Category: Sermons - Page 4 - We Get There By Walking

What Would You Like Me To Do For You?

I remember the first time this story from Mark’s Gospel became more than just another story in the Bible for me. I had been on a Midnight Run on a Friday night. Handing out clothes and coffee and soup to groups of men and women at various locations in midtown Manhattan. Everyone was huddled and bundled against the cold. A faceless, nameless group anxious to get clean clothes and dry socks and something warm to eat and drink and then return to their cardboard box or their corner out of the wind. And we were anxious to get back in our vans. The next morning, still a bit tired from being out late on Friday night, I walked into my office to read through the scripture reading for Sunday and to make sure I was ready for worship. The scripture for that Sunday was the same as the scripture reading for this morning. Mark 10. Blind Bartimaeus. Son of Timaeus. Beggar who spent his days sitting in the dust on the side of the road just outside Jericho. That Saturday morning was the only time I remember ripping up what I had written earlier in the week to write something entirely different for the sermon for the next day.

My guess is you know enough Hebrew to catch the irony in the passage. Bartimaeus. Son of Timaeus. Bar. Meaning son of. As in Bar Mitzvah. Even though he had lived in that town his entire life, nobody knew his name. Only that he was Timaeus’ son. Bar Timaeus. This scripture and that insight changed the way I interacted with others especially those who were and are invisible to me most of the time. Those with whom I had interacted on that Midnight Run the night before. Those families and neighbors who I get to know on work trips to Appalachia or Nicaragua. Those whom I welcome when we host the Emergency Shelter Partnership. The check out person at the grocery store.
Now, I do my best to make sure I introduce myself.
And, do my best to notice or to ask them and then call them by name.
They deserve, at least, that much.

Something similar happened when I read through this passage again this past week and thought about and planned for this morning. Instead of the name, what caught my attention this time is the question Jesus asked. Reading through this story, the way I heard Jesus ask the question was not out of a sense of exasperation like you and I might sometimes do when being interrupted or being asked to do one more thing. Throwing up our hands and saying, “What do you want me to do for you?” But, as I read the story, I heard Jesus asking the question with a sense of openness and honesty and genuine concern for the person who now stood in front of him. Beggar’s cloak discard, Jesus could now look him in the eyes. “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus said. “How can I help?”

I think one of the reasons this question jumped out at me, is that I had recently stumbled across and have been thinking about this reflection by the Rev. Gene Robinson, retired Bishop in the Episcopal Church. Bishop Robinson wrote: I think people often come to the synagogue, mosque or church looking for God and what we give them is religion.

They come looking for God and we give them….
What to believe.
How to believe.
What to do.
How to act.
We use our churchy words and say our churchy prayers and sing our churchy hymns. We stand up and sit down on cue. Please understand. I am not criticizing. All these things mean something to many, if not most, of you. They mean something to me. But, in light of the Gospel and Bishop Robinson’s reflection, I find myself asking the question.
Are there those who wait alongside the road?
Overlooked?
Invisible to most of us?
Waiting.
Looking.
Maybe even hoping for something.
Maybe not even aware that they are waiting or looking or hoping, but there. All around us.

Who are all those others who are NOT here.
Our children and our grandchildren.
Our neighbors down the street.
Our neighbors who look like us and those who don’t.
Do we see them for who they are?
Do we recognize them?
Do we care enough about them not just to see them, but to ask what they are looking for?
To ask what we can do for them?
Or, who we can be for them?
Is it true that all we have offered them is religion?
When what they are looking for…longing for… is…
Hope.
Forgiveness.
Awe.
Wonder.
Gratitude.
Welcome.

Here is what I know.
Or, at least think I know.
Two things:

I think Bishop Robinson is right.
I think we are more accustomed and comfortable in offering people religion rather than an experience of God. Or a window onto the Holy.
An indicator of this is that much of what we do and how we do it, while meaningful to us, is not connecting with others. All the demographics tell us that and trend in that direction.

Maybe that is because religion is easier and safer.
Because that experience of the Holy…
Our experience of God…
Is so personal and fluid we find it hard to put words around it.
How do you talk about that moment when you were saved?
Or describe that moment when awe buckled your knees?
Or, when you experienced a forgiveness which broke open your life?
Or, when that Something More filled your being to overflowing and changed who you are and how you live?

