Words are not Weapons: Dec. 31, 20023

 Year B, Christmas 1                                 John 1:1-18 

                  In the first church I served, Christmas Eve featured the traditional gospel reading from Luke 2 which includes the story of Jesus’ birth with Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the angels.  You all know that one, right?  On Christmas Day, we would have this reading we heard today from the Gospel of John.  We had about 12 people who attended that worship and that is when the assistant (me) would preach.   Eventually I grew to love the Christmas Day service and preaching John 1.  However, my first year I made the rookie mistake of trying to really understand this text from John 1 and make sure all 12 people in attendance also understood John 1.  I never tried to do that again.

            This reading from John seems a peculiar text for Christmas day because not only does it not mention the birth of Jesus, it doesn’t mention the name of Jesus.  But it is indeed talking about Jesus. The Greek word that is translated as word is Logos.  The understanding of Logos predates the birth of Jesus by about 500 years. Greeks came to understand Logos as the reason, the mind of God.  Logos created the order of things.  

John’s Gospel was directed to the Gentiles, the Greeks.  He was trying to describe Jesus using language that they knew.  They had little understanding of the Messiah.  Most of them were not familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures.  But they did believe in reason, the mind of God. John was saying that Jesus brought us the mind of God on earth.  Other Gospels use the birth of Jesus to make God tangible and comprehensible.  John uses reason and logic.

            But maybe instead of focusing on logos (as I did in that very first Christmas sermon many  years ago) we should just stick with the English word for a few minutes.  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” From the very beginning of time, God’s most ardent desire has been to communicate with humanity.  Obviously there are a lot of ways to communicate, but the heart of communication is words.  So the author of John wanted us all to know that bringing Jesus down to earth was another way for God to communicate with God’s people. 

And what was God trying to communicate?  The most obvious answer is love, but it was more than that.   God also communicated laws and rules---things we don’t like to talk much about in the Episcopal Church.  But these laws and teachings were meant to help humans live together in peace.  And I think we can all agree we could use more of that.

            In the Hebrew Scriptures, God communicated through the prophets.  In the Gospel of John we are reminded of Moses passing on the law of God---the 10 Commandments.  Communicating through the prophets was effective at times, but also frustrating. God knew that this method of communicating through the prophets was missing something.  God was always willing to try new things, new ways of communicating with his people.  God is relentless in his desire to communicate with us.

            There is 500 years between the last book of the Hebrew scriptures and the beginning of the New Testament.  And while every pastor will remind you that God’s time is not like our time, I like to imagine God up there (wherever there is) ruminating and wondering…how to connect with God’s people.  If not through prophets or floods, then what? So he came up with the wild idea of sending God in the form of a baby.

            “And the word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” Now back to the Greek for a moment---if you were to look at the original Greek, a better translation for that phrase “and God became flesh and lived among us” might be: “God pitched his tent among us.”

            Just a week ago we heard the story of King David wanting to build a great temple for the ark of God, because the ark was just set up in a tent.  God said, “No thank you, I am good with my tent.”  You see, God didn’t like to be confined.  He wanted to be on the move.   Eventually they did build God a great temple, but it seems that God was just desperate to be with the people….because that was the best way to know them and be known by them.  Thus God was born as a vulnerable baby, to a girl, so that he could not merely be among the people, he would be a person.  There would be no intermediary between God and God’s people.  There would be God in the flesh, living with and among the people of God. That was God’s crazy, brilliant and divinely human plan.

            Yet the cynical part of me wonders sometimes what that accomplished. Christianity spread across the globe and God’s word was shared in almost every place we can imagine.  But sometimes I wonder if God is up there scratching his head thinking, I might just need to try something else.

            It’s hard to talk about the birth of Christ---the miraculous and wondrous birth of Christ--- without looking at what is happening in the Holy Land right now.  A land that Christians deem holy because of Jesus’ birth, death and resurrection.  That Holy Land, that land touched by God in the flesh--- has never known peace.  And right now, the devastation is overwhelming. 

One of the terrifying things is that people who are removed from the situation can’t even find ways to talk about it without getting angry or hopeless.  Jesus was and is the “word” made flesh and yet we Christians are so often incapable of using our own words to bridge divides.  We hurl words across our fields of battle and just wait for them to explode on the other side.   Words are not weapons.  John described Jesus as the word for a reason….because words used well, used wisely, can bridge divides.  Communication that is well intentioned, humble and honest can transform a situation.  Yet we have come to a place in the culture of our nation and world when we fear words almost as much as we fear violence.   

