Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer (Psalm 19:14).

Sunday, December 30, 2012

The First Sunday after Christmas Day - December 30

Light Shines in the Darkness
John 1:1-18

The metaphors or images of darkness and light are important in John's Gospel. In the introduction to the Gospel, which is the reading appointed for this First Sunday after Christmas, we are given a vivid introduction to the symbolism of light and darkness.

From this morning's reading, in the New Revised Standard translation:  What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

I have always found that last line powerful. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.  Even the smallest of lights can be seen in the darkness.

But maybe you remember the King James translation of this verse: And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

To spend a little more time with this verse, I looked up a few additional translations.

From the New English Bible:  The light shines on in the dark, and the darkness has never mastered it.

From the New Jerusalem Bible:  Light shines in darkness and darkness could not overpower it. 

I have one more association with the verse.  From Benjamin Britten's opera Billy Budd.  So this is an opera by Britten, based on a novella by Herman Melville, with libretto by E. M. Forster (who was pretty handy with the English language.)  In it, there is a man who is evil:  John Claggert.  Claggert sees in the young man Billy Budd pure goodness.  And, in the opera, he responds by singing:  "O beauty, o handsomeness, goodness! Would that I ne’er encountered you! Would that I lived in my own world always, in that depravity to which I was born. There I found peace of a sort, there I established an order such as reigns in Hell. But alas, alas! The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness comprehends it and suffers."  A reference to the King James translation.  The darkness does comprehend the light, but that comprehension brings suffering to the darkness.

It’s one Greek word, of course, that describes what the darkness cannot do to the light.  There are several translation challenges.  First, it is in the aorist. If I remember correctly, that's not a verb tense we really have in English. Basically, it is a past tense that implies continuing action. Hence some of the translations speaking of the light shining on and the darkness continuing to struggle.  And the meaning is difficult to translate. It can mean:

1) to grasp in the sense of comprehend
2) to welcome, receive, accept
3) to overcome, or grasp in a hostile sense
4) to master

These are what the darkness would, but cannot do, to the light that has come into the world.

Whatever meaning the word takes, it speaks of a darkness that has will, motivation. The darkness is Godlessness within ourselves, within our world.  Those places within ourselves and within our world that turn away from Christ.  And those places of darkness are not passive; they are not just an absence of light.  The darkness has will, motivation, power.  Do not underestimate it.

And the darkness interacts with the light. The darkness perceives the light.  In the presence of the light, the darkness suffers, and would quench its beam.  The darkness struggles against the light... tries to overcome, comprehend, master, overpower.

But the darkness will never prevail. However you translate it, John says it.  Even the most powerful darkness will...  not...  prevail...  over the Light of Christ.  The tiniest candle can be seen throughout a vast and empty room. A single star will guide wise travelers across continents as they come seeking God. A tiny baby embodies all of heaven's brilliance. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not, can not, will not overcome it.

Christmas Day

Wanting What We Already Have

Frazz is one of the comics I read fairly regularly. I still miss my all time favorite Calvin and Hobbs, and I don’t always understand Frazz, but I want to share with you a strip that appeared a few days ago.

Frazz takes place at Bryson Elementary School. Several precocious children are recurring characters, especially a young boy named Caulfield. There are several quirky teaches and the school custodian, Frazz, who also happens to be a songwriter and do triathlons.

So Frazz is working in the school hallway and a young girl comes up to him and says, “Know what I want for Christmas? I want to wake up next to a warm, purring kitty.”

Frazz replies, “You want a new cat?” She says, “No, the same one.”

In the final frame, Frazz says, “I like how you think,” and she replies “Why should I have to not have something to want it?”

Why should I have to not have something to want it? Can't we already have something, and still want it, too?

