Sermon - Christmas Eve

                                                                A Gift from Above 

            Sit back, relax, and ease your mind.  Even if there are gifts yet to be wrapped;  even if the turkey still has to be pre­pared for tomorrow's baking;  even if there are a few more cards that you fully intend to get into the mail;  for now, there is nothing that you can do about it.  Depending upon how many things are left undone and your attitude toward them, at this point you are either trapped, or freed.  You can't get to them and they can't get to you. 

            I think we undersell Christmas Eve services by continually speaking of them as a time to be with family and friends.  I’m not so sure folks come here to be with anyone.  I think that Christmas Eve services’ greatest draw is that it takes us away.  Away from things to be done, away from tasks to be completed, away from the hectic schedules we have been living for the past four weeks.  

            I have been a pastor for thirty-three years.  During that time, I had all but forgotten how relaxing Christmas Eve services can be.  It was my in-laws who reminded me of the relaxing nature of such services when they announced that they would be willing to drive up here in order to be with us on Christmas morning, but that they would not leave Atlanta before attending the Christmas Eve service in their own church.  “We did our time,” they say in reference to the years of carting children here and there and staying up late to put together and set out gifts.  What they look most look forward to now is a quiet service, in their own church, away from all the noise and hustle. 

            I had somewhat forgotten.  I am grateful to them for helping me to remember how calming and peaceful a Christmas Eve service can be. 

            I realize that the busyness isn't all bad.  These activi­ties occur because there are loved ones, families, friends who we want to be with and to remember with gifts.  As hectic as the busyness may be, it is far better than the emptiness of a Christmas spent alone.  Such experiences have their own toil, bringing their own form of anxious­ness. 

            From whichever end of the spectrum you have departed this evening, this is a wonderful time to relax, to enjoy, and to receive.  You might even want to take a nap.   What a gift that would be. 

            Christmas is a time to receive.  Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our giving that we forget the essential element of receiving.  We take such pride in giving "just the right gift," that we fail to marvel at what is being handed to us.  I don’t know the reason, but we have ceased to be what is most essential if Christmas is to be Christmas.  We’ve lost the ability to be good receivers. 

            Maybe it is guilt.  Have we been so thoroughly schooled that “it is more blessed to give than to receive" and so we feel guilt at receiving? 

            Perhaps it is embarrassment.  We hastily picked-up and wrapped something only to be embarrassed by the thought and insight of the gift which is offered to us. 

            Maybe it is an issue of self-sufficiency.  We take such pride in being able to make our own way so that any acknowledgment of need leads to feelings of humiliation. 

            I don't know what it is, but something has made it difficult for us to be good receivers.  We prefer to be on the giving end and not on the end that gets.  And yet, receiv­ing is the essential act of this season.  Christmas is not celebrated because it is a "time to give".  We mark this day on our calen­dars because it is a time to receive. 

            On Christmas, we receive the gift of God’s Savior.

            Maybe God knew that we had rather give than get, and that is why God choose to come as a little child.  Then, at least for a little while, we could pretend that God needed us.  We could believe, for a while, that without our giving care to that cute little bundle of joy all of this would have been impossible.  But God didn't really need us to do anything.  God just sort of needed us, God wanted us, and therefore God offered to love us.  God wanted us to have, and if the only way we could receive was for God to allow us to think that we were giving in return then so be it.  God would stop at nothing. 

            In a manger, in Bethlehem, God gave us a gift.  A gift beyond any other that could ever be given;  a gift that is but the first installment of all that God has for us.  Christmas is a time to celebrate and to remember ourselves as those who receive.  We receive God's love.

(Pause) 

            Listen to that ... it is so quiet.   Look around you ... there is contentment in every face.  Glory to God in the highest, (for) on earth there is peace among those whom (God) favors.  It is a peace given to us by God;  it is the peace which comes from being on the receiving end of God's grace. 

