Christmas Eve 2014: Luke 2:1-20

Scary Angels

As a priest, I have acquired quite a few angels over the years…not real angels, angel figurines and ornaments.  There was a woman in my last parish who would give me a different one every year.  With those and all my other Christmas angels, my house is overwrought with angels at this time of year.  They come in all shapes and sizes.  Some of them are playing instruments, some are singing and some are even in the shape of instruments. Of course there are a couple of things they all have in common.  They are all women, which is kind of odd when you think about it.  The angels in the Bible are usually men.  They are all pleasant looking with flowing robes. None of them look scary at all.  There are no zombie angels, no angels with limbs missing (unless you count the one with the missing foot---but that just fell off at some point when I was unpacking decorations).  None of them have their faces contorted as if they are screaming.

            Of course angels aren’t supposed to be scary.  They are supposed to be comforting like those people in Touched by an Angel, Michael Landon on Highway to Heaven or Clarence on It’s a Wonderful Life.  Those are the kind of people who you would want to have on hand if you were in a sticky situation.  Yet I am pretty sure that the angels of the Bible looked nothing like the angels we see on TV.  Usually, especially in the Gospels, the first thing that the angels would say was, “Do not be afraid.”  They would not have had to say that if the people weren’t.  And if people were responding with fear consistently, there must have been something about angels that scared people.

            So were they scary looking?  Did they come with weapons and armed guards, or was there something else going on?  Let’s consider the story we heard tonight from the Gospel of Luke.  There were shepherds watching over their flock at night.  This was before electricity, so this must have been pretty dark, probably completely dark.  They were trying to stay awake, pacing a little to keep warm and then suddenly, “An angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.”

            Even if the angel looked friendly and warm, it is understandable that they were terrified.  They were surrounded by darkness and out of nowhere, an angel appeared surrounded by what we can assume was a great light.  Often the glory of the Lord is described as a great light, almost blinding.  And you know how it is when you are in the dark and all of a sudden someone turns on a light.  Even if it is not a particularly bright light, it takes a while to adjust.  You might even squint your eyes and ask the person to turn it off.  In that moment, the light can feel unwelcome.      

            The people living at the time of Jesus’s birth had gotten used to the dark.  It had been almost 500 years since the last great prophet preached to the Hebrew people.   For those years and more, they had longed for this moment, this coming of the Messiah but that longing had turned into something more like a fairy tale longing; a princess waiting for her prince to come but with no real grasp of what that prince would be like or what his coming would mean.

            So yes, they were afraid.  They were shepherds and they were used to waiting and preparing.  They were used to a routine.  While their lives were not easy by any means, they knew what to expect.  They knew what was expected of them.  But with this angel who came with the light of the glory of God, they knew in a moment that the world would never be the same.  They were terrified and in some ways, they were right to be terrified. 

            The angel told them not to be afraid. He said, “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” Surely these words must have allayed their fears.  We know these words.  Most of us hear them every Christmas.  A Savior and a  Messiah…that has got to be good news.  There is no reason to fear that. 

            Maybe by then the shepherd’s eyes had adjusted to the light.  Yet just as they were accustomed to that light and the sound of that one angel, an entire army descended (that is what host means…it means an army).  This army did not come brandishing swords.  They brought news of peace to all whom God favors. 

            Despite the tidings of peace, my guess is that those shepherds were still a little afraid.  They had just seen something extraordinary and they knew that their world would never be the same.  The time of waiting was over.  They had a choice.  They could stay in that field and let their eyes get used to the dark again.  They could remain there because that was their job. And if they did not stay, who would care for the sheep?  They could have come up with 100 excuses to stay in that field instead of searching for a nameless child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.  But they didn’t. 

            They had seen the light.  They had heard the good news of God almighty and they could not just sit there and pretend as if their life had not changed.  No matter how scary that light was, they determined to find it again.  They had to be near it.  Not only that, but they had a message to deliver.  They did not know to whom they were delivering the message or exactly why, but they knew they had a message that was so important that an army of angels had come to them to bring it.

