Holy Innocents

I remember when my young friend John died – in a car wreck.

I remember rushing to the hospital to join his parents and grandparents.

I remember praying the last prayers he’d ever hear.

I remember presiding over the packed funeral - where we all brushed up against the elephant in the room - who was wearing a huge T-shirt that said; ‘Why God?’

Parents aren’t supposed to bury their kids – they’re not supposed to make coffins that small - where’s the justice?  Where’s God?

Every December Christians commemorate the Feast of the Holy Innocents.  It’s based on a Bible story about jealous King Herod.  In an effort to eliminate the newborn baby Jesus, King of the Jews, Herod ordered a mass slaying of all children 2 years old and younger.  It is a story of dubious provenance, yet one that is true regardless of whether or not it ever happened – because every day you and I witness to the same thing – the slaughter of the innocents.

Our world abounds with flagrant and unspeakable injustices – evil tyrants who murder, bosses who cheat, spouses who betray, close family members who insult and backstab.  Our losses drive us to lament like the mothers of the Innocents as quoted by the prophet Jeremiah;

“A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping.  Rachel… refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.”

Our misery consumes us.  There is no daylight.  We wait for the dawn to break –and when it does we wonder:  But are they really ‘no more?’  Might there be a purpose?  Might there be a Presence somehow lingering, preparing, and pointing?

Jeremiah continues “Thus says the LORD: Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears; for there is a reward… they shall come back from the land of the enemy; there is hope for your future.”

My friends, what has been taken shall be restored.  What has been wronged shall be righted.  What has been lost shall be found. 

What are we grieving today?  What stolen innocence is stewing inside of us?  The Lord says we will be restored, things will be made right.  Can we put it in Jesus’ hands?  Can we move toward living as if this were true?  Can we accept His peace – and walk in the confidence that through it all, God is with us?

Reading

God is Not Good - Christopher Hitchens
The Liturgical Year - Joan Chittister
Crush It! - Gary Vaynerchuk

Carmakers know that the driver’s most important view is what’s ahead.  They make sure drivers can see the road clearly - to the side, and even above and below so that the road in front, is most obviously seen.  While the view of what’s passed is important, the view of what’s ahead is the most significant.

On the Fourth Sunday of Advent we hear the story of Joseph as he gets the news that his fiancé, Mary, is pregnant – and not by him.  Joseph has a choice.  The Bible calls him a righteous man, one who knew the well-established laws and traditions of his faith and obeyed them.  So now Joseph can follow the rules he’s known all his life, dismissing or even exposing Mary, opening her up to severe punishment.  Or Joseph can obey an incredible vision that’s opening up right before him.

Should Joseph seek the security of the seasoned faith of his forebearers, which he can see clearly in his rearview mirror – or might Joseph trust what’s unfolding right in front of him – a dream - that God is doing something amazing and new?

Every day you and I meet people and run into situations that we want to quickly categorize and stereotype – we want to judge what’s in front of us through a lens that’s behind us.  We forget that every person, every encounter is new – and has never come across our path in the same way before.  When we look at new things through old lenses we rob them of their distinctions – and we block out what God is trying to say to us – and the world.

Trying to move forward by looking behind us has its obvious difficulties – which is why Advent calls us to lift up our heads – and look, in watchful expectation – to see anew at what’s unfolding before us.  And as tempted as we are to stereotype - and to think that this Christmas will be just like all others – it won’t be.  When we pay attention to every store clerk, slow driver, and unfavorite relative – with the expectation that God has put them in our lives for us to value, respect, and love – we can find gifts more precious than anything that fits under a tree.

So let’s move on toward Christmas with hope and expectation, valuing what’s behind us, but wholly embracing the magic, the mystery, and the wonder that’s before us.

Reading:

God is Not Great – Christopher Hitchens

Made in Detroit – Paul Clemens

Changing the Conversation – Anthony Robinson

I remember getting fired from a job.

I was just out of college, and I worked as a personal assistant for a rather difficult man.  He was gruff, demanding, and could be rather rude.  I didn’t know at the time that he had gone through personal assistants like paper towels – unfortunately not treating them much better.