            Each time we gather a little more of this gift comes our way.  It is such a wonderful gift that it softens our resolve to always be a giver.  God's desire to give is so great that eventu­ally we are all worn down - reeducated on the importance of receiving;  strengthened so as to say "So what," if we aren't the best gift giver around;  opened so that we can admit how needy we really are.  This is what comes to us, in the silence, in the peace of this gathering. 

            Okay, time for those of you who took a nap to wake back up;  we are about to resume the liturgy and you need to find you place in the bulletin.  I need to remind you that those gifts are still in the attic;  the turkey needs to be washed;  and that stack of cards is staring you down. 

            But as you return, glorify and praise God for the luxury of being a receiver.  For to you, this day, a Savior has been born.  God has come into our world, God has come into your life and given you a wonderful gift. 

            How swell it is to be on the receiving end of God's outpour­ing of love.

                                                                                                                                                Amen.

Sermon - 3rd Sunday in Advent - Year B

 Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 & John 1:6-8, 19-28                   

                                                 Is Messiah Needed? 

One of my all-time favorite Advent sermons was preached by William Willimon, native of Greenville and later Dean of the Chapel at Duke University.  He spoke of the times in which we live as the time Between Two Advents.  Christ has already come once in the babe of Bethlehem, and now we await Christ's return.  Willimon speaks of the tension of living between two Advents.  There are a certain number of the promises which have been ful­filled by that first coming.  The arrival in Bethlehem lead to the sacrifice of Golgotha which results in our salvation.  A certain number of the promises have been fulfilled.  But others remain unfilled.  In this time between two advents, we celebrate the fulfillment - while we look forward to the completion. 

I don’t want to preach the same sermon I preached last week, so I have to be careful here.  As with last week’s lessons, these also moved me to address the gap between were we are and where we want to be.  But this week, my spirt was moved not so much with the gaps in our personal lives but rather with the gaps in our communal life.  Not only are we, individually, a long way from where we want to be.  As a society we also have tremendous ground to cover.  If Jesus is the Light to the Nations, if he is the Prince of Peace then there ought to be signs of his having come; there ought to be indications that his followers are working to distribute these gifts to others.

You listened as Isaiah 61 was being read. The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.  You heard those words this morning, but you have heard them before.  They are the exact words Jesus will use when the time comes for him to acknow­ledge who he really is.  This passage, from Isaiah 61, expresses Jesus’ understanding of why it is that he came to the earth.  He came, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. 

That first advent accomplished many great things.  But many things have been left unfulfilled. 

Within our own liturgy, we speak of that which is lacking.  One of the referenc­es to our Eucharistic celebration is to call it a foretaste of the feast to come.  We acknowledge that what we experi­ence is wonderful but that it isn’t all that there is.  God has even more in store for us. 

A certain number of the promises have been fulfilled; but others remain.  Living between two advents, we look to that which has been accomplished, drawing strength as we wait for that which remains unfulfilled.  We look, first in one direction, then in the other.  We look back to experience the wonder and joy of an advent past.  We look forward in anticipation of that which God has promised to do.

Those who are in need, find it comforting to look ahead.  Looking forward to the future advent allows the development of hope.  The promise brings to them the oil of gladness which replaces their mourning.  Those who are in need, understand how essential it is to look ahead. 

Even though separated by some 600 years, the time of Isaiah and the time of Jesus were similar in that both societies were in need.  An occupying force determined the fate of God's people.  Isaiah's prophecy, read for us this morning, was written during the time that the Israelites were held captive by the Assyrians.  They were op­pressed by this foreign power.  At the time of Jesus' birth, the people of God were again under the dominion of a occupying force.  This time it was the Romans who held them captive. 

Here were a people in need.  Their community life had been de­stroyed, their money taken to support another nation's army, their sons and daughters lured away to false gods or decadence.  The people living before that first advent were stirred beyond compare with Isaiah's announcement of the long-awaited Messiah.  Their need was real.  So too were the promises offered by their prophet. 

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me;  (God) has sent me to bring good news to the op­pressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.