I don’t have any great wisdom here.
Let alone answers.
Just my intuition that Bishop Robinson is right and that the question Jesus asks Bartimaeus somehow connects with and has something to do with all of this. And, the belief that the more we ask and and the more we talk about this and the more we do our best to live out the question the more we create space for both us and others to turn towards that Something More which even today…even now…waits to turn our lives right side up.

If You See Something Say Something

When we meet on Sunday afternoon with the young adults who participate in our Confirmation program, one of the challenges Kathy DiBiasi and I face as we talk with them about God and Jesus and the difference between faith and religion, is how to read and understand the Bible. They are so used to reading textbooks – history books and science books or current event articles – and learning or memorizing what they read so they can play it back on quizzes or tests that they try to do the same thing with the Bible. We try to encourage them to read the Bible for meaning and not like a science book or the newspaper.

One of the ways we do this is we will give them Robert Frost’s poem The Road Less Traveled. You probably know it. It begins like this.
Two road diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
And it ends with these two lines.
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

We give them the poem, ask them to read it and then ask them to share with us what it means. There is usually an awkward pause of some sort as they try figure out what the poem has to do with God or Jesus or church or faith, because that is usually the default/go to answer for questions like this which are asked by the Pastor or the Director of Educational Ministries. But they finally get around to telling us the poem is about what choice you will make and what path you will follow. Then, having gotten them that far, we give them a Bible and ask them to turn to Genesis 1. The very first words in the Bible.
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep. Then God said, Let there be light,” and there was light. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
Once they have found their way to that page in the Bible, we ask them to read through the entire chapter and then to tell us what it means. We give them this hint. It is not about creation.

Trusting you can do at least two things at the same time, if you want to read through Genesis 1 yourself to while I continue feel free to do so. Just remember. It is not about creation.

Here is some background which is important as you read through or think about these verses and as you seek to understand the Bible.

The Bible was not written front to back. The authors didn’t sit down and start with page one and work their way forward. The Bible was, in fact, written backwards. Authors looking back from transformative moments – the Exodus in Hebrew Scripture or the resurrection in Christian scripture – and creating a narrative to give meaning to what they had experienced.
Genesis 1 was written sometime around the middle of the 5th century BCE at the time the Babylonian exile which was an existential crisis point in Jewish history. All the touchstones they turned to and relied on to identify themselves as God’s Chosen People – land, King, Temple, Torah – had been lost or destroyed. Life and faith and identity were in chaos. In the midst of all that uncertainty, the authors and compilers of the Hebrew Bible wrote these opening verses.
If I were in charge of putting the Bible together. I would call these opening verses a Prologue and not Chapter 1 because these words, at least for me, inform the whole rest of the narrative.

So, where is all this going? To get there, back to the question Kathy and I ask the Ninth Graders in Confirmation.
What do these verses mean?
For me they read as a Statement of Faith.
The world is chaotic and broken.
Formless. A void. Dark.
And, in that darkness and brokenness and void God creates bringing order to the chaos. And, not just creates, declares what is made good.
Light. Dark. Day. Night. Sea monsters. Creeping things.
All good.
Then, humankind created in God’s own image.
Male and female created in God’s own image.
And God saw what God had made and behold it was not just good, but very good.

I don’t know about you, but the world does not feel very good or very orderly to me right now. Beyond the relentless day in/day out swirl of craziness two headlines particularly gave me pause this week. The first is that there were 11 school shootings in the first 23 days of January. One every other day. The second was an article wondering if we even care about such events anymore.
We are drowning…
I am drowning…
In bad news and brokenness and heartache and heartbreak.
So here is what I did.
I went on Facebook and asked for people to tell me where they had seen or experienced kindness this week. Or, seen people treating others decently. And, people responded. Here is what they said.

I like this question… it makes me consider again the woman who smiled at me and made a nice comment as I waited for her to get out of her car so I could get in mine. And the woman who said hello to all the staff of the coffee shop when she walked in. And to appreciate even more all the people who took the time to wish me well after surgery. Small acts, but taken together they help to make each interaction more human, and make each day more connected.