As a preacher, I am obviously biased because I have been taught that when we are open to God’s wisdom---that words spoken from a place of humility and some degree of knowledge can make a difference.  Yet what I have to be reminded as a preacher is that it’s not just saying the words, it’s also listening to the words and voices of others. 

I can’t be sure, but I wonder if the reason that there is 500 years between the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New Testament, is because God was busy listening and what God heard was the need for the word transformed into something that could be felt and touched.  God in the flesh who could listen as well as he could speak… and learn even as he taught. 

Let us never cease to be moved by the images of Jesus being born in a manger surrounded by farm animals.  May those images warm our hearts and charge our imaginations.  But may we also be transformed by John’s reminder that God came in the form of a human to communicate and relate---to provide us with an example that could be emulated so that instead of hurling words at one another like grenades in a battle, we learn to listen, even as we disagree.  It’s been 2000 years and I wish that God would come down and straighten us out. I also know that Jesus gave us a voices to use, ears to listen and minds to discern.  It is up to us to use our voices, ears and minds to embody the words---the word that has been given to us—Jesus the Christ.

What Mary Knew: Christmas Eve

 Year B, Christmas Eve                                                    Luke 2:1-20                                                                        

            I am going to share a little clergy secret…which you would only know if you followed dozens and dozens of pastors on social media.  Most pastors in the Episcopal Church or other churches with similar theologies don’t like the song “Mary, did you know?” Some of them really hate it and write scathing comments or even create memes about why, yes of course Mary knew every single thing that was going to happen.  She was the mother of God. 

Now if you don’t know the song—don’t worry I am not going to sing it.  It’s basically a series of questions for Mary as she holds her infant son. It’s everything from: “Did you know he would be God?” to a list of all the miracles he did. “Did you know he would walk on water, cure the blind, etc.?”  The reason so many people don’t like it is because they think it belittles Mary.  Here is my 2^nd little secret…I kind of like the song and since I became a mother of a boy, I tear up every time I hear it because it reminds me of all the things that will happen to my son, that will hurt, that I won’t be able to control.  And if I think too much about that, I kind of lose my mind.  It helps me understand Mary a little more.

            Obviously, Mary knew some important things.  The Angel Gabriel told her that she would conceive a son and name him Jesus.  He would be the son of the Most High and would receive the throne of King David.  His kingdom would never end.  Those are where the details ended as far as the Angel Gabriel.  But later, Mary made a pronouncement called the Magnificat which showed that she had a good idea of who this son would be.  He would be a revolutionary and a prophet.  He would transform the world in that he would bring down the powerful and lift up the lowly. 

The next hint we have is in the Gospel reading we heard tonight. The angels told the shepherds that on that night, a baby was born, who was the Messiah, the Lord.  The shepherds then passed on this message to Mary and Joseph.  The next piece of information Mary got was from two prophets she encountered in the temple when she brought Jesus for his naming ceremony when he was 8 days old. The prophets told Mary and Joseph that their son would be a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.

            So far, it was all good and uplifting news.  No doubt it would have been overwhelming, but still positive. But then the prophet Simeon added a little twist: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”  I am sure Mary was already afraid…just because weight of the knowledge that she was raising the Messiah.  That had to be intimidating. But now she knew her son’s life would not be easy---that he would anger people and that something would happen that would be so devastating, it would pierce her soul.  That’s what Mary knew.  That’s a whole lot.  Yet still, it seems to me that the angels, the shepherds, and the prophets were stingy with the details. 

            Thank God they were.  How could she have coped if when she held her infant child, she knew everything that would happen to him? We know that Mary was a strong person with extraordinary faith, but how much can a new parent possibly bare?  I mean, if that was me and I knew all that would happen, I might ask, “Do we really need a savior?  If so, can someone else be that savior?”