As one generation heard Isaiah speak these words and as another generation listened, Jesus read these words in the Temple. These words, this promise instilled hope in the hearts and lives of people who could not trust in their own power.  They were dependent upon God and the promise given to them announced that those who depend upon God will not be disappointed. 

Living before the first advent, the people were continually looking forward - to the time of the fulfillment.  Looking toward the future, they found the strength to endure in the midst of their need. 

Living here, between that first advent and the next, we are sometimes tempted to only look back.  To look upon the Jesus event as that which has forever and always accomplished all that we could hope for.  Living here, between the first advent and the next, we can give thanks for the things that have changed, for the gift of salvation and the presence of the Holy Spirit.  But we must also continue to look forward, to anticipate the time in which God will fulfill all things.  

We are a people in need.  In need of justice, equity, compassion. 

Jesus’ promise is to bring good news to the oppressed.  Certainly, there have been reductions in the number blatantly oppressive govern­ments - but try to sell this achievement to those who continue to live in shanty towns and refugee camps. 

Christ’s arrival was to bind up the brokenhearted.  Why then do we continue to see so many folks with no one to care for them?  Explain to me the isolation induced shooting sprees at any one those American High Schools.

To proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prison­ers.  In one of his books, former President Jimmy Carter speaks of how in his era Governors spoke pridefully of how many prisoners had been returned to society.  Now, bragging rights go to those who build the biggest and toughest cell blocks.  Maybe it is because the issues are so complicated but what I find most disturbing is our seemingly total lack of interest in discovering and addressing the root causes of crime. 

The arrival of Christ was a light, sent to the nations.  Christ is the life of all people.  The first advent signaled the receipt of these gifts.  But things are not complete; things are not over.  There is more to come. 

During these days of our world’s observation of Christmas it would serve us well to consider what Christ’s arrival means.  This celebration is about more than the birth of a cute little baby in Bethlehem.  It is an acknowledgment that God has entered our world and is about the business of setting all things right. 

Our celebration of these days would prove to be the most meaningful if we were to consider how it is that the events of an Advent past gives direction to our role in the coming of the next Advent.  As our Methodist sisters and brothers are quick to point out – now that your salvation has been secured, what are you doing to mold the world into the place God knows (and desires) it to be? 

To paraphrase Luther’s Small Catechism, the second Advent will come regardless of what we do.  But let us pray that it will come through us.

 Amen.

 

Sermon - 2nd Sunday of Advent - Year B

 Isaiah 40:1-11,  Mark 1:1-8                                                              

                                         Anticipating - Expecting

"I have baptized you with water;  but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."  John is saying to his hearers, 'A good thing has happened, but an even better thing awaits you.'  

This is the kind of hype we hear everywhere these days.  As December 25 inches ever closer, we find ourselves bom­barded with messages of "how grateful they will be when given the one gift which exceeds all expectations."  It was nice before; it is going to be even better this year. 

Throughout my childhood, the members of my mother's extended family drew names and exchanged gifts at the Christmas dinner.  I don't remember the gifts that I got for the first 12 or so years.  There was a series of poorly made pajamas from my Aunt Mutt;  toys from Aunt Helen that did not make it through the first demolition derby;  and gifts mailed to us from Aunt Lee which would have been appropriate the last time she visited us -  four or five years in the past.  

The first gift I remember getting was one my Aunt Izzy gave me.  This gift came just as I was entering adolescence.  Aunt Izzy gave me my first real tie - a tie that you have to tie - not a child’s clip on.  She presented it to me, commenting that since I was becom­ing a young man, I needed a grown man's tie.  That did it.  From then on, there was only one giver of gifts in my mother's family.  I would ask mother if there weren’t some way to rig the drawing so I would know that Aunt Izzy was always going to get my name.  In my mind, she gave the gifts which far exceeded all my expectations. 

"I have baptized you with water;  but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."  John is telling his hearers, 'A good thing has happened, but an even better thing awaits you.'  