In Katonah when I want to grab a quick bite I either go to Goldberg’s Deli or the Pizza Station. The majority of staff in those two places are all Latino (mostly Guatemalan) and I am consistently welcomed and engaged in conversation that feels like something more than small talk. Being comforted by the opportunity to speak Spanish in those situations reminds me of the hospitality and community that seems to emanate from Latino culture and families. And the grace they display all the while facing unjust immigration reform. It makes me stop and think. If only solving the problem were as easy as interacting at the deli.

Grocery store; smiles & friendly comments to a mom with loud kids. Post Office; a man held the door for me & others.

Cars who slow down when going by my puppy and I on the road. Trying not to scare her.

I am so grateful that I see it (almost) every day at work. And I love every reminder for random acts of kindness, so thank you for that, and the thoughtful question!

A man on my walk to work yesterday gave me the brightest and warmest of smiles as we passed each other on the street. Instead of avoiding eye contact, we both briefly exchanged a sense of our shared humanity.

In the chaos of a NYC store, my daughter lost her purse. The young man who found it, texted her and It was returned to her within a couple of hours.

My 5 year old daughter giving friends, teachers and us hugs.

I saw an older woman who walks with a cane kneel down to hold a toddler at bay so that his mother could focus on getting her bike off the train.

At the Atlanta airport the folks were super kind when my wife lost her boarding pass. Also the orphans in Mexico were incredibly kind and patient with us Americans who don’t know their language.

So here is what feels like truth to me.
There are huge issues out there.
Just as there have always been.
Some seem to be getting better, but others are getting worse.
Racism. Poverty. Misuse and abuse of power whether in governments or in the workplace. Opioids. Hunger. Whatever was above the fold on the front page of whatever newspaper you glanced at this morning. We ignore those issues at our own peril.

But there is also this.
The older woman with the cane who kneels down to hold the hand of a toddler.
The stranger who smiles when you pass on the street.
The little girl who wants to give you a hug.
Those everyday kindnesses which grace your life.

Maybe all this is my own Statement of Faith.
I believe there is more goodness in the world than evil.
And, while not the solution to everything between us and God’s Kingdom come, certainly a place we can begin is with those everyday kindnesses and goodness, and those moments of decency and respect which punctuate the lives of most of us each day.

So, don’t turn away from the hard work which is ours to do. But, also, know and name and embody the goodness which the Bible claims is built into your very DNA. And, share that goodness with others awakening theirs in them. And, when you see something, say something. Notice the hug of a child and the couple walking down the street holding hands. Pay attention the kindness of a stranger and the door held for another. And, say something. At least to yourself so you stop long enough to see clearly those life giving moments which grace your day that you might remember how and who you were created to be.

Then turn and be that for another.

In the Name and In the Spirit of Jesus

In the push and pull of the world as it is, we sometimes forget. So to help us remember, this reminder from the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Christian community in Galatia. Words and a witness meant also for today.
As many of you as were baptized into Christ
have clothed yourself with Christ.
(Which means you have put on Jesus.)
[Therefore] there is no longer Jew or Greek.
There is no longer slave or free.
There is no longer male or female.
For you are all one in Christ Jesus.

And, given the reality of the world in which we live we are called to pull that witness into these times and this moment which means…
There is also no longer Africans or Americans.
There is no longer Houstonians or Haitians.
There is no longer New Yorkers or Salvadorans.
There is no longer gay or straight.
There is no longer red states or blue states.
But, of course there are.
All those divisions.
Sharply separating us from them. You from me. The deserving from the undeserving. We know it. We feel it. We are told each day it is the way life is. The way the world is. But, the lines which we are told divide us are no less stark or deep or divisive than theirs were. So, in the midst of that divisiveness and dismissiveness and hatred the Apostle speaks again and dares to tell us…
Dares to tell you…
As many of you who were baptized into Christ
have clothed yourself with Christ.
For you are all one in Christ Jesus.
Remember your baptism.