My naturally naïve and affable demeanor meant that I had gone a few months before actually being offended by my boss.  And the work got harder.  That’s when I unconsciously started to do what most people do.  I pulled back and distanced myself.  I thought I was doing my job – I had certainly continued to do what was expected in the job description.  But I was disconnecting – and before I knew it, I was stunned to find out I was out of a job.

"Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" asked John the Baptist in this Sunday’s Gospel reading.  John had started his ministry, which we heard about last week, calling people to repent.  Entire towns turned out to be baptized.  We remember John’s harsh predictions that the Messiah would chop down trees that don’t produce, and burn away chaff with unquenchable fire.

This is what John was expecting Jesus to do.  But this wasn’t what Jesus was doing.

So cold, hungry and awash in disappointment, we imagine, St. John, as he tried to figure out what went wrong.  How could God have failed him?  You and I, in the comforts of 2,000 years of hindsight, can see the disconnect – we can see where John went, and where Jesus was going.  And we know well from personal experience – when God fails to meet our expectations, perhaps its time to ask ourselves how well aligned we are with God.

Are we looking for a God who will do what we want and not what God wants?  How do we open ourselves up to the Lord in a way that doesn’t surprise or disappoint us?  Easy, we get on board with God’s program.  So how can we use this Advent season to do that?

Reading

God is not Great – Christopher Hitchens

Radial – David Platt

God is Back – Mickelthwait and Woldridge

One of the ironies of the Christian faith is that the One who was born in a manger, claimed no earthly wealth or position, and died a criminal’s death, is frequently known by a title He neither requested, sought, nor claimed: King of Kings.

This Sunday Christians around the world will commemorate the various ways Christ’s Lordship is remembered, as King of Israel, (John 1:49), King of the Jews (Mt. 27:11), King of Ages (1 Tim 6:15), and King Eternal (1 Tim 1:17).  Formalized by the Pope in 1925, as the Church’s reminder to earthly rulers of the Lord’s preeminence, this Sunday, Christ the King Sunday, reminds us of the ways God desires to rule in our lives today.

And despite the continued success of Christianity, which has been described as the largest, most vibrant faith in the world and is expected to continue growing, we are wise to point out that the reason behind the royal title is not wealth, power, bragging rights, or the prospect of world domination: but just the opposite, Christianity flourishes as it bows its knee in service. Christ is King because Christ loves, sacrifices, and gives all of himself for the sake of the world.

This week, in rainy West Cornwall, Connecticut, a conference with Episcopal clergy, played host to a renowned theologian, who reminded us of the preeminence of this love and sacrifice.  Yale University’s Miroslav Volf says the most powerful way to preach Christianity is not by well-worded arguments, but by generous living.  The kingship of Christ is found in the ways His followers imitate Jesus by giving freely of themselves.  Christians live out this kingship when they decide not to pursue the love of pleasure, but to seek the pleasure of love.

Not long ago a group of people was given $50 to spend on themselves, a second group was given $50 to spend on others.  Researchers measured their satisfaction and found those who shopped for others came out happier.  We’re not surprised that when we give, when we sacrifice, we are better off, we are happier, we become more of who we were created to be: heirs of a king, who is high and lifted up, only after coming low and bowing down.  May we seek out and find ways that we can do the same.

Reading

The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work - Alain de Botton

God is Back - John Micklethwait, Adrian Wooldridg

One of the more inspiring movements that’s been sparked by current events surrounding teen suicide and bullying has been the ‘It Gets Better Project’ – a venture that features short videos by famous and not so famous people who struggled with their gender identity (www.itgetsbetterproject.com) and want to encourage vulnerable young people who are hurting.

Many of these confessional video biographies are highly emotional as they recount stories of persecution, harassment, suicide attempts, confrontations with family members, and deep, dark depression.  However, the message is clear, that despite the torment of the student years - there is a light at the end of the tunnel, life is worth living, it gets better.

Jesus often talked about persecution and harassment – like in this week’s Gospel reading from Luke 21.  Jesus warned those who followed Him that a big part of the journey involved going against the grain, being singled out, and persecuted.  We here in the comfy and civilized West, can have a hard time relating to these stories – as the only times we hear about serious religious persecution seem to come from far away places.

