What a whirlwind for everyone at St. Paul's. From Lessons and Carols to the Christmas morning service, we had a lot of things happening at the Cathedral this past week. Kudos to the acolytes, chalice bearers, choirs and pageant participants.
Below is my Christmas morning sermon:
"An extraordinary ordinary event"
My favorite Christmas book is called The Nativity-- Some of you may have seen it—a children’s book it’s best known for Julie Vivas’ whimsical illustrations. One of my favorite drawings is of the Annunciation. The angel Gabriel is wearing combat boots and he and Mary are having tea at the kitchen table. Another fun illustration shows Mary and Joseph leaning against a rock, looking exhausted and thrilled in what appears to be moments after Jesus’ birth. I just love the normality of the book---the Holy Family in regular poses, as regular people, enjoying a perfectly ordinary event…the birth of a child. Children are born everyday and most of these births go off without a hitch. Of course many others do not go so routinely but by and large the miracle of birth comes to many in a very regular way. In so many ways, so did Jesus’ birth. We don’t hear much about the normal parts, the labor pains, the anticipation, the fear and excitement of first time parents, the indescribable joy of Mary and Joseph when they first see their son, the instant love they have for this little fragile human being. But it surely was all there---I mean to really embrace our incarnational faith—our belief that God took on human form—we must believe that this birth, while special in so many ways was, like most other births, ordinary. Because all births both the seemingly ordinary and the extraordinary are special. Ask the most hardened of birth experts-- any biologist, fertility specialist, obstetrician, midwife or maternity nurse---each and every birth no matter how routine, how normal how run-of the mill is unique-- miraculous. Because every birth represents the depth of God’s genius, the reach of God’s creativity and the breadth of our awe at being a part of this wonderful creation. Every birth is a joyous and brilliant event. ..and when a baby is born, everyone wants to hear about it-- is it a boy or girl? How much does he weigh, how long is she? It is a great event and we want to announce it right away….and this birth, this birth of God made man wasn’t any different. God wanted to let the world know. And boy, what a birth announcement it was!
Across the fields of Judea, some shepherds are blinded by the brilliant light of heavenly hosts, a band of angels who have come to tell them the good news of this birth in a barn in Bethlehem. This is where the story of an ordinary birth of this extraordinary baby to willing able and blessed servants takes a turn toward amazing. And awe-inspiring.
No doubt just as Mary and Joseph were getting their bearings, Jesus had been fed, Mary had rested and they were ready to gather their things and head back home, the shepherds arrived. Suddenly the angelic visits to Mary, the dreams of Joseph and the predictions of Elizabeth all start to coalesce. These weren’t fantasies, these weren’t hallucinations, this wasn’t craziness-----this baby, this Jesus, was someone like none before or ever after. This baby, brought to Mary through the Holy Spirit, entrusted to Joseph by God and born like any other baby, was not like anyone else. The birth Jesus shows us the immense power of God—a huge lesson for each and every Christian—and it is easy to get caught up in all the fanfare of the miracle…but we must be reminded, much as Julie Vivas’ teaches us with her simple book of the Naticity, that God is with us always and everywhere---even in the most mundane, the most ordinary of daily events. This is the gift of the incarnation--God is here, and there, and everywhere. We are here and so is God. This simple point, made manifest in that barn, renders life as we know it, changed, forever.
That, to me, is the miracle of this blessed morning. An ordinary event encased in an extraordinary truth: God is here. God is among us. God has brought us His son to be with us…not because we were bad, not because we were worthless, not because we were out of chances. No God came to dwell among us in the flesh to remind us, to teach us, to show us that God is and always will be, right here, right now. In the ordinary things of life, not just the extraordinary.
Yes God is here among us in this beautiful Cathedral on this extraordinary of days with wondrous music, fabulous liturgies and families joined after many months, years or maybe decades apart. And yes, God is among us at those moments of great sadness and loss, when a loved one dies and we gather to say good-bye. And yes, God is with us in the breathtaking sunsets, fall colors, spring blooming and winter peacefulness of fresh fallen snow. But and here is the point of this extraordinary story of an ordinary event—the Christmas story---God is also with us at the grocery store, at work, and in the dreary rainy days which fill our lives.
God is always with us, our job isn’t to find God, our job is to realize that in the midst of all things, God is there….in our best times, in our worst times and most importantly I think, in our most mundane times. Maybe Mary and Joseph were clean and fresh and angelic looking right after Jesus; birth. Or maybe they were sweaty, exhausted, dirty and wide-eyed. I don’t know, but I do know that in their utter humanness, in their utter faithfulness, in their utter willingness, God chose to make an ordinary event an extraordinary gift for all of humankind---a reminder that Emmanuel, God is with us, (Matthew 1:23) has been brought to dwell among us, not because we earned it, not because we deserved it, not because God wanted to teach us a lesson. No God is with is because he so loves us, he just can’t stay away.
