Chris Yaw

In the midst of the Mayfield, Kentucky Storm debris, a young Latina mother shifted through the rubble of what was once her home.

"Thank God!" She said as a reporter grilled her on what had happened, "My husband came in the house and told us to all get down that the storm was coming, and it swept everything away, everything we own, our entire house, but I am so thankful today."

"Why?" asked the reporter.

"Because my entire family is alive!", the woman exclaimed, "My children, my husband, we all made it out alive!"

Her sentiments echo those of another young mother, who once faced immense trial and chose to tell herself a story not about what she’d lost, but what she had.

This weekend marks the 4th Sunday of Advent and our introduction to Mother Mary, still pregnant, and off visiting her cousin Elizabeth, who is also pregnant. Elizabeth is elated and sings Mary's praises, including the memorable compliment: “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her..."

Mary, an unwed, pregnant teenager is most certainly not where she thought she would have been. What of her reputation and her dreams of a proper courtship, marriage, and motherhood?

We can only imagine all of the things Mary gave up!

Yet Elizabeth calls her ‘blessed’ and Mary owns it.

These are stories of agency - and women who refused to link external forces to the way they chose to talk to themselves - to look at the situation. It’s as if they’re saying: We can decide to claim possibility and take action instead.

This is why Elizabeth calls Mary blessed - we call her blessed.

Mary was blessed because she believed God.

She believed God had a purpose for her life.

She believed God would take care of her.

She believed God knew more about what would fulfill her than she did.

She believed God could bring her through the tornadoes of life - for even destruction and death cannot separate us from the love of God.

It’s the same for you and me.

We can take agency. Thank God.

Once we see that we’re able to own our story, we gain a huge amount of power.

And we retain that power for as long as we refuse to hand it over to someone else.

We choose to believe God

To believe God sees us -

That God has a purpose for our lives -

That God will take care of us -

That God knows more about what fulfill us than we do.

Mary’s story is to trust that God-

It’s to go all in, sign over our lives, give to God suspecting that God will be giving so much more back to us - because God’s love for us is that immense.

And so we ask: who’s story are we believing?

Are we taking the God-given agency over our lives that Mary did?

What’s keeping us from going ‘all in’ with God?

What’s keeping us from trusting - handing over - giving over -

Do we dare to believe the promises, the stories, of God?
And live as if they are true?

When it takes twice as long for the clothes dryer to do its job I know what's the matter.

Of course we clean out the lint filter regularly, but every do often so much lint accumulates that a deeper cleaning is necessary. I have a special light and tools to make this happen. Then, 10 minutes and a big ball of lint later, we are back in business and the dryer can do what the dryer is supposed to do.

Unfortunately what happens to clothes dryers also happens to us.

As life goes on things accumulate, habits, routines, and possessions can clog our filters, until we're unable to do what we're supposed to do.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “to be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment."

And the world often goes about that task of making us something else, through the accumulated clutter that you and I pick up - clutter that routinely needs to be purged.

This is what John the Baptist is talking about this Sunday, it’s one of Advent’s biggest themes: all those things that are keeping us from getting more serious with God with our goals, with our dreams, with our lives, need to be evaluated - and all those things that are clogging up the filter need to be cleaned out.

And so, what are the things that have gotten clogged in our filters?

How can they be dislodged?

How can we get back to the life we want to live, that God wants us to live?

May Advent, be for us, this wonderful opportunity to be more aware, more alive, more ourselves - made our best, in Christ.

There are no unwounded students, staff, or citizens in Michigan today.

We are all mourning the deaths of 3 teenagers, gunned down at their school in Oxford. We are all saying prayers. Reaching out to friends there. And we parents are all giving our kids extra hugs.

And after the police tape comes down, the memorial services are held, and school starts back up again, sooner or later the mourning gives way to the questions we all ask: why did God allow a teenager to shoot and kill his classmates? Where was God when those victims needed protecting? What kind of world has God created that allows this kind of violent tragedy?

If there were one good, easy answer we would have heard it by now.

If there was one, readily and universally accepted answer, we wouldn't be asking these questions. (BTW if you've found one good, easy answer, don’t believe it…)

Of course there’s not one.

Instead, there are theories.

Lots of them.

Theologians and philosophers call the subject theodicy. And if you Google it you can find a lot of different answers from ‘Everything is God’s will’ to ’There is no God.’ I’ve found Richard Rice’s book, Suffering and the Search for Meaning especially accessible and helpful.

Nonetheless, when we ask the question, ‘Where is God in Oxford?’ I respond by saying - ‘Right in the middle of it - comforting the bereaved, strengthening the caregivers, and working for justice around the questions of gun safety and mental health access.'

