Christmas Still Happens: A Sermon for Christmas Eve 2023

 This has been a really rough year for so many in my congregation. Hurricane Idalia is still messing with people's lives as they fight with their insurance companies over damages. Others have had difficult health events. And then there is the reality of war happening around the world which touches the lives of those connected to the air force base. 

I keep hearing people saying that "Christmas is canceled" particularly in the Holy Land due to the terrorism and war that has been gripping the region for the past two and half months. If ever there was a time for us to call upon Jesus to be made manifest, now seems the time!

I realize that most preachers in the United States will steer clear of the hardships that surround us as they preach their Christmas Eve sermons. We want everyone to be happy and joyous, after all. But I'm just too much of a journalist, too much of a person who sees the things happening in the world and knowing that those are the things my people are hearing and experiencing, too. So I don't want to ignore the realities happening around us. But I want to also remind us that those realities are met on Christmas by a new thing, a new reality that has come to redirect our attention back to Love. 

And so here it goes. See what you think.

Text: Luke 2: 1-20

+++

Prayer:  The Word was made flesh and dwells among us. May it be the Word we hear…read…mark…learn and inwardly digest as the guiding light of our hearts. Amen.

 

I was casually scrolling through my social media…Facebook and various news sites…when I came across a story about the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bethlehem….and their nativity scene.

Interested…I clicked on the headline…which said there was something “controversial” about their display.

Having in my previous career reported and witnessed no end of controversies about nativity scenes and menorahs and all kinds of religious symbols on display in government buildings…I had to wonder what could be so controversial about a church putting up a nativity scene in the Holy Land?

The story popped up on my screen…and the image was arresting.

Instead of a manger with Mary and Joseph looking on in awe and wonder on the Christ child….the church had assembled broken rocks and concrete.

And there…in the middle of the rubble…was Baby Jesus.

Instead of swaddling clothes…he was wrapped in the Palestinian kufiyah…their traditional black and white scarf.

There were a few sheep scattered in the ruins.

Off in the distance…one could make out a shepherd here or there.

Even in this scene…the heavenly chorus is able to reach the lowly shepherds with good news.

It looked like so many of the images we’ve been seeing emerge from the Holy Land as the war in Gaza rages on.

The church’s display captured the reality on the ground and the feelings in the air.

It was certainly a provocative move.

What many Americans probably don’t realize is that Bethlehem…the city which we commemorate as the birthplace of Jesus…lies inside the Israeli-occupied West Bank…a little more than six miles south of Jerusalem.

And while there has been a lot of attention focused on Gaza…there’s been tension and violence in the West Bank for some time as Israel creates more and more settlements in areas with Palestinians.

Since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7^th…relations between Israelis and Palestinians in the West Bank have gotten worse.

There are the extremist Zionist factions which have no problem assaulting Palestinians….taking out their hurt and anger and fear on those who farm olives.

There are those Palestinians who support fighting against Israel who they see as the oppressor and a source of their misery.

For Palestinian Christians…they are embroiled in a nightmare.

The voices of peace on both sides…Jews and Muslims desiring a two-state solution to the constant conflicts in the region… are still out there.

But the noise of war captures much more attention.

Bethlehem…which relies largely on Christian tourism especially at Christmas…is not a safe place to go.

Christian leaders in this little town made the difficult decision to cancel tree-lighting ceremonies. And while there are Christmas Eve services being held…they are not the same as in years past.

The headline writers have told us that “Christmas is canceled” in the Holy Land.

But I would argue quite the opposite.

Because that image of Jesus laying amidst the broken bomb-scarred rocks in a Lutheran Church in Bethlehem is as much a sign of Christmas for us in the 21^st century as what those ragtag shepherds saw when they trekked off to the manger in search of the Messiah…two thousand years ago.

Jesus then…and now…comes to us amidst the chaos and the rubble of real life.

Jesus was born into a world in which his own earthly parents would be forced to flee to Egypt as refugees.

The political landscape of the Roman Empire was fraught with tyranny and bullying of the Jewish population.   