In addition to being an indictment of the ultra consumerism of Christmas where advertisers try to instill desire in us for things we do not have, do not need and probably really do not want… I think this strip is pretty good theology. Why should I have to not have something to want it? We can know we have something, like a kitty who is warm and purrs; and at the same time still yearn for it, too.  To affirm what we have and experience desire at the same time. To still eagerly want what we have already been given. I think that is the Christian celebration of Christmas.  To celebrate that we have been given in Jesus' birth all that our hearts and souls could desire.  But at the same time still want and yearn for the presence of Emmanuel, God with us.  Simultaneous thankful celebration and yearning. That’s the Christian Christmas. Simultaneous celebration and yearning.

So, in that spirit what do I want for Christmas this year? A bright and shining star to guide me to God in the midst of life’s dark paces.

Frazz might ask, “A new star?”

No, the same one. The same one I’ve always had. Why should I have to not have something to want it?

And I’d like a song to sing that soars with joy and peace. I suppose a new one would be OK, if it was good. But why should I have to not have something to want it? I have Adeste Fideles and Joy to the World… I have them, and I want them, too.

And what I really, really want most for Christmas is for God to come. To me.  To come be with us. In gentleness and strength. Close enough to touch but full of majesty. To comfort and guide. To teach and forgive. I want a savior and a shepherd. To be with me to bless my struggles and give breath to my hopes. To bring joy and peace.

You want a new God for Christmas, Frazz might ask.

No, the same one. Why should I have to not have something to want it.  We can still want what we already have.

This Christmas season, wishing you both joyous celebration and eager yearning for our Savior's birth.

Christmas Eve

O Holy Night 

There was an article in today’s Tribune about the Christmas song, “O holy night."  For many people, it’s a special favorite.  You probably have a version you particularly like; mine is Pavarotti's. As the Trib noted in passing, it is a song that calls for a solo voice (unlike most Christmas carols).  Many singers in different styles and with varying success have recorded it over the years.

But it’s not the song I want to focus on, but the words. Holy Night. Holy Night.

Over and over again, in hymns and poems, human beings across the centuries have called this night “holy.” That word “holy," of course, is a word we use a lot in the church.We use it so frequently I imagine for many of you it usually just slides by without much notice or particular significance. It’s a word we say a lot in church, you expect to hear it. (As an aside it’s interesting that we don’t use it much at all outside of church.) But for some reason, tonight the word "holy" is not routine, not something that just slips by relatively unnoticed. Not on this holy night. This is a holy night.  And calling this night “holy” is important.

Especially when I’m teaching children about Holy Communion or working with adults, too, I ask people to define “holy” in their own words. Usually folks struggle just a bit. Something to do with God, they say. It’s hard to put exactly into words.

But, although it may be hard to come up with a dictionary-style definition for holy or holiness, you know it when you see it. You know it when you feel holiness. You know it when you experience holiness. And now, this night, this holy night, is one of those times.  One of those times when we see and hear and know holiness.

Tonight we know what holiness looks like. It looks like a baby born in a manger. A baby just like any other, except … holy. A little baby boy who is holiness.

Holiness is what angels sound like singing.

Somehow a simple story of shepherd’s and magi’s awe and wonder expresses something holy that we can touch and share.

Holiness is the vision of angels’ wings just visible, shimmering light in the dark.

 Holiness is the feeling born in human hearts this night—the inexplicable, but inextinguishable ember of hope within, no matter what is going on outside.

This night we are surrounded by holiness and filled with holiness. Maybe it’s hard to describe or explain, but it’s there. This night. This holy night.

God’s gift this night is holiness. Given to us. Into our lives; into our world. God, with us.

Holiness came into our world that night in Bethlehem so many years ago when God was born in a manger. Holiness came into our world and it has never left.

In this annual celebration of the holy nativity our awareness is renewed. Our confidence is restored that we may seek and expect holiness throughout our lives.

As a part of the Prayer Book service of Daily Evening Prayer, we pray “that this evening may be holy, good and peaceful.” That’s a prayer to be said daily, any evening,  every night. And because this night is holy, and we know it is holy, we can expect any night, all other nights, to be holy, too.

Because we see and hear the holy angels on this night, we can look for them to guard us and sing to us on other nights.