            So they went and they found Mary, Joseph and the child in a manger.  They saw the light in the flesh. Maybe they did not quite understand it, but they knew that what they witnessed was divine and they shared what had brought them to this place.  They shared the news from the angels with Mary and Joseph and by doing so they helped the parents of Jesus understand what had just happened.  I bet that every part of that journey (while exciting) was still terrifying. 

            Usually when we think of angels, and even God to some extent, we think of protectors, beings that will keep us safe.  But in the Bible, the angels challenged God’s people to discover a different part of themselves.  They were terrifying not because they were scary to look at but because they moved people outside of their own little worlds.  They exposed people to the light.  Obviously that light was more than just light.  It was a transformation of being and attitude.  It was a realization that they no longer lived only for themselves, but for the Savior of the World.

            Christmas should be a warm and fuzzy time.  The Christmas story should make you feel good.  But let’s not get too comfortable with this story, because at the heart of this story is disruption and discomfort.  It is risk.  It is fear and yes it is glory.  You could go home, open some presents, watch football and eat too much and call that Christmas.  Or you take this time to look for God’s angels in your own life. They might not glow softly in the night with long flowing robes and wings. In fact, I can assure you they won’t.  The angels that we Christians really need are the angels whose wings cause a windstorm of change and whose light is not a soft glow but a blaze of glory that wakes you up and inspires you to be a better version of yourself.  Merry Christmas! May it be a gloriously transformational one.      

Dec. 14, 2014: Joy

It's Ok to be Sad on Christmas

Year B, Advent 3                
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11, Psalm 126, & 1 Thess 5:1-24

 

            Finally, we have some perkier readings.  They are not about sorrow, repentance, sin, or the end of the world.  Now we can really get into the Christmas cheer!  We even light a pink candle, and that is so much prettier.  Some people even call this joy Sunday because of the apparent shift in the tenor of the readings.  The word joy is used 3 times in our 7 verse Psalm.  We also hear references to joy in Isaiah.  After some serious downers over the past couple of weeks, Isaiah appears to be all about gladness and rejoicing today.  Even Paul, who has never been described as perky starts this portion of his letter to the Thessalonians with “Rejoice always…”

            I looked at these texts and I thought, thank goodness we are through with all of those depressing texts.  Now we can really get ready for the fun part of Christmas. I can put up my Christmas decorations without feeling mildly guilty.  I can listen to Christmas music, especially the happy stuff.  But that eagerness passed pretty quickly as I realized I was not ready to let go to the contemplative and countercultural aspects of Advent.

            The longer I spend as priest in the church, the more I realize that while Christmas is a happy time for many, it is a difficult time for many as well.  I have talked to several colleagues and we have all agreed that more people die or get very sick during this time than any other.  That means that there are more families who are mourning either a very recent loss or the anniversary of a loss.  Even if you did not lose a loved one during this time, you are certainly reminded of that loss in a time when we talk about the importance of being with your friends and family.  The implication is that if you are not with friends and family, then you aren’t really celebrating Christmas.

            I have not experienced the loss that many of you have, but I find that Christmas always makes me a little melancholy.  I experience that feeling whenever I am in a place or a time when I feel this pressure to be cheerful and happy, when I feel as though I have to hide any negative emotions, even minor ones. 

            I am not sharing this because I am trying to make you all sad and suck the cheer out of the holiday, but because I know that there are a lot of people who suffer at this time of year, and if we talk about it and bring it out into the open, then maybe more people will feel comfortable in church.  A lot of people are afraid to show any kind of negative feeling in church.  They feel as though they need to put on their best face when they come to church.  People often tell me they don’t come to church because it makes them cry and they do not want to cry in front of other people.  While I understand that discomfort, I think that church should be the one public place where crying is absolutely ok.  Before I was a priest I used to occasionally cry in church because it was a place where I felt safe and free to be vulnerable.  I wish that for all of you.

            Let me tell you a little secret about these texts about joy.  They are not texts about pure joy or perfect bliss.  They are a little more complex than that.  Let’s consider Isaiah. Isaiah proclaimed that he was bringing “good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken hearted… to comfort all who mourn…- to give them…the oil of gladness instead of mourning….”  He would not have been asking God to bind up the broken hearted or comfort the mourners if the people were not broken hearted and mourning. 