            We don’t know exactly how old Mary was.  At the time, girls would be engaged at 12 or 13 and married at 15 or 16.  Let’s go with 15.  Let’s even take out the child element and imagine yourself at 15.  Would you want your 15 year old self to know everything that would happen to you? I wouldn’t.  Some of it would have made me happy.  It would have been good to know I would be married in my late 20s.  It would have made dating a lot less stressful.  But I would not have wanted to know that I would be infertile. It would have been too much to process at that time. I would not have wanted to know that I would almost die at the age of 44 from a mysterious illness.  There are things in our life we can’t imagine surviving until we have no choice but to survive.

Let’s assume for a moment that Mary was the strongest, most faithful teenager in the world—do you think she could have held a child who she knew would be crucified and not fall into 1,000 pieces?  No, I don’t think Mary knew everything. She knew enough.  She had faith, faith that would carry her through seeing a child insulted, abandoned, betrayed, arrested and killed.   She was one of the only people who stayed at the cross while he died.

            Now you might be thinking…this is Christmas…not Good Friday.  Why are you talking about the sad stuff?  If you look at the end of our Gospel readings it describes the joyful and excited shepherds and the amazement of those around Mary.  Then it says, “But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”  She treasured those words, but she also pondered them. In my mind she was preparing, preparing for all that was to come.

            The reality is that we all face heart breaking things in our life…some more than others. What gets us through those times, are those words that Mary treasured.  They were words about a Messiah and a Savior---a God so committed to his people that he would risk being born to a human, to be completely dependent on a girl to care for him. Mary was a faithful Jew.  She knew the God of the Hebrew scriptures.  But now, this God was here, with her, dependent on her. She knew this God in a way she could not have possibly known before.

And that was the gift that God gave to all humanity on Christmas…God with us. God with us in the grime, grit, pain, joy and laughter of our life here on earth.  This God sacrificed everything for the people of this world.  This God would not make our lives easy, but this God would make our lives holy, equipped with the knowledge that we are beloved and worthy of God’s love…that no matter how hard life might get, how weary we might be, how lonely we might feel, we are never alone.  God was born to a girl in a small town so we would know God and always have him with us.

            I am not too concerned about what Mary knew.  What I care is what you---the people of God-- know.  If you don’t already, I want you to know that God is with you.  You are not alone.  

Unconfinable God: December 24, 2023

 Year B, Advent 4                       2 Samuel, 7:1-11, 17 & Luke 1:26-38, 46-55

                Being a prophet has got to be a horrible job.  In our Old Testament reading, we hear from the prophet Nathan for the first time.  It’s already clear that he has a rough road ahead of him.  The new king, chosen by God, mentioned to Nathan what seemed like a reasonable idea—the ark of God needed a real home.  King David had this lovely house of cedar (which was very opulent at the time) and the ark of God was sitting in a tent.  I mean, that’s just embarrassing.  Nathan affirmed the idea by saying, “the Lord is with you.”  Don’t forget, God had chosen King David. He had pulled him out of obscurity.  Why wouldn’t Nathan affirm his idea? 

Alas, that was a mistake. On the same day as that conversation with David, the Lord came to Nathan and told him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want a temple.  The Lord never asked for a temple.  He liked to move among the people.  He didn’t want to be confined.  But then God added later (and this boggles my mind) that while he didn’t want King David to build him one, perhaps the King’s unborn son would build him a temple after King David died.

            Nathan had the rather unfortunate task of telling King David that God didn’t want David building him a house.  Now you might think, well that shouldn’t upset David too much.  It would have been a difficult task with a high price tag.  Why undertake that kind of project if God was happy with his tent?  There might have been some self-interested reasons for King David’s building project.  Building a temple was a sign of great piety and also a way to gain political capital.  Building a fancy temple made the new king appear powerful.  Not only that but the temple guaranteed God’s presence.  And if God was with them, then all things were possible.  The future was limitless.  But…that is not what God wanted.

            That must have been an uncomfortable conversation for Nathan to have with the with the new king.  Fortunately, God provided some good news that would hopefully soften the blow.  God said, don’t worry about making me a house---"the Lord will make you a house.  Your house and your kingdom shall be made forever before me; your throne shall be established forever.”  Not only does that display an incredible love for David and his future family, it also shows that God’s house isn’t a place---it’s a family…it’s the people of God. 

            But it’s almost Christmas…why is the priest talking about King David and Nathan when she could be talking about the Angel Gabriel and the Magnificat? Why? Because these stories are all connected.  King David’s son built an incredible temple.  It lasted for over 400 years before it was destroyed by the Babylonians.  After the Babylonians, they built another, less impressive temple, that was still in place when Jesus was alive.  But that was not the home that God chose. 

