Doing my best to find my way.
What if God was a verb and not a noun.
More action than being.
And what if the same were true about Christmas.
Then maybe instead of…
Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays
This.
Be peace.
Be hope.
Be light.
Be God with us.
Be Christmas.
May you have a wonder filled, joy filled, light filled Christmas.
And, together may we all walk together in the direction of Peace on Earth.
Somewhere, O God
In some forgotten corner of our lives or world
In some ordinary and precious moment
In some person
(Maybe more than one I hope and pray)
May Christmas come
Beyond our trees and tinsel
Beyond our gift wrapping and gift giving.
In some place
May peace break out.
In some unexpected moment
May an angel appear.
In some life
May courage take root.
In some searching
May a way be found.
In some darkness
May a light shine.
In some cry
May new life emerge.
Somewhere, O God
May Christmas come.
For the Fourth Sunday in Advent.
One of the luxuries in which I indulge is having Sirius XM radio in our cars. Most of time the radio is tuned to the NPR station, but when I am tired of “talk radio,” even if it is important and/or informative, there are a host of music stations I can listen to without too many commercials or having to search for stations as I drive. Last week, driving home from helping a friend with a project, I tuned the car radio to one of XM’s holiday music stations. Listening to the carols and the familiar music of the season is one of the ways I get my heart and head ready for Christmas. As I listened, this song came on. One of my favorites. One I would listen to several times during Advent and Christmas either sitting by myself in the front room of our home with just the lights from our Christmas tree on or sitting in the candle lit sanctuary of the church. Since I was driving I couldn’t shut my eyes and just listen, but I did turn the volume up and allowed the music and the message and the memories to wash over me.
In the midst of the wonder and stress and joy and sorrow of the season, may you find a moment to sit by yourself and to take a deep breath and allow the mystery and the meaning of God with us to wash over you no matter where you are or how you are just as this song washed over me as I drove home in the dark on that Advent night a week or so ago.
There are the”candles” in our windows.
Turned on each evening.
Light shining in the darkness.
And, our Christmas tree.
Decorated with ornaments collected over a lifetime.
This year including the first ornament my Mom and Dad bought when they celebrated their first Christmas together in Alaska where my Dad was stationed during the Korean War. An Eskimo child on a dog sled. I was almost two months old.
And, the Advent candles we light and the Christmas music we play as we share dinner together.
The other tradition I treasure is baking bread.
I have baked bread most of my adult life.
But this bread is different.
We began baking it when our oldest son was in elementary school.
Rather than give his teacher a mug or a book, we decided we would make bread and give her a loaf of our fresh made Christmas bread. And, so we did.
6 year old hands on top of mine as we kneaded the bread.
Standing on a stool so he could reach the counter.
Then standing next to me. His hands next to mine.
Then our second son adding his hands.
And his presence.
Each Advent for more than 30 years.
Now it is just me.
Standing at the kitchen counter.
Kneading the bread.
Smelling it as it bakes.
But, they are still there.
My sons.
Young hands on top of mine.
Strong hands next to mine.
And, with me too are all those to whom we have given our Christmas bread.
Family.
Friends.
Co-workers.
Neighbors.
Mixed together in the dough.
And the memories.
As I get ready for Christmas.
December 2nd.
This coming Sunday.
Marks the First Sunday in Advent.
The first of the four Sundays which precede Christmas.
For the first time in more than 40 years I am not responsible for bulletins or prayers or a Christmas Eve reflection. Looking back, I am sure there were moments when all of it was more than I could manage, but for the most part I loved it. The thinking and the writing forced me to focus on that something more which too often and too easily gets lost in the glitter and the tinsel and the holiday cheer, and provide me the time and the opportunity to wrestle with the challenge and the promise of words like:
Swords into plowshares.
And, light in the darkness.
And, Emmanuel/God with us.
This year will be different.
There are no deadlines.
No prayers to write.
No external pressures.
Which force me to pay attention.
I am on my own.
Just like you and so many others.
Who navigate the responsibilities of the day while leaning into the promise of what might be.
But, not alone really.
Across whatever distance
Let us join hearts and hands
As we hold onto the hope
And, stumble our way towards that promised day.
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.