So, as we remember who we are and who we are called to be both in our own unique being, but also collectively as God’s presence and people and witness in the world as it is, in these two readings listen for God’s word that it might be heard in our midst again this day. First, from the witness of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I was reminded of these words last Sunday morning as Shodie and I, along with her Dad, worshiped at the Shepherdstown Presbyterian Church. Dr. King writes:
This hour in history needs a dedicated circle of transformed nonconformists. Our planet teeters on the brink of atomic annihilation; dangerous passions of pride, hatred and selfishness are enthroned in our lives; truth lies prostrate on the rugged hills of nameless calvaries; and men [and women] do reverence before false gods of nationalism and materialism. The saving of our world from pending doom will come, not through the complacent adjustment of the conforming majority, but through the creative maladjustment of a nonconforming minority… I confess that I never intend to become adjusted to the evils of segregation and the crippling effects of discrimination, to the moral degeneracy of religious bigotry and the corroding effects of narrow sectarianism, to economic conditions that deprive men [and women] of work and food and to the insanities of militarism and the self defeating effects of physical violence. Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted.

Like I do, do you swallow hard when you hear those words?
I have spent a lifetime learning to fit in and to not make waves and to keep the peace.
But, here I am told what the world needs…
What the Gospel calls us to…
Is to be non-conformist and creatively maladjusted not buying into the notion of that is just the way it is, but standing up and stepping towards something more. Something different. Something closer to what God intends.

And these words from Mark’s Gospel.
Continue to listen for God’s word that it might be present and heard in our midst again today.
As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea – for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him. (Mark 1: 16-20)

Follow me. Jesus said.
Then he walked out the doors of the synagogue, away from the lake and into the world as it was. And, with all do respect to my more conservative sisters and brothers, the witness of the gospel is not about personal salvation. Not about me and Jesus. Not about avoiding hell and getting into heaven. It is not just nodding our heads in tacit agreement. It is not about feeling good in church. It is about changing the world and transforming people’s lives.

After walking out the doors of the synagogue, Jesus touched and healed those broken in body and spirit. He overturned the piety and the tables of the properly religious both as he sat and taught and in the courtyard of the Temple. He welcomed into the circle around him women and children, the forgotten and the disenfranchised. He gave food to those who were hungry.
Follow me. He says.
Which means more than just tagging along watching or sitting in church on Sunday. Instead, it means figuring out how we are to do in our lives what we see Jesus doing in his.

I know politics and policy is messy and complicated just like the world in which we live. I know the SNAP program is complicated. What is not complicated is our neighbor and her family who are hungry. I know health care and the CHIP program are complicated. What is not complicated is the child who is sick and who needs to see a doctor. I know race and the impact of changing demographics is complicated. What is not complicated is the affirmation we are all made in the image of God and bear the imprint of the Holy. I know immigration policy is complicated. What is not complicated is the father who was brought to this country 30 years ago when he was 10 and who is now a husband and a father with a full time job and who has paid taxes and been a part of his community whose family was torn apart when he was deported this week. Or the DACA students who also were brought to this country as children and who have worked hard and have achieved academic success and who are now in college pursuing a degree and a career. The pressing question is: What does Follow me mean and look like in those situations and circumstances and hundred more just like them?

Jan Edmiston, one of the Co-Moderators of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church wrote this several days ago on her blog.
How do we [as Christians and as the Church] live in a disturbing world? We start in our own homes and neighborhoods. We teach our children to respect all people – even those who seem foreign to us in their behavior or their appearance. We speak up when we hear people disrespect other human beings. We make our children proud by defending the weak. And we reward them with praise when they defend the weak. We honor doing the right thing. We learn from people we do not understand. We talk with each other. We are real with each other.

This is who the Church is called to be in these days. We can no longer be a social club, a service organization, or a sentimental fellowship. We exist to transform the world for good in the name of Jesus. We are called to live in the image of Christ – which is no small thing. It sometimes gets people killed. On most days the best we can do might be to remember that we and those around us – even the cranky ones – have a value that no one can take away.

Listen for God’s word.
The saving of our world from pending doom will come, not through the complacent adjustment of the conforming majority, but through the creative maladjustment of a nonconforming minority.