The Gospel of Luke tells the story of God’s newest home.  This one wasn’t in the Davidic Dynasty (although Joseph was part of the house of David), but this home was in the womb of a young woman.  She didn’t come from royalty.  She had no special status.  In fact, we know almost nothing of Mary…except the most important thing, she was chosen by God. She was considered highly favored---which can also be translated to full of grace.  God chose a young woman, a girl really, to be the newest temple—the newest house of God. 

            Much has been made of the fact that she was young, unwed, and someone who had little money or status.  This choice should not surprise us as it is totally characteristic of God.  When God chose David to be king, he was a shepherd.  God chose him not only to be king, but to be the head of the household of God.  God has always refused to be confined by our expectations.  God defies our expectations. 

Of course Mary’s body was only the home of God for 9 months. After that, Jesus found homes with all kinds of people.  He worshipped in the temple---the official house of God.  He was a regular attendee of the temple.  But he spent most of his time wandering from place to place.  In the Gospel of Matthew Jesus said, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”  This was not said as a lament.  It was in response to someone who wanted to follow him.  He was saying that the person was welcome to follow him, but there would be no permanent home. Jesus would not be confined.

            Despite the fact that the God we read about in the Old Testament and Jesus refused to be confined, it’s amazing how desperate we are to confine our God. Sometimes it’s to a place, but more often, it’s to our expectations or narrow definitions.  Voltaire once said, “In the beginning God created man in His own image, and man has been trying to repay the favor ever since.”  To some extent that’s a natural thing to do.  Most people have limited imaginations and we assumes that others---even the divine---think and work like us.

Fortunately, that’s not true.  The person who did have an imagination was Mary.  In the Magnificat she proclaimed, “He has shown the strength of his arm, he scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.  He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.”  Actually, for Mary, it wasn’t so much imagination, it was faith.  She had read the Holy Scriptures.  She knew that God was a God of justice and mercy.  We heard it in our reading from Isaiah last week.  But unlike so many others, she had not relinquished hope.  That was what made her different.  Many people knew the character and love of God, but she understood what that meant for her and her people. 

Often at this time of year, we focus on sweet baby Jesus in the manger.  We talk about the miracle, the angels and the star.  All of those images are important.  But our readings for this morning reminds us to look beyond those more sentimental images and remember that the God we worship is a God who refuses to be confined and who wants to see beyond our limited imaginations.  To dream like the prophets and to read the glorious Magnificat, and wonder what it means for us today. We, the people of God, are called to bring our unconfinable God beyond the church walls, into all parts of our community and world—to be not just a light that shines down on us in this holy day and night, but a light that shines on all, that reaches all people

Dreams, Nostalgia and Joy: Dec 17, 2023

 Year B, Advent 3                            Psalm 126                                                   

    Today is unofficially known as Gaudete Sunday---which is Latin for Joy—Joy Sunday. Upon hearing the readings, you probably noticed a shift in tone from the last several weeks.  We also light the pink candle to signify this movement toward joy and I get to wear my pink stole which my last church gave me because I kept threatening to turn everything pink on the 3^rd Sunday of Advent.  I wasn’t actually going to do that, but I liked to see the panic that flickered across their faces before I admitted I was kidding.  Plus, I just really like pink.

The readings are definitely more joyful this week.  Not a single person gets sent into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Nothing is consumed in fire and it doesn’t appear that anyone is even yelling.  But these texts aren’t coming from a Hallmark Christmas movie, the references to joy are a little more nuanced.  While Psalm 126 uses the word joy 3 times and certainly carries elements of hope, that hope is wrapped in lament.

“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy. Then they said among the nations, "The Lord has done great things for them."  Notice the use of the past tense. Then…then were we like those who dream…then was our mouth filled with laughter. It sounds almost nostalgic.  But it’s clearly more than that.

The church has always been great at talking about the past.  The first church I served at was 100 years old.  They talked just as much about the past as the 413 year old church I just came from.  And of all the wonderful stories that could have been told…do you know what era I heard the most about—the 1960s.  This is partly because many of the members still remembered the 1960’s.  But also because that was when the churches (all churches) were bursting at the seams. During the 1950s, church membership grew at a faster rate than the population itself.  It was a rate of growth that was unprecedented and never seen again.  But for those who had been around during that time, that was the gold standard and the question was always—how do we get back to that?