So Merry Christmas to you all and may you always remember: Emmanuel, God is With Us.
Amen
Friday, December 26, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The Light Increases
Today's sermon, St. Paul's Cathedral, Buffalo, NY
The spotlight can be seductive.
After my oldest nephew was born my family spent an inordinate amount of time just watching him on the floor. Being a somewhat smart-alecky teenager at the time, I remarked, “what in the world did we do before we had him?” As if to say, really folks is this how we are going to spend our time, watching a baby? Of course we all do this, a baby draws us, we are attracted by their newness, their innocence, the shear miracle of conception, gestation and birth. We can spend a lot of time in awestruck wonder, watching this little human. And this is perfect for the baby because she learns about the world through us. In her world, she is the center and all that exists exists within her field of vision and touch. So with our undivided attention her belief that she is the center of the universe is repeatedly reinforced. A baby is, by her very nature, ego-centric. There is a certain sadness when a child learns that they aren’t actually the center of the universe. Of course there is also sadness…and annoyance…. when a child never accepts that they aren’t the center of the universe. And we all know adults for whom this revelation remains elusive. We all know ego maniacs, we all know people who seek the spotlight, who hunger for power and rejoice in being the top, the number one.
Our society actually encourages ego-centric behavior. It is as if American culture is developmentally still a toddler.
The spotlight is seductive and it takes a rather mature and restrained person to resist that seduction.
Now I don’t know about you, but I have never thought of John the Baptist as mature and restrained. But upon reflection I realize that in today’s Gospel this is exactly what
he was exhibiting---mature restraint. He was being proclaimed a prophet and thought by many to be the messiah. He had the ear of the rich and powerful, he could have taken that attention, that spotlight, and kept it all for himself. Yet he didn’t. When pushed to tell the authorities who he was, John demurred. He wouldn’t talk about who he was-- proclaiming instead who he wasn’t. “I am not the messiah” “I am not.” “ No. “What do you have to say for yourself John?” And even when he finally answers them, he uses the words of Isaiah not his own. He doesn’t toot his own horn, he steps out of the spotlight—to prepare the spotlight for the actual Messiah, the true and full light of the world. John dims so that Jesus will fully shine. He decreases so the Light of the World can increase.
The Gospel of John is full of this light imagery. For the evangelist darkness is the enemy of light and the coming of Jesus Christ is the ultimate defeat of all powers of darkness. The shining light vs. the encroaching darkness. These Advent readings of Jesus and John the Baptist , come during a time of great darkness---December brings us the shortest of our days. Daylight is in short supply leading up to the winter solstice, but there is hope amidst the dreariness, for with the passing of the winter solstice our days actually begin to lengthen…the light begins to win out over the darkness. [many thanks to Fr. Paul Lillie for the insight into the relationship between the solstices and the nativity dates]
While the arrival of the Christ comes amidst a darkness which is beginning to wane, in an interesting juxtaposition, the Nativity of John the Baptist is celebrated in June, just a few days after the summer solstice, or the day our daylight begins its slow trek downward….when the long brightness of summer daylight begins to wane.
John and Jesus are inextricably linked with light. From his leaping in Elizabeth’s womb at Mary’s visitation, the role of John the Baptist is as a witness to the light and just as the daylight lessens leading up to the darkest and coldest December day John decreases leaving the spotlight for the true Light of the World, Jesus the Christ. A Light which to be fully experienced, must be shared. Our role as we witness the coming of the Messiah, the Light of the world is to share this light---to invite others into the warming rays of salvation. Yes, to fully experience the true light of the world, we must give it away.
. John the Baptist teaches us a hard lesson today—a counter cultural message of voluntarily stepping aside, of humility. A counter cultural message of minimalism decreasing so that others may increase. A counter cultural message of staying true to a vision, regardless of the seductions in one’s path. My nephew did not grow up to be an egomaniac. He learned that he was not the center of the universe, he learned that the spotlight was not for him, he learned that he was part of a much greater whole whose task it is to be a witness to the true light of the world.
It’s a tough transition to make—to realize you are not the center of the universe….but generally we all make that transition and assume our supporting role in the greater whole.
We don’t quit and say “hey if we can’t be the star then forget it, we won’t play..” No, we learn to find our place in the greater community and fulfill our role in that community the best we can. This is what John is teaching us today---yes he needed to step aside so that the light of the world, Jesus Christ, could shine without cloud or blemish---but he did not disappear, he did not quit. He continued to witness to the light, all the way to his death.
To be a Christian Community we cannot hog the spotlight proclaiming to the world like so many of the fallen from grace tv evangelists that we ourselves are the way and the truth--but we also cannot sit passively by just wondering at the miracle and blessing of it all. As a Christian community we must witness this light. As a community we must determine our roles within that witness and then fulfill those roles to the best of our ability. As witnesses to the miracle in a barn in Bethlehem and as witnesses to the miracle of the empty tomb we must prayerfully discern how best to proclaim the gifts God so graciously bestows upon us, not to glorify ourselves, but to glorify the Light of the World.