If we start from the supposition that ‘God is love’ as the Bible defines God - then deduce that love necessitates a freedom of choice - a free will - then consider the words in John 15:15, that God doesn’t just call us disciples but friends - on an equal par - to partner with God in the healing of the world - then we can approach this complex and thorny subject with a particular answer.

That answer is that while God loathes violence like this, it is allowed under God’s loving gift of freedom. And that egregious violations of this freedom invite us to partner with God to take action - to comfort the hurting, assist the injured, and to work for change in how we live together, doing our best to ensure this never happens again.

In this season of Advent, Christians await the miracle of God’s love - as God becomes human in Jesus and dwells with us. God is not far away and removed from pain, but God suffers with us. God knows what it’s like to lose a child, just as God knows what it’s like to work for justice and change.

If God is in Oxford doing God’s part in putting back the broken pieces, then we’re invited to play our part in doing the same.

How fitting that Advent kicks off just a few days after Thanksgiving, giving us a terrific introduction into the new year, 2022, which our Parish is calling the Year of Gratitude.

In 2022 we will encourage one another to be especially thankful for God's blessings, to look reflectively at the events in our lives for which we may not initially be thankful, and to discover anew how thankfulness lies at the heart of our faith and as a foundation of joyful, Christ-centered living.

After all, psychological study after study shows us that grateful people are healthier, cope better with adversity, and actually live longer than people who are not intentionally grateful. Because when we’re grateful we’re more present - we’re more alive.

To do that we have a rather kitchy challenge for you: Next time you come to church we are going to offer you a blue ‘Gratitude' wristband (see above). We invite you to put it on your right wrist or in your right pocket and wear it for 21 days straight. However, during that time you can’t complain. If you do complain, you have to say 2 ‘gratitudes’ (things for which you are grateful), and then transfer the wristband to the left wrist or your left pocket. You get to start all over again the next day.

I know some of you are already going to ask for two wristbands, one for each wrist, so you won't have to keep transferring it back and forth...

And while this, admittedly, sounds rather hokey, forming a more grateful heart is not.

This Sunday is the first Sunday in Advent and we will hear readings around thankfulness.

And we will contemplate the words of a famous author once said that everything is a gift. And the degree to which we are aware of this is a measure of our gratitude, as our gratitude is a measure of our aliveness.

Let us make the year ahead one in which we are more thankful, and more alive.

After seeing the latest Marvel comic book movie featuring an antihero character named Venom, my 12-year-old son tried to answer a question from his younger brother who asked, "Is Venom a good guy or a bad guy?"

My son balked, thought about it, and finally said well, "He's a good guy who sometimes does bad things."

And if we could carve into the hearts of all humanity this fundamental truth, living with its nuances and grace, we would be much farther along in the ball game.

The fact that you and I swim in a sea brimming with financial and family worries, political turmoil, regrettable actions, dashed expectations, and missed opportunities, is not news.

Nor are we unaware that we also swim alongside our best friends, valued possessions, generous charitable actions, altruistic attitudes, and stupendous accomplishments.

And one of the challenges of this ongoing marathon swim is to keep these things in perspective, understanding that there are horrible things we endure, but by the grace of God we can make it.

Not only are we good people who sometimes do bad things, but we battle our tendency to define ourselves by the worst things we've ever done or the worst experiences we've ever gone through.

This Sunday in church, we will hear Jesus talk about a little bit about this. We Christians now approach the season in our liturgical calendars called Advent, which typically kicks off with prophetic and apocalyptic-style scripture readings that serve to warn us of life's brevity, the seriousness of the battles we face, and the victories that await us.

Amidst this, the message is always one of encouragement and hope in the midst of our trials. No, we are not to be defined by our worst actions or traumas, but to embrace life in its entirety, knowing that the battle is long, but not impossible, taxing, but not fatal, and in the end God wins, love wins, and walking each day in that confidence of hope and joy is what it means to keep our eyes on Christ and to act in faith.

Let's be good to ourselves and to others, we are fighting hard and important battles - life gets really really difficult, but let's keep our eyes on the prize, our feet grounded in faith, knowing that God will carry us through.

When I was in grade school I was on the basketball team.

Not because I was any good, but because we only had 18 people in my grade and I was the tallest one.

After tryouts, our coach told who been chosen then handed out uniforms. They were bright green tank tops with gold satin shorts only the 1970's could have produced. Emblazoned across our shirts was the word Wildcats.

Clearly what made me a Wildcat was not my ability to dribble or shoot, I have never been a very good basketball player. What made me a Wildcat was the coach's decision to pick me, give me a uniform, and use me: I was not the chooser, I was the chosen.