It was a dangerous world.

There were greedy people holding positions of power and privilege.

There were those doing what they could to get by and not cause any trouble.

There were some who had dropped out of society to go live on the outskirts of town with John the Baptizer by the Jordan River.

And there were hundreds of people who felt hopeless to counter what was happening in society….and others who kept looking for ways to end the corrupt systems that held them back.

And there were wars.

All of it sounds a lot like our world today.

So when newspeople want to report that Christmas is canceled…I say, No.

Go find another phrase for your click-bait! (and as a journalist by training…I reserve the right to criticize my colleagues of the Fourth Estate!)

Yes, maybe all the usual activities aren’t happening.

Maybe the manger scene is messier than what we’re used to seeing.

But Christmas is not just about Christmas trees and gift-giving….or the latest pitch for a new Toyota.

Christmas for us is the celebration of God’s in-breaking into the world…the day that Love came down to earth to dwell among us as one of us.

And boy! It is so important and necessary for that Love to come to this world now!

Given all the upheaval in Europe and the Middle East…and our own continued meanness and in-fighting in our national and state politics…with our social safety net in Lowndes County stretched to the breaking point…we sorely need to get back to the Source of Life…and Light.

We need that light to shine boldly and brightly.  

We need it to pierce through the depths of the gloom and darkness that threatens to overshadow all that is good.

Now maybe you’re sitting there thinking, “Great, but where is that light coming from?

When is it going to show up?”

I don’t have an answer for that.

But I can at least get a glimpse of where to look.

We can start by taking in the sight of our Advent wreath.

We can see the flickering lights.

Each candlelight was added one at a time through Advent.

Now…we have this ring of fire around the one central Christ candle.

This gathering of light can serve as an outward and visible sign to us… a beginning for our prayers and meditations.

And again…it’s a symbol. A representation of the light of Christ.

At our baptism…we were handed…or maybe our parents and godparents…received a candle representing the light of Christ.

Besides being a sweet gift…that candle is meant to be the reminder of what is inside all of us.

Each one of us carries with us that light of Christ.

So it is really each one of us who has the potential to do the work that Christ came into the world to do:

to sit and care for those who are brokenhearted,

the oppressed,

the person in need of a friend.

One of the traditions at Christmas Eve is to sing “Silent Night.”

We do this by candlelight.

The usher lowers the overhead lights as we pass the light to each other’s candle.

Tonight…as we do this…think of it as the symbolism of being a light of Christ for your family…your friends…for your neighbors.

A light that you can pass on to someone else.

A light that may need you to cup your hand around at times to keep it going.

Take a moment to look at a room full of candlelight.

Be still and know that the God who is meeting us in this moment is the God who is calling us now to fulfill the dream of God’s peace on earth as it is in heaven.

The world cannot cancel Christmas if we commit to being Christ’s hands and feet…ears and eyes…head and heart.

Time for us to show up and shine on.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Magnificat: A Song of Strength for These Times

 

There is something seriously unfair about having Advent 4 and Christmas Eve on the same day. Beginning with the crunch it places on those of us preaching and leading services, not to mention the laity who help us to create a worshipful  and prayerful atmosphere. And, again, I spent this week dealing with a head cold. The only upside of it is that I didn't drive to Valdosta on Wednesday, but instead stayed home and locked myself in our home office for two days to get my sermons finished for Sunday. Hallelujah! 

Hopefully, these words reflecting on Mary's Song the Magnificat will linger in people's heads for the few hours before we celebrate Christmas Eve. Of course, they can always come here to read them if they need a refresher. :-)

See what you think.

Text: Canticle 15 in the Book of Common Prayer

+++

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

It was March 1965.

The campus of Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Massachusetts, was gathered for their Evening Prayer service.

There was a young man at the service…one of the second-year students…singing these words that we know as the Magnificat.

He was getting swept up in their meaning.

“He has shown the strength of his arm. He has scattered the proud in their conceit.”