As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ.
There is no longer Jew or Greek.
There is no longer slave or free.
There is no longer male or female.
For you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Follow me. Jesus said.

Which Star?

We tend to read and to think of the stories describing the birth of Jesus like they are one continuous, unified narrative. Like the authors of Matthew and Luke sat down together and said, “I will tell this part of the story and you tell that part.” But that is not what happened. And even though we read them together on Christmas Eve and push them together in our creches and cards, the narratives around the birth of Jesus are distinctly different and deserve to stand and to be thought about on their own.The account in Luke has one cast of characters. Matthew has another. Luke includes Caesar Augustus, Joseph and Mary, angels and shepherds and Jesus in a manger.
Matthew has none of that.
Instead, Matthew’s Gospel the primary actors are a star.
And, strangers from the East.
And Herod.
Frightened (read scared to death) by the arrival and the question of the magi.
In the part of the story we read as we began our worship,
Joseph is non-existent.
Mary is passive.
Jesus barely mentioned.
There is no arduous journey to Bethlehem while pregnant.
No angels in the sky.
No shepherds in the field.
No Jesus in a manger.

And, while we didn’t read it this morning (and don’t often read it because we want to keep the Christmas narrative wonderful and beautiful and miraculous), for the sake of this morning and what I found myself thinking about as I read and reread this story, I realized we also need to pay attention to what comes next in Matthew’s gospel. When the wisemen don’t return to Jerusalem as he instructed them to do, Herod becomes enraged. He sends in his soldiers to slaughter all the children under the age of two in and around Bethlehem while Joseph and Mary and Jesus run for their lives. This, also, is a part of the Christmas story.

Here is the tension.
And, ultimately, the choice Matthew’s Gospel presents.
On one side are these strangers from the East who come looking for Jesus. Who, if you remember the earlier part of the story when Joseph is about to dismiss Mary because she is pregnant, an angel appears telling him not to do that and informing him the child, when born, will be called and known as Immanuel which means God with us. On the other side of this story is Herod who slaughters all the children in a desperate effort to kill that same child, Immanuel, in order to maintain his power and control. Got it?

Which leads me to this question: Which star do you see and which star will you follow?

I know the way we often think about this story is that somehow, suddenly this wonderous, mysterious, miraculous star appears in the sky. All sorts of possible explanations have been offered about what that star might have been. Halley’s comet. A unique alignment of planets or stars. A new star suddenly appearing and then disappearing. Personally, I love the imagery. But this year I realized maybe none of that is important or what this narrative is really about. And to spend our time talking about how and why and what the possibilities might have been only serves as a distraction to keep us from grappling with what the real point and message of the story.

You see, what I realized in reading and thinking about this story again this year is there were and there are many stars in the sky. Many stars we might see and follow.
Herod saw clearly and was following his star.
|His star was power and control maintained by intimidation and brute force.
But, there were and are other stars, as well.
There is the star of win at all costs.
Or, the star of pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps.
Or, the star of me first.
Or, the star of I deserve this.
Or, the star of I can’t do that.
Or, what if we fail.
Or, I am only one person.
All those stars are there in the sky and the narratives they represent surround us. They flow through the air we breathe and are in the water we drink. They are the stories we were told as we grew up.

Which star will you see and which star will you follow?

And then you come to church.
And here, you are reminded…
Here we are reminded…
There is another story.
Another narrative.
Another star in the sky we might see and follow.
This star has something to do with God with us.
With each and every one of us.
This star has something to do with treating others as we and they would like to be treated. This star has something to do with the last being first and a table big enough for all. This star has something to do being peacemakers and peace on earth. This star has something to do with light and grace and welcome and resurrection.

No wonder Herod was afraid.
Those Magi with their question and that star which they saw and chose to follow called into question EVERYTHING he had built his life around.

And because we believe the Bible is not just about then, but also about now. And not just about them, but also about you and me. The question which confronted both Herod and the Magi is now asked of you and me.
Which star will you see and which star do you follow?

Let me end with this.
What I often say when I finish reading a portion of scripture on Sunday mornings.
May the same Spirit which inspired the Gospel writer to record these words help interpret their meaning for our lives this day.