As All Saints Sunday approaches, this story comes to mind.

After all, the Bible calls all Christians saints. And while we are reticent to use that term when referring to ourselves, the Bible clearly says we are. And when we think about it, we are saints not because we call ourselves so, but because God does. Sainthood is not based on anything we've done, but on what God has done. We are saints because God says so.

What makes us saints, then, is not our ability to act in a certain way, but God's ability to work through us in certain ways.

Sainthood is not based on good behavior, but God’s behavior.

So when we call people saints, let’s think about it as a compliment to God. We're acknowledging God's grace to people and we're witnessing a miracle: that God uses meager souls like us to channel really good things into the world.

We’re acknowledging that we can do good really good things, like bring love, healing, forgiveness, and reconciliation into the world.

We’re acknowledging that saintly things that come from God, can come through us!

Sure, All Saints Day is about acknowledging Christ's followers, but most of all, it's about acknowledging Christ.

Within days of Alec Baldwin's tragic accidental killing, his enemies were at work.

Baldwin, who was acting on a movie set, shot a prop gun that had mistakenly been loaded with real bullets, killing a cinematographer and injuring a director.

While the actor has been visibly distraught and penitent, his enemies are choosing to kick him while he's down: Donald Trump, Jr. started selling t-shirts on his website that read 'Guns don't kill people, Alec Baldwin kills people.'

And while these t-shirts give us pause to stop and think about Trump, Jr., we do well to pause and think... about Jesus.

After all, while Christ was at his lowest, hanging on the cross, a helpless victim, watching his enemies draw lots over his belongings, all the while mocking and cursing him, what was his response?

Jesus looked upon his enemies not with hatred and vengeance, but with love. 'Forgive them,' is all he said.

He didn't hit back, scream obscenities, or print t-shirts.

Jesus loved.

Everybody.

My friend Bob says, to love God is to love the things God loves.

And God loves people. All people.

Sure God hates lots of the things we do, our lying, cheating, selfishness, and indifference to suffering, but God does not hate us. Any of us.

This weekend at church we will hear Jesus affirm the two commandments upon which our faith rests: that we love God and love our neighbors as ourselves.

When we unpack this, we realize Jesus was not put to death for being hateful, aggressive, or violent, but for loving. He loved the poor and downtrodden enough to speak up for them. He loved fairness and equality enough to champion it. He loved people who had done despicable things enough to dine with them - tax collectors, prostitutes, and sinners - everybody.

No matter what others thought, Jesus loved people. All people.

So we cannot love God and hate people.

No matter who they are or what they've done, our work is clear.

How can we trade in our tendencies to mock, denigrate, belittle, hit back, and take vengeance... for love?

If this is hard for us, relax, it's supposed to be.

Loving without bounds is how we carry the cross.

It's how we share in the passion of the Christ.

It's the hard work of following Jesus.

Can we do it?

With God all things are possible.

For the relentless mental battles we constantly fight, let us consider three words.

The first is for yesterday, and the word is mercy. Mercy for all of the misgivings we have about missed opportunities, bad behavior, basically the mistakes that we've made and just can't fix. Let's have mercy on ourselves. Let's stop putting quarters into the kick-me machine and more fully embrace our humanity, which means we will make mistakes, and many of them will be unfixable.

The second word is for today, and the word is love. There are few things that bring greater contentment than the things we do out of love. Caring for customers, being patient with loved ones, our goal for the present moment and for everything we do in it is love as we consider the scriptures, 'walk in love as Christ loved us and gave himself for us an offering and sacrifice to God' (Ephesians 5:2).

The third word is for tomorrow, the word is providence. This word tells us to leave tomorrow to God. We have no business worrying about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries at its own. While there will always be a thin line between planning and worrying, let's make sure we draw that line and stay on the right side of it.

Mercy for yesterday, love for today, and providence for tomorrow, three words to help us keep it together.

New research on the connection between money and happiness points to something we all know, but just don't want to believe.

The research, done by Nobel winning scientists Dan Kahneman and Angus Deaton, concludes that, sure, if you make $20,000 a year, and then double it to make $40,000, you will likely be significantly happier. However, if you make $150,000 a year, and then double that to make $300,000, the marginal increase in happiness declines significantly; you may be happier, but not that much.

And when we look at the track records of lottery winners and workaholics - people who have a whole lot of money, they don't appear to be that much happier, and in too many cases are actually worse off when their wealth has a corrosive effect on their personalities and lifestyles. In other words, money doesn’t buy happiness.