As those words and the music of Mary’s song filled his head and his heart…this young man’s thoughts turned to the announcement he had heard on campus that week.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would be leading a march in Selma, Alabama, and would appreciate having seminarians join with him in standing up for the black population.

As this young man sang words about “lifting up the lowly” he knew what was happening:

God was speaking to him….through Mary’s song…and was calling him to respond to Dr. King’s request to go to Alabama.

That young man’s name was Jonathan Myrick Daniels.

Not only did Jon Daniels go to participate in the March; he stayed in Alabama to help with voter registration, tutoring black children, and challenging the segregation of Alabama’s Episcopal Churches.

The march across the Edmund Pettis Bridge challenged him to think about his privilege.

It would have been so easy for him to go to Alabama…take part in the action…and then retreat back a comfortable distance to Massachusetts.

But Daniels felt he needed to stay.

This ended up being a fatal decision.

Later that year…he was shot to death in Hayneville, Alabama, while protecting a black teenage girl from a white man at a package store.

Daniels is one of the many remembered as a martyr of the civil rights movement in Alabama.

Jonathan Daniels is one of my personal Episcopal heroes.

I love him both as a fellow native of New Hampshire… and even more so for how he lived out his faith…even when it cost him his life.

It's not surprising to me that the words of Mary’s song moved him so deeply.

It is a stirring poetic tribute to the power of God and the way God empowers us to accomplish things beyond our imagination.  

The Magnificat is a remix of another power packed song of praise…one which young Mary no doubt knew from her Jewish ancestry.

If we remember our Old Testament stories… Hannah sang God’s praises when she birthed her son Samuel…the last of Israel’s judges.

Hannah also sang of a God who “raises up the poor from the dust….to make them sit with princes.”  

This song is one for any of us who have felt ourselves looked upon with the harshness of judgment…or have felt our knees knocking as we stand before those with more power.

It’s a song to have in our hearts whenever we face any kind of struggle or potentially difficult situation.

Think about Mary’s situation.

A young… teenager…betrothed to a carpenter named Joseph… has just been told that she’s going to become pregnant…and her child will be holy and called ‘Son of God.’

Luke tells us that she was “much perplexed” by this angel and his message.

(Gee: I can’t imagine why?)

I think perplexed might be a bit of an understatement given the circumstances.  

Amazingly…she doesn’t tell Gabriel to get outta dodge with this crazy idea.

Instead…after hearing him out…Mary steps up. She accepts this role.

And then she immediately heads off to see her cousin Elizabeth…maybe to seek the wisdom and comfort of a much older woman.

Perhaps she wanted to find a person who might hear this story and give her some kind of rational explanation for what was happening.

And why wouldn’t a young woman seek the counsel of an older woman?

When Elizabeth sees her…not only does she get excited but her own child in her womb…that rascally John the Baptizer…starts leaping for joy.

Before Mary can even say anything…Elizabeth is like…” Woot! Here comes the mother about to bear the brother to deliver the light of love that comes from above! Woot!”  

It’s this affirmation…this praise and recognition from a trusted member of the older generation that launches Mary into her song.

“My soul magnifies the Lord”

Her soul…her innermost being…is expanding with this hope…this peace…this joy…this love!

This task…becoming the God-bearer…is no small work.

She’s accepted a role of helping to birth a new future for her people.

Her act will help to lead them out of from the tyranny of despair.

She has a purpose…and is praising God for choosing her to rise to this occasion.

Love is on the move…and she is a key part of the movement.

And by the way… so are we!

While we may not be God-bearers in the same way that Mary was…we are still the ones today who bring forth that life…that light… that love of Christ into every place we go and interact with others.

How well we listen to others…and how we respond….makes all the difference in how a person who doesn’t know Christ discovers the God they might’ve heard about but have never experienced.

They might find in us the spirit of Christ meeting them without prejudice or malice or indifference…but instead seeing them as a fellow traveler…seeking a connection to something that gives them a sense of purpose and meaning.

Through us…they might see a soul that is magnifying the light of Love represented in that last candle on the Advent wreath. The candle of Love.