Are You Ready? A Reflection for Christmas Eve

So here we are. Almost Christmas.
Most of us have spent the last several weeks getting ready.
Trees bought and decorated.
Gifts bought and wrapped.
Holiday parties.
Family gatherings.
Cookies left out for Santa.
Cards and letters sent far and wide.
All wonderful.

And here we are. In this place.
Together with family and friends and neighbors.
Which is as it should be.
Together we sing the familiar carols.
We light and hold our candles.
We retell that age old story.
Silent Night. Holy Night.
Wondrous star led thy light. With the angels let us sing.
All beautiful. Take it in.

But here’s the thing.
For all our preparation and for all the beauty around us I can’t help but wonder if there is something more. Something we miss in all of our other planning and preparation. All of our decorations and gift giving. So much of what we spend time and energy and money on seems to have little to do with that simple, provocative, age old story we read together each year.
A story so familiar we almost know it by heart.
Gentle Mary. Stoic Joseph.
Shepherds in the field abiding.
Angels from the realms of glory.
A story so layered over by tradition and Christmas card images and soften by the glow of candles that the meaning and the challenge the story presents gets lost in the pageantry of our celebration. You know the story, but maybe you miss the tension. Here it is.
Caesar Augustus. Roman Emperor. Self proclaimed Son of God on one side.
Jesus. Born in Bethlehem. Laid in a manger. Gospel proclaimed Son of God on the other side.
King Herod in his palace and on his throne in Jerusalem.
Or, Mary and Joseph making their way from Nazareth to Bethlehem.
The Roman legions who patrol countryside and streets to impose their peace.
Or, the heavenly hosts with their proclamation of Peace on Earth. God’s good will to all.
As we hear the story we are left to ask ourselves and then to decide.
What is this story really trying to say?
Which side of the story will we chose as our own to guide and direct our living?

And, because the Bible is never just about then, but also about now.
And, never just about them, but also about you and me.
And because I believe there is something more to Christmas than Santa and reindeer. I wonder…
What does all this mean for us today?
What does all this mean for you today?
With the world as it is?
With your life as it is?

So if any of this, on some level, rings true or tugs at your heart, let me ask. With everything else already neatly in place…

If there is something in this story about Peace on Earth which weaves itself around some deep longing within you, how is it you are going to get ready for that kind of Christmas?

If there is something in this story about everyone having a place and not just the rich and the powerful and something in the story which brings into focus how you imagine life and world might be. Should be. How is it you are going to get ready that kind of Christmas?

If there is something in this story about God with us which rings true; which tugs at your spirit.
God with us.
Not God over us.
Not God judging us.
Not God condemning us.
God with us in this wonderful, complex, sorrowful, joyful thing we call life.
God with you and me.
God with us and them.
God here.
God now.
Just as you are.
Just as we are.
Just as they are.

So, if there is something about this story…
Something about Christmas
Which is about more than trees and gifts and carols and cards
Then let me ask…
What are you doing to get ready for that kind of Christmas?

Be Careful What You Ask For

Prologue.
In her book Teaching a Stone to Talk Annie Dillard writes:
On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies straw hats or velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmet. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking God draw us out to where we can never return.

Sermon
Much to her mother’s dismay, in early January 1952 my Mom got on a airplane for the first time in her life. She flew from Pittsburgh, PA to the Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage, AK to marry my Dad who was stationed there during the Korean War. I was reminded of this because on the day after Thanksgiving I drove to Pittsburgh to see my Mom. After having dinner together, she ask if I would help decorate her apartment for Christmas. I pulled out her container of Christmas decorations and began putting them around her apartment. The wreath went on the door and the stuffed Santa on the floor outside her door. Her collection of snowmen found a place scattered among her pictures of her grandchildren. Finally, towards the bottom of the container and wrapped in a piece of tissue paper I found an old ornament of a child on a dog sled being pulled by a Huskie. When I asked her about it and ask if she wanted me to find a place for it, my Mom told me it was the first ornament she and my Dad bought together when they were in Alaska and the only ornament they had on first Christmas together. I cleared a space and placed it on the bookcase directly across the room from her favorite chair so she would see it each day. Christmas is like that, isn’t it?

