December 24, 2009

In New York City,
Riverside Church is a famous and glorious institution,
an interdenominational church that seats 2100 people at a time,
three times the size of this Cathedral.
As you might expect, on Christmas Eve
every single seat was filled for the children’s Christmas pageant,
a glorious affair that includes children from many
nations, races and cultures. 
On this particular night the role of the innkeeper,
the one who tells Mary and Joseph
that there is no room for them at the inn,
was given to Tim, a ten year old boy with Down’s Syndrome.
But it was thought that he could handle the one line:
“There is no room at the inn.”
His teachers and parents
helped Tim rehearse for weeks and weeks,
and he knew the line and his cue, and where to stand.
Being Riverside church,
the girl playing Mary was riding a real donkey,
and her Joseph led her right up to the inn, knocked on the door,
and under the glare of TV lights,
accompanied by a full orchestra
and the rapt attention of 2100 people,
Tim said his line perfectly.
The congregation was beaming,
and his parents relaxed
as Joseph turned the donkey around
to lead Mary down the great center aisle of the Church
and everyone was transported in their imagination
to that first desperate Christmas night,
when the world had no room for Jesus.
The sadness of that moment was even grasped by Tim.
“Wait….” He shouted down the aisle
to a now confused Mary and Joseph.
“Wait, you can stay at my house.”

That is the Christmas faith in a nutshell is it not?
Jesus is welcome to stay in our house, in our lives.
Our world is still a place that does not make room for Jesus.
There is room only for greed, ambition and power.
If people are hungry, if they are without a home,
Without fresh air to breathe or clean water to drink,
If there are those without healthcare or a job,
Or a decent school for their children,
if there are those without friends or family
Or places where people cannot worship
as they feel called in conscience to worship,
That is just the collateral damage of realism
in a competitive world where there is simply
no room for Jesus.
But there was room in Tim’s house
Because there was room in his heart.
And tonight, at least for tonight,
there is enough room in our heart
for us to make room for Jesus in our house and in our lives.

Bethlehem means “House of Bread.”
In a few moments, Jesus born in Bethlehem 2009 years ago
Will make his home in the bread and wine on this altar.
And we will come to communion
And receiving him, we will make room for him in our lives.
The rest of the world may have no room for him,
But at least for tonight, we are not the rest of the world.
Tonight we have room.
Sisters and brothers, our prayer tonight is very simple,
Let us ask God to give us the strength, courage and discipline
to make room for Jesus-to make room for love
in our heart and in our home all the year long.
In a few minutes,
after you receive communion and go back to your place
Kneel down, close your eyes, and in that secret place
Where you talk to God, say this:
“Wait…You can stay at my house.”
Amen.

December 23, 2009

Come Lord Jesus, do not delay; give courage to your people who trust in your love. By your coming, raise us to the joy of your kingdom, where you live forever and ever. Amen.

December 20, 2009

Christmas, the central celebration of our calendar and faith
Happens this week and there is not much time left
For waiting, anticipating or planning.
How many more words of inspiration
can you need or want at this point?
Nevertheless, the scriptures have some for you.
They come in the exchange between Elizabeth and Mary.
Elizabeth is an elderly woman, miraculously pregnant
Six months pregnant in fact.
Elderly, uncomfortable and very pregnant
Elizabeth hears she is to be visited by her 13-14 year old cousin,
who is also pregnant, miraculously, she insists.
She is coming to visit Elizabeth for three months.
This is just what every elderly pregnant woman wants:
A three month visit from a pregnant 13 year old relative.
Can’t you just imagine the “Yippie”
Elizabeth shouts when she hears about this visit?
However, Elizabeth, is not an ordinary woman,
Nor is Mary an ordinary visitor,
And theirs are not ordinary pregnancies.
These are women who believe that God is active in their lives;
Women who believe God is part of ordinary life, ordinary events,
Like birth, like death.

“Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me”

This is how Elizabeth welcomes her house guest:
As someone who carries within her womb
the presence of her Lord.
Christmas is a time for visitors and visiting.
Sometimes we visit, sometimes we are visited.
Some visitors we see only at Christmas
For which we are very grateful.
We only invited them because we thought they wouldn’t come.
Some visitors are a sight for sore eyes, the life of the party,
Uncles and Aunts who like Drosselmeyer of the Nutcracker
Who make the most amazing things happen.
Some are the children and grandchildren
for whom we have been waiting
with more anticipation than we have for Christmas itself.
Some visitors are unexpected, surprisingly helpful,
Some, end up as in-laws.
Sometimes we are the visitors.
Visiting is a skill,
Knowing what to say and what not to say,
Taking care to talk neither too little
and certainly not talking too much;
Knowing where to sit, what place at table is yours
and which is already claimed;
How to be comfortable but not intrude;
Observing with interest but never criticizing
The bizarre local customs of the house.
Sometimes we visitors are constantly thinking of just how soon
we can politely make our escape;
and sometimes we are so much more
loved, appreciated, happy
where we visit than we are at home
we cannot bear to head for the door.
Overstaying our welcome seems a less grievous sin
Than returning to the dark place where we belong.
Sometimes visitors and visiting are only Christmas memories:
Events from the past that cannot be repeated in the present.
We can no longer go and others no longer come,
But we remember it all,
Sometimes fondly, sometimes with sadness.

“Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me”
Rejoices Elizabeth.
Who am I that my Lord comes to me in another?
Who am I to bring the Lord to others?
Who are we?
We are not ordinary people either.
We are people like Mary and Elizabeth
People who believe that God is active in life, in our lives.
We are people who believe
That the word spoken to us by the Lord would be fulfilled.
People who believe
that since God has already come in Jesus’ flesh.
God can now come in our flesh.
We are people who believe
That it is our mission to give birth to the presence of God;
Our mission is to bring God to all those we visit;
Our mission to welcome God’s presence in all who visit us.
Throughout this week
and through all the twelve days of Christmas
you will visit, or be visited
or remember visits long passed.
In all that coming and the going this week
And in all the longing and memories of visits long ago,
I can only promise you this: Christ will be there.
Christ will be there for us to bring, and for us to receive.
Even in the absence of people to visit or people to visit us
Christ will visit us in our hearts.
The last Advent message
The last words of inspiration
The last words of encouragement we receive this year
Come from old Elizabeth:
“Blessed are you who believe
that the word spoken to you by God will be fulfilled!”
Amen.

December 18, 2009

Father, Creator and Redeemer of humankind, You decreed and your Word became flesh, born of the Virgin Mary. May we come to share the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share our human nature. Amen.

This simple prayer captures the transforming nature of Christmas: the infinite Almighty God becoming one of us; and we, through faith, becoming Christ. Christmas, when all is said and done, changes us.

December 15, 2009

Remember the old Normal Rockwell painting of Santa checking out who is naughty and who is nice? It seems to capture that portion of the Advent season that is devoted to cleaning up our own act so that we can celebrate the coming of the Lord with a renewed spirit.

There is a section from the Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis, which offers some practical advice for christians so we can be on the nice and not naughty side of the Christmas ledger:

"Do not care much who is with you and who is against you; but make it your greatest care that God is with you in everything you do.

Have a good conscience, and God will defend you securely; no one can hurt you if God wishes to help you.

It is often good for us, and helps us remain humble if others know our weaknesses and confront us with them.

When a man humble shimself for his faults, he more easily pleases and mollifies those he has angered.

Above all keep peace with yourself, then you will be able to create peace among others. It is better to be peaceful than learned.

The passionate man often thinks evil of a good man and easily believes the worst; a good and peaceful man turns all things to good.

A man who lives at peace suspects no one. But a man who is tense and aggitated by evil is troubled with all kinds of suspicions; he is never at peace with himself, nor does he permit himself to be at peace.

He often speaks when he should be silent, and he fails to say what would be truly useful. He is well aware of the obligations of others, but neglects his own.

You are good at excusing and justifying your own deeds, and yet you wil not listen to the excuses of others. It would be more just to accuse yourself and to excuse a brother.

If you wish others to put up with you, first put up with them."

December 13, 2009

This week has been a week of constant snow, so much that it has not even been funny. I have had three presentations cancelled due to the weather and a number of appointments, so I am but behind on everything, including blogging.