May each of us shine so brightly as we enter into this Christmas season that those whom we meet will feel that presence of God’s love for them…and be glad in it.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

 

Rejoice Always...Even When It's Hard

 

Self-revelation: I am under the weather with a really nasty head cold. When I tried to read this sermon to my wife, I had to stop repeatedly because I was coughing so much. So already, with my sinuses throbbing, the thought of "joy" wasn't a really exciting topic for me to think about.

Add to that that I pressed on through my yuckiness to go to Valdosta on Wednesday because I had at least three meetings scheduled, one of them being the Finance Committee which had to meet so there would be a proposed 2024 budget ready for the vestry meeting on Sunday. In the course of my various meetings, I heard a lot of pain, a lot of fear, a lot of uncertainty. I did not hear a lot of joy.

So Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians seemed the most relevant scripture to work with for this sermon. Granted, the pericope set aside for the Sunday lectionary was just some of his exhortation at the end of the letter. But still, knowing some of the "behind the scenes" about that particular letter made it a relevant scripture from which to preach to a congregation of people who aren't all feeling holly jolly right now.

See what you think.

Scripture texts for 3B Advent: Isaiah 61: 1-4, 8-11, Ps.126, 1 Thess. 5:16-24, and John 1:6-8, 19-28

+++

Today we have lit a candle for “Joy.”

It’s the pink candle on our Advent wreath, and it’s that reminder that we are waiting with joyful expectation for the birth of Jesus on Christmas Day.

The prophet Isaiah is once more declaring the joy and exultation felt from having “the Spirit of the Lord upon him to bring good news to the oppressed and bind up the brokenhearted.”

The people of Israel are coming out of exile and can celebrate their freedom from captivity.

Our psalmist keeps up the theme.

The people are laughing.

They are rejoicing that God has answered their cries of anguish.

We hear in the Gospel lesson again that John the Baptizer knows that he is just a herald of someone bigger, brighter, and more powerful than he. While John doesn’t use the word “joy” or “rejoice” …. but we all know he can’t wait for the Messiah to show up to clean up what John sees as the excesses of the religious authorities and the persecution they’ve been suffering living in the Roman Empire.

And then there’s Paul…writing to this very young church in Thessalonica to “Rejoice always.”

All these happy…joy-filled readings.

But what if that’s not where we are?

What if we aren’t feeling joyful?

What if we’re the oppressed and the brokenhearted waiting to hear that good news?

Truthfully, that’s exactly who Paul was writing to when he put pen to papyrus in writing this first letter to the Thessalonians.

They were a people who converted from paganism in the joyous exuberance of all converts to a new faith.

They had heard Paul’s preaching and teaching…long before any of the Evangelists had started spreading the Gospels.

In fact, this is the earliest of Paul’s letters written sometime around 51 CE.

They believed in Jesus Christ…believed that he had died and that God raised him from the dead. They…like some of the communities of our Evangelists…also believed that Jesus was returning at any minute and the kingdom of God would be fulfilled.

And so a few weeks went by.

Then it became months.

People started to die.

The pressures from the surrounding Greek culture which rejected them for accepting Jesus began to wear them down.

Paul had…in his very Paul way…successfully made himself unwelcomed by preaching about Jesus to the local Jewish community in their synagogue which had caused a whole heap of trouble for some of the believers (Acts 17:1-10).

So Paul and his companions had to make a hasty retreat out of town.

The Thessalonians were starting to struggle with maintaining hope and faith in a society that told them they were fools.

Despite the promise that the light would overcome the darkness…their world was looking pretty darn dark.

There was no joy in this tiny community.

And so Paul…hearing about what was happening to the Thessalonians after sending his compatriot Timothy to check in on them… writes this letter to the church.

I’m kind of sorry that we only hear this very last portion of his letter.

This is one where Paul is at his most pastoral.

He’s gentle in his tone.

He implores the Thessalonians to do the same…be kind to one another…respect and support each other and greet one another “with a holy kiss” (5:26).

He gets it.

He knows they’re having a hard time, and they are feeling lost and alone.