We have been hearing from Isaiah for several weeks and we know that the people of Judah have been going through numerous ups and down.  They were exiled in Babylon where they spent all their time hoping for a return to Jerusalem.  When they returned, they were devastated to see the place was in ruins.  They continued to struggle as they rebuilt and there is no evidence in the Book of Isaiah that it was an easy task.  There was no happy ending for the people of Israel, at least not the kind of happy ending we expect around Christmas.  Yes they came home.  Yes, they were eventually able to rebuild; but it was never easy.  By the time Jesus was born, they were under the control of the Romans and desperate for a Messiah to save them. 

            The Psalm also appears happier than it is.  It begins with them reminiscing about the good times when God was present in their lives and their mouths were filled with laughter.  But things have changed and now they are asking God to restore their fortunes.  The end of the Psalm reads, “Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.”  The people are weeping now and asking God for a time when they will be singing songs of joy...but right now they are weeping. 

            Paul is both easier and harder to explain.  He explains why we should rejoice always.  We rejoice because that is the will of God.  You might think, well that is even more pressure!  I have to be cheerful because God wants me to be cheerful.  But joy is not the same thing as cheerful and happy.  I just received one of those Christmas cards with a child laughing and then it just says, “Joyful” (or something like that).  Those are cute cards, but they don’t always send the right message.  Being joyful is not always about laughing and having fun. It’s about rejoicing in the Lord. 

Now I realize that sounds horribly vague.  A couple of years I got another Christmas card from a friend with three children.  On one side of the card was a picture of the three children looking cute and happy.  On the other side was a picture of the whole family, a couple people with strained smiles, one child clearly having a fit and the father pretending to sob (at least I assume he was pretending).  That I think is a better picture of Christian joy.  It’s messier than the joy that is advertised on tv, catalogues and cards.  Sometimes real life can bring us, pain, loneliness and fear.   None of those things sound joyful, but someone experiencing those things can still know the joy of God.  Sadness isn’t always a bad thing.  It’s a part of who we are.  More importantly, it is part of who Jesus was and is.  Jesus experienced the complex array of human emotions. 

            Frederick Buechner, a Christian writer and preacher, wrote that tears are often God speaking to us about the mystery of where we have come from and where God is calling us next.[1]  This is not always the case, but consider those moments when either you just cry out of nowhere or you feel that need to cry and you don’t.  And I am not just talking about tears of sadness…but all those powerful emotions that come with tears: anger, fear, elation, grief, relief, etc.  What if God is speaking to you in those moments?  And if we take those moments to consider what God is saying, or even just consider God, then we will find Christian joy.  Anytime we interact with the sacred and the holy…that is a time of joy even if it is cloaked in tears.

            If you are sad on Christmas, please don’t feel ashamed or like you are less of a Christian.  Let yourself cry, even in church on Christmas Eve.  Find comfort in that release, that moment where God nourishes those dry places in your life.  If you are happy on Christmas, then that’s great too.  But don’t just let it end there.  Look for Jesus in your happiness.  If you can find him there, then you will find true Christian joy.  When those two things come together, it is immensely beautiful.  If you are happy, find someone who is not.  Don’t tell them to cheer up.  Don’t tell them how happy you are.  Tell them that you care about them.  That is greatest gift you can give.  That is the gift that Jesus gave us when he became human.  In this act he was saying, “I love you so much that I am here with you, in your pain, your fear, and your laughter.”  That is where we can always find joy, in the presence of Jesus here with us. 

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[1] http://frederickbuechner.com/content/tears

December 7, 2014: Isaiah 40

It is time to cry out!

Year B, Advent 2                                                  

The texts for today are beautiful texts.  They speak to the greater message of Advent, to preparation for the coming of God and to hope in general.  I wanted to talk about what it is to have hope when things seem lost, but I had a really hard time writing that.  It is been an exceptionally difficult few months in our nation. This week was no exception.  I don’t understand why violence is such a big part of our culture.  The average child will see 40,000 murders on TV before they finish elementary school and that is not including video games.   It almost seems as though we have become immune to it to some extent.  Yet there are times when something shakes us from this numbness to violence. 