Nostalgia is not bad in and of itself.  In fact, while nostalgia can often be associated with sadness or loneliness, nostalgia also acts as a defense against unhappiness.  It can bring relief to a negative mood.[1]  Yet sometimes, especially in churches, I fear that nostalgia can hold us back.  It’s a safe place, but our faith is supposed to challenge us…not merely comfort us.

There are examples in the Bible of nostalgia holding people back.  After Moses led the people out of slavery, they were in the wilderness and there was a lot of complaining and even reminiscing about how great life was when they were enslaved. In the Book of Numbers they said, “‘If only we had meat to eat!  We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic; but now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.’” There were times when they would have returned if Moses has been willing.  Nostalgia confines us to what we know.  There is no room for dreaming with nostalgia.

That’s why I don’t think this Psalm is about nostalgia.  It’s about hope. “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.” They were dreamers.  They were remembering a time when they could dream, when their mouths were filled with laughter.  They weren’t remembering when they all had nice houses and good food.  They weren’t remembering when their places of worship were beautiful and full. 

The joy that the psalmist speaks of is a joy remembered and a joy anticipated.[2] It’s a joy that doesn’t come from human action, but God’s action.  They know that joy will return because God is faithful.  This psalm portrays the expanse of human experiences. Yes, there are tears, but some of those tears will reap joy. 

It’s more than just the idea, “Well sure, you are sad now, but you will get over it.”  No, it means that the tears we shed can water the dry and parched ground that surrounds us.  Then joy will grow from the tear saturated ground.  “Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.”  This Psalm isn’t intending to minimalize the grief and pain people experience and imply that every heart ache and pain will bring new joy.  We know that is not true.  But with God, we are on holy ground.  That holy ground is littered with seeds of hope.

That’s why we can’t go backwards.  We honor the past.  We learn from it, but it can’t nourish us. We have seeds that need tending now.  We have dreams that we have forgotten. They hover on the cusp of our consciousness just waiting to come out. 

I know that you at Christ Church had a long transition. So many people have mentioned that to me.  That liminal place can be very challenging.  Some of you are still grieving the loss of beloved clergy and some may still be wondering if I am the person who can lead you.  I believe I am that person---the person who can help you till this ground because God has called me to be with you, and you, the people of Christ Church have called me as well.  God wants us all to dream again.  We need to help one another because it’s really easy to get stuck in the weeds and forget that there is something beautiful and holy beyond the weeds.

 It’s challenging to dream and believe that things can be different, even better. Fortunately we are in a place that has a history of dreaming and defying the status quo.  We are on holy ground.  May the joy of Gaudete Sunday nourish us and the ground we tread.  

 

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[1] https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2023/03/nostalgia-defense-unhappiness-happy-memories/673320/

[2] James Mays. p. 399

What's Wrong with Holy? December 10, 2023

 Year B, Advent 2                                                                                     2 Peter 3:8-15a                                                                                                   

            This year, I have been eager to get the house decorated as soon as possible.  Typically I drag my feet as I have all this ambivalence about decorating during Advent.  Advent is supposed to be a season in and of itself.  That’s why we don’t sing most Christmas carols during Advent or decorate the church until the 4^th Sunday of Advent.  Then again, I really like Christmas decorations, especially the lights during this time of year when our days are short and the darkness sets in far too early. 

The best picture I could find of our Advent wreath.

This year, I’ve been almost panicked about decorating.  As I was tearing apart boxes in the basement because I had to find our Advent wreath in time for the first week in Advent (even though I had never done that in a timely manner before), I found myself wondering---why the rush? It wasn’t just a rush, I actually felt a little panicked, like if I didn’t find this Advent wreath—baby Jesus would not be born. Then I realized what my panic was really about, I wanted our new house to feel like a home, and what better way to make it feel like a home than Christmas decorations and an Advent wreath?   