He regrets that had to leave them in such a rush.

And he reminds them that all of what they are experiencing is part of the growing pains of being this new fledgling group wanting to follow Christ.

It’s not easy.

Not everybody’s gonna like you or want to hear about Jesus.

There will be rejection and hardship.

And actually practicing Christian principles doesn’t win someone a whole lot of brownie points when confronting the powerful.

But that’s not the whole story.

There is also hope…peace…and yes: even joy.

Because being a follower of Christ means remembering what happened at the cross.

 Just when the followers of Jesus thought all was lost…and that the Roman authorities had won by killing all that was good…the believers were met with a resurrected joy.

They saw that Love…that’s “Love” with a Capital L “Love”…did win.

Life overcame death.

God had declared victory.

This is the hope that all Christians turn to…that we have been promised that death, destruction, bullies, and tyrants do not get the last word.

We may not see the fruits of that faith in God right away.

We might have to shed some tears…and experience grief…and find ourselves at times in what John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul.”

But the promise remains that “joy will come in the morning.” (Ps.30:5)

That is our truth and the reality we are invited to embrace.

When we believe and trust that God doesn’t abandon us when we’re down and out…our outlook shifts.

We can re-center ourselves.

We can slow down…breathe easier…and not only be a light to someone else…we can more easily receive that light from someone else.

We’re preparing now for the birth of the one we call “Messiah.”

Not only has God not left us.

God is coming to meet us….in whatever state of mind…emotions…physical or mental health that we’re in at the moment.

No matter what else is happening to us….or in this crazy world around us that wants to distract us and drag us down…we can take in the lights of hope, peace and joy as a way to remember that God is with us…now and always.

That is a reason for us to rejoice!

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

 

Peace, please

 

 

One of the things I am aware of serving at St. Barnabas is that we are the closest Episcopal Church to Moody Air Force Base; hence, when members of the Air Force look for an Episcopal Church, we're the ones they're most likely to find first.

With the war ragining in Gaza, one of our members was deployed in late October for an undetermined amount of time. The deployment left all of us a little nervous. And we were especially concerned for the kids. 

Thankfully...he made it back...and just in time to help us light the candle for Peace on the Advent Wreath. 

Texts: Is. 40:1-11; Mark 1:1-8

+++

Abandonment has got to be one of the loneliest and most fear-filled feelings in the world.

The ache of wondering if you’ve been forgotten…or worse…intentionally left behind to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar place.

Maybe some of us remember a time when we were little kids and we’d have gone shopping with mom.

Mom was on a mission to get what she needs.

But we’d become enthralled with the toys strategically placed at kid eye-level.

Mom…focused and intent on getting in and out of the store…would go about her business.

She needs to get these items.

She’s not there for trinkets and plastic and sparkly things.

So she moves on with finding the essentials….while we’d still be fixated on the bright shiny object.

Mom…her shopping…was of little interest or consequence.

Until we became aware that mom was no longer with us.  

Separated…and mom nowhere sight…we’d start to panic.

We’d look down this aisle…over here and over there. Nothing. Our brains would start to pester us with questions:

Where did she go? Why did she leave me? Where am I?

And then we’d hear a voice calling out our name.

The store manager on the loudspeaker would be summoning us to the front of the store to be reunited with mom…who…by the way…was just as panicked and probably fearing the worst circumstances…realizing she’d lost her focus on us.

That’s the sort of feeling of “abandonment” I’m talking about and on a small scale…caused by a momentary lapse in attention.

But imagine that same sense of abandonment on a bigger scale.

The despair that arises when we’re forced into a situation we’re in some place foreign…with no idea when or if we’ll ever get home.

That’s the wilderness…and it can feel a little like abandonment.

We have no sense of up or down…left or right.

There’s no compass to help guide our feet in the direction of the town.

It’s unknown territory.

That’s the situation of the people Isaiah is speaking to in our first reading.

The Israelites had be invaded by the Babylonian Empire. Their best minds and tradespeople had been captured and taken away to a foreign land.