Because an unquenchable light shines in the darkness of this holy night, we can grasp the promise that we will never be conquered by the dark.

Hang on to the holiness of this night. It is real and it does not depart with tomorrow’s sunrise.

Because God in all of his holiness was born in human flesh on this night, we human beings are invited to know and share God’s holiness throughout our lives.

O holy night. The stars are brightly shining. This is the night of our dear Savior’s birth.  O, holy night.

Fourth Sunday of Advent - December 23

The Prophet Mary
Luke 1:39-45

Some of you may remember that Diocesan Convention this fall was all about “fierce” conversations. I didn’t go to the workshop on fierce conversations, but I did hear the keynote speaker. In this context “fierce” is considered a good thing. Basically, it seems to refer to communication that is open, honest, courageous. In a different time and place, rather than encouraging fierce conversations, we might have said: “Get real.” “Don’t beat around the bush.” “Tell it like it is.”

The people who talk about fierce conversations, describe them as having these qualities:
They interrogate reality.
Provoke learning.
Tackle tough challenges.
Enrich relationships.

That sounds to me like the job description for a prophet. We hear a lot from the prophets during Advent. They definitely lay bare the reality of their day, often naming the people’s faithlessness. They vigorously provoke learning about God’s purpose. They speak in challenging times and situations. And yet, all that the prophets do is ultimately with the hope and purpose of enriching peoples’ relationships with God.

The prophetic voices of Advent often seem to be foretelling the future, and part of what Advent is about is looking forward. But really the prophets speak to their present. They say: this is what God is like. This is what God intends. This is where God’s desire meets your reality.

Jeremiah says: a righteous branch shall spring up for David. He shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. Our God is a God of righteousness and judgment.

Malachi: He is like a refiner’s fire and fuller’s soap; he will purify the descendents of Levi until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness.

Zephaniah: The Lord, your God is in your midst.

Micah: He shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord.

And finally, one more prophetic voice: “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” Yes, Mary stand squarely in this line of Old Testament prophets.

Writing in 1891, not exactly a time of rampant feminism, B. W. Johnson wrote: Elizabeth and Mary are the first two human prophets of the New Testament. (I guess maybe they were preceded by the non-human, angelic Gabriel.)

In the Gospel today, we heard Mary’s prophetic song, the magnificat. I can’t help but ponder how differently we might perceive these words if they had been said by a male voice.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant. 
From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has doe great things for me, and holy is his Name. 
He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation. 
He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit. 
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. 
He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, for he has remembered his promise of mercy, 
The promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children for ever. 

We think of Mary in many ways. Young. Humble. “Mother Mary meek and mild.” Obviously many mothering images are associated with her. Although anyone who knows anything about mothering knows that being a mother means much more than being meek and mild. She must have been strong. And certainly faithful. Over the centuries in Catholic piety she has been seen as intercessor and guide. Mary, pray for us.

I think over the years I have seen the magnificat primarily as a song of praise. A wonderful unrestrained song of praise. Mary’s words of praise. And certainly the first few lines fit that perspective. But, overall, reading and hearing the magnificat as a whole, it fits right into this prophetic tradition. It’s mostly about God. A fierce, prophetic proclamation of God’s perspective. God’s promise. This is God’s vision for reality! Mary proclaims. God brings down the powerful from their thrones. God comes to the lowly and does great things for them God scatters the proud, but feeds the hungry. For those who are faithful, God’s strength is shown in mercy.

Mary not only foretells Jesus’ coming, even more importantly she proclaims who Jesus is. Who God is. In a sense she is prophetically laying out of Jesus’ mission statement.

Writing about Jeremiah’s prophecy, Melinda Quivik states: The prophet is the one who holds out a vision for us to cling to especially when we cannot grasp the meaning. Mary gives us a vision to cling to even in times when its fulfillment may be difficult for us to envision or grasp. Mary, majestically and prophetically, tells us who this child will be and how he will bring God’s purpose into our world.

Our God is one…
Who has no patience with the powerful and proud.
Whose strength is expressed in mercy for those who revere him.
Who lifts up the lowly and feeds the hungry.