            You know what Christians in the 1^st century were feeling a little panicked about?  Maybe panic isn’t the right word.  They were anxious about the fact that Jesus hadn’t returned.   Early Christians believed that Jesus would return in their lifetime.  Before Jesus left, he spoke to them of his return and it would have been natural for them to assume that his return would be imminent.  It would be like a good friend leaving and saying, “See you next time” and then never returning.   By the time 2^nd Peter was written 50-60 years after Jesus was resurrected and ascended, most of his followers had died and people were starting to wonder--- if he hadn’t come back yet, was he ever going to come back?

Before our reading for today, the author refers to the “scoffers”—those who were critical of early Christians—who were questioning the legitimacy of the Christian faith because Jesus had not returned.   That was a real critique at that time and a difficult one to defend against.  The author of Peter was trying to help those who were dealing with that critique.  

I have heard a lot of criticisms of the Christian faith, but none are based in the fact that Jesus has not yet returned.  Christians are worried about a lot of things, but I haven’t met a single one who is worried about Jesus’ return date. That is understandable, because it’s been 2000 years.   We have stopped expecting that Jesus will return in our lifetime.

            While I am glad that is no longer a major concern, I worry that we have lost our sense of urgency.  We have lost the fire. One of the things that motivated early Christians to be good and holy was the idea that Christ was returning to judge the living and the dead.  While we still talk about that final judgment, I doubt it’s a motivating factor in our lives right now.  How many of you, when you are faced with a moral dilemma, factor in God’s imminent return?  Anyone? I know I don’t.

            After Peter writes of the 2^nd coming and refers to everything dissolving into fire, he writes, “Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God?”  Forget the fire and everything dissolving for a minute.  Those images, while evocative can distract from the bigger point.  Instead focus on the question: “what sort of person ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness?”  What sort of people are we supposed to be?

When people talk to me about what kind of person they strive to be, they typically use words like good and kind.  Sometimes, someone will use the word spiritual.  But very very rarely (in fact, I am not sure it’s ever happened) has someone told me that they want to live a holy and godly life.   I am not sure I have ever said that about myself and I am a priest.   When we think of holy, we think of objects and sometimes people like Jesus, or the pope.  However, typically when someone is using the word holy to describe a person it comes with a modifier---holier than thou, or a holy roller.  It’s rarely a compliment. Why don’t we want to be holy anymore?

            The literal translation of holy in Greek is to be set apart by or for God.  That’s a problematic description.  Over the years people have taken holy things and holy people and set them apart from the common people.  People thought that holiness needed to be protected, untainted. Therefore, your average person could not possibly be close to that which was holy, let alone be holy.  We stopped striving for that. Sure, we could be in a holy place, but we stopped thinking we could be a holy space ourselves.

            But consider the most holy person of all, Jesus Christ.  Jesus Christ was born to a human woman so that he could bring holiness to the people of the earth.  The most holy being of all dwelled in a woman’s uterus.  At the time, child birth was considered unclean by Jewish purity laws.  Women were considered unclean after they gave birth.  For the most holy being of all to enter this world through an unclean process was revolutionary.  It was unimaginable.  That was how important it was to God that people see holy not as a separate thing or person but as deeply connected to every part of our lives.

            Holiness is not being separate, it’s living in a way that we feel at home with God.  That means that wherever we are, whether we are in church, at home, at work, in public transportation, we can feel at home because we know God is present with us. 

            I was so stressed about having our new house look like a home for Advent, that I missed the big picture.  It’s not about how we get our homes ready.  It’s not about how we are doing on our Christmas shopping list. It’s about whether we are ready to be at home with God.  Is there space in our hearts and minds for God’s presence?  If you are feeling frantic (as I am) about being ready, I want to encourage you to take some time to consider how holiness is fitting into your life.  Where is the space for God in your soul? 

If you think you can’t be holy, that you have too much sin, too much baggage…then embrace the confession and the absolution we offer at the beginning of every Advent service.  Read it every day.  Remind yourself that you are holy.  You are a temple and a sacred place.  But it is up to you to embrace the holiness and allow others to witness that holiness in your.  It’s ok to feel panic and stress, but don’t think you can only enjoy this season and time if everything is ready and perfect.   It never will be.  That’s the things about holiness.  It doesn’t depend on our own perfection, it depends on the space we create for God’s holiness (which means we have to let go of our own need for perfection). We were each created to be holy, to be a home for the divine.  I truly believe that if we can embrace ourselves as holy beings, then we will always be ready for the holy one.