Unfortunately our knowledge of this truth does little to change our behavior: we continue living lifestyles as if our income did, in fact, affect our contentment. And we see this at play no more clearly than in our Gospel this Sunday.

It's a well-known story about a young man who comes to Jesus and asks how he might obtain eternal life. He claims that he's lived a righteous life, that he's never broken even one of God's commandments. Jesus says, fine, just leave everything and follow me. After the man refuses, Jesus turns to his disciples and says, ‘How hard it is to be rich!' This guy has bought into the deception that seeking money will make him happier than seeking Jesus.

It's one of the lies that Jesus came here to blow up - like losing 10 pounds will make us beautiful, getting another job will bring us permanent contentment, or finally getting that house, boat, car, or vacation will translate into unbounded harmony and fulfillment.

Jesus knows that pursuing the life of altruism, selflessness, and giving is the key to happiness, contentment, and even greatness.

All other pursuits are but cheap imitations.

We free ourselves from lies when we embrace truth.

That’s Jesus.
Let’s follow him.

I've never gone to a movie alone.

Movies, to me, cannot truly be enjoyed unless they're shared. I like to experience emotions with someone else, share the popcorn, discuss the plot, and retell the jokes on the car ride home.

So when I say I appreciate movies, I'm really saying that I appreciate companionship.

I think that's true when we take a moment on Sunday to bless our pets.

After all, pets are all about companionship - and healthy companionship at that.

Studies show that a loving pet reduces blood pressure, heart disease, and stress. Pets improve our moods, keep us out of doctor's offices, and help those with abnormal heart rhythms live longer.

The benefits are particularly acute for those who live alone. A Swedish study found that dog ownership significantly reduced the risk of heart disease and lowered one's overall risk of death.

93% of pet owners said their dog makes them a better person, making them more patient, responsible, and affectionate.

And another poll found that one out of three dog owners prefer their dog to their partner...

The gift of companionship with our blessed creatures is meant to remind us of the gift of companionship with our Almighty Creator. So bring your pet on Sunday at 10:00 a.m. for a blessing, and let us together thank them and the one who gave them to us.

When I ran the Los Angeles Marathon in 1996, I learned of a unique and rather odd tradition.

Because the race started early in the morning, the weather would be in the low 60s, necessitating use of a sweatshirt or light jacket. But after a few miles, bodies would warm up, as did the weather, and we no longer needed the extra clothing. This happened at the point along the race course that took us through a particularly impoverished area of the city.

And so the tradition was to take off your sweatshirt and toss it to one of the cheering fans who, perhaps, could use the discarded garment.

The idea is that we will be able to run the remaining 20 miles or so much faster without having to hold on to our jackets.

Letting go of the things that keep us from running as swiftly as possible is at the heart of the spiritual life. (We will hear Jesus talk more about this on Sunday).

And it invites us to not only consider those things that impede our progress - habits and hobbies, rhythms and routines, that serve as obstacles - but to see that this kind of practical re-ordering is absolutely crucial to living the lives we want to live. Jesus says ‘if your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off! In other words, let nothing, absolutely nothing, impede the progress of our spiritual growth. The detour’s not worth it - the diversion is more costly than we think, the daydreaming must wait for another time. Following Jesus means embracing a sense of urgency and attention - that the problems around us are pleading for us to do something about them now.

How are we ordering our lives so to do?

Here’s a story about two men.

The first is Christopher Columbus, who we all know sailed for India in 1492, grossly miscalculated, and instead hit the Bahamas. Convinced that he was, in fact, in India, he named the people he ran into ‘Indians’ and the new set of islands the East Indies. He, like most all of his contemporaries, thought they knew the world and considered the existence of a completely unknown continent inconceivable, and he wrote about this. Columbus stuck to his error for the rest of his life.

The second man is Amerigo Vespucci. He was an Italian sailor. He took several trips to America soon after Columbus. But he thought, in fact that Columbus had discovered a new continent. Vespucci also wrote about this - and published accounts across Europe and while few were convinced, an influential map maker named Martin Waldseemuller was. So he published a new map showing the new continent. Not knowing that Christopher Columbus had actually discovered it, Waldseemuler named it after Vespucci calling it America.

It makes you wonder if Columbus had been more open minded we might be living in ‘Chrisland’ or something like it.

The truth is that we all have trouble opening our hands to new things because it means letting go of what we’re already holding onto. In fact, when Jesus asks, in this Sunday’s gospel, for the little children to come to him, he’s making a play for such humility among us.

Being close-minded caters to our fears, being open-minded caters to our faith. In what ways are we being asked to take down the walls, check our pride at the door, and be more open to the world around us?

Chris Yaw

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