Amen.
The spotlight can be seductive.
After my oldest nephew was born my family spent an inordinate amount of time just watching him on the floor. Being a somewhat smart-alecky teenager at the time, I remarked, “what in the world did we do before we had him?” As if to say, really folks is this how we are going to spend our time, watching a baby? Of course we all do this, a baby draws us, we are attracted by their newness, their innocence, the shear miracle of conception, gestation and birth. We can spend a lot of time in awestruck wonder, watching this little human. And this is perfect for the baby because she learns about the world through us. In her world, she is the center and all that exists exists within her field of vision and touch. So with our undivided attention her belief that she is the center of the universe is repeatedly reinforced. A baby is, by her very nature, ego-centric. There is a certain sadness when a child learns that they aren’t actually the center of the universe. Of course there is also sadness…and annoyance…. when a child never accepts that they aren’t the center of the universe. And we all know adults for whom this revelation remains elusive. We all know ego maniacs, we all know people who seek the spotlight, who hunger for power and rejoice in being the top, the number one.
Our society actually encourages ego-centric behavior. It is as if American culture is developmentally still a toddler.
The spotlight is seductive and it takes a rather mature and restrained person to resist that seduction.
Now I don’t know about you, but I have never thought of John the Baptist as mature and restrained. But upon reflection I realize that in today’s Gospel this is exactly what
he was exhibiting---mature restraint. He was being proclaimed a prophet and thought by many to be the messiah. He had the ear of the rich and powerful, he could have taken that attention, that spotlight, and kept it all for himself. Yet he didn’t. When pushed to tell the authorities who he was, John demurred. He wouldn’t talk about who he was-- proclaiming instead who he wasn’t. “I am not the messiah” “I am not.” “ No. “What do you have to say for yourself John?” And even when he finally answers them, he uses the words of Isaiah not his own. He doesn’t toot his own horn, he steps out of the spotlight—to prepare the spotlight for the actual Messiah, the true and full light of the world. John dims so that Jesus will fully shine. He decreases so the Light of the World can increase.
The Gospel of John is full of this light imagery. For the evangelist darkness is the enemy of light and the coming of Jesus Christ is the ultimate defeat of all powers of darkness. The shining light vs. the encroaching darkness. These Advent readings of Jesus and John the Baptist , come during a time of great darkness---December brings us the shortest of our days. Daylight is in short supply leading up to the winter solstice, but there is hope amidst the dreariness, for with the passing of the winter solstice our days actually begin to lengthen…the light begins to win out over the darkness. [many thanks to Fr. Paul Lillie for the insight into the relationship between the solstices and the nativity dates]
While the arrival of the Christ comes amidst a darkness which is beginning to wane, in an interesting juxtaposition, the Nativity of John the Baptist is celebrated in June, just a few days after the summer solstice, or the day our daylight begins its slow trek downward….when the long brightness of summer daylight begins to wane.
John and Jesus are inextricably linked with light. From his leaping in Elizabeth’s womb at Mary’s visitation, the role of John the Baptist is as a witness to the light and just as the daylight lessens leading up to the darkest and coldest December day John decreases leaving the spotlight for the true Light of the World, Jesus the Christ. A Light which to be fully experienced, must be shared. Our role as we witness the coming of the Messiah, the Light of the world is to share this light---to invite others into the warming rays of salvation. Yes, to fully experience the true light of the world, we must give it away.
. John the Baptist teaches us a hard lesson today—a counter cultural message of voluntarily stepping aside, of humility. A counter cultural message of minimalism decreasing so that others may increase. A counter cultural message of staying true to a vision, regardless of the seductions in one’s path. My nephew did not grow up to be an egomaniac. He learned that he was not the center of the universe, he learned that the spotlight was not for him, he learned that he was part of a much greater whole whose task it is to be a witness to the true light of the world.
It’s a tough transition to make—to realize you are not the center of the universe….but generally we all make that transition and assume our supporting role in the greater whole.
We don’t quit and say “hey if we can’t be the star then forget it, we won’t play..” No, we learn to find our place in the greater community and fulfill our role in that community the best we can. This is what John is teaching us today---yes he needed to step aside so that the light of the world, Jesus Christ, could shine without cloud or blemish---but he did not disappear, he did not quit. He continued to witness to the light, all the way to his death.
To be a Christian Community we cannot hog the spotlight proclaiming to the world like so many of the fallen from grace tv evangelists that we ourselves are the way and the truth--but we also cannot sit passively by just wondering at the miracle and blessing of it all. As a Christian community we must witness this light. As a community we must determine our roles within that witness and then fulfill those roles to the best of our ability. As witnesses to the miracle in a barn in Bethlehem and as witnesses to the miracle of the empty tomb we must prayerfully discern how best to proclaim the gifts God so graciously bestows upon us, not to glorify ourselves, but to glorify the Light of the World.
Amen.
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