of hope in our lives. A good exercise might be for you to make a Christmas list to help you figure out what you’re staying awake and being watchful for. And I’m not talking about new clothes, videogames, or a tablet. I’m talking about what you hope for, what you yearn for. Maybe peace in your family, maybe a job offer, maybe a cure from a disease, maybe end of wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe for the return of civility in politics. But one thing is for certain, you can’t expectantly wait for something if you don’t know what you’re waiting for.

Jesus’ words are difficult for us. Do we really need to be told to “keep awake?” Americans are sleep deprived. I’m so glad to see you all this morning, but I know that there are plenty of St. Francis folks who are in town this morning and are taking today to sleep in and recover from Thanksgiving. We don’t need to stay awake, we need to get some rest. Furthermore, it’s not easy to keep awake in the spiritual sense when we’ve been doing it so long. Advent comes around every year, and every first Sunday of Advent, we get a similar sort of reading- be ready, stay awake. But if this Advent is no different from the one before it, and the one before that one, and the one before that, then why bother staying awake?

Jesus’ call might be better translated as “focus.” Advent is a time to be intentional, to not simply go through the motions. Most of us can do December in our sleep- we know where the decorations go, the same place they do every year. We have our shopping routines, we have our recipes that we follow. December is not a month of innovation, but Jesus is inviting us to focus on what we do. And as we focus, consider how it is that we can participate in the things that you hope for. Maybe you take some time to volunteer at the shelter, maybe you pick up a religious book, or even the Bible, and read some to feed your soul, maybe you only write 20 Christmas cards, but you send them with personal notes to people who have truly changed your life. Change it up a bit, but whatever you do, focus on it.

So how do we wait? One of my favorite books is The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis. In this book, Screwtape, a senior demon, writes to his younger nephew, Wormwood, counseling him on the ways to lead humans away from God. In one letter, Screwtape writes “our business is to get them away from the present…it is far better to make them live in the future…Nearly all vices are rooted in the future. Gratitude looks to the past and love to the present; fear, avarice, lust and ambition look ahead.” That’s another reason not to get caught up in reading this passage as a prediction of the future. When we look ahead to the end of the world and try to understand it, we become obsessed with it and we cease to live in the present, which is the only time we can experience love and God. But it also speaks to how it is we can stay awake and be watchful.

It is a similar point to my previous one about the need for focus. You all know about Advent calendars- those little calendars where you open a door each day and find a chocolate. If you open them all on December 1, you then feel depressed about not having any more chocolate. And don’t save them all for December 25, or you won’t enjoy them throughout the month. But if you open them a day at a time, you get a daily treat. Maybe those calendars have some wisdom in them that we can use for our own celebration of Advent. Instead of worrying about the stuff to-do this holiday season, perhaps we can enjoy the things we do. Take it a bit a time and focus on finding the little chocolates of the day- the moments of grace, the moments of love, the moments of the Kingdom of God.

The thing to remember in answering “how do we wait,” is that we need to be active. There is a great word play in Spanish that we don’t have in English. In Spanish, the word for wait is esperar, which is the same word for hope, and the word for breath is espirar. These ideas of breathing, of hoping and waiting are so linguistically intertwined that there is hardly a difference between them. As you live and breathe, you wait with hope. You can’t do one without the other. Waiting for the Kingdom of God doesn’t mean sitting around and twiddling your thumbs. It doesn’t mean just keeping an eye out for it. Waiting means making ourselves and our world ready for it. Next Sunday we’ll hear John the Baptist proclaim “prepare the way of the Lord.” That is how we wait, not passively, but we actively work for the Kingdom of God as we expectantly hope for it’s coming.

And finally, why do we wait? Don’t we have enough to do already? The simple answer is because there is work to be done. There is a great story that comes from New England during the colonial age. As the story goes, there was an unexpected lunar eclipse. It might have seemed that the sun really was being darkened. There was a state legislative meeting going on, and several people panicked and moved to adjourn the meeting. But one person stood up and said “Mr. Speaker, if it is not the end of the world and we adjourn, we shall appear to be fools. If it is the end of the world, I should choose to be found doing my duty. I move, sir, that candles be brought in.” We actively watch because we have a job to do. The task of the Gospel- of loving others of serving God, of making this world reflect the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

Advent is a tough season, a season of the already, but not yet. This year, let’s make Advent different. Let’s not just go through the motions. Let’s not just skip Advent and go straight to Christmas. Instead, let’s expectantly wait and hope for the rebirth of the Messiah in our world. Let’s stay awake and focus on what really matters this Advent. Pay attention to the signs of the Kingdom of God which surround you each and every day. Find ways to build up the bricks and roads of the Kingdom.

And should I be wrong about all of this, and sun really does become darkened and the moon stop giving light, then let us be found hard at work this Advent season- preparing our homes, our hearts, our minds, our relationships, our church, our world for the coming of Christ.

Amen.