I am a big NYTimes reader, and today's paper had a picture that riveted me and altered today's homily. It was the picture of a young widow hugging the tombstone of her husband, lost in combat in Afghanistan. This is not the picture, but it gives you an idea. The homily follows.

December 13, 2009

This morning’s New York Times tells the story
of 15,000 Christmas wreaths, a heartwarming seasonal story
 if they were not all laid at Arlington National Cemetery.
What drew my attention was the picture of a young widow,
Sarah Walton, kneeling on the ground,
hugging, clutching her husband’s tombstone.
He was killed in the service of his country, in Afghanistan.

It will be a different sort of Christmas for Sarah Walton,
and for many like her for whom this will be the first Christmas without a beloved husband, wife, mother, father, child. 
For many this will be the first Christmas since a divorce.
For many the house so merrily decorated last year
has been lost in foreclosure.
For many this will be the first,
or second or third Christmas without a job.
For many in hospital, hospice, or nursing home,
this will be the last Christmas. 
And many more of us than we can imagine
will spend this Christmas alone,
with no one to give us gifts, and no one to give to.
2.3 million Americans will spend this Christmas in prison.
It is a letter from prison we read today.
The prisoner is Paul the Apostle,
the addressee, his friends at the church at Phillipi,
and although he did not know it when he wrote it, you and me.  He writes:

Rejoice in the Lord always.
I shall say it again:  rejoice!
Your kindness should be known to all.
The Lord is near.
Have no anxiety at all, but in everything,
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,
make your requests known to God.
Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding
will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Rejoice? Rejoice how?
How should Sarah Walton rejoice,
or any of the others for whom a Merry Christmas is contradicted by the circumstances of life? 
What is there to rejoice in?
Paul is in prison, he is not delusional, he is not a fool,
he is not a suicide bomber who longs for death
or delights in suffering.
From the tone of his letter he deeply misses his friends at Phillipi. He is in prison and does not know
if he will ever see the light of day again. 
He does not rejoice in his circumstances,
he says rejoice in the Lord…I shall say it again rejoice! 

Here is an invitation
to a level of meaning deeper than the place we usually live.
For most often you and I rejoice as the result
of happy circumstances.
We rejoice when we win,
when we have fun,
when we are favored,
when we are rich in family and friends.
We rejoice because blessings abound.
This is not the rejoicing that an imprisoned Paul speaks about. 
Gaudete he says, rejoice,
not because of the how and when and where you find yourselves, rejoice in the Lord.
Rejoice in the Lord whose love is with you
in prison, in hospital, in heartbreak, in debt, and when alone. Rejoice, because there is no where you can be,
and nothing that can be done to you
that can stop God from loving you.

This is a deeper level of meaning,
a deeper of level of existence because
it is not dependent on our exterior circumstances,
nor on our own internal state of happiness.
It depends entirely on the reality of faith;
a faith that has the daring to say
that Almighty God was born on a cold dark night,
born to a young couple whose relationship
was anything but ordinary;
a couple that was homeless
and would, when all the stars and angels and shepherd vanished, become refugees and then immigrants.
If you believe that the Christmas story is real,
that God actually came to the worst of places,
in the worst of circumstances two thousand and nine years ago, then why cannot God still be here now,
right in the midst of the in the worst of circumstances we face?

God is either Emmanuel, God with us,
God with Sarah Walton,
God with those who grieve,
God with those who are alone and unloved,
God with those in debt,
God with those unemployed,
God with those lost,
God with those homeless,
God with those sick and dying,
God with those alone,
God with those depressed,
God is either with all of these people, with all of us,
or there is no God, no Christmas at all.

As I said, sisters and brothers
this is a deeper level of meaning than we usually live in.
It is not possible without
a radical act of faith in the love that is God.
It is the radical act of faith that Mary had to make,
and Joseph had to make,
and the shepherds and magi had to make.
It is the radical act of faith Christmas demands of us.
How do we find this world of faith and live in it?
Again Paul tells us: “let your kindness to known to all.” 
We should be famous for simple kindness.
Not kindness that comes from the overflow of my emotions,
but kindness that is drawn by the needs of others,
whether I like them or not,
because as Paul says, the Lord is near.