John, in speaking to the Israelites, uses poetry which had been around for centuries.  John quotes the prophet Isaiah, who in the 3rd century b.c.e. had come to Israel to inform them that God was about to visit them with the most wonderful gift they could ever imagine.  Isaiah spoke to a people who had been carried off from their home­land - they were living as slaves, tending gardens which were not their own.  Israel had been overrun by the Babylo­nians and the leaders of the Jewish sect had been carried off into exile.  This exile is the event spoken of in our advent hymn, “O come, O come Emmanuel...and ransom captive Israel, who sits in lonely exile here, until the Son of Man appear."  

The people of God were slaves.  They were not in their own homeland; they were not tending their own gardens.  They were in exile and longed for the day when they would be set free. 

Arguably, the thing which had enabled Yahweh's chosen people to endure this horrible punishment was their confidence that none of this was outside the reach of God's hand.  It was Isaiah who had foretold these events.  He had warned them of their demise.  Isaiah told them that the king of Babylon was acting at God's command; that the exile had occurred as God's way of chastising and disciplining.  Isaiah had encouraged Israel to view their captivity as one would look upon the discipline of a loving parent. 

Though they had been separated from their temple and from the land promised to their ancestors they had not been cut off from God's love.  God had remained with them.  God was with them, in their lowly exile. 

But the time of ransom was about to occur.  Soon, very soon, God would visit them in the valley of their despair and that valley would be lifted up;  God would climb to the heights of their hopelessness and that mountain would be made low;  God would enter into the wilderness of their isolation and proclaim a message of salvation.  “Prepare the way of the Lord,” the prophet tells them.  Ease the path which God must travel.  Do it now, do it fast.  Do not allow anything to impede God's arrival. 

A wonderful thing is about to happen.  Wait for it, watch for it, and expect it.  It was true for Israel in the 5th century b.c.e.  It was true for those who went out to the River Jordan to listen to the sermons of John the Baptist. 

John's sermons were of the Get Right with God, variety.  His listeners were called upon to examine their lives and root out their transgressions.  As a sign and symbol of their renewed commitment to God and God's word they underwent a ritualized washing called baptism.  It was a baptism with water; an outward act which was intended to symbolize their renewed commitment.  It was a way of saying, “I will try to do better.”  It was a baptism with water.  It was a good thing - but something better was about to come.  John was making straight the path for the arrival of the one who truly would level those mountains of hope­lessness, lift up the valleys of despair, and overrun the wilderness of isolation. 

The baptism of Jesus is a baptism by fire.  It is the baptism which invites us into the death and resurrection of our Messiah.  It a baptism in which Christ is the actor and we the recipient.  Unlike the baptism of John, which could be nullified by irreverent or disobedient behavior, the Baptism into Christ can never loose its power.  It is built upon Jesus’ sacrificial death and God’s resurrecting him from the tomb.  It is a baptism which can never loose its power or effect. 

When we read this message from Mark’s Gospel, we aren’t simply taking a walk down memory lane.  The Gospel isn’t some word that was spoken once upon a time which we review and think, “Well isn’t that nice.”  In reading the Gospel, we are announcing, in our very presence, the same promise of God's eminent arrival.  This morning, as Mark's Gospel was read in our midst, it has the effect of being an announcement.  The read is announcing that God will enter your world, your life and give to you that gift which far exceeds all expectations.  It may have been good before, but it is about to get even better. 

You will have to examine the circumstances of your own life to understand where this gift might express itself.  

We sometimes allow ourselves to believe that the birth of Jesus is where the story ends.  But this is far from the case.  The birth is only the beginning.  From there the story moves through a ministry of healing and compassion on its way to an act of sacri­fice and redemp­tion.  The story continues to run that same cycle; bringing to each age a renewed promise of God's grace.  We are the ones who must risk offering to God the hurts and needs of our lives. 

"I have baptized you with water;  but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.  "It was good before, but now it is going to be even better."  "Come to the water, you who thirsts come to me.  Listen, Listen and you will hear." 

Amen.