This is the God of the ancient prophets.
This is the God born a baby in the manger.
This is the God of our own time.

Our God is one who comes to lift up the lowly and feed the hungry, both literally and metaphorically.

To all who are hungry for lack of food or whose souls are starved for hope and peace. To all who are lowly, trampled down or marginalized by this world or brought low by anxiety, confusion or fatigue. To all who are hungry or lowly, God comes to you. This is Mary’s prophecy.

Third Sunday of Advent - Decmeber 16

Rejoice, You Brood of Vipers
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18

On this Third Sunday of Advent, as we look forward to Christmas, we are still in the wilderness with John the Baptist. John, of course, is one of the main figures of Advent. John, who helped prepare the way for Jesus’ coming.

On the whole, John the Baptist seems to have been a glass half empty sort of guy.

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Repent!

If he had been more of a glass half full sort of guy, he might have said, “Rejoice, you brood of vipers, your salvation is drawing near.” Rejoice, you brood of vipers.

The other readings appointed for this Sunday are full of rejoicing. Rejoice in the Lord always, Paul says to the Philippians. And Zephaniah, not necessarily known for his cheerful disposition, can hardly contain himself: “Sing aloud O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem.”

Rejoice, you brood of vipers. The people John is calling vipers are people who had come to him for baptism! It’s a mixed group. Crowds of people coming out from Jerusalem to the wilderness… Matthew’s account suggests Pharisees and Sadducees were among them, the religious elite of the day. Luke mentions soldiers and tax collectors, the social scum of that day. I tend to smile at John’s hyperbole… brood of vipers. But I imagine he was pretty serious. John say all of the people gathered were, in the words of today’s collect, “sorely hindered by their sins.”

And to those sinners, he says, do not flee. John perceives the people trying to escape judgment by fleeing. The image he has is of snakes or other wildlife trying to flee from a spreading wildfire.  The fire of judgment.  And he says, you cannot escape judgment by fleeing. It’s a futile effort. Impossible. Neither can you expect a pass on judgment just because you have Abraham for an ancestor. Your only hope is repentance. Repent, because there is forgiveness. Repentance is not a solution to sin in and of itself. The reason to repent is because God forgives.

And that is something to rejoice about. Rejoice, God will forgive. Even you. You brood of vipers. Our repentance and God’s forgiveness lead to a new world. Zephaniah is talking about that world on the other side of God’s forgiveness. The Lord has taken away the judgments against you. The Lord is in your midst. He will renew you in his love.

John preached repentance, but promised forgiveness. The Greek word translated repentance is metanoia. Metanoia, which means a course correction. In addition to an acknowledgement of regret for past sins, metanoia carries with it the promise of a new and better path. Rejoice, on the other side of repentance is forgiveness. Renewal in God’s love.

The horrible shooting Friday in Newtown, Connecticut, is before us all today. Over the course of the day on Friday as I heard more about the tragedy, I was reminded of this prayer. It’s in the Rite 1 burial service in the Book of Common Prayer.

"Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting. Amen."

Help us to believe in the forgiveness of sins. John the Baptist brings the promise of God’s forgiveness of sins. Help us to believe and trust in the proclamation that John brings of forgiveness. The communion or fellowship of saints and the resurrection to life everlasting are things we come to understand after John, from Jesus.

In this wilderness in which we still find ourselves, in the midst of things we cannot understand, stir up your power O Lord, and help us. Help us to believe and trust and even rejoice in the promise that John brings of forgiveness, the promise that God will be with us and renew us in his love. And help us, too, beyond John’s proclamation, to believe and trust and even rejoice the communion of saints and in the resurrection hope made known to us through the one whose coming John foretold, Jesus.

You brood of vipers, rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.

Second Sunday of Advent - December 9

More Powerful than the G8 

Hope to get caught up soon. Please check back.

First Sunday of Advent - December 2

Looking Forward to the Second Coming

Hope to get caught up soon.  Please check back.