Shodie and I did our own version of that this past week.
We lifted boxes down out of the attic.
We placed candles in our upstairs windows which we do each year.
The Santa painted on a ski went to its designated spot by the front door.
Our collection of creches found their way to the mantle and the hallway table.
And, later today ornaments our children made years ago as Christmas gifts for us will be carefully lifted out of their box and lovingly hung on the tree.
Christmas is like that, isn’t it?

For all those reasons and more, I love Christmas.
I love…
The carols.
The cards.
The lights.
The decorations.
The reminders.
So much of this season is like that. Wrapped up in memories. And in a hope so deep and so real and so profound we can hardly find words to put around it. That is why it is so wonderful. And sometimes so hard. Christmas is like that, isn’t it?

Next Sunday in the Confirmation, the program Kathy DiBiasi and I lead for our 9th grade students as a part of their preparation for their decision about whether or not to join Bedford Presbyterian Church, we will give them our Christmas Quiz. It consists of 24 questions about Christmas and about what the Bible tells us about the birth of Jesus. Here are a couple of the questions.

How did Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem?
Camel. Donkey. Walked. Volkswagen.
Joseph walked and Mary rode a donkey. Who knows.
How many wisemen came to see Jesus?
Write the correct number.
Which animals does the Bible say were present at Jesus’ birth?
Cows, sheep and goats. Cows, donkeys and sheep. Sheep and goats only. Miscellaneous barnyard animals. Lions, tigers and elephants. None of the above.

The last question on the quiz asks how many of the multiple choice responses you think you got right. Most of the youth guess 15 or 18 out of 24. Pretty good, right? But, as we score the quiz, most only get 2 or 3 or maybe 4 or 5 correct. Once everyone gets over the shock and the shouts of disbelief die down, we then look more closely at the narratives about the birth of Jesus to see what is really there. Then talk about the way tradition and story and candlelight and starlight have become wrapped around our understanding of Christmas. But, Christmas is like that, isn’t it?

All of that is to say, that alongside all of our careful and thoughtful preparations for Christmas and the meaning we both give to it and find in it, stands the simple and often surprising, maybe even startling, witness of the Bible. So, with Annie Dillard’s observation about Christians lingering in the background, these two passages – one from Isaiah and one from Mark – designated by the Lectionary to be read on this first Sunday in Advent 2017 as we, as a Christian community, begin our preparation for and our journey towards Christmas.

Isaiah 64: 1-3
O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
   so that the mountains would quake at your presence—
as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil—
to make your name known to your adversaries,
   so that the nations might tremble at your presence!
When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,
   you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.

Mark 13: 24-26
But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory.

O come, O come Emmanuel.
Come, thou long expected Jesus.
Be careful what you ask for.
Be careful as you say those words and sing those carols and as we, as a community of faith, do our best to be ready for God when God comes.
Or, was Annie Dillard correct.
Maybe we are like children playing on the floor with our chemistry sets mixing up a batch of TNT.

Here is what I find myself thinking about as we begin our preparations for Christmas. Besides all the wonder and the excitement and the tinsel and the holiday cheer, the Bible reminds us there is something disruptive about Christmas. Something about the coming of God which make mountains quake and the heavens shake. Something about Advent and Incarnation which turns our world…the world…this world…inside out or right side up. Something about the birth of Jesus which stands counter the traditional world view of who is in and who is out. And about what power looks like. And about who or what asks for and deserves our allegiance.

So, here is my challenge to you. In the midst of everything else you do to get ready for Christmas, pay attention to the story. Pay attention to those moments which are waiting to be transformed turning the moment you have right then right side up. Pay attention to where the disruptive story of Bible wants to break into the routine of your life or the headlines in the news or into the way you use your time or spend your money. Pay attention to that moment which invites you and opens you up to Incarnation or to being Incarnation.

As I said, I love Christmas.
The decorations. The carols. The cards.
I even love shopping for gifts.
And, I also love the Bible.
And I take its witness seriously.
So I am often stopped in my tracks and challenged and convicted by its witness.
Come, thou long expected Jesus.
May the mountains and the heavens and my life and our world be shaken by your coming.

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Several things I believe: