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.

Homeward Bound: May 14, 2017

Year A, Easter 5                                                  
John 14:1-14                                                              

            As some of you know, my parents moved here just last week.  It is wonderful to have them here.  I could not be happier for so many reasons.   Therefore it surprised me at how hard it was for me to say goodbye to their house.  My dad was in the Navy for almost all of my youth.  I was a late addition to the family and did not move around nearly as much as my brothers, but I never had a house or a place I was really attached to.  When we moved to a tiny town in upstate New York when I was 16, I was kind of miserable.  Yet I made amazing friends there and became very attached to the life my parents created. I loved that house. Even as a priest, my husband and I returned every year a few days after Christmas.  Driving up the road, I would see the Christmas lights hanging from the balcony of the deck and every light lit. The house sat on a hill and from the road it seemed like a tree house. 


Painting of the house at Christmas by my brother, Bill Vincent

          As soon as I walked in, I felt safe. I felt like I was home even though I had spent so little time there. This Christmas, as I packed up my old photo albums and yearbooks I could not stop crying.  I kept thinking, what is wrong with me??? They are coming to live near me! This is just a house. Besides, you know what they say, home is where the heart is.  That means a home can move. Yet even knowing that, it was still heart wrenching driving away for the last time.

            The words of John 14 are familiar to me and probably familiar to many people.  Those first 6 verses are the most common verses you will hear at any funeral…perhaps second only to Psalm 23, which we heard last week.   While I have never asked anyone why they chose those verses, I assume it has a lot to do with the first line, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  It’s something that we all need to hear when we are grieving.  It’s not saying, “Don’t be sad.”  It’s saying, “Don’t let your heart be troubled.”  To be troubled is a more permanent condition.  It’s the kind of sadness that has no hope. Jesus is saying, if you believe in me, there is always hope, even in grief. 

However, the part that sees to really resonate with people is, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”  Jesus then goes on to tell his disciples who are gathered around him, desperate for words of comfort and hope-- that he is going to prepare a place for them so that “there you may be also.”  Many of us hear this and envision Jesus up in heaven in a magnificent mansion fluffing the pillows and opening the shades to let the bright effervescent light of the sun in.  What could be more comforting than knowing that when this life is over, there will be a place for us that Jesus has prepared, a place where Jesus waits to greet us?  It is an incredibly comforting image and one that I have preached at many funerals. 

            I suppose that the only thing that could be more comforting than knowing that there would be a place for us after death, would be knowing that  there is a place for us while we are alive as well.  Another way to read this text is: “In my father’s house there are many abiding places.”  If you look through many of the readings for this Sunday, you will find this theme of abiding, or living with the Lord. It would seem that Jesus was not just referring to our final home, but the place where we can abide here, in this life. Jesus was telling his disciples (and that includes us) that there is a place here on earth where we can feel the presence of God, feel as though we are safe, at home. 

            When I was at college, there was one place where I always felt safe. It will be no shock to you to know that it was the college chapel.  Yet it was surprising to me at the time.  You see, before college, I had never felt at home in a church. Church was a nice place to go.  I liked the music.  I liked the essence of church.  But it never felt like home.  It was never a place I sought.  Yet in college, the chapel was always open.  There were rooms in the basement where we could study.  One fridge was always stocked with Diet Dr. Pepper.  And no matter what time you came (whether it was 10am or 1am) someone was almost always there.  I studied there. I made friends there.  I worshipped there.  It was a safe place.  It was a place where I felt that I belonged.  The reason I felt like I belonged there was not just that there were people I knew and comfy chairs, but I felt close to God.  It was like God was right there and I could pop in anytime.

            When Jesus told the disciples about a dwelling place that was prepared for them, he wasn’t just talking about a future place where we all congregate after death. He was talking about the place where God abides.  God isn’t just waiting for us in this mysterious place called, “life after death.” God is here with us now. This was important for the disciples to know because Jesus wanted them to understand that even after he died, was resurrected and ascended into heaven, he was still there with them. There was still a place for them, on earth, a safe place where God dwelled with them.  They did not quite understand it at the time.  It was only after Jesus spent time with them after his resurrection when they were able to fully comprehend what it was to abide with God, even though Jesus was not present in bodily form.  Once they started to understand that, they were able to help other people have a sense of that abiding presence of God here on earth.

            My parents moved last week.  I helped them a little bit on their move.  Even when their stuff was still in boxes….even though it was only the 2^nd or 3^rd time I had been there…I had this overwhelming feeling that I was coming home.  It is nothing like where they used to live.  It has none of the familiar smells, sounds, or views. But they are there. That is their dwelling place, which means it is a safe place for me.  I feel the same way about St. John’s.  When I walk into the sanctuary….it does not matter what day it is.  It does not matter whether it is full, empty or mostly empty…it feels like home.  It feels like the place that I belong, not because I am the rector here, not because I know the people here, but because this is a place where I can feel God.  That is my prayer for all of you; that you can find God in this place, that this can be a home for you in your joy, in your grief, and in your doubt.  There is always a place for you here.  But more importantly, there is a place for you anywhere you go.    When you experience the love of God, you are home.  Welcome home.