Just a few months ago the nation gaped in horror when a video was released that showed the beheading of a journalist.   This week the video of Eric Garner’s death was released.  It was gut wrenching to watch that video.   It’s not just in the movies or video games, it’s real and it’s on youtube.  What frightens me is that our reaction to violence is often more violence.  I looked at the comments under the video of the journalist’s beheading and people wrote things like, “Let’s bomb them!”  What frightens me even more is there was a part of me that really understood that and empathized with that emotion…that need for vengeance.  After 9-11, I remember feeling so happy to watch the news coverage of bombs dropping in retaliation.  We see again and again that violence begets more violence.

            It’s hard to know what to feel right now.  I have immense respect for our military and our police.   They have very difficult jobs. I just don’t understand how our society got to a point where all of this was the norm, when people felt like they needed guns to protect themselves.  Fear is rampant in our society and in many ways it is merited.  Yet this fear is not protecting us.  It is just causing more pain, more violence.  I don’t know what the answer is.  What I do know is that we are never going to get the answer if we don’t start talking about these difficult issues, even in the church. 

            The church is supposed to be a light in the darkness, not a shelter from the darkness.   Both the reading from Isaiah and the Gospel are about proclamation of the message of God.  Isaiah is a little confusing in the way it is written.   It would be easier if it was in script form so we knew who was talking in any given moment.  It starts with that famously repeated line, “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.”   It would seem as though God is telling someone to comfort his people.   Scholars have hypothesized that God was talking to a divine council, kind of like God’s entourage.  He was asking them to comfort his people.  You might think, hey, isn’t that God’s job?  Shouldn’t God have been comforting the people? In a way he was.  He was imploring his people, the people who were not beaten down by weariness and pain, to share his love and comfort with those who were.

            What I like about this specific council that we hear from in Isaiah is that they seem to interact with God and one another.  One member of the council said, “Cry out!” And then another said, “What shall I cry?  All people are like grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field…” This voice sounded frustrated.  I mean, what’s the point of crying out when you are crying to grass, grass that withers so easily? The people of Judah screwed up again and again. They committed their love and loyalty to God again and again just to abandon him.  Because of that, this speaker’s frustration is understandable. The divine council has no reason to trust the people of Judah.  Then the voice that began responded, “The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.”  It would seem that this member of the council had little confidence in people, but a great deal of confidence in God.  This voice was saying, it’s ok that people are weak.  It is God who sustains us, even in our weakness.

            Then this text shifts again because someone else is talking.  “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings, lift up your voice with strength…lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God!’” It would appear that this member of the council is done talking amongst themselves. It is time to talk to all of the cities, all of the people.  It is time to proclaim the good news.  And the good news is not that God will save them or even comfort them, but that God is here, ready to lead.  He will not only lead them, but he will feed them and even carry them if he has to.  Because that is what the good shepherd does.  The shepherd carries us in our weakness, in our indecision and fear. 

            I have a little more confidence in people than this divine council in Isaiah did.  I believe that we can conquer fear.  But only if we address it.  Only if we stand up to it and cry out-- even when it seems like those cries are not heard or just ignored.    Much like the divine council, we must speak to one another so that we can encourage one another.  Because in the midst of all that is going on in our world and our nation, it is tempting to give up the quest for justice, mercy and love.  It is tempting to grow a little numb to violence and hatred.  But we cannot. 

Jesus was born as a baby so that he could experience what we experience, so he would be vulnerable to pain both physical and emotional.  He did that to remind us that God’s love is stronger than the fiercest hatred.  Jesus knew what it was to live in a violent world as a member of a persecuted people. He knew what it was to die a violent death.  We know that he conquered all of this when he rose from the dead.

            It’s true that sometimes I can feel a little hopeless about what is going on in our world.  Yet, I feel more hopeful now than when I started this sermon.  I also believe that God is stronger than my hope or lack of hope and that together as the body of Christ, we become stronger.  We become louder.  Isaiah called people to go to the mountain top and cry out. I wonder if that is why so many of our churches are so tall, so that we can be that mountain top in the world.  Here at St. John’s we have a mountain top (ours is even newly renovated).  More importantly, we have the voices.  Now all we have to do is to cry out.