While it’s encouraging to think that modern society has evolved to a place of civil, religious tolerance – we can’t help but ponder the criticism Jesus’ words inspire: that the problem with Christianity today is that no one wants to persecute us.  Standing up for the oppressed, the hurting, the starving, the marginalized – confronting economic systems and powers that make more people poor than rich, favor those who have enough, and take away from those who have too little – is controversial, unpopular, and uncomfortable stuff.

But if those who follow Jesus make their central goal avoiding persecution, can’t we also ask ourselves: how well are we really following Jesus?

In what ways are we being called to go against the grain, confront the powers that marginalize, stand up to bullies, and endure for the sake of what’s right – the cross?  Jesus never said that following Him would be easy – but just the opposite - He promised us pain and heartache, when we do it right.  But He also promised He would be with us, He would help us, and that we should never, ever forget, that the persecution doesn’t last forever - it gets better.

Reading

The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work – Alaine de Botton

Changing the Conversation – Anthony B. Robinson

Strength for the Journey – Peter Gomes

After buying tickets months in advance, getting to the show early, then waiting in line for half an hour to get in – that cringe of angst comes over us when the usher says, ‘Tickets please’ – and we suddenly remember that we left them on the dresser.  We can’t get in.  The drive home and back is too long. And there we are, stuck outside the doors we’d planned on being on the other side of - for months.

That’s how the most famous words of Jesus, the Beatitudes, often leave me.  When I hear them, ‘Blessed are the poor, for yours is the Kingdom, Blessed are the hungry, for you will be filled,’ etc., I can’t help but think that they don’t fit - what’s needed to get in, I just don’t have – and it’s much too late for me to acquire it.

Many Western Christians feel this guilt, shame, and remorse – even though most of our circumstances were and are dictated by factors beyond our control.  We beat ourselves up for not suffering more - for not being, poor, sorrowful, meek, and humble.  Or we simply avoid thinking about it figuring that if we just live the best lives we can, we’ll be OK.  We tend to take these harsh words as prescriptive of what we need to do to be God’s blessed people – but perhaps what we should be doing is looking at these words as descriptive instead: the Beatitudes tell us who God is and what heaven’s like.  Both are accepting and comforting of those most in need – neither forgetting nor abandoning anyone at the end of life’s rope.  Also, both are condemning, in the harshest of terms, of the hoarding, self-centered and uncharitable.

If they’re descriptive at all, the Beatitudes reinforce Jesus’ main understanding of who Christians are: Those who trust their lives and well being to loving and serving God and others over the long haul – as opposed to resting their hopes in the self-interested and short-lived gains of the present world.  One of modern Christendom’s biggest challenges is getting over the guilt - of privilege, prosperity, and affluence - and getting on with the work we’re called to do.  It’s about seeing the big picture.  It’s about getting our minds on heaven.  How might we put aside the guilt and embrace the call to follow Christ more sincerely and completely?

Reading

The Joys and Sorrows of Work – Alain de Botton

Radical – David Platt

Strength for the Journey – Peter Gomes

What’s holding us back?

What’s keeping us from moving?

What’s preventing us from discovering, reaching beyond, and breaking out?

There’s that flash of light.

It’s got our attention, even for a moment.

But it’s only a flash in the middle of the day - so quickly washed away and enveloped in the brighter lights that surround us.

So must it have been for Zacchaeus - that flash of light came to him.

But he did not let it go.

He would not let it go.

He dropped everything to move toward that light, and allow it to envelop him.

So Zacchaeus hurried up a tree.

He hurried down a tree.

He gave half his money to the poor.

He paid back the people he’d ripped off.

Jesus said salvation had come to his house.

Jesus had sent His light - and Zacchaeus let nothing in the world prevent him from finding it.

Jesus is still sending His light.

Every now and then it gets our attention.

It’s a flash in the middle of the day - that can be so quickly washed away.

But its desire is to be so much more.

It wants to envelop us – to fill us so completely with all the things for which we most deeply yearn.

It wants to make all the other lights around us become darkness.

What’s holding us back?

What’s keeping us from moving?

What’s preventing us from discovering, reaching beyond, and breaking out?

Reading:

Reimagining Detroit - John Gallagher

Unbinding the Gospel - Reese

God is Not Great - Hitchens