Secondly, do not be anxious, replace anxiety with prayer:
prayer that ask for what we need,
prayer that rests our weary heart in God,
prayer in which giving thanks to God is our gift.
No matter how this Christmas finds us, Paul tells us
to let it find us rejoicing in the Lord,
whose peace is beyond all understanding. 
This Christmas, let that be the peace
that guards our heart and our mind,
the peace that comes from knowing
that no matter our circumstances
the Lord is near. Amen.

December 08,2009

Fopr those of you interested in how my homily finally turned out for last week, here it is:

Second Sunday of Advent:

“In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar,
when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea,
and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip
tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis,
and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene,
during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas,
the word of God came
to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.”

So begins the words of today’s gospel,
words that today might be written this way:

In the second year of the presidency of Barak Obama,
when Gordon Brown was prime minster of Great Britain,
Stephen Harper Prime Minster of Canada,
Hu Jintao the President of China,
Yukio Hatoyama, prime minister of Japan,
Manmohan Singh  the prime minister of India,
Vladamir Putin the Prime Minster of the Russian Federation
and Jennifer Granholm, the governor of Michigan,
the world of God came to Western Michigan,
to a man, a woman, a child named……
and here, write your own name.

This is how God worked then and this is how God works now.
There were a number of illustrious names,
names of people with power, might and responsibility,
people to whom God should have been talking
if he wanted things to get done.
But God ignored Caesar himself,
and all centers of power and influence, celebrity and notoriety,
 and instead went to a deserted place,
and spoke to an unknown person.
God’s word worked in the life of that strange man
we remember as John the Baptist,
worked in his life to make Jesus known.
God still speaks, in the very same way, to very strange people
in places nowhere near the center of power,
and through them makes Jesus known. 

In this case, the very strange people are you and me. 
From the moment of our Baptism,
an event many of us no longer remember,
God’s Word, God’s Holy Spirit, God’s very self
has made a home within you and me,
people who are in truth quite as unlikely as John the Baptist,
and in our own ways, quite as strange,
and has asked us to be part of the divine plan
of making Jesus known to the world.

But we have been asked to go one better than the Baptist,
for we are not asked to spread information about Jesus,
we are asked to bring Jesus himself
to the world of Tiberius Caesar.
The communion we share today is communion with him,
and we have his very life, his flesh and his blood in us,
and we bring him to the world in us:
for we are now part of his church, his body,
risen and alive in the world.
Let me say it one more time:
people do want to hear about Jesus from us,
they want to experience Jesus in us,
and then learn from us how they can have his life in them too.

I am struck by the words of St. Paul in the second reading:

"I am confident of this,
that the one who began a good work in you
will continue to complete it." 

Just think about that:
we are the good work that God has begun in Christ Jesus;
you and me, and all of us together as the church. 
We are the work of God. 
Think of that for a moment,
the work of God is within us, in a way entirely unique to us. 
Now ask yourself this question:
What is that good work that God has begun in you?
Do you yourself see it,
do you recognize what God is doing in you for the world.
If you do not know, do not worry.
I am not sure many of us do.
We are very aware of what we would like to do in the world,
of how we think other people should change,
and what work they should do. 
We would not mind, just for a day or so,
being Tiberius Caesar,
or Governor of this, or tetrarch of that,
or prime minister and president of our own personal world. 
But the word of God did not come to them;
the world of God came to the desert, to a man named John,
to the person with the name with which we were baptized.

I am confident of this, St. Paul says,
the one who began a good work in you
will continue to complete it. 
God is at work in me, in you, in all of us.
It is a mystical thought that, God at work in me.
I always think I am the one in charge,
the one in control, the one who makes all the decisions.
While it is true that the choices are always mine,
God never interferes with free will,
much of the inspiration belongs to God. 
The word of God has come to me,
the Word of God is whispering in my heart. 
How patient God has to be with me,
waiting, waiting, waiting for me
to have the courage to cooperate
with the good thing God is trying to do within me.