Those left behind in the ruins were like a rudderless ship.

This was the wilderness…another time when the people of Israel mourned for losses…and the exiles wondered if they’d ever see their native land again.

Now… the prophet is announcing the good news that those who had been scattered can return home.

Persia and King Cyrus had defeated the Babylonians.

The Israelites who had been exiled can return!

All is well now…

” Comfort o comfort my poor beleaguered and suffering people.

You are saved. God is with you!”

We can hear in this passage an exchange of voices…the one announcing to prepare the way! Make a straight path in this wilderness!

There’s dialogue of exuberance:

 “Cry out!” says a voice.

“What should I cry?” asks the prophet.

The cry is to be a proclamation:

humans are mortal…and like flowers and grass they fade away…but God endures forever.

We can get a sense of this as a moment of such joyousness.

It’s like listening to the end of Martin Luther King’s ‘I Have a Dream’ speech, where he thundered out “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty we’re free at last!”

This is the same declaration we’re hearing in the Gospel from that wild and hotheaded character John the Baptizer.

Like the prophet Isaiah…John knows that he is not the almighty.

His baptism is not like the one that is coming to the people.

He knows that the people are about to receive a baptism that will set them free once and for all.

Wait and see!

“You who are feeling hopeless...lost…abandoned…get ready! Freedom is coming!”

These messages of freedom…of merciful release…of return from that place of feeling lost and abandoned carry a particularly urgent tone in our world today.

During that brief period of the ceasefire in the Middle East…the world could sigh with some relief as groups of hostages…particularly young children…were freed from underground tunnels in Gaza.

At the same time…Israel freed several Palestinians…a number of them teenagers…who they had detained for minor and sometimes no offenses.

There were signs of celebration as families were reunited.

But sadly…the war rages on.

The fate of the remaining hostages is unknown.

Families of those who have been released…both those being held hostage by Hamas and some of the Palestinian prisoners…are revealing stories of mistreatment and abuse since this conflict began on October 7th.

All of this has spilled over into hostilities in this country.

Arab and Palestinian Americans as well as Jewish citizens are reporting an increase in harassment and abuse.

We’ve heard reports of people getting shot, some have been stabbed and beaten all because they wore the Palestinian scarf…the black and white checkered kufiyah…or the Jewish head covering…the kippah.

Thursday night was the beginning of Hanukkah…an eight-day celebration in which Jews remember another time when they were attacked and overcame adversity…even having enough oil to keep their candles lit.

Sadly…some have felt they can’t safely engage in this candle lighting practice because of the anger and backlash for the war in Gaza.

In fact…my state representative sent out a plea to non-Jews in her district to light a menorah as a way of showing solidarity with their neighbors and allow them to mark their holiday tradition without fear.

(Not a problem in my household since we are an interfaith couple).

It makes sense then that on this second Sunday of Advent…we’ve lit a candle for peace.

Because we could stand to have more peace… less war… less violence… occupying our every day lives in this world.

None of us here may be able to stop to the geopolitical conflicts of the world…in the Middle East…Europe or Africa.

The one thing we CAN do is to commit to asking for God’s guidance to lead us to be peace makers in our families and our communities.

We can take this time of Advent to consider the ways we engage with those around us that might influence others toward a more peaceful coexistence.

Like the ripples on water when you drop a stone into the middle of a pond…our actions and behaviors can affect others to model and change their behavior.

 The words we choose when we’re in conflict with someone can make a difference in resolving a dispute.

Taking a breath before responding in anger or frustration with our colleagues and loved ones…may save a relationship.

Such actions may seem small…but they do add up.

And in this time when people seem to feel free to say the most hateful things online…and in person…to one another…we have an opportunity and a covenant to keep building people up and not tearing them to shreds.

Isaiah was proclaiming a time of God’s salvation coming to a hurting and scattered people.

John was declaring God’s presence was not far from a disillusioned and depressed people.

Now it’s our turn to speak words of comfort to our friends and neighbors as we pray…

“Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.”

In the name of God…F/S/HS.