Advent is often described as a time when we wait for God,
as we wait for fireworks to begin.
But perhaps Advent is a time when God is waiting for us.
Waiting for us to trust the love God has spoken into our Hearts.
 God is waiting for us to trust that we are strong enough
to bring love and not selfishness into the world. 
God is waiting for us to be confident enough in our own hearts
 that we are willing to share the best of us
with those who are the worst of us in the world. 
God is waiting for us to allow
God’s life to be born into our world through our life.

This Advent season God is waiting for us.
And God will keep waiting,
waiting for us to give God the chance
to complete the good work God began
when he first fashioned us in the womb.
Like Paul, I am confident of this, and so should you be:
Confident, of God at work in you. Amen. 

December 4, 2009

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow....our first snowfall of the winter is today, and it is quite a sight. That big thick snow that sticks to trees and cancels school, and so gives me time to blog.

Back to my homily, a work still in progress. I was attending a beautiful ecumenical evening prayer service at Bethlehem Lutheran Church on Wednesday evening, and was thinking about the words from Phillipians: the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it. The one obviously is God, God is at work in me, in you, in all of us. It is a mystical thought that, God at work in me. I always think I am the one in charge, the one in control, the one who makes all the decisions. While it is true that the choices are always mine, God never interferes with free will, much of the inspiration belongs to God. How patient God has to be with me, waiting waiting wating for me to have the courage to cooperate with the good thing God is trying to do within me. Advent is often described as a time when we wait for God, as if we were waiting for fireworks to begin. But perhaps Advent is a time when God is waiting for us.

December 2, 2009

I have been thinking about my sermon for this coming Sunday, and the reading that is drawing my attention is the second reading, from Paul's letter to the Phillipians. here is a sneak peek::

"Brothers and sisters:
I pray always with joy in my every prayer for all of you,
because of your partnership for the gospel
from the first day until now.
I am confident of this,
that the one who began a good work in you
will continue to complete it
until the day of Christ Jesus.
God is my witness,
how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.
And this is my prayer:
that your love may increase ever more and more
in knowledge and every kind of perception,
to discern what is of value,
so that you may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ,
filled with the fruit of righteousness
that comes through Jesus Christ
for the glory and praise of God.

This is the phrase that jumps out at me:"I am confident of this,
that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus."

We are the good work that God has begun in Christ Jesus. You and me, and all of us together. We are the work of God. Think of that for a moment, the work of God is within us, in a way entirely unique to us. What is that good work that God has begun in you?

Pope Benedict XVI, in a recent meeting with artists, spoke to them about the good work that God has begun in artists. He said, "You are the custodians of beauty: thanks to your talent, you have the opportunity to speak to the heart of humanity, to touch individual and collective sensibilities, to call forth dreams and hopes, to broaden the horizons of knowledge and of human engagement. Be grateful, then, for the gifts you have received and be fully conscious of your great responsibility to communicate beauty, to communicate in and through beauty!"

My point, actually St. Paul's point is this: in this advent season we need to be aware of the good work God has begun in us, and then perhaps to be aware of how God is trying to bring that work to completion, fulfillment a cresendo, our lives. God is working in you!

Tommorow I'll spend some time thinking about the role my own free will plays in God's work in me.

December 1, 2009

So who cares about Advent anyway? I mean who has the time for deliberate reflection, for quiet anticipation, for searching into the depths of our soul to discover what we really think is important? We have shopping to do, cards to send out, parties to attend, travel plans to make, presents to wrap and shelp out, houses to decorate, and on and on the list goes.

And if we are one of the millions who the economy has hit hard, well, we aren't able to do all those things this year and that does not feel very good at all and who wants to pay attention to that?

The busier we are, the lesss we feel like Advent, the more we actually need it. We need it because Advent redirects our attention, away from all we have to do-and aal we cannot do; it redirects our attention to what God is doing for us, and what God is doing is joining us on our journey. In jesus God has joined himself to the human experience, our experience. Whether we know it or not, whether we recognize it or not, God is with us, coming to us every day.

Advent is a time to pause, and pay attention to the light that God is bringing to our darkness. Where is that light for you?